Infestation Of Despair

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height





Once he punched the code in again, the wall silently glided, isolating its passageway from the rest of the world.

     He kept an eye out for the cryptid on the way back to his office. With any luck, he'd catch a glimpse on the cameras, track him down...but that didn't seem like an effective way to find and lure the kid closer to his suit.

     Thomas peered over his shoulder.

     Nothing. He could've sworn a black spot was on the wall.

     How come Patton didn't trust him anymore? Why now? What did he do wrong? Was it because of—

"Working overtime?"

     He swiveled to the voice. A woman with the pizzeria's uniform observed him from the kitchen's open doorway. The hell was she doing at 5 am?

"What...why're you here?"

     The latter stared at him. "I work here." She gestured to her name tag, illustrating how obvious the answer should've been.

     His ears flushed warm from embarrassment. Okay, so there's a new guard. Not great. Who allowed this?!

     Thomas walked past her, strolling into the sunrise touched dinning room, then caught sight of the wall clock by the ordering line.

6:11 am

     And stopped dead in his tracks.

"I thought we'd have robots today." The coworker came up to his side, visibly bothered by their absence. "They didn't all get locked up, right?"

     Oh no.

     A rigorous pulse drummed from within. Quick. Quickening.

"Uhhhh...."

"Sir—"

     He sprinted off.

     At the hallway's turn, he failed to slam on the breaks.

     Someone's forehead thwacked against his chin. A blur shot to the ground, and his feet hobbled sideways to avoid trampling on the smaller body. Books and papers nosedived.

"Ow—oh my god!"

Instant regret. This was exactly why day guards didn't allow kids to run wild indoors.

     He offered a hand to the victim. "I'm so sorry, are you ok?"

"Ya...knocked the fuckin' breath outta me." The high school boy winced as he got up by himself. "But 'sides that, I'm fine."

     Thomas glanced franticly at the mess he created, then to the end of the corridor. He began to shuffle papers haphazardly together, trying to quicken the cleaning process.

"Dude, you're—" His coworker waved for him to leave. "I got this."

"Again, sorry!"

     The guard hustled at a slower pace.

     He made it halfway down the basement stairs, lungs winded from another sudden stop. Four smiling faces turned in his direction, indifferent or confused about his unexpected return.

"Everyone act like they're being remote-controlled." The man tried to not sound out of breath. "It's past 6."

     Concerned, but obedient nods responded.

"It's best if you stay here for now." He trudged down and picked up a remote from the table, muscles tense with every step taken closer to the intellectual robot. He gave out the next order through clenched teeth. "Deactivated."

     Sapphire eyes returned the cold glare.

"I can pretend, I've done it before—"

"Listen..." Goosebumps pricked his neck, those stares from the rest wouldn't leave him alone. He attempted to tunnel vision his focus on the animatronic standing before him. "You were put here deactivated, so it's best to leave it at that. For now."

"I wonder how long that will be." Logan retorted.

Thomas lifted the remote in an iron grip, unable to brush aside a corrupt weight overcoming him. The robot's emotionless gaze magnified its uncomfortable feeling.

Not another word uttered between them as Logan promptly sat down against the wall. A quavery thumb pressed a red button, and the latter's head slumped forward. Back turned to every one else, Thomas headed up the stairs and spoke gravely.

"The rest of you—follow me, get to your stages. And music box."

     He got weird looks from the day staff. While the kids acted like robot toys on a set mission to get to their respective places, Thomas assured everyone this was normal and in their range of ability. Even went as far to explain 'These guys needed a second inspection, and I procrastinated on bringing them back up.' Aside from remarks about his 'laziness', almost everyone looked convinced.

"They have a mind of their own, eh?" The woman from earlier joked, she looked at Logan's remote in his hand. "You control all of them with that?"

"Yeah—" The guard spun up a lie from the top of his head. "—there's a setting where you can control multiple. In case one goes missing. And uh, they're advanced AI, they're supposed to be believable. 'Scuse me, I gotta pick up my stuff."

     The guard moved around his coworker. He traveled back down the hallway, at a walking pace for the sake of not drawing attention.

     Nothing was at the locked closet.

His stomach dropped.

Thomas rushed to the dead end, hoping for some trick of light to go away. He couldn't possibly misplace it...he didn't misplace it! It was here a while ago!

