He took a long drag of a cigarette and sighed as he leaned back in his chair, his deep brown hair and freckled face looking over the desk he now sat in front of. His eyes were a deep, lovely green just like his daughter's, his face friendly yet worn, the faded jacket he wore over his plain white shirt slightly scratchy, just like the stubble on his face. The engineer quietly breathed a puff of smoke to the side as the man behind the desk placed his hands together, resting them on top of the design schematics for his creations...his toys. His animatronics. His...babies.

"There's no doubting what you've achieved on a TECHNICAL level. These are clearly state of the art." The man said, giving a calm nod as the engineer quietly took another drag of his cigarette. The man behind the desk tapped a finger on the schematics on top, tilting his head slightly. "There are just certain...design choices that were made for these robots that we don't fully understand. We were hoping you could shed some light on those."

"She can dance, she can sing! She's equipped with a built-in helium tank for inflating balloons right at her fingertips. She can take song requests." The British engineer sighed softly, looking at the schematic on the desk of his special Baby. Dear Circus Baby, who'd been his pride and joy. Who's very rosy smile he'd modeled after his daughter. "She can even dispense ice cream." The tall, slightly-too-thin-for-his-jacket engineer intoned. He looked as though he'd once been quite robust and powerful, but now poor health had begun to take its toll upon what had been a fine frame once upon a time.

The man behind the desk seemed to hesitate, and then his tone became slightly more...cold.

"With all due respect...those AREN'T the design choices we were curious about, Mr. Afton..."

William V. Afton flinched...and he dug his free hand into his knee as he extinguished the cigarette, and the last bit of smoke wafted lazily through the air in the Human Resource Room.

"...it wasn't exactly...I had made them to bring joy to children. Sometimes what's meant to be a happy thing can...turn tragic. And you don't even realize what you've done until it's too late to be stopped."

"You're sure you want to take this position? It's quite the step down." The Human Resource manager intoned quietly. "You could have just accepted the severence pay. Taking such a huge pay cut-"

"Yes." William said curtly. "Who else but me could handle them properly? You haven't had much luck with other hirees, have you? It's been three months and not a one of them has lasted a week, correct?"

The Human Resource Manager sighed and placed his hands together, taking in a deep breath as he looked down at the schematics. "Very well, Mr. Afton. You make a good point. You've certainly got the experience needed, and we DO appreciate you not suing us over what had happened several months ago."

"I appreciate you not suing me." William said. "Let's just call this a...fresh start. I'm just like any other employee now." He remarked with a little freckled smile.

Just like any other employee at Circus Baby's Rentals and Entertainment, a subsidiary of Fazbear Entertainment, owned by Afton Electronics LLC. He would have had more leverage normally, but unfortunately the Board of Directors had worked their scheming magic and he had been unable to manage anything more than this. Normally he would have wanted to simply buy up the place completely, but after what had happened, all he really had to trade on was his name and experience. Most of his money had gone into settling lawsuits. Parents were furious.

In all honesty, he was surprised, to an extent, that the company was letting him do this. He had wondered if perhaps they'd just toss him completely under the bus, blame HIM for what had happened. The company...this foolish company. It was supposed to rent out animatronics for children, having their original purpose of being used in a pizzeria destroyed due to said pizzeria being shut down due to a gas leak. And people had been furious over an awful incident with a child that had happened at a birthday party. TWO incidents had happened, in fact. It had been an accident, really, but...still...

"So when do I start?" William sighed.

...

...

...

..."Daddy...why won't you let me play with her?"

"Welcome to the first day of your exciting new career! Whether you were approached at a job fair, read our ad in "Screws, Bolts and Hairpins", or if this is the result of a dare, we welcome you." The PDA system informed him as he leaned back against the elevator, sighing as he hung his head, hair flopping about. There were various posters on the interior of the elevator, which, like ALL his creations, was state of the art as well, surely ahead of its time. Powerful steel doors, pipes running up the walls with circular valves, a keypad on the wall, a set of circular lights high above him that were underneath a gigantic rotating fan...all of it was his designs. His work.

Especially the animatronic on display on the post on the wall. A white body with red hair that matched her big red nose and rosy cheeks and pretty little dress...deep blue eyes...a microphone in her hands and a big ol' smile, that? That was Circus Baby. His pride and joy. His gaze lingered on it for what seemed to be an eternity as his "personal guide" droned on and on. The "HandiUnit" kept blabbing on and on in its annoyingly faux-helpful voice on how it was here to help, how his new job offered "endless janitorial opportunities" and that he should enter in his name on a slightly googly-eyed keypad that popped up from the center of the elevator.

