Crying child crash out chapter 8: Broken home, broken hopes and broken dreams
Happy late 12th anniversary Fnaf!
Charlotte sidestepped her way out of Elizabeth's punch; the ginger-haired girl was shorter than her; however, she was on the more athletic side. “Not athletic enough to stop whatever William made from killing you.” Charlotte thought of her opponent as she swung her right leg to the side; it connected against Elizabeth's shin.
Then Elizabeth fell; her hand reached forth and grasped Charlotte's shirt. Charlotte widened her eyes in surprise; she saw Elizabeth readying a punch, a punch that was aimed at her gut.
The angry, tear-stained visage of Evan Afton came to mind. Charlotte narrowed her eyes as she brought her arms close to her chest. Getting punched in the wound in her stomach was not a very good experience to go through. The oncoming punch connected on her arm. She quickly returned with a chop on Elizabeth’s wrist. The ginger girl screamed in pain, let go of Charlotte, and fell.
“How can you do that!?” Elizabeth cried out in a howl of furious sorrow; tears streamed down her face as she tried to throw a punch at Charlotte, but the girl evaded Elizabeth's punch. “Where do you think my wounds came from?” Charlotte replied, gesturing at the wounds in her torso.
“He deserves to die because of what he did to me.” Charlotte continued as she leapt backwards and threw her strings forward. The verdant loops and lines shot ahead; she could feel them landing on her mark, that being the ground that Elizabeth was standing on. Then she pulled her strings taut, and Elizabeth was pulled down with a cry.
Charlotte walked towards Elizabeth with a stern look on her face. Evan sprinted at them with a distressed expression etched on his face. “Please… Just listen to us.” The boy pleaded to his sister in a soft voice. The girl struggled against her restraints. She could barely believe it! Her father… Her beloved father…
“Daddy…” Elizabeth called out for her father in what could be described as despair; the strings burned at the slightest touch. She gritted her teeth in pain as the strings constricted her.
“Let me go!” The girl cried out in protest; she was in no mood to listen to her brother's words or whatever justification Charlotte was trying to offer for murdering her father. She howled out in fury as the strings burned away by the strength of her rage. “Elizabeth!” Evan called out to his sister. The girl stood up, her face a mask of barely contained fury.
“Let’s talk…” Evan pleaded to his sister, his voice soft and desperate. The boy was afraid; he wanted the fight to end. Filled with rage, Elizabeth turned in Evan’s direction. She walked on heavy and fierce footsteps, then with a swing of her left fist, it connected to the right side of Evan’s face. The boy was sent tumbling to the ground under the force of his sister’s punch. She shot a glare at him, as if saying. “I will deal with you next.”
Evan cupped his right hand against his bruised cheek; he looked on in pain as Elizabeth continued to engage in combat against Charlotte. “Damn it…” Evan gritted his teeth as his face contorted into a mask of grieving rage and sorrow.
Charlotte sidestepped her way out of Elizabeth's punch; the ginger-haired girl was shorter than her; however, she was on the more athletic side. “Not athletic enough to stop whatever William made from killing you.” Charlotte thought of her opponent as she swung her right leg to the side; it connected against Elizabeth's shin.
Then Elizabeth fell; her hand reached forth and grasped Charlotte's shirt. Charlotte widened her eyes in surprise; she saw Elizabeth readying a punch, a punch that was aimed at her gut.
The angry, tear-stained visage of Evan Afton came to mind. Charlotte narrowed her eyes as she brought her arms close to her chest. Getting punched in the wound in her stomach was not a very good experience to go through. The oncoming punch connected on her arm. She quickly returned with a chop on Elizabeth’s wrist. The ginger girl screamed in pain, let go of Charlotte, and fell.
“What did your father do when you were inside that machine?” Charlotte asked rhetorically, her eyes shining with determination and the will to make her understand. Elizabeth sat up; several thoughts came to her mind. These thoughts are… They are memories, her memories… Memories of metal and electricity.
Her eyes opened to the cold, metallic, and sterile facility; her auditory receptors took in the sound of machines humming, the sound of maintenance workers maintaining other robots.
Something felt off… What happened? She could barely make out her surroundings; was she always this big? Her limbs felt so big and heavy, not unlike wearing a costume too big for her size.
A tall figure stood beyond the glass window; his features were dimly illuminated. The man stood there, staring down at her. “I am here!” She tried to call out. She didn't register her words being spoken.
The man stood beyond the window; he looked down at the notepad he held in his hand; the other hand held a pencil. Jotting down notes like he was a student in a class.
