Camera Angles. Three Parts of Insanity.
WARNING- Not full story or Chapter! This is only three paragraphs of Chapter 10. **** It had taken Phillip longer to get on the freeway to his
neighborhood than he had anticipated nor wanted, and sweat ran down his brow
briefly before he snagged a tissue from the glove box and swiped it away.
Now that the sun was beaming down in its morning brightness
onto the roof of his car, Foxy was out like an old tree log, and she was
utterly silent, still, and idle in a slumped lean on the window of the
passenger side, her jaw slacked open.
Even though he'd gotten the gist these creatures... Her
KIND, if that, weren't entirely robotic, he still found it immaculately odd
that small wheezes of sleep hissed from the inside of her throat.
In broad daylight, it gave the same effect onto her as
alcohol did to a drunken person knocked out on the side of the road, so the
animatronic wasn't going anywhere soon without his aid. Phillip sighed at that,
scratched his hair, and focused on the road.
"Well... I can't say this will be... Entirely
normal," He muttered, giving a brief rub of his palm on the fur of her
shoulder. "But it's safer than staying in the dump."
He gave a 'Figures' face for that statement.
Fragging killer mental patients.
Never a good thing when they weren't human on top of that
fact.
Phillip grumbled, suddenly aware of an elongated intake of
air from the back seat, and checking the rear-view mirror, he started with an
annoyed grunt as a widely splayed set of jaws opened back there.
The Mangle yawned much like a housecat would, except, she
ended it with a girlish '-eeEEEEEeeekkk!' as her mouth snapped shut with a
clang of metal, and her chops smacked a few times to confirm an end.
She looked about with a curious eye, a glint of playful
explorative desire in it to the interior of the car, so, naturally, instead of
doing what any logical being would do in a moving vehicle, with no recollection
of GETTING in said vehicle, she enacted opposite.
In fact, Phillip went so far as to say she pulled a... Well,
MANGLE.
The animatronic let her tongue droop out a bit as she
wrapped her pipe limbs about the edges of the right rear mirror, tapped and
slapped her digits about until locating the OPEN/CLOSE switch. She clicked it,
and a light, morning breeze hissed into the car from the fastness of the
highway.
"Mangle! Are you serious?" He wasn't sure whether
to be amused or annoyed as he snapped at her.
She said nothing, and stuck her head into the air outside,
her tongue swishing in the gravitational force, and her one good eye pressing
back into its socket. She held onto the rim of the ajar opening, and just
looked ahead with a big, splayed grin.
Nervously, he looked about the highway around him, and noted
that there was only one car driving behind them, too the left inner lane.
Nobody would see if he let the little weirdy get some air.
Whatever, it worked for him.
He sniggered and kept vision on the road, noting exit 89
passing by, only two more lay between it and his turn.
That was some comfort then, so he really didn't notice when
the Mangle's head had jerked to stare at the sky above, and her tentacles began
to swing about outside the window. There was a thud in the passenger rear of
the car, and he checked the view in his mirror, and shrugged...
Then his eyes darted back wildly.
Oh yes, somebody would indeed see THAT.
"M-Mangle! MANGLE! Stop it, get in here! NOW!"
There was a dulled 'Weeeeeeee!' above his head as the only
thing that remained inside the passenger area was two feet-capped pipes that
draped over the seats, the rest of the Mangle had vanished to angle at the top
of his car.
Bravely, Phillip took a last look around his Ford, grunted,
and reached behind the seat.
Her car-surfing ended with a cut off, dramatic shriek, and
Phillip snatched hold of the two pipes, and tugged the animatronic from the
roof of his ride.
There was a clank, and tumbling metal contact, and the
yelping Mangle rolled and flailed back into her seat with a series of clacks
and loud reports. She stood there, quiet, and sniffed at the window as it shut
via his front-seat control.
"Are you INSANE?!" He barked. "What if
someone SAW YOU?! What would you do? HUH?!"
She cocked her head at him, sniffed the air, and waved to
her human friend with one of her hand-caped pipes.
"Me would wave!"
"Ugh... I forgot... You ARE insane... How stupid of
me."
"Philly?"
"What?"
"Can I turn dial?"
