=Chapter 1=
Tommy Wilson was in a mood that night. His eyes were pinched closed, his mouth open as wide as it could be as he cried and screamed in the back seat. The car shook ever so slightly as he turned his small body every way he knew how, much to the growing dismay of his father whose hands kept slipping, just missing the mark a little each time he thought he had the belt ready to buckle around his son's chest.

Sandra Wilson sat in the front passenger seat, one hand busy working her forehead temples, and the other fidgeting with the radio dial. The dim orange overhead light didn't do her any favors, and neither did the fact she had only one eye open. She had a headache that was threatening becoming a migraine that night as Tommy's crying entered into the coughing and gagging phase of his routine.

Blake had finally snapped the belt on and retreated from the back seat, his son grabbing at his hands and arms in futile attempt before he closed the back door. Like his wife, he wasn't expecting the night to go perfectly but he didn't expect it to be short either. The Fazbear PizzaPlex seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, Tommy was always running around the house having his imaginary adventures and pretending to be with Freddy and the Glamrock gang. Maybe it was all the noise, all the people, or maybe all the neon bright lights. Even for a mall it was a bit claustrophobic with just how many other parents and their kids were there. He didn't know it, but the PizzaPlex was always packed. Monday through Sunday, 7:00am-11:00. What Blake also hadn't been aware of was that this entire scene in the parking lot was being watched by someone else who had taken in their fair share of watching similair childhood meltdowns in and out of Plex.

 Eric Tanson took another drag off his cigarette as he watched the man who he could see was a ticking time bomb of midlife crisis, take in a deep breath and open the driver side door. Even over the general ambience of the night and the overhead intercom radio's music, Eric got to hear one last cry out of Tommy Wilson before the door closed and the car started off for what would surely be a long night for the three of them. You'd see this stuff a lot at just about anywhere folks would take their kids in with crowds. Theme lands, amusement parks, you name it. Something about too many people, too many hands shoving and too many things going on and off all at the same time that could make a kid usually end up as a sobbing mess on the floor.

He took another puff from the quickly dwindling roll and let the feeling of the cold night air wash over him for a moment. He didn't like it when the kids got crying, and there was a lot of it at Freddy's. A lot of cheering, a lot of shouting, screaming of all kinds, and crying. And Eric hated every single moment of it. Not that he hated kids or anything like that, no, he wasn't that way with anyone. Well, mostly not everyone save for the rowdy guy or gal now and then who drank one too many and got a little too friendly with the customers and staff. That or some young, dumb teen taking their shot at pocketing some store merch and trying making a run. You've got to have a certain kind of stupid to try for a shoplifter arrest record over a Monty Gator key chain. But never the less, that was exactly the kind of people he needed to keep his eyes out for nearly each and every day there.

 Security's not the worst line of work. It has its ups some days and it has its downs. Most incidents weren't anything major, and often times they were quiet enough or at least they got quiet fast enough. It's not like you carried guns in this line of work either. No, what you usually relied on was a taser as your backup, and if you were anything like Eric, you always hoped you could either get things cooled down, or some backup before you had to go reaching for it. He only had to use it once, and that came after he staggered up from sunglasses display he'd been shoved into and onto the floor. He didn't like to think about that mess. Working in places you're used to shopping in or love, it's kind of like...sponging off the magic you thought you saw in it. Being in security though is like taking a power washer to it.

But the pay though, the pay for security jobs was usually good, and it was definitely good at the Plex; and it was the money that Eric was needing now more than ever. College was a ways off still, and his position was only temp for the holidays, but at least a bit of what he was making could go to the tuition by the time things were wrapping up after New Year's. The pay was good at the Plex, the rest of his team was good, and for what it was worth, the kids were most times good, even if he'd heard enough screaming and crying to last him a lifetime.   

 "Attention Freddy fans!" the overhead intercom blared as the music track switched over to the all too familiar sounds of rock guitar. "The Glamrock show is about to begin!"
"Well, look's like it's showtime again." Eric said as he flicked what remained of his cigarette and headed back in to the warm and pulsing lights through the double doors.

When most people thought of animatronics they probably imagined the kind of things they saw in arcades and pizza parlors back in the heyday of the 80's. You know, the kind of bulky looking plastic and rug covered masses of metal that jerked and spasmed in place on stage to music that was...okay at best. Sometimes they'd tell puns and jokes to one another or stare out to the audience with those mechanical, unblinking, uncanny eyes, and ask a question to mostly empty seats. Their jaws would flap, and their heads would shake with every move their jaw made, the straining and whirring as they'd snap back and forth as if somehow movement made them more alive.

Eric remembered things like that when he was a kid. It was kind of creepy, and a little bit sad actually in a way, the more he thought about it. Honestly, he thought that things like animatronics would be long gone on the way out when the gimmick wore off, but that's not what happened with these places. The curtains would still rise, the stages were still set, and the animatronics would just keep on doing their shows to get the most out of the money spent on them even if no one was watching or had been watching for years. He actually went to the first Freddy Fazbear's Pizza place when it was still open, let alone was still standing before the Plex came about. It wasn't exactly in its prime then, in fact the place was pretty worn down and under kept, but he didn't really see that as a kid. The smell of cheese and meat, the blinking lights on the stage. It was the first time he had seen anything like it when Freddy and the other animatronics began singing. He could have sworn that they were looking at him at some point during the song. All of them. Almost seems unreal now, a far away memory like some kind of nightmare or fever dream. Kind of ironic he wound up back here, back in Freddy's in some way.

 The Glamrock show was something else, and it always had a full house. He'd been there a dozen times since he'd started working the floor. Always had to keep your eye out when it came to high energy crowd bringers like this. People didn't sit for the Glamrock show, they stood, they shouted, and they jumped. It was kinda wild to see because after a while, he realized everyone was doing it. Kids, teenagers, and adults were all cheering and applauding when the guitar music started intensifying and that booming voice on the overhead would announce Freddy Fazbear.

The fog machines had been going; the air filled with flashing lines of light. The stage lit up in an indescribable mess of blinking lights and patterns on massive video screens. And then they were there, rising up from the platform beneath the stage and carrying those colorful instruments in their arms. It was always hard to tell which was louder. The music or the screams of everyone around as the animatronics began their song. If there had been one thing magical that was left untouched, it was the awe of watching those animatronic characters perform on stage. When you saw this kind of thing anywhere else, it felt like you were walking into the past, but when the Glamrock band played, it was like staring into the future, only, if the future was still the 80's and was dominated by synth rock.

 He didn't know how they did it. How they made them move and act so lifelike from the way their fingers worked the guitars to the how they danced and swayed to the music on stage. Had they really just been performers in costumes and not machines? Was it really them playing? Eric had thought about these questions the first couple of shows and eventually left that mental note at not caring if he ever found an answer. It just sure was something else watching these impossible characters come to life and perform the way that they did.

The machines moved with the fluid and speed of a human; cartoon-like animals whose designs on their bodies mimicked clothing they could never hope to possibly fit into from their shape and size. They may have been slimmed down and faster than animatronics of the past, but they could still tower over the average Joe. They wore earrings, belts, star shaped sunglasses, and even hats. Things that seemed to never possibly come undone from them even as they stomped around and spun on stage one performance after the next. The way Roxanne the wolf flicked her hair back so naturally, the way those white strands with the green streak flowed was too real to be believed otherwise. How Monty the Gator would tilt his sunglasses down and wink to the audience as his purpled hands danced along the strings of his guitar.

 Eric combed along the outside of the gathering audience. When it came to things like this, the only time you ever entered the crowd was if a fight broke out or someone was gunning for the stage. Short answer on that last point: No one ever made it. Concerts were a beast of their own though still. They had their own motion, their own rhythm and their own sway. Maybe it was the music that got a person's blood pumping or the excitement, but entering into a pit like that was usually a surefire way to wind up with a couple of bruises. Eric wasn't there for bruises, and he sure as hell didn't need any excuses earning himself some that evening.

The stage would draw his eyes back now and again as the bass of Freddy's vocals pounded on his ears. He watched the hatted bear hunch into the microphone, his body animated his every word with every each and every motion he made. It was mesmerizing, yet even still his eyes wandered away to the very last member of the band. The one that Eric always ended up watching the most. Strumming the blue striped guitar in her hands, Chica the chicken rocked her head back and forth. Her eyes closed as if they were listening to the music and nothing else. They spun around on their corner of the stage as if it had been carved out for her and only her. It was kind of funny and kind of cute the way her hair came to slap against her bow and beak again and again, and she didn't seem to notice it once. How could she? She was only a machine after all.

 Though the original Freddy gang wasn't something you would exactly call popular like it was now, there was something so very nostalgic and heartwarming to Eric being able to see them again in a new way. That was the fun thing about mascots and brand characters. How they changed with the times and got built up all over again as if they were growing up with you. Even if you grew out of such childish things. And Eric never expected for one second to see the Freddy gang ever again, let alone the way they were now. There was just one thing. He couldn't help but remember one of the band members being different. Instead of there being Monty the gator there was this kind of purple rabbit instead. Or maybe, like a lot of older memories, he was mixing it up somewhere along the way. The thought never troubled him all that much when it came to him now and again. It was just a childhood thing after all and that was one of those feelings that phased into the background noise of the rest of his life. Besides, it was Chica that he was glad to see there still, even if her design had really changed. Chica had been his favorite and he couldn't really put into words why.

 He hadn't been all that fond of birds most of his life. Actually, Eric hadn't been all that much of an animal person in general, but something stuck with him from Fazbear's pizza that would pop into his head now and again. Something that would make his lips quiver in a small, unnoticeable grin whenever the thought found him.
 
"Let's eat."

Chica was to Pizza what the Hamburglar was to Burgers. A fiend, an absolute menace to anything that remotely looked saucy and covered in cheese. And though her yellow feathers and bulky figure may have gone through a few changes, they still kept her thing for pizza. It was positively delightful and embarrassingly silly how such a thing as a phrase made him feel. But it was a good feeling, and he could live with a little good feeling secret like that. Just as he could live with something far more tangible, far more shameful a secret which he kept in his right pocket, and that would remain so as far as he was concerned. He had caught his security badge on someone's hand, and the strand pulled on his neck sharply before snapping free. Again, you stayed out of the crowd.