The keypad, however, kept flashing and shifting, the buttons swishing back and forth and making it impossible to try and hit anything accurately. William grunted in annoyance, randomly pressing a button to try and enter his name.

"It seems you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type and I will autocorrect for you. Welcome...Eggs Benedict!" HandiUnit cheerily intoned.

"Oh, bloody hell." William grunted as the keypad shot back into the elevator and he groaned, tugging his face down with his hands, looking at another poster on the wall of the ballerina animatronic, "Ballora". She had a lovely purplish/pink tutu, painted lips, deep purplish/blue hair tied back in a bun, and pretty ballet shoes, her eyes eternally closed. She was regal and sophisticated, and a bit more...adult. She even had breasts, after all. He didn't really put those on his animatronics, not usually. But she'd been different, oh yes. Slightly modeled after his wife, in truth.

Besides, girls needed to learn that...GASP! Women had breasts when they grew up! Better to learn it sooner than later. Kids today were too bloody sheltered and stupid. Why did they have to be so stupid and...

...why couldn't he stop thinking about his own daughter. He'd told her, no. No, she shouldn't be around that animatronic. Play with the little plushtrap I made for you instead. It was a popular little toy, after all, with a powerful bite. Like a fingertrap! Snap-snap.

He chuckled a bit, remembering one bratty little shite who'd complained to his company about the plushtrap's strong jaws and saying it shouldn't be so strong. Then, to demonstrate, the idiot had put her finger IN THE PLUSHTRAP'S MOUTH and of course it had clamped down! She'd spent the next ten minutes running around the room, yelling, hands flopping about as the plushtrap bounced about along with her flailing hand as they tried to take it off. The whole point was NOT to put your fingers near its mouth like that. Whatever happened to personal responsibility? Why did kids have to be so damn stupid?

Still, it was time to start working. He'd arrived at the floor he'd be working at. He knew, because he could hear the cute little circus music playing over the PDA, and he sighed, pressing the bright, red and obvious button on the side of the wall by the Ballora poster. THWOOSH! The doors slid open, and he made his way through a long vent shaft that would take him to the control room. He wasn't sure why they'd not made the vent shaft into a larger hall...oh, right.

So the animatronics couldn't fit in. He'd forgotten about that. He could get absentminded at times. It was why he hadn't been paying attention that-

...at any rate, he calmly began crawling through the vent, sighing as the stupid "HandiUnit" kept speaking through the PDA system. "Allow me to fill this ominous silence with some lighthearted banter."

"How about you don't?" William grunted as he kept shimmying through the vent. He was sure this damn fool thing existed just to drive him mad.

"Due to the massive success and unfortunate CLOSING of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, it was clear that the stage was set, no pun intended, for another contender in children's entertainment. Unlike most entertainment venues, our robotic entertainers are rented out for private parties during the day. And it's YOUR job to get the robots back in proper working order for the following morning."

"Don't I feel lucky." William chuckled to himself as he kept moving through the vent shaft, finally exiting out into a large, faintly-lit-with-a-pair of-green-lights control room. There were two large windows, one to the right, another to the left, with keypads that had two buttons on them. Though currently inactive, he could tell the top buttons were blue, with a "light" button on it, and the bottom buttons were red with a lightning bolt upon it. On the walls in front of him, a vent opening in the middle, masks flanked the sides and the top along with a pair of security TV screens. William frowned at the sight of the masks, wishing they'd gotten rid of them a long while ago. Not every animatronic idea had worked out so well. Especially not that red-nosed, overly-boyish one that hung over the top of the gigantic cooling fan in front of him, that...faintly clownish faced thing that looked like a bad Pinocchio ripoff. UGH.

Ignoring the masks as best he could, he glanced at the vent shafts underneath the windows, then at the keypads, one of them lighting up. It was his job to check to see if Ballora was on stage now. So he pressed the blue button as the faint green lights cast a sickly glow over the control room, and looked inside Ballora's stage.

Nothing. She wasn't in front of the purple-curtained stage.

"Uhoh! Looks like Ballora doesn't feel like dancing."

