The Birthday
PART ONE
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"C'mon, you guys," Alex called. "Let's go to the vending machine."
William pulled out the Foxy the Pirate action figure from his pocket and rubbed his finger over its eye patch like he did whenever he was nervous.
He had been thrilled when Alex Lee had invited him to his ninth birthday party at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, but there had been a catch: Other kids. There were three other kids there: Bobby Gino, Diana Parker, and Allison Bell. William's mom had been friends with Allison's mom since they were in high school, so naturally William and Allison were expected to get along, which they did. Even though Allison was only six, two years younger than William, he liked to go to her house across the street to play with her Legos. When it was nice outside, they would race each other to the park on their bikes, where they would play in the sandbox for hours trying to make the tallest sandcastle. They competed a lot, but it was all fun.
Now, William followed behind Allison as they got in line for the vending machine, each with a quarter in hand. He was last in line, which was fine by him. He had always been the one at a party to hang back and watch everyone else laugh and play. William Anderson, the quiet kid that always stayed indoors. He was okay around Allison, but incredibly shy around other people, even his parents.
Pictures of the animatronics at the pizzeria filled the posters on the walls. Bonnie the Bunny had always scared William, even with her cheerful lavender paint job. Then there was Chica the Chicken, who always held a pink cupcake, Foxy the Pirate Fox (William's favorite) and Freddy Fazbear, the mascot of the pizzeria. Most of the animatronics scared him, but not as much as The Marionette. The Marionette was a puppet that stayed inside the music box. Everyday, a kid would get to wind up the music box, and the Marionette would pop out and hand them a gift. He may be friendly, but he gave William the shudders. He had an all white face, with two black slits for eyes, a blank, dark hole for his mouth, and a very skinny, black body that looked exactly like a floppy stick figure. What looked the creepiest, though, were the two vertical purple lines that went down under his eyes, as if he were crying. William guessed that he was supposed to look like a clown of some sort, but whoever had THAT idea hadn't done a good job of making him look like one.
"Hey!" Diana's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "What is that?"
The other kids looked up from their snacks to where Bobby was pointing. It was what looked like a man in one of those mascot suits, the kind that had always terrified William. The suit looked like it had once been a golden bear, but a layer of dust caked the surface, turning it a murky yellow color. A tiny black top hat rested between two round ears on his head, and his mouth hung open, revealing a gaping black space.
He seemed to be calling them.
"It's just a dumb guy in a suit," Bobby said.
"I think he's calling us over there," Alex said. "Let's go check it out."
"Maybe he'll have candy for us!" Allison exclaimed in her squeaky little voice. Her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders looked golden in the sunlight.
The other kids were getting up from the table and parading through the door in the dining area.
"Wait!" William cried. Everyone turned around to stare at him. Immediately his throat went dry. "Uh... My... My mom said to stay where she could see me."
"Aw, who cares?" Bobby demanded. He had always struck William as intimidating, with his broad frame, fierce brown eyes, and red curls.
Diana stared at William in that way that always made him uneasy. Her dark eyes surveyed him disapprovingly, and her bright clothes clashed with her chocolate brown skin in a way that made her seem fashionable and popular, which she was. People like that made William want to run home and hide under his bed with his Foxy the Pirate action figure.
"You don't have to be such a baby, William," Alex said. He was the kind of kid who always got good grades, but still managed to be in the popular crowd. He had green glasses, brown eyes, and dark, wavy hair framing his face.
"William?" Allison looked up at him with those bright blue eyes. "You are coming with us, right?"
William turned to look nervously at each of them: Bobby, then Alex, then Diana, and then Allison.
"Um..." he stuttered "Well... Maybe for a little while..."
"Yaay!" Allison's face broke into a huge grin. "Let's go."
The five children walked down the black and red tiled floors, past the cheesy posters on the walls with things like "CELEBRATE!" and "LET'S PARTY!" jumping out at them in tacky yellow colors. William caught eye of his reflection in one of the closed glass doors. A pale, skinny boy stared back at him through apprehensive brown eyes barely visible under tousled, blonde hair. He rubbed his Foxy action figure again.
"Hey, where did he go?" Diana asked.
"There!" Alex pointed. A sliver of yellow was barely visible at the corner of Pirate Cove. They ran toward it.
They were running along the left wall now. The bear was just up in front. He opened a door and went inside.
Alex, who was in the front, stopped. "It says EMPLOYEES ONLY." he said, peering at the sign on the door.
"Are you an employee?" Allison asked, looking up at William.