 Chica opened her mouth, spreading her beak as she raised her head high on the stage, her eyes opening with it. Vibrant, glowing blue iris's finally met with the audience as she scanned the crowd. Even if she was metal and plastic, you could swear you could feel her happiness in that stare alone. And that was when her eyes crossed in the general direction of Eric's. He expected her to continue looking on. Her body kept swaying, her hands moving and playing the guitar, and even her head was still moving back and forth. But she just kept staring his way. At first Eric thought it was funny in an odd kind of fashion, the thought crossing his mind that maybe she was about to blow a gasket. Mental images flowed across his brain of kids crying and people laughing or booing as the white bird froze up on stage.

He tucked that thought away and moved on the floor again. He'd been distracted too long with memories and nostalgia, and it was cutting into his work. He'd had to pull further back as more people gathered since the show began, and there wasn't exactly any seating to set a limit. The tangles of limbs and screaming in his ear was the kind of exhausting experience that could tell a man he was going to be deaf by the time he reached 30. The firing laser lights from the stage told him he'd be blind by the end of the night.

 The tail end of the crowd signaled Eric back. The music wasn't going to last all that longer but a last sweep wouldn't hurt. When he looked back to the stage to check the show, the man felt a cold wave wash over him in the jolt of seconds, realizing he was looking back into the big blue eyes of Chica. She was still looking in his direction. That kind of uncanny feeling crept up the back of his neck, raising his hairs and giving him goosebumps. He didn't quite know what to think just then. It was nonsensical, crazy even to imagine that machine was watching him. It was an animatronic! Wires and boards, tubes and pistons! They were made just to dance, sing on stage and sell merchandise! It was easy telling himself all that, but it was difficult accepting it as he walked back the way he came. His eyes weren't on the audience anymore now, they were on Chica, and even drawing back towards the middle of the outer ring of rising, waving arms, her eyes seemed to stay connected with him.

It came at his chest hard, the feeling of a stiff shoulder meeting with his rib cage as Eric walked into a man whose snapped attention let Eric know just how unwitting they both were. He had been going a bit faster than he should have, and the collision had enough force to knock a little wind out of him. He did his best to hold in a cough, and failed to hide most of pain on his face then. "Oh geeze, are you okay?" The unwitting man had asked, and Eric could only nod and pat him on the shoulder as he quickly moved on and pulled away from the crowd. By the time he had reached the main lobby, he had been coughing into the radio. Contrary to his somewhat weighted looking build, Eric didn't take hits too well, and he wanted no one, absolutely no one to know that. He needed to do a round around the Plex to get himself back up to speed and forget about what just happened. By the time he reached the top of the escalator, he already had.


=Chapter 2=

 That had been the last show for the night. Half the stores were turning their lights off, and the other half were already closed and gated. Things were getting quiet enough that Eric could even hear the sound of his own work shoes squeaking each step on the floor tiles. Night at Freddy's felt a lot different than it had during the day. You really got to take in the whole atmosphere of the Pizzaplex. Most of the neon lights were dimmed, the bright showcase torches shut off to instead be replaced by a softer, ambient wall lighting. It was actually going to be his first night shift on guard duty in this feverish lit building. His smile was an ambivalent one because the truth, or so he was told, was that the Pizzaplex didn't need night security. No, before 11:00 rolled around, all the staff left the building, and the rest would automate itself. It would, for all intents and purposes, lock its windows and shield its doors as if it was ready for a future where an atomic bomb dropped right down the street itself.

A machine on wheels hummed as it rolled by Eric, just barely bumping him in the knee. Staff bots. There comes a time and place when the concept of technology meets with the implementation to make something serviceable and adoptable. Staff bots were certainly serviceable; they were janitors, store workers, waiters, guest attendants, and even security guards. But they lacked anything that made them adoptable. Eric couldn't go a shift without reporting one malfunctioning or shutting down. That didn't even begin to cover all the counts of property damage the things took. Often times you could find things written on them some place or another. Chewing gum would be stuck in their eyes or other receptacles. Hell, there had been more than one time someone managed to flip one of them on their side. It didn't help either with the way they looked and acted in general being so off putting.

 That's why actual folks still worked at the PizzaPlex. That's why he had the job at all. A lot of time and money went into the technology in that place, but automation could never truly account for the human factor. People are messy, crazy, irrational, unpredictable, and if there was one thing you could take from all that, it was that for every Staff bot, there was one or two people in its place. Technology just isn't ready to handle people yet. Even still, that wasn't entirely the reason why Eric was doing his first night round in the Plex, or even why there's a shift to begin with. It wasn't for the money or the merchandise. It was the animatronics, Freddy Fazbear and the gang. It was hard to believe at first, harder to wrap his head around the technical details. He never saw the machines leave the stage and so he figured they were relatively kept in storage a few floors down below, but that's not how one of the previous night guards put it.

"They let them wander around the main entrance levels and upper floors when the place is shut down at night. Something about Servomoters getting all locked up or something. I don't know what they expect anyone to do if they wind up in a fountain or something. Things are so heavy you can hear them stomping all around the place. Couple hundred pounds on them at least." Alton, a man who was at least a bit less blue around the collar on the security team, had said as much when they were sharing a smoke break an afternoon that week.

 Day shift was the kind of thing Eric was used to, but he had admitted the thought of a quiet evening's work didn't sound half bad either. Only thing was that the night shift wasn't that popular with most of the security staff or so he got the idea.

"I mainly just stick to the security office. No point really wandering around here at night when everything's on the monitor there. Besides...those robots creep me out. You can hear them saying stuff sometimes. Like they're just repeating some voice lines or something. That Wolf one with all the hair and crap, I've watched it just stare at a mirror like it's looking at itself. I'm not saying I've ever had any kind of problem with them, but they don't train you how to deal with them here neither."

It was easy to assume the man might have been screwing with him for kicks but as 10:40 rolled around and the last of the staff was exiting the front doors, Eric had to admit that he got screwed alright. There was talk and fluff about some instruction videos and protocol response papers, checklists and clearance sign-offs and none of that came up since. Even at a place as advanced as Freddy's you still wound up slipping through the cracks one way or another on someone's dime. It was their money.

 The shutters had begun to lower and unfold over the doors, grinding to a halt as they locked into place with the tile floors. He could hear and feel the other exits and doors across the building echo their own locks as if the building itself were having one big yawn to start the night. Eric couldn't help but yawn too and fix his hat as he turned away from the entrance. When the music died off the overhead speakers, that was when the tone really shifted about the Plex. On one hand, after you've had a full shift with loud rock pumping in your ears all day, you're on your knee's thanking whatever god you believe in for just a moment's quiet. But on the other it gave your ears the opportunity to hear nearly each and every inch of the building's ambience. The sound of its settling, the gurgling of pipes behind the layers and layers of walls, the flowing of air through the humming vents that seemed to vibrate and shake a little overhead as they pumped jets of cold air through the fan blades at their ends. All this and more came rushing at Eric. An eerie orchestra playing just for him, and he never thought he could associate such a feeling with the place.

 The staff bots were in full force that night, their wheels whirring loudly as the mannequin-esque segways sped across the main lobby doing tasks of every sort. Vacuum tubing began loudly as they traced along the floor, spray after spray of chemical cleaners blasted off and onto the tiled squares, diligent mechanized hands closely following behind with rags that circled the orange-scented falloff. They were efficient, he could at least give them that. There was an impressive quality to it, watching them go room to room, sifting, lifting, sweeping, dusting, and setting each and every little thing with mechanical, precise detail.

It was kind of calming to watch actually, satisfying even. And after awhile the general noise of the place didn't seem quite as unnerving as it first sounded. Eric was just getting into the idea that it was going to be an uneventful first night as he wandered the staff hallway on the way to one of the break lounges when he reached out to push one of the hallway's double doors. It was pushed open first, the sight of two grey paws with neon green claws easily shoving them in a wide swing, and that was when he remembered the Freddy gang animatronics.

 It had taken him completely off guard, his head and thoughts someplace else as he set himself unassumingly on autopilot, now jolted through utter shock as he nearly walked headfirst into a large pair of yellow eyes, purple lipstick, and a gaping mouth full of teeth. It was Roxanne Wolf. It nearly gave him a heart attack, like pure lightning shooting from his heart through the rest of his body.

"Oh jesu-" he couldn't even finish as he sprang back, dropping his radio on the floor with a loud clatter, its batteries spilling out as the back cover flew a few feet across from them. His instincts were telling him to run, but in his haste he had caught himself halfway between kneeling down to pick up the radio, and staring at the tall animatronic wolf like a deer in the headlights. He had frozen up, and a few minutes later he would feel his cheeks burning with both embarrassment and shame for it. She didn't react in any way to the scene he had just created. Didn't respond in any immediate way that Eric could see, and in that moment it felt like he had taken in a lifetime scanning every inch and detail of the metallic wolf.

 Her eyes clicked as they darted back and forth from his face to his shoes, both ears twitching. Her jaw snapped closed in a single motion before she reached out and pulled at the security badge that hung around his neck.

"Eric, security." A synthesized and feminine voice sprang from the animatronic animal, her mouth whirred open and closed to mimic the words like she had actually been talking. "Are you my number one fan, Eric?" she asked, but his voice had been caught in his throat. He didn't know whether to laugh awkwardly, play along or just stay quiet. He didn't even know if giving an answer would actually mean anything to her. He didn't know the animatronics could talk to begin with. Her digits let go of his security badge to let it fall away and back to him before the wolf stiffened and began moving passed him.

"Loser." her synthetic voice even mimicked a growl as she stomped down the hall and shortly disappeared around the corner. Eric didn't have a single word to say about it. It was true, the animatronics really did roam the Pizzaplex at night.

 Though he had kept his distance, staying behind a few minutes longer in the hallway than he should have, the main lobby had taken on a new life of its own as if just for the machines as he came back out, and they were there, all of them. Neon signs had sprung to action, the lights of the shops turning on and even the music started up once more. Was all of this really for them? He could hear them walking around the Plex, could feel it even with every heavy foot fall they made. Roxanne had been stalking her way towards the display room with its covered windows. He had known there was one made for each character, fasioned exactly like their personalities. He had always assumed that was some future set for interactivity with kids that was in the works. Did they...actually have rooms there? He had just barely caught sight of Monty's tail as the gator wandered into the clothing and accessories shop.

