Charlie didn't recognize anything- they were on the outskirts of town, surrounded by empty fields.
"Where are we going?" She asked Fritz yet again. No response. Okay. I'm on a bus with a guy I barely know, at 1 am, on the outskirts of town. He won't tell me where we're going. Did I transfer Chief Clay's number to my new phone? She analyzed the situation repeatedly in her head. To make matters worse, she was boxed in- Fritz was sitting on the aisle seat. They were the only remaining passengers, which made her even more wary of her safety. The bus came to an abrupt stop and she jolted forward, causing her head and neck to smart.
"End of the line." The gray-haired bus driver declared. Fritz stood up, but Charlie didn't move.
"Charlotte? Come on."
She stared out the window. There weren't any lights anywhere, although she could faintly see the outlines of houses in the distance. Nope. She turned to Fritz and just stared at him. You can't be serious.
"End of the line." The bus driver raised his voice.
"Come on, then. End of the line." Fritz extended his hand.
"Where are we?" She demanded.
"Somewhere safe. Come on."
She stood up slowly and reached into her pocket, feeling for her keys. If she held them in the right way she could use them as a makeshift weapon. The bus sped away the second the duo stepped off of it, and she gripped the keys tightly.
"This way. Stay close, it's easy to get lost." Fritz gestured for her to follow him onto a small footpath. They walked for what seemed like an eternity, in complete silence. The sound of a babbling stream nearby served as a slight comfort to Charlie, but she was perpetually on edge. She wasn't sure if she was relieved when a house came into view- it was definitely abandoned, with an overgrown lawn, loose shingles, and chipping red siding. As she and Fritz stepped onto the wooden porch, the whole foundation seemed to shake. He dug a keyring out of his pocket, fumbled with several keys, and then applied one to the front door.
Charlie lingered in the doorway after he stepped inside. Okay, I can still run.
"Hold on a minute…" There were several shuffling sounds and then a loud click. She shielded her eyes as a bright light filled the room.
"Hold this." Fritz extended a large, heavy flashlight to her. It was similar to the police flashlight Charlie had had in her car, at Aunt Jen's insistence. She watched as Fritz picked up a matchbook, struck one of the matches, and then lit several candles. The flickering lights revealed a cozy living room- at least, it was once cozy. The overstuffed couch and armchair had stuffing coming out of them in several places, the weathered oak coffee table was cluttered with old newspapers, and an ancient TV sat next to a tall bookshelf overflowing with books.
"Who... who's house is this?"
"Mine." Fritz said breathily.
"You… live here?"
"Yeah. I mean, I did. A long time ago."
"Why are we here?"
"I told you, it's safe here. They've forgotten about this place."
"Who's they? That girl and that man?"
Fritz nodded.
"You should sit down." He gestured to the overstuffed couch. Charlie sunk into the cushions immediately after sitting down, and she had to shift vigorously to get comfortable. Fritz sat in the armchair and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, using the flame of a nearby candle to light one. Charlie watched as he inhaled deeply and then expelled the smoke from his lungs. He relaxed with a sigh, sinking back into the chair. She let go of her keys at last. If his intention was to attack her, he would have already done so. At least, that was what she told herself.
"That man… I feel like I've seen him before. And not just on the night he attacked me." She leaned forward and clasped her hands together, resting her chin on them. Fritz nodded.
"You have. At Fredbear's."
Charlie frowned.
"Was he a host or a waiter?"
"He and your father were business partners."
"My dad didn't have a partner."
Fritz stood up and walked over to the bookshelf. He pulled several books out, glancing at their spines, before selecting a large one.
"I think it was this one…" He held his cigarette between his lips and flipped through several pages. "Ah. Here it is." He plopped down on the couch beside her, causing it to groan and sink further down. Charlie shifted against him- they were shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh due to the ineffective springs within it. She tilted her head as she examined the photo Fritz pointed at. A much younger version of her father, sans glasses, stood next to a brown-haired, grinning man wearing some kind of costume. The grinning man looked familiar beyond having seen him the night of the attack and a few hours ago, but Charlie couldn't put her finger on it.
"I… I guess I do remember someone else constantly being in the office…" She admitted. Fritz turned the page and she gasped. Three of her classmates stared up at her from the album- the other two kids she didn't recognize- along with her and her brother. Her father and the grinning man from the previous photo stood behind the group, each wearing a golden mascot costume. There were two large mascot heads pressed against either man's hip- a rabbit and a bear, respectively.
"F-Fredbear? Spring Bonnie?"
"The animatronics could be worn as a costume or put onstage to perform-"
"I know." Charlie interrupted, "I remember." She tilted her head again- there was someone else in the picture- a tiny boy clutching a Fredbear plush. His cheeks were red and his eyes were glazed despite the smile plastered across his face. The costume closet flashed in Charlie's mind. She and Sammy used to play with him. They'd colored with him on the day Sammy disappeared.
"I… I remember that boy." She pointed to the tearful child.
