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I Should Be Dead	By : Alice_Jones Category: +A through F > Five Nights at Freddys Views: 1499 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Five Nights at Freddy's, nor any of the characters from said franchise. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Scott was still throwing me his stupid looks from where he sat with the kids, so I watched the room a bit. Yes, hello, Chica. God, that machine. Always watching. As much as a machine could be said to do that, but I really know a thing or two about machines and their intent. Man, intent. What a word to apply to a robot. But they were more than that. Faher had done things that made them different than other machines. I left the room and her eyes, and sat down in the office to watch the cameras. To shake the feeling, I flicked right to the stage, and she was staring at me! Goddamit. I'll fucking disable you in a heartbeat. Maybe I needed some time off. Some time to harvest from the homes I had scoped on my own time, away from this place. I glared until they finished their song, but she still stared. What the hell? I closed the screen and for a distraction, closed my eyes to sit back and remember the mouth that had minutes ago been wrapped around me. Maybe I would call her. Take some time off and make myself available in the daytime when she was most likely to get away with a bit of infidelity. All I needed was enough distractions, and everything would be bearable.
I stayed there like that until the place emptied. Then I heard Scott's footfalls head for me. "What the hell was that?" He asked as he barged in on my quiet time. "You can't screw the customers, Vincent."
"Or the employees?" I asked. He opened his mouth, and I kept going. "Look Scott, I'm sorry. It was unprofessional, and it could have caused trouble for the business. I understand that. But I couldn't stop. You wouldn't understand. An unfeeling ass like you wouldn't get it."
He looked at me wondering, and a storm brewed in his eyes. "I might," he said softly. I snuck a guilty look at him, and looked back down quickly.
"Her eyes."
"What?"
"Her eyes." I covered my face and mumbled through my palms heavily, "Her eyes looked like yours." He stared at me in shock. He had no frame of reference for what I was laying on him. I got up. "I didn't drug you. Have a good night, Scott." He backed up as I walked past him to the exit, and left.
The next day he greeted me with a "good morning" before I could get mine out, and I knew I had him. Somehow, he had rationalized shit in his brain until I came out the good guy. Or something close enough to it. I let my face light up in reply, rewarding his faith with a wide smile, then shyly looked away. I turned my back to him to make my tea, and he worked up the courage to clear his throat. "Vincent, I'm sorry. I can't believe what I said yesterday. I'm really a nice guy."
I turned around quickly to assure him, "I know you are, Scott. You're the nicest guy I know." I gave him some fleeting eye contact, like it was hard for me to do, then got my cup and walked out to turn on the lights and open the doors. I really hoped some neglected brown eyed beauty walked through them again today. I snuck the tiniest of looks at the stage, and made myself keep walking. "Good morning Chica," I growled as the hum of the lights filled the place. I looked back at her, and Freddy was watching me too. I turned away, and fought back the recurring thought that had followed me for years. I've long been preoccupied with the state of my mental health. But it wasn't in my head, was it? After all, I rationalized, they were designed to watch for predators, and I was definitely one. Just not in any database they were yearly upgraded with. Could father have instiled some kind of robotic equivalent for instinct?.Some profiling abilities?
I almost walked into Scott on my way to the cameras, and he squeaked in surprise. I distractedly excused myself, and left him staring after me. As soon as I flipped the screen, she was there, watching. Then Freddy turned his head, and they were both watching me. That's stupid. They can't watch through security cameras, you fool. I knew that. I did, and I said it in my mind a few times then closed the screen. Through Funtime Foxy, I detected movement behind me. Scott was standing there, watching. I thought of putting out an add to hire a nightwatchman, some fresh meat for Chica. Maybe that would get her off me. She's not on you, you crazy fuck. I shook off the thought, and turned to Scott.
He jumped, and stammered a bit. "Sorry. I wasn't watching you. I mean! I mean I wasn't spying on you or anything. I just, I mean, are you OK?"
"Yeah." I ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah. This place, you know? It gets to me sometimes." Tomorrow was Sunday; this place would be closed, and I would have plenty of time to get here and clean up the mess before Monday came.
"I know what you mean. The noise is what can get to me sometimes."
"You could always work the nightshift," I suggested, but it was never a sincere suggestion. Not really. Scott was fun. I didn't want him stuffed into an electronic suit just yet.
"I never really thought about it. I'd never see Amy if I had to be up all night, and LInda would throw a fit."
"Yeah. I guess she would. It was just a thought."
"Why wouldn't you work the nightshift?"