"Hey there, superstar." the voice had come so suddenly, deep and bassy from behind him. Eric had nearly snapped his neck, the speed he whipped his head around to look up into the highlighted blue face of Freddy Fazbear. Like Roxanne, the tall bear's eyes were at first locked on his, then quickly shifted down to his badge.

 "Eric. Are you having a good time, Eric?" Freddy asked. It was surprising how sincere and gentle his voice was. Almost completely different in every way than how he sounded on the stage. His eyes were just as gentle, big and blue. His head tilted, eye brows rose with a soft tick. Even if they were harmless enough, being so up close and personal with these machines still made Eric uncomfortable. It was kind of like getting that feeling seeing someone in a mascot suit. Your first thoughts usually weren't that they were going to do  anything weird, but a part of you just couldn't help wondering what they would do if they could. Like, if you were left alone with them and no one was around to see like they were now. When they put on the suit it was like they weren't really the character, but they weren't also a person anymore either. They were something...left in the middle.        

"Yeah, sure Freddy." He was abrupt and darted his eyes anywhere else. He was just as quick stepping away and making a break for the escalators. He didn't care if all they did was roam around the place. Eric was hit with waves of feeling awkward and weirded out all at once from the short amount of time he had experienced with these things. Alton had the right idea staying in the security office, and that was exactly where he was going to stay the rest of the shift until morning. He had briskly stepped off the escalator and made a sharp turn to the right, running his hands along the railing and glass that gave a complete look at the first floor as he power walked his way towards the office. He could see Freddy down there still, slowly walking towards the bathrooms. He wasn't going to...it wasn't possible that they would give him some sort of function for that. It had been enough to get Eric to stop and watch as the bear took one step after the other, closer and closer to the bathroom doors. For a moment it actually looked like Freddy was going to reach out then go in but he instead turned and began walking the other way.

 It was a humoring and strange thought on its own, but the way the night had been going so far, Eric had to question what the hell the service maintenance crew hadn't been developing with these things at this point. His eyes trailed one last time towards the front entrance before the sound of a heavy bang boomed out across the air. At first Eric thought it was a gun going off; he crouched somewhat along the railing, the glass doing absolutely nothing to hide him, and it sure wasn't going to protect him if another round fired off in his direction. His eyes darted this way and that, trying to check for movement and he had found it. The staff bots were the ones who came first. They gathered from multiple directions, more than seven of them wheeling towards the same area. That was when Eric saw the garbage can knocked over. When he saw the hunched over figure that was Chica, standing beside it. Her arms appeared to wrap around her stomach, her metal body shaking. That cold feeling came upon Eric again, like being splashed by cold water from the lake in winter, because just then that was when Chica saw Eric too.


=Chapter 3=

She just seemed to stand there, frozen as if she were thinking on the next move. Those glowing blue eyes stayed fixated on him, and he found it just about impossible to look away. The bird's white body kept shaking in a way that made her look sick. Her bulky leg warmers wobbled, and her arms shifted back and forth. Then it almost looked to Eric like her eyes widened, like they were growing bigger, and that was when she began moving. Her body had turned away, but her face stayed facing him, the head becoming so turned around, she was looking at him from her back as she stomped one foot forward after the other and the staff bots cleaned the space she had made for them. Eric's heart began to beat hard in his chest, louder and louder as he realized she wasn't walking away. She was heading to the escalators. She was heading to him.

 He'd turned on his heels, only starting the beginning of a run as his right foot met and caught beneath the firm rubber of a wheel. He had nearly toppled over the staff bot he collided with, and he was very much lucky he hadn't as he hit the patterned carpet of the walkway floor. It would have easily crushed his stomach if it had came down on him then.

"A map. Map. Take a map! Map. Map! Take a map!" The dead eyed robot repeated over and over, forcing a pamphlet into Eric's face. He had tried in vain swatting it away but it insistently stuffed the paper into his hand instead. By the time he was back on his feet and looking back, the staff bot had just barely swerved around the stomping chicken feet of Chica. She hadn't just made it up to the second floor, she was near galloping at him, head bent toward in his direction, back hunched as her legs jostled and whined beneath the strain of her hobbling footfalls. The flashing of her wide open blue eyes flooded the back of his mind with images of the staff bots cleaning what would be left of him off the carpets. What would be left of him? One of her arms raised, outstretched and open, grabbing for him. It was enough to make Eric tilt his head back and scream.

 She hadn't been more than thirty feet away as he stumbled backwards, tearing at the carpet and nearly losing a shoe as the man began to sprint for his life, possibly experiencing the last moments of it. Even still, he knew he hadn't gotten that much ahead of her, the way she had been coming at him. He could practically feel her feet right behind his, and he imagined her hands on him, reaching out again and grabbing him by the shoulder, tearing muscle..digging in deep. Hands like a zombie's death grip. And then she would eat him there on the floor, a piece at a time while he was still alive.

Let's eat.

Eric'a vision had been dark when he shot into the security room. He hadn't known how he made it, how he had gotten ahead and away from her. His head had been a blur of images he couldn't process, his chest heaving as he sucked in air between his lips before he let out a series of coughs, losing every bit of what he had managed to take in. His hand, clammy with sweat slapped wetly against the eerie green led glow of the Freddy shaped button on the wall. It flashed a bright red as the door came down hard and sealed him in the room. His pulse hadn't gone down one meter; hell, he could have fired off a stream of blood from a vein in his neck from just how high his blood pressure had risen by then. He had to back a few steps away from the door, turning to the security desk computer. His hands had began darting for the keyboard and hitting the enter button repeatedly until the series of monitor screens started up and lit the dark walls of the room.

 He checked one after the other, eyes straining from one blurry feed to the next as he tried to catch a glimpse if Chica was somewhere in any of it. He couldn't find her. Not on A7, A3, B4, B9, she wasn't on any of them. That was when he had looked to the window near the door. When he saw those glowing eyes, the shaking head. She was outside looking in, watching him. And it had never occurred to Eric until that very moment why there was just about no staff there at night. Why the entrances and exits were locked so well. Why in that office he was standing in, pulling back behind a desk chair, a metal door stood between him and the security access hallway as it did now. They weren't keeping people out, they were keeping the animatronics in.

"H-heeel-el-el-el-eeelp....m-m-meeeeeee-eee."  He heard her voice carry through the glass. And with a loud thud, she fell forward and out of sight. The air had grown silent again, all but the beating of his own heart in his ears now. He'd fumbled with his hat, wiped the sweat off his forehead and coughed one last time as he drew closer to the window. His heavy and hot breath fogged the glass as he pressed into it, shifting his head left and right. He couldn't see what, if anything at all had been there. But he knew she was there. He began to hear it, the strange rhythmic tapping at the bottom of the security door. The sound of a muffled grinding and...crying?

 His hand had drifted to the security button, hesitated and hovered. The mental imagery flashed of him laying there on the carpet, and the mechanical bird's hands scooping bit after bit out of him. He stood there and continued to listen silently to the crying. He had taken in one deep and final breath before his fingers limply pressed into the red button. It went green. The door raised.

The animatronic chicken was quite a sight. She sat there, leaning over on her knees as her body rocked back and forth, twitching and shuddering. Her voice wasn't just a melody of crying, it was full on sobbing. Her head turned his way and her beak opened.

"I think I ate something bad." her tin voice said sadly before the crying started back up. He didn't quite understand, but Eric began crouching towards the floor as he cautiously drew nearer on her level. He tried to see what her hands had been covering all that time, straining in the dim light of the hallway.

"Can you-ou help me?" She asked through a series of artificial sniffles.

 "I'm...not sure exactly what to do. I'm not a technician or..."

Her hands had pulled at her abdomen, and with a loud snap before a series of clicks, she twisted it cleanly open. He fell back and knocked his head on the door frame as it came spilling out of her onto the floor. Trash.

Wrappers, straws,  bunched up paper towels and half eaten pizza crusts. All this and more poured out in front of him. She had been eating from the garbage cans. She probably would reach in and stuff whatever she could fit into her mouth. All to wind up the way it had now, caught in the depths of her circuitry. Eric couldn't begin to wrap his head around it. Why program her to want to eat? Why even make it...possible? Was she malfunctioning or was this some kind of sick joke written into her.

His skin was absolutely crawling as he pulled out a soaked end of a plastic bag hanging out from her stomach. A couple of pink spoons, a half folded sticker, and some fries came along with it, joining the rest of the mess on the floor. But he could still hear a grinding sound coming from inside.

 "I'm going to need a minute." he had said before heading back to the desk and absolutely bathing his hands in glob after glob of sanitizer. A box of rubber gloves had been in the bottom drawer, and though they leaned on the tight side, it made things easier as he cautiously reached further and further up inside her stomach cavity. By the time Eric had removed the last empty bag of chips, he heard her chest shudder and produce a series of clicks.

"That's normal...right?" Eric asked, and Chica looked at him with a nod of her head.

"Very normal! Thank you so much! Now I can eat again!" her voice had sounded entirely different. Cheerful, vibrant, and full of energy in contrast to the troubled and scared one she'd just had. She flipped her hair back, the large green earring blocks clacking against the sides of her head as she sealed the section in her stomach and sprang back to life. It was strange but at least it wasn't scary, and Eric felt great relief in that. He could take strange any night especially when he felt like he'd just lost ten years off his life from everything he had gone through.

 On her feet and standing she was nearly a foot taller than him. Her head tilted and her beak opened, revealing a row of painted metal teeth, and it looked like she had been smiling, or was at least trying to smile. At first she looked into his eyes but quickly pivoted her focus to the ID badge that hung around his neck.  

"Eric. I have seen you before, Eric. Many times at our shows." The confirmation that she had recognized and remembered him was something both worrying and in a very odd sense, flattering to Eric. She really had been watching him at the shows. Any other time he would have found himself more troubled by the implications, but Eric's heart had enough of that for the night.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm at most of the shows." He chuckled awkwardly as it fully dawned on him that he was actually seeing Chica up close this way for the first time. He hadn't realized that the pink bow on her head had been metal. Just how sharp the studded spikes were on her arm bands. The way her hair was divided in three parts. Even if all she had been was a colorful cartoon automaton, there was still this kind of dreamlike feel to the moment for him, like he wasn't really there or that any of this was happening. It still was Chica.  

