Well, I just got the new chapter of my FNAFic, Everything Is All Right, Part Four: Children of Mammon uploaded and my sister, Cris, has invited me out for celebratory pancakes, so I’ma make this quick, ya’ll. Pancakes is awesome. So if you’re reading along, head on over to fanfiction.net or archiveofourown.org, and if not, please enjoy this snippet and maybe you will change your mind!
Ana dreamed again of the maze in the ceiling, but it was smaller, close around her and cluttered with animatronic limbs wrapped in moldy clothes and stuffed with rats and wires. The air she fought to breathe was hot and thick, a poison brume. She crawled on her belly, her head bumping the top of the maze with each frantic lunge forward, but gained little ground. The maze had her and it meant to keep her. Her boots found no traction on metal walls made slick with blood. She struggled onward, as all trapped things struggle, without hope of escape. She was not alone up here. The sounds that followed her in the darkness were at times the ticking of a clock and at other times the whine and wheeze of old servos and gears.
Ana looked back and even though the maze was lightless, she could see it, the thing her aunt had become, the thing she had perhaps always been. That white face, laughing and weeping together, black sockets for eyes, spiders spilling from the trapdoor of its gaping mouth—the Puppet. Long bone-white arms blistered with iridescent scales, straggles of blonde hair and dusty cobwebs hanging before her like a bridal veil—the Mermaid. Then it spoke, although the mouth didn’t move, and in spite of the low scratch of static that came with it, the voice was familiar—Aunt Easter.
“Just a little further, Honeybunny,” this nightmare amalgamation crooned. “You’re almost there.”
Ana scrambled away, slapping and clawing at the bloody walls of the maze in a futile search for a handhold, but the nearest corner wall that might offer some leverage was just out of reach, as it had been since the start of this dream.
“We missed you,” Aunt Easter said and her voice was just the same—light and laughing, young and pretty—while the hand that reached out to clutch at Ana’s ankle was white as bone, torn open to expose her inner framework and stained padding. “We’ve all been waiting for you.”
Ana kicked away and fled, inch by excruciating inch, gasping for breath and choking on the little she found.
“We had a deal,” Aunt Easter called, coaxing, pleading. “We can be a family now!”
“No!” Ana rasped, kicking blindly as she pulled herself away. She hit something. She felt the impact, heard the cry. She kicked again and again and again, until the sound of her aunt’s moans silenced and all she could hear was the wet crunch of meat and bone, and still she kicked, rasping, “No! No! No!”
“That’s my girl,” a purple voice whispered, breathing out of every part of the maze at once.
Ana looked up and suddenly the maze was gone, but she was just as trapped lying on Aunt Easter’s bed in the purple room with Erik Metzger’s arms around her. His glasses caught the sun streaming through the window, filling his eyes with burning light. His shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his bare chest, smooth as sculpted plastic. She could feel his inhuman heat, hear the tick of gears and wheeze of fans. He smiled; there was a second set of metal teeth behind his perfect white ones. “My, my,” he said, pulling her closer. “How you’ve grown.”