Chapter Text
“I’m sorry. None of this was supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to die.” a sorrowful beast whispers under the cover of the night. The only surroundings covering his body are trees and the cloak of night.
Positioned in front of them are 18 tombstones. 3 beautifully decorated stones placed within inches of the others stood directly in front of him. One grown woman, and two children on either side of her. 2 more equally as beautiful stones are directly behind them, one stone is deeply overgrown and the other is more taken care of and clean. Two more children. Another 4 are directly behind the two, more spaced out and less elaborate, just simple stones. Four more children. 5 more stones are placed behind those. Two teenagers and three children. The stone of a beloved Dog is to the far right of the teenager’s stones. But finally at the very back shaded from the other stones is a final teen.
One adult,
Three teenagers,
One dog, and
Thirteen children.
18 untimely deaths.
“I hope you can hear me, yet I also hope you can’t but, I’m sorry. I hope you’ve passed on at this point, all of you deserve the relief.” the man sighs, choking back tears from behind a facemask.
“They can’t hear you.” A voice whispers from the far left deeper into the woods.
“What?-” they start turning to face the direction the voice came from.
“The fire worked…” pause “Mostly.”
“What do you mean mostly?” the man gasps, their breath hitching in the back of their throat.
“Afton is in hell, but so are the others. The One He Should Not Have Killed is keeping him there with the help of Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy. Nobody could find Puppet, and Fredbear’s second soul is trying to stop The One He Should Not Have Killed. Your friends and mother have passed on through. Like Puppet ScrapBaby can’t be found at the moment.” the voice replies seemingly closer than before.
“Oh, who are you? I don’t remember you.” the tall figure asks pink eyes glistening in the moonlight.
“I am Mangle. Well, one of Mangle. The Dog was the one that bit that man in 87.” Mangle replies, seemingly back at their original location.
“Well, Mangle. I’m Mike Young, do you have a physical form?” Mike asks, leaning their back against a tree trunk.
“I do.” Mangle breathes “Why?” They ask finally after a few moments of simple consideration.
“I live in a house a town over, I’ve got an extra bedroom if you would like to join me.” Mike smiles, his smile contouring the crude scars that reached into his cheeks from the corners of their lips.
“You wouldn’t mind?” Mike shakes his head, a slight smile still found on his face. “Okay,” Mangle replies, stepping into the light that shone from the moon through the trees.
They looked about 14 years old, with dirty blond hair and dark green eyes complemented by a pair of thin gold frame glasses. Along with a stud piercing adjourning the left side of their lower lip. Their hair was shoulder length at the longest and pulled into a short ponytail in the very back. As for clothes, they wore a simple faded blue and green striped shirt, paired with denim jeans and a leather jacket.
“Did you know any of the other souls while you were alive?” Mike asks as he and Mangle start walking out of the abandoned forest clearing.
“Chica was my friend’s little sister, ScarpBaby and Puppet were my age, but I didn’t really hang out with them. Their brother was a bully and one of his friends bullied me to the point of almost killing myself. I can’t remember if I did kill myself or if Afton killed me. Well, I guess I knew Toy Chica a little bit. He’s Chica’s older brother, one of Puppet and ScrapBaby’s older brother’s friends, he was the nicest in the group. Toy Bonnie was Bonnie’s older brother, he was also friends with the older brother. I Didn’t know any of the others.” Mangle pauses, both figures absorbing the silence and nature surrounding them, “What about you Mr. Young, did you know any of the souls?”
“ Mike is just fine, and yes I knew most of them, but I don’t know what animatronic each soul possesses. Other than Bonnie, Chica, ScarpBaby, Toy Bonnie, and Toy Chica I think. To what you’ve said, Bonnie is Jeremy Parker, Chica is Suzie Johnsan, Toy Bonnie is Mark Parker, and Toy Chica is Cameron Johnson.” Mike replied with a shrug, slowing down slightly as the sound of moving cars grew closer.
“What about ScarpBaby?” Mangle asks looking up and Mike curiously.
“Oh, right. She’s Elizabeth Afton.” Mike states his eyes glossing over slightly as he says her name.
“Yeah, the old guy he, called her Elizabeth,” Mangle replies seemingly remembering more about the other souls, and when he was alive. “His big speech was wrong.” Mangled added after a few minutes of calming silence.
“How so?” Mike shoots Mangle a somewhat concerned face before continuing down the side of the road.
“He said that Charlie lifted us up into her arms or whatever. He said that Charlie gave us a second life. She didn’t, the boy from 83 did. He is Puppet. Charlie keeps Goldie in check, not C.C.” Mangle states pushing their glasses back up their nose.
“C.C.? I don’t remember anybody named C.C. Does it stand for something?” Mike whispers he knew full well who “C.C. was, but they just refused to accept it. Mangle looks over at him in confusion.
“C.C? It’s Crying Child, because when he found Charlie the Puppet got tears. Goldie calls him BV sometimes. It stands for Bite Victim. He somehow remembered the name Norman though so we also call him that sometimes!” Mangle replies happily before stopping next to Mike on the side of the road.
“I-I remember him now. His brother’s middle was Norman, he wasn’t a very nice brother so that is probably why he remembers it.” Mike pulls open the passenger side car door and ushers Mangle in before climbing into the driver seat.
“I can’t remember my name. I remember the others, just not my name.” Mangle whispers as they pull the seat belt over their body. Wincing slightly as it tightens around their chest.
“Oh Mangle, before we get to the house you need to know I’ve got a kid, around your age. He’s not like the boys you probably knew growing up. He’s chaotic, to say the least, and he’ll probably use words you don’t understand.” Mike explains pulling onto the main road, the headlights of other cars and street lamps being the only light for miles, other than small pinpricks of stars scattered across the sky.