 "Would you like to eat with me, Eric?" Chica had asked with a raise of her brows. Her eyes fluttered open and closed with every word, her lashes bounced and bent.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, you eating all of,uh..." his voice had trailed off as he gestured to the trash on the floor "...this. You really shouldn't."

"Why is that, Eric?"

"Well because you'll just go and mess up your...you could get sick again, very sick. And I could lose my job." He had caught himself in the midst of biting his tongue. He was actually worried about hurting her feelings, calling her a machine.

"Oh...a job. Yes, that would be bad..." Her tone had a hint of sadness to it. Her eyes had looked elsewhere for a moment, as if she were thinking distantly. "I would be very sad if I could not perform on stage. Especially when Roxy and the others need me. Okay Eric, I will not eat this." she mimicked the way he had gestured his hands a moment ago. It was a relief. Maybe that would mean something like this wouldn't end up happening again to some other poor bastard on night shift.

 "We can have pizza instead!" She cheerfully announced. "Pizza with friends is the best, and you are my number one friend today!" he had let out a gasp as her metallic hand reached out and took hold of his. He had anticipated his bones being crushed in her vice like grip, but Eric was surprised to find just how delicate yet firm her grasp was on him. It was...warmer than he had expected. Still hard as metal but not as cold. Before he could even say a word she had already began walking, taking him along with her. He nearly tripped, one hand on his hat as the other was held tight by Chica. It was a scene. An entire spectacle. And you'd have to see it to believe it, the sight of this tall white bird in bright leg warmers and a leotard, dragging along a security guard out of the hall. Maybe she really was malfunctioning. She didn't seem to register a word he said to her, and no matter how much he begged and pleaded, deep down Eric knew they were going to have pizza that night.
=Chapter 4= 

The pizza kitchen had been something else. The humming buzz of the ceiling's pale white lights illuminated the red and white check board floor. White brick walls mostly hidden behind shelf after shelf of sealed and half opened boxes. Rows of bulky, heavy-grade metal boxes fixed in-between sinks and cutting tables, punctuated by the colorful, child-like signs that hinted what they were made for. The bright, vivid tubing and cables attached here and there to the food oriented tools seemed out of place compared to the bare, spartan nature the rest of the room had. Like the security office and most of the other staff sections of the Plex, the kitchen hadn't been built with humans in mind; the way such minimal touches of posters and paint were afforded, it was clear that living workers wouldn't be a part of it for long. It was a bit off-putting to say the least.

 Chica did not appear to see any of this as she excitedly clamored around the room. Her suit had sounded loudly with mechanical stirring and whining as her head snapped left to right, straining to scan every little detail of the place. The air had been swimming with the pungent smell of chemical pine, barely having masked the aroma of oils and fats that had clung to the walls. No matter how precise the staff bots had been, that smell was never going to leave that room. Eric's leg had moved aside as a smaller, yellow colored bot silently glided by his feet and out the door. He had caught the symbol of a wet floor warning on its back before the red door closed behind it and left him alone with Chica once more.

The soreness in his wrist had been subsiding thankfully since she had released him. He rubbed it diligently as he stared at the food stations like a patron might at a museum or art exhibit. With all the money and technology that had been afforded that place, you would have thought the kitchen would have too been automated like nearly the rest of it. The only food that could and would ever be made there would be pizza. The sound of metal clanking against metal sharply filled his ears as Chica clapped her hands together and closed her eyes.

 "This is the best! It is like pizza heaven!" The bird practically swooned over the place. It hadn't been anything all that special to Eric. In fact, there were plenty of other places in the Plex he would have preferred to have been right now.

"Yeah, it's something else." He humored her at least. "It's a nice kitchen. Glad we got to see it so we should head back to the main lobby now, yeah?" Her head tilted as he said this, expressing her genuine confusion.

"Oh no, Eric. We will not find pizza out there. It is in here!" She opened her arms and scanned her head back and forth to look at the room once more as if that somehow was the actual issue. "So. How do we make it?" She asked with a smile. He couldn't help but laugh a little.

"I don't make pizza here, Chica. I barely microwave it at home. I'm just the security guy." Her brows lowered and her eyes became half closed as he told her this.

"So we cannot...have best friends pizza then?" Her voice had become a sad, metallic whisper.

"Well, no."

Whoever had built Chica had been the devil themselves for having given her the power of guilt she could produce, because Eric was absolutely swimming in it as he watched her facial expressions, limited as they were, change as her body animatedly lowered as if in defeat. He could not believe how quickly he had felt bad, even if he knew he was doing the right thing. It was right, wasn't it? His eyes darted from station to station, eyeing up the backlit signs of each machine. He wasn't a cook by any stretch of the imagination. Eric could practically burn a bowl of cereal if given the chance but it didn't look that it could have be that hard to make a pizza. He could not believe he was actually considering this.

 "...Not without finding some dough first. You can't make a pizza without dough, right?" Her eyes fully opened up once more, her mouth hanging open in silence before snapping shut. She stood tall again and nodded her head, her hair slapping against the front of her face.

"Yes! That is very important! How else can you eat the crust then?" She said with a giggle that sent a small shiver down Eric's back neck. It felt nice to hear her do that.

Making a pizza at the Pizzaplex wasn't anything like you would see in movies or tv commercials. There was dough alright, or at least what Eric had assumed was dough kept in the freezer. It was a large walk-in, and for good reason. All that space had been made for shelves of similarly sized boxes labeled "Dough-Plate-Product004", fitted with frozen, pre-made discs in sealed, see-through plastic. It wasn't exactly an appetizing start for Eric as he wondered just how many preservatives and god knows what else was in the thing. Chica on the other hand watched him closely, excitedly following him as he set the exposed frozen Frisbee on a round metal tray and took it over to the first machine whose sign read "SAUCE". The staff bots hadn't done the best job with this one. Faint red markings and crusted on splatters made it almost look like a murder had been committed on the thing. There were three illustrated buttons, three tubes. A simple enough layout to grasp even for Eric, but it troubled and confused him as he stared at two of the buttons. One appeared to be a picture of what he assumed was a purple tomato or eggplant, and the other was a green ball he wasn't sure was even a vegetable.

 His finger pressed the first button of the red tomato and the machine began to rattle.

"You know," He yelled over the loud sounds of the machine as it began shaking. "I probably should be wearing an apron for this, but I'm sure it'll all be-" The sauce had came out before he could finish. Not in a fine drip but in a goopy mass, a spray. It gave the dough a messy, saucy covering in a matter of seconds alright. It also got plenty on the machine and a helping amount on his uniform in thick, unnaturally red globs. "...fine." he finished as he reached for a rag in the sink.

The cheese station spat spirals of the stuff through an industrial fan, and Eric had to yank the tray away before the pizza drowned in the amount that spilled out.

"Ooh, that looks good." Chica complimented as he left behind a small hill of cheese at the station. The meat machine was probably the tamest of them all so far. Thick slices of pepperoni falling onto the bed of cheese below. "Can we make it double pepperoni? That is my favorite!"

He had to pause at the machine that said "NOT MEAT" before moving along, already having seen more than enough. By the time he had set the tray in the oven and closed the door, Eric had just about lost his appetite. He had eaten the stuff plenty of times on his shifts. Now he wasn't sure he wanted to ever again. The hot breath of the oven poured out as the door opened once more. The smell of hot cooked meat and cheese wafting through the air as a closed pizza box exited out of it. It had been less than a minute. Where had the box come from, and where had the tray gone? He nearly dropped the box as he gripped it; the cardboard had still been hot to the touch.

 "Pizza time!" Chica just about yelled, her vocal speaker fuzzing up in her. "I know just the perfect spot we can eat it!" She pointed to the far end of the room towards a section that had been cut out for what was quickly becoming an obvious reason. It had been a trash compacter. A large metal plate sat securely from the ceiling, another on the interior wall to shove whatever got flattened beneath it through a dark chute door.

"I don't think that's the best idea, Chica. It's not, uh, sanitary."

There weren't any chairs in the Plex. It wasn't the kind of place that people sat around in, or at least that's not what the owners wanted. As a visitor, if you wanted to take a seat, you did that when you got back to your car. For the rest of the staff and Eric, the employee lounge was a veritable haven for sore legs and butts everywhere. Tall wooden tables with just as long white chairs filled the area of the room with the cabinets and fridge. On the other end there had been a well sat in love seat and couch. When you had your lunch, you were set. Ten minute breaks though? Forget it; by the time you opened the door to the lounge, you were lucky to make it there with six minutes left, tops. That's usually why he ended up taking his smoke breaks out at the entrance front to begin with. Eric sat at the table and opened the box. Watched as the steam leapt out and filled the room with the strong smell of a perfectly sliced pizza.

 He couldn't believe he was having a late night dinner with an animatronic, never mind the fact she was actually going to eat.

"You know, this is technically stealing. But I think we can let it slide this time." Eric chuckled as he reached for a slice he wasn't sure if he was going to eat yet.

"Oh no! Did we do a bad thing, Eric? I do not want to get in trouble. What if I cannot play on the stage anymore? Freddy would be so sad-"

"Chica, I was joking. It was a joke. No one is going to get in trouble." At least that's what Eric thought. He'd leave a sticky note and some money by the registers before the night was out to be on the safe side.

"That was a very mean joke, Eric." she giggled and reached for a slice of her own. "I am relieved."

"Well, let's eat." She tilted her head as he said that. "Hey, that is my line!" she giggled again before stuffing the entire slice she had grabbed right into her mouth. He couldn't help but watch as her metal teeth mashed the oily, cheesy cut before vanishing down inside her. A pepperoni had fallen out of her mouth and onto the table, and she pinched it between her fingers before tossing it back in with the rest.

 "Do you even taste that?" She paused and looked up to him, blinking a series of times. Her blue eyes tilted up and down, left and right. He swore he could hear a light buzzing coming from her as if her mechanisms were heating up from trying to process an answer.

"Yes!...No. I think I know what pizza tastes like. I think I know what pizza feels like. I...would like to feel things, many things like pizza. It is warm, soft and good. I love food! Everyone is so happy when they get to eat. With others too. I am happy right now because I get to eat with friends like you, Eric." He hadn't expected her to put it that way. Up until that point he mainly saw Chica as more of a cartoon character. A simple, boxed set of emotions and responses that had their limits, and she probably still did, but for that brief moment she seemed so thoughtful to Eric. So real.

