It was only when the sounds of other employees entering did Lizzy finally leave her office to go to the bathroom to wash her face off. When she did come into the bathroom and looked herself in the mirror, she noticed the black stains on her face seemed a bit worse and on closer inspection, she found that her sweat was at fault. She hadn't even realised she had been sweating, but she was busy what with running left, right and down to keep animatronics out of her office, dealing with yellow Care Bear from hell that could make her vision go black and puke, finding out how truly psychotic the animatronics were and having that fucking puppet right in her face again, it was all pretty understandable.

Grumbling to herself, Lizzy turned a tap on and splashed water repeatedly onto her face and scrubbed quickly with her hands to get it all off. Seeing it wash off with ease set one minor worry aside as to whether or not that black stuff was permanent.

Lizzy held onto the edge of the sink and stared down on it after her face was cleared. The way she saw it, she had two options.

Well. Technically three. But as tempting as it would be to burn this unholy place to the ground, sit outside as those animatronics screamed in pain and roasted marshmallows over said fire with a happy smile as she listened to some music, arson was something that the law considered to be illegal. And to do so to what could quite literally be called 'Hell's Kitchen' (Lizzy's swearing replacing Ramsey's of course) would still be illegal, and Lizzy had no desire to end up in jail because of a damn pizzeria.

Back to the serious options though, there were two.

Lizzy could either just continue on with work. Not ask questions and just try to make it long enough until her dad got his hearing repair surgery and then quit, never come back again and find a better job than this. That seemed like the most logical scenario. All things considered.

The second option was that Lizzy could try and figure some things out in her spare time. Maybe said clues would lead to stopping the animatronics from killing her. Mr. Davidson and Phil mentioned a diner a few times. That would be a decent place to start looking up. She couldn't imagine she would find a whole treasure throve of details. She had to be realistic here. But if Lizzy went for this option, she would have to try and be optimistic.

Those two scenarios had actually came to Lizzy's mind briefly on Thursday, but she hadn't really given too much serious thought to it all. The only reason she had asked her boss about previous employees was simply to see if she could get any helpful advice. That and if she went for option B, she would have somewhere decent to look first.

She wouldn't start investigating right away though. She more than deserved a break after this week, and she had dinner at her parents tonight.

"One day at a time, Lizzy girl," Lizzy muttered to herself at her attempt at pep-talk. "You're the top dog here. You look like the underdog, but you're. Top. Dog. Those animatronics? You can make them your bitch. …Somehow."

Inhaling deeply, Lizzy looked back up into the mirror to see her reflection.

And that of the Marionette.

"AH!"

Lizzy turned around, but no figure was behind her. Not even when she looked back in the mirror. But it was still a big enough scare to make her tremble just a little. She shuck her head rapidly and went to splash more water onto her face. Just one week here, and she was already starting to see things that weren't there. Hallucinating.

All Lizzy could do was hope it wouldn't be a recurring thing for the time being. At least not while she was interacting with someone. Last thing she needed was someone questioning her state of mind.

Though given her choice of career it wouldn't have exactly have been unfound. All things considered.

After popping some more gum in her mouth, she left the bathroom and went to the Manager's Office and sat down against the door to wait for him and think over a few words carefully. For her boss. She did have a small idea in mind to convince her boss to give her contact details of past employees. If not? Well, at least she would have something planed in the events that if she did die, it would not just be swept away silently.

"Lizzy?" Lizzy looked up to see a mildly surprised and tired looking Mr. Davidson just about two feet away from her, holding his leather briefcase. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home?" He frowned. "You... Have you changed your mind and quit?"

"Tempting, but no," Lizzy replied dryly as she stood up. "What I wanted to ask you was for those contact details of past night guards. Preferably the ones who stayed more than one week, if any."

"Can this wait until later, please," he groaned, moving past Lizzy to open his door. "I'm not exactly in the mood to have this type of talk since Rachel called last night."

"Rachel?"

"Ex-wife," he muttered as walked into his office. "She cheated on me a few years ago with a friend and ran off with the bas-… The man," he quickly corrected himself to some of Lizzy's amusement. "Apparently their marriage ended last year, and I'm suddenly all she thinks about these days. She sometimes calls me in the middle of the night. Sometimes drunk."

"Oh. Erm… I'm… I'm sorry to hear about that," Lizzy said awkwardly as Mr. Davidson set his briefcase down. "But I really could use some advice. Maybe see if I can find a way to keep myself going throughout my stay here." Lizzy paused before adding, "Unless you want my death investigated." Mr. Davidson looked at her with a somewhat wary look.

"What do you mean? You know the policy here for… death."

"Well, for starts," Lizzy began. "My parents know I work here. I haven't told them what's been going on at night though, before you start demanding but if I were to 'disappear', I'm fairly certain they would press for an investigation here. And even if you got rid of the evidence, I've thought about it a lot and I found a loophole in my contract."

The Manager looked alarmed at those words.

"Loophole? What-?"

