A Night with Freddy and his Friends

By Aeiu

‘A-Team’ Cross-over with “Five Nights at Freddy’s’

Part One

“I’m going to kick his ass,” Face thought as he desperately tried to pick the lock on the stubborn door. “I’m going to pull that damn cigar out of his smug mouth, bend him over the nearest table and kick him as hard as I can.”

It wasn’t fair, he decided. Half of Hannibal’s plans consisted of everybody running through the front door and the other half consisted of sending him, on his lonesome, into the lion’s den.

Face gritted his teeth as he thought back to Hannibal’s last words

“Don’t worry so much, kid, he said. No one knows us around here. In and out, he said. It’ll be a piece of cake, he said.”

“Does this look like a piece of cake,” Face muttered to himself. He hadn’t been in Cooper’s headquarters more than five minutes when Cooper recognized him and he was crashing through a window being chased by one big goon and two smaller goonlings; all intent on killing him.

Of course, Hannibal and the others didn’t know where he was at. They had been sitting nice and snug in the van monitoring the radio. By now, they must be aware that another one of Hannibal’s plans had gone south but by the time they got here, the only thing left to do would be pick up the pieces.

And, of course, he would pick the only building in the alley that had the only door which had the only stupid lock that he seemed to be unable to pick.

Face cursed to himself as he continued to try to get the tumblers to cooperate. He didn’t know if he could live with the shame of dying because he couldn’t open a lock.

As he tried to concentrate, a small trickle of blood, caused by an errant shard of glass, dribbled into his eye. Absentmindedly, he brushed it away and wiped it on the door in front of him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the glorious click and the door swung open.

Immediately a strong stench of stale food, decay and something which brought back memories of Chao’s camp assailed his nose. He hesitated, as every instinct told him not to go into the bleak darkness, but the sound of a bullet whizzing over his shoulder urged him forward.

It didn’t matter if the Bowels of Hell lay before him; it was still better than the certain death at the hands of Cooper’s goons.

Face rushed in. His sniper vision quickly acclimatizing to the unlit room, he recognized it was some sort of restaurant. To be specific, a pizzeria; not one for fine dining and good wine but a place where you took the kids where they could run wild, eat mediocre food, and return with a handful of very expensive cheap junk. The type of place he wouldn’t be caught dead in.

Face winced at his own thoughts. If Hannibal were here, he’d probably chuckle at the ridiculousness of the words. Of course if Hannibal were here, he’d have a boot buried in his ass because this was all his fault.

Face dove behind the far counter and carefully lifted his head, praying that the goons would have as hard a time as he did trying to open the door.

“The door which hadn’t shut,” he realized as he gaped at the ray of light streaming in through the cracked door. He couldn’t believe it. He had slammed it as hard as he could. How could it not have shut and locked?

He watched as the light was blocked as the goon known as Big Tony burst through closely followed by the lesser goons; Little Rico and Bruno, the Bone Crusher.

“I’m dead,” Face thought. His doom accented by the echo of the slam and the room falling into near darkness.

“Why’d you shut the damn door?” Bruno complained. “Now we can’t see a god damn thing!”

“I didn’t. It shut on its own. ‘Sides that fink can’t have got far.”

‘Spread out,” Big Tony ordered. “If you see him, shoot ‘em.”

“Hell,” Bruno said as he lifted his weapon. “There he is, right over there. This is going to be easy.”

Face took some comfort that Bruno was pointing his gun in the wrong direction but he didn’t think his luck would last long. He didn’t flinch as two shots rang through the air. Maybe he could sneak away while the goons were discovering that their bullets had found the wrong target.

“Think he’s dead?” Bruno asked as he walked toward the sheet covered mass which had fallen to the floor. “He didn’t make no sound.”

“You didn’t shoot him. I think you shot something else,” Rico said.

“Did so,” Bruno responded. “Smart guy thinks he can outthink Mr. Cooper then he runs in here and thinks he can get away from us by hiding under a sheet. I should shoot him again.”

Bruno’s scowl deepened as he pulled off the sheet and Rico’s laugh echoed through the room.

“You shot a bear, B.B.” Rico shouted. “You gonna skin it and put its head in your room.”

Face lifted his eyes to look as he carefully continued backing out of the room. Bruno had wasted his bullets on one of those awful animatronics that you’d expect to find in a place like this. Hopefully the teasing over the shooting of the pathetic toy would give him the diversion he needed to find a safer hiding place.

“God damn bear!” Bruno cursed as he kicked the animal in the head.

“Just a few more seconds,” Face prayed as he inched closer and closer to getting away from the trio.

Then he heard it. They all heard it. A deep low growling sound that seemed to reverberate through the entire room. They all froze as their eyes darted around trying to find the source of the sound. Big

Tony’s eyes locked onto Face as a feral grin broke out on the ugly man’s lips and he aimed his weapon toward Face’s heart.

“Holy shit!” Rico yelled his voice dripping in terror as the bear sat up and slowly turned his head toward the trio.

“I’ve got the best team in the world,” Face thought as he realized that he had been rescued.

He took back every frustrated nasty thought that he had ever had about the colonel. The man was a tactical genius with near psychic abilities who habitually pulled off the impossible. Not only had Hannibal realized that his plan had gone wrong, but he had figured out which abandoned building to go to and had not only gotten there first but, somehow, figured out how to control the giant toys in this place.

Face took a good look at the weapon of his salvation. It didn’t look like a real bear as much as it looked like a teddy bear; albeit a giant, slightly maniacal teddy bear. The thing stood just over five feet if you included its itty bitty top hat. The round little black buttons running down its chest and the overly pink cheeks made it look cartoonish but there was something about its large mouth and bright blue eyes with black rims which made him uneasy.

It didn’t surprise him that he had never heard of this place. If this was its style of robots, they probably generated more nightmares than return customers. The thing looked almost alive, the way its eyes seemed to actually focus on Bruno and…

“Kid,” a familiar voice echoed in his ear, “where are you?”

“Hannibal?” Face watched as the creature muzzle crinkled as it gave the impression of sniffing the air.

