The Imposter

The start of something beautiful.

Satisfied, Ron sat down in his chair. After months of legal battles and squabbling, he and Dave were finally able to open up the newest incarnation of the Fazbear brand. Only compromise was that they couldn’t refer to any of the props by their actual names or sell food. Both of these stipulations weren’t the worst outcome of their struggles, especially now that public interest piqued considerably after the lawsuits.

Of course, there was always the possibility of sabotage- a disgruntled board member or two may try to hire some hoodlums to bash the place to bits, especially when Fazbear’s Fright blows all of their history out into the open. Which is why Ron’s watching over the place for the week.  This building is more than just a haunted house. It’s a museum.

That said, Ron was still allowed to have a little fun. He and Dave did have a few scares in store, after all. He swiveled around in the chair to look at the office and it’s various props. Just to make sure everything was in the right place for the exhibits. Dave was the real brawn behind the operations- hunting for memorabilia and being real picky about where everything was placed. For now though, everything they bought out of their own pockets was crammed into a cardboard box in the corner.

The box was too small for the content, which included alleged shell pieces for the “Toy” line of animatronics in 1987,  Overflowing with historical goodies, like Foxy’s hook arm or some paper plate men made by the kids at one of the past incarnations of the brand. One plate man was tacked onto the wall, it’s eyes drawn as if it was staring down at the surviving collection.  Of course, all these were small potatoes compared to the robot.

It was one of those spring-loaded costumes back in the 80’s, and  was used for a few years before it got retired because of the springlocks incident. It was also one of the earliest incarnations of Bonnie, which lends it some uniqueness because of it’s golden coloring. After the closure and condemning of the original Freddy’s, it was forgotten about by the public, and left to rot. Nobody wanted to look for it, except Dave. Dave did his homework, and boy did he flip his shit when he-

The plate man had fallen into the box.  Again?

Ron sighed as  he wheeled over to it, and started digging in the box, until he felt the  tissue-paper arm of a paper plate man in his fingertips. He reached further, and found the plate. He gripped it, and pulled it out, just as he felt a sharp pain in his hand. Ron cursed under his breath as he drew his right hand towards him, dropping the plate-man onto the floor. His hand had been sliced, in a  straight line from his knuckles to his wrist. Blood dribbled out of the crevice, matting the hair on his hands a shade of crimson. Below him in the box, he saw the blood-stained hook of Foxy. “We’ll have to take care of that soon,” Ron thought as he got out of his chair, and left the room.

The museum became much emptier the second Ron stepped out of the door, with Freddy’s hollow torso and head slung on a pole. As he stepped down the hall,  he thought of the decayed rabbit costume lying slumped somewhere in a room not far from here.  The thing’s lips had rotten away at some point, showing only the teeth in some twisted, Cheshire Cat grin. It’s fur had yellowed into a putrid green with age, and the eyes a dead gray. Should they really be messing around with this thing? And nobody’s even tried wearing it, or see if it got autopilot.

As he turned the corner to enter the bathroom, Ron tried to push the thought of the springsuit out of his head. Feeling his way for the first-aid kit, he grabbed it and released the plastic latch, swinging it open.  He began wrapping his wound in gauze, and as he tore off the roll from his wrappings, he heard a child’s voice.

“Hello?”

Ron stopped for a moment, not quite sure how to answer.  It came from right outside the bathrooms in the hallway, near the arcade. He’d heard of the paranormal shit that supposedly used to go down here, from ex-employees and conspiracy theorists alike. But he never thought he’d actually run into it.  There shouldn’t be much room for whatever programming errors could’ve caused the animatronics to act as aggressively as they did towards the night watchment, and nobody should be “haunting” the springsuit or whatever. If someone got crammed into it, Dave would know for sure. It’d show, considering how lean and decayed the robot is.

Ron stepped out into the hallway. Humoring himself, he said out loud “Yes?”

The voice answered back, it’s direction still in the same hall, but closer to the office.

“Hi.”

Ron walked down towards his office, slowly.

“I just- I don’t want to hurt you”, he said. “I’m just here to keep you all safe.”

No answer.

He reached the doorway, and the rabbit stepped out. At least two feet taller than he was, the Springthing loomed over him like a twisted shadow. It’s eyes’ stare pierced his own without even moving.

“Boo”, it said without talking.

Ron turned, and booked it down the hall. He didn’t look back, as he slid for the yawning chasm of an open vent. The darkness swallowed him as he plunged inwards, just as the cover descended upon his leg. It caved under the pressure, and he could not resist a yelp as his bones splintered underneath it. He was situated on a slope downwards, which led to a ladder, illuminated by the light source above apparently. He inched forward futilely, as if he could get to it it by reaching for it enough, just as something pierced his leg on the outside of the vent and tore a sizable chunk away. Ron screamed, and heard metal shift rapidly, one two one two in a rhythm. The beat echoed down the hall and faded away, until it began getting louder and louder again.

The rabbit descended the ladder with astonishing grace,  and stood before him in the darkness, clutching the gore-spattered arm of Foxy. It writhed and flailed violently, as if it was a thing of it’s own agency. The robot’s  teeth glowed in the light.

“I won’t kill you,” it rasped. “If you can promise me a big favor later on.”

Ron nodded, tearfully.

“Y-yes”, Ron said.

“Alright,” said Bonnie. It stepped closer, and reached out a hand. It was bigger than Ron’s head. “But I warn you, this’ll hurt a bit”, Bonnie said as it wrapped the hand and it’s fingers  around Ron’s face.