Here we go. My first real SAI drawing. We'll see where this leads. Hopefully I can make something great out of these. The story for the picture follows below.
As a desperate attempt to get the chain back on its feet the owners of the Fazbear group decided to bring back the classic animatronics. It’s well known that merchandise with the original bots had become extremely popular. They became a topic of obsession by not only the older generation but also the much younger ones. The notoriety these four gained was a blessing in disguise. Attempts to bring back the original group were pitched every month but were quickly shot down and ignored. Recently the idea was finally approved. With reluctance the papers were signed and the plan jolted into action. With what little the marketing budget allowed, the word spread like wild fire.
The re-introduction of the original four became a trending topic on the internet. Much like drive in theaters or milkshake bars the present generation saw them only as forgotten fragments of a better time. As their parents and grandparents talked highly of their own childhood, the desire to experience such a simple yet irreplaceable activity burned deep within them. The dark events that took place were nothing but folklore now. Just like any war or tragedy, time slowly ate away at the devastation year by year. The threat that was once real is nothing more than something to talk about. Businesses looked highly at Fazbear’s strategy, risking PR for high potential in profit. Companies from overseas even attempted to reserve their slice. The owner however, was less than thrilled. He was in fact, terrified.
None of the four were ever activated and contact with any of them was strictly forbidden. As most of the sales came from a young adult demographic the experience quickly became dull. The only other reason to go into the restaurant was the arcade games and the sub-par pizza. Most of the customers complained about not being able to interact with the animatronics and instead came home with a picture of them and a blurry animatronic in the background. The desire to relive their false nostalgia was never met. Sales began to drop again and it became very obvious that unless these robots were activated again, Fazbears would once again face bankruptcy.
The slight surge in sales gave the company a bit more funds to work with than what they were used to. The board suggested getting the animatronics repaired and polished up without taking away their original design. After a few months the company could not find any place that could even attempt to work on the animatronics. The classic models took parts that were rare even back then. The only chance the company had was to ship them overseas to a manufacturing plant near Shanghai. The risk of theft was considerable and to have the appropriate repairs done was very costly, not to mention the logistics. Yet this the only option that provided them with a modicum of hope. Finding a reputable shipping company that was willing to provide the appropriate accommodations for the animatronics was a grueling task. Using Maersk would cost nearly all of the recent profits made in the first place. Hanjin specialized in shipping animatronics but refused to take any ‘volatile machinery’. APL, much like most other American logistics, required a huge amount of legal work and insurance making the costs even more expensive than Maersk. The only company that was willing and affordable was Evergreen Marine Corp. Most of the board opposed using EMC as they were afraid of the Animatronics being stolen or returned in a worse condition than before. However, time was quickly running out and there were no other options.
The entire process was surprisingly quick and painless. The truck arrived at the restaurant in the morning and the driver attached each animatronic to an old metal frame. The owner looked on as Foxy, Chica, and Fazbear rolled down the metal ramp and were lifted into the truck one by one. The driver was messy but no doubt experienced man. He was short and round yet solid as can be. With each step a puff of breath escaped him and disappeared into the brisk morning air. A tattered plaid scarf fluttered around his neck like an old flag that had seen too many battles.
The owner stared on as chill ran down his spine when the last animatronic was rolled out. The early morning sun reflected off of Bonnie, exposing a series of tiny scratches and faded stains. The driver wheeled her to the side of the truck and walked over to the owner leaving her behind. Confused at first the Owner was relieved to find that it was only Delivery forms that were handed to him. The driver looked at him as her forced a smile and signed the papers. “You look a bit shook up. I heard the rumors about this place. But don’t worry buddy, I won’t let anything happen to em’ they’d probably kill me if I did hah!” The owner looked up slightly annoyed but more tired than anything. He muttered the words “Have a good day” as he handed the clipboard and flimsy plastic pen back to the man. As the driver made his way back to the truck the owner directed his gaze to Bonnie once again. Condensation began to form across the animatronic. “Please stay asleep” he said under his breath. By the end of the week the animatronics were packed into a corner of a shipping container heading across the Pacific Ocean to their first destination; Hong Kong.
