2Anything for the Children
April 11th, 1952
The medical practices are outdated and his parents are poor. Surely his will stop behaving so abnormally and violent, his father says. Surely it's just a phase, his mother frets. He stares a little too hard at the other children. His parents don't hear how it rings in his sensitive ears, they don't feel the scraping in his mind when he's touching. He hates to be touched. He hates them and he hates all of their 'friends'. He hates the children who call him their friend because they are certainly not his. He hates the other children the most, the ones who humiliate and exploit him at every possible chance.
He is strolling along behind his parents, obvious to their rapid and frequent glances to make sure he is calm once more. He is far too satisfied with the events that just took place within the little daycare he went too. The teachers tried to chalk it up to a meltdown from the strange little boy, but it was far too violent for them to keep him within the daycare. This made him very happy; they wore bright clothes and laughed as much as the other children.
He kept seeing their horrified faces, hearing the way they screamed. Their screeches soothed his nerves, which had otherwise been completely rubbed raw by the bell-like laughter. One of the other children, a teacher's older son who was in second grade, his face all bruised up. He could barely stand up by the time he was removed from his enemy and his 'episode' ended. The boy was finally the one crying.
"It's me!" The toddler remembered idly screaming as he finally got his revenge. "It's me!"
It was him. It was him coming against the enemy that everyone posed around him and letting them see his true colors. Oh yes, it was him.
April 11th, 1962
It was his younger sister's half birthday and they were going to go to the quaint little restaurant in town. It was sponsored brightly by Freddie Fazbear, a golden-furred costume that walked around and interacted with all of the guests. His sister was ecstatic to finally get to meet the cartoon-esque character and he refused to admit his own excitements. He loved animals and they helped him cope with all of his inner problems. Now he would get interact with one.
"Hi kids!" He was finally there, talking to them a masculine, warm voice. "How's the pizza?"
"Good, Freddy!" Linda cheered as their parents smiled on happily.
He stared at the suit, the large eyes painted on. He wanted the costume at once and it took his mother grabbing his arms to keep him from pouncing on the unsuspecting man. She whispered her question in a hiss, but he was hardly paying attention. He would become an animal, the best animal there would be.
He noticed the girl not much younger than he was staring up at the restaurant. She was sad, tears in her eyes. He decided she was sad because she wanted to be animal too, just like the golden Freddy. He walked out and led her behind the building, using his pocket knife to free her soul. He was happy as he walked back inside, the blood on his fingers looking just like the ketchup on her shirt. He'd just take his turn being an animal after she was done.
April 11, 1972
He was an animal. He was in the suit at long last, posing as one of the brightly advertised animatrionic companions. The children with their loud and painful laughter loved him, trusted him, seemed to have a general need in his presence. The employees believed his faux records, fully entrusting he was merely another marketing campaign from the higher ups. It was a perfect guise. After all, nobody else would ever understand his true motives.
It was simple, really. Ten years ago on this exact day- he looked back on the outdated calenders to ensure his accuracy- he'd come into Freddy Fazebear's Diner. Now it was a highly popular and acclaimed pizzaria. The children loved the singing animatronics that roamed about, interacting and playing with them all. He just knew that the children wanted to be the colorful animals they so adored. Now he just had to select his way through the masses to find the types he was looking for all day.
He'd requested being at the front door that day to greet families as the entered. A small girl with the exact shade of hair his sister had walked in and his heart began to race. She was perfect, absolutely perfect. She would be so happy when she was in the suit, but he knew he wouldn't have to hear her laugh. After all, the suit muffled out most sound. It was the perfect compromise.
"And what's your name?" He inquired while he placed a band on her wrist.
"Linda!" She squeaked before running inside.
Linda, like his sister. He was sure his baby sister would love the coming together of his wonderful plan if she was still alive. Maybe even his parents would enjoy it. He walked through the ground, face disguised as he searched for more children. The two older children seeming to debate the designs of the characters, the little girl eagerly hugging Foxy, the boy asking Freddy Fazebear himself questions.
Perfect. That were absolutely perfect.
