So as far as time goes, I really have no idea where this takes place and as far as the lore of it, I took the book, the major theories for the game and some of my own thoughts and mangled (heh) them all together so I could write a story. Hope you enjoy. :)


"Yar! Give it back!" he yelled, leaping off his stage. "It's mine, Freddy! Give it back!"

Freddy laughed, waving the object above his head. "You have to catch me, Foxy!" He squawked and jumped out of the way as Foxy caught a chair on his hook at threw it at his face.

"This ain't funny, Freddy! Give me eye patch back!"

Chica giggled at the shenanigans and, tossing her cupcake to Bonnie, joined in the game. "Toss it to me, Freddy! I'm open!"

Freddy ran around a table with Foxy on his tail and threw the eye patch with a laugh. "Don't let him get it Chica!" he called to her, sliding to a stop and laughing as Foxy tripped over himself.

"Hey!" Foxy shouted angrily. "That ain't fair! Bonnie!" He turned to look at the rabbit and glared. "Ain't ya gonna help me?"

The hinges of Bonnie's mouth squeaked in an attempted to curl up into a grin. "Nah. Watching you trip is really funny, Foxy."

Foxy growled. "Not fair, not fair, not fair!" he stomped his foot on the ground and flipped the table nearest him.

"What's going on in here?" a voice asked from the door. The animatronics froze in their game and turned to face their friend. The Marionette floated in place with his arms crossed, his eye holes squinted in frustration. "Freddy, Chica, why did you steal Foxy's eye patch?"

"We're playing!" Freddy shouted, throwing his arms up in a happy fashion.

Chica nodded. "Just having some fun, Puppet."

Foxy growled. "It ain't fun, matey! These scalawags stole me eye patch while I was sleepin' and now they won't give it back!"

The Marionette shook his head. "Guys, you know we don't play this way. It's mean and no one likes a bully."

Bonnie tilted his head in confusion. "But Springtrap said it was okay to take people's things as long as it was just a game."

The Marionette stared blankly—more blankly than usual—for a few seconds before throwing his arms in the air and releasing an unholy shriek of rage.

The animatronics huddled together in fear. Chica quickly passed Foxy's eye patch back to him.

The Marionette flew from the room, disappearing into the shadows.

Freddy made a static noise—the equivalent of clearing his throat—and gently pushed his friends back to the stage area, suggesting they have a story time and make as little noise as possible while Puppet had his meltdown.


Springtrap sighed in boredom. He'd already played four games of Solitaire and seven games of Jenga (with himself) and now he was keeping himself occupied with flipping through the security cameras. "Weird angles," he mumbled. Absentmindedly he stuck a hand up his mask to scratch at his rotting flesh and inwardly bemoaned his imprisonment to this animatronic suit.

Everything was just so dull.

He looked up from the security feed, meeting the intense, black, empty gaze of a white mask only inches from his face and fell out of his chair with a yelp.

"Gah! Don't do that, kid!" He pushed himself up and glared. The hinges of his mouth may not have allowed much expression, but he imagined even the sickly grin permanently attached to his face somehow carried an angry air about it. "Seriously, you have no clue how annoying that is."

The Marionette's gaze only intensified.

"What?" Springtrap asked, annoyed and bored again. "What is it now?"

"You told them they could steal things," he hissed back, crossing his arms. Springtrap rolled his eyes. "Ah. That. Yeah, I said they could take stuff so long as they were playing. What's the big deal? It keeps 'em busy."

"What's the big deal? WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL!?"

"Yeah, string bean, that's what I said."

The Marionette threw his arms out, fingers spread as though he were going to attempt to strangle Springtrap. "You turned them into thieves! That's the big deal!"

"You're overreacting."

"OVERREACTING?! We had a good thing going here, Springtrap. We were finally at peace. They were happy again! And now you're telling them to play mean games? Foxy was upset. They stole his eye patch. They were acting like bullies!"

Springtrap's eyes glinted. "Well… Nothing wrong with taking after dad, right?"

The Marionette paused. "Taking after… WHAT? No. No! You don't get to play dad here, Springtrap! You killed them!"

"Aww, Papa Springtrap wouldn't hurt us."

The Marionette spun around to see Bonnie peaking out from behind the door. Behind him stood the other three animatronics. "No, Bonnie," Puppet said, attempting to mask his frustration over the whole situation, "Springtrap was the mean man who hurt you, remember?"

Bonnie looked confused. "But that man went away, Puppet. You said he couldn't hurt us anymore. Springtrap isn't mean to us. He just wants to play with us."

"Yeah, Puppet," Chica chimed with a huff. "Grownups are mean, but we chased all the mean grownups away. Springtrap is like us."