"If I speak about anything that happens at night, I lose my job and get blacklisted," Lizzy cut him off. "However if I'm already dead those things can't exactly apply to me, can they? And I don't think it could be too hard to arrange, saaaaay…" Lizzy gave a low whistle as he eyes briefly glanced to the ceiling. "A letter, and some evidence to be sent to someone if I were to die or 'go missing'. I can think of a lot of people who are not bound by my contract. Such as my parents!" Lizzy gave a tiny smile. "So, what numbers do you got?"

Mr. Davidson stared at Lizzy for a moment, conflicted emotions going through him. Lizzy waited patiently, and tried to see if she could make out a definite emotion on Mr. Davidson's face. All she could tell was that there were no overly strong negative feelings. Maybe worry and concern.

"… You're cleverer than I first thought," he said grudgingly after a moment or two. "Can you come by later to pick them up?"

"As long as it's before half six. Have to go have dinner with my parents."

"Half five should do it then. If I'm not here, I'll have Phil hand them to you. Anything else you need to know?"

"… Is this place haunted?" Lizzy bluntly asked. "It's just that there was this yellow Freddy suit last night but it vanished."

"Golden Freddy…?" The Manager lost some colour in his face as he just barely said the name in an audible form. That was enough to get the idea across that the yellow Freddy suit, or 'Golden Freddy' as Mr. Davidson said, was perhaps somehow the worst of everything else here. And given the effects he had on her, Lizzy didn't think it was really arguable.

"Is there something wrong about it? What exactly is it?"

"I… It was… It was an old suit used in the old location. Diner too I think. He was used on special occasions. Mainly Easter and some birthday parties, sometimes other events as well. There was an… An incident and…"

Ring-ring…

Mr. Davidson seemed almost too pleased when the phone rang and snatched it up.

"Hello?" He listened for a moment before looking to Lizzy. "I have to take this."

There wasn't much point trying to argue now, so Lizzy opted to just nod and left the office without another word. Phil would probably answer better when she came around again later. But for now, sleep awaited her.

Lizzy's eyes shot open. She sat up straight. What was this place? Where the hell was she?

She was sitting in a boot of some diner (a bit bigger than most diners by the look of it). Seated by the window. No lights were on, and it was dark outside. From some of the decorations, it seemed to be for kids. Or at the very least, families. Probably the latter.

Looking outside the window, Lizzy could see a few cars. One of them was parked with the driver's door right outside the entrance to this place, the door itself still open. She could hear music playing. It sounded like… Elvis Presley?

Yes, definitely Elvis. Her mother liked playing Elvis often, and Lizzy couldn't deny she was fond of several of his songs. If she was correct, the song playing was 'Suspicious Minds'. She was pretty confident in that answer.

It didn't explain where she was though.

Lizzy left her seat and went to the counter to see if she could spot anything to help figure out where she was as well as how she got there

Spotting a menu and snatched it up and read the top of it.

'Fredbear's Family Diner!'

Just above it was a grinning Freddy, giving a thumbs up as he stood in front of a slice of pizza.

Diner… Didn't Fazbear's use to be a diner? That did come up in conversation at work at least a couple times.

But why was she here?

Lizzy dropped the menu on the counter and walked a little further down, trying to see what else could be seen. She stopped when she saw a newspaper resting on the counter and quickly grabbed it and checked the date.

July 1st, 1977.

"1977? Now this is just messing with me," Lizzy muttered before she went on to read the headline of the paper. It was about a small bus incident out of the town (which was supposedly called Belle Reve) that resulted in some injury of the passengers, and the death of one. Having not seen anything relating to her predicament, she flipped through the pages, skimming lines until something caught her eyes.

'Beloved Family Diner to Close by Summer's End'

'A sad time for the families of Belle Reve who often dined at Fazbear's Family Diner. With business not as strong as it had been in the last ten years, and the bank knocking on doors and windows, Theodore Sweeney (Founder and owner of Fazbear's Family Diner) may soon have to close his doors forever.

'It is not fully known how this came to happen. Though rumours of his daughter (then waitress at the diner) Hilary's transgressions with a visiting student from the not-too-faraway military school and the result may have brought questions to mind on how much of a family diner it was supposed to be to a least some customers.

'Though there may be more hidden behind closed doors as approximately six weeks ago, Theodore Sweeney himself was seen staggering onto the stage of the diner's animatronics that were performing at the time, smelling of cheap and strong alcohol as noted by one customer, and then proceeded to urinate on them as shocked families watched and took their children away while the owner's son, Jack Sweeney, had to remove him from stage with the help of a member of staff. One could only question what other stories may be hidden by the Sweeney family.

'Mr. Sweeney himself has not been available for commentary since around that time (almost seeming to drop off the face of the earth), but his son was available for questioning. When asked about the future of the business he responded with the statement;

'"While I would rather not say anything about the exact future of the diner at this time, realistically things are looking grim. Chances are that we likely facing closure, and all we can do now is just wade through this mess and try to make a good future for ourselves. Having grown up with the diner's animatronic band and its own pirate captain and giant Jack-in-the-box, I will be sad to leave them here when the end finally comes. I can only hope that whoever ends up buying this business will appreciate the entire gang, or the 'joy of creation' as my father would say."'

