Hello!
I can't tell you how good it feels to be getting a chapter out only about a month after the last update, instead of, you know, four 😅. But for any who were concerned after my last authors note, I can say I am doing a bit better than I was, a fact I'm both grateful for and still getting used to. I had a surgery at the beginning of this month, which took me down for about two weeks to recover from, but I can say it was well worth it, as I'm already seeing improvements in my health. Just trying to take it all one step at a time, even when bad days still arise.
If anything, it gave me plenty of time to work on this chapter and get it to a place where I'm happy with it. Only two more chapters left in Act 1!
Also, it was my birthday earlier this past week! Gemini season has begun! :D
Credit for the OC Chrysanthemum headshot goes to wwispie on Etsy/Instagram!
Ao3: Petals on a Stream of Stars
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Act 1, Chapter 13: Once Lost, Now Found
Wednesday
7:45pm
Chrysanthemum
Outside the walls of the daycare, the low lighting grew dense and heavy, lit only by harsh emergency lighting. Everywhere stood masses of confused patrons, huddled in groups of various sizes in shops or along corners. Somewhere, Chrys heard a mechanical voice stick out amidst the chaos, dissonant against the flow of human ones flooding the air. She dashed forward, following the direction of the sound. A human staff member may not be able to contact an animatronic, but perhaps a robotic one might.
Just a ways ahead, she found the source of the voice; A single staff bot currently attempting—and failing—to corral a large family into remaining still enough to be scanned. While expressionless, Chrys could swear she heard exasperation in the bot’s monotone voice.
“Guests, please remain in place. Scanning will commence—GUESTS. Please remain in place. Scanning will commence—GUESTS. Please remain in—”
“Hey!” Every face in the vicinity turned to look at her. She disregarded those that were human and spoke only to the staff bot. “Are you able to get a message to an animatronic? It’s urgent.”
Head cocked, her request was met with a blank stare. A red laser pinprick lit up the center of its oval iris, washing over her.
“Employee designation recognized. Request granted. What is your message and intended recipient?”
The family huffed from behind the bot, but she refused to let them distract her from her goal. If they wanted this to be over sooner, they should have been more patient and cooperative in the first place.
“Uh, for Sun.”
“Sun is off-line. Choose available recipient.”
“Wait, what?” The bot’s response made her pause. “But I literally just saw him a couple of minutes ago.”
“Sun is off-line. Choose available recipient.”
“Oook then… uh, what about Moon? Is he available?”
The bot remained silent for a moment before answering, the sound of a fan revving signifying his inner query. “Affirmative.”
“Great!” She pumped her fist. “Then, uh, tell him he needs to go to Kids Cove as soon as possible. I have reason to believe that’s where Marigold’s gone. You know, the missing kid.”
The staff bot bobbed its head before returning to duty. “Received. Message sent.”
“Great, thank you!”
Hopefully he gets there quickly…
Task completed, she let her feet lead the way back, letting the frustrated bot return to his unenviable duty. Though with each step, her assurance wavered. A peculiar knot still remained lodged in her chest, weighing on her. But why? She came to a halt when a flash of pain shot through the inside of her cheek, catching up to her that she’d been chewing at it without realizing it.
This didn’t make sense. She’d done what she sought out to do; Give someone better suited to help Marigold in this situation an advantage, point them in the right direction. That’s all that she could do, right?
So why did she feel so dissatisfied?
A single thought repeatedly clawed to the surface, eating away at what was left of her confidence. What if… what if she was wrong? What if her deductions meant nothing, and she was pulling help further away from where it really needed to be? Should she have thought to check it out herself first, and called for help later? Was she just wasting everyone’s time, sending them on a wild goose chase?
She groaned, the butts of her palms shoved to her eyes as she spun in place. She didn’t think this through! Stupid, so, so stupid! If she’d bungled this she’d feel like the worst sort of person—a detriment, with the audacity to burden others with her incompetence.
Looking out from beyond her hands, she found herself standing in the space between the front gate of the Daycare and the path which led to the elevator. The realization dawned on her that this would have been the most likely path for the party to have followed upon returning to the Daycare. What were the odds that this was where Marigold had run off?
While things weren’t crystal clear, her eyes had had enough time to adjust to the dim space that she could make out some of the graphics and advertisements around her, scanning for anything that might have caught a child’s eye. A cut-out for Roxy Raceway, a poster of Freddy singing, and—there! Protruding from a wall, a mounted arrow sign, pointing down a conjoining hallway, with the words “Kids Cove” written at its center, surrounded by what looked to be an image of palm trees.
Bingo!
Her body took off of its own volition, and soon the slap of her sneakers joined the cacophony of the crowd as she jogged, deftly avoiding wayward packs of confused and irate people until she reached her destination; A wide open and decorated archway that once would have made for a inviting display, now cordoned off by an array of wooden crates, opaque sheets of plastic and caution tape, with two signs bookending the haphazard mess of clutter. Flashlight in hand, Chrys drew close, using the light to read the message.