“Oh, thank god,” said the voice. “Are you okay? Where are you at?”

“It’s not you, is it?” Face sked as the creature stood up, oblivious to the bullets being fired at it.

“What are you talking about? Where are you?”

Big Tony jumped on the thing and it threw him off like an annoying leaf. At the moment, it only had eyes, now blood red eyes, for Bruno who had his back against the wall.

Rico was nowhere to be seen. It looked like the weasely little man had disappeared as soon as he saw that the gangs’ guns were useless.

“In the pizzeria,” Face said finally answering the colonel. “And you’re not you in here and it’s not BA making the bear work, is it?”

“What the hell are you talking about? Where are you?”

“No!” screamed Face as the bear’s grin got wider. Its clawed arm shot out, lifting the struggling Bruno off of the ground and an eerie slow laugh came from the creature.

Face wasn’t sure what it was going to do but he was sure that before it was over, Bruno, and probably all of them, would be dead.

Part II

Face turned and ran, ignoring the screams behind him and the voice of his colonel begging for some, any, information.

A lone light shone ahead of him, one located in a room, an office with a door and, hopefully a lock. It probably wouldn’t hold but, maybe, it would buy him a little time and, maybe, he’d find a few answers.

Gasping for breath, he slammed the door behind him. He looked for something to block the door but it seemed like everything heavy was already bolted to the floor. Judging by the multiple TV screens, it appeared he was in a security office. The camera might be helpful in keeping track of that thing and, maybe, finding a way out of here.

He hadn’t sat down more than a few seconds when the phone rang.

“Shit,” he thought. All he needed was noise to attract that thing’s attention. He quickly snatched up the phone and put it to his ear.

“Hello?” he asked tentatively. “Who is this?”

‘Hey Richie. Long time, no see,” said the voice of the telephone guy.

“Uhh, this isn’t Richie. Who is this?”

“Oh, you go by so many names; Bancroft, Brenner, Peck, Jones. You seem to use the name Face a lot. How about I call you that?”

There was nothing threatening in the voice but where did he get those name.

“Face is fine.” The lieutenant whispered, afraid that whatever was out there would hear them. “Who is this?”

“I can’t hear you. Speak up,” said the telephone guy.

“Look, I don’t know who you are but I’m trapped in here with some kind of creature. It attacked a man. I need you to…”

“Creature? Oh, you mean Freddy? Is that why you’re whispering? Don’t worry about him. He and the others are as deaf as posts.”

“You know about him?” Face asked shocked. Deciding to trust that the man was speaking the truth, he switched on the phone speaker so the team could hear as well.

“Sure do. That’s why we were so happy to get your application. I’m pleased to welcome you to your first night at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.”

“What are you talking about? What application?”

“The one you left at the door.”

“At the door? I didn’t…” Face looked at his hand where he had brushed away the sweat and blood from his still seeping wound. He remembered wiping some blood on the door. Was this what the man meant about an application?

“I have to say that you’re already showing a lot of initiative. Most of our new hires come here alone and…aren’t available for their employee orientation. But it looks like your friends are going to give you enough time to learn your duties.”

“Look, whoever you are, just tell me how to get out of here.”

“Grab that big white notebook and we’ll go over everything.”

Face grabbed the book and opened it to page one. Happily, Hannibal had opted to be quiet and, was hopefully, listen along.

“First off,” said the disembodied voice, “welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria; the home of Freddy Fazbear and all of his friends; Chica Chicken, Bonnie Bunny and Foxy the Pirate.

Face wet his dried lips as he looked at what should have been an innocuous picture robotic animals; a female chicken waitress nothing distinctive about it except for the sharp beak and the plated cupcake with eyes. Then there was a blue bunny and that killer bear playing the guitar. The last animal was some kind of pirate fox, complete with an eye patch and a hook for a hand. Unlike the others, it had deep gouges and tears throughout its body and something wrong with the jaw. The word ‘Discontinued’ was stamp across its picture.

“Unlike inferior animatronics that you might find in those other places,” continued the telephone guy, “the ones at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria use the revolutionary science of servometers. This means they last longer and are stronger than other models. They have advanced to the point that they’re virtually indestructible. To keep their servomotors in good working order, Freddy and the others have to be mobile for a significant number of hours each day. This wasn’t a problem until…”

Face turned the page and saw the newspaper clipping announcing the opening of the new pizza parlor with a picture of all the robots playing in a mechanical band. There were other clippings from other days; one with the headlines; ‘Tragic Accident’, ‘’Near Death’, and ‘Immediate Closing’.

“We here at Freddy’s refer to it as the biting incident. It’s amazing how much a person can still do after they lose one fourth of their frontal lobe,” the telephone guy chuckled nastily.

Face quickly turned the page unable to look at all of the blood in the pictures.

“It was suggested that Freddy and Freddy’s friends be shut down. When this was found to be unworkable, a compromise was reached. Freddy and the others would no longer be active during the daylight hours, thereby calling for a need for a night watchman, like you, to ensure Freddy and the others stay within the confines of this building. If they got out; it would be…bad.”

“Bad?” Face asked as he turned the page.

“Yes, bad. Due to a small glitch, Freddy and the others have lost their ability to distinguish between some human customers and a fellow animatronic. It seems they think people are animatronic mechanisms which are outside of their costumes. They have shown a propensity to remedy the identified problem by the most direct means.”

Face turned the page and saw a large rudimentary drawing of a large teddy bear holding a stick figure which bore a resemblance to Bruno. He knew there had to be something wrong with his eyes as the figures seemed to move across the page. The man figure struggling ineffectually as the bear walked toward another creature whose chest door was open. The man figure’s neck was bent at an impossible angle as the bear figure jammed the man’s body again and again into a door which was too small to fit him. More and more of the man figure’s limbs snapped and broke until it disappeared inside the creature’s chest. The chest door shut and the now full creature seemed to smile as drops of red pooled at its feet.