"What does joy of creation even mean?" Lizzy asked as she put the paper down on the counter. Just as the sound of running water could be heard. Coming from the kitchen. She wasn't sure whether it would be good or not to do so, especially since she didn't have anything to defend herself with. But she strangely found her legs walking behind the counter regardless to go through the kitchen door.

The floor was wet with water. Some suds floating about. The culprit being a tap left on over an overfilling sink with some plates in it. Lizzy had stared at it for a moment. Had the tap always been running since she found herself here? It had to have been. How else would all this water on the floor be explained?

That still made Lizzy wonder why she hadn't heard the water at first, but deemed it too minor to wonder about.

Lizzy reached out and shut the tap off, and after pulling her hand away she noticed something odd. There was some traces of red in the water on the floor by the sink. Lizzy grew concerned and turned around to leave.

Thump.

It had been soft, but Lizzy heard a faint thump outside in the diner. Like a person falling. Quickly going back out, Lizzy was met with no one. Looking over the counter, there was no one still.

Although the small puddles of blood on the floor were worth questioning. As was the bullet or two on the ground. Also blood stained.

"What happened here-?"

THWACK!

Lizzy fell on her side as something heavy hit the back of her head. Frying pan? Pot? She didn't know. But as she pushed herself up, Lizzy was soon met with another shock.

BANG!

Painfully gasping and clutching at her now bleeding throat, Lizzy wanted to yell out but the blood was choking her, causing her to cough it up every few seconds. The bullet that had gone through the back of her neck and through her throat was on the ground now. Shinning in red.

Lizzy felt a grip on her ankles and was slowly tugged down the floor against her will as she tried to grasp onto something with her free hand.

She heard inconsistent mutterings behind her. Drunk ones. The smell of alcohol was so high it was enough to make Lizzy sick.

"Mi… My business… Only mine…"

The annoying creak of a door sounded out painfully slow, and next thing Lizzy knew she was being dragged down wooden stairs. Bumping down rather painfully into a cold basement until her face met an even colder floor to be dragged against.

The smell here was even more horrible. It was like that smell she had caught when she had first seen Golden Freddy. But much worse.

There was some light, but not enough to make things out fully from her position. Eventually, the dragging stopped. But the attacker was hardly finished as he had kicked Lizzy's side rather harshly until she was on her back.

Wincing briefly at the light shining directly in her eyes, she tried to get a good look at her attacker. But all she could see was that it was male. A faint moaning could be heard elsewhere. The man grumbled and staggered to the right. Lizzy painfully looked to her right. There was a wooden table there, and on top of it were the suits of Freddy, Chica and Bonnie. The Freddy suit had looked take apart. Ready to put something, or someone, inside it. The other two…

… There was blood seeping out of those suits. Mainly from the joints. In the Bonnie suit an eye hung loosely out of one socket, while Lizzy could have sworn she saw some blonde-brown sticking out from under the head. The groaning seemed to come from the Bonnie suit as the man had grabbed the shoulders of it, and shoved it roughly against the wall. A sickening sound came from that movement. A sort of squelching sound, and a sound which Lizzy thought was of bones already broken.

"Stupid waiter…" the man muttered. "Stupid… Crappy, waiter… Now…"

Lizzy, still grasping at her throat to stop the bleeding while also trying not to choke on the blood, used her other hand to try and push herself away from the man as he began to approach her again. But he caught her by her waist with ease and dragged her up and towards the table.

"Into the bear suit you go, you bastard…" Her ability to stay calm gone, Lizzy broke into a small cry. She knew where this was heading. And she wanted none of it.

Lizzy tried to get away. Tried kicking, punching, yelling weakly and even biting. But none of it phased him. At most it just delayed the inevitable.

"Stop struggling, and get in the damn suit!"

"No…" Lizzy choked out, blood dribbling down her chin, a tear or two leaking from her eyes. "No… No, no, no…"

It had been sudden, but the silence that had been in the basement was broken when the Chica suit broke into a loud screech. Not just the normal screech she had often heard from the animatronics. Simultaneously, there was a woman screaming as well. Screaming in horrible pain and agony.

"AAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"Stupid bitch!"

Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep…

Lizzy shot up in bed. Her hand went instantly for her throat but she found no blood there. Good.

That… That was just…

Fucked up was a tad bit of an understatement.

Lizzy noticed how fast her heart was beating, and she felt momentarily light headed. She took a few moments to try and calm herself down. It was just a nightmare. A nightmare and nothing more…

… Maybe she should write down what she could remember. Just in case.

Looking at the time, Lizzy finally turned off that damn alarm and quickly got up. Quarter to five and she planned to collect those details in forty-five minutes. May as well have a shower first to save some time when she came back here before heading to her parents.

But first, where was that notebook of hers?