A/N: Well, here's chapter 2! As I stated in the first chapter, this is all that I have written of this story so far. I may or may not decide to continue this particular fanfic, but either way I will definitely write some more FNAF things! Please enjoy!

Chapter 2

Marvin Jones had appeared to be a perfectly normal boy growing up. He was a nice young man who was always willing to help others and had never shown so much as an ounce of violent tendencies.

Because of this, his friends and family were completely stunned when he was arrested for the murder of five young children. Frankly, his relatives didn't believe the news until they were presented with the cold, hard facts:

Due to increasing pressures of a low-paying job trying to support a two-year-old child and wife who was just frail enough to get sick rather often, one day something in Marvin's mind simply…snapped. Donning a promotional costume of Freddy Fazbear, the mascot of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, he lured five young children around the back of the establishment and…well, no one ever quite figured out what exactly happened to the children, but from a confession by Marvin himself, the police learned that they were definitely deceased.

Marvin was convicted of his crime and put in jail. However, a psychiatric evaluation led to a slight change of placement: in a hopeful attempt to reform his behavior, Marvin was moved to Falling Leaves Psychiatric Hospital, a 24-hour care facility. This is where he remained from the time his daughter was just over three years old through the present day, and though he appeared to understand the severity of what he had done after a few long, arduous years of therapy, he had no planned release from the hospital.

Cara, the two-year-old child who couldn't understand why her father was suddenly missing from her life, eventually blossomed into a twenty-five year old woman trying to make her own start. When she first learned about the horrible crime her father had committed, she was terrified; she refused to talk about him for about five months, and it was even longer before she went to see him again. However, she slowly came to terms with the fact that her father himself understood the severity of what he did, and was able to forgive him enough that she could be alone with him for a short period of time.

Thus, every Thursday she stopped by Falling Leaves and paid him a visit for an hour.

"How are you, Cara?" the girl's father asked, smiling and patting the empty spot on the bed. Cara sat down, her mouth closed and brow furrowed. Eventually, she took a deep breath and stared at her lap.

"I was alright until this afternoon…," she trailed off quietly. Her father frowned, concerned, but before he could ask what was wrong Cara suddenly looked at him and grasped both of his hands in-between her own.

"Dad… I know we're not really supposed to talk about this, but…I have to ask you something."

Marvin closed his eyes and nodded, already aware of the topic his daughter was about to bring up.

"A few years ago, when you were still…before you got better, you said something about… the Pizzeria." Cara paused, gauging her father's reaction; she was always wary when this topic was brought up, faintly wondering in the back of her mind if this discussion would trigger a relapse. However, her father seemed calm and willing to listen, so she continued.

"You said something about the children. Something like…they were still there?"

Marvin looked up at her and nodded, his face a mask of calm detachment. He smiled.

"Oh, yes. They're still there, definitely," he responded. He gazed blankly at the wall behind Cara's head. "They each had a favorite character, you know. Cindy liked Chica because she was the only girl; she told me before it happened. And then Alan adored Bonnie, and Luke always wondered what was behind that Pirate Cove curtain…and then Ben, haha! He loved Freddy Fazbear!... Yeah, those kids are still hanging around, I'm sure. Probably having a permanent party or something…"

Marvin trailed off, a wistful smile on his face. Cara waited a moment for him to continue, but when her dad failed to do so she realized that he needed more prompting.

"But, dad, what exactly do you mean the kids are hanging around?" Cara asked. Her father slowly turned and locked gazes with her, his head tilted slightly to the right.

"Their souls are still there, even if their bodies have decayed away," he responded simply. Cara's mouth opened in a slightly confused manner, but her father merely stared at her. For the first time in quite a few years, she was beginning to feel uncomfortable being alone with him. She scooted a little further away on the bed and cleared her throat.

"Um, you said…their souls?" she clarified, and Marvin nodded again. His mouth twitched into a brief frown, then back into an increasingly-disturbed smile.

"He helped with that part."

"…He?" Cara frowned. Her father shifted his gaze behind her and slowly raised a pointed finger over her shoulder. Cautiously, her heart beating fast, Cara turned to see what her father was pointing at…if he was really seeing anything at all. He could be having some sort of relapse (it had happened once before, and it could certainly happen again), which meant that Cara needed to get out of the room immediately and find some help.

However, as Cara's gaze shifted to an unimposing corner of the white-walled room, she began to wonder if she wasn't just as crazy as her father.