Freddy nodded enthusiastically. "They're right, huh, Springtrap? You're like us and you like to play. Puppet, you should stop being mean to him."

The Marionette stumbled. "But... But he… What?"

"The dead tend to forget," Springtrap said, voice dripping with satisfaction. "We're all just one big, happy family here, right kids?"

The animatronics cheered their agreement.

"Dave," Puppet hissed. "If you weren't already dead, I'd pinch your snarky head off your shoulders."

"Arr! No need for threats, Puppet." Foxy shook his hook at the Marionette. "Yer angry about the bilge rat what put us in this predicament in the first place, but we've run 'im off and not seen hide nor tail of him since."

Puppet's eyehole twitched. "He's right there!" he shrieked, pointing wildly at Springtrap. "He's the one who killed everyone!"

Springtrap looked at the animatronics, pointed at the Marionette then twirled his finger around as if to say 'this guy is crazy.'

The animatronics giggled.

Puppet covered his face and moaned into his hands. "Look," he started, calming himself once more, "I know you four sometimes forget things that happened in the past, but I promise you, Springtrap is the one who hurt you. He can't hurt you anymore, but that doesn't make him good and you shouldn't be listening to him."

"Well, that's not very nice to say," Springtrap whined. "You hurt my feelings." He gave a heavy sigh and dropped his ears dramatically. "Now I'm gonna go cry in the corner and mourn the loss of my only friends."

The animatronics gasped. "NO!" they shouted in unison. They rushed to Springtrap's side, hugging and cuddling him and telling him it was okay.

Springtrap looked at the Marionette smugly. I win, he silently taunted.

"Stop being such a meany," Chica snapped. "You hurt Springtrap's feelings and nobody like a bully." Her tone was mocking.

"I don't believe it," Puppet said, limbs going limp. "You turned them against me. After all you did to them and all I did for them, you actually turned them against me."

"Go cry your river somewhere else, Mary," Springtrap said with a shrug.

The animatronics snickered. "Mary," Bonnie said. "Like Marionette." He snorted. "I get it."

The others giggled a little harder. "But Mary's a lass's name an' Puppet's a lad—er… right?" Foxy said.

Puppet crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. "My name's not Mary and you know it."

Chica and Bonnie laughed louder. "Hey, Chica, you know the song Mary had a little lamb?"

Chica nodded. "And a little cake and a little spam?"

"Yar! I love that one!"

Freddy chimed in, grabbing the others by the hand and hopping in a circle with them. "A banana split, three onion rings."

All together: "Some tofu and threw up!"

They repeated their song with wild giggles as Springtrap leaned against the desk behind him with a smirk. They pointed at the Marionette in mock fashion, chanting "Mary, Mary, Mary," in degrading tones.

The lights flickered and two silver flicks of light appeared in the Marionette's eyeholes. "Stop," he said calmly. Maybe too calmly.

The animatronics immediately stilled, glancing at each other nervously. Freddy mumbled something about a game of hide and seek and they fled from the room.

Springtrap chuckled. "You get too worked up over stupid things, kid."

Puppet only glared at him.

"Incidentally, what is your name?"

That seemed to shake him. "Wh-what?"

"Your name, kid. What is it? Can't say I know."

The Marionette watched him. "That's a joke, right?"

Springtrap shrugged. "Nah. I really have no clue."

"Are you kidding me? You're a psychotic serial killer who murdered children to fulfill your twisted fantasies and you don't even know our names?!"

"Oh, I know their names. I know stuff about them too. Michael's favorite color was purple because it reminded him of his mom. Anthony had some older brothers who liked to gang up on him. Samuel liked to be called Sammy because it was what his sister learned to say first. Bethany and Jenifer had the same mom, but different dads. The twins, Eric and Eli, were going into the foster system—they would have been separated. Clark's dad was in prison. Brian was a little eccentric and didn't have a lot of friends. And Holly's parents were jerks. There were a few others, but they're not here." He looked up from where he had been counting the names on his fingers. "But, no, I got no clue who you are or anything about you, really." He tilted his head. "You okay? You look stressed."

Puppet sputtered. "You… you stabbed me to death and you didn't even bother to learn my name?"

"I didn't plan you. Ya just kind of… happened."

The Marionette grew silent. Seconds passed as he hung limply in the air. Finally, without another word, he left the room.