Because I'd have no one to play with, I thought, but instead, I got up and walked to him. He took a tiny step back at my approach. I met his eyes, and said, "You really don't know?" I advanced until he hit wall, and pushed my body against his, making as many points of contact as I could. I held his face and brought my lips to his, and he whimpered in hopelessness. I spoke against his mouth, soft and breathy, "I'd switch to nights in a second if you would, too. And if you work days, then I'll work days. I'll listen to fifty screaming ill-bred little shits every day, clean up their cake and puke and kiss their asses gladly to be anywhere near you." He sighed as the ghost of a smile haunted his lips, and the main door in the party room opened, letting in a handful of said little shits. I licked his lips quickly, then stepped away, straightening my clothes to go out and greet customers.
The day flew in a rush because I was distracted by Chica, and thoughts of mollifying her. I even spent some time in the office, looking through want ads, and looking for some twenty-something desperate male to take the postion. I made a few calls, and caught one before the day was over. I told him to be here at midnight, and hung up the phone pretty satisfied with myself. Lighthearted enough to play a bit with Scott, so I threw desirous looks his way from time to time, making him sweat and stammer nervously to the customers. I chuckled inwardly, and the day whizzed by. At the end of it, I let a lingering look sit between me and my little rabbit, then sighed deeply. "Goodnight Scott."
"Goodnight!" he squeaked as i walked out, leaving him to lock up.
We never needed a nightguard. The idea is ridiculous. These are murderous machines at night. What's a guard going to guard that they already don't? All a guard is going to do is turn to pulp bfore morning.
Right before midnight, I showed up to instruct the new guy on a few points (none of them helpful), handed him a flashlight, then opened the doors for him. He went in, and I closed them behind him. See ya, dummy. Good fucking luck. God, don't people hear shit about this place? I went home in a good mood, and crawled into bed pleased with myself.
The next morning I got up and went to work, and Chica was still staring me down, even though I could smell our former employee. I walked by to find the remains of whoever that had been. He was in the parts and service room, of course, (they always were) and parts of him had made it into the suit. Parts of him didn't. His arm was still attached somehow, but hanging out and over the rest of him. I pulled out the solids from the suit and grabbed the ones on the floor and bagged them, then went for a mop bucket to fill with water and bleach.
I mopped and remopped with a few changes of water to be extra careful, and I changed the mophead when I was done, putting the old one in the bag with the chump. Then I turned to leave the parts and service room, and Chica was there at the door, staring at me with her bloody cupcake.
I barked out a nervous laugh, and held the bag between us. "Morning luv" I called as cheefully as I could. "Have a good night?" She stood there, and I looked at her "hands". They were cean. Someone else had made the kill, then. "That's too bad. I can get you another one, but you have to beat the others to it this time." I backed up a little, trying to get some space, and she started coming forward. "It's after six - you're supposed to be on stage!" I backed up a little more, then heard a voice from the party room. A child's voice. Chica's head whipped around, then her body followed, turning in the direction of the blessed sound. Then she left. I stood there just breathing for a few minutes. The voice turned into three, and I was able to pick out Scott's. Beautiful fucking Scott! Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Fucking Chica. I heard the machines start up their stupid birthday song.
I walked out of the room quietly, anxious to both get myself out of there, and get my bagged chump out. And if I ever came back, I was a fool. I headed for the back door, and almost cursed aloud when Scott called me down the hall, from the party room.
"Vincent? Is that you?"
Like he knew any other purple guys. I set the bag down to slump on the floor. "Yeah. It's me. I'm actually on my way out."
"You should meet my family. I brought them here to see the show today."
Godamit. I recently pounded your ass till you came in my hand. Why would you want me to meet your family? "I'm sorry Scott, but I really should go."
He walked up the hall to me. "Please stay. Look, we brought cake and everything. And Amy doesn't know anyone here yet....so it's just us. Nothing sadder than a birthday party with three people." He blinked those big brown eyes up at me, and they were full of the hurt on behalf of his daughter. What a sap. What an endearingly soft mewling sap.
I sighed, "OK," and those eyes lit up, making me truly smile a little. "I just have to go to my car quickly."
"Yeah, sure. Hey, thanks Vincent."
"Mhmm," I partly uttered on my way out. What the hell is this? A fucking kid's party? What are you doing? What was I doing? Fucking Scott. But if he and his baggage hadn't shown up today, I would have been in one of those suits. By now, I thought, I would have been pulp. Fucking Scott. Fucking Chica. I dumped the bag in my trunk, and went back inside.
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I Should Be Dead