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Fazbear Tales: Cottontail (Part 1)

"Are we there yet???" wailed Gerald at the backseat of the van.
"Not for another two hours, son," came his dad's reply from the passenger seat.
"But I'm hungry now!"
"We'll get dinner when we get there, okay?"
Gerald sulked and plugged his earbuds back in to resume playing Subway Surfers. He quickly grew bored and roughly poked his seatmate. "This is boring, I want to play the Switch."
"Not now, bro, I'm almost done with this boss fight!" Wayne sipped on a soda from a cupholder between them as he fended off his brother's hands.
"Just wait a little bit, Ger! Sheesh, whoa! That was close!"
On the screen, Link was running through knee-deep water as he fought a two-armed demon with a glowing blue spear, as Gerald craned his neck over to see. "Waterblight Ganon?"
"Yeah, now lemme concentrate."
Waterblight Ganon raised his free hand and hung from midair as the arena filled up with water, four blocks now jutting out from the surface. Link blasted away at the beast as Wayne's fingers flew over the joycons, landing hit after hit on the creature. Suddenly, it began glowing and writhing in midair before some dark ichor bled out of it before it exploded in a blast of purple light. Wayne waited until the victory cutscene finished before seizing a gold-and-red jeweled heart and quicksaving his slot on Breath of the Wild. He handed the Switch to his brother, snarling "don't mess up my saves."
Wayne Briggs wasn't exactly who you would call a "gamer," but who could say no to a preloaded Nintendo Switch on his 14th birthday? His brother, who was half his age and attended third grade school, was more into Pokemon, as evidenced by his many save files on Sun & Moon. They spent most of their time outside of school being little brats to their hard-working American parents, who weren't exactly rich, but secure and comfortable enough. Still, there was only so much to do in Midwest suburbia before everything wasn't much fun anymore. So, in their infinite wisdom and common sense, their parents decided that the boys needed a change of scenery the moment school was out for summer.
The original plan was to take a road trip to Kings Island, where the kids could drain their allowance on cheap carnival toys, get some great pictures off the replica Eiffel Tower, and eat to their heart's content before throwing it all up after one too many rides on the Banshee and the Firehawk, only to gorge themselves all over again. Unfortunately, Dad's accounting firm wasn't doing too well this year and, while Dad was lucky enough to avoid the cutting block, the purse strings were obviously tighter and it showed. The kids had to settle with a road trip twice as long down to small-town America, where blue lakes, thriving forests, and their favorite parts of the trip: a plate of Grandma's freshly-baked cookies washed down with a bottle of the finest sarsaparilla of Knox, Indiana.
Wayne felt a small thump by his feet, looked over, and bent down to grab the plastic ball containing Cosmo, their pet hamster, who skittered around his own vehicle soundlessly. "Relax, Cos, it's only going to be a few days, alright?" The hamster offered nothing in response save for sniffing the air around it. Wayne uncrossed his legs and placed the ball in his lap, hands and arms securing it in place as he stared out the window, gazing across the Indianapolis skyline as the sun beamed down upon the interstate.
"Well bless your pretty hearts, you sure are early! Dinner should be done real soon!"
"Grandma Ruth!!!" Gerald ran to hug his grandmother, wrapping his arms around her "KISS THE CHEF" apron. Wayne hefted some of the bags over the threshold as he took off his shoes and trudged upstairs while Ruth Kelsey hugged and kissed both parents. Even at her advanced age, she was still strong and spry like an old jackrabbit, and though she missed her husband dearly, she found support and solace in her friends. Everyone knew everyone in her neighborhood, the picture of the good ol' days.
Gerald rushed over to the kitchen, pausing to take in the sweet smells of freshly-cooked turkey and pie, while their favorite chocolate chip cookies continued to bake in the oven. Sure, their mom was no slouch herself when it came to preparing dinner, but Grandma's home-cooked meals were legendary throughout her community, and she'd taught her daughter well. The little brother opened up the fridge, searching for those extra-chilly glass bottles of the local sarsaparilla you couldn't get anywhere else.
"Oh," Grandma mumbled apologetically. "I only got the Dollar General sodas, I had to use the good stuff last bingo night."