    


6:33 am

So much time was being wasted. He should've clocked out half an hour ago, not be rummaging around empty rooms hoping the notebook would magically appear. If anything, it must've wound up in the Lost And Found or trash?

     William wouldn't go looking there. Besides, if the manager arrived now, all previous suspicious would revive and skyrocket.

He hurried to another room.

     A few hours earlier, during the notebook search to find information on what to do with Patton, he came across a list of several functions that weren't in his booklet. One of those was muting and unmuting animatronics: a very simple two-button operation.

     He thanked his past self for finding that section.


—————

Footsteps.

Their purposeful rhythm snapped him out of his boredom spell. Faint key jingles signaled who was passing by...or stopping by.

     Thomas opened the broken door, talking the moment his foot stepped in the room. "I can't be with the others, so I'll be talking with you."

     Virgil cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. This had to be a joke.

     His apathetic expression, remote pointing at the kid, and bitter orbs for eyes flashed a resemblance with a certain someone else. The animatronic's chest mimicked a constriction within, the equivalent of a skipped heartbeat. He recoiled when the guard pressed buttons mercilessly.

     Scorching voltage flowered inside his chest and bolted up.

     Then nothing else.

"It's ok." The man reassured. "You can speak now."

He blinked. Wait, really?

"You..." Virgil stopped, pleasantly surprised. Guilt swelled for ever thinking Thomas would hurt him. "Thank you..."

     A tired, genuine smile lit up the guard's face. "No problem."

     Some new kind of remote came into the open.

"Hide this for me. And if you see Patton, try to convince him to get back in his suit. His soul is loose—well, sort of. We need him back before anyone finds out."

Oh yeah, that issue. Talyn had informed everyone else about Shadow Patton, what he looked and acted like. No idea as to how he managed to get free, and not much time to dissect his weird existence either.

Virgil stretched out a hand, and Thomas placed the small remote on his palm.

"I'll be back by 9 pm, alright?"

After a small goodbye wave, the guard stood outside Nightmare Cove, mumbling something about Roman and the missing doorknob. "Another problem today, huh?" Then shut the door.

     Panicky footsteps left his auditory range.

Virgil stared at the item he was somehow trusted to keep safe. This device had a few large buttons as oppose to their regular, complex ones. Nevertheless, he stored it inside his chest cavity.

Silence held on to him for hours on end. Or maybe his mind filtered time with severe lags.

Boredom turned into thinking, thinking turned into stress, and that led to an inevitable loophole.

     What if somebody already saw Patton? What if they spread the news? What if that became how William found out everything? What if the devious old man pried information out of him again? And all hell would break loose because there's no way to properly lie—or even severely misguide him.

     No one else stood inside his room, no one could witness his shudders, but he pushed down the swelling feeling inside his chest.

     His brain pounded from holding it in.

     What if they didn't actually deserve a 'good ending'? Thomas changed his mind.

What if they all lived forever and ever and ever AND EVER BECAUSE THIS WHOLE GODDAMN THING WAS DOOMED FROM THE START!

     Metal hands gripped his face. They slid down, one fingertip accidentally lapsed into his empty eye socket. His delicate, human body was long gone, but that didn't stop the vivid sensation of tears from intruding.

    

   

———————

9:45 am

     Mr. Afton told everyone that his 'original crafted games' would stay in the arcade room for a week. The older tech toys were squashed into the employee room, and after all that work, the young employee was certain he'd wind up with sore muscles and a broken back the next day.

Fun times.

Now, the teenager's job was to oversee the newer stands and get 'em up and running. Alone.

While plugging in the first machine, he detected a nosy coworker's shoes out of the corner of his eye. They stood there, judging him. He braced himself for a snarky comment, but she stayed quiet. The teenager grumbled under his breath for her to go away.

They shifted closer.

"What d'ya want—"

     His mouth gaped open from it's half-shouting complaint.

     What he mistook for shoes were the feet of a black figure with glowing eyes. The wall sucked it in and poof—gone.

    Limbs and head became deadlocked.

    No fucking way.

He replayed it in his head. The thing was real, no doubt: as authentic as his panic.

     The rumors, conspiracy theories, supposed sightings! They were real?! He was a bit skeptical about them when they came up a couple years ago, but now—now he witnessed what very few correctly theorized.

