Part I
Every fourth day, Mike Schmidt would head to the little popular bakery on the street conner, hidden amongst the crowded street diners and cafes. Mike was always told by Jeremy to buy supermarket bread. But Mike always thought it was worth the ten minute walk from the police station to grab a fresh loaf of wholemeal bread.
Mike had grown up eating wholemeal bread, he didn't like white and neither did Felix. Who told him about this little bakery.
"It's great honestly. I have the issue with white bread where it sticks to the roof of my mouth so I like a decent bread loaf of wholemeal. Mike it's the best." He told him one day. Mike eventually found the bakery and learnt it was built years ago in the 1970s and stayed popular for years. People lined up in the early morning to get the perfect warm loaf to make sandwiches or use for a heart warming toasted sandwich.
The bakery looked like it came all the way from the 1960s, the shop front was cute, with white lace on the front window, decorated with pictures of bread, lists of daily specials and the name; "Sweet Treats Bakery."
With a name like that, no one hated it.
Inside the walls were painted a bright green, the walls were plastered with many awards, all the bread was cooked in a wooden fire oven. It smelt delicious. Mike always believed the best cakes and bread came from this place. They would keep the bread warm in a slow heat electric oven, and all the iced cakes cold in their refrigerator cabinets. Everything looked appetising to the eye, and it was the same for the amazing tastes.
Mike came in the door, the bell at the top rang to tell the staff of his entrance. The best day to be here was a Thursday, which was today. Thursdays were the quiet days. Especially in the early afternoon when Mike was on a lunch break. Mike would stand for a few seconds to smell the warm bread coming from out of the oven somewhere at the back.
"Hello how can I help you today?"—Mike knew who that was by her voice, the owner's wife. She was older than him, by about 20 or 30 years. She was old enough to be his mother. She was still good looking for her age. She had short dark blonde hair that curled at the end and bubbly purple eyes. She wore a green shirt with the yellow apron with the store's name stitched on.
"Can I please get one loaf of wholemeal?" He asked holding out a five dollar bill.
"Certainly." She smiled warmly, "that's $3.20 today." She dinged up the register and placed the bill in and gave Mike back his change.
"Thank you."
"Won't be a moment." She added as he went to sit down on one of the cute little green chairs.
"I also want to tell you we have a special today." She smiled again.
"Okay. Hit me with it." Mike nodded. He always liked the special deals.
"We have made our speciality dish today. Our "Charlotte Cakes." For five dollars you can get a small coffee and a cake to share with yourself and one friend."
"Sounds interesting." Mike nodded, being very tempted.
"I'll call my husband to explain more." She walked away to the back to find her husband who was most likely baking.
Her husband came in and walked towards Mike. His apron was more messier and he stood there looking proud.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Carlos Thomason. I'm the owner. Are you interested in our "Charlotte Cakes"?" He asked.
"Yea. It sounds like a good deal for five dollars. What's the cause?" Mike asked, knowing there had to be a reason behind such a great deal.
"That's personal to my heart sir."
"No. No. C'mon I won't judge." He told him.
"Alright. Well you see..." he looked down a little, "24 years ago today I lost my daughter."
"Dam... I'm sorry."
"She was murdered but they never found the body. Her name was Charlotte. And she was my little special chef." He sighed.
"24 years ago..." Mike repeated having a sick feeling.
"I loved her with all my heart... which is why... every dollar that is collected will go to the "protect Children" foundation."
Mike knew about the foundation, it was all based on the protection of kids, in any situation. If they were victims of abuse, gravely ill or homeless. The money would go towards helping them in anyway possible. Such as funding for their educations or new clothes if needed. Rebecca loved the foundation's work and would always pull out a twenty dollar bill when the charity man came to their door.
"Okay I'll take you up on it." Mike slid across five dollars.
"Thank you sir." Carlos smiled. Happy someone cared enough to help other children just like his little girl. His beautiful little girl.
"How does it taste?"
"I'm in heaven Mike!" Rebecca squealed. Mike figured the best person to share it with was his wife.
The Charlotte Cakes were cupcakes. But they were tasty and Mike was licking his fingers clean, not caring if it was childish. And these were no small cupcakes you get at the supermarket. They were huge! They were almost the size of big muffins. He wanted to savour the sweet tastes of the soft, spongy vanilla cake, covered in powered sugar and yellow icing swirled up in a pile with white and purple sprinkles.
Every bite was sweetness. But it was all balanced. Mike could tell. He tasted sugar and cinnamon, the icing was perfect and had a small hint of lemon that balanced everything. Every bite was enjoyed by the couple who didn't have a worry; not even Sarah because she had fallen asleep in her play pen.
"I'd really like to get a birthday cake from there one day." Rebecca smiled, "they look so beautiful!"
"I agree." Mike nodded.
"Mike is there something bothering you?" Rebecca looked at him seeing a face he only displayed when he had something gambling in his mind. This was often when he had a case to solve. But no work had been given as far as he knew.