They seemed so real. He wondered if he touched the pool, if it would feel wet. His shaking hand reached forward…

Suddenly the image changed into a tall skinny marionette with outstretched arms. The puppet’s face was white except for bright red painted cheeks and purple lines under its eyes which resembled the path of tears. The image got larger and larger until all he could see was its face and its black bottomless eyes.

Face jumped up, dropping the book to the floor.

“Okay kid, listen to me.”

Face gave a smile weak smile as he ignored the telephone guy and turned his attention to Hannibal’s voice speaking in his ear. Hannibal would know what to do. He would have a plan.

“I don’t know what’s going on in there or who’s doing this but we are going to get you out of there. Someone’s just trying to mess with your head. Just find a secure place and wait for us.”

“Yeah,” Face said forcing himself to calm down. There was no plan but there was fear in the colonel’s voice and if Hannibal was scared then he was in real trouble.

He looked down at a small folded newspaper clipping. He realized it must have fallen from the manual when he dropped it. He picked it up, unfolded it and read the fading print.

“Oh God,” he said breathlessly as he sat back in the chair.

“Tem, what is it?” Hannibal asked the panic clear in his voice.

“Nothing,” Face answered pushing the paper back into the manual; as if by not seeing it, he could pretend it never existed.

He pushed all other thoughts and fears out of his head so he could concentrate on the instructions of the telephone guy.

“Over time, Freddy and the others have gotten more advanced. Most of the doors don’t give them the trouble that they used to. You can still use the cameras though; see where they are and where they’re going. The buttons on the desk will open and close the doors. If a door is closed and you’re lucky, they might lose interest and go somewhere else.”

“How long?” Face asked. He didn’t know why he asked when he knew it was hopeless. “How long do I have to be here?”

“Let me look at the old schedule,” said the telephone guy. “You started late but we got you down to work until six.”

“So four more hours?”

“Yep. You get paid twenty dollars a night. Remember that while the management is not responsible for death or dismemberment, either accidental or deliberate; we at Freddy Fazbear are family. Should you be unfindable tomorrow morning, rest assured that after cleaning things up, the management will take care of filing all the needed missing person reports as well as notifying interested parties.”

“This couldn’t be real,” Face thought. He got struck on the head and this is some sort of crazy dream.

“Rest assured, Richie, this is real,” said the telephone guy. “If you switch on camera four, it looks like Mr. Anthony Pagercella has met up with Chica.”

Without him moving a finger, camera four switched on. Face saw that Chica, like Freddy, had managed to fit what had been a living man into the robotic suit. But it appeared that Chica did not have the arm strength of the bear. She had to rely on her beak and teeth to rip and cut the flesh and bones into pieces small enough to fit.

“Well, I can’t be talking to you all night, Face,” said the telephone guy. “I got my own work to do. I’ll be talking you later.”

“Don’t…” Face started but it was too late, the line was dead. He looked back at the screen as Chica looked up; looking as if she could see him, blood dribbling from her mouth, and an odd childlike giggling filling the air.

“Kid,” said the voice in his ear. “Are you still with me?”

“John, did you hear all of that?” Face asked quietly.

“Yeah but I still think…”

Face had to bite his lips to stop from laughing. He was scared that if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“So I’m not crazy?” he asked. “This isn’t happening in my mind.”

“You are struck in a building and someone is playing some sick games but we’re going to find a way in and…”

“No!” Face said standing up. “You can’t!”

It was too horrible to consider. He didn’t understand any of this but he had seen those creatures tear apart two armed men. He couldn’t endanger the others and he didn’t want to think what would happen to Murdock’s mind in a place like this.

“Look, the telephone guy said that I can leave of here in a few hours. You and the guys go back to the hotel, I’ll meet you there.”

“Tem.” There was a note of pleading in the Hannibal’s voice.

‘I think I really need to concentrate on what’s happening here so I’m…I’m going to take out the ear piece. I…I can do this and I’ll meet up with you later.”

“Don’t…”

“John,” Face said steeling himself for what would probably be the last words that he would say to Hannibal. “I want you to know that I was never trying to con you. For me, it was always real. I always…always loved you.”

“Tem, don’t…”

Only static filled the air.

“We lost him,” BA said from behind the radio receiver.

Part III

“Don’t say that!” Hannibal hissed as he turned eyes of fury on the corporal. “We have NOT lost him.”

“Wha..” BA said confused. “No man, I meant the transmission is dead.”

“What’s going on?” Murdock asked. “What happened to Face?”

“Murdock, I want you to get Amy on the line. I want to know everything she can get on Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria and I want it yesterday. BA, grab something heavy and come with me.”

Hannibal’s heart had jumped to his throat when he heard Cooper’s goon call Face out. BA had driven like a maniac but by the time the van pulled up to Cooper’s base, Face had already run into the alley with armed men at his heels.

They followed but, again, were too late. They watched as the door slammed shut after the goons ran into the building. He and Murdock tried to follow but the door refused to budge. He had been trying to plan his next move when BA announced they were getting sounds from Face’s transmitter.

He had listened but was unsure of what to make of the strange ramblings and hair rising noises that he heard. It couldn’t be real. Someone for some reason was messing with his lieutenant, his love, and he was going to find out who and why. He was about to get a weapon to attack the door when he notice the odd look on Murdock’s face.

“Problem, captain?” He tried to keep the anger from his voice but Murdock was just standing there. He hadn’t made a move to contact Amy.

Freddy Fazbear,” Murdock said, his face screwed up as he tried to pull up a memory. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“Where?” Hannibal took a step closer to the captain, anxious to hear anything that might be a clue.

“At the VA. There was a guy there. A nice guy but there were certain things that would set him off. Odd things. Sometimes, he’d go all loco and start screaming that they were coming for him.”

“Who was coming for him?” BA asked as he suppressed a shudder. He prided himself on being the sanest man on the team but ever since Face went into that building, it felt as if someone was standing on his grave.

“Freddy Fazbear.”

“What happened to him?”

“He died.”

“How?” Hannibal asked not sure if he wanted to know anymore.

