Chapter Text
Ralph was no stranger to oddities in the Hurricane countryside; he’d seen his fair share of shit. But this was on a whole other level of weird.
He stared with a mix of horror and awe as, sat broken and defunct against an old, withering tree, what appeared to be an animatronic rabbit looked back at him through dull eyes. Its baby blue metal skin was cracked, endoskeleton exposed and paint peeling off in chunks like dead skin. Each limb was twisted and splayed, and one eyelid hung low while the other was missing. The worst part was the gigantic hole in his chest, his midsection torn open like a piece of roadkill.
As he took a cautious step forward, only then did Ralph truly realize what he was looking at. It was some iteration of Bonnie. He almost looked like one of the old Glamrock animatronics from upstate, but surely that couldn’t be it. Salt Lake City was four hours away…
Then he heard the rustling of the brush behind him.
Turning around, Ralph stifled a scream as a slim figure stepped out into the beam of his flashlight. A chrome white chicken, its pink accents chipped and casing cracked just like Bonnie’s, lurched her way towards him on a damaged leg. Where a beak should have been was merely a gaping hole, a toothless endoskeleton maw hanging out uselessly from inside. Chica!
Chica let out a stifled cry as she swiped at him, and Ralph quickly scampered out of the way when he felt himself bump into something rugged and cold. Looking over his shoulder, Ralph watched as a metallic wolf towered above him, her face ripped apart and her eyes torn out as she snarled down at him. Her green and silver hair reeked of smoke, and oil dripped from her razor-sharp teeth. Even stranger, the remains of a green gator clung to the wolf’s back, its pinkish-red eyes glaring at him. Roxy and Monty.
Monty leapt off of Roxy’s shoulders in an instant, revealing only the upper half of a torso- everything else had been torn off, leaving exposed wires and parts out in the open. Before Ralph knew what was happening he and the gator were rolling around in the dirt, the rabid animatronic snapping its mangy jaws as it clawed through skin and tissue.
Ralph screamed as he managed to throw off the monster, but he barely got back to his feet before Chica slammed into him with surprising force, sending him right back down. Roxy grabbed him hard by the hair and yanked him upwards, reaching towards his face as she sneered, “Let’s see how you like it when you get your eyes ripped from your skull!”
“Roxanne.”
Everything stopped as a rough, broken voice crackled through the silent desert. As Ralph squirmed, Roxy threw him back to the ground and huffed, “So you get to have all the revenge you want, but I can’t rip out a guy’s eyeballs?”
“I am not getting revenge,” the mystery voice sighed as heavy, rusty footsteps came ever closer to Ralph’s struggling body. Soon enough, a metallic hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt, and gently he was lifted up enough for the man to get a good look at the monster before him.
It was a bear, its orange coloring faded and dull as its eyes glowed a saccharine blue. He was just as worn and withered as the others, half of his facial casing gone and his jaw mere exposed metal. His chest, just like Bonnie’s, was ripped open, and his hand casing was gone, leaving bitter metal and deadly claws. And yet, despite the damage, his expression still held a special kindness.
Freddy Fazbear.
“What are you doing out here in the desert?” the bear asked matter-of-factly. “Are you lost?”
“I… I was just on a walk… Sight-seeing…” Ralph wheezed, blood spilling down his chin. “Please don’t kill me… Please…”
“I would not dream of it.” Freddy took Ralph in his arms and sat him upright next to Bonnie’s corpse, careful not to scratch him. “I am so sorry for my friends. People have not been kind towards us.” The bear turned toward the rabbit. “Right Bonnie?”
Bonnie didn’t answer, still just as lifeless as before.
Freddy laughed humorlessly as he continued, “Bonnie is not much of a talker anymore. But I am. I am the leader of this… Whatever you would call us.”
“The Glamrocks.”
“Yes. I had almost forgotten that name.”
“Just get it over with Freddy,” Roxy snapped from behind. “Do you want me to do it or-”
“What? What does that mean?!” Ralph tried to scramble away, but Freddy grabbed him and pulled him close. Too close.
Freddy chuckled again, his exposed wiring sparking with nerves as the man struggled and squirmed. “I am not going to kill you. That is not in my programming. I cannot do such a thing.” The bear hesitated, and then whispered, “I am sorry I have to do this. I do not enjoy violence. Please know that.”
Suddenly, Freddy grabbed Ralph by the side of his face and smacked his head hard against the rotting tree. As his body went limp, Freddy nudged him to make sure he was out cold and got back to his feet.
As Freddy stared down at the man, Roxy held his shoulder. “You should’ve let me do it,” she whispered, concern in her voice. “Are you… Are you okay?”