It was true Mike was bothered by something; Carlos said he lost his daughter 24 years ago today. Today is the anniversary of the children's death, Mike was familiar with the date. Because of Felix Sullivan, every year on this day, he'd cut himself from the world for a whole day, he would visit the grave of his brother Finn Sullivan and leave flowers. Despite he was never found, the town built graves stones for them. Five children died that day, Mike was only familiar with Finn, who was Foxy the Pirate. He didn't know the other children's names. Maybe they didn't know their own names either, because of what Marionette told him; he said they would only remember if a trigger was given.
"Michael Schmidt something is wrong. What is it?" Rebecca lend over closer to him, her hand eased over onto his shoulder. His heart started to beat more in this second, but he had to ignore it. Rebecca asked a question.
"The owner of the bakery... Carlos Thomason.. you know him."
"Yes. He's a nice man. 58 years old. Has a family. He's a great man. He's kind and makes great bread and cakes. I've seen one of his kids. He has five grandchildren. They're so sweet and kind."
"He said these cakes... are a tribute... to his daughter. She died 24 years, he said she was murdered and they never found the body... you don't think?"
"Mike are you suggesting that? It's connected to Freddy's?" Rebecca knew now what he was getting at.
"Possibly." Mike nodded, "today's the 24th anniversary."
"Call Felix then. He said he has ties with all the families."
"No. Marionette asked me directly not to infer with anything." He repeated Marionette's own words. He directly asked for no inferences when it came to regaining memories.
"No! No! I don't accept that Michael Schmidt! They're lonely! They're lost! Please do something! To help them! To help the family!" Rebecca begged, "If my daughter was taken I'd want her back! No matter how long it took!"
"Okay. But you know this is the day where Felix cuts himself out... so I think we have to turn to another person... I think I know who to ask..."
"These are very old case files Michael." George told him walking into the storage area where old cases were kept. Mike did sneeze a few times because of the dust they had brought up and the lights that hung above were flickering, obviously old.
"I know but I need to see a photo of them. And I need the contact details of Carlos Thomason and his family."
"Alright. But why?"
"I think I found their daughter."
"Charlotte? She's dead Mike."
"No! She's not!"
"Oh it's that Freddy's thing isn't it? You know that creeps the fuck out of me." George nodded opening a cabinet and finding the file. "Here. This is what you need Mike."
"Thank you." Mike smiled.
"You're welcome." George nodded as Mike opened the file and found the photo of Charlotte.
Blonde hair and purple eyes. She looked like her mother and father. She had her mother's purple eyes and her father's facial shape. But she looked like...
Chica.
"Chica..."
"What?"
"It's Chica!" Mike exclaimed scaring him, "It's Chica! Chica is Charlotte! It makes sense! Her name is similar!"
"You think Carlos is Chica's father?" George asked frowning unsure.
"I think so but we need an excuse for Chica to see him and see if it triggers a memory!"
"I'm sorry you lost me."
"A memory trigger. Marionette told me if they are remember, they need a trigger to unlock the memories. You know Foxy is-"
"Felix's brother and Ben's son aka Finn Sullivan."
"Foxy calls himself Foxy Sullivan the Pirate now."
"No wonder. Wants to hang on his human side."
"He is half human, half machine and half fox."
"You need my help with anything?"
"Maybe. Can you keep your day open?"
"Well no cases need to be looked at and someone told me to take a day off."
"Thanks."
"We're outta bread!"—This was perfect Mike thought, Freddy wanted to make a sandwich only to find out they were all out of bread.
"Why can't you have something else?" BonBon asked
"I want a sandwich! A healthy sandwich dam it!" Freddy screamed.
"Hey I know a place where you can get bread." Mike suggested seeing the chance.
"The supermarket?" Freddy asked.
"No! No! Good quality bread! Very good bread from a bakery!"
"What's a Bake-ray?" BonBon questioned
"Bakery. Say it right." Shaffy scowled.
"I'll say it how ever I want! You're not real go away!"
"Well at lease I don't hide huge zits on my face with a shit tonne of makeup that makes it more obvious!"
"Hey! Hey!" Mike yelled, "stop fighting!"
"Thank you for keeping peace. Now tell me about this bakery." Freddy huffed from exhaustion.
"It makes bread, cakes and all that."
"Alright then. Let's go." Freddy smiled, clearly happy with the short answer he received.
"Now?"
"Yes now. I'd like to have my sandwich before 4 in the dam afternoon."
"Okay. Hey Chica you wanna tag along?"
"Why?" She asked from the sink, she had been there the whole time washing dishes.
Shit. Mike hadn't thought of this part. "W-well maybe it could be educational. Learning about food!"
"Alright then! Let's go!" Chica eagerly joined, the sweat on Mike's head started to dry up. He thought it was all good to go.
"Wait a moment."
Until that happened. Marionette's long fingers grabbed Mike's shirt collar and dragged him backwards, frightening him, he knew who it was but knowing who it was frighten him.
"We need to have a quick word Michael." Marionette told him taking him into his room and closing the door behind him.
"I know what you are doing." He spoke not facing him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Didn't some role model in your life tell you lying is wrong?" He turned to face him with a eyebrow raised.