Sitting on the floor was a long-limbed…thing. Cara wasn't quite sure what it was; the thing appeared to be some sort of doll, with a black midsection, and black and white-striped arms and legs. It was wearing some sort of darkly comical mask with a gaping mouth, red-painted cheeks, and purple tear-streaks painted on from the eyes down to the top lip. Cara had no idea what this thing was, nor how it had gotten in the room; she knew that it hadn't been there when she'd arrived.

"He helped the children after I killed them." Marvin suddenly spoke, startling Cara both with his indifferent tone and how easily he had spoken his horrendous crime aloud. The girl turned back to her father, but she swore that the dark eye-sockets of the long-limbed doll were staring into her back. When she was facing him, Marvin continued, still staring at the thing in the corner.

"He knew that what I'd done was wrong; the children couldn't rest in peace, so he thought that giving them new bodies to call 'home' would help them more than letting them wander aimlessly around for the rest of their afterlives. So, he took something important to each of the children and hid them where no one would think to look. He guided the souls of the children to their new bodies, and that's where they are to this day. I hope they're happier now…"

"D-dad…," Cara trailed off, unsure of how to respond. Obviously, her father was falling fast into another one of his delusions, and she needed to get him some help before it was too late. Standing up, she started to inch towards the door; her father remained on the bed, still staring into the corner.

"…Oh." Suddenly, the man on the bed's face contorted into a pained expression of grief. "Wait…I didn't realize…No…They're not happy…They…they think that other people are me and have been trying to…to avenge themselves by…Oh God, oh God…" He began to rock back and forth, clutching his head in his hands. Cara was reaching for the door by this point, but she paused when she saw this.

"Dad…," she repeated, her hand resting loosely on the doorknob. She wanted more than anything to comfort him, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Her father began to sob loudly.

"C-Cara…help them," he implored, though he still covered his face. "Please…find the music box, and he can help you…Please…Help them…Please…Help…"

"Who can help me?!" Cara questioned, knowing that her father was at his breaking point. Even though he was losing it, he seemed very adamant about this. Ever-so-slowly, Marvin lowered one hand and pointed towards the corner once again.

"He can…But…don't forget to wind the box, o-or else…"

Keeping a death grip on the doorknob, Cara turned towards the corner just in time to see the terrifying mask lunging straight for her face. Screaming, she wrenched open the door and ran into the hallway, the sounds of her father's sobbing following her even as she slammed the door behind her. A nearby nurse immediately rushed over, but all Cara could do was point towards the room and rush outside, wanting to get away from the hospital as fast as she could.

Even as she managed to calm the shaking in her hands enough for her to unlock the car and begin the short drive home, she could swear that the thing was watching her every move.

It was just watching…and waiting.

The next day, Cara and Mike had arranged to meet for coffee at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Cara had called her friend immediately after his shift ended at 6 am, and he sounded extremely relieved to hear her voice; he wanted to meet right then and there, but Cara insisted that he get some sleep beforehand. Soon, morning turned to afternoon and they two friends were sitting in the local coffee shop, both staring down into their cups of dark, caffeinated liquid.

"So, um…," Mike eventually said after an uncomfortably long silence. Cara glanced up at him and noticed that his eyes were bloodshot, as if he'd failed to get any sleep despite her insistence. "That job last night was…interesting."

"Oh?" Cara ran a finger over the lip of her cup. Though her eyes weren't as bloodshot as Mike's, there were obvious bags underneath them."The visit with my dad was…interesting, too. But you can go first."

"Y-yeah…So, um…God, where the hell do I start…?" Mike stared up at the ceiling, as if imploring it to give him an answer. After a few seconds, he looked directly at Cara for the first time since they had entered the coffee shop. "First of all, I'm not exactly sure what you wanted me to find when I looked up those old newspaper articles…but the main thing I got was that there were two major incidents in '87 that actually got the place closed down for a few years. First…there were lots of articles about this guy who went crazy and murdered five kids; they apparently never found the bodies. Thank God the guy confessed and was arrested, but…damn."

Cara tore her gaze away and glanced at the table. "Yeah, I heard it was pretty horrible."

"It was one of the daytime security guards that did it; the guy was only about five or six years older than me at the time…" Mike shivered, took a sip of his coffee, and continued. "The other thing I found out was that, even though the murder of those kids was a huge deal, it wasn't quite enough to close the place down. For some reason, some parents still thought it would be a great idea to have their kids' birthday parties at the Pizzeria…

"Anyway, one day an animatronic malfunctioned and bit someone. No one reported any exact details, but the guy on the phone…er, I heard something about how amazing it was that the human body doesn't need a frontal lobe to survive, so…I guess it was pretty bad. And that's what ultimately shut the place down, combined with that crazy guy's killing spree."