"Are you happy too, Eric?" She asked as she grabbed another slice. "Yeah I..I guess I am, Chica." He realized he had been smiling then. That night had sure been something of a roller coaster, but it was nice being there now with someone, even if that someone was just a robot of some kind. He wasn't used to it, being with most people. Between work and just trying to relax on his time off, Eric found the idea of going places to meet someone, places like concerts and bars with more music, more noise, more people, to be draining enough that we would wind up stuck to his couch back home. He had people he could rely and count on at his job, and it wasn't like they were all robots to each other. He smiled when they smiled; when they said hi or waved, he waved back. There were great people at Freddy's, but they weren't friends. That's probably why he felt in that same moment he was happy, that he also was loser who was so starved for an actual friendship and connection, even an animatronic would do. He took a bite of his slice. It tasted like it always had.

 "Can I ask you a question too, Eric?"

"Sure, go for it." Chica leaned closer in over the table towards him. "Who is your favorite band member?" She asked in a whisper as if there were others in the room that she was afraid would hear the question. It took him off guard and he laughed, choking lightly on the pizza in his mouth. Before he could answer, she rose again, her brows turning in a way that made her face look sad. There was that smile on her beak still. "It is Roxy, right? Roxy is everyone's favorite. She is the best!" He tried to answer her but she went on.

"No wait, It is Freddy, right? Freddy is so caring and kind and brought us together. He is the leader of the band after all. Everyone loves his voice!"

"Chica-"

"It is Monty. It must be Monty. He is so confident and strong. Who would not like Monty when he-"

"Chica, stop for a second!" and she froze up, her mouth closing as her eyes centered on Eric once more. "Yes, I have a favorite band member, and I'm willing to show you something but if I do, you can't tell anyone. It stays a secret. Okay?" She nodded without a word, and that was all he needed to reach into his right pocket. His car keys jingled as he pulled them out, and as he held them infront of her, that was when Chica saw it. A cartoon-esque illustration of her holding a guitar, cut out in her shape and laminated.

 "It is...me? I am your favorite?" It was strange how shocked she sounded about it. "I am your favorite?" she repeated. "Yes, you're my favorite." he slipped it back in his pocket. "I am his favorite." her voice was as soft as a whisper. He hadn't almost heard it over the sound of her chest plate whirring.    


=Chapter 5=

He hadn't known what he expected after the impromptu dinner. Maybe for Chica to wave goodbye, say so long and then wander her way someplace in the Plex while he went his. But she followed him back out onto the second floor. He didn't mind it either really but he wasn't sure what else to say. Chica had been silent ever since he had shown her the key chain, and Eric thought her face might have been stuck since her expression had remained in a wide eyed smile. He couldn't see any of the other animatronics on the first floor. The staff bots had moved onto another section of the Plex it seemed too.

"Hey Chica..." he had began.

"Yes Eric?" Her voice even in its muffled, tinny way, almost sounded flowery to him now. "What do you and the others do when the show is over?" He had never been on the lower levels, down beneath the ground floor. But he had always wondered now and again when he would catch sight of someone who was from there. You could always tell who worked below levels by how they dressed in collared suits. Professional cut and often very quiet people that usually didn't mingle with anyone else. Some of them were from Illumix. They had the same developer symbol on their id badges that more than half the machines in this place were branded with. Others were probably outside hires. But clearly there was work being done down there, and there were enough people coming in and out to give the idea it was busy work.

 "Well. Sometimes I sleep. Sometimes I spend time with Roxy. Sometimes I think." She struggled to provide the words she needed. "You think? About what?" And she stopped in her tracks. He turned to find her searching the carpeted floors before looking up at him again. "Dreams. I sit in a chair, and then they open me, open things in me. They plug in wires, ask me questions, and then show me images, places, feelings, sounds, and dreams. I do not hear or see it but I can...think it." She didn't sound like it made sense to her. It didn't make much sense to Eric either. Maybe that was how they monitored and updated the animatronics.

She sounded almost bothered by it the more she thought about it. He wasn't so sure if that was a good question to have asked. "Hey." He gave his hand a wave and she looked back at him. "I have an idea. What would you say to going to the arcade?" Her mouth opened in a smile, and that was an answer enough for him.

Unsurprisingly the arcade had been on just like everything else had been that night. Lights pulsing and flashing swirled along tubes of bulbs. Blurry screens with flying jets and race cars played images of crashes and explosions. You'd have to strain your ears to be able to pick up on the sounds of just one of these games as they all melded together in some amorphous ball of childhood memories and headaches. Blue lights on the ceiling made the various patterns on the carpet pop out as if they were glowing. Eric could see the sauce on his uniform stand out, and when he looked at Chica, he found parts of her were glowing too, just like her eyes. He wasn't sure what to walk on up to or if Chica was even capable of playing games. He arched, looking around and trying to land on something in that neon lit hell scape of virtual fighting figures and token flickers. That was when he saw the basket ball hoops on the back wall. It was perfect.

 "You ever play Basketball?" he had to speak up over the sounds of gunfire and rockets going off.

"No, Eric! What is basketball?" her voiced had raised too, maybe just to mimic his. "I'll show you!"

Things were quieter in that part of the arcade. Not perfect but quieter. He could still feel the bass of the games pulse on the carpet beneath his feet. Arcade basketball wasn't the most popular thing for most kids. You usually went to the arcade to get your allowance's worth with game cabinets you couldn't possibly have in your home, but dreamed you could. They didn't really make a whole lot of prize tickets off them either if that was an option. But it was easy to figure out, and Eric needed something easy about now.

"So you see those balls behind the line back there? Those are Basketballs. What you do is, when the game starts they all come rolling down to you. And that basket there, there's a timer above it and you've got until it runs out to throw the basketballs into the hoop."

"I think I understand. That sounds like fun!"

 It had been years since Eric had ever fed a couple dollars into a change machine. The quarters spilled out the small flap and he counted them out as he came back. "Now, what do you say if we make this interesting? A kind of versus or rivalry."

"You are saying...you wish to fight me, Eric?" Chica asked in a shocked tone and he laughed, shaking his head. "No, no...well. Something like that, but it's supposed to be in a good way. Fun. Like a bet for example. Whoever gets the most points would have to give something."

"But Eric, there is nothing that I can give you." He paused, hearing that and had to think on it. "Alright. How about...if I win...I get to play your guitar for ten minutes." She arched her back, placing a hand over her beak. "You want to play Miranda?!" Now that was interesting.

"You named your guitar?"

"Doesn't everybody?" It was a sincere question coming from her. "Alright, Eric. If you win, you can play Miranda." She giggled and closed her eyes. "And what is your bet, Chica?" Her eyes snapped open again. She stood stiffly straight up and began tapping her chin, the metal clanking repeatedly. She turned away from him, turned back. Her head looked up, at him, to the floor, then back again at him. She had been saying something but the sounds were too loud, and voice too low. It looked like she was talking to herself.

 "If I win, I can have something. Whatever I want?" Her voice sounded excited. "Yes...within reason!" he quickly added. "I can't get you all the free pizza you want. Like I can afford it." She giggled again and shook her head. "I understand, Eric. No, I do not want free pizza. If I win..." she paused as if she had locked up and stalled for a moment. "...If I win, I want your help with a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?" And she shook her head, waving her finger at him. "It is a surprise, Eric. I cannot tell you!" She reached out her open hand to him. "Do we bet?" He smirked and grabbed her hand as they both shook on it. She leaned in closer, still having a hold on his hand. Her eyes closed halfway as she looked into his face. "I am going to win, Eric." She sounded a lot different then. Playful and confident. "We'll see."

He slipped the quarters into the machine and gestured his hand to a small red buzzer. "Since you're so sure, ladies first." he stood aside and she stomped closer. She looked down at the buzzer then up at the hoop. Her hand gingerly clicked the buzzer and a fake air horn rang on the front speakers. The balls began to roll down one after the other and she picked one up. He actually worried that she might actually throw it so hard she might break something. She threw it and into the net it went to the artificial cheers of a audible crowd. She looked towards Eric, her brows raised high as she smiled, and turned back to throw another.

 Eric had expected Chica to do alright at least. Maybe ten or twelve points. As the counter went down to the last ten seconds, she had made twenty seven hoop shots. He rest both hands on the back of his head as he took in a deep breath then loudly sighed it out. When the buzzer went off, in all Chica had gotten 38 points. "Is it over?" She asked, sounding disappointed. "How did I do, Eric?" He laughed at the question and looked away. "You did...uh..not bad, Chica. Not bad." She smiled and backed away from the machine. He knew it was his turn now.

He stepped on up, put in the quarters, and looked back at her one last time before he hit the buzzer. "Back in the heyday, I used to be the champion of arcade Basketball, you know."The fake air horn started, the balls rolled down, he took one in his hands and made his shot. It hit the rim and rolled off. "Well, it's been awhile." he said as missed the next two shots after. He started getting into the groove of it and making most of his throws through the hoop, but before he knew it, the buzzer had gone off and the score showed exactly how it went for him. Seventeen point. He lost big time.

 Chica's hands clapped excitedly as she swayed her hips back and forth, knowing she had utterly crushed him in her victory. "Best two out of three?" he asked but she shook her head and waved her finger at him again. "Uh, uh, Eric. I have won the bet. Now you have to help me with my surprise." He shrugged and smiled. It was worth a shot at least. "Alright, Chica. What is this surprise you keep telling me about that you need help with?" She tilted her head with closed eyes and a smile. "I will show, Eric." He hadn't expected her to reach out just then as she had. Her metal hands taking hold of him as she drew closer. His feet lifted off the carpet as she hoisted him in the air and took him into her arms. It was all so sudden that all he could do was sputter as he found his arm around her back and the other on her chest plate. "Chica- what are you doing?!" he managed out, his heart beating hard in his chest.

"I am carrying you, silly Eric." she proudly said as she turned and began walking out of the arcade, taking Eric with her like the human adult equivalent of a purse."Really, you don't have to do that, I can walk-" he tried to tell her as he futilely attempted to wiggle upright and out of her grasp.

