#p87lore

There was no engagement with it for two days, and it, like nearly every other post circled the drain, bobbing along the “found dog” and “stolen tools” posts.

Till the anonymous user bumped their post, simply including a link to one Robin Graves’ journalistic work. The glaring image of the building in all of its former glory splashed with gore for a particularly tasty bit of newswork.

“I thought I recognized the name,” another poster commented.

“I do too. I thought they were shut down for good.”

“Oh yeah!!” One poster chirped. “Loved that place! My mom took me there. Always was sad when I went by the building after it was gone..”

Another chimed in. “Was that the sh*tty haunted house that burned down before it opened? I thought that was based on an urban legend. -Ryan”

Pam then responded to the thread. Simply. “It was real.”

Another user, apparently took offense. “Someone clearly doesn’t know local history, Ryan. That business was a stain on our city. Every time they cobble another one together, we get a slate of missing children. Real peoples kids. Some families moved away. Some stayed. Every incarnation Fazbears’s should stay in the ashes of the one that just burned down. Respect the families.”

Ryan, who must have been waiting for a response replied within two minutes.

“I am local. I just don’t remember anything like that. -Ryan”

The next reply was even quicker. “Then you must be a child, Ryan. This happened years and years ago. You also don’t need to sign your posts. We know which one is you.”

There was a pause. The same pause in the moments when you know two titans are breathing their steadying breaths, the scent of sand and sawdust, the motes of dust floating in the light, as one exhales, muscles bunching, and the fight begins.

Ryan’s next post was tactical.

“Okay, boomer. -Ryan”

With that, the tension dissolved, and Pam posted again.

“We should protest. We don’t need that in our city.”

“You’re right.” Another user posted. “We should.”

“Well,” responded another user, with “council” under their username. “That will take permits and other protocols. Why not bring it up at the next city council meeting?”

He paused briefly, leaning against the doorframe of the silent kitchen, remembering Ezra scraping out the walk in refrigerators, complaining about whatever solidified lump of whatever he’d just squeegeed out into the light.

With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the doorframe, and made his way down the hall, stopping in the silent work bench, remembering Maddie and Isaac bickering over how code was supposed be written.

He reached over and gripped the doorknob, pulling the door closed.

He then went out into the dining area.  Sitting in absolute stillness, supernaturally quiet.  The frames of the stage, the main floor, the large boxes of what would be booths in time.

He stood in the middle of it, the scent of sawdust dry in his throat.

What… is… he doing?

Is this… what he was supposed to be doing?  Was he doing it because … it was… what would be best for the world?  Or… is he the one lighting the feathers of a Phoenix, only for the goddamn thing to explode again, die, and crawl out of the grave like …

Like those things…

He swallowed, and looked around, suddenly feeling very young and very old at the same time.  He remembered that feeling of standing in front of the stage, all of the magic, all of the…

Joy.

He needed this.  Was this for him?  Was he just trying to grab desperately to days that were better, before he’d packed on weight and the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulders.  Now?  He knew to much, he knew so much.

And Mike.  What… the hell was going on there?

He looked at the stage, his eyes blinking, stinging, as he did a slow circle, the memory and the reality overlapping.

He thought of his employees.  Thought about what they had seen.  What he’d already covered up.

How far was he willing to go?

And… on that note, how far was Mike willing to go.

He shook his head.

It wasn’t even sunk cost fallacy at this point.  He was too deep.  He felt it, like a dark wind collecting.  He couldn’t ignore it.

“Hello?” she said, trying to inject some excitement into her flat tone.

“Maddie, have you seen the news at all?” came the breathy voice on the other side.

Damn it, Maddie thought.  While her friend didn’t live up to her name of Karen, she was absolutely a gossip, and anything Maddie said would need to be couched with utmost caution.  She really, really didn’t want to deal with this now, as she had just gotten an ear full from one of her professors that she kept in contact with.

“Hm?” She hummed innocently, as if she had no clue why the absolute gossip of their friends group was contacting her directly for only the juiciest news that she could spread about like some kind of vulture.

“Oh my god,” Karen breathed, as if Maddie had no idea what she were talking about.

“So, I wouldn’t have believed it myself, but Jessie today said that there’s an article in the newspaper all about that place you’re working at.”

Maddie sighed, she’d literally had just this very same conversation with Dr. Forrest, her Ethics in Robotics professor. “Oh?” Maddie said, feeling her tone sour, but Karen was never one to read much into tone.

“Oh my god, Maddie!  Did you know about the murders?”

“I thought the article said that there were some unrelated disappearances.”  Maddie corrected flatly.

“They never found the bodies!”  Karen gasped conspiratorially.

“Uh huh,” Maddie said, trying to inject as much disinterest into the vague noise she’d just made.

“Children, Maddie!”

“Okay, listen, Karen…”. Maddie breathed.  “The whole thing.”

“It happened twice!”

Maddie sighed.  “Listen, Karen.  Listen to my words.  These Freddy’s things were everywhere back in the day.  A couple of kids disappearing from one or two isn’t their fault.  Kids disappear from Theme parks all of the time.  This woman’s just trying to make more of a mess from a tragedy to make a name for herself.  Robin Graves?  Are you kidding me?  That’s not her name, that’s a verb.” Maddie groaned.

Karen was quiet a moment, as Maddie sighed.  “Listen,” Maddie said.  “I’m not blaming Disney for any of the people who have gone missing on their property over the years.  I’m not suddenly shouting that Disney is full of the corpses of missing kids.  When you get a popular property, that’s how things go.  People will sensationalize things.”

But during this speech, she felt her determination waver. Wasn’t it her that had gone to the Library looking for information?  Wasn’t it her that had compiled the same information?

What had driven her to delve into old newspapers?

The disappearances?

The missing children?

“Maddie?” came Karen’s voice.  “Are you there?”

“Yeah.  Yeah,” she breathed.

“Listen.  I just…the stories.  The way it’s written, the interviews with former employees…”. Karen’s voice grew soft.  It wasn’t the roving hyena looking for a snippet of information that she could pass on to everyone in her friend’s list, but something like concern.  “Just… be careful.  They don’t seem like they’re on the up and up.  Make sure you get paid for your work…and, get out if anything’s gone weird.”

Maddie felt the laugh build up in her lungs, but she silenced them.  Wouldn’t Karen just love to hear that things have been very weird while she was working there.

“Yeah,” she murmured, in that same noncommittal tone.  “If things get weird, I’ll get out.”

As they said their goodbyes Maddie made her way to Robin’s story.  She’d glanced over it before, but this time, she slid down onto her soft couch, re-reading it.

Maybe she should quit.

The thought bubbled up like scum on a pond, through the darkness, and to the surface, breaking free to dissipate like fog on top of the water.

She looked at the articles, the papers, the information she’d managed to gather.  Picking at her lower lip, she hooded her eyes.

There were so many reasons she couldn’t quit.  The pay was good, the hours were flexible, she was genuinely enjoying the work, except the infectious code from before which was still eluding her.

And she thought about telling Lucas his only functional engineer was quitting, and she could just imagine the begging.

She couldn’t leave Them like that.

The one thing that he did forget to do on this particular morning, is to turn on his phone. If he'd have actually done so, he would have woken up immediately to the noises it makes - the noises of screaming bloody murder, notifying him of the numerous amounts of calls he missed. Calls that Lucas made, in the wake of the news articles criticizing his involvement with the new Freddy's building, as well as his past with Fazbear Frights. He is beyond frustrated, and Isaac would be the one he would turn to, if, Isaac would be available to be called, of course.

But he is not.