“Don’t know,” Murdock answered shaking his head. “They never said. The doctors shut everything down and wouldn’t talk about it. I asked Richter but he just shook his head. The nurse who found him in his room, they said she had seen something. They said she was sent to another VA but not as a nurse; as a patient.”

“Call Amy,” Hannibal ordered as he grabbed a fire axe from the back of the van. “I don’t care what she has to do or who she has to wake up. I want answers.”

Fighting the wave of despair that swept through him, Face sat down behind the desk and studied the tools for his survival; a map of the building which showed the placement of eleven cameras including an odd one which seemed to be located in the air duct and a bat shit crazy one, somewhere in the room, that was fixed on him.

It was his features staring back at him on the monitor, his own eyes staring at the poster of crying children on the wall behind him. He turned around to look at the empty wall; blank despite what he could still see on the monitor.

“Don’t think about it,” he warned himself. Like in Nam, distraction could be fatal.

Except for the office, the rest of the restaurant appeared to be dark. Turning on the camera, bathed the viewed area in green iridescent light which accented the sharp shadows in the rooms. But even that small bit of illumination could not hold back the blackness as the camera would switched off or was re-routed back to the office camera without warning.

Face took a deep calming breath and put on the ear phones, replacing the dead silence of the office with the snippets of sounds of labored breathing or scurrying among the shadows. He ran through all of the scenes starting with Camera Four. The chicken creature, Chica, was gone even though the remnants of Antonio remained soaking into the carpet.

If he believed the orientation book, and he desperately needed something to believe in, then there were four of those things running around. Four of those things and…

“Rico,” he remembered. With everything that had been going on, he had forgotten that three goons had followed him into this place.

“Four people, four creatures but five children?” He stared at the image of the nonexistent poster and wondered what it all might mean as he listened for the sound and sight of the one that didn’t belong.

“Well!” Hannibal barked, frustrated as hell and unable to keep it out of his voice. He and BA had been beating on the door with every piece of hardware that they could lay their hands on but it wouldn’t open. They were discussing the possibility of using the van as a battering ram when Murdock said that he had gotten through to Amy.

Murdock was more than aware of the tic in his left hand. He had experienced it before, those times when he was sure he was sane but the world around him had descended into insanity. Most times, he would awaken to discover that it had been him would had fallen into a seemingly real delusion.

He hoped that was true this time. It was better that he be forever mad than any of this to be real.

“What did she say, Murdock?” Hannibal asked in a calmer voice aware how close the captain was to the edge.

“Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria,” Murdock said speaking fast the words that he had memorized, “reopened several years ago with a lot of fanfare about their life-sized animal robots. It was supposed to be one of those cool places that you can play games and win prizes but it closed almost as soon as it opened.”

“What happened?” BA asked. He didn’t like the way that his friend’s eyes were darting all over the alley, like he was expecting something to jump out.

“The original place was small. It only had one animal robot, Freddy Fazbear. It was doing pretty good until a kid got killed after they left the place.”

“Killed? How?” Hannibal asked.

“The police report said a kid left the pizza place after a birthday party. He was crossing the street when a car hit him. The kid died instantly. Witnesses said it looked deliberate like the driver was aiming for him.”

“Did they know who was driving the car?”

“They never found him. The only description they had was a man dressed in purple.”

“But that wasn’t the end of it, was it?”

“No. The place closed down, not because of the accident but because they were building something bigger and adding more robots. It opened then something happened at another birthday party. A kid put his head in one of the robot’s mouth and it snapped shut. Witnesses said the robot attacked. The owners called it a terrible accident.”

“What happened to kid?” Hannibal paled remembering the screams that he had heard over the radio.

“Severe skull and brain injury. There was an announcement that the place was closing down temporarily to check over the equipment but it never reopened.”

“Why not? Did something else happen?”

“Kids disappeared. Five of them.”

“Damn,” BA muttered. “I thought I heard of this place.”

“Corporal?” Hannibal turned his gaze to the man. “Do you know something?”

“Yeah. I heard there was a guy who dressed up like an animal from here. He’d find little kids and get them to follow him then he’d kill them, five of ‘em. He…” BA’s voice went silent as he remembered the story.

“He what, corporal?”

“He hid their bodies inside the animal in the restaurant. But they only found four bodies. The guy never said what happened to the last kid. I heard that after they caught him, he never said anything to anyone again. He ripped out his tongue.”

“What happened to him?”

“Don’t know?” BA shook his head. “After the trial, no one talked about it again.”

“What did Amy say?” Hannibal turned back to Murdock.

“She’s trying to find out. She said they tore this place apart looking for what happened to the last kid but nothing except…” Murdock’s voice petered out aware that s his hand start to shake harder like it had a life of its own.

“Yes,” Hannibal leaned in as Murdock got a shade paler.

“The lead investigator went crazy, real crazy. They said that he broke in here one night and killed himself but…”

BA put a soothing and on the pilot’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“The official report was that he killed himself but Amy said when they found him all of his bones were broken and, somehow, he had snapped his own jaw.”

Hannibal ran an anxious set of fingers through his hair, stopping as the gesture was too reminiscent of the one he wanted most to see.

“What type of explosives do we got?” he asked BA. The sound and destruction would undoubtedly alert the police and the military but right now he didn’t care if it brought General McArthur and Patton down on him as long as they got Face out of there.

“Why don’t you come help me look, man?” BA asked as he gently pulled Murdock’s shoulder.

BA didn’t like this; he didn’t like any of this. He didn’t like the look on Hannibal’s face, he didn’t like the way Murdock seemed intent on chewing through his lower lip, and he didn’t like the way they couldn’t get Face out. He hated this place.

It wasn’t too many months ago, the children center had got a donated box of toys. He remembered pulling out a cute little teddy bear wearing a too small top hat and an odd smile. He remembered handing it over to a little girl who wanted a toy. He remembered her eyes when she saw it and he remembered the way she wouldn’t stop screaming.

Glaring at the building, making plans and throwing them away just as quickly, Hannibal was unaware that the rest of the team had left.

“Hold on, kid,” he prayed. “Just hold on.”

