Alone With Them

Soooooooooo...about sticking to my schedule...

Let's just blame the holiday--HAPPY LATE THANKSGIVING EVERYONE! (If you celebrated it, I guess XD)

"Hey Chick," Bonnie said, his robotic voice somehow carrying a calm tone.

Chica's face flashed across the window before she stood feet away from Cathryn at the open door.

Cathryn itched to block the animatronic out before she could enter, but she knew it would only be postponing the inevitable. Instead, she shook her head and focused on how Bonnie's normalcy was making her feel stupid. He spoke like this was a friendly get-together and that Cathryn's heart didn't have the right to scream in her ears.

Chica's attention briefly darted to Bonnie, her expression blank, before it turned to rest permanently on Cathryn. It was almost like the bird was trying to look away but was too hypnotized to move. She almost seemed to be trembling, which was giving Cathryn terrible flashbacks of the night before.

Was she really doing this again?

"Well that's boring," Bonnie announced when no one responded to him. "She hates it when I do that."

"You have an issue with nicknames," Cathryn grumbled inaudibly. She realized it was probably stupid to say after the words left her lips, but luckily, Bonnie didn't seem to notice.

"Well?" Bonnie glanced over to her. He gestured insistently forward with the jerk of his head. "Before your shift is over."

Cathryn struggled to force saliva down her parched throat, gripping the metal pole. She was sweating. One glance at the computer monitor reminded her she'd only been in the building for 45 minutes. Time was cruel; her work had just begun, and she was already exhausted.

She reluctantly crept forward a few steps, her eyes locked with Chica's. The bird's cupcake was nowhere to be seen, but her confetti "Let's Eat!!!" bib still seemed overly festive for the occasion. Cathryn was split between laughing at it and throwing up.

Bonnie let out an impatient, robotic grunt that helped Cathryn to focus on rolling her eyes rather than her adrenaline and the bile rising in her throat. Of course, since Freddy wasn't here to rush her Bonnie was more than happy to take his place. Great. Because the situation wasn't hard enough already.

"You can do this," Cathryn muttered. It was kind of pathetic that she needed to give herself encouragement with every step. She could feel both robots' stares boring into her as she focused on dragging her heavy tennis shoes across the floor. Her injured hand was throbbing to the beat of her heart.

Cathryn was about two feet from Chica when she finally managed to raise her arm, the pole half-braced as a sword. Her hand clutching the heavy weapon was trembling and loose hairs stuck to her forehead. Chica's stench finally entered her lungs.

How was it that each animatronic managed to have its own defining scent? Of course, they all reeked of food and body odor just like the restaurant, but up close, Chica smelled suffocatingly of rot. It made it hard not to cough, and Cathryn's eyes threatened to water. Did no one ever clean these stupid robots?

Cathryn breathed heavily through her mouth and wiped away some of the cold sweat on her face. Somehow in the dim room, it felt like she was melting and freezing at the same time. Her vision tunneled as she focused on Chica's closed mouth. Cathryn had to get to her throat.

"Hi Chica," she whispered, almost wondering if the bird would talk back. She didn't.
"Could you . . . ? I'm not going to hurt you." The statement was probably true. Cathryn definitely didn't have the upper hand.