Fetch- Baseball Bat Beating

  Under the shore pines clustered near the back of his yard, next to the marram grass at the edge of the dunes, Fetch sat. His eyes glowed red in the now predawn light, and his ears were tilted forward, as if in question. Greg was so angry and upset he didn’t even think about running away. Instead, he grabbed the baseball bat from his dad’s pile of sporting equipment and took one step toward Fetch. Then another. And another. And then he was sprinting full out.

  Fetch stood. Eyes bright, he looked at Greg.

  If Fetch had been a real dog, Greg would have thought this was cute. But Fetch wasn’t a real dog. He was an animatronic killer made to look like a dog. Greg wasn’t going to let the seemingly happy look stop him.

  When Greg reached Fetch, he didn’t hesitate. He swung the bat at Fetch’s head.

  The first strike split open the top of Fetch’s head, revealing a metal skull and ripped wires. Sparks flew as Greg wound up for another swing.

  “What did you do?!” Greg screamed at the Fetch.

  Fetch’s mouth hinged opened in what looked like a silly grin. Greg swung the bat and whacked Fetch’s mouth. Metal teeth sprayed out, and more sparks sputtered at the end of wires that hung through the mouth opening.

  But Fetch was still looking at Greg with what looked like an eager gaze.

  “Stop it!” Greg shrieked.

  Swinging the bat in a wide arc, he brought it down on Fetch’s head as hard as he could. Metal clanged. More sparks flitted out into the wet dune grass. And Greg kept up his assault. He pounded on Fetch with the bat. Once, twice, three times, four times. Finally, Fetch’s face was pulverized. But Greg wasn’t done. He raised the bat again and battered what was left of the machine. Soon, the remnants of the animatronic killer didn’t resemble anything but a small pile of industrial debris. Still, Greg didn’t stop … not until he had blisters on his palms, and he was chomping at the sea air in frantic wide-mouthed gulps.

  Finally, he dropped the bat.

  Greg fell back on his butt in the sloppy wet dunes. He stared at the pile of metal, hinges, synthetic fur, and wires as he sat, catching his breath.

- Fazbear's Frights 2: Fetch