TransformationYou shouldn’t feel sorry for me. All of those actions I did in the dark were truly reprehensible. As for my wife and son, they were merely tools of mine, unwary of my secret nature. They served as a façade of me being a decent person without sadistic tendencies, and nothing more. For how could a kindly family man ever be a serial murderer at the same time? Truthfully, I had minimal emotional investment in the two known as my nuclear family. And if they were emotionally tortured by my absence? I don’t care.
It was bound to happen eventually, the killer becoming the killed. I must have hidden inside that suit because sheer panic clouded my judgment. I should have known that entering that suit was a bad idea when I could smell the pungent odor of mildew, dust, and dried blood inside the suit upon opening it up. But by the time I was giddily jeering at the specters of those I had slain while in my little disguise, it was too late.
Like an iron maiden, the mechanical inside
ReunionThe restaurant called Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was a popular family restaurant and entertainment center when I was growing up. Now, my family could never afford to go there very often. We were definitely not the most affluent family. However, my father was a security guard there, so I remember visiting there a small handful of times for very special treats.
Whatever series of events that forced that once-popular restaurant to eventually close down for good haunts me to this day.
Over the years, there were many unexplained disappearances. First it was the child patrons of the restaurant. Then the security guards of the restaurant started to disappear. The turnover rate of security guards at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza became alarmingly high. The evening news began to mention that if the guards did not disappear, they quit for undisclosed reasons.
I remember for a period of time, Mother often begged Father to resign his security guard job for his safety. “Dear, this restaurant