"Well, she can dance if she wants to. She can leave her friends behind. Cuz her friends don't dance, and if they don't dance, then they're no friends of mine!" William chuckled, doing a little "Safety Dance" on the spot as HandiUnit deliberately waited, almost sounding annoyed as it spoke back up.

"Let's...give her some motivation. Press the red button to administer a controlled shock. Maybe that'll put the spring back in her step!"

"Well, I do like giving people a shock." William confessed with a wry smile, pressing the red button that had the lightning symbol on it as the sound of electricity sizzled through the air. He then checked the light again and, sure enough, Ballora was slowly twirling about on stage along with her Mini-Ballerinas or "Minireenas" as William called them. They had a faintly puppet-like white face and had their hands above their heads as they twirled about, just like Ballora, and William turned to the other keypad on the right side of the room.

The Funtime Auditorium, where "Funtime Foxy" was. William turned on the light...nothing. Nothing but shadows and dust. He then pressed the shock button, and was sure that he could see the animatronic slightly SQUIRMING below a giant, almost cattle-prod esque mechanic that had jabbed into her. He blinked a bit, then turned the light on.

...nothing. He tried the shock again. The crackle of electricity filled the air and William turned the light on once more. This time, Foxy was on the stage, calmly waving and bowing its head...briefly turning to look squarely in his direction. Eyes deep yellow and piercing as if to say

"I know...that was you."

"Looks like Funtime Foxy is in perfect working order!" HandiUnit cheerily intoned as the vent below the cooling fan and below that hateful mask shot open. "Great job! In front of you is another vent shaft. Crawl through it to reach the Circus Gallery Control Module!"

William relented, continuing to make his way through the vent, finding himself in a circular room with large windows all around, an ugly little cheery puppet-esque bobblehead sitting atop one of several control panels below the central window. Helium tanks laid abandoned to his left, a much larger tank to his right along with various fans, and, of course, a keypad for shocking, just like in the previous room. He sighed and sat down in the control room's chair, HandiUnit telling him to turn on the light.

Click! Nothing. A few of the lights were out, only the one right in front of him turned on instead of exposing the entire stage in light. "Let's cheer up Baby with a controlled shock!" HandiUnit intoned, that ugly, UGLY bobblehead looking right into William's face, that stupid smile spread from ear to ear.

He turned it around so it faced the window, frowning as he delivered a controlled shock. BRRRZZZTTT! Turning the lights on...

Nothing. So he tried another controlled shock, cringing as he did so. This was like a new version of the "Milligram Experiment", he inwardly grumbled, shaking his head back and forth.

...still nothing. At all. Where-

"Great job, Circus Baby! We knew we could count on you!" HandiUnit said, William stiffening slightly, feeling an ugly, foul coldness creeping up the back of his spine. Something wasn't right here. "That concludes your first night on the job. We don't want you to leave overwhelmed, otherwise you might not come back! Please leave using the vent behind you and we'll see you again tomorrow!"

William slowly rose up, glancing about, peering into the infinite black behind the windows, listening. LISTENING. He couldn't hear anything but the soft rotating fans and the faint hum of electrical wiring as he gripped the chair tightly, biting his lip, eyes peering out into the black. Nothing but silence greeted him. Nothing but shadows and dust.

He slowly eased himself down, turning around and making his way through the vent, shimmying further and further...

Hearing a THUD noise echoing right behind him.

And he tore through the vent, barreling out the exit and into the elevator, panting and heaving as the door slammed shut, and it made its way up, up, back into safety and into the light as he wiped his brow. Thank goodness for small mercies...and solid steel doors.

...

...

...

..."Another day, another dramatic entry in the lives of Vlad and his distressed mistress!"

William chuckled, calmly munching away on the bowl of popcorn he had in front of him, his rather olde-fashioned TV set playing his favorite cartoon, "The Immortal and the Restless".

"Where will they go? What will they do? All of that and more, happening right now!" The faintly Romanian-sounding narrator intoning as the light from a sepia-toned lamp illuminated his lonely living room, a clock in the shape of an abstract sun slowly ticking away on the walls as William munched and munched.

"Clara, I tell you, the baby isn't mine!" Vlad remarked on the screen, his skin a faintly undead blue, his jacket a deep purple similar to William's own, his hair a greyish/black as the vampire pleaded with his beloved wife.