He glanced as she leaned on the cupholders that divided the
two front seats, and reached excitedly to the tuning wheel on the radio
console.
"You listen to music?"
Mangle gasped dramatically.
"ME WUVVS MUSIC!!"
"Alright... Knock yourself out..."
She looked at him funny, then the radio, sniffed, and
grabbed hold of something behind his seat.
He went slack jawed, turned away from his driving briefly to
gape in complete awe as the Mangle reared back with the fixing jack he forgot
to lock back in his trunk, towards her own head.
"N-NO!" He snatched it from her quickly, grumbled,
and laid it by his legs. "That means, you can use the God-damned radio!
Not BASH YOUR CIRCUITS OUT!!"
"YAY!"
The radio coughed static and garbled conglomerates of
cut-off lyrics and words as the Mangle twisted the dial with an astonished
expression of wonder. He bit his lip and snarled.
"What this?"
She left a station on that was playing Green Day.
For awhile, she sat there, staring at the thing as lyrics of
the lonely road echoed about.
"-Philly? Why does he walk alone?"
"Its just the lyrics, Mangle..."
"But being alone is stupid!"
He shrugged as response.
The Mangle chattered incomprehensibly, and twisted the dial
once more.
She stopped at a station with America singing a Horse with
No Name.
"But the horsey has to have name!"
"Well it doesn't here-"
"MADNESS!" The Mangle shrieked defiantly.
"-Horsey has to have name!"
"Tell that to the group, not me..."
There was a thud as the Mangle flicked the radio with one of
her feet.
"Name the horsey Bill Jenkins."
"Mangle its not that big of a deal-"
"But what if they meet Policeman! And they have
identificationz and the horsey don't?"
"That's just..." He chuckled. "-I dunno,
that's just funny."
"Well me has nickel!" A clink of metallic
disturbance, and she gestured the coin that she STILL had from the whole
driveway fiasco, at the radio, and pushed the dial to silence the song.
"-Pay your own toll, horsey meanies!"
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What was surprising about the entire trip, was that after
the near trainwreck, Mangle was actually calm and collected, and Foxy just...
Sat there and looked pretty. You know, pretty unconscious.
Phillip Linn had never felt this comfortable around things
he didn't know before, especially with such adjacent space between them and
him. It was odd, kind of freaky, but after a mere week, Foxy had now grown on
him with the fact she was just a troubled creature looking for someone to at
least talk too.
At first their relationship had been one of interest, she
found want in chatting with the only human in her lifecycle she could have full
hours of conversations with, and he was intrigued with a talking robotic
creature.
Simple.
Then of course, Foxy's absence from such gifts excelled her
growing desire to expand on just being acquaintances.
Phillip couldn't even touch her fur without getting a little
buggy.
Yet it was clear the animatronic had a thing for him that
even SHE couldn't shake off.
Whatever that THING
was, Phillip felt himself feeling horrible for being a tad... Repulsed. As nasty
and cruel as that word sounded for basically rejecting someone, especially
someone that was experiencing such a rough life, it was the only he could think
of.
He knew it was wrong to look at that way, but how else was
he supposed to react? She was a living, breathing and talking robotic
contraption in a children's pizzeria? Kind of awkward to just go along with it
as a normal human being.
What's that my furry, partially mechanical, dusty smelling
automated friend? You think I'm hot? I think your hot too!
Not exactly acceptable on modern day Earth.
Phil actually was grumbling beneath his own breath when the
Ford bucked from his brake and fixture to PARK.
His daylights brightened the white paint of his garage door
briefly, they went dark when the key slipped from the ignition in his clenched
palm. Sighing, he looked behind him to see the Mangle preoccupied with burying
her face behind the passenger seats towards the trunk.
"What are you doing?" He asked tiredly, rubbing
his temple.
"'E ike cottn
nandy!"
"The heck-?"
Phillip swung his
door open, not minding when Foxy jolted awake with a startled, exacerbated
gasp, and catapulted himself to the side of his car. The passenger side was
yanked ajar, and before the security guard could even snap for the animatronic
too stop, his mouth just jerked to stillness, and his brow twitched.
The same loose flap of leather that had been torn behind the
leftwards passenger seat, many months ago from when he lifted a recently
purchase lawn weedwhacker from the trunk, the dude at Home Depot forgot to
mention it still had batteries.