 "But I have won the bet, Eric, and I need your help for the surprise. You will like it, I promise." He shook with every step she made, looking around for possibly somebody, anybody, somehow to be there and make this stop. It was just like when she had taken him to the pizza kitchen. No matter what he said to try and get out of her hold, it would not do him any good. When they had gone through the first floor's staff halls, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he knew where she was taking him. At the far end at the very back there had been an elevator. It was what the people who went down below took. As they neared it, he could see the ID badge receiver that kept the doors closed. There was no way they were going to open. If he wasn't with the blue collars, he at least had to have level three clearance like any other part of the Plex.

Chica gingerly took hold of his ID badge and pressed it to the receiver. It flashed green, and the elevator doors opened. Guess they hadn't updated that part of the system yet. She carried him in, the small lift shuddering under the combined weight of him and her heavy legs. She pushed the button "C1" and the doors closed. "Chica-" Eric had tried one last time to talk to her. "Are you going to hurt me?" She looked at him, eyes flicking open and closed.

 "I won't hurt you, Eric. I'm your favorite, right? I could never hurt my number one fan. And tonight you're my best friend, right?"

And the elevator began to descend.


=Chapter 6=

There didn't seem to be that much of a difference between the first floor and the below at first. Both had the same kind of lighting, the same kind of walls. But the speakers weren't as good. They were quieter, muffled as if music had been all the more distant. The floor didn't look any different, any less clean. There was a weight in the ambience however. Something you could only tell when you were stuck in a room that was bricked in. The halls seemed to go on and on, and for Eric it felt like an eternity as he shook in Chica's arms. She had told him she wouldn't hurt him, but how could he really be so sure? What if she did something to him, something she thought was good but in reality would hurt him...kill him. She had taken his badge and held it to the receiver next to a metal grey door. Nothing happened. She tried once more pressing his ID badge in and again nothing happened. Maybe this was the end of the line finally, Eric hoped. The third time was the charm as the panel chirped and lit up green. The door clicked open and onward Chica went.

 The room they had entered had been a strange one compared to the last. They passed through dozens of monitors in a row. Filing cabinets tucked neatly beneath one long, grey slab of a table connected to the walls. Black desk chairs all uni formally pushed in. It had looked like an office, if an office was made into one long hall. Wiring and keyboards filled nearly each and every inch of the free space on the desks. What did they work on all day down here? He didn't have much longer to think on it as she pushed open a door and walked them into darkness. They had stood there for a moment in silence, the sound of Chica's internal mechanisms buzzing in Eric's ears, and his soft breath filling the air. The pale white glow of the led lights overhead flickering on were enough to make Eric shut his eyes from their sudden harsh reveal. He'd rubbed his eyelids and squinted, looking around a large room filled with wooden crates. The walls and floor here had been concrete, stained with the long dried puddles of various oils and fluids. It clearly was not a place that was prettied up like the others. There were tables with mechanical arms, in between heavy looking wooden boxes. Blank monitors on wheel stands squeezed wherever they could fit, their cables wrapping and bent around each other.  

 It was like a workshop. A room of tools and bolts, wiring and metal panels and it was all there, haphazardly laid out the way it had been in neglect. Some things look practically discarded or thrown in there. Maybe it wasn't just a work shop. Maybe it was a scrap shop. She had finally let him down before walking towards the other end of the room. Her shoulders and hips bumping loudly against the crates. Eric had looked to the door then. She was far enough away now that he could make a bolt for it. Chica's head turned, and she looked at him, waiting for him. He knew how she could run. Even if he made it out the door and down the hall, she would still catch up to him. It was his fate now to see what the animatronic wanted him to see.  

He didn't need to follow her for long before he finally saw what she had brought him down there for. It was a body. Not an actual body, more like a suit. It looked like Chica in every way but it was different too. The face was more naturally shaped. Its eyes, closed, were still the same size but seemed less like holes cut out. Actual hair done up in a pink bow, hung over the side of its head. A closed beak with what looked like lipstick on its mouth end. Smooth combed feathers trailed down its arms and legs. The legwarmers were real, the leotard with the shoulder pads were real. This Chica...she looked real. As real as something like Chica could get in the world. It had been on the floor, arms at its side and head hanging down with its back to a crate in an unceremonious display.

 "What is this?" Eric asked as he looked to her and she looked to him. "It's my body, or...my other body. The one they wanted me to have, and then they didn't." She said with a step closer to the other body before sitting down on her knees on the floor.

"I don't understand." and she reached out to touch at the feathers on its arms. "I do not think I understand either, Eric. It is hard to remember. Being in this body. I...felt...things. I felt hot, I felt cold, I felt soft, I felt hard." He slowly came to sit next to her as he took in this other Chica. "This is the surprise you wanted help with. You want to be back in this body." and she whirred as her head tilted back and looked up at the ceiling. "I know I cannot for long. They do not want me to. But I want to. I want to feel something tonight, Eric. Not think I know, but feel that I know."

"I'm not sure how I can help you, Chica." He admitted as he rested a hand on one of her cold shoulde rpads. "What was this surprise even for?" and her head turned to him with a click. "It was for you, Eric." but he still did not understand. "I see...images when I look at you. I see things I want to do, but do not understand. When we ate pizza, when you told me I was your favorite...I could not stop these images, Eric."

 "What did you see, Chica?" Eric asked, and she froze up again as her chest plate whirred. She had leaned closer to him and closed both her eyes. He felt the cold end of her beak meet with his lips if only for a fleeting second before she pulled away. "I saw that, Eric. It made me happy. Does it make you happy?" Eric was stunned by what had just happened. His brain could barely begin to process what was going on. Chica had kissed him, or at least he believed she had kissed him. Why had she done that?

His mouth barely hung open as he searched his thoughts. His heart beat hard, rushing and coursing every little chemical through his body like a jolt of mental, emotional, and physical signals, and it was overwhelming him. His mind was a blaring race of thoughts running each and every way here and there. It hadn't been the first time Eric had been kissed by someone. But it had been a long time since he had been, and it certainly hadn't been by a chicken or machine. How was it possible for Chica to even grasp or process the idea of kissing someone, or knowing what a kiss was at all?

 Why had it been him? Was it right to be feeling the way that he did now? Because deep down past all the worry, all the confusion, all the thoughts of how strange and abnormal this all was...there was a piece of something he knew was there and couldn't ignore. It did make him happy. And he admitted that much to her there and then. He had said it. Some therapist out there was just going to love him for how much time he was going to need to unpack all that some day.

She had laid back on one of the tables, looking up at him with the same smile. He didn't know if he really was the right guy to be doing any of this. What if he broke something? How it all might come back to Eric and they would see what he had done. He wouldn't just wind up fired. He could wind up in prison. What if he broke...her? It was as if she could articulate the expression of worry on his face. "It will be okay, Eric. You won't hurt me. I'm your favorite." he couldn't help but exhale loudly through his nose with a small grin. There was way more to it than that. But she wanted his help, and he knew he wanted to help her.

 "I will walk you through it. Please go over to my other body." It wasn't long until Eric was crouching over the other Chica, seeing just the amount of detail and work that had truly gone into it. How it looked like each and every feather was set by hand to be just...perfect. He was beginning to get some idea why it had been scrapped. It was almost like a one to one replica of the human body. Even with the feathers, he could see how naturally she was shaped. As if she had toned muscle and yielding tissues. Bones and more. How much did this cost to make? How much would it cost to maintain? There was only so far your money could be spent before you needed a return, and the kind of money that had been spent on everything to begin with was something Eric could imagine he could live off until old age, seven lifetimes over. They were crazy enough to have made this. Crazier to have discarded it as they did.

"Please lay my other body on its stomach. You will need to remove the chassis entry cover located on its back." Eric did as she instructed, and was surprised by just how light its limbs had been. How soft the feathers were as it lurched forward and was assisted onto its side. He had taken a hold of its legs, turned them lightly as he gently maneuvered the body onto its stomach. His cheeks were burning as he felt her legs. They turned red with shame as some part of him enjoyed feeling them. Had he really been so lonely that the thought of Chica, her legs and more...he stopped himself from looking, even thinking anything else. She was still a robot, still a chicken. But more than that, she didn't deserve him thinking of her in...that way.

 He'd had to pull the leotard down a little, revealing just how much thinner the feathers had been on her back. He'd pressed his fingers into them, felt along the crease until he found a finger sized opening. With a tug it began to lift, and soon both his hands were pulling off the panel, revealing the complexities of the tightly compacted exoskeleton beneath. No inch of room had been spared for how tightly packed the mess of silicons and plastic sections were made. Every fraction of it had a purpose. It had to for the sheer sophistication of it. This had went beyond state of the art. It was art.

"There is a small square opening in the upper cavity towards the chest. That is where my NPD will need to be inserted, Eric." He couldn't see what she had meant. Cautiously he had drawn his hands inside it, lightly pressing at the various pieces of light tubing and alloys that littered her insides. They parted so easily around his touch, and the feeling made a shiver run up his spine. He could barely see it in there, but there had been a small square opening with a golden or copper underside.

 "Yeah, I see it, now what?" He had asked before a loud sound of something hard popping made him bolt upright. At first Eric had thought that he had damaged something, maybe knelt on something, but it hadn't been anything he had done. Chica had removed her chest plate and set it aside on the table. As he drew closer to her once more, he could see the dark, metallic exoskeleton beneath. It hadn't been anywhere near as advanced as what he had seen in the other body, and this all but confirmed his initial suspicions. " Please take my NPD, Eric. Her hand had raised and pointed at a small grey block with red lines. Small led lights that surrounded it flickered green, and he could hear it clicking and whirring. Was this was made Chica, Chica?

It had been awkward for him reaching in as he did. When he felt the box in his fingers, he just about had about pulled away. What if he pulled too hard? What if he damaged her? Her hand had come to rest on his own over her chest opening. She didn't say a word. Just stared at him. He gave a worried smile and gripped the box. It didn't require that much force as it popped free from the square housing it had been in. The led lights that had surrounded it had all gone red. All the ticking, twitching, moving components within her stopped in an instant as her hand slipped off his and her head fell back to the table, eyes having shut. Her mouth hung, open and limp. It was as if he had killed her.