Fritz tensed- she felt his shoulder rise against hers.
"Y-you remember him?"
"Yeah… Sammy- that's my brother- and I used to play with him. He was always crying because his brother and his friends picked on him. I never forgot that mean boy." She thought of the brown-haired boy stealing Theodore and a pang of anger struck her in the chest. Fritz let out a shuddering breath.
"Fritz?"
"Right. I remember him too. Poor kid." He started to shut the photo album but Charlie put her hand between the shutting cover and the page.
"Wait." She took the album onto her own lap and flipped it back open.
"That's him. That's the brother." She pointed to the brown-haired boy, who was pictured holding a Foxy mask. Another boy with a mullet stood beside him, holding a Bonnie mask.
"You said you remember him, too. Did his brother pick on you, too?"
Fritz let out another shuddering breath. Charlie looked at him quizzically before examining yet another photo- Cassidy, the brown-haired boy, and a little girl with golden hair stood in front of the grinning man and a blonde woman. They were all smiling, and the small boy didn't look tearful for once, although he was still holding the Fredbear plush.
"Wait…" There was a reason the grinning man looked so familiar- his blue eyes mirrored Fritz's along with a similar jawline and nose. "That's… that's.."
"Charlotte-"
"Wow, your brother is kind of a baby, isn't he?" Charlie looked up from her drawing to see several kids surrounding her friend.
"It's hilarious." The brown haired boy smirked. Each child was wearing a mascot mask- the brown-haired boy was Foxy, the boy with the mullet was Bonnie, another boy was Chica, and the last boy in the group was Freddy. "Why don't we help him get a closer look? He will love it!"
Charlie dropped her blue crayon.
"No! Please!" The small boy sobbed.
"Come on guys, let's give the little man a lift. He wants to get up close and personal!" Foxy boy sneered.
"No! I don't want to go!" Charlie watched in horror as Foxy boy and Bonnie boy lifted his brother off the ground and dragged him towards the stage, where Fredbear and Spring Bonnie were performing. They were getting close to the stage- too close.
"Daddy!" Charlie leapt out of her chair and ran to the back office. Her father was shuffling papers while talking to another man. The man from the photo.
"Charlie? What is it?"
"M-Mi-el and his friends are taking Cassidy to the stage!"
The two men exchanged glances and ran out of the office. Charlie followed suit, running as fast as her little legs could carry her.
"Hey guys, I think the little man said he wants to give Fredbear a big kiss! On three. One.. two…."
"Hey! You kids get away from there!" Henry barked. Charlie had never seen her father run so fast.
"THREE!"
What happened next happened in slow motion- the small boy's head was pushed into Fredbear's moving mouth. There was the sound of whirring and clicking animatronic parts, and then a shriek that made Charlie let out one of her own. Blood. There was blood running from Fredbear's mouth and down his golden torso. Several patrons let out screams of their own and shielded their childrens' eyes.
"Call 911! Call 911!" Somebody shouted.
Charlie couldn't look away, nor could the small boy's tormentors.
"I-I- it was an… ac-accident!" Foxy boy stuttered.
"CHARLOTTE!" Her father was suddenly back by her side, covering her eyes. The last thing she saw was the other man, her father's partner, trying to pry Fredbear's bloody jaw apart.
"Charlotte?" Fritz said warily.
"It… it's you." Charlie's breathing was labored.
"Charlotte, I-" Fritz's voice broke. He touched her shoulder and she jumped up off the couch, tears streaming down her face.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
She couldn't be certain, but there appeared to be tears in Fritz's eyes as well.
"It was an accident. I didn't know that-"
"An ACCIDENT?! You knew damn well what would happen!"
"No, I DIDN'T. Charlotte, it haunts me every night. I see it over and over again whenever I close my eyes. I've seen it over and over again for 15 years!"
"I should hope so!"
Fritz looked stung. She shook her head.
"Fritz… that's not your name, is it? Who are you really? Who is he really?"
Fritz buried his face in his hands.
"...I promised you the truth, and, despite what you might be thinking, I'm a man of my word."
Charlie was shaking- her hands were shaking, her knees were threatening to give out. Fritz pulled out another cigarette but hesitated before lighting it.
"My name is Michael. Michael Afton. That man… your father's business partner, is William. William Afton, although he probably goes by something else these days."
Afton. Charlie vaguely recalled that name being spoken by her father in passing. Michael lit his cigarette at last.
"The girl… her name is Elizabeth. She's my sister. Well, she was."
"And that boy was your brother." She said shakily.
"Cassidy." She saw that speaking the name caused Michael pain, but she refused to feel sympathy. "Elizabeth… well, her blood is on your father's hands."
"What?" She choked.
"Your father is far from a saint, Charlie. People shunned my father's name, still do, but they should be shunning "Emily" as well. If you were ever to take a look at his blueprints, you'd see that his.. erm, experiments were pretty messed up."
"Experiments?" Charlie sputtered.
"There's a reason his animatronics are so erratic. It's not just the malfunctioning facial scanners."
