Patience: Chapter 5. Echoes

Okay, so 'prepared' was a pretty strong word in retrospect. Mike was a frugal man who knew how to stretch a dollar, mostly due to his dire economic situation, but twenty dollars to fend off killer robots? Madness. Obviously it was an investment he couldn't afford to waste, but at the same time it was only twenty dollars. He couldn't exactly pick up a shotgun and a welding torch like he would've wanted. But these were problems for a different day, and after the emotional roller-coaster that was his second day of work, Mike fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Shockingly, Mike was met with a dreamless, restful reprieve that set him up for the day with rekindled vigor. Which is to say, he didn't have night terrors throwing him out of the bed. Same thing really. The plan of attack for today was trying to maximize the bang-to-buck ratio, and brainstorm what could possibly help him through the nights. His first thought was either a case of energy drinks or some caffeine pills to keep him sharp. Couldn't afford to wind up dozing again like he did last night, that could've been disastrous. Grabbing his familiarly tarnished hoodie, Mike decided to take a walk to the closest convenience store to check prices and see if anything else comes to mind.

The streets murmured with the rotting leaves of fall crunching under his heels. Mike looked behind him a few times out of instinct, but found that the usual bustle of town was unusually light today. It's gotten colder; he might have to buy another blanket or a heater soon. But he was getting off-topic, he had to prepare for his shift. Thankfully, he regained his focus in time to see a garage sale sign. Now that was good timing. He hoped he might be able to find some sort kind of cool technology out of a science fiction novel, like an anti-robot laser. Or maybe a baseball bat with magnets welded onto it. He wasn't all too picky for a last-ditch resort against those things.

Arriving on scene, things were definitely more...colorful than Mike had imagined. A lot less mad-scientist gray, and a whole lot more hot-pink. Corny movies, dolls, and small clothes lined the tables in marked boxes. Sitting in the back, beyond all the tables, sat a wiry man with an over-pressed grey suit. He was sitting back with a cheap beer in his hand, and a metal lock-box beside him. Aside from a passing glance, he didn't seem to care for Mike's presence.

"Prices as marked. No haggling, no trades, no returns."

"Oh, uuh, yeah. Okay, thanks."

Mike said as he disappointingly looked through the tables. He'd gone so far out of his way to get here, he might as well check for SOMETHING of value. However, there wasn't much he could use here to get himself through the night, unless one of the robots was afraid of teddy bears and kitten stickers that is. Just when he was about to call the expedition a bust, a cutesy little face poked out from the back of a box labeled 'School stuff'.

What he first thought was a cupcake with eyes, turns out to be alot heavier than expected. It was about the size of a lunchbox, but the little straps on it showed that it was intended as a backpack. There was even a little zipper below it's frosting layer that opened up for storage. It probably couldn't hold more than a book and a few pencils, but it was pretty cute and he couldn't afford a proper bag right now. It's most notable feature was that the top half of it wasn't fabric, it was a solid plastic. Which, upon closer inspection, was because it had a built in cassette player, and a retractable antenna, (Which was cleverly disguised as a candle), presumably for a radio function. The thing was pretty rad, even if Mike would look utterly ridiculous wearing it. The tables listed the price below for a measly five dollars. Either the guy didn't know what he had here, or he mislabeled it. Either way, fuck yeah Mike was going to drop 5$ for a radio.

"Hey uuuh I-"

"Cash only."

"Yeah, no. That-That's fine. I just-Can you break a twenty?"

"Yeah."

Though it hurt him to let go, Mike gave the man the majority of his savings, and watched it disappear into the metal box. The grey haired man began counting out a collection of one dollar bills.

"Pretty, uhh, interesting stuff you've here. It's...um. I guess your little girl's all grown up now huh?"

Mike offered with a hesitant smile as he kept his eyes trained on the money in the man's hands. The hand's which stopped moving altogether. Twitching once, the man went back to counting before pushing the fist full of cash into Mike with excessive force. The man sat back and took his beer back in hand before he spoke again.

"Just don't need it anymore."

Mike's smile faded as he pocketed the cash and began walking away with speed. Whatever he'd walked into was an obviously tender topic, and more to the point, none of his business. At the end of the day, he had a radio for a fraction of its cost. It was time for him to move on.

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Having stopped at the local quick-mart, Mike took advantage of the 'Midweek madness' deal to fill his embarrassing backpack full of a few energy drinks before heading back home.

Now that he had time to mess around with, Mike started looking into his backpack with a more discerning eye. Turning on the radio produced nothing but static...he would obviously have to tune this at some point. Pressing on, he began fiddling with the cassette player. Standard stuff there. Mike wasn't a technical wiz, but he knew how to start, stop, and open...