PING! a sharp metal noise echoed throughout the container. Bonnie’s eyes lit up providing very little illumination. She could barely make out anything in front of her. Her vision was limited to a blur as the metal frame she was restrained to was wrapped in a think clear plastic. She felt uneasy but not panicked. She became very nonchalant after Mike had left Fazbears for a security job at the Undertale Waste Disposal Company across town. She listened carefully as to figure out what room in the restaurant they had moved her to now. Expecting the familiar creaks and moans of the establishment or the familiar noise of a crowd, she was shocked to hear… nothing. Bonnie listened harder and could made out what seemed to be static. A loud PING! Echoed throughout the container once again. The sound of metal hitting metal. Confused Bonnie attempted to reach in front of her but found that her arms and legs were bound to the metal frame by thick rubber straps with Styrofoam between them. Annoyed at this point she jolted her arms forward snapping the two straps apart. She grabbed the clear plastic and ripped it to the side. The noises of breaking Styrofoam and stretched cling film were amplified throughout the container. She thrust forward snapping the straps that held her legs to the frame. Bonnie fell forward tripping off the lower lip of the frame with one foot and crunching a block of Styrofoam with the other. Annoyed at this point she found her balance and took in what little she could see. Thin plastic wrap hung around her shoulder like a cheap toga. She was covered with thousands of tiny white Styrofoam balls from head to toe. Thinking that this was a stupid prank that Chica may have tried to pull she listened for her familiar childish laugh and would jump in its direction ready to maul her.
Bonnie didn’t hear the familiar laugh or any of the usual noises. Instead she heard water. She heard waves. The slight outlines of boxes and machine parts were tightly packed together. She realized that this was no room she had ever been in before. She realized that she very well could be alone. In a mixture of confusion and anger Bonnie scrambled over the tightly packed cargo. She felt her way to the top pushing newly boxed televisions and digital equipment to the side. She struggled to properly move as it seemed like the entire floor was rocking back and forth. Throwing her off balance with each step she took. Tumbling forward she met what seemed to be a set of metal cargo doors with her face. Waiting for the remainder of the boxes and random packages to fall on top of her she stood still trying to understand what was in front of her. To her left a bight glow in the dark handle could be seen. As it was the only form of light outside of Bonnie’s luminescent eyes it shined brightly. A beacon of hope she supposed. She shuffled over to the left side of the container pushing the fallen cargo to the side. Metal on metal could be hear directly outside the door. The sounds of a thick metal chain swaying side to side on a hollow iron box. As Bonnie reached the glowing handle she could read the words “EMERGENCY ESCAPE” printed atop of it. She now knew that she was nowhere inside the restaurant and felt a feeling she had abandoned long ago. Excitement.
She pulled down hard on the handle. Metal could be heard sliding across the bottom of the doors in front of her and ended with a loud yet satisfying clang. As the container shifted to left in its rocking motion the left door parted with the right and swung open. Bonnie was met with a huge gust of freezing wind and wall of rain. Much like entering a room filled with music from the outside. The sounds that were once no more than muffled static came into full clarity screaming into the partially opened shipping container. She stood in awe. She felt amazed but scared. There was nothing but the boat she stood on and the stars above. Rain pelted down upon her hitting every inch of her and collecting in the plastic toga at her feet. As the boat began to rock back to the right the left door slammed shut inches from her face but in return swinging the right door open. Frustrated she kicked the door back open all the way this time. It swung open on its hinges and slammed against the outside of the container. The cold wind blew inside the container with force. Plastic and Styrofoam danced across the hollow box. She looked up at the stars. Bonnie never dreamed of seeing so many. Even when the sky was filled with rain the sheer amount of stars was amazing. The ocean was nothing more than a black horizon with hints of foamy white waves. She sat atop the ledge of the container, several container high and watched. This was the first time she felt content.