"Uh... No?" he replied.
"Why would he lead us somewhere we're not allowed?" Alex
asked.
"Who cares?" Bobby said. It seemed to be his phrase of the day. "If he has candy, then that's good enough for me. I'm going in."
Bobby turned the door handle and opened the door half way, and the five of them peeked in.
William couldn't see anything from where he was standing. It was dark, but from the light flooding in through the door he could make out a small room with some costumes that looked like the animatronics from the show that took place at the pizzeria everyday. A wooden table was pushed to the back wall, littered with magazines, Freddy Fazbear posters, and a half-eaten croissant. A bulletin board took up one of the walls, with newspaper clippings tacked up here and there. A wardrobe stood on the wall next to the door, with one door hanging open and clothes and costumes spilling out. No sign of the yellow bear.
"Look!" Diana whispered. She pointed toward the back wall, where a vent was set about three feet above the ground. It was big and square, and so wide that William could fit inside if he crouched really low. But what was so strange about it was that it was open--- The cover was propped up against the wall next to it--- And a pile of candy was sitting in the entrance, a mountain of Mars bars, Snickers, Twix, and who knew what else.
Allison gasped. "Candy!" she shrieked.
"Let's go get it!" said Bobby.
"No!" William yelled. "It... It looks dangerous! Allison---" he grabbed Allison by the shoulder, squeezing a bit too hard.
"Ow!" she cried, pulling away. "Stop it, William! You're being really bossy. You're no fun!" She turned around and followed the other three into the vent.
William sighed. He never should have followed them. He could have stayed behind, but he didn't. Now even Allison, his only real friend, hated him for being a baby.
William's eyes stung, and he stifled a sob. No, he would not cry. It was too dark to see, but he couldn't risk being called a baby again. He had no choice but to follow.
PART TWO
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It was dark, but from the little light streaming in through the door, William managed to stumble toward the vent--- but not before stubbing his toe on the table.
He winced, sudden tears blurring his vision. Quickly, he wiped them away, looking to make sure no one saw, but the others were nowhere to be found.
"Um... Guys?" He called out. "Allison?"
The sound of giggling floated out of the vent. They had crawled all the way inside. William took a deep breath. He really didn't want to go in, but what other choice did he have? Staying here in the dark, off-limits room was out of the question. If he went back down the hall to the Party Room, the adults would ask him where Allison was, and he would have to tell them everything. Being a baby was bad enough, but a tattletale was a whole other level that William didn't want to go on.
William pulled out the Foxy figure and rubbed its eye patch. The smooth, warm plastic felt familiar in his fingers and made him feel just a bit braver. Pocketing the action figure, William turned around and crawled into the vent.
Inside, the air was damp and cool. The vent was unusually large, and William could fit thanks to his skinny frame, but he still had to crouch into an uncomfortable posture to crawl through. He wondered how Bobby had fit.
Where was Bobby? Where was everyone else? Gingerly, William put one hand in front of him and started crawling, the thud of his sneakers echoing through the vent.
The vent went straight ahead, then took a sharp turn right. The metal floor and walls were caked with dust and grime. The whir of an exhaust fan sounded somewhere up ahead. William kept going, squeezed through the turn, and saw a mane of familiar blonde hair.
"Allison!" he exclaimed. Allison whipped around, nearly banging her head on the wall.
"William!" she said. "Where were you? Bobby took all the candy!" Even in the dark, her bright blue eyes looked anxious. "I don't like this place, Will. Let's go back."
"Where are the others?"
"I don't know! I turned around for a minute, and when I looked back, they were gone."
Drip, drip, drip. Drops started falling on William's head.
"This place is leaking," he said. "Let's go, Allison." They turned around and William lead the way back, retracing his steps from before. Forward, left turn, keep going, and---
"Oh no!" William cried. "The vent... It's... It's closed!" He was right. While they were inside, someone had screwed the vent cover back in place.
"Now what?" Allison asked. She was usually the brave one, but now she looked really scared, even by William's standards.
"Calm down, Allison," he said, desperately looking around. "Maybe there's another way. All the vents in the pizzeria can't be closed, right?"
He started to crawl the other way, but Allison stopped him. "Wait! What if someone opens the vent when we leave?"
"Uh..." William racked his brains. "I'll stay here and guard the opening. You go look for another way out---" he paused when he saw Allison's expression. He had never, ever in all his years growing up with Allison, seen her look so scared.
"Allison?" He said. "Allison--- What is it?"
