Self Corrupted

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     Every single thing leading up to this moment had to be an insane fabrication of his mind. A hallucination. This wasn't real. What was real anymore?

     Chills immobilized his body. Human eyes didn't break away from the nightmarish figure levitating too close. Light never pierced its body, absorbing it as the personification of a black void. No matter how much Thomas blinked, the paranormal entity didn't vanish or fade from sight.

     Questions burned his mind, one cutting another in a daze of pandemonium thoughts.

Was this Patton's soul? Spirit? They look like that? Then why wasn't he leaving? Spirits leave into an afterlife, don't they? Or was it all a lie: the living and dead coexist on the same plane of reality, everyone who ever saw one wasn't crazy?!

     If Patton's spirit was out in the open....oh my god he killed the poor kid—

     His chest caved in, deprived of oxygen in fleeting moments of white noise buzzing from his ears.

     The child was free? Freed that easily?

     No...

     No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO—

     Absolutely nothing proved it! The nervous system and core chip of his weren't destroyed. The kid was still trapped!

     Patton's body gave way. Rectangles and squares rearranged themselves in a glitch: resembling an animated, broken puzzle. His humanoid form clicked back. The child looked around, unaffected or neglectful about his state of manifestation.

"And where's everyone?"

     No amount of internal screaming encouraged the guard to say anything.

Coal-black hands rose again, fingers curled and unfurled, testing flexibility. His gaze fell hypnotized by them once more, observing how each movement was too quick. Too wispy. Unnatural.

"You...did this to me?" Those eerie glowing circles faced him. Patton settled on the answer, and the voices grew resentful. "You hurt me."

This wasn't supposed to be happening!

Faint and unstable, his voice tumbled out. "I'm sorry...you were trapped inside your own head and I- and I tried to fix it. I think I can still help..."

     Thomas stretched out a hand towards the living shadow. He hoped electric currents weren't still within the kid. A hyper pulse throbbed into tensed muscles, resulting in uncontrollable quivers. He swallowed hard.

"You can trust me."

A radiant grimace stretched across the blackened face. Patton whooshed away from the outstretched palm.

"Stay back." He hissed, newfound bitterness exploding forth.

Thomas kept his hand in the air, trying to sound as calm as he possibly could. His attempt crumbled into what sounded like being on the verge of tears.

"We can fix what went wrong."

"Shut up!"

"I'm only trying to help—"

"SHUT UP!" Patton distorted with every scream.

His companion lowered his arm and created a further distance from the glitching figure, reluctant to say more. The child hovered backwards as well, attention taken over by massive windows. An eerie hush burdened the air between them.

     Like a moth drawn to light, Patton zipped to the glass structure, a tiny hand yearned towards the sky. Another physical rearranging traveled at the moment of contact, from fingertips to toes. The distorted shadow phased through the glass panel, acting as an animation error.

     Unfortunately, this was real life.


—————————

     It had been years since fresh air surrounded him. He couldn't smell or physically feel much, but he could sense the difference. Wide open space, wide world.

     Freedom.

     The boy threw his gaze to the heavens above. Blankets of stars and the comforting glow of a full moon swirled as he turned circles to grasp on every detail. He spun faster and faster, watching the sky turn into a show of lights.

A giggle bubbled out of him. It morphed into full-on laughter.

     He took off, hand extended to touch a star. The fluttering, burning sensation inside of him erupted into a waterfall of pure joy. Shimmering tears flooded down his cheeks, and rushing wind pushed them down faster as he went higher and higher.

Then an unseeable force nudged down on his body.

His pathway slowed, like a toy train cranking to a halt. The entity kicked his legs, swimming through the oddly dense atmosphere. He thrashed harder, struggling against a gravitational wave that pushed his body towards solid ground.

     Odd forces lifted their weight once the child hovered right above dirty cement.

     He streaked past the restaurant, zoomed away from the man stepping outside. The being kept himself hovering a few inches above cement, and this time: flying in the direction of city lights. As before, the edge of an invisible radius prevented him from even crossing the street.

