Month: October 2016

Adapting To Darkness

Posted on by Nolan Slover (Note Worthy)

The vent shook as Chica slammed into it.  I really made her mad.  Scampering around with this… hell, I’m no doctor, but it really hurts… arm of mine in this vent isn’t precisely quiet, or subtle.

God, it really stinks in here.  They haven’t cleaned in here in a while.  I should write the BBB about them and possibly the CDC.  Who the hell knows what’s up in here.

Okay, assess the situation: I’ve got no phone, no flashlight, and no real idea where I’m going.  I can barely see more than 3 feet in front of me.

What is the hardest to admit is that Chica is right: I won’t be able to hide forever.  I’ll need to get some water, use the bathroom, and, I dunno, get the hell out of this damn place?

Just… gotta move, crawl if I need to.  This duct needs to have some sort of exhaust port.

“Freddy! Bonnie!  Get up.  It’s hunting time!”

Well, fuck.

“What’s going on, Chica?”

“We’ve got a tourist.  And he’s a smart-ass.”

“Don’t pull my paw, Chica… I was in the middle of a delightful nap.”

She really has a thing for punching walls.  Funny that I think if she put her skills to good use, she could get a job working for a construction company doing demolition.

“You’re serious.”

“No, Freddy, I’m just joking around with you.  What do you think?”

“That’s enough, Chica.  What’s going on, you’re not acting normally–even for when the Night Guard is milling about.”

“I want to mount his head on a wall, or in a suit.  Maybe we could wake up Mister Stinky and send him out on the prowl.”

“Dammit, Chica… where did you see him last?”

“The fucker climbed into a vent.  He’s probably still hiding in there!”

Not sure which one it was, but I heard a loud gasp.

“Then, I guess… it’s time to walk around and see if we can find him.  But, and I mean this, Chica: we do not involve Springtrap!”

“Bonnie, I want to hurt him.  A LOT.”

How did my life get to this point?  Seriously!  I’m in an air vent in a spooky pizzeria with some unusual lore, now being chased by these things.  And they want to kill me.

What kind of job pays you enough to put up with this place and stay sane?  If this place doesn’t drop at least $18 an hour,  you couldn’t get me to work here in a million years.

“Oh.  Hello.  What are you doing here?”

Please don’t be the rabbit please don’t be the rabbit please don’t be the rabbit

No.  Freaking.  Way.

Okay… this just went from creepy to Level 8 “What-The-Fuck.”

Why is Fluttershy in the air duct?

Running, Just Running

Posted on by Nolan Slover (Note Worthy)

Chica was legitimately the scariest thing I’ve seen since getting in here.  Mangle?  She was sorta threatening, but more teasing.

My arm’s hurt, likely broken.  I don’t need it to run, and that’s what I’m doing now.

Curse my lack of knowledge of this place!  I wish I had just had more than one night of experience in here…

“Get back here, Whimper! I’m going to snap every bone in your body and then stuff you inside a suit!”

No.  Not going to happen.  I need to hide, hide somewhere.  Check the doors… can’t read it, going to just have to open this one up… bingo!

I shuffle around the corner and press myself against the wall, and do the best I can to completely calm down my breathing.

There’s the sound of a wall being smashed in, and then an unearthly sound of a malfunctioning animatronic chicken screeching in frustration.

“Rotten stinking Night Guard wannabes… coming in here and raising all this ruckus.  It’s bad enough that I’ve sworn that I’m going to keep that psycho rabbit in the back stowed away until tomorrow…”

She’s… right outside… the door.

“You can come out already.  We’re going to find you eventually.  And you aren’t going to like it when we do…”

I hold my breath, trying not to make a sound.

“I know this place like the back of my wing.  There’s only so many places to hide in here.  After so long, they’re going to run out.”

I can hear her take a step, moving away from me.  I can’t imagine what her hearing is like, so much as a whimper or an exhale and she’ll find me.

“I wasn’t made to be fooled, Whimper.  Now do yourself a favor and come out already.”

Dammit, my name isn’t Whimper.

“Whimper… what an annoying name.  Maybe Mangle pegged you right to be a whimpering, annoying flesh-lump that needs a spine adjustment–permanently.”

It’s getting hard to hold my breath… she’s still really close.  I then hear the sound of plaster and cracking from a nearby wall… but it’s still far enough away.  Too late to take a breath, but… I have to.

*inhale*

“What… was that…?”

*exhale*

“I… heard… something.”

Oh, crap.

“Sounded like… a Whimper.”

Oh no, no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no…

“Right.  In.  HERE!”

Her arm smashed in through the wall to my right.  I jump away from the wall and head to the far end of the room, now scrambling to find a way out… 

There’s a vent.  I kick it open as Chica stumbles into the room, nipping at my heels.  Then I realize the utter stupidity of this plan.  Even if I can dive into this quickly, all she needs to do is reach in and pull me back by my ankles… unless…

“Party time is OVER!”