The little girl turned her terrified blue eyes to William. "Can... Can we switch?"
"Switch?" William asked, surprised. "Um... Okay, then. You stay right here and DON'T MOVE."
Allison nodded, looking very relieved. "Thanks, Will. You're really brave."
William took a deep breath, rubbing his Foxy action figure for luck, and started into the vent. Drip, drip, drip. Water was leaking again. So this is what it's like to be brave, William thought. He always assumed it felt good, like nothing could stop you, but he felt pretty terrible. For one thing, he was terrified. Crawling through this pitch black vent was NOT fun, at all. Then why had Allison just called him brave?
He realized, as he plodded along forward, that being brave wasn't just not being afraid of anything. It was being able to keep going, even when you were completely terrified.
Am I really that brave? he thought to himself. Allison had looked really worried back there when he had mentioned going back into the vent's endless tunnels. What was she so afraid of? Where were the others? How far had they gone? And was anyone ever going to find the way out of the vents?
Drip-drip-drip-drip. The water was leaking even more now. Big drops fell from cracks in the ceiling, dropping onto the steel floor with a steady 'plink, plink' sound.
CREEEAAAAK. Something was creaking above him. All of William's courage abandoned him as he realized his fate. This place was coming apart.
As fast as he possibly could, he turned around and started crawling back to where he had come from.
Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud. He didn't know if that was his heart or his feet. Hopefully his feet.
The dripping was getting louder, closer, rapidly increasing with each second.
Then it happened. The water broke a hole in the ceiling. Freezing water gushed out of the ceiling right on top of William's head. He crawled away, sputtering, but just then another hole burst in the ceiling, causing him to press himself against the metal wall.
He crawled faster and faster through the vents, sliding away from more and more leaks. Cold water seeped into his sneakers. His shirt was drenched.
Finally, he saw a light at the end of the passage, faint, but definitely there. His heart pounded as he approached. He was sure this was where he had left Allison. Just through this next turn, and---
"What?" He gasped. For one thing, Allison was gone. But also, the vent door was open.
SPLASH. The water had punched another hole in the ceiling, even bigger this time, and water flooded out onto the vent floor. He turned back to the vent door and saw something that, he was sure, hadn't been there before. On the wall, scrawled in red--- Paint? Blood?--- were the four words: THE JOY OF CREATION.
He wanted to leave, but he had to make sure that Allison wasn't still in the vent. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. There was something in the vent, coming towards him. Were those Allison's footsteps? No, William realized, his heart sinking. Those sounded too big and slow.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. They were getting closer. The footsteps were louder this time.
He whipped around to face the vent door, and screamed. Well, he tried to scream. The sound got caught in his throat. Standing in the front of the entrance to the vent was a man in a purple suit, like a hotel doorman, and a shiny golden badge pinned to the front of his shirt. The words engraved onto the badge were tiny, but they read:
FRITZ SMITH - HEAD GUARD. In his hand he held a gleaming bread knife.
PART THREE
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The last thing William remembered before he blacked out was the purple man—Fritz—lunge at him with the bread knife.
Time seemed to slow down. He saw the glint of the knife blade reflected in the eyes of the purple man— a glint that could only belong to the eyes of a psycho. He didn't know how he did it, but he managed to jump to the side. He felt the edge of the knife graze his elbow. Hot pain shot up his arm as he tried to hold back tears.
Everything was a blur now. The purple suit, the shiny name badge, that horrifying smile on his face. The blood dripping from his elbow onto the floor, the screams coming from the vents, the gleam of the steel knife all swirled together in a painful, confusing blend of colors.
"WILLIAM!" A voice yelled from across the room. William was suddenly jolted back to his senses. He whipped around, still holding his bloody elbow, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Allison.
She was in the corner of the room, her hands tied behind her back. Her mouth had evidently been in a gag, but she had managed to get the white cloth to fall off so it hung just under her chin. Her blonde hair was tangled and wet. Tears streamed down her face in two glimmering lines.
He started running toward her, but his foot slipped and he was sent sprawling onto the floor. CRACK. He winced and glanced at his foot, which was bent at an unnatural angle and hurt even more than his elbow.
Finally, it all became too much. Getting left behind by the others, the dark of the vents, the cold water that was still soaking his shirt. The blood from his elbow staining his shirt, the immense pain in his ankle that made it impossible to move, seeing Allison tied up and helpless. He felt like a dam had been broken; there was too much pressure. William curled up in the fetal position, clutching his throbbing ankle. He couldn't hold it all in anymore. He began to cry.
