The first thing I noticed when I got out of the suit was how badly I smelled. I'm not exaggerating when I say that the entire building probably smelled like used kitty litter for the entire time I was there. I asked if my rented room had been given to someone else by now, and Miles (who turned out to be the police chief like I thought he was) told me that it had been part of the investigation to find me after I went missing, so no one had gone into the room except the police. Matt, the one who cut me out of the suit, wanted me to tell him everything about how I had been trapped, but I told him it would have to wait until after I had had a well deserved shower.

When I got to the house where I was staying at, my room was strangely untouched. The police investigation must have mostly taken place at Freddy's, I guess. I peeled off my week-old clothes and jumped in the shower, feeling the water on my skin (as well as the bandages around my chest from where the endoskeleton had been pulled out). It was one of the best feelings I have ever felt, being finally clean after having been stuck in a sweaty costume for nine days. After getting out of the shower, I felt like a whole new person. For the first time since I was trapped in that cloth prison, I finally felt free.

As I began putting on fresh clothes, however, the feeling quickly began to fade. In the back of my mind, I knew it wasn't true. I wasn't done yet. Mike was still in there, and I had promised myself that I would get him returned to the outside world. "You could always just leave him behind", said a voice from somewhere in the room, "after all, he's already dead. What good would getting him out now do?" I looked around the room frantically for the source of the voice, but could find nothing. Finally, I stopped. "I made a promise." I said simply, then popped a pill into my mouth and swallowed.

The walk back to the police station was fairly uneventful. The snow had mostly stopped falling, and was now merely a light sprinkle now and then. The blizzard had left everything in sight covered in a thick layer of the stuff, and it was clear that the cars in the neighborhood wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. The snow crunched underfoot as I walked up the door to the police station and stepped inside.

When I entered, I was greeted by Matt sitting in a chair in the main lobby, anxiously writing things down in a small notebook. He perked up when I entered, and motioned for me to sit down in a chair opposite to him.

"So," he said, replacing the smaller notebook with a much larger one, "where have you been all this time? Why were you stuck in a rabbit costume when the police found you? I want to know everything."

"Well," I began, "I was working as a security guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, and the animatronics were set to a free-roaming mode every night."

Matt began furiously writing down what I said before asking me to continue.

I told him all about what had happened in the past nine days: how the animatronics had stuffed me into the suit, how I had spent my time with Mike playing Connect-Four in the basement, and how I had escaped by pretending to be broken so that the staff would shut down the suit. He listened intently during the whole thing, jotting down everything I said in his notebook. When I got to the part about my escape, however, he leaned in closely and asked the one question I was hoping he wouldn't ask.

"So, if you escaped, then where is Mike now?"

And there it was, the most difficult part of my story to tell. I had been dreading that question for the entire interview. I paused for a moment before finally deciding to tell him the truth.

"Mike is... dead. During my escape, the animatronics must have recognized him as a duplicate, and the other Freddy that was active that night came up to him and... well... ripped his head off."

He stared at me, mouth wide open, before finally sputtering out a response.

"They... they ripped his head off?"

"Yes. They did."

He stared at me some more, then practically yelled out, "that's insane! The robots actually killed someone, with a security guard watching on the cameras, and nobody did anything about it?! How could this be allowed to happen? We should be shutting down the whole restaurant for this!"

He looked at me wild-eyed, then slowly calmed down enough to whisper,

"I'm getting Miles on this. We're going to bring this whole company down."