"Holy shit!" He whisper-screamed. "This place really is fucking haunted!"

————————


It should've taken a second to process what stood inside the arcade room, not a whole minute!

     But the daydreaming kicked in. How fun it would be to tear apart every last chunk, and leave it all in a hopeless wreckage. Unfortunately, his ability to phase through matter rendered another aspect of his freedom useless. Right as he began thinking of a different way to destroy them, a teenager yelled at his face. Nobody would believe him anyways, adults loved to dismiss warnings against the unexplainable. Especially if it came from someone younger.

The living shadow tried going to Talyn, but their glowing soul illuminated through crevasses of the music box. An employee kept them company in the security office.

     Roman couldn't talk either, being at the center stage in the dining room and surrounded by half a dozen people milling around. Logan's soul floated immobile in the basement, blankly staring at nothing as if already dead. Deactivated, he hoped.

     When he had a good guess of Virgil's location, he glitched through a ceiling light, observing upside-down. Electricity short-circuited around his neck.

     Dimly lit walls, Halloween-type posters, violet curtains with golden stars embroidered in—yep, right place.

     The last wave of nostalgia rammed into Shadow Patton upon seeing his friend's true form. Black was Virgil's favorite color, and he was covered head to toe in it: hoodie, ripped jeans, checkered shoes, even little bud earrings. Virgil never left home without making sure his bangs were swept to the side and draped past his chin. He kept the trendy hairstyle for their fatal pizzeria party.

     The kid swiveled right-side up. If all went well, his friend would see a black spot, then a full body—which might be the better introduction.

     His buddy sat perched in the air, legs crisscrossed, elbows on knees, and face buried in hands.

     Change of plans. The shadow zipped next to the stage. Tall curtains separated each other from sight.

"Virgil?"

     A sharp inhale rasped from the other side.

"Don't be afraid, I'm your friend...and I look different, but I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Patton?" A young boy's voice came through, replacing the brooding, mechanical one he'd grown used to hearing. "Shadow?"

     Why'd he hear the real thing? Talyn still had their programmed one...they also must've spread the word about himself.

"Where are you?" Mechanical twists sounded off from the other side.

The shadow phased a hand through the curtain, then his entire body. He levitated to be face to face with Virgil.

The older boy froze. He looked at Patton up and down, registering his uncanny image. Slowly but surely, the terror glazed away.

"Did anyone else see you?" Virgil's bleak whisper pierced through him.

     His friend was shaken up enough, it wouldn't do him good to hear more bad news.

"Only Thomas knows."

     Virgil's face softened, relieved.

"What's bothering you?"

The other rested a trembling hand on his stomach. Dark eyebrows scrunched close, forming tiny distressed lines on his forehead. "You aren't supposed to be free."

"I'm not." Shadow Patton kept his voice gentle. "I can't escape, there's something like a force field around this place. Another one blocks me from the Scooping Room, too."

There went the bug-eyed stare again.

"I found something bad, it's why I came to you. Remember the games? They're here. You're the only one who can help me destroy them—or at least think of something."

Virgil quieted, fingers tapping absentmindedly on knees. Metal clinks reminded the glitching kid that in anyone else's perspective, he was talking to a grinning, 7 foot tall animatronic.

     But the soul belonging to it was utterly devastated. His chest heaved up and down, to the rhythm of imagined breaths. Hesitance deprived him of a levelheaded tone.

"If I help...do..you promise to go back in your suit?"

"But I—"

"Please?"


——————————-

His mechanical heart ramped up speed after the desperate request.

Shadow Patton glitched tremendously, giving off the illusion of a malfunctioning 8-bit character. When a stable composure returned, the nightmarish figure wasn't looking at him anymore.

Oh. He fucked up. Pushed his luck too far. Nothing good would come out of this now.

Virgil shut his eyes tighter than necessary. A long time ago, Patton offered the theory that because their essence hadn't passed on, it still amplified every emotion with natural instinct. The animatronic willed for its useless notion to go away. He wanted his friend to listen, not pity him.

"Virge..."

His friend turned around. Concentrated beams of light shined on the mascot.

"...we'll see."



























————————

Next chapter is a' coming October 14th!

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net