 Eric's steps had been quick to bring the small cube to the other body. Just as gentle to part the strange insides before lining up the NPD with the square opening before pressing it firmly in. Nothing had happened. He pressed it just a little more then sat there. Watching, waiting, unsure with his heart pounding in his ear. All at once it had started. Her legs had jolted with a little kick. Her neck twitched, and nearly every feather seemed to raise on her back as if she were having goosebumps. He fitted the entry cover once again over her back, and he could feel as he pressed in, her pushing back until there was a satisfying click. Her hands both rested on the cold cement floor before her arms bent and she pushed herself up with a sigh, having come to life.

She had turned her head to him, opened her eyelids to reveal her big blue eyes. They hadn't been glowing, and they looked so real to him. They looked beautiful. Her beak turned in a smile, the purple lipstick on the end shaping like a heart, and her entire face could show how she felt in every detail.

 "Thank you, Eric. It is good to feel this way again." No longer had her voice been static or tinny, but so rich with feminine vocals that he could hardly believe any of it. He sat there kneeling next to her, and she reached out to touch him. Her hand brushed against his cheek. Her fingers were just as warm as his cheeks had been. His face was turning red. She had drawn closer to him, keeping her fingers pressed gently to his face. "Can I do what I wanted to feel, Eric?" She looked into his eyes, and he into hers. He didn't say a word, but he also didn't stop her as Chica leaned in and brought her beak to his lips.

It was softer than he had expected and seemed to bend a little as she pressed it affectionately to him with the soft sound of a kiss. Her feathers seemed to raise on her shoulders, her chest rising and falling as if she were really breathing that moment. The kiss had ended and they both stared at one another without word. She kissed him again and he reciprocated as the white feathered bird brought her other hand up to Eric so that she could hold them against both sides of his face. Was this really happening?

 He shivered as she pressed more insistently into the kiss, tilting her head as her beak parted and he felt her tongue trail across his lips in a hungry lick. It hadn't felt like a real tongue per say, but it was firm, warm, and wet. It was almost instinctual that he gave a little lick back. Warm air from her simulated breath rushed over his face from her beaked mouth, and Chica had made a soft chirp, a happy, pleased one as she felt Eric's tongue brush against her own. It had been everything she could have dreamed it would feel like, and it felt so good. She could not concentrate, could not function or process how to act next. Chica had no idea at all, and something about that made it all the more special to her.

Her tongue rubbed along his lips again and slipped into his mouth. Eric had let out a grunt from this, and she could not help but grunt too. It felt good making these sounds. It felt good to touch him and be touched by him this way. She did not explore his mouth with the most grace. Her tongue was sloppy as it slid along his, touched the roof of his mouth and anywhere else it could find. The sensations made her thoughts jumble and divide. The only logic she could follow was being closer to him, somehow, some way. Her chest pressed to his, her arms sliding over his shoulders in a hug.

 She fell back, and Eric followed as she took him with her to the cement floor. The cold feeling on her back mingled with the kind of heat the rest of her body had been feeling. His weight came down on her, and she gasped into his mouth. Eric had snapped out of the state of mind he had been in and pulled back and off her. He breathed deeply and wiped his mouth of the fluids the two had shared. "I'm sorry-I didn't mean...did I hurt-" But she had tugged him back on top of her. Her beak parted as she drew him into another deepening kiss. That was all the answer she needed to give him. She had loved the way his weight had felt on her. Her legs had spread, wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer to her, interlocking the two together. If her ciruits had gotten any hotter, she was sure they could fry.

Chica had felt his hands all over her. Run along and slip beneath her feathers. She could practically feel his nails drag along her arms and back. When Eric had brushed one hand against her chest, it was as if she experienced short circuiting. She brought his hand back, and pressed it more insistently against her to feel it again and more. But it could feel better, she was certain of this. She had unclipped her shoulder pads and pulled at the straps of her leotard. The pink fabric easily stretched as she began drawing down both sides. Just enough to slip her arms through. Just enough to pull it down and reveal her light, feathery breasts. When his hand was on her then, she let out a sound that Eric could only describe as a bawk.

 She actually had breasts, and actually had nipples too. Had her entire body and design just been based off a human model then done over? Maybe it had been something else altogether before it was roped into ultimately what it had become and been scrapped for. Eric's mind was not thinking about such things. He was flustered, hot, and completely enamored with Chica. He had never done this before. He had been kissed and he had done exactly as you would expect a lonely man and the internet to do if left alone long enough. But he had never experienced this intimacy before. And as his body and mind got worked up more, he began to wonder. If she had breasts, was it possible that she had...?

Chica had broken the kiss with a loud pant. She had brought her arm to the back of his head and buried his face into her neck. She could feel him breathing against her synthetic skin, and arched as he kissed at her and brought his head lower towards her chest. When she felt his tongue brush against her nipple, it was like lightning flowed right through her, from her head down to her talons. His mouth cupped around one of her breasts as Eric's hand massaged the other, and Chica's eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her vision flickered, voice began to cut in and out. Her throat began releasing chirping, each one higher and higher in pitch. And then she felt it. Every fine muscle in her body seized up and contracted as she found herself tightening her legs around Eric and grinding her crotch against his. Where that lightning seemed to spark most.

 Her mind nearly went completely white as she began panting out words that did not even make any sense. "Eat me, Eric!" she kept repeating, louder and louder. And then Chica experienced something she had never known she could experience. One big, trembling, tingling release of absolute pleasure, and her systems all over her body couldn't process it. Was this what it felt like to truly be alive? Her hands gripped tightly onto Eric, her body spassming in pure ectasy, and Eric had realized exactly what was happening too.

Then Chica's vision went black.

=Chapter 7=

Her eyes snapped open. It had only been less than a minute, and her body was still tingling. Every sensor in her was buzzing in an indescribable way. It was satisfying at first, as if she had just finished a full course meal, but as the tingling faded, that heat returned. It felt hotter, and Chica wanted to feel that buzzing all over her again. Wanted to experience again whatever it was she had just felt. Eric had been bent over her for that entire minute, and he blew a sigh of relief as he rubbed his forehead. She smiled up at him and he laughed a little, unsure of himself.

 "I was afraid that you...that you had somehow broke or..."

"Do you know what happened, Eric? It felt very good. Was that bad?" Of course it wasn't. At least that's what he hoped so anyway. He couldn't begin to understand how it felt for her, being a machine. But she had told him it felt good so maybe it wasn't as dangerous for her as he thought.

"Can we experience that again, Eric?" she had asked, but in that same sentence, her hands were already at his arms, prompting him closer to her. "Maybe we should take things a bit...slower this time, Chica?" Eric asked her timidly. "Yes, Eric. We can do this slower." her voice was a flowery whisper as she leaned up to him to bring her face close to his and parted her beak. She hadn't understood what he meant, and as the familiar sensation of her synthetic tongue pressed against his lips, Eric quickly forgot about it too.

The room had filled with the sounds of their passionate embrace. The brushing of fabric against the floor, the clacking of green earrings. The air around the two warming from both of their mutual hot breaths that were already growing louder and more needful. Every sensor that had been in Chica's body for the sole purpose of the Plex, was now exploding repeatedly as if a fireworks show had been going off inside her. And it was all meant for Eric.

 He hadn't felt like this before. Not in this way. It was intoxicating for Eric as if the entire world had faded away and the only thing that seemed to exist was Chica. Every part of her sent shivers over his body and static into his mind. Every little chirp she let out, every gasp of her breath and flick of her tongue; the firm and almost possessive grip of her hands on his shoulders that let him know she did not want him being anywhere less close to her. All the last fleeting thoughts of her being an animatronic faded away along with the rest of any reservations and hesitations Eric had left in him. He had practically melted into her and given up to all the feelings and sensations he was experiencing for the first time, and it was Chica who was giving him all of it.

She relished the return of his hands on her. Eyes half lidded and flickering through their kiss as she felt him begin to massage one of her breasts again, her nipple being brushed between his palm and fingers. Her chest rose into his hand, her leg slipping around him as she pressed her body into his with a shudder. She was sad when his hand had left her chest, but this was quickly forgotten as she felt it trailing lower down her stomach. Down to where everything in her surged to.

 She had felt his fingers through her leotard as they brushed curiously and sensually into her crotch. Eric had felt it too, and he wasn't in the mind to be surprised as he felt the crevice beneath the fabric, and pressed in more firmly to feel the smooth lips of her most intimate part. It felt like silicone. It was enough to make Chica jerk from the overwhelming sensation. Her tongue buried itself in his mouth, and Eric coughed from the sheer sudden force of it. She had pulled back from him as he coughed again.

"Oh Eric! I am sorry, did I hurt you?" He had been breathing heavy, looking dizzy, but he was smiling, and his timid laugh was reassuring to her that he was at least okay. "I'm fine, Chica." he had said between the last of his coughs. Chica couldn't help but giggle too. She had looked down where he had touched her, and then looked back up to him. She wasn't sure what there made  that spot so sensitive, so absolutely hot to the touch. But she wanted him to touch her there again. Silently Her hand pulled at the leotard there and bunched it aside as she revealed the full sight of her electronic femininity to him. The short feathery mound had been precise in every detail that you would expect. Smooth whitened lips that looked indeed that they could part. The trouble had even been taken to work out the fine details of her clitoris.

 It was shameful just how excited the sight of it had made Eric. How hard his heart had been going as another part of him stood just as painfully hard. "Are you sure you want to do this?" The tone of his voice had been timid, and Chica smiled.

"What is it that we would do, Eric?" She honestly didn't know, he had realized. "Well I...this...two people who really like each other doing..." He looked away and whispered softly as if someone might hear. "...sex."

"Do you like me, Eric?" Her question was an earnest one, and he nodded silently. "I like you too, Eric. I like what we are doing. So..." her legs had spread a little more as if to punctuate the point. "Please do the sex?" He couldn't help but laugh hearing her words and her expression became one of confusion.

"You do not wish to?" And that look of confusion became one of relief as she felt his hand return to her crotch. "I do." Eric had said shyly as his fingers pressed into and felt along her warm folds. Her chest began to rise and fall faster as his fingers traced along her entrance, and the sensation as he felt the strange small button around it was enough to make the bird let out a series of pleased sounds. Chica hadn't expected the idea of anything inside her internal mechanisms to feel like anything, but When she felt him slip into her ever so delicately, she seized up again. Her internal walls closed around Eric's fingers repeatedly as if trying to pull them in.

