Cat's in the Cradle

When Dana settled into her uncomfortable plastic chair, two things were on her mind that night. One, was to get her 120 dollar paycheck at the end of the week. Two, to drink herself into an eggnog and alcohol infused slumber in the night.

Working at Freddy's? Sure, that sounded easy. Supporting yourself outside of college seemed a good idea, and guarding the luxurious pizzeria vaults, fighting off the dangers of the REALLY  desperate homeless people seemed an even better idea at the time. Still a novice to the area's sights and sounds, she heard queer rumors and tales of what happened there in the past, but the hauntings were total bullshit. Did they even know how many people have died at Disneyland of all places? To work yourself up over that required a special branch of stupid from the retard gene.

Still, it seemed pretty boring for her first real job. Nobody around to even fuck with or anything, and the manager said the kitchen was locked up at night. So no late-night snacking, even.

But why didn't she have such a good feeling about this? Nothing's going on, and it's even less likely that somebody would break into the place when they've obviously lost the funds to keep it running. It's slated to close next week. This was just to get some job experience.

And since it's Christmas, nobody's gonna wanna break in and ruin the Christmas cheer.

The late night weariness was cut short by a sudden ringing.

It was coming from the answering machine. Dana stood up, with the chair clutched behind her back so she can lift it and drop easier, and plopped back down in front of the machine.

Dana pressed the play button out of curiosity. A lazy Southern drawl droned from the speakers.

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for-"

She hit the mute button above the speakers. Dana knew what she was doing, and didn't need a forty page manual to explain how not to end up with a hook up your ass or getting shot dead. A tablet laid next to it, on the shabby little table, littered with papers.

Dana flicked the little green button near the screen, to be presented with black and white views from the cameras. It pulled up whichever camera you touched with your finger, on a little map of the pizzeria.  The kitchen cam was down, but probably for good reason. A weird, boxy robot skeleton- kinda like the Terminator, actually what with the dark eyes and all- was slumped over on a table back-stage. The shelves were lined with some animal heads, and seeing them like that, it was actually kinda spooky. Like they were empty shells.


She flicked over to the stage, and found the pride and glory- the so called Fazbear Trio. The haunted ones. But wait...What's this? The silhouette of a man, his head covered by a baseball cap, stood at the feet of Freddy. His cap was just barely visible, and he had a trench coat over the rest of his body.. How the hell'd he get in?

Dana located her sewn-in badge to handle this stranger, and hustled down the halls. Drawing her tazer out of her holster-  wait, why the hell did they think putting the tazer in a holster was a good idea? She aimed the tazer at the man, and told him to stop.

He turned around with his hands in the air, his voice quivering. "I-I just want to see some old friends of mine, that's all." He had a stony face, with streaks of gray around the temples. "L-look, I'm not gonna do anything."

Somewhere in the pizzeria, a bulb burst. Bonnie and Chica were off the stage before she had time to even react. Before she could even scream, Chica's thumbs were embedded in her cheeks, and pulling towards her brain as she was lifted into the air.

The man watched the odd duo carry the writhing security guard, struggling to free herself off towards the kitchen.

He smiled, and turned towards the stage.

"Told ya I'd find a way to get here tonight. Bit harsh for her, really, but it's only once a year, kiddo.  Glad we could talk. But next week..."

Freddy too, was off the stage, almost in the blink of an eye. He stood next to the man, and hunched over a bit to be more face-to-face.

"I know he doesn't like it, but I thought of all the good times we had, and I knew I had  to risk it again. One of these days he'll get me, but it's okay. I brought you a gift, y'know. Here, I'll unwrap it for you."

The man fished a red and green rectangle out of his pocket, with a ribbon and little note stapled to it. He held up the name-tag to the bear's eyes. He withdrew it, and unwrapped the cassette tape. He held it up again to the face, confidently.

"It's your favorite, y'know."

He took out a tape player from his other pocket, and slid the tape inside before pressing it shut, and clicking play.

The song began it's course, the one both of them have heard hundreds of times. The melody that they knew each beat, each emphasis to.

Dream, dream, dream, dream
Dream, dream, dream, dream


"Your mother loved this song too, you know. She always played it the day you came, and she played it the day of the funeral."

The man sighed, and sat down in a "Party-Chair". He cupped his face into his hands. The bear followed, and sat on the floor next to him.

When I want you, in my arms
When I want you, and all your charms
Whenever I want you, all I have to do is
Dream, dream, dream, dream

"We talked about this last time. But, y'know, I'll fight tooth and nail next week. I won't let them scrap you, or the rest of them. The others may have given up on you guys, but I haven't.....Does he let you hear sometimes? Talk?"

When I feel blue, in the night
And I need you, to hold me tight
Whenever I want you, all I have to do is
Dream


The boy nodded.

"Why don't we go ask him?"

The two stood up, and walked to the kitchen. They left the player on the table.

Only trouble is, gee whiz
I'm dreamin my life away

I need you so, that I could die
I love you so, and that is why.