Gerald pouted and took out two chilled cans of A&W before closing the fridge and going upstairs to break the news to Wayne and get him his consolation prize. He sighed, took the sodas, then got himself and Gerald ready for dinner.
After saying grace, the Briggs and Grandma Ruth dug into their mini-Thanksgiving meal of honey-glazed ham, smoked bacon, apple pie, and of course roast turkey. The smell of chocolate chip cookies wafted from the oven, playing with the kids' noses and leaving their mouths watering despite their already-delicious meal. As the adults went on with their idle chit-chat, catching up on life in Knox, how things were going on at Dad's work, and how Mom mustn't be feeding her kids well enough by Ruth's standards, Gerald flashed a smile and waved his phone at Wayne, who was preoccupied with his own Internet searching, checking the hours for the local tourist traps: Starke County Museum, Melody Drive-in Theater, Coney's Antiques, and so forth. He glanced at his brother's high score on Subway Surfers, shot a quick smile and a thumbs-up before gesturing at his screen and holding up his finger in a "wait" gesture. Gerald strolled over to crane his neck at the screen, only to be met with a list of hours.
"I wanna watch Captain Underpants!!!"
"Yeah I know, I know, I'm just trying to find a good time for Mom to take us."
The plan was to spend five nights max at Grandmas, visiting what was there to see, enjoy, and dine at. Things like this needed planning.
"Aw shoot," Wayne frowned. "4:30's all sold out, would you be game for 7?"
"Phones on the table," admonished Mom, holding her hand out. "Mom, is it ok if we hit Melody's at 7 instead of 4:30? Tickets for Captain Underpants were all sold out." He handed the phone over to Mom who glanced at the times, and nodded her head before motioning for Gerald's. He grimaced, but obliged, and just in time too.
"Who wants cookies?"
Wayne and Gerald gave off choruses of "ME ME ME" as Grandma doled out fresh cookies after switching out the dirty plates. They quickly forgot about everything else and ate up their cookies greedily, savoring the hot chocolate chips embedded within the chewy dough. Their minds drifted away to how much fun they'd be having this summer trip.
Knox's finest local drinks could wait for another day.
Mr. and Mrs. Briggs typically enjoyed Bingo Sunday just as much as Grandma Ruth, because it gave them a chance to catch up with local news and old friends. The kids, clearly, did not share this opinion. Back in the day, their dad would drop off Mom and Grandma at the Community Center then go take the kids somewhere fun, but this time, Wayne would be taking Gerald around the town by themselves, as long as they stuck together and didn't wander too far. "They're big kids, and it's past time Wayne learned real responsibility," Grandma insisted, handing each of them $20 in cash and a gift card to the nearby PizzaPlex. "And tell Roger I said howdy!" Grandma called out to them, winking then blowing a kiss in their direction, causing Gerald to grimace in exaggerated disgust.
Of course, kids being kids, they maxed out the gift card pretty quickly at the PizzaPlex arcades and feasted on some semi-decent pepperoni pizza and Coke. Once they got bored with the garish restaurant, they still had an hour left to go before having to head back to the community center to take Grandma home.
"I know where to go, Wayne! Let's hit up Coney's!!!"
Coney's was one of the last strongholds of mom-and-pop business, becoming a popular tourist attraction of Knox in and of itself. Rumor had it you could find just about anything you needed there, and even if you didn't, anyone who visited could agree that it was well worth the trip. In other words, it was the perfect way to kill that last hour of fun time. Before they knew it, they were at that vintage red door under the threshold leading to a world of fun.
"Couldn't agree more. Shall we?"
As Wayne and Gerald entered the shoppe, the tinkling cowbell and the musty odors of decades' worth of dust layering glass cases, old wooden chairs, and various machine parts combined with old-style sweets and classic beverages hit their noses and sent their minds sprawling back in time to those carefree days of childhood, making Wayne feel like an 8-year old again. It felt like it was just yesterday when he first stepped into Coney's antique trading post and general store, back when iPads were still a novelty and when summers were mostly spent playing baseball at the local park and chasing Gerald around whenever he got too excited.
"Hello boys!"