“Kids Cove.” She breathed. “Closed for renovations. Do not enter without special authorization. Fazbear Entertainment will not be held liable for any harm received past this point. Well,” she sighed, craning to try and look beyond the blockages. “Trying to find a lost kid counts as special authorization, right? Right. Of course it does.”
After a minute of examining the area, she discovered a small opening between the sides of two crates, just large enough for her to squeeze through if she dropped to her belly and shimmied on her side.
“Guess I know how she would’ve gotten in…”
From the floor, nothing but a void greeted her beyond the crates. No light, no glow, only an inky abyss, one that even her flashlight couldn’t overpower, at least not from this angle. Positioning herself down to an army crawl, she ignored any dust her movement kicked up, though they made her nose sniffle, and inched her way through. Once she could stick her top half out on the other side, a quick look confirmed her suspicions; No emergency lighting present, not like the rest of the building. The air felt oppressive against her skin, tickling the hair on the back of her neck. If Marigold managed to make it in this far before the lights went out, there’d have been no way for her to have found her way back out again on her own.
“Marigold?” She called, pulling herself to her feet and stepping carefully into the dark, the flashlight acting as her anchor and her guide, lighting her way past the abstract and colorful shapes partially revealed within the minuscule circle of light.
With a bit of examination, the abstract shapes revealed themselves to be different kinds of playground equipment. Jungle gyms, slides, swings, all in various shades of underwater or muted jewel tones, with most still in some incomplete form of assembly. She had to hand it to those two attendants. For as infuriating as they were, it appeared as if they knew at least a little of what they talked about.
The further in she went, the more apparent it was how secluded this section of the pizzaplex was from the rest of the building. None of the fanfare from the guests outside could make it this far, making every sound more pronounced within the silence. Her footsteps, her breathing. Though she was here with good intentions, she couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps this wasn’t the wisest of decisions. Ignoring the goosebumps which prickled across her arms, she pressed on, reminding herself that she was an adult, and there was a kid in need right now. It was her responsibility to keep herself under control.
“Marigold?” She called out again, her voice bouncing throughout the room. “Marigold, can you hear me?”
Waiting for the last of her echoes to fade, she held her breath, hoping to better catch even the softest of sounds.
“… Miss Chrys?”
She whipped to the side with a sharp gasp, flashlight darting to try and locate its source.
“Marigold?” Chrys repeated, hesitant to trust in what she heard as the real deal and not just a figment of her imagination.
“Miss Chrys!”
“Marigold!!!”
Certain now without the shadow of a doubt, Chrys rushed ahead, narrowly avoiding the scattered pieces of unfinished playground equipment littering the floor.
“Where are you? Are you hurt? Don’t worry, I’m—AHHH!”
Her words switched to a shout as the floor disappeared out from under her, stomach lurching as she sprawled forward, arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to cushion her fall. Her flashlight flew from her grasp, the beam darting about in erratic streaks, before going out with a bang and a crackle, leaving her blind in the dark as she hit the ground.
“Miss Chrys!!!”
Marigold’s terrified voice shrieked in her ear, closer than ever before, adding to her disorientation. Her knees and elbows smarted, having taken the majority of her weight in the fall, and her shoulder ached, but overall, that seemed to be the worst of it. The fall must not have been that bad, though to Chrys it felt like she fell a good couple of feet, at least.
“Miss Chrys, are you ok???”
Reminded of the present by a pair of tiny hands yanking and tugging at her shirt, Chrys shook herself from her daze and did her best to focus.
“Marigold, is that you? Oh, I’m so glad to—oof!”
“I’m sorry!!” The girl launched herself at her so hard she pushed the air from her lungs, and clung to her as if she were a lifeline. “I thought big brother would be here, his office is here, he’s always working! But then it was all blocked off, and I wasn’t sure if I should look behind it, but I wanted to find him so I tried, but then there was nobody, and, and then, then the lights went out, and I didn’t know how to get back, and I tripped and fell and now my ankle hurts and… and… WAHHHHHH!!!!”
The girl spoke in a single, fluid torrent, her words a bleeding mess of incoherent emotions and distress. Her tears broke into full bodied sobs, her breathing disjointed by deep gasps of air.
“Hey, hey!” Chrys sat up, scooping the wailing child into her arms. “It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe, that’s all that matters. Everything’s ok, shhhhh…”
She rocked in place, patting gently along the child’s back in a soothing motion, keeping her little murmurs of reassurance soft and calm and steady.
“There you go, that’s it,” Chrys said, sensing her efforts were taking effect. “Take a deep breath for me. In—” She demonstrated the motion first, pleased when Marigold imitated. “And out. Good, good.”
The poor thing sat on her lap tucked in the fetal position, head nestled up under Chrys’s chin. She hiccupped and sniffled as her tears ebbed, snuggling in as close as she could.
“Marigold,” Chrys asked, pausing to consider her words before continuing. “What’s going on, why did you run off? We were all so worried.”
The girl coughed, the sound heavy with mucus, and curled even further inward. “… he promised.”
“Promised? Promised what?”
