[EN] FNAF X: The Logbook of Secrets - Ep. 2

 

Elara knew she wasn't safe. The laugh she'd worn in the photo she'd taken of herself at the monitor before her shift had long since given way to icy panic.

She had to get out. But something held her, a macabre pull that forced her to learn more. The metal box under the desk contained not only the shocking maintenance logs and the blurry photo of the creature that disassembled Bonnie. At the very bottom lay a small, worn notebook – not an official log, but a personal logbook, its leather cover ravaged by moisture and time. It was the personal property of a former night guard, Elara realized immediately.

She carefully picked it up. The smell was more intense here, a mix of old ink, damp paper, and a subtle, unnatural sweetness. Elara opened the first page. The handwriting was shaky, often smudged, as if written in haste or poor light. There were entries spanning weeks, perhaps months.

[Date and time illegible] Night 1. The new guy. First day's always the worst, right? The animatronics are creepy. Especially Foxy. He stares. Feels like he sees me. Not just the camera. Tried to tell myself they're just old machines. But I feel it. They're… different.

[A few days later] The sound. I swear I heard it. A faint hum from the kitchen. And then Chica's plate. It was on the floor. Put it back. That's not normal. The doors are all closed, the lights off. How could it…

[A few more days] Bonnie moves. My heart. Saw him in the West Hall when I checked the lights. Or did I see him? Just a shadow, a flash of violet. My mind's playing tricks. It has to be. Too tired. Need more coffee.

Elara quickly flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the entries. The entries became more disjointed, more frantic. Sketches appeared: crude drawings of animatronic eyes glowing in the dark, or outlines of figures lurking in the hallway.

[Heavily smudged page] They know I'm here. I see them. Everywhere. Their eyes. They're not empty. There's something in them. So cold. So dead. Freddy sings in the dark. Quietly, but I hear it. No music. Just his voice. That laugh… It haunts me.

[Even more smudged page, only individual words legible] …child… help… face… broken… he did it… hidden… not alone…

Elara felt a wave of nausea rise within her. The cassette. She had to listen to the cassette. The notebook spoke of broken faces, of children crying for help. Was this the missing piece of the puzzle connecting the "inappropriate contact" incidents and the missing children?

A loud CREAK made her jump. It came from the door leading to the main area. The heavy steel door. It had been ajar. Now it was open. A gap. A black, bottomless gap from which the darkness of the dining room seemed to crawl.

Her gaze shot to the monitor. Camera 1A: The stage. Freddy was gone.

An icy grip seemed to seize Elara's heart. She wasn't alone. And the truth hidden in this decaying logbook was just the beginning.

She had to play the cassette. Now.

Elara found an old cassette recorder in one of the desk drawers, dusty but surprisingly functional. Her hands trembled as she inserted the cassette. The "Play" symbol was barely recognizable, the buttons sticky. A faint hiss filled the room as the tape began to run.

First, there was only static, the typical crackle of old recordings. Then a male voice, low and nervous: "Logbook entry… Night 4. I swear to God… these things are moving. I saw Freddy in the kitchen. His eyes… They glow." A gulp, then faster breathing. "I… I closed the doors. I'm safe. But they're knocking. They're knocking on the door."

A loud CLUNK echoed through the recording, followed by a choked gasp from the man. Elara held her breath. That was exactly the sound she'd heard when her shift began!

The man's voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "He's there. He's… not right. He's… It's not Bonnie." A terrifying, distorted crunching sound was heard, making Elara flinch. It sounded like metal being torn apart, accompanied by a horrible, high-pitched squeal – almost like a scream caught in the throat.

"Oh my God… his face… he tore it apart… I saw it… the eyes…" The voice broke off, dissolving into an inarticulate whimper that slowly morphed into a deep, cruel laugh. But it wasn't the man's laugh. It was a deep, mechanical, ominous laugh that rattled Elara to her core.

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The laughter grew louder, overwhelming the recording until it merged with a deafening HUM that vibrated the recorder's membranes and then abruptly stopped.

Silence. A deeper, colder silence than before. The recording was over.

Elara ripped the cassette from the recorder. Her hands were ice cold, her entire body trembling. She wasn't the only one who had experienced this horror. And the previous night guard… his fate had been sealed on this cassette. The laugh. The mechanical, mocking laugh. It wasn't human. It was him.

The door to the main area was still open. The gap had widened. An eerie darkness streamed out, both drawing and repelling Elara's gaze.

A faint giggle emanated. Not from the cassette. Not from the ventilation shaft. It came directly from the room now before her. A giggle that smelled of metal and despair.

Freddy.

She wasn't alone. And he wasn't on stage anymore. He was here.