Mike knew he was caught now. Marionette knew what he wanted to do and he was caught.
"I'm sorry-"
"Uh Buh-buh." He put up his finger, giving the clear signal he wanted him to shut up, "I predicted this. You want to bring Chica back to her parents? That's okay. But I advise you. When Chica starts to jitter, please catch her. Or bad things are bound to happen if she hits the ground in shock."
"Pardon? what?" Mike asked.
"Get on your way and fulfil your current destiny!" Marionette shoved him along.
Mike took Freddy and Chica to the bakery, hoping he could reunite Chica with her mother and father. He played a part in bringing Felix and Ben back to Foxy.
"Looks cute." Chica commented as they entered.
"Back again?" Carlos' Wife asked seeing Mike. "I'm sorry I don't know your name."
"Michael Schmidt. I prefer Mike. This is Freddy Fazbear." He introduced.
"The mascot of the pizzeria?" She questioned, her face went a little white, he knew she felt stressed by seeing the friendly mascot from the pizzeria where a heartless and gruesome man took her daughter's life in the midst of a creepy night.
"Yes. He needs bread. So I took him here."
"Oh okay! I'm Lucy by the way. It's nice to meet you."
"How's much is your bread?" Freddy got down to business like he always did.
"Depends on what you need. Our wholemeal loaf which is 500 grams is $3.20. White bread is $4.20, if you want half a loaf it's $2.30. Our bread roll prices vary because of different types. The long rolls which are suitable for hotdogs and sausages are $1.10 each, however if you buy eight it's $6.00."
"I suppose we do need a loaf. We might want toast tomorrow..."
"You want a loaf?" Lucy asked.
"Wholemeal please." Freddy fished out the coins from his pocket.
"Exact change good job." Lucy smiled. "Hello down there." She said to Chica who was admiring the cakes in the case. Chica became aware of her and stood up to her feet.
"You've got very pretty hair." Chica told her, but once she full looked at her, she felt strange. Her heart beats started to slow down, something in her mind was knocking, it was like a light was trying to turn on to make her remember something... Or someone...
"So have you." Lucy smiled figured it was fair to say something nice back, "what's your name?"
Chica couldn't talk. The words didn't come out. Her heart was still beating slowly, her head started to throb and spin. This woman's warm smile just did something to her. She felt sick, cautious and dizzy.
"Are you alright?" Lucy asked noticing she started to look pale.
It was a few seconds later when Chica's vision collapsed and her feet gave away, resulting in her hitting the floor as a result of fainting. Mike and Freddy freaked out. Lucy shrieked frighten.
"Chica! Chica can you hear me?!" Mike asked trying to sit her up.
"Carlos! Carlos! We've got a fainter!" Lucy screamed.
"She's alright. She just fainted. I think it was the shock of seeing you again." Mike slipped out. By the time he realised, it was too late to take it back.
"I'm sorry. What? I've never met her before." She shook her head.
"Sit her up Mike." Freddy told her, "Mrs Thomason please get a cold towel."
"How did you know my last name?" Lucy asked starting to get freaked out.
"I just do." Freddy nodded, Mike thought it had backfired a little, but the he had the idea of Freddy remembering who she was. Which was not what he wanted but if he remembered it would be good.
"We're closed now! Go away!" Lucy yelled to a customer, who then quickly dashed out.
"Get the towel!" Freddy ordered.
"Alright!" Lucy nodded walking away.
"Chica c'mon. Wake up." Mike told her.
"You didn't catch her." —Mike screamed startled when Marionette suddenly appeared behind him.
"That's what the hell you meant?! Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did."
"In proper human language! I don't understand the occult language!" Mike exclaimed angrily now understanding what he meant, but for crying out loud why did he say it like that?
"Where's the fainter?!" Carlos rushed out seeing Chica in Mike's arms. "Is that your wife?"
"No. My wife is Rebecca Schmidt. This is Chica."
"M-my daughter loved Chica. She loved chickens in general. She wanted to have one as a pet. I said no of course." Carlos' mind wandered and he began to talk about his daughter again.
"I've called an ambulance." Lucy came back out. "Who are you?" She looked at Marionette.
"Pardon my manners. I did knock but you might not have heard me. I'm Marionette. You're Lucy Thomason."
"How do you know my name?"
"I'm a crystal gazer with no crystal ball. My abilities happen naturally." Marionnette answered.
"You can see the future?"
"Past, present and the most likely future. Which is why I warned Mike about Chica's fall. You might not already know Chica is a spiritual vessel which contains the very essences of the human spirit that is left of your human daughter Charlotte."
"I'm sorry. What?" Lucy asked confused.
"I'm not explaining again." He huffed.
"Is Chica gonna be alright?" Mike asked.
"I see an empty chair. A kitchen full of orders with no chef. Also Raccoon."
"What does the raccoon have to do with the future."
"The raccoons' outside digging in the trash." Marionette pointed the small animal out who was outside digging in someone's trash can.
"Is there anything else?"
"Tears. I see tears. If a colourful tear shall fall from eyes of thy magical weeper, memories will re-knit themselves and the future will ease back into a pattern."