"Count, I tell you that it IS!" Clara insisted in her long-sleeved green shirt, her sleeves rolled up her arms as she gave him an annoyed glare, one hand on her hips, the other gesturing over at the tot in a cradle not too far away in the castle they called home. "You're the only vampire I've ever loved!"

"Ah, vampire and human love stories, THOSE won't ever get old." William chuckled.

"And the baby turns his bottles into powdered milk!" Clara added. Sure enough, a flashback showed the baby was the same skin tone as Vlad, looking down, stunned, his baby bottle now turned into nothing more than powder in its hands as it gave a dissapointed "goo" in its cute little blue suit.

"That doesn't mean anything!" Vlad insisted with a "harrumph.

"HE SLEEPS ON THE CEILING FAN." She proclaimed, another flashback showing the tot's arms crossed over its chest, hanging from the turned-off ceiling fan above.

"Upright or upside-down?" Vlad asked, looking almost intrigued.

"Why does it matter?!" Clara groaned, grabbing Vlad by his jacket and angrily shaking him. "You need to be part of your son's life!" She insisted, William savoring the show and the buttery popcorn as he nonchalantly munched away.

"I'm an old man, Clara! I can't BE a father!" Vlad insisted, shaking his head as Clara pointed accusingly at him.

"Well then at least pay your child support, you DEADBEAT!" She proclaimed.

"Emphasis on "dead"." William chuckled as he tossed a single popcorn kernel into the air and caught it in his mouth. "My, my, truly artem imitatur vitam."

"Will Vlad and his distressed mistress find common ground? Tune in next time on "The Immortal and the Restless!" The narrator intoned, William letting out a yawn as he began to slump down in his chair, and drift off into hazy sleep.

"Daddy...you let the OTHER children go see her! Why won't you let ME go?"

"Baby, you're too little..." William whispered. "...too...little. And you deserve so much better. The others aren't like you, you're SO much better than them and you deserve so, so much better than all those silly little kids...promise me you...won't...go...near..."

He awoke to the sound of her scream.

He ALWAYS...awoke...to the sound of her scream.

Unbeknownst to William Afton, someone else was horribly enduring terrible dreams. Dreams of the past...dreams of tragedy, just like his own. It was someone Afton knew well, for after all, his best friend was the child's father, and had owned a place of pride and joy...the Fredbear Diner. A place of magic and fantasy, where William Afton's Fredbear, aka "Golden Freddy", could perform for the children. Afton hadn't been too keen on his daughter being around Golden Freddy either...said it was a bit too dangerous. And it had been a relief to see his daughter didn't much like Fredbear any more than his best friend's son Adam did.

Poor Adam was not sleeping well...

At all.

"Five days until the party." Adam thought aloud, his little brown hair flopped down around his head as he hugged his legs, sitting atop his blue-sheeted bed, head bowed low as he sniffled. "F-Five days." He murmured, picking up his little purple-bowtied, purple-hatted Fredbear teddy bear and holding it tightly to his chest. He softly breathed in the faint smell of fresh-baked bread that seemed to waft up from "Golden Freddy" as he faintly heard it speak in that comforting way.

"What did he do this time? He locked you in your room again."

Adam tightly hugged his lil' teddy and whimpered. He hated it. He hated being trapped and alone. Some days, not even Golden Freddy helped.

"Don't be scared. I'm here with you." Golden Freddy softly said, Adam looking around his room, eyes scanning past the purple dresser drawer that housed an equally purple lamp, looking at his other plushies. He walked over to them, lifting them up one at a time, whimpering a bit. Bonnie's soft blue fur with the scent of blueberries, Chica the Chicken and her cute little pink cupcake on a plate, Freddy Fazbear and his adorable little top hat, all were perfectly fine. But his favorite, Foxy? Foxy's red-furred body that smelled like cherries had its little hook hand...but no head.

His brother had probably taken off the head. Jeremy always liked to do that kind of awful stuff. Angrily, eyes a mixture of rage and sorrow, Adam raced over to the door and banged on it. "LEMME OUT! LEMME OUT! AND GIMME BACK HIS HEAD!"

Utter, absolute silence. Adam kept banging, his tiny little fists slamming against the door before he began to slowly curl up into a ball on the patchwork quilted rug of the floor and quietly began to cry. His tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he sobbed, brown hair flopping down as he whimpered pitifully, Golden Freddy's voice echoing in his head and in his heart.

