Gotta End Somewhere (Proto-Pension sequel)

As Mike drove off into the distance, he wondered. He wondered about what happened, and whether or not to feel guilt about any of it.

It was Mike’s fourth night on the job, and his advisor had been murdered. Or worse. There’s no doubt about it; the man on the phone was a goner. He had been taken like the animatronics. Like the dozens and dozens of men and women Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza chews up and spits out to some god forsaken place.  Mike wasn’t sure where they went, just that they went missing. He wasn’t religious, either. But Freddy’s was the closest thing to Hell on earth.

When the realization of what had happened to his co-worker hit him, Mike panicked. He tried to escape. When he turned around, and reached for for the door handle, his hand found nothing. His gaze  was met by a large mural that covered the back of the office. The entirety of the wall was solid concrete, painted over with a smiling depiction of Freddy and his bandmates. It was only 11:55, so Mike decided to run for the other employee exit. The front exit would be his escape route.

He made his way to the Party Room, and in a rush, slipped. The janitors hadn’t put up any warning signs about their handiwork. The sight of Freddy Fazbear looming over him gave Mike a shock that would subside when he realized that it was just the bear’s pose on stage.

In a rush, Mike hurried to the front door and moved to open it. It wouldn’t budge. He threw his shoulder into it, again. Nothing. He then noticed the glass windows on both sides of the door. The time was 11:58, so he’d have to think fast.

Turning back to the stage, he saw Chica and her cupcake. He climbed onto the stage, and wrested it from her grasp. The metal cupcake was heavy. Much heavier than he expected.

Perfect.

With a hearty heave, the glass was cracked. Mike’s foot kicked in the window, and he pulled himself through the sill and out onto the sidewalk.

Mike ran to his car, and before he climbed in, he saw the three figures. Now off the stage, they were staring at him. Emotionless. They were just staring.

Mike drove back to his house. He locked every door in the house, including the door to his bedroom. He lowered all the blinds, and drank to calm his nerves while he listened to the radio. At 1:00 am he finally drifted off to an uneasy sleep, the visions of Freddy’s eyes a constant reminder in his dreams.

When Mike woke up, it was at 12 pm. He was going to the kitchen to pour some Count Chocula, when he saw an envelope slip through his mailbox. He tore open the envelope. It was a Freddy Fazbear postcard, with “Wish you were here!” written on it. On the other side...

Dear Valued Fan,
We here at Freddy Funtime Inc. have heard your wish! Cancer is a difficult thing to deal with. Many similar cases have happened to our own employees, so we understand the trouble you are going through. We know how much you miss Chica’s delicious pizza, Bonnie’s bodacious riffs, and Freddy’s impressive singing. And we’ve also heard how much it pangs you to be unable to see them. After consulting with Freddy Fazbear himself, we have brought Freddy Fazbear Pizza’s cooking, band, and most importantly the spirit to YOUR HOME!

With warm wishes,
JACOB J GOLDSTEIN
CEO of Freddy Funtime Inc.

As Mike dropped the letter, he heard the music start, the smoke alarm ringing, and horrifyingly out of tune guitar notes all at once.


Here’s to three more years, I guess.