     Frustrated cries in the form of high-pitched static aimed for the guard's face.

"Whatever you're doing, stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything!"

The shadow huffed out a ragged breath, glaring icy daggers to the adult.

Maybe there was another way to escape.

     He sank down, rushing into the ground, into darkness. The image of a cursed basement shot up his vision, as if everything was just a speedy elevator ride. When a nagging force latched onto his feet, he swooped into a vertical route. Yet, no matter which way he went, the invisible sphere remained. Couldn't go deeper than a certain point, couldn't travel further than a specific length, and it was definitely impossible to go higher than a set number of feet.

     He skyrocketed to Thomas.

"Let me go! Let US go!"

"I'm trying to figure that out!" Despite the optimistic message, Thomas retreated. Indoor lights bleeding through glass doors shrouded his frame, giving off a silhouette illusion. "Patton..."

—————————————

His brain faltered to spew up reasons for this creature to calm down. Or at least leave him alone. Each passing heartbeat, each wasted breath, only boiled the kid's wrath.

     It took every ounce of strength to portray the courage he wished was real.

"I will end this." He uttered. "You guys have been living a nightmare for far too long, it's gotta end."

     The blood-pumping muscle jolted out of place, his chest tightened: unable to let go of turmoil. He had to keep speaking his mind.

"Remember when you said you felt bad for dragging me into this mess? I didn't know what to say then, but..."

The shadow narrowed his eyes, listening.

"Don't blame yourself, ok? I chose to stay. I'm in the fight 'till the end, buddy." A faint smile broke through. "No lies between us."

     Glitches shuddered over Patton's outline. He caught a pained expression in the altering jumble of his face. In a black streak, the figure whizzed overhead and disappeared into the pizzeria.

     His shoulders dropped. Well, it was worth the attempt.

Beyond the desolate parking lot, city lights fogged up the lower night sky. He couldn't help but think how everyone over there dwelled normal lives, and had their regular hectic days. Tiny prickles of jealously enwrapped him.

     A lone car sat a few yards away from the restaurant's doors. It was his own rusty, second-handed vehicle, which kept William's notebook in a safe compartment.....

Wait.

——————-

     The ghoul phased through the restaurant's ceiling, floating comfortably inside air vents.

He wasn't so sure what to believe anymore.

     All he remembered was keeping his mouth shut when William unexpectedly came, receiving the usual electrocution, momentarily being in total darkness, and then experienced another controlled shock—way more powerful and intense than any he felt before. Followed with a highly agonizing pain in his entire body. By the time he gained full consciousness, the dinning room was bright and empty with a terrified man standing in front of him.

     The only one who knew how to put an animatronic through that specific torture was William. Something wasn't right here.

     The shadow continued his path through the enclosed tunnels, and he grew aware of shuffling noises nearby.

     Rats came up here, too?

     He turned the corner, ready to swerve over icky, overgrown mice, but immediately halted. 

     A young girl crawling on all fours scooted along the vent. Long hair draped over her face: curtains allowing a slim portion of her face to be seen.

     Back in the animatronic suit, he couldn't see colors due to limited programming. Outside, that problem was nonexistent. And the girl's pale skin seemed to glow amongst darkness. Her nails pecked at metallic floor.

     Who left their child in the pizzeria?!

He floated to the lost kid, careful to keep his distance. "Hello? Who are you?"

Startled, a face jerked up. Thin hair swayed back, fully revealing their identity. A blood-curdling scream filled the air vents.

This wasn't a girl.

The young kid scrambled backwards, continuing to rupture their voice box.

"Wait—no! It's me!" He inched forward, trying to not frighten his friend. "It's ok!"

     Talyn crawled away faster, resembling a frightened animal caught in the sights of a predator. He couldn't grasp why his friend had suddenly taken on a different appearance. The one where...they were fully human.

"You're free?!

They shrunk back, quieted. Dark brown eyes darted around his figure, mentally piecing together who was speaking. Bit by bit, their panic melted away, swapped for growing curiosity and concern. Recognition dawned on their face.