“I am right here!” Elizabeth tried to call out again; once again she didn't hear herself speaking. She could still hear the machinery around her. Why?
Then the man stopped writing. He clicked on something- a button she assumed and the next thing she knew was an agony that surged through her entire being. She couldn't think; her body spasmed as the electrifying agony struck her, and this time, Elizabeth heard herself scream.
Elizabeth had to stop thinking about the man behind the glass panel. That place underground was connected to her home. Which means that… An idea that she doesn't want to accept begins to surface in her mind.
“No…!” Elizabeth stammered as she rose to her feet. Charlotte continued to stare Elizabeth down as a smug grin split her lips. Evan watched on with a pained expression on his face.
“I found it!”
Michael's announcement seemed so far and distant; the lyrics of a song were the least of everyone's worries at the moment. Evan didn’t know what to do; he was frozen in inner conflict. His sister is hurting, and yet she sympathises with a man who is responsible for so much pain and suffering; on top of that, she promised to hurt him too. At the same time, because she’s hurting, that’s all the more reason to help and comfort her.
Michael's smile faded away and in its place was an expression of shock, surprise, and bewilderment. “What the fuck happened here?” Michael muttered in disbelief; he just left for like ten minutes, and this is what he came back to!?
His siblings were on the verge of a mental breakdown, and Charlotte stood there looking smug like she had achieved something great. Charlotte noticed the older boy’s presence; the girl smiled, then she started to talk. “I just told her what happened to her father and she went ballistic.” As Charlotte spoke, Michael’s brow furrowed, his grip on the book tightened, and the cover of the book crumpled slightly under the force of his grip. “You shouldn’t have told her that,” Michael replied, his voice low and his anger simmering within him. The peace that he tried to craft lay in pieces before him, and here Charlotte was. Looking smug like a cat after delivering a dead rat to its owner.
“She asked, and she received; it’s her problem that she can’t acce-” Charlotte continued, but before she could finish, Elizabeth sprinted at Charlotte and her sprint transitioned into a lunge as she leapt into the air; her weight collided against Charlotte’s lithe frame. The two of them tumbled to the ground.
Charlotte felt Elizabeth straddling her, and Elizabeth wasted no time in attacking the girl she called her friend. It started off with a blow to her gut, a blow to the stab wound. Charlotte screamed as she tried to push Elizabeth off of her; however, Elizabeth held her ground, straddling Charlotte.
Elizabeth punched Charlotte again as she cried out in pain; her rage-filled eyes bore down on Charlotte with an intensity that could set her ablaze if Elizabeth's vision could conduct heat to begin with. “Enough!” Elizabeth heard Michael calling for her to stop, and the next thing she knew was that she was hoisted by the collar of her shirt from behind.
“Let go of me!” Elizabeth screeched in barely contained fury; she flailed her limbs like an unruly feline grabbed by the back of its neck. Charlotte got back up on her feet; she felt someone touching her shoulder.
“That's enough,” Evan said to her, his voice soft and low. Charlotte Emily huffed in petulant rage, her eyes blazed with green fire as she fixed her sights on the flailing girl.
Michael didn't hold Elizabeth far enough; a stray blow from the underside of her fist came in contact with his chest, and the teen shuddered under her blow. Michael gasped and let go of Elizabeth. As soon as Elizabeth found her feet on the ground, she started to run.
She ran down the hill and went beyond the gate. As she ran, her thoughts drifted through several things. “How did things go like this?” she didn't understand, nor did she want to. The comfortable life and existence she had was ripped away violently; first it was that one incident with that robot doll, then it was…
“Stop right there!” Evan called out for her. Since when did that patricidal boy follow her? Elizabeth kept on running; she didn't want to see that boy who killed her father - their father- nor did she want to see the demon that Charlotte had become.
…
“Concentrate, Andrew.” Spring Bonnie’s voice rang out as Andrew struggled to focus his will on the two animatronics before him. Andrew knew he needed to be strong; however, he could barely feel his will connecting to the rabbit and the chicken. They stood motionless like statues; they made no sound other than the cold, deactivated silence. “Listen to me, damn it!” Andrew thought as he cursed those inert machines that Spring Bonnie or he, the one who killed him, was able to control so easily. He clenched his teeth as he poured even more of his will into them.
William tilted his head; he wondered if he had misjudged Andrew’s potential. Was he really that stupid? Or was Andrew just simply different from Evan? Minutes ticked by, and still nothing happened.