Springtrap shrugged and went back to playing his card game. He glanced around the room after a minute and, finding no one around to watch him, pulled open one of the drawers on the desk and picked up a small binder. He opened it and flipped through the crudely colored drawings of children hugging big yellow rabbits and bears. Each page was signed at the bottom with very specific names. Michael, Anthony, Sammy and so on… He chuckled darkly at the brown spots speckling the corners of the pages, remember in detail the day they had been put there, they day those spots had been red… the day he got his family.

His happiest day.


The Puppet sunk down into his box, folding over himself in unnatural ways. He didn't know why he was so bothered by Springtrap not knowing his name, but he was. For so long he had thought there was something special about him that had brought him here. Something different that caused him to be targeted. There had to have been a reason for his murder, right? But now it looked like he was just a child of happenstance. A punk kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It made him angry, but moreover, it made him sad.

Did his existence have no meaning after all?

He shook his head. "This is stupid," he mumbled, kicking the wall of his box. "I know what I need. I need my music. That always makes me feel better." He stuck an arm out the lid and reached switch that would activate the recording of his song only the switch wasn't there. He frowned inwardly and peaked over the side of his box.

Gone. Ripped from its place with little colored wires jutting out into the darkness, mocking his suffering. Okay, so that might have been a little dramatic, but he couldn't help the sinking feeling in the pit of his being that told him creation itself had made his misery its purpose for existing.

He sighed, pulling himself back out of his shroud of darkness. "Now how am I supposed to get this stupid box working again?"

He looked around the room for the missing piece, grumbling as he did. His gaze landed on a brightly colored object near the door and he palmed his face. Floating over to the object, he picked it up and moaned, "Chica." He carried the cupcake down the hall as he searched for the animatronics.


"It's not funny."

Chica and Freddy laughed hard enough to lose their balance and fall off their perches on the stage. Freddy rolled awkwardly on the floor while Chica struggled to right her body again.

Puppet looked over his shoulder to find Foxy peaking around the door, snickering. He crossed his arms. "Look, guys, just tell me where the switch is so I can fix my music box and we can move on."

Freddy giggled. "Nuh-uh. We took it and now you have to find it on your own."

"I like this game!" Chica shouted, falling into another fit of laughter.

Puppet sighed. When all of this was over, he was going to find a way to destroy Springtrap's remaining existence, making him the most miserable excuse for an undead zombie cyborg the world had ever seen

Had the world seen any undead zombie cyborgs? Regardless, he'd be the sorriest.

"This isn't a nice game," Puppet tried to explain again. "Stealing people's things isn't funny."

"Sure it is," Chica said sincerely. "I'm laughing and Freddy's laughing and Foxy's laughing and Springtrap's laughing and if Bonnie were in here, he'd be laughing too."

"No, I mean, you might think it's funny, but the person you stole from won't. Did Foxy think it was funny when you took his eye patch, Freddy? Or did that make him sad?"

Foxy called from the door, "Filthy picaroon couldn't make me shed no tears, but I'd as soon mark 'im with a black dot and make 'im dance the hempen jig were he not already sleeping in Davy Jones' locker."

Puppet stared. "Okay. I'm not entirely sure what you just said, but I'm guessing you didn't appreciate being robbed."

Foxy huffed. "No. I didn't."

"But we gave it back," Freddy whined.

"Aye, that be true an' seeing yer face, Puppet, when ya couldn't find yer music switch," he chuckled, "'twas a waggish sight to behold."

"Don't forget when Papa Springtrap called him Mary!" Chica said, causing the three to crack up and laugh again.

Puppet shook his head. "Fine then." He turned to stare straight into a security camera. "If this is how you want to play it, Papa Springtrap, then I won't disappoint you." Back to the animatronics: "Freddy, find Bonnie and get him in here. We're going to need a distraction. Foxy, Chica, you're going to help me play this game."

Freddy pushed himself up and shuffled out the room with a snicker.

"And Chica," the Marionette continued, holding out his hand. "Give me my switch, please."

Chica shrugged, opened the mouth of the cupcake the Marionette had brought back to her and pulled out the switch.

Puppet stared in silence for a good thirty seconds before, "IT WAS RIGHT THERE THE WHOLE TIME?!"

"Didn't ya think ta check the coffer?" Foxy asked.

Chica laughed.


The sound of shattering glass broke the silence. Springtrap stepped on the shards, relishing the sound of their crunching and splintering beneath his weight. He wondered, if he picked one of the pieces up and slid it under his mask, would he be able to feel the burn of severed nerves? He pondered.

"What are you doing, Springtrap?"

Bonnie's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he turned a crooked grin in the rabbit's direction. Memories of a child running to him and hugging him with all her might flooded his thoughts. The child would whisper secrets into the ear of his mask about how her life was at home and how she wanted to spend every day with her friends at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. He had given her her wish and now, somehow, his little girl now stood before him in a giant, purple, robot rabbit. His first daughter.

