'Today they dismantled Chica.
I told her to be strong, that it wouldn't hurt, and that she would be fine-
But I knew she could tell I was lying.
They had locked her up in the service room for hours, just like when they dismantled me.
For the first few hours, I was hopeful. Maybe they had actually went through with the retrofitting! Even though I was beyond salvaging, it would be amazing if at least one of us could still be in the show. She would be new, and able to perform for the rest of us. We could live through her!
Unfortunately, this was not the case. Several more hours of the sound of drills and other power tools told us that much.
Foxy was unhinged the entire time. Literally, and figuratively. They had taken some screws out of his jaw and it left his mouth hanging like a dead weight from his head... It made him look more neurotic than normal.
Freddy was grim. His decommissioning session was the shortest of us all, and he was woeful for that. He assured me many times after my face and arm were removed that he would have taken the burden of all of our collective pain onto himself, if he could.
I believe him. You are a great friend and leader, Freddy.'
------------------------------------------
'Late that evening, the repair (or should I say, 'disrepair') men left, as did the construction workers who were remodeling the place. It didn't take long for all of us to make our way to the service room to find Chica.
At first, it was dark, and only the glint of spare animatronic heads could be seen. If I had a heart, it would have been pounding- were one of the head's Chica's?
Then, a figure collapsed into my frame. It was a jumbled mess, full of wires and loose joints. Either Freddy or Foxy jumped behind me in surprise, because they let out a raspy gasp. That's when I knew I was holding Chica. What was left of her former self anyways. She no longer had hands. Many holes where cut into her old suit, exposing endoskeleton and knobby, robotic joints. But the worse of all was her face- sawed in half at the jaw and severed, only held together by wires. Her teeth were all exposed, both sets, and her eyes wide and sunken. Fear and agony could be seen in them is you were able to look long enough. She was truly terrifying.
"Oh, Chica...." Freddy said quietly.
She could only heave a struggling breath in response.'
I told her to be strong, that it wouldn't hurt, and that she would be fine-
But I knew she could tell I was lying.
They had locked her up in the service room for hours, just like when they dismantled me.
For the first few hours, I was hopeful. Maybe they had actually went through with the retrofitting! Even though I was beyond salvaging, it would be amazing if at least one of us could still be in the show. She would be new, and able to perform for the rest of us. We could live through her!
Unfortunately, this was not the case. Several more hours of the sound of drills and other power tools told us that much.
Foxy was unhinged the entire time. Literally, and figuratively. They had taken some screws out of his jaw and it left his mouth hanging like a dead weight from his head... It made him look more neurotic than normal.
Freddy was grim. His decommissioning session was the shortest of us all, and he was woeful for that. He assured me many times after my face and arm were removed that he would have taken the burden of all of our collective pain onto himself, if he could.
I believe him. You are a great friend and leader, Freddy.'
------------------------------------------
'Late that evening, the repair (or should I say, 'disrepair') men left, as did the construction workers who were remodeling the place. It didn't take long for all of us to make our way to the service room to find Chica.
At first, it was dark, and only the glint of spare animatronic heads could be seen. If I had a heart, it would have been pounding- were one of the head's Chica's?
Then, a figure collapsed into my frame. It was a jumbled mess, full of wires and loose joints. Either Freddy or Foxy jumped behind me in surprise, because they let out a raspy gasp. That's when I knew I was holding Chica. What was left of her former self anyways. She no longer had hands. Many holes where cut into her old suit, exposing endoskeleton and knobby, robotic joints. But the worse of all was her face- sawed in half at the jaw and severed, only held together by wires. Her teeth were all exposed, both sets, and her eyes wide and sunken. Fear and agony could be seen in them is you were able to look long enough. She was truly terrifying.
"Oh, Chica...." Freddy said quietly.
She could only heave a struggling breath in response.'
