Good news, everyone! (Bonus ducks if you read that in Prof. Farnsworth’s voice.) Two of the kittens have gone to their forever homes, leaving us with just two more to unload on an unsuspecting suck…er…two more loving snuggly kittens in need of adoption. You know, I’m calling them ‘kittens’ but they are three months old now, creeping up on four. They have definitely lost their kitteny fluffball phase and grown into their lanky teenage phase, although they still seem to think they’re kittens. I’m going to try and get some pics because they really are quite gorgeous. I’ve been thinking of them as grey tabbies, but I guess they outgrew their kitten colors too, because Danny Sexkitten has more of a Bengal look, with big fat swirly stripes, and scrappy Jacky Septickitten is more of a tortiseshell. And soft, both of them. That fluffy medium-hair undercoat of theirs has made them just so soft.
Anyway, this is a blog about books, so forget the kittens…unless you would like a kitten, in which case, come get your kitten…but for the rest of you, the newest chapter of my FNAFiction, Everything is All Right, Part Two: Mike Schmidt and the Long Night, is ready for reading on fanfiction.net and also over at archiveofourown.org, so if you’re reading along, be sure to check it out. This week, Ana explores the Toybox, which was the site we all saw in the FNAF2 game.
Ana leaned over the counter to squint at the menu. It seemed the new, improved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria offered exactly four kinds of pizza—four cheese, pepperoni, meat lovers, and supreme. Chocolate or vanilla cupcakes baked fresh daily while supplies last. Birthday cakes must be ordered in advance. No outside food or drink. No special orders. No substitutions. Also no checks, although there was supposedly an ATM in the arcade.
Ana swung her flashlight around to see if it was still there, and froze as she discovered what squatted between the In and the Out halls: the puppet’s prize corner. Most of the shelves were empty, scavenged by brave looters over the years, but a few remained. Cheap plastic top hats. Child-sized bibs with Chica’s face on them, her happy smile made crazed and ghoulish by grime and time. Paper pirate hats and eyepatches in either pink or black. Rotted-cloth bunny ears in fake-Bonnie blue. And below them all, wrapped in a dull red ribbon, the puppet’s box.
Ana moved past Mike, circling the prize counter as much as she could, seeking and ultimately not finding any way for a person to get in, apart from climbing over the counter. So she did.
Mike didn’t try to stop her, didn’t say anything at all. He watched, his light fixed on her while hers stayed fixed on that giant gift-box, now greyed and grimed. The lid was closed and at one point, it seemed to have been nailed shut all the way around the top, but the nails had been pulled and there was a splintered place where a lockplate had been chipped out. When she lifted the lid and peered over the edge of the box’s high side, she could see the puppet’s spring-loaded seat, the spring rusted into tight coils, but no marionette.
“Feel better?” Mike asked.
She did, a little. No, tell the truth and shame the Devil, a lot.
He didn’t press her for an answer, just waited for her to climb back over the counter before he turned his flashlight out over the dining area.
It was immediately apparent they were not the first ever to invade Fazbear’s after its doors closed for the last time. Vandals had been busy here over the years, but they hadn’t done near as much damage as Ana would have expected. Oh, the roof had collapsed. The entire middle of the dining area was a forest of rotten support beams and wires, with real trees sprouted up among them where stray seeds had taken root, some of them as thick as her wrist. Graffiti covered the peeling walls and moss covered the graffiti. Generations of plant growth had sprouted, seeded and died across the floor, leaving behind a desolate landscape of brown stalks and thorns tangled up with chipped tiles.
But for all that, Ana’s eyes could still see it the way it was back then. She could see three rows of lunchroom tables lined with party hats in the center of this huge room, see dozens of excited faces turned toward the show stage as the curtain went up and the lights came on and there was Freddy and the Fazbear Band.
Ana managed to take her eyes from the stage, but couldn’t seem to stop looking around. So much was similar to ‘her’ Fazbear’s, in color and style if not in actual layout, that she kept trying to bring the two into alignment, kept expecting to hear those heavy footfalls and grinding gears, maybe see Freddy’s eyes light up in the dark hall and hear the Toreador March start playing.