Silence hung heavy in the air around them, until after another wet cough, Marigold continued. “Big Brother promised he’d celebrate my birthday with me. But… everything’s been so bad lately. Since Grandpa didn’t wake up, all Mama and Papa do is shout and yell and cry, and Big Brother is never home anymore! I just… I just wanted everyone to smile again, like when mama and I first moved in… he promised!!!
The wails started anew, face pressed into her chest, the tears soaking through the already wet fabric as she worked herself up again. Chrys winced alongside each of her pain-filled cries but remained silent, giving her the space to release all the pent up grief and confusion bottled up inside. She knew how it was to be so overwhelmed that you couldn’t think straight. Wrapping her arms fully around her shaking frame, she held the girl close, cheek pressed to the top of her head, rocking gently back and forth. Words wouldn’t help here. Just presence and kindness. To know it was alright to cry, to know you were safe while you let it all out, give voice to the ache that refused to leave.
To know you weren’t alone.
A memory appeared in her mind then, foggy, but there, of her mother holding her in a similar position soon after her Dad had died. Oh, how she’d cried and cried, inconsolable, but her mother had let her, holding her tight as the soft melody she sang soothed her frazzled nerves…
“When the Sun sets…”
The same song found purchase in her own throat now, vying for space amidst the child’s cries. Chrys sang just above a whisper, a purposeful breathiness intermingling with each note.
“And the Moon rises…”
Marigold shifted, turning so as the side of her face rested against Chrys’s chest, where her heartbeat was strongest. Chrys ran a gentle hand over her head, caressing the soft curls.
“The stars will dance for you. As the petals blow, from the trees embrace, carrying away your light. And there I’ll go, to the waters edge, to sing with you again….”
Marigold’s breathing settled as the last note faded, the music having won against the sorrow. The empty air around them no longer carried a sense of unease, but rather that of a comforting shield, protecting them in an otherworldly cocoon of peace and quiet.
“What… what song is that?” Marigold’s tiny voice asked, her sniffle the loudest.
“Just… a lullaby my mother taught me. It always used to help me whenever my heart hurt. Maybe it can help yours too.”
Though she didn’t reply, Marigold seemed content with her answer, snuggling in closer and twirling a lock of hair as they sat together in comfortable silence. They should start trying to find their way back soon, Chrys knew, alleviate everyone’s worry and return to enjoying the rest of the party, but… she couldn’t find it within herself to move the exhausted girl quite yet. Poor thing could use an extra minute or two.
Though, despite her wishes, fate seemed to have a different plan. A sharp clang, thin and metallic, rang out from the darkness, shattering their illusion of solitude. Marigold gasped and stiffened. Chrys remained silent, listening.
“Monster…” Marigold whispered, in the tiniest of voices. She trembled, attempting to back further into the safety of her arms. Chrys adjusted, using a free hand to wipe the wet strands of hair out of Marigold’s tear-soaked face.
“It’s ok,” Chrys replied, reassuring. “Maybe something fell, or…” In the distance, a soft tinkling sound resounded through the void, active, and growing closer by the millisecond. It took Chrys a split-second to realize what it was.
“Bells… they’re bells! Oh, thank goodness. Marigold, it’s alright, that’s no monster, that’s just Mr.—”
“No!” Marigold screeched, fighting against her “No, no! Monster, monster!!”
Tugging against her hold, her behavior grew more frantic by the second, forcing Chrys to struggle in order to keep Marigold still. If she slipped up and let her run off into the dark like this, she could only imagine how badly she could get hurt. She had to figure out a way to get her to calm down before things got out of hand.
Wait, the flashlight! Of course!
Everything always seemed scarier in the dark; it’s why night-lights were staples in childhood bedrooms. Marigold just needed to see that there was nothing to fear! Deciding to try, Chrys switched her hold to a single arm, just long enough to snatch the tool from the ground and smash the defiant button, hoping to make the stubborn thing work through sheer force of will alone.
“Come on, come on!”
The jingles grew louder, only to stop just before they would have reached them, the lack of noise louder than the sound itself. A red glow began to break through the darkness surrounding them, illuminating the dark shapes around them bit by bit. Marigold exploded the second she noticed, kicking and clawing as if her life depended on it, her tiny nails digging into Chrys’s arm hard enough that she could feel the sharp pricks of pain and warm wetness bloom across her skin. Dropping the flashlight, Chrys abandoned her previous plan and focused solely on restraining Marigold, certain now that she would inevitably harm herself in such a state.
“Marigold, stop! It’s alright! Relax! There’s no monster, I promise! You have to calm down!”
A sharp “crunch” from the side interrupted her just then, followed immediately by an eruption of light which split the space between, blinding as her pupils constricted.
Blinking against the pain, snippets of vision registered as her eyes adjusted. Blue fabric against yellow stars. Grey and blue endoskeleton. A sleeping cap more hood than cap draped over thin shoulders. And a silvery, crescent moon face, framing blood red, glowing eyes, the very same which had stared down at her while she lay on a concrete floor.
Marigold screamed.