Time passed and the ship finally made its way into Hong Kong harbor. Several time Bonnie had to position herself in a corner as to not be seen from below. The impressive skyline glistened in the warm and humid night air. Mountains of shipping containers partially blocked any view she could possibly have. Loud machines and truck horns could be heard all around her. She knew that leaving the container would accomplish nothing as she was an animatronic. Yet staying inside gave no assurance of safety either. She wondered what happened to the other three and if they woke up as well. She searched her container every day after she awoke but found nothing but curved TVs and random mechanical pieces. In the back of her mind she cared and hoped they found safety as well as awoke to see the beauty of the outside world. Yet she knew that at this point any progress she would make would have to be solo. Each day that passed the amount of containers in front of her lessened. It was only a matter of time until someone saw her open container. She waited until dark and jumped the six feet gap between her container and the top of another directly in front of it. Each step she made gave of a deep clang from within the burgundy container she stood on. Much like a video game her escape was made by jumping from different colored large boxes until she made it to the main platform of the ship.
With years of experience, hiding and moving in the shadows came easy to her. The oblivious and almost indifferent nature the dock workers had also played into her favor. In no time she found her way into the back of a large blue delivery truck. Red Chinese characters were printed along the side. She had no idea where it was going or what she was going to do when she got there but the feeling of newfound freedom to decide her own fate fueled her more than ever. Possibly even more than Mike? She paused in that moment. The truck moved forward knocking her onto a pile of boxed oranges. The realization that she will never see Mike again hit her like a ton of bricks. She could feel herself seizing up and the familiar spike of pain returned. “m- Mike MIKE” She screamed. But her screams fell on deaf ears as the diesel engine and Cantonese pop blared ahead. Bonnie ran towards the back of the truck in an attempt to rip open the back doors. Just like the shipping container she fell face forward onto the metal floor after slipping on the countless oranges that were now scattered across the back of the truck. Flat on the floor she sobbed into her makeshift fruit pillow.
Muffled voices could be heard just outside the truck. The loading doors opened illuminating the back of the truck. A cloud of citrus slowly crept out into the late night air as the middle aged worker looked on at the scene in front of him. Crates of oranges, durians, and pineapples were crushed to pieces. Fruit was scattered about on the bed of the truck. A pool of mixed fruit juice and cardboard filled the center. Laying atop the small pond was a purple animatronic rabbit. She looked miserable and was unlike anything he had ever seen. More concerned about the he began to yell. Bonnie awoke face first in what seemed to be orange juice. She looked up to see what was happening. A middle aged man with his hair dyed gold on the top was yelling at her. A faded tattoo of what could barely be made out to be a tiger and dragon on each side of his skinny chest. His tattered blue denim jeans was held up by a belt with a change sack attached to it. He was yelling furiously at her in a language she could not understand at all. However, he kept his distance and she could see he was unsure of who or what she was. She slowly stood up, juice dripping off of her as if she had just emerged from a magical pond. She towered over him as the truck was already a good three to four feet from the ground. He paused slightly then continued to scream at her in Cantonese. She stepped out of the bay of the truck with a slight hop. Even without the truck she still stood a good foot and half over him. Bonnie sighed and thought about what she should say. She stopped herself knowing that the angry man wouldn’t understand her anyway. She felt lost and in a way hopeless.
She no longer cared what would happen to her if found and hiding was already out of the question as the man had already drawn a slight crowd of three other older Chinese men. She looked to the shadows beyond him. She stood in an empty yet well-lit street. Outside of the small group before her no one was to be found. It must have been at least 2am. The buildings on either side stood tall above her. There was no building less than 15 floors tall. Signs protruded from each side of the narrow street displaying various characters for the shops below them. Each shop seemed to be closed as what seemed to be the entrance to each was locked up with a large metal garage door. The air was hot and humid. The sky was a faint black tinted by the light pollution from the street. She began to make her way in a calm manor towards the angered man. He kept his distance much like two opposing magnets but he still managed to continue yelling at her. Just across the one lane street was a dark alley littered with straw brooms and baskets. Trash bags and metal carts all pushed along the side of each wall. She could hear the truck start and speed off onto a main road much farther down. The three who gathered all began to drift apart rather unfazed by the commotion. Unsure as to why no one made any attempts to stop her she stared on as they walked away. The culture is very indirect here she thought to herself.