Through blurry vision he saw the purple man loom over him. He saw the flash of the knife, felt the sharp pain in his throat, and then...
Nothing.
His vision went completely black. He could feel his consciousness slipping away. Then, as slowly as it had gone, it came back. He could see nothing but pitch black, but the strange thing was that he couldn't feel anything either. He felt weightless, but he wasn't floating. Then why couldn't he feel the floor underneath him?
Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was still in the back room, but it was empty. He recognized the table at the back wall, the large wardrobe, and of course the vent, but there was nothing actually in the room. The table had nothing on it, the wardrobe was completely empty, and there was nothing at all on the floor. It all felt strange, unnatural even, to be in a room so clean. He walked over to the door—although it felt more like gliding— and looked into the mirror mounted on the wall. What he saw shocked him: There was nothing there. He had no reflection.
William looked down at his body and nearly screamed. He didn't have a body, not anymore. Instead, he saw a murky white outline of himself, so dull and blurry he had to squint to see it properly. Quickly, he stole another glance into the mirror, preparing himself for the worst. Looking closer, he saw his face— only it wasn't his face.
It was, like his body, a blurry grey shape barely visible unless you looked carefully. There was no color anywhere, except for his eyes, which were their normal
brown color. Two vertical lines ran down his face from under his eyes, like tear tracks — Just like, he realized with a jolt, the Marionette.
William turned around and saw three more ghostly figures standing—floating—against the wall by the wardrobe. He recognized them instantly, even though he could make out no more than their shape. But something was wrong— There were only three. Bobby Gino was missing.
William drifted toward the three ghastly shapes. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He tried again. Nothing.
"You cannot speak," said a voice behind him. It was a strange voice. It sounded staticky and buzzing, but under that layer of choppiness the voice was ancient sounding and radiated an aura of power.
"You cannot speak. How can you voice your thoughts without vocal cords? You do not have a body anymore, William Anderson. You are a spirit, a soul, a mere shadow of your living self. Vital to my plans."
How does he know my name? William wondered. He didn't dare turn around to see who the voice belonged to. He felt as if he had reached maximum capacity for sheer terror.
The Marionette laughed, a bone-chilling sound that echoed off the walls. "I know more about you than you think, William. But that is not important now. We must deal with the matter at hand. Turn around, my little spirit."
William stayed where he was, frozen with fear.
"I said, TURN AROUND." there was a slight note of impatience in the voice and William thought he'd better do what was asked. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face...
The Marionette. It was definitely him. There was that pale white face, that thin, pitch dark body. There were the two vertical lines on his face just under his blank slitted eyes, the expressionless grin on his face, those thin strings hanging off of his skinny limbs.
What do you want with me and my friends? William asked, in his mind.
"I was just getting to that," the Marionette said, his voice clicking and buzzing. "You and your little friends are essential in helping me take my vengeance. Soon I shall combine ancient with modern, mechanics and supernatural magic, and form my own army. Twenty years... Twenty excruciatingly long years. Now, I will finally reap my rewards... The sweet, sweet taste of revenge..." With each word, his voice grew more eager — almost hungry — with anticipation.
I'm sorry, sir, William thought. But I'm not sure I understand what you mean.
"Bah! Any fool could understand my point. Over the years, I have spent countless hours mastering the elaborate art of sorcery. Now, I will use that sorcery and transfer the souls of children from their bodies —"
He pointed to the floor behind him, and William gasped. There, sprawled on the ground, was himself... Only, he was dead.
The Marionette snapped his floppy fingers and the body disappeared. In its place stood four animatronics — THE four animatronics he had known nearly all his #life.
"—To these animatronics!" The Marionette laughed again, finishing his sentence with a flourish. "With mechanism and magic combined, I will form an unstoppable army to take my beautiful revenge. My plan is flawless."
You... You can't do that, Mr. Marionette! a tiny voice squeaked in William's mind. Allison's voice, he realized.
Yeah, you can't. Please... Just let us go, another voice joined, and this time it sounded like Alex.
We'll do anything you want us to do. Please free us. Our parents will be worried. How would you feel if you were about to be used in a supernatural army?
"ENOUGH!" The Marionette bellowed. "I will NOT be taught manners by a bunch of schoolchildren! You are all in my plan, and will all serve ME!" The Marionette's words were followed by laughing — maniacal, crazy laughing, the last thing that William heard before his consciousness betrayed him and everything went black.
EPILOGUE
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