"Patton?! Did—wh—are you free?"

"No. Why're you outta your suit?"

     His friend scrunched up their eyebrows, utterly puzzled. "I'm still in it." 

     A pause filled the cramped atmosphere.

"But I can see you—actually see you! You look normal!"

"What?"

"Like a normal person."

A ripple of twitches sailed across his body. For a split second, Talyn's image was replaced by the grinning puppet.

     Talyn shook their head, "Ok—we'll worry about that later. What the fuck happened to you?!"

"I dunno...I was on my stage, I blinked? And then boom—I'm like this and in front of Thomas."

     His companion fretted upon hearing the guard's name. They slinked forward.

"He's ok, right? Where is he?"

"He's..." What's the right word? The man always looked after them, no matter how iffy his attempts looked. Yet, perception is fickle and loves to change whenever a suspicious act emerges. "....a liar."

     Talyn cocked their head to the side. A discomforted stare omitted from a softly illuminated face. "My dude, you sure you're—"

"I know what I'm talking about!"

Muffled clip-claps of shoes rang below their air vent, both kids shut up. The living shadow dipped his head through the metal structure. Sure enough, a particular night guard hastily walked beneath them. An old, yellow paged notebook with sketches of a very familiar machine accompanied Thomas. Whispers ebbed from his mouth, partial vowels and words the young boy couldn't audibly decipher.

He lowered himself completely, following above the man's head.

"...nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Take away the zero? Or all ones?"

What.

What was he planning?

He dashed straight up into the air vent, trembling from rage.

"See—" An empty tunnel held no audience. He swooped down and passed through the original spot he left from. This time, someone was right in front of him. "See?! Why would he be helping us if he's gonna go to the place—"

"I'm gonna check on Thomas." The other kid hastily interrupted. "We're all worried for him."

The shadow glitched. An image of the marionette skittering off revealed a glimpse of reality. He soared to halt his friend's path.

"If he's supposed to be good, explain why he's got blueprints to The Scooper!"

Their body went stiff. Disbelief clouded their gaze, mouth hung open in surprise. He didn't care to wait for any objection.

"See for yourself if you don't believe me." The boy crossed his arms, huffed, and sank down.

He needed to find out what Thomas was up to.

A violet uniform disappeared around a corner, he stalked close behind. It didn't matter how much of a distance he kept or how quiet he was, Thomas felt the need to glance over his shoulder; assumably perceiving the ghoul tracking him. Whenever the man's head rotated ever so slightly, the shadow phased through the closest wall, counted to 10, then continued pursuit. Both traveled to the end of a dismal hallway.

     In fact, their pizzeria had two hallways. At the end of the less traveled one, no animatronic touched the janitorial closet residing there. It was always locked, and employees constantly made rumors about it: 'Doesn't the manager have a safe stock-full of money over there?' 'I heard Mr. Oram keeps guns in it!' 'Be realistic, it's probably junk.'

He wished those assumptions were real.

———————————-

     A palm slid alongside the door's frame. Dried paint ran under his fingers, a few flakes chipped off and floated to the ground like snowflakes. Thomas lightened the pressure, trying to catch a camouflaged square. C'mon, the notebook depicted a hidden—

Click!

     One tile sank into the wall, slid sideways into a crevasse, and a 9-digit keypad poked out.

     Huh. Easy enough.

     He peered at the scrappy paper by his feet.

9. 10. 11. 12. 13

     Numbers written next to a sketch of the exact mechanism before him. Those had to be a clue of some sort, to get inside. To undo a grave mistake.

9111213

Nothing. He tried a backwards input.

31211119

A clattering from above kickstarted his alertness. He wheeled just in time to see the marionette face-plant from an opening in the ceiling vents.

Clank!

     He winced at their harsh landing.

"Oh my gosh—are you ok?"

     Thomas rushed to the fallen child. To his distress, Talyn didn't fidget or get up from their hazardous tumble. He gently shook the marionette's shoulder. "Kid, are you hurt?"

