Chapter Text
Jeremy Fitzgerald climbed out of his mother's car and assessed the building in front of him.
A warehouse labeled “Afton Robotics” stood desolate in the woods, lights flickering eerily. Usually, there would be someone else here, but they paused operations on everything while Mr. Afton's estate was being settled. A matter that would be easier to resolve if his seventeen-year-old son wasn't missing. His phone started vibrating as he reached to open the front doors. He sighed and flipped it open, leaning against the wall and casting a glance at the door instead.
“Hello? Who is this?”, He says as the line clicks open.
“It’s Mark–” One of Mike’s old friends, Jeremy didn’t think Mike had spoken to him in a while “–have you seen Michael?”
“Who gave you my number? Does Mike know you have it?”
“Your mom–” Mark cut himself off and snickered.
He sighed heavily, “Dude, I don’t have time for this. Go bother somebody else.”
“Wait! I’m sorry– I did actually get it from your mom. She said you were looking for Michael, did something happen other than… you know.”
“Other than his dad getting murdered?" He bites his tongue and forces his tone into something more casual, "I don’t know, I’d like to ask him, but he’d have to come back for that.”
Mark clicked his tongue, “When did he run off?”
“After he found out, I think. The last time he went home was three days ago.”
“He could be two states away by now then, I don’t think he’s coming back. I know you two were– something or whatever, but–”
“You haven’t talked to Mike in years, and you’re trying to say you know him better than me? Really? Maybe that’s what you would do, but Mike wouldn’t leave everyone behind like that, Mark. Especially not his siblings.”
Mark backtracked, “I wasn’t trying to–”
He hung up the phone with a click and slipped it back in his pocket. He turned his attention back to the task at hand: searching the warehouse for Michael. Pushing the front door open with a huff, he was greeted by a sparsely decorated waiting room.
“Mike? Are you here?”, He called out into the emptiness.
No response.
He reached over the front desk to fiddle with the computer. It wasn't turned on, and it seemed like the building didn't even have power. His elbow knocked against something, and he heard a small clink against the tile. Glancing down at his feet, a flashlight had fallen off the desk. It couldn't hurt to take that, right? Nobody was around to miss it anyway.
He made his way into a large open workshop space, packed with boxes. They must have been packing things up to move over to the new place.
“Hello? Mike…?”
Silence again, but the room has acoustics that made his voice echo in a fun way. He took his time poking around and opening a few boxes, most of which contained random electronics or party supplies. An ajar side door caught his eye, with a plaque next to it reading ‘Research & Development’. He pushed the door open cautiously and peered inside.
While he was expecting some kind of lab, he was greeted by a small room with an elevator. The button was illuminated, so he figured it must run on a separate generator from the rest of the building or something. Pressing the red button opened the doors, and the lights flickered on.
Stepping into the elevator, he noticed the promotional posters for the new restaurant Mr. Afton had planned to open. He always found the clown girl creepy, who makes a clown robot anyway? Elizabeth loves the thing though, considering it's all she talks about. As the elevator whirred to life, he jumped as a voice began to speak.
“Welcome to the first day of your exciting new career! Whether you were approached at a job fair, read our ad in Screws, Bolts and Hairpins, –or if this is the result of a dare– we welcome you.”
“Dude, not cool!” Then he tacked on, “I’m not an employee, actually I'm looking for–”
The voice cut him off, “I will be your personal guide to help you get started. I'm a Model 2 of the Handyman's Robotics and Unit Repair System, but you can call me HandUnit.”
“Okay, not a person. That makes sense. Is there a person I can talk to– like a help line? Customer service, maybe?”
“Your new career promises challenge, intrigue and endless janitorial opportunities. Please enter your name as seen above the keypad,” A small slit opened in the floor of the elevator, and a half-painted yellow screen rose up from it, “This cannot be changed later so please be careful.”
“My name as seen above the keypad, huh?”
He took the keypad off the stand and inspected above the screen. There wasn’t a label placed there at all, instead just loose wiring that might have something to do with the way the screen was flickering. That made sense, since this part of the warehouse didn’t seem like it was supposed to be operational at all. Who would have pre-labeled the keypad for new employees if there weren’t any?
He typed in his own name instead and the keypad buzzed, spitting out an error message.
“It seems you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will autocorrect it for you. One moment.”
He tapped on the screen a few times until the display changed.
“Welcome: [Belgian Waffle].”
"Belgian Waffle? Like the breakfast food? That's not even close, man.”
To be fair, the thing is clearly half-finished, and so is the elevator with the way the lights keep flickering.
HandUnit chimed in again as the elevator came to a halt, “It seems you have [One] shift mates with you today! I will provide their names for you now. One moment.”
Someone else was in here with him? That had to be Mike.
“Your fellow shift mates are: [Eggs Benedict]. It seems one or more of your shift mates have worked over 24 hours. Please congratulate them on their dedication and encourage them to go home.”
Well, at least now he knows the breakfast food thing wasn't specific to him. If that was Mike, how long had he been down here? If he hasn’t left since he went missing, he probably would have starved by now. The elevator was operational though, so Mike could have left and came back at any time. He couldn't be dead.
His anxiety got the best of him though, “How long has “Eggs Benedict” been clocked in?”
HandUnit ignored him entirely. “You can now open the elevator using that bright, red and obvious button. Let's get to work!”
It was beginning to feel like his ‘helper’ wasn’t exactly helpful, but there wasn’t anything to do other than listen to it. He was then greeted by a happy jingle as the doors opened, and he walked directly into a concrete wall.
“Ow! What the hell! Dude, where's the exit?”
Closer inspection revealed the opening to a small ventilation shaft by his feet. It wasn’t labeled in any way, and it seemed like something that would be used to access the roof of an elevator for maintenance.
“Hey, HandUnit– I think this is the wrong floor. Hello?”
Peering into the ventilation shaft with his flashlight, it didn't seem as dusty as he would expect. The scuff marks on the edge implied someone actually climbed through there. Great.
“Well, only one way out, right?”