They turned around and an old man dressed down with a candy-cane striped shirt, a straw boater hat, and a neat purple bowtie smiled through his snowy mustache. A bamboo shepherd's cane rested on his white-gloved hands. It was almost as if he'd just appeared behind his desk like magic, while in reality he probably came from just behind the curtain leading to his office before they came in. Mr. Roger Coney was a close friend of Grandma Ruth, and would always supply the treats for bingo nights, all on the house.
"Where's your dad?"
"Oh, he's at bingo with Grandma."
"Really now? Gee whiz, look at you lil' cowboys, all grown up!" Roger let out a small chuckle and twinkled his mustache.
His quaint carnival barker charm allowed his shoppe to thrive even in the face of modern competition, offering an eclectic blend not found anywhere else in Knox. Plastic 20-oz soda and water bottles were stacked in a large vintage Coca-Cola machine, alternating with locally-brewed teas and soft drinks. Cheap convenience store necessities sat overlooking collector-quality knick-knacks and bottle caps, and in a far corner, Stacy Coney scrolled through Snapchat and Instagram while resting her feet on a neon bubbler jukebox playing Michael Jackson's greatest hits. Little alcoves of antique goods he'd get from here or there took up the main area, watched over by a sitting Plushtrap Chaser. Coming here was always a memorable and unique experience.
"Heh, Rusty hates that little thing," Mr. Coney chuckled, pointing at the greenish-yellow dwarf rabbit. "We keep him up there so he doesn't become that mutt's newest chew toy." As if on cue, with a loud BOOF, a shaggy Golden Retriever jumped out from a nearby corner and loped over to Wayne, panting and wagging his tail. "Heyy!!!" Wayne smooshed and petted Rusty as he reared up on his hind legs to lick at any bare skin he could find. "Easy boy! Easy! Wow, he's grown quite a bit!"
"Sure has, just like you! How've you been?"
Wayne continued making small talk while Rusty ambled over to his bed when Gerald tugged on his shirt. "I have to pee!" Wayne rolled his eyes while Mr. Coney pointed towards a vintage restroom sign hanging from the ceiling.
"So… what brings you here to ol' Roger Coney's, Duke?"
Wayne chuckled. His parents grew up with a love for the works of Marion M. Morrison and named their firstborn son after John Wayne, the Rooster of True Grit. He had to admit the Duke's confidence had rubbed off a bit on him, and it showed.
"Nothin' much, just hopin' we've learned something from yesterday."
"Tomorrow is the most important thing in life, especially for a buckaroo like yourself!" Mr. Coney then leaned in conspiratorially and lowered his voice. "Spendin' gramma's bingo winnings today, aren't we?"
"$20 each!" Wayne smiled. His eyes scanned the vintage toys and dolls behind Mr. Coney, pausing a little at a smallish box inside a glass jar.
"Well pardner, how 'bout today I'll give you my"—Mr. Coney winked with a giggle—"special discount. Just in time too, I just got a big haul of vintage Fazbear merch I'm sure you'd like!"

Wayne passed by shelves of old toys, figurines, decorative vases, and vintage jewelry in various conditions ranging from mint to barely sellable. A still-sealed "Fiztime Popventures" comic stood next to a jar of random junk that was being sold as-is. A wall display of skeleton keys hung in front of a shelf of paperweights and music boxes, with the sign "HANDLE WITH CAUTION" standing guard over the area. Corona typewriters next to Victrola record players were proudly displayed in cases amidst shelves of books and old vinyl discs. Wayne even saw a shabby taxidermy jackalope, its fur having dried off in various patches, as well as a faded poster of Babe Ruth. An untrained eye might easily confuse expensive trash for ridiculously cheap treasure, of which, Wayne was certain, this store had plenty in both categories. He was sure that Mr. Coney knew exactly what he was selling and how to provide a fair price, but people didn't come here just to buy or sell vintage goods, they came here for the experience.
