Chapter Text
Memoir of the Bystanders
Anonymous writer
15-06-20XX
This is the first time I’m writing for this journal, and it will probably be the only story I’ll ever tell. My name is not important, I don’t look for fame for publishing this. I also want to mention, I’m writing this not to glorify the persons behind these infamous events, but to shed light on the lives of people directly and indirectly linked to them. Neither do I want in any capacity to justify, defend or bring any understanding or sympathy to the man behind these tragedies. My only goal is for people to not forget everyone else involved in it, people who played a major role in the events of the 80s and beyond them.
If you’re here, you’ve probably heard of the Afton killings. If not, then I don’t know why you’re reading this. I won’t tell you to turn to another page or stop reading, but I suggest you at least Google it – or read this article by the talented Sarah J. M. who wrote about the victims and their cases. My story does not tell their story, however, the people I write about are in their own right, too, victims of their circumstances.
Anyone who has lived through the “Decade of Greed” has heard of the small but infamous pizzeria chain populated by animatronic animals, Freddy Fazbear’s pizza, or one of its many rebrandings. It was founded by a pair of engineers, Henry Emily and William Afton, after whom the murders that occurred at several of Fazbear Entertainment’s locations were named. Through early to mid-80s gruesome murders committed by Afton remained an unsolved mystery until much later, leading to the previously cold case getting solved. Again, the case is covered thoroughly in the aforementioned article (can’t stop shouting it out), I will only be mentioning it in passing.
I guess this could be viewed as a memoir on behalf of a person I once knew. I will not disclose their name out of respect for their memory. I will try to be as unbiased as I can be, not covering any of these people in glitter, though I’ll also try to respect their memory. This is a pretty convoluted story, it was one even when I heard it, and it may be hearsay upon hearsay of the teller’s and my own capability to memorize details, but I want the world to hear it, for it is fascinating, terrifying, thrilling and tragic.
There were two families involved in this story: the Emilys and the Aftons, hopefully to no surprise to anybody. Although there is only one man who gets the spotlight and is always painted as the villain, this time I wish to give you another perspective on these families – and on him. William Afton is almost always told to be a maniac, a sadist and a monster (although that’s not always the case; I know there are serial killer cults who literally glorify him. Sick bastards, please rot in hell). I never met him, and I’d never like to, but I believe that he wasn’t really like that, at least not always, at least not at first. His actions made him into a monster, yes. But, in the beginning he was a father himself. A father of three, actually. And so was Henry Emily a father of one.
I don’t know about the two’s background, how they met, when the idea of building robots to entertain children came to them. All I know about the franchise itself is from Wikipedia, that in 1983 they opened their first restaurant where colorful animatronics sang songs and served food. The first tragedy, one unrelated to and often forgotten from the narrative, struck there – the death of Elizabeth, the middle child of the Aftons. It hit the newly found franchise as hard as it hit the family, neither ever really recovering from it. It painted the chain with a horrifyingly bad image, although it was just an accident. The first death of many to come was an accident. And still, as it would be the starting point of this tale, it’s been almost completely erased by time.
The short life and death of Elizabeth Afton is an interesting case, one that I’m looking forward to telling. Even if she is (or was) the least remarkable of the Afton children in life, she grew to become a major player in the events following years after her passing. This statement makes no sense now, but I will try to explain it. I promise in advance: I’m not crazy.
As I’m writing this on a library computer, my time is starting to run short (and I am a slow writer) so I must wrap the first entry here. Hopefully I will be able to pump out the next chapter for next week’s issue in time, painting the event that started it all and would be hauntingly present until the bitter end. I will continue telling this story. Until then, I hope you stay tuned and stay safe.
- x