Fredrica's ch7 p1

Getting to your feet was a task of pure determination. The pain was sharp and burning. Your left foot had probably impacted first, since it hurt the most. It was probably very broken. The mess of a robot does her best to help you to your feet, as do the other two men. You take a few steps, gritting your teeth hard. You try to play off the pain you’re in so none of them worry or feel they have to slow down because of you. If anyone was going to save Bonnie, it was going to be you.

Once you’re stable, the Toy Foxy skitters up the wall, onto the ceiling, covered in various wires. She makes quick work of the power supply to the heavy metal door. Once it’s disconnected, the slab of steel begins to rise. “L-l-let me t-take you to your f-f-ffriends.” The spider-like bot hums, getting to the floor and immediately sticking to your side to assist you in walking. She had scanned you, so more than likely, she was aware just how injured your body was.

The hallways were like a maze of stark white walls and sterile fluorescent lighting. With all the money flowing around this deal with some big company, the lease they could have done was maybe slap some paint up in their evil underground laboratory. After several minutes of walking, the robot’s ears prick up and her eye begins to glow. Almost like a hound, she points to a door.

Your heart begins to pound. You feel around in your pocket for your weapon, but of course, it’s gone. If they had all that time to cuff and move you, of course they looted your pockets. “They took my stun gun…” You whisper under your breath.

The mangled robot looks up at you. “w-w-we’ll manage.” She says comfortingly, a mischievous little note to her tone. Gary opens the door.

You nearly jump when you see a guard, seated at a messy desk, but calm down when you hear him snoring loudly. It was pretty late, after all. Beyond him was another steel door. The panel on the wall beside it seems to require some sort of keycard. Judging by this office’s finished ceilings, simply disconnecting the system wasn’t going to be an option, or at least not one that wouldn’t make a whole ton of noise. As if by some act of fate, the sleeping man rolls a bit into a better position, revealing just the card in question, clipped to his shirt pocket. You all nod to one another and Daddy creeps forward on his tip toes.

He reaches out a slender hand and zeros in on the clip. Within an inch of it, the man turns over again, hiding the card beneath his plentiful fat rolls. Your boss clenches his hands into fists in frustration and holds in a few obscenities.

Before this delicate act can go on any longer, with a hollow cracking sound similar to an aluminum bat hitting a speedy baseball, your robot companion swings one of her metal limbs and makes a hard impact directly to the fat man’s skull. He flops out of his chair, very much knocked out. At least you hope he’s just knocked out. She lets out a harsh chuckle, The voice seeming to originate from her other, less complete head. “I’ve ALWAYS w-w-wanted to do ttt-tt-that!” It says with a grin.

Daddy gingerly plucks the card off the man and swipes it through the door lock. “Thank you, Miss~” He hums, patting her gently on both heads. She gives only an affectionate little giggle, both heads in stereo, in response.

The door rises into the ceiling and you all walk inside. Your heart sinks for more reasons than one. Foxy and Chica are there, along with Carla. They’re flopped lifelessly against a wall, their eyes black and still. They don’t appear to be damaged, but their state still disturbs you. Daddy immediately goes to Foxy, and Gary goes to Chica. In an action that is no doubt reflexive by this point, the men slide their fingers along the girls’ necks, squeezing their digits into the slim gap between the back of the robots’ necks and heads. They hold in that position for a few seconds, assumedly pushing down hidden buttons.

The robots’ eyes, like a freshly turned on TV, go solid blue as their bodies come back online. Some clicks and clacks and the whirr of internal fans sound off. Daddy give a sigh of relieve. “They were just powered down,” He says, probably reassuring himself just as much as everyone else.

Foxy is the first to wake up, shaking her head a little like a person would when trying to shake of some morning grogginess. Her eyes wobble, then lock on to the human holding her. “D-daddy?” She asks him. He just nods. She sits up and stretches a little, then settles her golden gaze on you. “Good to see you’re still standing despite all of your internal injuries.” She says in her usual flat voice.

Chica activates far less gracefully, the first words coming from her voice box being, “GOD FUCKIN DAMN IT.” She sits up quickly, “SEE this is why ya never trust a fuckin cupcake’s plans! 92.something-something% success rate my ass!”

Gary had moved on to Carla, who booted up even faster than the others. She looked just as riled up as Chica. The bird looked down at the minibot. “No offense to ya, Carla. You’re the awesome cupcake.” She nods, accepting the title without question.

Tactful as ever, the busty birdy spies the Toy Foxy by your side. “WHAT THE SHITTING FUCK IS THAT!?” She lurches away, getting closer to the wall.

Daddy clears his throat, “This is Toy Foxy, or Miss Foxy as I believe they called her. She has been very helpful and wants to come back to the theatre when all this is over to get fixed up, like I did with you. She can’t help her state right now, so try to at least be a little nice to her.”

Chica still eyes her suspiciously, “So long as she ain’t some kind a spy leadin us into a trap.”

“A-a-after w-ww-w-hat they did t-t-o m-mmme, I h-h-have no aa-allegiance to tht-th-ese monsters.” The mish-mashed fox stutters rather sincerely.

The girls get to their feet, Foxy picking up Carla holding her in her arms. The vixen frowns. “They knew where our power buttons are located and purposely aimed there. Obviously they have looked over the blueprints already. We need to get moving.”

You nod, leading the way out as best you can.