“Why don’t you wait here until we find a way in,” BA told his friend as he guided Murdock into the van. “You can wait for Amy to call back.”

The pilot mutely nodded his head as he climbed into the van. He hated the way they had to take care of him when Face was the one in danger but he was finding it harder and harder to stop his mind from slipping away. But maybe in a world gone mad, you needed to be crazy.

“Billy,” he whispered into the darkness.

His doctors called his invisible companion a coping mechanism; a harmless way that allowed him to deal with stress. BA and others insisted the animal wasn’t real and proved he was crazy. They would have told him that there was nothing sitting on the seat in front of him and this time they would be right. But that was because Billy was hiding under the seat.

Ever since they had turned down this alley, the invisible dog had crawled under the seat, making himself as small as possible and whimpering pitifully. It had frightened the captain. He had seen the dog happy, sad, mad and worried but he had never seen his companion so afraid.

“You know what’s in there, don’t you? I know you’re scared but Face needs us,” Murdock said not trying to stop the tears that ran down his eyes. “He needs us but I don’t know what to do. We can’t get in there and he needs us.”

The sound of the whining increased.

“He’s my best friend. I don’t think I could stand it if something happened and I didn’t do anything. We need him,” Murdock explained, the tears dropping on his lap. “I need him. He understands. I think…I think sometimes, he can see you. He’d never admit it but he can. He…:”

Murdock stopped as he heard the forlorn howl from under the seat. It wasn’t the first time he had heard it. He had heard it at the VA when the demons became too much for Captain Norman, when Nurse Jenny caught that human scum trying to steal pills from the pharmacy and twice this night.

“Face,” he whispered as he stared at the building afraid that they were already too late.

Part IV

Face cursed the faulty camera system. It seemed like every time that he thought he was getting a focus on Rico, it would flicker and he would lose the image. Face could feel the desperation of the man who knew he was the hunted. He was running, hiding and trying to break through the exits which seemed to be made of solid steel.

Face did what he could to help the man; and himself; using the cameras to search out the creatures, closing doors to block them in and opening others so Rico could escape and hopefully survive another few minutes.

“At least I know why there are cameras in the air vents,” Face thought with a shudder as he remembered the shock of seeing the horrid face and sharp teeth of Bonnie Bunny crawling in the vent towards him. A push of the button blocked its progress. It was only shut for a few seconds but when it reopened, the creature was gone.

He suddenly became aware of a voice, a human voice coming from Birthday Room #2. He increased the focus on the camera surprised to see the angry face of Rico looking up at him.

“Who are you?” Rico screamed as he looked up at the camera. He didn’t understand any of this. Bruno had been one of the biggest, meanest men that he had ever known. It hadn’t taken that…that thing more than seconds to break his neck. Guns, fists; nothing seemed to stop it.

His mother hadn’t raised any fools, if Big Tony and Bruno couldn’t stop it then what else was there to do but run. But the door wouldn’t open and the widows wouldn’t break no matter how many shots he fired at them. And that’s when he discovered there was more than one of those things.

So he ran; ran and hid. He tried to find a way out but there were none. It had taken a little bit of time but he realized that he was going to die here. He saw the camera; one of many which seemed to follow his every move.

“Who are you?” he demanded not caring if that bear from hell and those things found him. It was hopeless and he was tired of running.

“Why are you doing this? Do you think this is funny?” He held up his gun and pointed it at the camera.

“No,” Face muttered. “Don’t do it.” Behind the frightened angry man, he saw a shadow that shouldn’t be there; a shadow that was getting bigger as it got closer.

“God damn you, you bastard!” Rico’s finger tightened on the trigger. “I’ll see you in Hell!”

Face wanted to look away but he was mesmerized by the images. The weasley man seemed totally unaware that the shadow had turned into a creature; the bear, Freddy Fazbear, running up quick, his mouth opened, his teeth bearing down.

In the end Face couldn’t watch. He turned away as the man screamed one last time. Another camera, another view, another creature; the bird Chica looking up, making impossible moves, laughing in a high pitched childish giggle and in a blink it was gone.

Face knew where it was headed, where all of them were headed. He wondered how long he had, if there was anything he could do to gain a little more time, if the team would ever know what happened to him. He wondered how bad it would hurt when he died.

His eyes settled on the golden mass in the corner as a plan began to form.

“A desperate man will grasp anything even the point of a sword.” Hannibal remembered his grandmother’s favorite saying. He had never appreciated the meaning of those words as he did now.

The dynamite had done nothing; not a scratch on the door, not a mark on the walls, not one alarm or person to investigate the explosion. He had even broken down and tried calling the authorities only to find the phone lines were dead.

“Not dead,” he thought back to the weird static on the line followed by a strange man’s voice.

“I’m afraid the pizzeria is closed now, sir,” said the telephone guy. “All positions are currently filled but if you or your friends would like to stop by tomorrow, we’re expecting an opening.”

Then silence. Hannibal shuddered. He had no doubt who was working the position tonight; the only comfort he could find was that the telephone guy seemed to indicate that the kid was still alive.

So he had been reduced to this; watching a man who had been declared crazy for a good chunk of his adult life encouraging a reluctant non-existing dog to find the weak spot in a building which seemed to be encased in a force field. The fact that BA, not only, did not have any comments but was following along and offering words of encouragement told him that they had run out of options.

“You sure, boy?” Murdock asked to empty space. “Okay, good boy. You go back to the van. No, I won’t.”

‘Got something, captain?” Hannibal asked moving closer.

“Yeah, Billy says this is the spot but we got to be careful.”

How so, man?” BA came up carrying the fire ax.

“We got to be careful that nothing other than Face gets out and if we go in, we got to be connected to out here.”

“That don’t make no sense,” BA groused.

“Billy said that what’s in there can’t keep us as long as we got something like a rope or chain that connects up out here.”

“What’s in there?” Hannibal asked not wanting to hear the answer but needing to know.

Murdock shook his head. He had barely been able to convince the too real figment of his imagination to help them. When he asked the dog about what they were facing, the poor animal had covered his head and whimpered.