For a long while, Freddy didn’t respond, slipping out of Roxy’s grasp. “I am okay,” he finally said. “He will be okay too. Worst thing he will have is a slight concussion. Maybe a nose bleed… But it was necessary. Better than killing him… This is all for us.” He stared at the rest of his remaining bandmates, sorrow in his damaged voice. “We have to get going. They cannot find us. Not yet. We will know what to do when we get there. I am sure of it.”
Without another word, Freddy gestured for Roxy to help him carry Bonnie’s body as Monty hopped onto Chica’s shoulder. The old band grabbed their few things, and soon enough they were back on the move.
Freddy added the stranger’s face to his database. He couldn’t afford to forget anyone, even if they weren’t dead.
—
“Hey Dad. It’s me, Charlie.”
Charlie stared down at the gravestone, the name William Mitch Afton engraved into the granite. Underneath his name it read, In the hands of eternity. She’d chosen that line. In fact, she’d been the one with the idea to give him an actual gravestone in the first place, next to Mike and Evan’s. He hadn’t had one before, given how he had been framed for child murder.
Quickly she said hello to Mike and Evan as well, unfolding a piece of paper from her pocket as she mumbled, “I know you guys probably can’t hear me, but y’know, stranger has happened. Kids have possessed animatronics, Dad possessed an old mascot suit, metal can be infused with human souls, yada yada yada… I’ll get to the point.
“It’s the anniversary of the Freddy’s murders. John, Lamar, Marla, Jason, I’m sure you remember them. You guys are all being honored this time too, so that’s cool.
“I’m going out to the celebration of life with the crew, and…” She sighed, crumbling her paper into a ball and shoving it back into her pocket. “This is ridiculous. I mean, surely no one’s listening. What the hell am I even doing?” She put her hands up, sighing, “Dad, Mike, Evan, anyone, if you’re there, just send me a sign. Please.”
She waited, the dry desert breeze whistling past her as she stood there in the dry grass, the tombs barely shaded by the crippled tree on top of the awkward, hilly grove. Nothing happened.
Charlie kicked at the dirt underfoot as she began to sulk away, only for something to catch her eye. Just behind the hill were two familiar markers dug into the dirt, not a single flower or note left behind for the pair. Jen Emily and Clay Burke’s tombstones.
No one was sure who decided to even give those two the time of day in the old cemetery; nobody liked them, for good reason. Charlie could remember everything that had happened with them when she arrived in Hurricane a year ago like the back of her hand. She could remember Vanessa’s tales of Jen’s victims, their bodies piled up into mountains at the bottom of the Pizzaplex and their souls injected into endoskeletons; she could remember Carlton’s stories of soul-crushing horror as Clay killed each and every one of his friends and Jessica’s recollection of her brother’s death at the corrupt police chief’s hands; she could remember Clay attempting to kill her as animatronics ran amok through his home, and Jen plunging a knife through her neck.
Her fingers grazed against the bumpy scar across her throat, each swallow more painful than the last as she continued to stare down at the poor excuses for graves. They didn’t even have anything to bury; Jen and Clay’s remains had never been found, probably scorched into ash by the fire that consumed Freddy’s in the end.
The sound of her phone smacked her back to reality, and Charlie couldn’t help but smile seeing a message from Vanessa. I’m heading down to the diner; see you in a few! it read.
I’ll be there in five, Charlie replied, and added a heart emoji for good measure. Then she raced down the hill towards her car, hoping to actually be there in the five minutes she promised.
She didn’t dare look back at the gravestones.
—
Pulling into a parking space near the town square, Charlie raced as fast as she could manage on the uneven gravel. She couldn’t help but wonder how much quicker she could have run if she still had both legs instead of only one.
Charlie shook her head. Her prosthetic did its job, and frankly she was rather glad she didn’t have one like Carlton’s arm or Jessica’s eye. Having to connect the tech to actual nerves wasn’t a pleasant process.
The merciless summer sun beat down on the small desert town as Charlie hurried along the busy sidewalks. It was the most populated she’d ever seen the square. Frankly, ever since Freddy’s burnt down and the truth was revealed about Clay and Jen, things seemed a bit brighter. The astroturf was a bit greener, the unused fountain a little cleaner. Everything was still old and tired and forsaken, but at least she saw a few more smiles than she had before.
Finally, she saw it. At the southeast end of the square sat Fredbear’s Family Diner, the face of a familiar golden bear plastered above the rickety front doors. Charlie couldn’t help but grin as she saw the others sitting at one of the window booths, engrossed in conversation. She knocked on the dirty window, grime brushing up against her scarred, worn knuckles, and immediately the three of them turned to look at her. Vanessa’s face blushed a bright, surprised red as she broke out into a sheepish smile, and Jessica rolled her eyes as Carlton giggled.
