Unlicensed Firearm (weapons series II)

The room was completely empty of life.

There wasn't a head poking out from above the chair. No arm hanging lazily above the ground, slung from a rest.

The chair wasn't entirely emptied, though. It spun slowly and silently, the office fan being the only source of sound in the room. It was accompanied by a handful of broken monitors, scraps of paper, and a metal cupcake wrapper. The fact that a metal muffin wasn't in it's wrapper was the least of my problems right now.

Industrial-grade metal doors stood on the east and west sides of the room. The West door was shut, while the east was wide open into the suffocating darkness of the early morning. Red, rectangular buttons evidently controlled them. The black, plush office chair looked comfortable, as if one could sleep in it, until I saw, nestled in the seat cushion, a tablet. In a morbid turn of events, the chair ceased it's rotation just as it faced me.

I walked over, and felt the floor tiles sink beneath my feet in the process of doing so. Felt mushy and damp, oddly enough. Posters and drawings of the restaurant's robots littered the walls.

My attention was on the tablet though. I felt around for a button on the device, and pushed it. The screen flickered to life, and displayed a hallway in a lens, tinted black and white. A little map, of boxes and squares, showed that it was on my right, with a little box captioned by "YOU" placing my at the far end of the pizza place, as expected. I was apparently viewing "CAM 4A". I also found out that my power was draining, at about 47%, emphasized by a bar demonstrating the generator's power usage.

I plunked myself down in Phil's chair, and felt a nice, sticky warmth in the seat, and felt sweat on the chair's armrests. I realized then, the likelihood of the guy still being here just increased ten-fold. Guess I was getting my money's worth after all. Maybe I could find him on the cameras. Taking his job, to take him out. I chuckled out loud at the irony.

In retrospect, out of respect for the poor son of a bitch's soul,  I really wish I hadn't looked at the cameras.

I flicked around from room to room. Nothing was. There weren't any robots on stage or wandering about, or doing anything.  He wasn't in the hallways, nor in the closets by the west hallway. Skimming each room and gleaning info, I paused when I hit a particular camera. "CAM 1C".

Pirate's Cove. This was Foxy the Pirate's domain. After the bite incident, I didn't think they'd even have a Cove, considering the way the Foxy brand was dragged through the mud by the local media. The curtain was wide open, to reveal an "Out of Order" sign. Pitch black stretched beyond the sign.

That'd be my first stop. I could also then check behind the stage curtains in the Party Room. Last resort would be in the kitchen, though in a place like this I doubt anyone would want a midnight snack. In addition, the visual feed's failure made me less than eager to investigate in that area first. The whole, muteness of the place left me uneasy. One last check, was in the Backstage area. Just supplies I guessed, but the robot heads, all except one, were angled towards my camera. Guess that ended my camera session a bit early.

Using my pocket flashlight, I checked both hallways for any sign of life, before I pushed the button to let me outside the office on the left. Zilch, unfortunately. In my right pocket was a hunting knife and some tranquilizer, and in my left armpit I carried the tablet.

The floors outside felt sticky, like a soda was spilled on it and allowed to harden.  I'd check the closet again later, if I was unsuccessful. The door was shut and locked, so it isn't like I could get in if I wanted to anyways.

I made my way up the corridor, noticing that the lights were flickering on and off, rapidly; creating a strobe effect. I've got a stomach of iron, so I could tolerate it. But if this shit was what Phil had to deal with, I suppose I couldn't blame him for pissing on the sixth floor carpeting. If I had to do the same song and dance every night, I'd go a little crazy too, you know.

I opened the bar-door to enter Pirate's Cove, and...

What?

It's just a hallway, leading straight up. I walked down the hallway, looking for any sign to point me to the Cove, but no.

Just "<---Party Room"

I scanned the walls with a flashlight, but nothing to enter the Cove. I released my left arm's pressure, and checked my tablet.

Well, it wasn't entirely broken. That's great. A GPS unit was evidently installed in the thing, the "YOU" caption now in "CAM 1C". But now, the visual feed to Foxy's home was cut out.

Maybe the map was just off the fritz tonight, but it got under my skin more than it should have. I would need to check in case the prick comes out of hiding from there.

I entered the Party Room instead, and a wave of stenches assaulted my nostrils. Rotten bread, vomit, the works. I power-walked at a brisk pace, and pulled myself onto the stage.

Now to see what's under the curtain, and lift this veil of mystery!

White spread across a patch in the room, revealing a grinning man.

Shit, no! It was one of the show characters. Wherever the big stars were, he was obviously missing out on the fun. A little fat kid in a hat...Or it at least used to be one. It's arms were missing, leaving sleeved stumps, and  it's lower jaw had rotted away, leaving a little maw of stringy plastic underneath the upper jaw. It was also an amputee from the knees down, just.. Plucked off like a fly. The eyes were missing as well, leaving a sick impression of a dead child, the abyss being devoid of soul. A rack hung near-by, and as I tried my best to avoid making contact with the Krippled Karcass Kid, I shone light on it.

A set of purple Freddy Fazbear Secure-It Squad uniforms were hanging from it. The purple jumpsuit and hat looked absolutely garish, and I scoffed at the name. "S.I.S."

I shone my light around further, revealing nothing. Just a bin of old Freddy Fazbear heads and some toys, sitting next to the boy.

Here, I checked my cameras. I could actually see me through the gap in the curtains I made. I flicked around again, checking to see if the Cove had cleared up. Indeed it did, and the cams actually turned a bit further than they normally did. They revealed a little door to the west of it. The path had to be through the back-stage area, then.

I flicked over to see if the Kitchen had gone through the same fate again, but no luck. Checking the hallway cams one last time before I headed out again.

Freddy stood from inside the office. He stared out from beneath the cameras at seemingly nothing, his iconic hat just touching the bottom of the screen.

Shit, they're supposed to have criminal databases installed in them. I remember reading that when the original place was open, and being more impressed by that, then the fact they can sing and dance. I've always been a technical guy.

Now, I've got a even more sordid past than you'd think. It's pretty complicated, but I wouldn't want my landlord to know about it , to be blunt with you.

I glanced over at the rack again.

"Looks like I'm working the graveyard shift", I sighed, as I begin to don the purple outfit.

I felt a hard piece of rubber by my thigh, and manipulated my fingers inside of it.

A holster.

Fuck.