"FN@F - The Bite of '87 - Chapt. 7 "First Mate, Last Crew"" By Skeptic_Writefag (https://pastebin.com/u/Skeptic_Writefag) URL: https://pastebin.com/K5UN8eWY Created on: Saturday 30th of August 2014 03:39:19 AM CDT Retrieved on: Friday 30 of October 2020 06:36:38 AM UTC >Shit it’s the fuzz! >You outright tackle Foxy behind the curtains and close it. >Funnily, he's the one to try and shut your mouth before you can speak. “Lad, you need to stay back here. This may get ugly if he finds out yer talking to me.” “Yeah, I figured, genius, but what if he looks back here?” *SLAM* “You’ll think of something, bucko.” >and with that your first mate abandons you to hold off the beast. >What a trooper. “Foxy! Well it sure is jolly good to see you here again!” you hear from beyond the cloth, "ohhhhh wait! You're always here! Ahyuckhyuck, ohhhh silly me!" >That thing can sure pull off the act of being jolly when he’s just a twitch from killing you all. “AHHHHHAIIIIEEEEE” “Awwww, poor ol’ Foxy. Bear still got your tongue?” You hear the shifting of gears and tapping of steps as he approaches your crew-mate with a laugh. “Weeeeeeeeeeellll, guess you’ll just have to keep looking for it in here, because you’re not allowed to have visitors. That’s the rules here at Freeeeeeeddy Fazbears! Gyuhuh!” He gives another goofy laugh, "You.. do remember the rules, don'tcha, Foxy pal?" >You hear nothing from the swashbuckling canine, patience being in his oil. “Do ya know what else is against the rules, Foxy ‘lad’?” he taunted further, he must have started whispering but you could hear it just barely, “..stealing company property..” *SLAM* >and with that, came the punctuated clang of metal on metal, and the resounding crash of Foxy slamming into the ground much further away from you. *CLANG, CLANG, CLANG, CLANG* >Methodical clashing of alloys hitting each other with force fill your eardrums for a full minute, each one making you cringe a little. >Aw jesus, this wasn’t sounding good. They were bots, but even you were wincing at how much damage that was translating out to. >Fucker must be mangling the poor guy. >You hunker down though, helplessly listening to Foxy’s screech slowly wither down to an inaudible whisper no louder than a mosquito tone. >After enough hits went by that convinced you that your seafaring compatriot was no more than a tin can, Freddy's crushing blows came to stop, a whine of servos attempting movement slowly emitting past the closed off stage area. “Ah will find him, Foxy, and if ah find out that you’ve tried to tell him anything, I’ll know. You may not even be lucky enough to be out of order anymore. Hyuck!” >Freddy’s footsteps started trailing to the door >“You moight just be put out of commission! For good! Oh ho ho ho! So think of the darling children. Think of Mikey! You want to see them again don’tcha?” >It was only then did you start to really fear what Freddy was running backstage, no pun intended, as his voice deepened with a metallic undertone, “So stay put, or you’ll never so much as play with another child in what life you have left. I bet little Timmy would be so ashamed of you, breaking policy again.. Guess you’ll have plenty of time to talk with him from that spot! Take care, Foxy. Goodnight~” >The tremors from the ground and a following boom of the door slamming shut signaled the exit of Freddy from the scene of the crime. >You froze, unable to move for several minutes. >Moving only elicited paranoid thoughts of hearing Freddy's hums approaching from down the hall over and over.. >You only dared to peek out from your spot to look toward Foxy, bloodied, well more "oiled", and beaten. >Dents covered his already exposed torso of sparking circuitry and wires, one of his ears bent out of place and on the verge of plunging towards the ground. >Pain surely wasn’t something they felt, but how could you be sure with all the crazy shit going on here? “Foxy..?” You whispered out to him, eyes trained on the door to your side, your mind playing tricks on you hearing the same looped laugh you'd normally hear from Freddy moving rooms on camera. “Foxy, are you.. are you alive?” “L-l-AAIIIEEEE-ad, me legs, lad…” sparks flew wildly every which way as he adjusted his head to face you, “Oi can’ feel me legs..” His jaw hung loose on one end, still leaking fluid. “Oi thin-in-k it moight be the ssssSssSss-CUUUURRRR-vyy-y-y.” >This guy was unbelievable. Is he really staying in character after all that? Does he not know better? “Foxy, you’re hurt.” Duh, “your legs are..” Mangled, stripped, torn, practically in a pretzel knot, "They're not looking good.." “Aye la-la-FIRS-lad, this be true. Yer ol’ Captai-ain-CAPTURED-n be needin’ a peg leg ‘er two before sai-MATEY-lin’ once more, Arr…” >He jams his claw into himself, rather unexpectedly and fishes out a scrap of paper, recognizably one of the first ‘messages’ you gave him. “Ol’ Fazbeard..Ol Dreade-DEA-dre-DEAD-aded Fazbe-BEA-rd be a cutthroat til the end.. Used me t’get away with the muuuuuurrrrdddddd—err of me own best crewmember back in the cold win-TERRRR of Eigh-Eighty Seven..” >You clutched the sheet and finally turned it over. >”My Fun Day!” >It was a picture of Foxy and a child, an arrow pointing to the kid with a little signature at the bottom. >It was.. “Timmy..” >Your fist closed around the paper, shaking with a building fury inside from this sudden revelation. “Ayyye—aye-aye CAPTAIN! He’d been me first and most loooyyy-al crew member. Came to sail to Pirate’s Cove and beyond with the rest of me hearties! YoooooHOOHOooHOO..” A burst of static escaped his speakers again “but he an’ I.. We be shipmates TIL THE END AND BACK” He screeched loudly driving his hook directly into the chest of his chassis, a dark liquid seeping out of the hole, the light reflecting off of it revealing a dark crimson sheen to it. >You wanted to quiet him down just in case, but he drooped down, voice lowering as well, “This here be the end of the line fer yer ol’-olllllll Captain Fox-FORE-Foxy.. COME BACK AGAIN, KIDD—Take care, Shmitty! Make yer Ca-a-aptain PROOOOOUUUuuuudddddddd..” he concluded, the very power sustaining him draining away from his eyes, the light glowing dimmer and dimmer as his last transmission faded. >You stood, looking down at the mess, pushing his open animatronic eye down to close, doffing your hat at a lost crewman. >Your sentiment was lost on the hunk of metal but it just felt right after what you learned. >You hear the thudding of footsteps once more, this time lighter than that of Freddy’s. >Anger welled up inside you. The children, most likely all reported, MAYBE MORE, had most likely all died by the bear’s paw. >Something about that one in particular was different, though it mattered little at this point. >He had to be stopped.