So, Phillip pressed the button dumbly, screamed like a woman
when it buzzed in his car, and threw it onto the lawn as it powered down.
The damage had already been done, so, Mangle made it worse. Of
course.
He just bit his tongue when Mangle's head jerked away from
the tear, a quite noticeable bulge clamped within her mouth, and her one eye
wide like a platter.
"Iiiii iLLLLYYY!"
She muffled.
Phillip looked between her and the absent puff of foam-interior
from the bitemark torn into the seat, the prior weedwhacker damage peeled away
by eager Mangle-teeth.
The Ford shuffled as Foxy clambered from the front seat to
open the door.
Phillip stared at the smiling Mangle with an emotionless
expression, and held his hand out for her to spit it out.
His fingers flexed in his direction when she sniffed at them
dully.
"What that for, Philly?" She giggled.
Again, seeing the bulge absent from her chops and...
Anywhere else, told him all he needed to know about the deranged animatronic's
consumption abilities.
All he could muster was a quick twitch of his eye. Nothing
more.
"Foxy? You alright?"
Phillip lost all conception of the fact his car was slowly
being mangled by a freakshow with the same name, and hurried over to the front
door of the Ford, where the tall, furred vulpine creature stood, eyes locked to
the front of the house.
Foxy rocked a bit in her stand, shook the car as the
daylight sucked her energy away, and forced her to balance on the doorframe
briefly.
Phil hurried over, and slung her hook-baring arm over
himself again.
"-P-Phillip-?!" She squeaked.
"Hold on there, wobbles, let me help you..."
Foxy said nothing, hissed as the light bore on her from her
helped trots beneath the overhang of his porch.
The second the rays of the sun weren't touching her, she
quaked oddly, in a quivering sort, and snaked away from the human with a slip
of motion, reforming that urge to enwrap her chest with her arms. Foxy kept her
gaze to the floor as he retrieved Mangle from the backseat, came back to the
porch with said weirdy over his shoulders, and put his front key to work.
"Phillip..." Foxy muttered. "-I'm like...
Really..." She huffed.
"Don't worry pals-o mine, I'll close the shades and
everyt-"
"Phil!"
He yipped, the key clattered to the wooden floor, and the
Mangle had a wide eye peek over his hairline again.
"Holy frag! Why are you yelling?"
"Phillip I'm... I'm really overwhelmed right
now..."
He scratched his head, picked the key up and unlocked the
front door.
"I've NEVER been outside... I've never had a friend too
INVITE me in their HOME..."
"Well then I guess I'm the first!" He arched the
door open, looked around his mostly woodland-block to make sure no one was
active in the area, and gestured for her to enter after him.
Foxy watched him like he was crazy, and the Mangle flew
inside the house with a triumphant cry. The chandelier in Phillip's dining room
squeaked noisily whilst it was used as a swing.
Shaking his head, he waved her inside.
Foxy couldn't move when he did that, or when he stepped back
out to take hold of her paw again.
The sudden contact he had kept initiating was one of a
puzzle here, a puzzle that would combine into the basic panic-attack she was
getting at the moment.
Twenty some-odd years of being alone, never communicating
largely with any others than those she hated and likewise, fighting evenly
strong monsters in turn, sitting in silence and dark in a dusty, forgotten
Cove...
All that ended with the sudden appearance of this stupid
little human.
She now had someone to talk with, laugh with, understand
things from and debate. He helped her fight the evils, offered assistance
during the dreadful nights and finally, gave her sanctuary in his home.
Yet to display such gratitude, Foxy only garbled
unintelligently, allowed her facial features to hue terribly, and stepped
inside the doorway quickly and wordlessly, her paw draping away from the young
man.
Seeing the current situation, he wasn't offended, he just
nodded, grinned and followed to close the door behind himself.
In fact, he'd have been worried if she DIDN'T react that
way.
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"She left, you say?"
"Mmmhmm. Up with that meatbag, got in his little driver
and-VROOM! Gone! Gone..."
"Interesting. You see this is why I like the human, yes?"
The response was no less a dismissive wave of a paw than any
other solution, surely, because insanity drowned him and everything he touched
every waking moment of existence, but also, because that insanity worked
through the cracks of chance.