"What are you talking about?" Her question came out as a shout. Michael calmly took a long drag off his cigarette.
"My father murdered those five kids. He murdered more as time went on, and your father cleaned up after him. When I say "cleaned up", I mean that he trapped them. Physically and spiritually. How, I'm not exactly sure. All I know is that there were several little bodies hidden in those suits."
Charlie was hyperventilating now, trying not to throw up. She lowered herself onto the floor.
"You're… you're lying."
"Oh?" Michael stood up. "I happen to have something right here." He walked back to the bookshelf and reached the highest shelf. He pulled a large sheet of folded blue paper down and set it in front of her before calmly sitting back down on the couch. Charlie unfolded the paper with shaking hands.
There, in white pencil and ink, was a picture of a sinister-looking device. . . Of . . Read the text on the top right of the blueprint. She examined the diagram with tear-filled eyes.
A: Excavating Arm.
B. Remnant Injector. Notes: Leave trace line amount on interior. Over-usage/Over-exposure negates effect.
C: Arm Base and Balance.
D: Remnant Reservoir. Notes: When heated, no observable motion. Keep in heated tank at sustained temperature. Substance should be malleable, but not more. There is a possibility that overheating might neutralize the effects permanently.
It was all in her father's handwriting. On the bottom right of the blueprint was a small copyright claim: Afton Robotics LTD. That was where she'd heard "Afton" before. Her father had built the animatronics under the guise of that business.
"How do you know all this?" Charlie choked. Michael just chewed on his lower lip. "Tell me!"
"...When I was locked up, my mother wrote me several letters several times a month for years. She was my father's closest confidant, next to your father."
"Why the hell didn't she tell anyone? And… locked up? What the hell are you talking about?"
"I murdered my kid brother. They dubbed me a psychopath, especially when I was held in juvenile hall and started seeing things. They decided that I needed to be drugged up and put away rather than held in jail. As for my mother… do you honestly think she simply could've come forward with all of this? For one, no law enforcement officer would believe a word of it. Secondly, your father and my father were in this together- both threatened her. She had to hide the letters in electric bill envelopes in order to smuggle them to the post office. When I was about 16, the letters stopped coming. I can only assume that they caught on and dealt with her."
Charlie was dizzy again. She stared up at the ineffectual ceiling light and gradually laid down.
"There it is. The whole truth. I told you you wouldn't like it."
The prospect of facing her father ever again made Charlie even sicker. No wonder he was so desperate to get away from Freddy's- each and every one of his secrets were within the walls of each location. She gained her composure long enough to speak.
"But I never saw your father after Fredbear's. How did he continue doing all this if he didn't work there?"
"Oh, but he did. He changed his name, dyed his hair, managed to fly under your father's radar temporarily. Your father would discover him and they'd continue the vicious cycle. My father would murder a couple of kids, your father would clean up after him, get rid of him, and he'd show up again at the next location with a new name and a new look."
"What about Elizabeth?"
"That I'm not one hundred percent clear on. All I know is that one of your father's more… elaborate creations got to her, she died, and then she was somehow fine. At least, fine by certain standards. She's not my sister anymore- she's a sadistic little girl trapped in a teenager's body. It's quite sad, really."
"But why… why me? Why did he attack me? Your father?"
"That I don't know, but I'm fairly certain it was a revenge plot. An eye for an eye, a daughter for a daughter. At least you survived. But he's looking for you. You and me. And if he finds us… well…" Michael put out his cigarette. "This time you won't survive."
It took ages for Charlie to fall asleep. She was lying on a fairly comfortable bed, wrapped in a quilt with Michael inches away from her. She should have been comfortable, besides the fact that she was sharing the bed with a complete stranger. Just pretend he's John. She rolled onto her side and imagined his face buried in her hair, his arm protectively wrapped around her waist. It worked, at least for a little while. A low rumble woke her up minutes later.
Thunder? She glanced at her phone. 3:58 am. There was another low rumble. She grabbed the flashlight on the bedside table and stood up, regretting it immediately. A massive headache had developed. She let out a groan and made her way to the right door. That was something unusual about this bedroom- there was a door on either side of it. The hallway windows weren't rain stained or even snow stained. What she'd heard wasn't thunder. It could have been the house settling on its crumbling foundation. Just as she was about to switch off the flashlight and head back to the bed, she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. It was a gold flash of movement at the end of the hallway.
A grandfather clock struck 4 somewhere in the house. Charlie stared down the hallway for several seconds. She hadn't taken her pills in days- clearly she was seeing things. She sighed deeply and walked back to the bed, slipping back underneath the quilt. Just as she shut her eyes, the rumble sounded again. This time it sounded as though it were right next to her. She sat up with a gasp- something was at the foot of the bed. Michael? He was still next to her, sleeping soundly. She picked up the flashlight with shaking hands and switched it on. There, directly in front of her, was a large gold bear with gleaming red eyes, disheveled fur and several rows of sharp teeth.