“We were wondering where you were,” Jessica said as Charlie walked inside. The former Freddy’s manager radiated coolness, her icy gaze and pastel complexion like breaths of fresh air compared to the feverish warmth of the wasteland. Her left eye only added to the look, replaced with a sleek black-and-white robotic one. It was pretty badass, Charlie had to admit.
“How many minutes was I late this time?” Charlie asked, breathless as she sat down next to Vanessa.
“Only three,” Carlton said, “which means you only get charged three whole dollars!” Jessica nudged his shoulder playfully, and he held his robotic arm delicately. “Hey, I know it was a dumb joke, but don’t damage the merchandise!” His smile was fuller now in comparison to when Charlie first met him, his dull green eyes now full with life. His red hair was longer, his bangs hanging over his face and nearly covering his freckles as he laughed.
Suddenly, Charlie felt her face turn hot as Vanessa took her hand. “Don’t worry, I was a little late too,” she said. To Charlie, every part of her was beautiful; her emerald eyes, her sand-gold hair, even her scars. It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing, Charlie knew she was the loveliest woman in the world. There was simply no competition.
“You mean by half a minute?” Jessica asked.
Vanessa scoffed. “That’s still technically late.”
“Ah, everyone’s here now! May I take your order, Ms. Afton?” Charlie jumped in surprise at the new voice, looking up only to see Henry standing there, notepad and pencil in hand. For a guy in his forties, he looked surprisingly young, not a hint of gray in his chocolate hair and not a bag under his olive eyes.
Carlton spoke up first. “I think you nearly gave her a heart attack, Dad.”
“Ah, yes, I’m sorry. All this coffee’s made me a tad hyper, I hope you can forgive me.”
“It’s alright Mr. Goodman.” Charlie waved the incident off, and one by one they all made their orders. But as Henry jotted the last one down and began to walk away, Charlie excused herself and hurried to follow him. “Mr. Goodman! I need to give you something!” Henry turned around, but before he could even speak she pulled out a small, handmade card from the inside of her jacket and handed it to him. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
“Oh, thank you!” Opening the card, Henry’s face broke into an eager beaming as he read, “Thank you for accepting my suggestion for the diner’s name. I appreciate it more than anyone could ever know. Sincerely, Charlie Afton.”
Before Charlie knew what was happening, Henry set down his things and practically tackle-hugged her. “I’m glad you like it!” he laughed as Charlie stood there, still as a statue. “Fredbear’s Family Diner’s a better name than Goodman’s Glamorous Eatery, after all.”
“Yeah, uh… Sorry, I’m not used to this,” Charlie squeaked, awkwardly patting Henry’s back as he continued to hug her. “I’m glad you like the card.”
“Of course!” Finally, Henry let her go, saying, “Now go hang out with the others. I’m sure they’d like you back.”
“Okay…?” Henry was gone before Charlie even finished speaking, and stiffly she made her way back to the booth. “Carlton, how much coffee has your dad drank this morning?”
“Like, three cups. He’s a lightweight when it comes to caffeine, I guess.”
Before long the table went silent, and Charlie knew exactly what they were thinking about. All around them people were shooting glances toward the four of them, some kind and some not so much. A microphone was being set up on the tiny, makeshift stage in the corner, and an empty round table sat in the middle of the diner, eight seats vacant and barren. The table itself was filled with framed pictures, old trinkets, crinkled drawings and writings. On each chair was written a name: John Brooks, Lamar Kingston, Marla Miller, Jason Miller, Neil Dunn, Evan Afton, Michael “Mike” Afton…
And William Afton. Someone had scribbled out his name with red marker, the word MURDERER written underneath. Some people still didn’t believe their story, clearly. At least, the part of their story they could tell; nobody would believe the supernatural side of things.
“Who did that?” Charlie asked through gritted teeth as she gestured toward the graffiti.
Jessica shook her head. “Don’t know. We told one of the staff about it, and they said they’d fix it, but…”
“Maybe we should tell Henry,” Vanessa said. “Clearly he hasn’t noticed it.”
Carlton nodded. “I’ll tell him when I see him.”
All was quiet as the four of them just sat there, staring sorrowfully at the empty table. Then Carlton stood up and walked over, and then Jessica too. Vanessa took Charlie’s hand once more as they followed, and the blonde whispered, “Doing okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Only then did Charlie realize she had tears in her eyes. “Uh, you?”
Vanessa could only nod, wiping at her face.