Who was anyone but HE too call himself crazy? Anyone still
alive? Quite few.
That only meant that he succeeded with insanity at his beck
and call, with madness ready to lash out and consume his foes on his command.
Freddy was always out of his mind, he preferred it that way,
never hadn't. The world was a giant tinderbox in the grand scheme, there was so
much mystery, confusion and disagreement, that fires were something to brew
over years and erupt in a storm in a brief second.
All it took was a maniac to light the fuse, and by the end
of the arson, the maniac usually left more scarred by only HIS own hand
alone... If the cards were dealt to the right sides of the table.
However, no amount of material, no promises other than
chances for carnage, could win over the lesser of his kind. For certainly,
Chica was a freak, an unstable packdog that despite the childish deception, was
capable of atrocity, was willing to put those capabilities in use for his word.
She just gawked a minute, her multiple sets of jaws within
her fake, plastic beak splayed in silent shock.
"B-But the human IS meat! He is prey! PREY!"
"No doubt to such, my girl," Freddy grumbled.
"This is why I LIKE him, I appreciate his ability to cloud our foe's mind,
hmm? Look at it in a higher perspective, chance this with me..."
Stepping away from the darkened stage, Freddy's feet thudded
the ground in a rumble only a massive beast could make, he waved his arm in the
direction of the hall to the Cove. Chica kept an eye on him, minding to give
glances to the hunched shadow in the back of the stage too.
"Foxy! Darling lass, once as prim as the gears
come," He smiled. "Just as strong as you, me, faster than us and just
as so... To ole' 'B..."
Freddy's paw fell a digit to each of them in turn with his
words, he waved blandly to the ball of
darkness scrunched up in the stage's back, upper level, snickered when it
pulsed in a heavy grunt.
"Foxy, the one animatronic to resist, to remain
PEACEFUL to the people here, will now be undone by one of those people."
Chica garbled, her eye-lids gave a repeated spasm.
"I can't WAIT to taste the blood... Really. I can't....
"
Freddy actually deflated inaudibly with knowing, he grunted
to Chica's lack of comprehension, angled his chin to the stage again.
"Alright, 'B... At least keep YOUR head on its
sprockets for this escapade, Hmmm?"
"Blood is blood," The misted response came dreary
from the shadows as Bonnie nodded briefly to the quaking asylum captive.
"-I'll spill it when I think I can."
"That's all I needed to hear!" Freddy clapped his
paws. "See? Self control is the lady tonight. It can be every night, if we
finally END this."
"If we can kill her, we'll kill her," Bonnie
snapped, the sound of a clanging wrench echoing. "That isn't the
definitive outcome here, butchering the guard IS."
Freddy frowned, lacked comment when Bonnie readjusted his
jaw, and threw a small toolbox back to its place somewhere among all the
instruments up there.
Tapping his hip with drumming claws, the bear tried to push
a button, for kicks.
"What say you with the guard? Anxious for everyday
cattle?"
"If YOU could control this frigging bloodlust the FREAK
has been petrified with, you'd understand."
"Chica, go... Somewhere else..." Freddy grinned to
realize he had just dismissed air, angled a brow at the ajar door into the
kitchens, and stepped to the foot of the stage.
"Alright, bloodlust. That's your reason?"
"I said my fact, not how you could see it..."
"I'll take it for now. Don't stress, 'B."
"Stress? For the pile? Just dumb, Fredd... That's a
stupid thing to say."
"Facts can be perceived STUPID by many... Especially
when they're shit out of a venomous orifice."
Bonnie straightened himself back there, angled to stare with
beaming, white-glowing eyes to the bear. He looked utterly hateful, and Freddy mentally
cackled to the taste of this delicious little game he was torturing the rabbit
with.
It was actually disappointing that Bonnie was learning,
because this time, he didn't bite like he had before.
Nay, the purple killer just smiled with his newly fixed
jaws.
"Get a dictionary from the janitor closet you bow-tied
little bitch." He chuckled.
Freddy's teething grimace faded for a masque of a devilish
grin.
Bare your teeth to it... The teeth take the brunt of the
tide here, it allowed self-control, it allowed him to buy time, and end all
around him.
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