Wayne turned a corner and came face to face with a grinning bear face, which led him to double back in surprise to see the shell of an old Freddy Fazbear's head, which would probably have once concealed hidden animatronic mechanisms that made it come to life and entertain families. He entered a small alcove where various Fazbear Entertainment memorabilia were on display: plushies, prizes, posters, masks… there was even an old worn skee-ball game with a SOLD tag on it for the buyer to pick up later. Wayne took one look at the masks, and a devilish idea came to mind…
Gerald adjusted his shorts as he wandered the maze of toys and stuff that he neither recognized, nor cared about. He nearly ran right into Stacy, who had been making duck faces while holding her phone out in front of her to take selfies. "Front of the store's to your right, boy," she pointed, not even looking at Gerald.
"Um, I wasn't—"
"Yeah?" the teenager snipped. "They always get lost in this dump. If I have to deal with one more Karen bitch complaining to me for not babysitting the 'little angel'"—she drew the syllables out in the most viciously sarcastic tone she could muster—"I might as well just walk right out of this fucking place."
Gerald blinked incredulously, not even caring that he heard her swear in front of a child. He didn't remember Stacy always being this nasty… then again, there was a lot he didn't remember from that age.
He shrugged, and came to a small alcove full of merchandise from some old kid's place called Fazbear Pizza. His eyes wandered around and landed on a laundry basket full of stuffed animals. A gigantic Ziploc bag with an assortment of small matching plushies was marked with a $4 tag, and Gerald opened it up to look closely at the toys within. Two bears, one yellow with black eyes and one brown with blue eyes, mingled with a yellow bird with a bib reading "LET'S EAT!!!", a purple rabbit with a red bowtie, and a red toothy fox with a pirate's eyepatch. Gerald scooped the toys up in his arms and turned to leave—


Gerald gave a loud squeal and fell upon his rear as the plushies scattered all over the floor. Someone with a fox mask like the ones hanging on the racks behind him was wheezing with laughter, grasping a nearby wall in an attempt to keep himself standing. His other hand gripped a cellphone, red light still flashing, unable to keep it steady as it fell to his side. Once he had recovered, the figure turned off his phone and pointed at Gerald.
"Oh my God, the look on your face!!!!"
Gerald looked peeved and grimaced. "WAYNE! It's not FUNNY!!!"
"Hahaha, it is funny, oh wow you can't buy that kind of entertainment."
"You made me drop my plushies! That better not show up on Youtube, big bro!"
"Well you weren't supposed to take them out of the bag to begin with," Wayne chided, pointing at the discarded Ziploc.
"You'll pay for this!" Gerald noticed the remaining masks and grabbed one that looked like a brown bear.
"No, you'll pay for those," Wayne pointed at the plushies still on the floor, "as well as the Freddy mask, if you still want them. I'm paying for this," Wayne pointed at his own mask, now dangling off his hand.
"Whatever," Gerald rolled his eyes. "I want candy."
They brought the masks and plush toys, as well as other odds and ends of interest, to the front counter where Mr. Coney handled the register. Wayne pointed at various candies and drinks to purchase, and then pointed at the box in the display jar. "S'cuse me, but what's that?"
Mr. Coney looked a bit confused at where Wayne was pointing this time, but then noticed the box and gave a quick start. "Oh, this?" He carefully placed the jar on the counter and removed the glass, before turning the box in his gloved hands. It was a 4-inch cube made of a purplish wood they'd never seen before, inlaid with intricate golden designs on all six faces. "Purpleheart, quite rare indeed! Funny story, this just appeared on my doorstep one day without a note. I've tried finding out who sent it, and I've tried to track down its provenance. I still don't quite know where it came from, or who made it. Quite an oddity."
"What does it do?" inquired Wayne.
"Well…" Mr. Coney ran his fingers over one of the faces in a circular motion. The box made a series of clicking noises and was gently placed back upon the platform, upon which it slowly rotated, letting out a whimsical melody that sounded familiar, but at the same time altogether original and unrecognizable to any of them. Wayne felt chills run down his spine as the tune continued, soaking into his very nerves, and he began feeling light-headed as if he could weightlessly float off the ground any moment. The box stopped moving with a final click, the silence gently setting him down to earth once more. He turned to Gerald, who was blinking rapidly like he'd just woken up from a refreshing nap; he looked around, confused.
"Grandma would love this," Wayne mused.
