Serial Saturday Update

I hope everyone out there had a Joyous Yule, a Happy Hanukkah, a Merry Christmas, a Happy Kwanza, or, you know, just a nice day. But before we say goodbye to 2016 and hello to Year 1 of the Trumpalendar, it’s time to upload a new chapter of my Five Nights at Freddy’s fanfiction, Everything Is All Right, Part Two: Mike Schmidt and the Long Night, available now at and  I still have about three chapters left to write on part three, and yes, I am getting nervous, but it is what it is. If there’s a bit of a break between Part Three and Four (and Five), oh well, right? My readers are all patient, understanding people and the FNAF fandom is renowned for…um…hmmm. Well, moving on. How about an excerpt from Chapter Fourteen?

Everything Is Alright Part 2



Ana hadn’t realized she’d been working for Shelly long enough to acclimate to the work-schedule until she woke, jobless, at a quarter to five for no reason. One of the animatronics was in the room with her, she knew even without lifting the curtain to look. She could hear servos humming steadily, rhythmically. Bonnie, playing his stringless guitar.

She listened as she drowsed, contemplating sleep at the same low emotional temperature as she reflected on the previous day’s events. Ultimately, however, she decided if she was going to walk to town later and pick up her truck, she’d better get some work done at Freddy’s first.

When she switched on her camp lantern, the small sounds elsewhere in the room stopped at once. He must have known she was there, but he didn’t greet her in any way. Was he mad at her? She guessed she had kind of walked out on him after the shower and maybe he didn’t deserve that, but he’d been touching her scars. It was no accident, either. He’d claimed before he couldn’t feel much—how could he, with plastic hands?—but he’d been touching her scars. Not just like he knew they were there and he knew he was touching them, but also wanted her to feel him touching them and know that he understood…and of everything that had happened all that day, his understanding was the worst.

Now she had to go out there and face him and it was going to be awkward, the way it was always awkward with everyone who’d ever seen them, worse even than it had been with Rider when he found out, and he’d even guessed who put them there.

‘You are over-thinking this,’ Ana told herself as she shimmied into a pair of jeans, and it was true. Bonnie’s programming was complicated beyond Ana’s limited capacity to understand, but it was, after all, just a computer program. He had seen her scars, sure. He’d had to guess how to react to them, and he’d made that guess based in large part on her interactions with him, which at that moment had included her naked and kissing on him. Taking that into account, could she really even say he’d made the wrong guess?

He still hadn’t said anything, which was a little unsettling, but he probably had to see her to kick into guest-mode, she decided. To test her theory, she lifted the curtain and peeked out at him.

His eyes snapped on at once, showing her it was indeed Bonnie. He had been sitting on the edge of the stage with his guitar still on his lap even though he wasn’t playing it anymore. Seeing her, he put it aside and got up, limping toward her. “HI THERE! Hey. Are you-you-you—READY TO ROCK?”

“Yeah, sure. A little stiff. You’d think I’d be in shape, doing what I do for a living, but walking apparently uses different muscles. Hang on. I need to cover my shame before Freddy sees me.” Ducking back under the table, Ana grabbed a tee off the laundry-wall. By pure luck, the first one she touched was clean, both in literal terms and in the sentiment expressed. What were the odds? She put it on and crawled out, taking Bonnie’s hand when he offered it to gain her feet. “Where is everyone?”

“Chica’s in b-b-back somewhere, probably the arcade. I haven’t seen F-Foxy all night, so I guess he’s in the C-C-Cove.”

“And Freddy?”

Bonnie’s ears swiveled. He glanced at the kitchen. “Freddy’s always around-d-d.”


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