Making her way from one dark alleyway to the next she came across the entrance of what seemed to be another narrow one lane street. However, this one was filled with closed market stalls and boxes. It was quiet and cluttered giving her both peace and some security. Just before the markets entrance was a large red truck parked on the side of the road. White letters spelled out ‘WELCOME’ and were followed by two yellow Chinese characters. Two men seemed to be unloading boxes from the truck into the store behind it. WELCOME was printed directly above the well-lit store. As she began to walk closer she noticed that it was a grocery store. Neither of the two men took much notice of her as she made her way into the open. Every now and then a red taxi would speed by or a small pill shaped bus. None of which slowed down to pay her any attention. Still faced with her conflicting emotions she wondered if this was a good thing or not. The dread still hung low within her but the thought that maybe this is the best outcome for everyone began to surface. Miserable yet amazed by her new environment she slowly walked towards the truck fully exposed. As she neared the truck rain began to pour down from the sky with a loud roar as it pelted the ground with force. The two men lifted their shirts above their heads and ran inside the store seeking shelter from the water. The weird mini pill buses rumbled past with a hissing noise from the wet pavement. She looked to her right and saw the boxes they were loading inside. Most was fruit and dried noodles. Cases of Carlsberg and Blue girl were piled towards the entrance. Directly at hip level was a crate of gin. Twelve bright blue bottles stood upright looking directly at her. She looked up to see one of the two men on his phone, the other was reading horse racing statistics in the newspaper. She promptly grabbed the box and ran along the side of the truck reaching the market entrance.
She knew that she was an animatronic. She knew very well that getting ‘drunk’ was impossible. Yet she also knew that alcohol dries things up. She entered the market and was quickly shrouded in darkness. The only light was present was that of which came off the main street and the bright yellow and red neon sign above. The sign buzzed with a constant hum that could be heard above the rain. She sat down on a locked metal box that belonged to one of the stalls and looked on at the new environment she faced. The sounds of cars driving on wet pavement echoed into the market. The rain had begun to slow to a stop. Every now and then a drop would hit a tarp draped across the market or a sheet of metal and create a loud smack. The smell of oil and gas lifted from the moist pavement into the air. She pulled one of the bottles out and studied it. Bombay Safire dry gin, the bottle was a bright sky blue that reflected the neon lights above ever so nicely. She opened it and was presented with the pungent smell of dry gin. With hope in her eyes she whipped the bottle back letting the contents flood inside her mouth. Without stopping she began to reach for another bottle as the first 2 liter bottle was reaching its end. In a fluid movement she tossed the empty bottle to the side and cracked open the second one. She repeated this process two more time until she began to feel the desired effect. Her processers began to slow and her senses lessened. Her entire figure seemed to feel electric as if it was vibrating. The thought of Mike remained but seemed so much more distant than before. Time seemed to slow as she now sipped at one of the last remaining bottles making it last. Bonnie listened to the hum of the lights above and sighed. She lifted the bottle up to her mouth and let the last splash of gin flow inside of her. Bonnie leaned over and grabbed the last bottle and looked at it. She hoped that this last bottle would be enough to finally push her over the precipice and give her the freedom that she had hoped Mike could give her once before.
Part two should be up soon.
Keywords
female
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rabbit
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fnaf
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alcohol
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at
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bonnie
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five nights at freddys
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five
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nights
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freddys
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weaver
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hong kong
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weaver bonnie
4
Details
Published:
8 years, 5 months ago
06 Nov 2015 18:15 CET
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