Mr. Coney laughed and shook his head. "I thought so too, but when she heard that you two were coming, she said 'let the kids have their fun' and backed off. I insisted, but…" he leaned in and whispered, "she thought it'd suit you better. 'I'm too old for these; besides, it'd be theirs anyway once I bite it, so why wait?'"
"Okay," thought Wayne out loud. "How much?"
"$20. $15 if you say 'please'."
"NO. That's gotta be worth WAY more than just 20 bucks!"
"Bahhh," Mr. Coney waved them off. "Consider it my treat."
Wayne thought for a moment, then nodded. "Deal; may we get this box? Please?"
"Sure thing, Duke! Sure thing! It's yours! Always was!"
Wayne pressed the crosswalk button with a BEEP as he and his brother waited for the light to turn red and the little walk sign to flash. All in all, this had been a pretty good trip down to Coney's. One hand with a fresh cool bottle of that special sweet elixir, the other holding a Coney's reusable tote full of two masks, five plush toys, three six-packs of sarsaparilla bottles, a whole bunch of candies and some vintage Fazbear posters thrown in; the $40 Grandma Ruth gifted them for today's excursion barely covered the costs, Wayne leaving the shop with three quarters, two cents, and a dime in change from his original 20. He almost felt as if he'd ripped the poor old man off big time, but, well…
"She's a bitch," Gerald quietly complained.
Wayne spat sarsaparilla into the bottle and coughed profusely before whipping his head around in shock, hissing, "WHO TOLD YOU THAT WORD?? DID HARVEY CALL YOU THAT???"
"Stacy, from the shop," Gerald explained nonchalantly. "She's a bitch."
Wayne nearly dropped his bags all over the pavement as the crosswalk signal turned on, forcing them to cross the street in silence. When they were safe on the sidewalk on the other side, Wayne turned on his heels to scold his brother, face as red as the Foxy mask atop the tote.
"You're not supposed to call people that!"
"But she iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis!!"
"I know that! What did she say to you??"
"She said she'd leave her"—Gerald silently mouthed the word "fucking"—"job next time she saw a Karen"—he mouthed "bitch."
Wayne considered this, then shrugged and nodded. He had seen firsthand how rude and toxic retail customers could be. Stacy had a point, but still, she didn't really win any points in the "kid-friendly" department in his eyes.
"Let's-let's just head back to Grandma's 'k? This stuff's pretty heavy, and they're probably expecting us. C'mon!"
Going back home to the suburbs of Louisville was ALWAYS the boring part, thought Wayne. Over the droning of the tires on asphalt and the sounds of SSBU on the Switch his brother was currently preoccupied with, Wayne stared off into the wind farm at the distance, watching the turbines lazily spinning in the steady breeze. Quickly getting bored with this, he turned his attention to their haul from their trip to grandma's. He reached into his bag and pulled out the music box from Coney's. He realized he hadn't had the chance to take a closer look before, having forgotten all about it in the hustle and bustle of packing up for the trip home.
He was surprised at how heavy the box was, almost as if he was holding onto a concrete brick the size of a large orange or a small grapefruit. He remembered it feeling much lighter when they bought it, unless that was just his imagination. Cautiously, he began turning the cube around in his hands, inspecting every side. Each of the 6 sides was dominated by a central golden ring set on a hard wood with a rich purple hue that gave off a weird fragrance he couldn't place. Quarter-slices of smaller circles supported the larger rings from each of the 24 corners, each containing odd glyphs made of lines and dots in no recognizable arrangement. Outside these, the wood was flecked with bits of gold that almost reminded Wayne of party confetti.
He closely examined the top side, the one the shop owner had turned to make the box play its tune. A central disc of heavily tarnished brass lay embedded in a reddish-brown background, ringed by a braided border atop which various rabbits leapt, one after the other in a cycle. Wayne was about to make a mental note to probably have it cleaned up when he spotted something familiar. He paused and took a closer look at the cube, glancing it over and trying to figure out what he had seen. Then he found the pattern. A set of seven marks just off-center, an irregular trapezoidal shape cut in half by a line of three dots.
Orion the Hunter.