After a while, other people started to join in too. Charlie recognized one of the library interns staring wistfully at one of Marla’s drawings, the local genealogy club looking at pictures of Jason, a group of high school girls paying their respects to Evan; Lamar’s father read over his son’s essays, and even one of Mike’s former bosses took off his hat before a graduation picture of him. Charlie held a picture of her father with shaking hands as Carlton stared at John’s, his expression unreadable. Jessica brushed specks of dust from her brother’s old badge, and Vanessa scribbled a note to her old co-workers at the Pizzaplex.
The community mourned. Some with tears, some with hugs, some with condolences, but nevertheless, they mourned.
“You must be Charlotte.”
The new voice, just like Henry’s, shook Charlie from her thoughts, and slowly she turned around to see a man probably in his early fifties standing behind her. From the pictures of John she knew the stranger was his dad; she recognized that same scruffy brown hair, those same matching eyes.
“I am,” she answered quietly, dread washing over her like a sudden torrent of rain. It wasn’t often when the family of one of Jen’s victims was very happy with her.
Carlton suddenly appeared by Charlie’s side, one eye twitching as he said with a nervous smile, “Hey Mr. Brooks, how are you doing?”
Mr. Brooks’s look of disgust grew. “Neither of you should be here,” he said. “Neither of you have the privilege.”
“Excuse me?” Charlie crossed her arms. “We’re here to mourn, just like you.”
“And this is a public event,” Jessica added. “Anyone can come and go as they please, Donald.”
“None of you get to call me that!” Mr. Brooks got up in Jessica’s sullen face without hesitation, snapping, “Your brother made us a promise, to find our son’s murderer, and then he didn’t do shit!”
Jessica’s eyes widened, and Charlie watched as her hands curled into fists. “Neil was murdered by the same man as your son. If he was still alive, he would’ve been able to give proper justice. I swear.”
“Then he was clearly a r-t-rd, getting himself killed.”
Before Jessica could even open her mouth, Vanessa shoved her way in front of her, yelling, “Don’t you ever call my cousin that! Ever!”
“And you!” Mr. Brooks pointed. “What the hell are you doing here? You didn’t know my son, you barely knew any of these people. You belong back in that damned complex with the rest of your co-workers.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yeah. You don’t deserve how lucky you got.”
Charlie grabbed Mr. Brooks by the shirt collar, pulling him away from Vanessa. “You bastard, you don’t get to talk to anyone like that,” she snarled, “especially not my girlfriend!”
The man pushed her away. “Of course, the daughter of Jen Emily threatens violence,” he sneered, turning his attention toward Carlton. “What about you, Burke boy? You wanna kill me too?”
“I’m nothing like Clay,” he replied, flexing his mechanical fingers.
“Sure, sure, of course. It’s not like you’re just as guilty for John’s death as your father! Oh, wait, I forgot! You led my boy right into Freddy’s. You didn’t even go with him at first, you dared to stay in my home and wait! You watched him die, watched him sacrifice his life for you, and you didn’t do shit!
“And that’s not to mention what your mother did to my boy!” Mr. Brooks shouted, looking back at Charlie. “She ripped him apart piece by piece until he could fit into a goddamn animatronic bear! Do you know what it’s like, to have to go to the coroner’s office and have to identify your own child? Your child that’s been chopped up and torn apart like a damn dog toy?! To only know who your child is by a lock of his hair found stuck to his eyeball and by the fillings in his remaining teeth?!
“You don’t! You don’t know how that feels, none of you! You’ll always be your mother’s daughter,” he said, and looked back toward Carlton again, “and your father’s son. There’s no escaping from your blood! Never! I’m never getting my son back, because of you!”
“Donald! What are you doing?!” The crowd turned to see Henry hurrying over, nearly stomping as he got between Mr. Brooks and the others. “How could you talk to them like that?!”
“Henry, they killed my son! They helped kill my son!”
“They didn’t do shit, and I do not appreciate you talking about my son and his friends like that.”
Mr. Brooks’s face turned from red to nearly purple, rage restraining any ounce of sense he had left. “That is not your son!” he screamed. “That is a traitor, all of them!”
“Get out of my diner.”
“What?”
“Get out of my diner!” Henry grabbed Mr. Brooks by the scruff of his shirt, and in a flash he threw the man out the front doors and onto the cracked sidewalk. Without hesitation, Carlton’s adoptive father spit at him, slammed the doors shut, and locked them behind him. “And never come back!”
The diner went quiet as everyone stared at Henry, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Finally, Henry held up his hands and said, “We’ll have no hate in this diner. Understood?”