“It seems like… You are not as strong as I thought…” Spring Bonnie voiced his doubts about the boy's abilities; an anxious thought dashed through Andrew's mind. “Is he going to abandon me?” The boy thought anxiously. He never had a father growing up and now… The rabbit man who was just so nice to him for the past few days… Is going to abandon him? Rationally speaking, he shouldn't be afraid; he was used to being alone. Then he saw the rabbit walking away, which confirmed his fears.
“Don't leave me!” The boy cried out in a fit of panic, and his fear seemed to make Bonnie and Chica respond to his will. The animatronics leapt to action; their eyes were shining with crimson.
“So you do have what it takes…” Spring Bonnie whispered, his voice carrying an edge of excitement, “Wonderful.” He clapped his hands like a performance director getting impressed by a performer.
“The point is…” Andrew started, his voice tight with anxiety as he panted from exertion. The rabbit looked at him with unblinking eyes. “Will you leave me?” The boy asked.
“Holy cow, this kid is clingier than I thought.” The man thought to himself as he thought of something to say. “You are too anxious,” Spring Bonnie said as he shrugged his shoulders. “I am not going to throw you away just because you are not strong enough.” The man continued.
The rabbit could see the tension in Foxy's shoulders easing as the boy's control over Bonnie and Chica waned. “So his power correlates to his emotions…” William thought as he continued to analyse the boy within the red fox.
“Wait! Something is coming!” Andrew called out. Ever since he died, he gained the ability to feel. The ability to feel the dead. Mr Spring Bonnie felt like a warm campfire. Sometimes he trains him, sometimes he is nice. He listened to his vents and stayed by his side. Of course he should be good for Mr Spring Bonnie.
However, now, the foundations are starting to shake… A seed of anxiety started to germinate within him. He was afraid that one day… The rabbit that filled the father-shaped hole in his heart… Would too leave him and cast him to the cold winds of loneliness and the darkness of apathy.
William snapped his head up in attention; he heard the voices of children, two of them. His ears perked up as he recognised who those voices belonged to. William went ahead and opened the door. Two ghosts barged in, a blur of red and a blur of light cyan following suit.
“I never thought you would come back to me…” William's face twisted into a sinister smile as he realized who had just come back into his grasp. The ghost looked up, and his face paled with fear.
Andrew could hear the girl saying something, as if asking a question. “Daddy?” Andrew felt something flash through him; he saw the rabbit man turning his attention to the girl. Jealousy. “Who are you?” He demanded as he shifted his attention to the girl.
Evan bit his lips in anxiety; he recognised the man within the yellow rabbit suit. It was his father, and he could feel a presence within Foxy too. Someone he didn't recognize.
“Look over there, Andrew,” William spoke, addressing the boy inside of the fox. “He is the one.” William continued as he pointed his finger in Evan's direction. “The one who took our lives.” William finished. Andrew took in William's words and looked at the boy Spring Bonnie was pointing at in disbelief.
“That's the one? This scrawny kid with rags on his head!?” Andrew thought as he took in Evan's appearance. Of all things, this boy was the one who put an end to his life, the feeling of disbelief and anger coursing through him. He took in the boy's appearance, just a little boy around his age. Dressed in a “dress” made out of a teal garbage bag with these filthy rags wrapped around his head, Andrew was confident that even without Bonnie or Chica, he could beat this bastard down!
Evan had nothing to say to rebuke his father's accusation. The boy concentrated on his will and called Fredbear. The bear responded to his will; its eyes flashed blue. A golden blur charged through the restaurant.
Evan brought Fredbear by his side; the robot's eyes glowed a brilliant blue, and Andrew recognised that glow. “It was really you…” He growled, his initial disbelief dispelled and in its place was a seething rage. Evan tried to call Foxy to stand down, but he could no longer reach him. A powerful will had overruled his control over the fox.
The fox's eyes shone neither blue nor yellow; instead, they shone in the colour of bright crimson. Irrational panic ran through him as a demon called anxiety whispered bad omens into his ears.
He didn't know whether an animatronic with the power of a soul could interact with ghosts or not, so he phased into Fredbear. Evan felt his powers flowing through the servo and circuits. The animatronic became his body, and he was the mind controlling it.
The fox charged forward, his hook raised for a slash. Evan raised his arm up for a block, and the hook punched through plastic and snagged against the metallic lattice of the inside of Fredbear's suit. The two animatronics were locked together in a close brawl.
Andrew pushed the hook deeper into the bear, his face a twisted visage of fury and resolve. The chances of being able to negotiate with the person within Foxy were low, but Evan tried anyway.
“Listen, I am not here to fight!” He called out in distress. Evan's pleas fell on deaf ears. Andrew ripped the hook out of Fredbear's arm and readied himself for another attack.