It sent chills through him.

"I'm breaking a vending machine," he stated plainly.

"Why?" Bonnie asked, tilting his head.

"There's a snickers bar in there and I want it."

Bonnie laughed. "You can't eat that, silly. It'll gum up your endoskeleton."

"You don't know that." He reached for the candy and tore off the packaging. After cramming it into his mouth and chewing for a few dissatisfying seconds, he watched as bits of the bar fell through the many holes in his suit.

In a sudden flash of motion, Springtrap's fist connected with the vending machine's keypad, shattering it and sending sparks flying.

He looked back at Bonnie, noticing the animatronic had taken a tiny step back. "Something you want, kid?" he asked.

"Why are you mad?" Bonnie asked.

He wasn't actually mad, just a little frustrated. Breaking things helped. "I'm stuck in this joint and can't even eat a candy bar," Springtrap said. "Why wouldn't I be a little tense?" He turned to leave, but was almost tripped by the sudden weight of Bonnie's arms being thrown around him in a hug. "What are you doing?" he growled.

Bonnie stepped back. "I thought you were playing Papa, Springtrap? You said we could be your kids and you would be our dad, remember? I was just hugging you."

Springtrap hissed. "I ain't never hugged my dad when I was a kid. The old man was harsh and would break my nose if I even tried. You want me to break your nose, Holly?" He curled his fingers into a fist threateningly, pleasure boiling through his rotten limbs as the rabbit's ears drooped. He laughed. "Hey, I'm just joking, kid. Dads joke, right?" He patted Bonnies face and sauntered down the hall back toward the security room.

Once there he resumed his seat on the swivel chair and absentmindedly flicked through the camera shots. He could see his 'children' playing in different parts of the store and tried to feel something—anything really—over his accomplishment. He had the family he wanted and could be the dad he never had, but he was still empty. Well, not empty. He had plenty of dried and decaying organs left in his springlock suit, but organs weren't emotions so really there was no point to following this line of thought in the first place.

He reached into his drawer again, feeling for the binder that held his precious drawer. They were the only things that seemed to make him feel anymore. He grew frustrated, though, as his fingers searched the space and found it empty. He growled and turned to look and, sure enough, his binder was gone.

Springtrap let a wicked hiss escape his maw, eyes darting around the room wildly in search of his book. He roared, slamming his fists on the desk and hearing the wood crack beneath the force of his blows. "Where is it?!" he yelled. He look back at the security feed and saw the Marionette sitting atop his music box and staring directly at the camera, legs crossed in a cocky, self-satisfied way.

Springtrap threw the screen against the wall and bounded out the room in a rush of hot fury.


His stomps echoed through the pizzeria, loud, ominous and matched only by the sound of his cursing. Puppet smiled inwardly. "See how you like being robbed, Papa Springtrap." He waited patiently for him to come, having sent the animatronics to play so they would not have to watch whatever spectacle Springtrap put on. They had taken to him, oddly enough, and far be it from the Marionette to ask them to endure something that might hurt them after all they'd been through.

"Puppet!" Springtrap growled, hands balled into fists and head low in a frighteningly animalistic way. His jaw creaked as his sadistic grin tried desperately to curve downward into an infuriated grimace.

Puppet's eyeholes glinted with silver lights. "Springtrap," he greeted coolly.

Springtrap rushed him, grabbing him by the throat and pulling him close he hissed, "Where is it?"

"Where's what?" the Marionette asked.

Springtrap shook him. "The freakin' pictures, you dirty little-"

"Watch your language, Papa," he bit back. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about. We've all just been playing games tonight, you know."

Springtrap blinked. He chuckled darkly, releasing the Marionette. His grin seemed to twist into something darker. "Is that so?" He strutted to the back of the music box and ripped out the wiring. "Games like this?" He threw the mechanics on the ground and stomped them into pieces.

"You… You broke it." Puppet slowly sunk to his knees, picking up the tiny pieces of the devise that played his song. The song he had heard since before he could remember. The song that always made him feel safe. "You broke my box."

Springtrap pulled him up and stared him in the eye sockets. "You give me my book right now, kid, or I'm gonna do a whole lot worse."

The Marionette rose into the air, high above Springtrap. The shadows engulfed him and his empty eyes seemed to draw in all the light around them until the room became a heavy, black void.

Springtrap glanced around nervously as he watched the Marionette become the only visible thing in the room.