"Tomorrow is another day..."

...

...

...

...Adam awoke, his eyes wide. He quivered with fear, his grey, almost silver eyes wide as sweat matted his brow. The floor of his room felt cold beneath his barren feet as he raced across the room, away from the Freddy plushie on his bed and the warmth of his familiar patchwork comforter. He slowly creaked the white door open, cringing a bit, wishing there wasn't two ways to enter his new bedroom...two doors. He gulped, and listened, a flashlight left by the doorway which he picked up, the "Freddy Flashlight" aiming out into the darkness, Freddy's open mouth spewing forth light.

Nothing was in the deep orange-reddish walls, the hallway abandoned. There were windows showing naught but darkness, the entire house empty and barren as a cemetery, a lamp on a far-off table some distance down the hall and a ceiling light high above him, a blotch of golden/brown on grey. He then closed the door and ran to the other side of the room, flashing his flashlight down THAT hallway, seeing the many pictures on the wall.

His mother, his father, his brother, they all had photographs on display on the wall. Yet something wasn't right. They looked...off. He wasn't quite sure why, but, they looked too-

And then his brother's eye winked at him.

Adam yelped, slamming the door shut and holding it tight, cringing as he ran over to the closet, wondering if perhaps he should race in and hide inside with his favorite Foxy plushie, but as soon as he opened up the closet, the darkness within brought a chill that ran up his spine, making him shiver and shudder as he quivered nervously, faintly...hearing...

...breathing. Breathing from the other side of the room. He raced over to the other side, and held the flashlight up, flashing it. He faintly saw the tiniest shimmer of something blue that shot back into the hallway it had come out from, Adam shuddering as he closed the door, waiting for a few moments before checking back outside. Nothing. He breathed a sigh of relief, turning back to his bed before gasping.

Something was on his bed along with the Freddy plushie. It looked positively foul and frightening, its teeth like daggers, its eyes tiny pinpoints of deadlights that gleamed unnaturally, making Adam shudder as it quivered and shook like a demonic bobblehead. It giggled a bit before vanishing, hopping off the bed and dissipating into the darkness as Adam quivered with fear, its soft, almost mocking laughter ringing through the air as he shook his head rapidly back and forth. No, no, NO! This couldn't be happening! This couldn't!

He then heard the breathing again. This time coming from the door on the right side of his room. And much...much closer.

He ran over to the door as he heard the faint thudda-thudda-thud of heavy footsteps racing towards his room and tugged the door shut, holding it there as hard as he could, hearing the heavy, foul breathing on the other end. He quivered with fear as he could FEEL something thick and deadly being pressed against the door, a large, robotic, foul hand that wanted to rip him in two, to rend him asunder.

"Why don't you let me in?" A distinctly male voice inquired, sounding almost faintly showoffy, and yet...there was a decidedly twisted, foul, unnaturalness to its tone as Adam held the door tightly shut, eyes wide, trying not to scream. He gripped the door handle with a level of ferocity and fear unparalleled by most kids his age, hell, with a ferocity and fear most ADULTS never experienced. "I've got a special lil' song just for you. Come on in and I'll play it for ya, Adam. Just need some parts for my guitar. New strings. You're not REALLY using your intestines, now are you?"

Adam was REALLY trying hard not to scream. To think, he used to find Bonnie funny.

"Come on. Think how much fun it'll be to be part of a rock band, Adam! LITERALLY. Part of a rock band." The twisted voice inquired as Adam shook and shuddered...but kept the door held shut. He was NOT going to give this monstrous imitation the satisfaction. For a long, long time, almost an eternity, he held the door shut, and then, at last...he heard the breathing fading, and he let out a soft sigh of relief as he heard the faint beeping of his alarm clock beginning to go off, and he could faintly feel the early morning rays of sunlight peeping out from underneath the door...

It was tomorrow.

Tomorrow was another chance.

Tomorrow was another day.

Author's Note:

Adaptations and novelizations of the FNAF stories are kinda ignored and aren't giving as much attention as they should be. I decided to down two birds with one stone. Though there may be some liberties based on moving the plot forward, I'll try to be as true to the canon as I can be, based on what we know. Though that's a bit of a problem cuz what we DO know about the story is so open for debate. In any case, enjoy, review, critique, whatever you're comfortable with.