“I am going to drag you out of that stupid bear.” Two voices came from Foxy's voicebox; one was his own, the other belonged to the… Evan doesn't want to know who was inside the fox; however, he got a pretty good idea about who was inside him. “And beat the shit out of you!” Evan heard the boy speaking again as Foxy dug its hook deeper into Fredbear’s chassis.
Evan threw a punch at Foxy's mouth. The fox was sent staggering backwards. The fox caressed his jaw, and his eyes locked onto the bear's eyes in a death glare.
“Who is he?” Elizabeth asked her father in a hushed whisper. She looked at the Foxy with bewildered eyes. “He is Andrew,” William said to his daughter.
“Why is he fighting Evan?” Elizabeth continued, looking at her brother desperately defending himself against the fox. “It's because he killed him,” William replied. Elizabeth took in a shuddering breath.
She didn't understand why her brother would want to do something heinous and violent. Like, how in bloody hell did a meek and weak little boy have the guts of a demon? It was hard to believe, but the signs were all there.
The guilty look on his face when Charlotte confessed their actions to her, among other things. That's why she came here; she wants to shake off the monster that her brother had become.
And now her brother was engaged in combat against another kid. A total stranger. Where did he come from? What did he like and what did he hate? Actually, Elizabeth does know why he was fighting Evan. It’s because Evan, for some reason, somehow killed Andrew.
Andrew threw a punch forward, and Evan dodged to the side. He seized the opportunity and caught his opponent by the arm. Evan surged forward and threw a punch at Foxy again, this time at the torso. Metal collided against metal, and the animatronic fox howled out in pain. Evan let go of the fox, seeing Foxy curling up and writhing in pain on the ground. He took in the noises the fox was making. It sounded like the fox… No, it sounds like the boy was crying out in pain.
The boy was in pain; William watched on with anticipatory fascination. He had trained Andrew, taught him how to cultivate his hate and forged it into a weapon. And a wounded beast should fight harder than anything.
Evan approached Andrew cautiously; William watched, and Elizabeth too was watching. Andrew's sobs died down, and the crimson light in Foxy's eyes started to fade. The room was silent, save for the boy's dying cries.
They died down to soft whimpers and pants. “Are you okay?” Evan asked in concern; he knew he did this. He was the reason why the boy was crying miserably on the ground. Pain, rage, and a dizzying combination of all sorts of negative emotions poured through him. It was agonizing; he could barely think. The boy was saddled with the weight of hate. The target of his hate had no shape or unreachable.
However….
Now the target of Andrew's hatred was given a shape, an identity. The boy with rags on his head is the enemy. Why did the boy do that? His guts throbbed painfully; the agony of the abuse he suffered, the searing pain in his head as Foxy caved in his eye socket and practically gouged his eye out, then his stomach was ripped open, causing his guts to spill out.
Andrew howled as a sphere of red mist rapidly emanated from Foxy; Bonnie and Chica's eyes flashed red, Evan tried reaching out to Freddy, Freddy responded and came to him. Evan hoped that Freddy could help him.
However, something red flashed in Freddy's eyes; sparks came flying from him as Evan felt a strong will clashing against his own. A string of bad memories invaded his mind. He still remembered them. The bullies, his brother, and the faces they wore.
At the same time, he also remembered the plush toys he held in his arms for comfort; he remembered the sweet memories of watching that show, that stupid TV show.
Memories, coming from the two extremes of the same spectrum, clashed against one another. He frankly doesn't want the fight to continue. He was just here to bring his sister back home. However, with how things turned out…
Would she even come back to him?
“Stop this.” Evan pleaded; he didn't want this fight to continue, if he was frank with himself. He had no idea why Andrew had to keep on fighting. How can you take revenge on someone who was already dead?
“Stop?” Andrew snapped, the word spat out of his lips like venom. “You killed me, caused so much pain, and now you want to stop!?” The boy yelled out in anger and disgust, his voice rising to a scream.
“Yes!” Evan shouted in return; he had no intention to fight; he was just here for his sister and nothing more than that!“Too bad, so sad,” was what Andrew seemed to convey, and then he was roughly shoved out of Freddy. The band he adored had once again become his enemies. The plea for peace was discarded like garbage in a garbage can.
The boy screamed as they lunged at him. He couldn't fight back against four opponents at once; they were animated by a strong, vengeful will, just like his.
As the four animatronics tore Fredbear up, William glanced at his daughter. “You see that, Elizabeth?” his hand was firm on her shoulder, and his voice commanded her to look at the sight. “This is what happens to bad kids like him.” The rabbit man continued, and then the girl nodded in agreement.