Puppet snapped his head to the side ghoulishly and began to speak. His voice became a chilling tri-tone as though he were not only one being, but multiple voices speaking at once. His voice reverberated through the floor and shook Springtrap's circuitry. "Is that how your game works?" he asked. "Steal and lie and cheat, children. It's okay as long as it's all… in… fun…" Suddenly he was behind Springtrap, whispering, "How do you like your game?"

Springtrap spun around in time to see the Marionette hold out the stack of his drawing, one hand grasping each corners. "Don't you dare, kid," Springtrap spat.

"You break my toys," Puppet started, slowly tearing the stack in two, "I tear yours."

Springtrap tackled him, breaking his concentration and flooding the room with its usual, ominous light once more. He yanked Puppets arms away from the pages causing them to be thrown into the air. He scrambled to gather them back to himself, checking each one for damage.

The sound of ripping paper echoed in his ears and he froze. He looked down to find a page that had been snagged on a piece of metal jutting from his knee and ripped cruelly in two. It was a yellow bear and a yellow rabbit hugging a small boy with a sloppy pink heart drawn around them, only the rabbit had been torn away leaving only the boy and the bear.

It was fitting, really, and he sank to the floor as he slowly pushed the two pieces back together, knowing that they would never be the same.

Puppet pushed himself up and looked around at the chaos of the room. He suddenly realized what he had done and how far he had gone and, seeing Springtrap sitting so pathetically on the floor, mourning the loss of one of his precious pages, he was overcome with grief. How could he have acted so cruelly? How could he have allowed himself to slip so far so fast?

He thought he was better than that now. He thought he had overcome this dark side of himself when Dave had stepped into the suit.

Dave.

Springtrap.

"I…" Puppet hovered behind him, gently placing a slender hand on Springtrap's shoulder. "I didn't mean to… I'm so sorry, Springtrap."

The rabbit slowly looked up at him; his grin seemed empty. "What was your name?"

Puppet paused. "What?"

"I knew them. I was making my family so my kids had to be special. You wouldn't understand it, no one would have, but I did. I still do. They needed to be rescued from my fate." He sighed. "I knew what I was and I knew why I was what I was. Bad home life growing up, junk when I got older and a messed up brain from the start. I never had a chance."

Puppet watched him.

"When I put on the suit, kids came running. They told me how much they loved me and some," he gestured to the drawings on the floor, "some told me things. They told me stuff their parents and guardians and siblings did to them. They told me things they'd of never told anyone else. They said they wished they could stay with me forever."

"You do realize that by 'you' they meant Fredbear and Spring Bonnie, right?"

Springtrap shrugged, looking down at his hands. "I became a part of the suit when I put it on. They were talking to me." He clenched his fists. "I didn't know how to help them at first. Then one day some junk happened. I was angry and I saw you out there crying and… I didn't know anything about you, but… When I saw you, I saw myself. I did to you what I wished someone would have done to me. Ended my misery, y'know? You probably weren't even miserable." He laughed, but it was hollow, almost sorrowful. "I thought… I thought I could save the kids. Keep 'em with me forever." He looked around the room. "Guess it kinda worked…"

The Marionette sat beside him in silence. He slowly picked up some of the pages and studied their drawings. "I won't pretend to get you, because I don't. I don't know what kind of demented person could find any reason to think killing a kid is okay. I'm disappointed." He handed the pages to Springtrap. "All this time, I thought there was something special about me in a twisted sort of way that made you choose me that day. Now I know I was just an outlet for your anger. The first victim in a spree. Maybe that's why I'm different from the others. Why I remember more…"

"Why you're special," Springtrap finished plainly.

Puppet choked a bit. He had always hoped to be special in some way. It was messed up, he knew that, but hearing Springtrap say it… Somehow it almost felt good.

"Why were you crying, if you don't mind my asking."

The Marionette shrugged. "I saw something a kid should never have to see. My brother was supposed to meet me outside Fredbear's. Guess he got there too late."

Springtrap nodded slowly. "Morning's almost here. You should get back in your box. I'll, uh… I'm sure someone will fix it soon."

Puppet looked away. He stood, staring at his box. "I don't get you. I don't understand. I'll never try to justify what you did or tell you it was okay. I hope you realize that."

"Yeah," Springtrap said almost sadly. "I do."

"But we're all stuck here now. It wouldn't be right to keep going like this. In some sick way, I guess you finally got your little family. But if you really want to play this dad role, you should step it up. No more lying, no more stealing and no more bullying." Puppet looked back at him. "My name was Tyler." He climbed into his box and went limp as the sun rose outside.

Springtrap gathered the rest of his pages and hobbled back to the closet he hid in during the day. "I always liked the name Tyler," he mumbled, holding the torn page up. "Tyler."