I suppose this is the part where I should go back and talk about my kids.

They were great. Best part of my life. They were so small when they were born, tiny, fragile things. Bit bigger than most thing's I'd played with, but even less able to defend themselves. I remember the first time I held Thomas. My wife put him in my arms, and I imagined what it might have been like if I just...let go, dropped him. He was so breakable that simply not holding him would have been enough. I hadn't killed Mary at that point, no human blood on my hands, and at the time I'd considered making him my first. It would have been easy to make it look like an accidental death, and no one would have been the wiser.

Something changed as he grew. I couldn't tell you when it happened, or even if there was a definitive line...but there came a point where I didn't want to kill the boy. A point where seeing him get hurt was upsetting rather than entertaining. I cared about him, went out of my way to make sure he was safe and happy. He was an adventurous kid, couldn't tell you how many times I had to protect him from hismself.

A few years after he was born, I got Percy. This time, I braced myself for the connection to form, but no amount of bracing could prepare me. He was even smaller than Thomas, and I found love for him all the sooner. Now I had two of them, two kids who burrowed themselves into my chest and refused to leave. They were my heartbeat, my everything. They were the only children after Mary that weren't in danger when they were alone with me.

I protected them them from everything, monitored their every movement, spoiled them with toys and games while chasing away potential threats.

Unfortunately, the biggest threat turned out to be Thomas himself. I realized, as they grew older, Thomas liked to pick on his younger brother. He liked to scare him, liked to push him around. He thought it was funny when he made him cry. I remember coming home one day to find Thomas had cut off the head of Percy's Foxy plush, and was wearing it like a mask while jumping out at him. It's no wonder the poor boy didn't like the animatronics anymore after that.

My first thought was that Thomas was developing traits I've found in myself. He liked to hurt small things. Percy didn't have that, he was a gentle soul, but Thomas...well. I couldn't stand by and do nothing, so I tried to fix the problem by giving Thomas something else to hurt. A hamster. I didn't directly say what it was for. If it'd been me in his place, knowing that the hamster was given with the intent for me to kill it, I would have assumed it was some sort of trap and I wouldn't have touched the thing.

I figured that would be enough, just having the easier option available...but it wasn't. No matter how much attention I tried to draw to his new pet, Thomas continued to terrorize Percy. I talked to him about that, told him what he was doing wasn't acceptable.

He just stopped doing it in front of me.

Things continued in this fashion for a while. Percy developed nightmares, avoided me if I was wearing either of the springlock suits, spent more and more time hiding away under the tables and in the corners. Mary and her group tried to help. She told me they regularly followed him home and tried to comfort him through his stuffed animals. It's funny, for a while his toys held children who hated me, and those children were doing their best to protect something I dearly cared about. They could only do so much, but they were trying.

I'm grateful to them for that, if nothing else.

Mary, Bonnie, Chika, Freddy...

I couldn't spend as much time as I would have liked with Percy at his party. It was his birthday, and I had to work. He'd specifically asked for it to be held at Freddy's, wanting to be close to me despite his fear of the place. It was touching, and I obliged.

During the party...one of those opportunities presented themselves.

A little girl. Lilly. She was going to go into Foxy, and thus complete my collection. I was focused on getting her into the back room, and Mary was focused on stopping me.

In that moment, neither of us were paying attention. Anthony, who was the other guard on duty, was dealing with an irate customer. Thomas was with a group of other kids, and together, they turned on Percy.

There is a very big difference between a scream of fright and a scream of pain. Fear is very much a sign of distress, but it's typically quieter, lower. When something hurts, the voice pitches, gets louder, desperate, shrill. I know the difference between the two, I've heard them often enough. Thomas and his friends, obviously, did not.

Up on stage, both of the springlock animatonics were active. Empty, no one inside them. Thomas pushed his brother into Freddy's mouth. Reminder here that the suits had already been deemed unsafe, we were only using them because...this is Fazbear's entertainment, the rules don't apply. Any protest Percy might have had was lost in the background noise of the pizzarea...until that jump in pitch. I heard his cries sharpen with agony, I looked up...and there he was. Thomas was laughing as the bear's gears ground against each other, something in its mouth keeping it from closing. The pressure built, unable to close, so the cogs turned harder, and harder, until even if Thomas had tried to pull the boy out, he couldn't have.

The Marionette was by my side. She would have tried to do something, but neither of us were close enough when we noticed what was happening. Not enough time to so much as say a word. I saw him struggle, writhing as his skull bowed from the pressure. Just as I registered what I was seeing, there was a pop. A crunch. The bone shattered, and everything was quiet.

It was like having my insides ripped out.

Thomas tried to get him out first. The bear's mouth was locked shut, unyielding, some fault in the system. I was there a moment later, I shoved Thomas out of the way, and I stuffed my hand in there, took apart the joint through all the blood. The jaw came off, and I pulled Percy into my arms, and...his skull was crushed. I don't need to describe the damage any further than that, do I?

Somehow, the boy was still alive, but that was less of a blessing and more of a false hope. We got him to the hospital, and they told us he was in a coma, and the chances of him waking up were very, very slim.

For a long time after the accident, things stayed quiet. It feels like there should have been noise, something happening, but nothing was. It was calm. The only noise in the room I heard was the beeping of the machines that kept my son's body from giving out all together. That...and Thomas, his voice hushed, throat cracked with tears. He begged Percy to wake up again, apologized for everything he'd ever done to him.

I didn't even go all the way into the room. I stayed in the back, at the doorway, I watched Thomas crying over the body. Percy wasn't dead, but he was close enough. The following days were a blur. The pizzarea shut down, for the dozenth time. Thomas fixed up the Foxy plush and we left him flowers, as if this could help somehow. I...

I have never, ever, been so angry with anyone in my life. He hurt my child. He hurt my boy. He hurt Percy. He hurt him so badly that he was never going to move again. Worse still, when he pushed Percy up into Freddy's mouth, he killed both of my children.

He did. A week after the incident, I dragged him down to the empty restaurant. I let him go, told him to run, and then I hunted him down. It took a while to corner him, but I knew the place better than he ever did. I got him trapped in the safe room. It was not fast by any means, I took my time. I used fire.

When it was over, I left him with Foxy. Then I was alone.

He wasn't, though. He was with Mary and her friends. Mary wasn't happy with him, either. She took him in, but she never forgave him for what he did.

The people have come back. I suspected they would, but what I didn't suspect was that they'd return with a set of blueprints. As soon as they walked through the door, they made a beeline for the safe room. Now, this is going to be interesting. They're going to take whatever they find for their little Fright attraction...and what they're going to find is my body, stuck in the suit. I stand back and watch them.

Mary appears next to me as the door opens. A bundle of nervous energy as they surround and fawn over their discovery. The first thing they do is try to turn it on, but alas, there is no energy left in the battery.

I watch her out of the corner of my eye, smiling. Miss Mary is so, so angry.

"What are we going to do now?" I ask.

"...we're going to break this toy of theirs the first chance we get."

"Mmm."

They load my body onto a cart to wheel me out. As they work, I feel her. Her essence moves in to encircle mine as she ties herself to the springlock suit.

And off we go.