“I don’t believe any of this,” BA muttered to himself but he held up the axe and brought it down on the window as hard as he could.

They all held their breath. If it had been any other window, the blow would have shattered it into a million pieces. The window still held firm but there was a crack and that was more than they had before. Hannibal and Murdock picked up what was at hand and joined in the attack.

“A photographic memory is both a gift and a curse,” Face mused. His memory, fine-tuned with his sniper skills, enabled him to spot even the smallest changes in the rooms. This allowed him to study the creatures and learn about them but he had seen things that he was sure he’d have nightmares about for a long time.

“If you live,” he reminded himself.

It, also, gave him the ability to remember everything that he had read in the orientation manual and the things in the office. But what was there? What could be used to help him? An old fan, papers, pens, piles of plush versions of those killing machines, backpacks and purses, ripped bloody clothes; probably from the people trapped in here before him and a bear mask.

The manual told him that if you wore the mask, some of the creatures might assume that you were already in the exoskeleton and leave you alone.

“Some was a very big word,” he thought.

He was a sitting duck in here, just waiting for them to find him. Maybe it was time to try something else and see if there was a way out of here.

“You’re the world’s greatest con man,” he told himself. “It’s all about disguise and distraction. You do it all the time. This is no different than Crazy Tommy or any of the others. If you believe it, they’ll believe it. Others might have tried it but they don’t have your flair. Give these guys something that they haven’t seen before. You can do this.”

He remembered one time when Murdock asked him how you can tell the difference between a boy cartoon animal and a girl cartoon animal. The answer wasn’t as he guessed that you lift up their tail; something that he definitely wouldn’t do with this group. The answer was eyelashes and a hair bow. The team always said that he could seduce a lamppost. He was about to put that theory to the test.

He could do this. Permanent markers gave the mask the illusion of long dark eyelashes and ruby lips, a torn cloth and some pins gave him the bow, two shirts tightly tied across his waist gave him a skirt, the plush toys stuffed in his shirt gave him a few respectable curves, and the piece de resistance…

Face took the pen knife from his pocket and made a few strategic cuts along his arms and legs. He smeared the seeping blood across the mask, mouth and his hands. He didn’t go to the desk or watch the screens that would be a rookie mistake. He was Goldie Bear, the newest creature spawned by whatever had created those things. He, no she, had managed to sneak into the office while the others had gone after the weasley man. She had found the interloper who had escaped his exoskeleton and she had fixed the problem and had his blood covering her as proof.

Hopefully, if the things could smell, it would explain his scent. Hopefully, he could confuse them for a bit. Hopefully he wasn’t merely exchanging a small cage for a larger cage. Hopefully he wasn’t going to die.

Part V

It was Freddy who burst through the office door. The bear’s eyes were bloodshot and his teeth were displayed as he barreled into the room but he stopped short at the sight in front of him.

Face was careful to keep his taped fingers together and bent toward him, praying that it would make his hand look more like the rounded limbs of the animatronics. He growled in a passable facsimile of what he had heard throughout the night and swung out as if he…no, she was afraid that something would take part of her kill.

Freddy was not attacking but Chica, who had squeezed herself around the bear, eyed the interloper with suspicion.

Face, no Goldie, rose fluidly from her crouch, flinging her head back, no fears, and giggling in the ghoulish way these creatures spoke. She might have been mistaken but she thought he saw a gleam in Freddy’s eye.

Chica sniffed disdainfully and turned away, lumbering out of the room. Freddy cocked his head and stared for a few hard seconds before turned away from her.

Face’s instinct not to sigh in relief proved to be right when Freddy’s head snapped back, almost a hundred eighty degrees, to see what the newest member of his team was doing.

Goldie flounced forward, letting her shoulder brush against Freddy’s darker shoulders as she passed. The bear didn’t seem to mind.

Goldie didn’t hesitate or gawk as she made her way through the hallways. Careful that there was nothing in her actions which suggested that she didn’t belong there. She knew her life depended on it.

Even though it never moved, she could feel the eyes of the macabre boy holding the balloons; staring at her, examining her, trying to guess the truth. The marionette was another matter; sitting on the box, its head turned as she passed by, its hands opening and closing as if deciding whether it should rip off her face. Foxy, the pirate fox, had no such hesitations. Its eyes were blazing and its jaws snapping as it rushed toward her.

Before she had a chance to react, the steel enforced arm of Freddy shot out, knocking the red beast to the ground. Freddy positioned himself in front of her, his shoulders puffed and growling in threat.

Foxy leaped to his feet, his head bowed in a subservient manner though not backing down. Goldie, still positioned behind Freddy, growled back and threw out her own claw in a halfhearted aggression. Foxy looked for an opening as Freddy prepared to attack.

The convulsions started without warning or fanfare.

They weren’t really convulsion but Face didn’t have any other word to describe it. The shocking sight caused him to break character. The creatures’ heads and jaws moved in rapid jerky motions. There was no rhyme or reason to the movements or the mixture of screaming growls which came from their throats. It looked like the they were in pain. The effect was disconcerting and continued for a few long seconds.

When it was over, they appeared unfazed and no longer interested in him. Foxy and Freddy, their fight forgotten, both headed away like something was calling to them.

Intrigued Face followed behind them, all the way into the main dining room where Chica and Bonnie waited. They milled about, the strange gyrations occurring again and again. Listening, Face realized the oscillations were accompanied by a pounding sound; a pounding sound on one of the windows, pounding which came from outside the building.

Face’s eyes darted to the source of the noise. He saw the fine spiderlike cracks appearing on the glass; cracks which were getting bigger.

“Someone was trying to get in,” he realized. There could only be one group crazy enough to do this and only one reason why they were doing it. He had to stop them. Above all, he couldn’t let them get trapped in this place.

As one, the creatures turned and began heading for various hiding places inside the room.

“An ambush. But the game plan is the same,” he told himself. “Get yourself into position and be ready for an opening to warn the team or escape.”