I fling the vent cover right at her.  It hits her with a loud metallic *CLANG* and fazes her for a second.  She lets out an ear-piercing screech as I clamber and crawl through the vent, getting away from her as fast as I can.

“YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER, WHIMPER! WHEN I FIND YOU, YOU ARE DEAD!”

I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve… and maybe, just maybe, I can steal your home field advantage.

Day 3: Talks With A Chicken

Posted on by Nolan Slover (Note Worthy)

Her laugh was brief as Mangle waddled off somewhere.

I looked up.  And up.  I no longer felt very tall.

A feather on the side of her right wing went “ker-sproing”.  I fought the urge to chuckle.

“So, what horrifying thing did you do to earn the nickname “Whimper” from Mangle?”

Told her my real name.

“I think it has more to do with the fact that you should be a Night Guard and you’re just some random guy that happened to stumble into here.  So…”

Okay, looking like this is going really south really quick.  The ceiling didn’t seem that far away before.

“Maybe I should twist you into a pretzel and have you as a snack.”

How do I reason with this?  Do I reason with this thing?

“Bonnie’ll love you.”

Wait, please…

“What, are you going to start begging now?”

I don’t want to die, please…

“Wrong place for that, Whimper!”

Her mouth opened.  All… those… teeth.  And those gears…

“I should just finish you off right now!”

STOP!  Let’s… talk, okay?

“All right.  I’ll start!”

She shoved… and the wall gave way.

“You should leave and not come back.  Unless you have a death wish!” 

My friend told me to come here.

“Well, they’re probably dead too!  And now you should be shown why you don’t give Chica lip!”

I heard my left arm crack.  I landed on the ground with a thump.  Okay, talking to this one isn’t working; time to run.

“Come back here, Whimper!”

Might have had a lot to do with the pizza.

Day 2: The “Grand Tour”

Posted on by Nolan Slover (Note Worthy)

Mangle took my phone.

She then discovered YouTube.  She hasn’t made a peep since.  God, what the hell is this going to do to my data plan?

I tried to get it back from her once.

Her teeth are damn sharp.  Had to wrap a sock around my hand where she bit clean through it.

Used a moment of her laughing at a particularly cute cat video to grab a slice of pizza from a rusted pie plate.  Probably shouldn’t even be eating this–here goes…

…

You know, that’s not bad for a pepperoni pie.  Spice is just right, the crust has a nice crunch to it, I love the blend of cheeses, and it’s still pretty hot…

“What did I say about the pizza, Whimper?”

Buzz off, you, I’m eating.

“I said no pizza.”

And I said you’re not getting my phone, we see how that turned out, don’t we?

“Put it down.”

Or what?

Her tone is practically dumbfounded.  “You really need to ask?”

I take another bite right in front of her, keeping keenly out of reach of her mouth.

“God! Look, we can be civilized about this.”

I put down the pizza when I get my phone back.  This seems to give her pause.

“Fine, eat your damned slice.  Besides, it’s your second night here.  Time to show you around.”

Wait. Second night?  But… I haven’t even been to sleep yet, and…

“Oh, yeah, forgot to mention; time is passing a little differently in here than it would outside.  OOooh, what’s this… Facebook?”

Mangle, no.  Put it down, seriously don’t look there…

“Says here you’re still single… have you even had a girlfriend?”

Stop it!  I… I work a lot, I’m busy with projects and stuff!

“You’re really into this whole "Pony” thing, aren’t you?“

Well… yeah.  Makes me laugh, cry, teaches life lessons…

"It’s meant for little girls, Whimper.  You certainly don’t make the cut.”

Says the animatronic fox having a conversation with someone other than a child she was built to entertain.

Damn, she can hit hard.  And that’s blood.  Slashed my face open a little bit.

“Only I am allowed to make sarcastic, witty responses, you ancient relic.”

Ouch. Low blow.  So, now what, Mangle, what about this “grand tour” you want to take me on?

“Yes, the tour!  You get to meet the rest of the group.  Maybe, if you don’t irritate me too much, we’ll even say hello to my dear friend Springtrap.  You know about him, don’t you?”

Only what… my friend told me about.  That he’s… stinky, and… evil, and… well, you know.

“True.  Well, let’s go say hello to Chica.  I think she’ll be a little nicer.”

The walk through the hallways is… needless to say, unnerving.  Yeah, there’s blood stains on the floor… my hand stings from the sock and the occasional breeze.

“Whimper, this is Chica.  Chica, say hello to Whimper.”

Darn, this is good pizza…

“So you’re the new one… but, where’s your hat?”

“He didn’t come here for the job.  He’s a tourist.”

“A… tourist.”

Chica looks at me and…

“A tourist.”

Okay, this has gone from bad to worse.

She then laughs.  It’s the laugh of pure confusion mixed with domination, control.

This is some really good pizza.