Cara nodded; she had known about all of this, of course. She had first-hand information on the murder incident, and had kept herself well-informed of other events at the Pizzeria (once she had been old enough to learn the truth about her father). She was pleased that Mike had done his research; however, he still seemed extremely tense.

"Is there…anything else you wanted to tell me?" she questioned. Mike let out a short, barking laugh.

"Oh, there's a lot…but I'll make a long story short: that place is creepy as hell. They don't turn off the animatronics at night because, apparently, their 'servos will lock up'…which normally wouldn't be a problem. Except…hell, Cara…they moved!"

He was gazing at her, wide-eyed, terror etched across his face. Cara's brow furrowed.

"Well…if they're left on, it's kind of expected that they would move at some point, right?"

Mike shook his head vehemently.

"They weren't just moving around signing songs like they usually do, Cara. They were coming for me." Cara blinked in surprise, and Mike continued. "I'm serious. It was fine for the first hour or two, although I got this weird phone call from this guy who I assume is my supervisor; he told me that they sometimes walk around. I thought 'okay, whatever, as long as they stay on the stage, it's all good.'

"But they didn't! I'd look at the hallway camera, and then when I looked back at the stage, they were fuckin' staring right at me! And then, when I switched to another camera and then back again, one of them moved. And then, THEN…they were at. My. Doors. They were at my damn doors, but I couldn't keep them shut because I would drain the power and then…God, I don't even want to think about that.

"It was terrifying. Terrifying. But do you know the worst part?"

With this, Mike finally paused. What he was saying sounded absolutely crazy…but Cara could tell from the look on his face that he was being completely serious. She shook her head, wondering what else he had to say.

"When I told my boss the next day, he totally brushed me off! I know he knew what was going to happen, and he didn't even fucking warn me! Asshole…"

Cara was unsure of what she was supposed to say. Animatronics that were intentionally out to get the night security guard? It didn't sound like a very convincing story. But then again…What had her father said yesterday amidst his ramblings? The children are "still around," but they're "not happy" and have been trying to "avenge themselves." Of course, this was probably just the ravings of a seriously disturbed man haunted by his past sins.

Still…Even though she knew deep in her gut that this was a horrible idea, she felt that she needed to do something about this. It would surely bring up some bad feelings, but maybe it would also help to heal some old wounds that had been re-opened last night. Maybe she could also find out what the hell that thing in her father's room was…if it was even real in the first place.

"I probably sound totally insane," Mike said softly, running a slightly shaking hand through his hair and sitting back against his chair. "Honestly, I might've just been so tired that my eyes were playing tricks on me. That's probably all that it was. Well, either way…I'm going back for another shift tonight."

"Really?" Cara asked, instantly perking up. This was the perfect opportunity. "Mike, this is a very strange question, but…do you think I could come with you? To your shift tonight?"

The boy gazed at her, his expression confused.

"Um…I mean, I don't see why not…but why would you want to? Especially after what I just told you? Obviously, this place severely messes with your brain…"

"I've always wanted to check out the Pizzeria," she responded; not an entirely untrue statement. "Besides…" She gave him a wry smile. "If you're already going crazy after one night on your own, don't you think having another person with you would help?"

"Yeah, probably!" Mike laughed. "I'll give my boss a call and ask if it's alright for you to come with me, okay? Hell, maybe he'll even give you a job, too!"

"Not sure if I'd want one, but thanks for the offer." Cara stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. The nerves were already beginning to twist her stomach into knots; she couldn't even bring herself to finish her coffee. Right now, she needed to go home and mentally prepare for the tough night ahead.

"I'll see you at the Pizzeria at midnight, then?" she said, pushing in her chair.

"Eleven forty-five; I like to make a good impression and go a little early."

"Right; eleven forty-five. See you then!"

"Yup!"

With that, Cara left the coffee shop and Mike was alone at the table. His smile instantly slipped; he brought the coffee cup up to his lips, but his hand had once again begun to tremble. Placing the cup back on the table, he breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. He sincerely hoped that last night's events had just been created out of tired delirium, but a nagging feeling in the back of his mind led him to doubt that this was the case.

Anyway, at least he would have someone to be with; maybe Cara would be able to keep him sane.

After all, it was only his second night at Freddy's.