Face positioned himself as close as he could to the window while still seeming to be hiding in wait.

Through his peripheral vision, he saw the marionette; now standing, its head cocked and looking at him. It appeared to sway, back and forth; each movement bringing it closer. It seemed undecided. If it didn’t know the truth; it suspected it.

“Focus,” Face told himself. “You’ve been in this position before. You belong here. No one knows who you are. Be ready to make your move.”

The beating on the window increased in volume as the cracks got more pronounced but still he waited. He knew he’d only have one shot at this.

Finally a hole appeared in the window. But it was small, too small for anything to get through. He wanted to run at it but the time wasn’t right. The marionette seemed to take this as evidence that the golden bear was part of its team and began to drift away.

Half releasing the breath that he had been holding, Face continued to wait.

Despite the cool of the night air, Hannibal was damp with sweat. He and the rest of the team had been hitting the window with everything they had with only minimal progress. After many long minutes, they had only created a small hole which they were trying to enlarge.

Hannibal stared at the hole, now about a foot across, in disgust as he lifted the hammer and brought it down. Unless whatever in there was deaf, he was sure that they had lost the element of surprise.

He jumped back as something hit the window, hard, from inside of the building.

Whatever that thing had been trying to do, it was unsuccessful. The team watched in trepidation as it bounced off of the glass, got up and began pounding on the window. Something that looked like a misshaped hand tried to reach through the hole but pulled back, as if burned, when it got too close.

“What the hell is that?” BA exclaimed as he tried to see through the frosted glass.

The cut of the figure and the head were not right but Hannibal knew what or rather who it was. While his brain cautioned him about the risk of being wrong, every bit of his intuition told him warned him what could be lost if he hesitated.

“It’s Face,” Hannibal said as he thrust a gloved hand through the hole, grabbing the figure’s wrist, and pulling it out.

“That’s Facie’s watch!” Murdock said as he picked up Hannibal’s dropped hammer and worked to enlarge the hole. “Remember don’t cut yourself.”

Hannibal nodded as he continued to pull at Face’s arm.

For unfathomable reasons as he pulled Face’s body against the glass, it react like a normal window; breaking more with one blow of the kid’s body than ten blows of the hammer.

Through the frosted glass, he saw dark shadows moving toward the kid. Face’s eyes widened in shock and pain as his body jerked back as if something was trying to pull him away from his team.

BA added his strength as he grabbed at Face’s arm. Steeling a leg against the side of the building, he and Hannibal pulled as hard as they could. The glass shattered more, exposing Face’s shoulder which Murdock grabbed, straining his muscles trying to rescue his friend.

The window broke into a thousand pieces as they pulled their friend through and dragged him to the ground. Hannibal wanted nothing more than to check over the young man but he trusted Face to BA’s care; needing to ensure nothing else escaped the building.

He stood poised at the window, looking into the bleak darkness ready to shoot anything that moved. But there was nothing. The dark shapes that he had sworn he saw moving in there seemed to have dissipated into the shadows; leaving nothing to explain the shape of the man behind him.

Face was sprawled on the dirty cement, his eyes wild, his clothes and flesh cut by numerous shards of glass and his ankle…If there was nothing in there then what had done that to his ankle. The pants were

torn, they were ripped; not by something sharp but something blunt and heavy. Already large dark bruises appeared on the skin. It looked like someone or something tried to crush it.

And the mask; a bear mask, one like a child would wear at the zoo. Face screamed, begging them to get it off of him. BA grabbed it, flinging it as far and he could.

The corporal turned back to the lieutenant trying to staunch the blood from so many cuts but the kid was having none of it as he tried, unsuccessfully, to scramble to his feet, to continue his escape.

“We gotta go,” he pleaded not understanding why they didn’t understand the danger of staying. “They’re coming…Gotta run…Get away.”

“Get back fool,” BA said as he swatted at Murdock. “You’re not helping anything.”

“He’s my friend too,” Murdock explained wanting to touch, comfort and help. He pulled out Face’s penknife and used it to cut away the tape on the conman’s hands.

“Do you hear that?” he asked as a confused look appeared on his face.

Hannibal shot Murdock an anxious look wondering what he was talking about but then he, too, heard the sounds.

Honking horns, sirens, somebody with their radio too loud; the sounds of the city. They were so common place; he wasn’t sure why he noticing them until he realized how long it had been since he had heard them.

Ever since he had tried to wrench open the door of the pizzeria, ever since he had last heard Face’s voice; they had been gone. He had been so intent on finding a way to rescue his missing man that he hadn’t realized that the outside world had literally ceased to exist. But now it was back.

“Does this mean it’s over?” he wondered.

Hannibal became aware of another sound; a car coming toward them too fast with shouts of recognition.

“Get in the van!” Hannibal ordered as he turned his weapon to the mouth of the alley.

“But…” Murdock started.

“It’s Cooper. We got to move.”

Despite his inability to stand on his own two feet, Face was more than anxious to leave. But he had more will than ability so BA scooped the lieutenant up as Murdock rushed to open the back of the van and Hannibal provided a little bit of cover.

Luck, finally appeared to be with them as Cooper either lacked the manpower or was too stupid to block both ends of the alley. BA gunned the engine and they were off; not a tactical retreat but an escape.

Cooper’s limo was expensive and impressive but lacked the speed and the agility of BA’s baby. The van quickly left it in the dust.

“God damn it!” Vincent Cooper cursed as he fired off a couple of useless shots at the fleeing vehicle. “I thought you said that you knew how to drive! They’re getting away!”

“I think I can still catch him!” Louie insisted even though he knew it would be a lost cause. But he was all too aware on what the boss did to people who failed him.

“Nah, they’re gone. Go back. Maybe we can find out who they were and what the hell happened to Tony and the boys.”

Louie hurried back to where the van had been parked. With any luck, he could pin everything on Big Tony and let him feel the boss’ wrath.

“Useless,” Cooper thought to himself as he watched Louie dig through the trash. The guy had been searching fifteen minutes and couldn’t find a god damn thing.