When he scanned over the remaining discolorations and pits, he realized that he was looking at a very deliberate design of the night sky, except inverted. He saw that the discolored arc crossing the dial and grazing the center was the Milky Way, and turned around the box to inspect the bottom. It was basically the same, except now the rabbits were facing the opposite direction, and the dots were arranged differently. Wayne recognized the Big Dipper, and traced its rightmost stars to find the North Star, only… that star was not at all centered on the map. He vaguely remembered reading about how the Earth's axis would shift positions over the millenia and that Polaris wasn't always the North Star. He would have to show this to his science teacher and ask what he thought.
Wayne examined the side faces, and was met with three rabbits running in a knotwork circle, its strands now inscribed with words in a language he did not recognize. These rabbits were far more intricately crafted than the ones on the top face, and he was impressed at the level of accuracy and detail put into each of their realistic features. He could almost see the little golden legs galloping within the words. It was like watching Cosmo the hamster running in his wheel until he tired itself out and would be spun around before being ejected onto the bedding below.
The boy absentmindedly began counting various body parts: six forelegs, six hind legs, three tails, three eyes, three noses, three ears. Wait... three ears? Rabbits have two ears each, and there were three rabbits, so that meant six ears, right? Wayne looked at the design again and chuckled to himself; there were only three ears, arranged in a perfect triangle in the center and each was double-ended. Each rabbit took two ears each, and any two rabbits shared at least one identical ear. It was an impressive illusion; if you weren't looking for it, you wouldn't give it a second glance.
The last two faces were the most interesting, both appearing to show a scene straight out of a nursery rhymes book. A golden horizon provided the backdrop of a joyful scene with silhouetted children frolicking with balloons and party hats while carnival rides ran in the distant background. The skies were peppered in cute elements such as teddy bears, candies, and balloons, watched over by a smiling sun on one side, and a sleeping crescent moon on the other. Dominating the scene was a figure who virtually split the tableau down in half. It looked like a cartoon rabbit doing a jig, a golden silhouette that grabbed the viewer's attention. The top of the torso seemed unusually notched and thinned out, but when Wayne examined the grain more carefully, he realized that this was supposed to signify a purple vest with golden stars worn by the rabbit man. An impressive usage of negative space to add mesmerizing levels of detail to such a scene.
Turning his attention back to the top of the cube, Wayne searched the star map for a button or notch he was supposed to place his finger on. Finding none, he placed his fingertip on the Milky Way and turned it with a buzzing series of clicks and not much resistance. The map slowly turned and that same unfamiliar tune began to play, inaudible to everyone but him. He found himself looking at the festive happy scenes on the sides as the tune began to morph into circus music. The sounds of games, rides, chimes, playing and laughing children filled his ears as he took in the kaleidoscope of colors and the smells of cotton candy, hot dogs, and pizza. And up ahead, the yellow bunny mascot was dancing in front of Wayne, to tremendous applause as he got shoved again and again by children wanting to get a closer look…
"WAYNE" smack "WAYNE" smack. Wayne jerked backward in his seat as if he'd caught himself from falling over as Gerald began hitting him with the joycon. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the strap from his brother's hand, annoyed.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT." Wayne barked out.
"The Switch is dead! Where's the charger?" Sure enough, Gerald was waving a now-blank screen petulantly to grab Wayne's attention.
"Oh! Uh..." he dug into the bag for the battery and cable before handing everything back to his brother. "Y'know you could have just said something, bro!"
"But I did!" whined Gerald as he connected the USB to the console.
"Well you didn't have to hit me! Careful with those joycons," admonished Wayne. Gerald spit a raspberry in response, and went back to booting up the Switch.
Wayne stared at the now-still cube in his lap, and three eyes stared back at him from the running hares. Had he fallen asleep? Was that a dream? Or a memory? He didn't feel sleepy, but that scene felt so real, as if he was actually there. Had the others seen it, felt it too? Dad was still driving, Mom was hooking up the cable to the car outlet with a tired "Gerald, don't hit your brother," and of course Gerald was trying once again to turn on his games. Slowly, Wayne placed the box back in his bag and zipped it shut, out of sight, before taking out his phone.
Perhaps some music would take his mind off things.
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