ɢʟᴀᴍᴏʀᴏᴜꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ

11 : Amber Alert

It was chaos. Pure chaos. A wife gripped her husband's arms so tight it felt like it was going to tear through his shirt. She had a horrified look on her face, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from sobbing. Her face stretched into a look of pure, motherly savagery.

"No one's responding, I've been talking to several different faces. The police refuse to help!" She wailed at him. Her hands trembled on his shoulders. The husband looked just as bad. Almost worse. He was dead silent.

Tonight, it started off peaceful. It was the calm after the storm of excitement they felt at that crazy Pizzaplex. But the calm was soon torn to shreds.

The parents remember, they were home after what felt like hours of travel. It was midnight. They got out of the car, the father walked to the back door in which he was sure his little girl was leaning on, sleeping away.

But once he knocked at the door, listening to hear his daughter stir from her sleep and open the door begrudgingly, like she did so many times before, but nothing of the sort happened. He furrowed his brow, when the car's headlights shut off with a click and the door didn't open.

"Hey," he called out patiently and gently, perhaps she was fast asleep? He opened the door slowly, the car's inner lights turned on with a flash. His eyes grew wide as saucers, his grip was still tight on the door. He was staring at an empty seat. There was no (y/n.)

"Gummy bear?" He called out, his voice was hesitant and shaky. His calm wavered when he didn't get a response. He frantically yelled for his wife who was inside already, who came out with a wary look in her eyes, this could only mean one thing.

They left (y/n) behind.

When they got over their shocked paralysis, their sobs and cries, the mother called several people: the police, the Pizzaplex, and Fazbear Entertainment. The father looked for any possible information on the internet on what to do.

The police said that the parents had to wait till the Pizzaplex opened up for their search to begin. The mother questioned them, but in the end, it was a losing war for her.

The Pizzaplex itself never picked up, no matter how many times they called, only a robotic voicemail answered. "Please wait until a patient employee picks up your call, thank you."

An employee never picked up, the mother yelled at the robotic voice until her voice was hoarse and her eyes were misty with frustration and panic. It was hopeless, they never did answer.

And finally, Fazbear Entertainment answered. If only a brief moment. The mother cried at the woman on the phone for help, but the woman murmured the same thing the police said, "wait until it opens at 6 AM."

The mother yelled at her "why!" But the woman hung up. The mother threw her phone at the wall in anger and despair. Breathing harshly and clenching her fist. There was no greater pain then a mother losing her child.

When all hope seemed lost, the parents sat on the couch. The father held the mother who cried into his chest. Muttering about their daughter.

"My baby," she sobbed, "my poor baby." The father rubbed her back, he had a distant look in his eyes. He had a thought appear in his head, information he was hesitant to speak about. It was better than nothing, but they could face rejection again judging by the status of this guy.

"I found something earlier," the man murmured looking into his eyes. "There's a man who could probably help us, but I'm unsure..."

"Really? How... how come you never said this before?!" The wife looked angry but relieved at the same time. She sat up with a look in her eyes, it was a look of fragile determination. She would never give up on her child. But the man wouldn't either.