“Damn,” Louie said as he wiped his hand against the wall of the building.

“Find something?”

“Nah, I cut myself on something …Hey boss.”

“What is it?”

“Turn on the headlights. I think I see a broken window?”

“There ain’t no broken window out there.”

Cooper planned the ways that he would make Louie suffer if he was wrong but he turned on the headlights and gaped at the sight.

“How the hell did you miss that?” he asked climbing out of the car.

“I don’t know?” Louie answered as he squinted into the darkness, “but I think I see something moving in there.”

Despite the foul smell, Cooper’s lips formed into a smile.

“Well let’s go in,” Cooper said as he pulled out his gun, “and have a talk with him.”

Louie didn’t say anything as he watched Mr. Cooper climb through the opening. There was something about that window that made the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen. He wanted to turn tail and run but he didn’t. Nothing could be as bad as getting on the wrong side of Mr. Cooper.

“Get your ass in here!” Cooper ordered. “I think I see him.”

Louie could almost feel sorry for whoever was in there because he knew the one thing Mr. Cooper didn’t have was mercy. As he climbed down into the darken room, he cocked his head to identify the odd sound.

“Crazy,” he thought as he shook his head. “Who’d be calling someone inside an abandoned building?”

Then he heard the scream.

Epilogue

Hannibal sighed in exasperation and wonder at the remarkable and unfathomable Templeton Peck. It had been a little over two weeks since the Cooper Fiasco and the lieutenant was claiming that he was fine and whining about wanting to start a new case.

“Fiasco,” Hannibal shook his head at the use of the word. Their clients hadn’t considered it a fiasco. They were happy enough to pay in full and throw in a small bonus for finishing the job so quickly without undue drama or destruction.

He wondered how they would react if they knew that the team didn’t have anything to do Cooper and his gang’s disappearance. After getting Face into the van, they had run with their tail between their legs intent on getting as far away from that Hell on Earth as possible.

He didn’t know everything that happened after they left the alley. He knew that Cooper was in the car chasing them. So that would make them the last people who had seen the man alive.

The neighborhood didn’t have any more trouble after that night. And five days later, missing person reports were filed for Cooper and four of his men.

He had asked Amy to check into the missing person reports and find out who filed them. She told him that the reports were filed by anonymous. An unofficial source in the department told her that over the years, there had been a small pile of such reports; reports which just appeared in the system, all filed by anonymous, some of them were known people of the neighborhood, some were people that no one knew, none of them had ever been heard from again.

Amy’s source told her that it was one of the things that no one in the station ever talked about.

“And speaking of not talking,” Hannibal thought as his mind turned back to his lieutenant. Face hadn’t said a word about what happened in there and it looked like he never would.

The first forty nine hours after the incident had not been the worst; even though the kid’s flat out refusal to sleep, his insistence that all of the lights be left on and all the doors open had been disturbing.

He had almost been ready to use BA’s knockout drops and force the kid to sleep. But even the Face’s will is finite. His chin dropped more and more until finally his eyes closed and that was when the nightmares started.

Hannibal shuddered as he remembered. They had been the worst part. Not since the team’s escape from Cho’s death camp had the kid experienced so many vivid dreams. It seemed that every time his eyes drooped shut, he would start screaming; screaming about things that they knew were impossible but suspected were true.

They had all taken turns holding him, reassuring him that it was over and that he was safe. Eventually the dreams tapered off and finally stopped. Hannibal remembered the gratitude he felt holding the kid the first time that he had managed to sleep through the night…and through the next thirty one hours.

When Face finally woke up; he showered, ate a large breakfast and announced that he was fine and didn’t have anything to say about that night or those things.

Hannibal sighed heavily. He didn’t know what had happened to Tem when he was a kid but, based on a few overheard nightmares, it had been pretty bad. You couldn’t tell it by looking at the handsome young man who radiated carefree confidence but he was hiding a lot of demons. Over the years, the kid had learned a way to lock those memories away in his mind. It was how he coped with things.

Face had done it with his childhood traumas. He had done it with the horrors of Nam and the prison camp. And now he had done it with Freddy Fazbear.

“Not textbook healthy,” Hannibal thought, “but maybe the only way open to him.”

They were soldiers of fortune, wanted men. If caught by the bad guys, they faced death. If the army caught them, it would be death by firing squad or life in prison. Face…they did not have the luxury of analyzing and dealing with all of this.

At the end of the day, they were all alive and another bad guy was out of the picture. He…they should put a period on it and move on.

And he thought he could; until a mailman turned up at the safe house where they were staying. It was a newly built house that had never had a previous tenant. Curious he had checked the mailbox and pulled out a letter addressed to Richard Bancroft from Freddy Fazbear Inc.

Without telling the others, he pocketed the letter, grabbed the van and drove miles away. He opened it and discovered a check for twenty dollars made out to Richard Bancroft for one night of work. The envelope, also, contained a pink slip informing Mr. Bancroft that he had been terminated for misuse of the animatronics and for sending in a substitute who had left the job without prior notice.

Hannibal wondered about the letter; what did it mean, who had sent it, how did they know where Face was, and why was the letter made out to Richard Bancroft.

As he crumbled out the envelope a small picture fell out; a picture of a birthday party at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. The young child, not more than two or three, whose birthday he assumed they were celebrating, did not look happy. He was crying as a smiling couple held him up to the head of the bear whose mouth was wide open.

He wondered why the blue eyes of the child looked so familiar.

Hannibal shook away all the thoughts which were running though his head. Face was right, this was over. It had to be over. He pulled out a lighter and lit it all; the envelope, the check, the letter and the photograph.

He felt satisfaction as they burst into flames and flittered to the ground. He didn’t move or say anything as they burned. He turned away and climbed back into the van to return home; back to the safe house, back to the team, back to Face. He didn’t care if they still burned. He didn’t care if they ignited the whole area on fire; whatever it took as long as they were gone and this was over.

As the photograph curled into a black ember, it shimmered slightly as the words ‘He’s the one’ appeared for one brief second before turning into ash and then nothingness.

The End