After a surge of mechanical jolts, the puppet curled upright.

"Uh—y-yeah, sorry 'bout that," They stammered. "My body froze when I leaned over the opening. I swear, it happens at the most inconvenient times."

His heart slowed from its jittery tempo. At their awkward chuckle, Thomas frowned.

"How'd you get out the basement?"

"Used the vents. We heard screaming, so they sent me to check on you." Talyn hid their hands behind their back, suddenly sheepish. "But they also told me to not be seen. Um, I've been told you're mad? At everyone?"

     His chest wrenched.

"I don't..." The guard carefully picked out his next words. "I don't hate any of you, if that's what you're thinking. It's just...things going on are too out of control."

Talyn nodded in sympathy. Glowing pupils drifted to the closet door, and their face froze. As if by cue, the marionette back-paddled, finding comfort in standing behind Thomas.

"What are you going to do?" Every word rolled unnaturally slow, quavering near the end.

"I, uh, just need to fetch something inside."

"What exactly?"

"Another type of remote." He glanced at the keypad. "I-I'll take care of this one, you can go back to the others."

     The puppet looked up at him, ill at ease. No protest uprose, just a tiny nod of understanding and an imploring voice. "Be very careful."


———————

Since all the night guard saw was a smiling, metal mask, he didn't see Talyn's alarmed face when they turned around. Didn't notice how their head swayed to the side, wanting to return.

But their little ebony boots kept trudging away.

The duo hadn't seen him: a black blob with glossy eyes, watching from beside fluorescent lights. The rest of his body hung still inside the inner-works and empty space beyond the ceiling.

     Talyn passed underneath and walked out the hallway, unaware of a third presence.

     He observed the adult try several other codes, then be rewarded with the click of a lock becoming undone. Deep-pitched, rumbling mechanisms cranked behind the entry. Absolute darkness loomed on the other side, and after a moment of hesitation, he disappeared into it. The door shut gently behind him.

     The boy darted from his hiding spot and rammed his head against the closed gateway.

     Ow!

     He grumbled, and tried to phase through the wall instead. That same feeling of an invisible sphere didn't allow him to follow Thomas. But why should it matter now? Let the dude find what he finds.

     The phantom soared away, in search of another individual.


—————————-

A key, and you'd step into a tiny room with empty shelves.

The correct code in a keypad, and a wall of that ridiculously tiny closet would sink into the ground: creating an instant passageway.

Damp, stale air entered his lungs. Oxygen that had been trapped inside a narrow, bleak hallway filled his system. Breathing through the mouth made it easier to navigate the unventilated zone.

Thomas extended his arms, trying to feel his way around. Enough space resided for both his elbows to touch brick walls. The roof...unreachable. He cautiously dragged his hands across the walls, periodically waving them in circles to find another door, switch, something.

     The notebook only mentioned the entrance to 6 hidden rooms, all within the center of the pizzeria's layout. An illustration showed the restaurant built around an enclosed space. To keep it from becoming public knowledge must've taken lives or death threats.

     The night guard came across 5 sleek, frigid doors. 3 on the left wall, 2 on the right. All sealed shut. He wandered deeper into pitch black darkness, goosebump-coated arms detected enormous space around him. No more walls. He must've walked into a vast place.

     Was this where he needed to be? The device capable of putting Patton back in his suit was inside one of these damn rooms. Hidden, too.

     What time was it? 5 am? 6?

     Thomas quickened his pace. His hand brushed against a sharpened, sleek object. By instinct, his arm jerked back.

     He needed to see. Fast.

     The man traveled at an angle, his palms landed on a brick surface. Perfect. Now to just...lightly smooth both hands in random directions. A plastic nub flicked under his thumb's movement.

     And there was blinding light.

————————

     Lightbulbs flickered off as the shadow swooped down from the ceiling. He drifted alongside his friend, sparing a quick smile at them before falling into awkward silence.

     It didn't

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