The crowd murmured in agreement, and Charlie watched with quiet fury as Mr. Brooks pathetically limped away, still glaring at her. Surely that day couldn’t get any worse, right?
—
An hour or so passed, and the anger towards Mr. Brooks slowly began to fade as things continued to go as scheduled. Their food arrived, and as Charlie tried not to plow through her bacon and toast, Vanessa muttered, “I think that guy forgot I still have my taser. Mr. Brooks, I mean.”
“The one you killed Jen with?” Jessica asked.
“Yeah. I could’ve zapped that dipshit real good.”
“Would’ve been badass,” Charlie joked, and Vanessa’s face began to blush.
The conversation stalled as the girls stared at Carlton’s empty seat, his chocolate-chip pancakes only half finished. “Should we check on him?” Vanessa asked. “He’s been in the bathroom for five minutes.”
Charlie and Jessica glanced nervously at each other, and finally Jessica said, “I’ll check up on him.”
But as soon as she stood up, Henry stepped onto the makeshift stage in the corner and took the microphone in hand. “Hello everyone! Thank you for coming to our celebration of life. All eight of the people honored here today mean something to each and every one of us, and I’m sure they’re all happy to know we still honor and remember them.
“I don’t want to steal the spotlight for too long, so I’ll cut myself short for now. But again, thank you all for coming, and please welcome Carlton Goodman to the stage!”
The crowd erupted in surprised applause as Carlton appeared from out of the shadows, sharing a few whispered words with Henry before taking the microphone and stepping into the spotlight. As the clapping eventually subsided, the redhead cleared his throat and hesitantly began, “Like my dad said, I’m glad everyone’s come here to honor my friends and all the others lost to Freddy’s.”
“I knew all of them, even if only a little bit,” he continued. “Evan was a wonderful manager, and Mike was always pleasant the few times I met him. A little crude, but who in Hurricane isn’t?” That got a few chuckles out of everyone. “Neil was more honorable than the other cops and detectives combined, and William was more like a dad than Clay ever was. Of course, no one can live up to Henry, but that’s just my opinion.
“But I knew my friends best out of everyone. Jason, Marla, Lamar… John. I loved them just as much as they loved me, and I still wish I could have done more. It haunts me every day. But I can’t do anything about it now, so I choose to focus on my new friends.
“Jessica, Vanessa, Charlie, all three of you are more wonderful than you think. Jessica, you’re a genius, both book and street-wise. Vanessa, you’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever met, no competition. And Charlie… Well, what else can I say other than-”
Suddenly, Carlton’s speech was interrupted by the sound of something heavy banging up against the front doors. Charlie turned and felt the warmth drain from her face as she saw Mr. Brooks through the glass, angry tears running down his face as his eyes met her own. Immediately he screamed, pounding his fists against the doors, “You fucking traitor!”
“Everyone get away from the doors!” As the patrons scrambled out of the way, Henry ran over to Vanessa, nearly begging, “Ms. Shelly, I know you have that taser on you. Can I borrow it?”
“O-Of course.”
Quickly she handed it to him, and Henry set it to its least dangerous setting and approached the doors. “Donald, I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, “but I’m not afraid to use this if you try something.”
“Stop playing dumb! Turn on the news and you’ll see what she’s done!” Mr. Brooks pointed angrily at Charlie, yelling, “You sold us out, you little snake! I’ll fucking kill you!”
“I swear, I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” Charlie said.
Henry fiddled with the taser. “I’m sure. Jessica, can you turn on the television and switch to the local news? Maybe that’ll placate him.”
Jessica did as said, scrambling to find the remote behind the front desk and pointing it at the screen hanging from the ceiling corner. The channel was already on the news, and as the usual host stumbled over her words, Charlie froze.
Fazbear Entertainment. They were talking about Fazbear Entertainment.
“Reportedly, the former Cyclone Mall was bought by the new, anonymous CEO of Fazbear Entertainment less than two months after being abandoned during the infamous Freddy’s fire,” the host said. “They stated in an email our team sent in regards to the reveal, ‘We here at Fazbear Entertainment do not plan on opening our Pizzaplex location in Salt Lake City. We have already moved all usable equipment, furniture, and machinery to the refurbished Cyclone Mall in Hurricane, and we will be renaming the mall to the Fazbear Entertainment Pizzaplex in the coming days. If production continues to go smoothly over the next week, our new location will be opening as scheduled on July 30th at 10:30 A.M. We hope to see everyone there!’”
Everyone’s gazes slid from the television over to Charlie, but she barely noticed. She could barely even speak. Her mind raced, wondering how this had happened right under her nose, but she kept coming back to one thought:
What. The. Fuck.