There was a cassette inside.

It was green with a floral pattern on it. Flipping it over, the words 'Cool songs 4 dad!!!' Was messily written on it. A wave of guilt washed over Mike as he felt the thing in his hands. This was probably something worth a whole hell of alot more than five dollars. He tried not to think about it. He was no stranger to ill-fortune himself, and there were a few things that could've lead to this. No reason to assume the worst. It wasn't his place to judge a dad for selling it, or to think about WHY he was selling it. He couldn't afford to think about this right now, his shift was coming up. He gently replaced the tape back into the player and hefted the bag onto his shoulders. The world is shitty, and life goes on. Can't focus on the past, gotta look to the present. Just don't think about it, grab your coat and start walking to work.

...

He thought about it.
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Arriving one scene with a somber mood to get the night started off right, Mike looked up to see the boss man beaming at him with a smoldering cigar loosely hanging on from his devilish grin.

"There's a good lad! Didn't think you'd make it! Heh heh! ...Are you wearin' a cupcake?"

"Yeah, I-No it's just the only thing I had to carry stuff, and I wanted some drinks to-"

His face contorting into a bemused, but utterly confused smile. Sal had the same gentle condescension in his eyes a grandpa would after his grandson tried to explain what the hell an 'Anime' is. He was also doing very well at holding back a laugh.

"Right, right. Well, if it gets you through your shift and doesn't burn the place down, by all means. Just uhh, try not to get sprinkles everywhere, alright princess?"

Feeling his nose scrunch up, Mike raised a finger to offer a retort. Sal quickly shot it down by raising his hand and starting his walk into the alleyways.

"Joke. Just a joke lad. Gotta learn how to laugh...Don't wanna forget what humor looks like, trust me. See ya in the morn. Bright n' early."

Mike wondered what the hell he meant by all that, but he was gone, again, before Mike could even wonder where he ran off to. Whatever, he had bigger things to worry about. Speaking of which, Mike turned to face the doors.

"Here we go."
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Walking into the office, a new, folded uniform laid atop the desk without so much as a note. Sal must've remembered you needed a new one despite his drunken haze. He was a pretty cool boss when it came down to brass tacks.

"Hello, hello? Hey you're doing great!"

Mike sat his bag down and immediately began surfing the monitors for movement. The tape continued playing in the background, an afterthought at this point.

"Most people don’t last this long. I mean, you know, they usually move on to other things by now. I'm not implying that they died. Th-th-that’s not what I meant. Uh, anyway I better not take up too much of your time. Things start getting real tonight."

Why did they even bother playing this shit? This wasn't helping, and it was shattering his nerves. He wished he could turn the damn thing off already.

"Uh... Hey, listen, I had an idea: if you happen to get caught and want to avoid getting stuffed into a Freddy suit, uhh, try playing dead! You know, go limp. Then there's a chance that, uh, maybe they’ll think that you're an empty costume instead. Then again if they think you're an empty costume, they might try to... stuff a metal skeleton into you. I wonder how that would work. Yeah, never mind, scratch that. It's best just not to get caught."

Taking a moment to give the phone an incredulous look, Mike shook his head. Him and Sal were going to have a talk about these fucking training recordings. No more. Even if he had to remake them himself. This was NOT okay.

"Um... Ok, I'll leave you to it. See you on the flip side!"

Mike was happy for the silence.

The very short-lived silence.

An echoing laugh bounced through the halls before finding Mike's pale form. There was no joy in it's sound, it was forced and disturbed laugh. It almost sounded fake, too deep and slow for a regular voice. Robotic. Wishful thinking could put it up as another hallucination, but Mike didn't have time for wishful thinking. The monitors agreed.

Camera A1: Showstage.

Empty.

For the first time since the power ran out, Freddy was on the move. Mike's internal screaming nearly turned external. Luckily, he was so busy switching through the channels, he couldn't be bothered to scream when he could be finding the band instead. Pirate's Cove was quiet at least. Silver linings. He had to track the trio down quick, but something caught his eye while he switched through the monitors. The building looked more rundown than usual, and some of the new...'art' was downright disturbing. Crying children and deformed versions of the characters to name a few. Everything felt so out of place. He found Bonnie in her closet, heard Chica in the Kitchen, and even managed to find Freddy's head poking out of the girl's bathroom. Still, something felt...missing here. He couldn't name what it was, but it kept him switching through the channels, searching and sifting through the discrepancies.

It took a few turns, but he finally found what he was looking for. It was sitting on the backstage table between an endoskeleton, and a spare Bonnie head.

"Hello?"