 Chica had made a sound she was unsure made sense to her. It had been a moan as if she had been hurt, but this was anything but that. It had felt wonderful to make it. She lifted her crotch, pressed it to his hand to feel his fingers go deeper into her hot and wet depths. When he pulled them out, the dragging sensation made Chica shake. Was that sex? She could not think further on it as his wettened fingers slipped back inside her. Her eyes had nearly rolled back inside her head again as they moved in and out of her in a rhythm. She hadn't even noticed that her breath and the sounds she made began to match with the rythm of him fingering her. The images in her head became insistent again. She wanted to touch him like this.  

"And you have one of these too, Eric?" She panted out, and he stopped, much to her dismay. "Well, not quite...it's, uh, I have a different kind of thing." Her head tilted as she scanned his eyes. "Would it feel good for you as this feels good for me?" He wash bashful but nodded. He had been taken off guard as she began unbuttoning his uniform. His voice caught in his throat as she undid them, one by one. He watched as she leaned her head in lower, and realized that she had licked at one of the pizza sauce stains.

 "Yummy." She whispered. And then she licked Eric's neck. "You are yummy too, Eric." his chest had been fully revealed by her handiwork. He hadn't been exactly what you would call fit. Eric wasn't fat, but he didn't work out. He sure as hell didn't eat the kinds of foods that were healthy for you especially when most of his lunches came down to a slice of pizza and soda. So he had a little bit of a belly on him. Being so vulnerable as he was then, Eric was timid to this fact and half expected Chica to just laugh at him or be off put.

She didn't laugh; she didn't say anything. Her head leaned down once more as she dragged her tongue up his chest, her hands already pulling at and undoing his belt buckle. When the final button had been undone, his zipper came down along with his underwear, and it was enough to reveal his manhood to the cold air and Chica's gaze. It was a curious sight for her, but not an unpleasant one. She took in the sound of Eric's sharp breath as her fingers curled around the head of his shaft in a feeling grip. It was surprisingly hard, but it was also soft. It almost looked like a mushroom, the kind you would have on pizza. It made her hungry just looking at it, but this was not the same hunger for her that she had for food.

 She stroked it, feeling how hard it was all over, and listened as Eric shuddered and moaned for her. She loved it, and she had made the connection and understood now; it was as if everything lined up perfectly. He felt good there, and she felt good where he touched her.

"Can we feel good together, Eric?" She leaned on him, laying him back on the floor now as the white bird easily straddled the man. He knew he didn't have to answer. They had both already known that it would be yes. Chica had certainly been far lighter in this body than her other one. If it had been her former, he would have been crushed easily. She had hovered over him now, swaying her hips as if in anticipation that they both shared. She had gripped him by the head of his shaft again, lining it the smooth, feathery lips of her entrance, and began to ease herself down onto his length. She was slow; she did not want to hurt him. All the servos and mechanisms in Chica clicked and whirred audibly as she felt him going inside of her. Eric couldn't even feel the floor anymore, all of his attention and bodily feelings on the act they were both about to do.

 Her depths seemed to resist him at first, the inner walls tightening around him as if they were milking Eric. And he slipped deeper in still until he bottomed out in her and her crotch met with his as if in a carnal kiss. He had fit her perfectly, and Chica had no words. Her entire body had been stiff, taking in the sensation of being so full down there in such a way. She wanted to keep experiencing it again and again. This was what sex was, and they were both experiencing it for the first time together. The air filled with both their mutual moans as she lifted off him only to lower once more and drive him fully back in.

She could feel his grip tighten on her hips as she stuffed him back into her only to pull off as if he would slip out of her altogether. But she wouldn't let that happen. She would force him back in, her pace quickening as the two of them found a rhythm in the pale white lights. He groaned for her, and she moaned for him, one thrusting down and the other up to join their bodies together in warm, wet slaps. She ground into the helpless man, feeling him twitch inside her as he ground the inner most depths of her intimate circuitry. Chica was nearly bouncing on him, steadying herself with both hands on his chest. The way he had been looking up at her was almost dreamlike to Chica. How his eyes looked at her with such love and want. It was far more intoxicating than the stares any crowd had ever given her on stage.

 It was more than enough as she felt that feeling again. Like sparks running up and down her back, rushing through her, and how much more blindingly good it felt the second time with Eric inside her. She could not form words or speak. Her hair flying against her face with each and every bob of her head as she thrusted as if instinctively against him. The way she rode him, Eric knew he wasn't going to last through her vigor much longer either. She was practically burning on the inside as she humped his crotch with a quickening, unreal speed. Her voice cracked up, beak hanging open as that lightning filled her every thought and rushed throughout her body from her erect, white nipples down to her soaked folds.

To Eric it had looked like the pink patterns on her cheeks were glowing, along with her big blue eyes. She came down on him, hard and fast, wrapping her arms around him to hold in a crushing embrace. He hadn't cared, being pressed down further on his back as he shifted beneath her. His hands had found their way to her soft, feathery rear and held firmly only both cheeks with a firm squeeze. She had burried her tongue in his mouth again, letting him thrust her roughly down onto him as he let her thrust her hungry wet appendage nearly into his throat.

 And that was the end for Chica. Her hips bucked erratically, threatening to break apart even as he touched all the right spots inside that cried out for more. The room began to spin in her vision, the tingling returned, and it felt to Chica as if the entire room were quaking but it had been her, and only her. Eric could feel her body rumbling, surging as if the electricity were flowing right out from her and through him too. She let out a scream into his mouth, her vocal processors breaking up and cutting off as her systems trembled in one great explosion of pleasure and bliss. Her back arched sharply, head turning towards the ceiling as she grew overloaded and overwhelmed.

Her inner walls seized up as tightly as they could on Eric who kept thrusting into her, completely absorbed as he felt himself on the cusp of an orgasm. All she could see was flickering and static as her upper body shuddered, her black brows twitching up and down on her face, her arms hanging limply at her sides. But her hips still thrusted back to meet with his with the loud and wet squelches of their passion as Chica rode out the unending waves of bliss that were crashing all on top of her. Half garbled moans escaped from her beak which hung open and let her tongue hang loosely out the side.

 Eric's eyes closed tightly as he felt it coming on him quickly. His hips bucked into her as hard as they could, his shaft delving in and out desperately before Eric experienced the greatest damn orgasm he was sure he would ever experience in his life. He nearly yelled, trying to hold back his own cries of unimaginable pleasure as he came inside her. Even in her state, Chica could feel the hot and sticky mess pump deep inside her. She hadn't understood, but it was if her body had. She clenched around his length, milking each and every ounce of what Eric had to offer as he emptied it all inside her.

He wasn't sure if he was about to have a heart attack, the way Eric had been panting as he finished, trying to suck in every deep breath of air that he could. His vision blackened and his head was spinning as his body twitched, coming down off the world shattering experience they had just shared. He couldn't believe that he had actually done it. That they had done it. How any of this had happened so naturally and what would become of it. Would anyone find out? Would he face a whole world of trouble that could follow him the rest of his life, all for having given into his desires for a rock star chicken with leg warmers and earrings? Was it worth it...?

 Chica had flickered back to her senses. Her body tingled all over, and this time she was absolutely satisfied and stuffed. She giggled as Eric moaned, his shaft slipping wetly out of her. She sighed, untangling her legs from his before resting on him. It felt nice, feeling the heart beat in the chest of her number one fan. And when she looked towards his eyes and smiled, Eric had known without a doubt that all of it had been worth it.


=Epilogue=

The Pizzaplex's lobby had been cleaned to the point you could eat off your own reflection on the floor. Of course you would have to had been messed up in the head if that was how you chose to spend your nights. Maybe Eric had indeed been messed up in the head, considering everything him and Chica had done down on the below floor. Again, some day long out there in his life, a therapist was going to have a field day with Eric Tanson. But he could live with that for now. Chica's loud steps echoed alongside his as they made their way to the center stage of the Plex. Her bulky form had looked just a little cleaner after Eric had taken a wash job to the oily residue of the pizza he had to get out of her.

 They had set her other body back to the way they originally found it, and while the feathers certainly looked ruffled as if it had gone through the world's largest hair dryer, there were at least no stains. It would be their little secret, and Eric hoped it would stay that way.

The other animatronics gathered from around the place, heading back to the stage that would bring them back below before the first show of the day would start. Freddy had been the first to make it on stage, and waved to both Eric and Chica with a smile, his brows both raising. Monty had been there second, shortly after. He raised a thumbs up to Chica and gestured for her to come on stage. She had started to before she turned and looked at Eric. "Thank you for spending time with me tonight, Eric. I had a lot of fun." She towered over him still, her eyes snapping open and closed with each click. "Will you be my number one friend again tonight?"

He smiled and looked down at the carpet. "I uh...this was kind of my test night shift. I don't know if they'll let me have it again, Chica." She did not say anything. "But even if I'm not there, I'll still be your number one friend. You're the best, you know." He laughed as he said it.

 Her chest plate whirred and she leaned over to him, tapping the purple lipstick end of her beak to his lips. It felt cold, but it still made Eric warm up all over. "You are too, Eric." Her head tilted and her beak hung open in a smile.

"What was that?" Roxxane had been observing as she stomped towards the stage. Her head stayed glued to the two of them. Chica giggled and followed behind her onto the stage. "He is a boy, who is a friend, Roxy."

"Whatever." Roxxane and had growled, not understanding at all what she had meant. Chica waved to Eric as the stage had begun to lower now, and he waved back until her green gloved hand vanished out of sight. "A boy who is a friend...did she just say I was her boyfriend?"

He was utterly exhausted by the time he had made it to his locker. His body was sore all over as if he had just gone through a drying machine on full tumble, and his lower back was killing him each step of the way he had taken. The way he was feeling, the backseat of his car was sounding like the perfect bed right about now. He had grabbed his cellphone to check his messages and found a text. Just one. It was from Alton.

 "Can u cover late shift tonight" He leaned his head into the lockers and chuckled. Yeah, he would do it. Alton had no idea just how happy he would be to do it too.

The shows had taken on an entirely new meaning for him each time they played. Because Eric's eyes, even as they checked through the crowds for all the trouble and all potential messes waiting to happen, they would always eventually fall back on Chica. And the way she played the guitar seemed all the more animated to him now, even personal as her eyes would always find him in the crowd. She was his favorite, and Eric would eventually learn he was her favorite too.