That's the time.

Dollface felt her wings spread from her empty back as she glided from the high roof over a block. She needed to get to that booth.

Dollface finally touched down and pulled in the wings, brown feathers falling around her like drifting snow. She brushed them away, uninterested in a miracle, wrestling back into her sweater.

She walked the rest of the way to the booth, hands in her leather pockets, face oozing and rag on the floor somewhere in the dorm, discarded.

Fuck them.

Fuck 'em all.

If they were so great, they'd do it themselves.

Dolface plopped in her rattling quarters and dialed for her uncle.

She felt her heart race, almost as if coming to her senses at his fluid, genderless voice.

He had to deal with Dad in another country.

Boo.

Sebastian was sending her other uncle?

Who was her-

"I think you'll find he's arrived, little Wren."

A dark car pulled up in front of her, as if waiting for Sebastian to cue it's silent advance.

She gulped, recognizing it as Sebastian's end clicked.

Dollface stepped over.

And sat in the passenger seat next to fat Bertrum.

And his dark, dark glasses.

And his eerily overshot jaw.

That the animal comes alive.

Bertrum knew where Dollface wanted to be with just a nod of his head on his thick neck.

Dollface barely glanced at the intense red glow of an exit sign under his sunglasses.

Sunglasses at night.

She watched street lights.

He stopped at a gas station.

Dollface handed him the quarters.

It was the polite thing to do.

She waited, plucking dull brown feathers from her hair. She inspected one in the void light and remembered being carried in her father's arms high above the town of Elmore

Bertrum came back with a cheap holiday assortment in a cane, one that you can only find in the last minute gifts in the back of the alcohol aisle..

Looking for something wild.

Dollface inspected the small sampler bottles in the greasy light.

Vodka and whiskey.

Lots of it in the cane.

An hour of driving soon passed.

Dollface didn't look at Bertrum.

She held the suit head in her lap.

Baggy, baggy clothing on under this would insure the perfect crime and sweet, sweet victory.

And now we lookin' like pimps in a gold Trans-Am, got my water bottles full of whiskey in my handbag.

Dollface stepped out of the car with a grunt.

She looked up at the sign.

So this is where it all had started.

All this damn misery.

Where some kid was carelessly tossed into the jaws of a beast by useless teens and a brother arrived five minutes too late in the morning's bleeding light.

Well, it's gonna end, right here, right now.

I'll regret it in the mornin' but tonight I don't give a, I don't give a, I don't give a-

She walked along the tall and wide front display windows in her suit head, all other possessions abandoned in the car with Bertrum, feeling like a wild animal trying to get in.

Dollface tapped the glass of what was once known as Fredbear's Family Diner, looking up at the neon sign, flickering in red, "Operation Hours".

She didn't fully register the analogue sign flipped to "Closed".

How many changes had they gone through since the bite earlier in the year?

It felt like forever ago.

But it had been early spring.

Dollface knew this was the first and biggest location in the country, with different showstages and prototypes being run through everyday before each new toy was shipped across the country.

Dollface knew what each prototype in this building was full of.

And she knew one of them was an insulting copy of her.

Actually, there was an entire showstage supposed to look like her friends.

Even down to costumes and personal preferences. Entire showtapes had been recorded from earlier performances in the summer.

And newer, more exciting ones with real voice actresses faking and mocking accents.

"There can only be one." She growled.

Dollface stalked up and down the walls.

There has to be an entrance for a cat like her…

Far from security cameras, Dollface found a window.

How to get up and in?

Trashcans?

She looked at the heap of Animatronic parts with a clown mask and shrugged.

Good a ladder as any.

There's a place downtown where the freaks all come around, it's a hole in the wall, it's a dirty free for all!

Dollface felt her foot hit the pipes of an automatic toilet under her foot.

She nimbly lept to the floor and pulled open the door.

This action, of course, activated the censor on the toilet and made it loudly flush.

Practically flying out of her skin, Dollface waited for the roar to die down to a hiss and tiptoed with her helmet from the bathroom. Dollface tried so hard to forget what it was like that first time, that utter fear, then that sense of total loss.

A year ago, staying overnight at an animatronic pizzeria would've been a dream come true, now she knew what a nightmare it really was.

Dollface stepped from the hall to an arcade room.

And they turn me on.

The Mediocre Melodies gaped at the very end of the lined room, smiling and waving, still as statues.

Two small stages flanked the three-stage, one with a hippo, the other with an elephant.

Something's suspicious.

It's past midnight.

Something is very, very, wrong.

And you can't tell Dollface otherwise.

She could smell them.

The smell of bad breath and menstruation blood with a mix of dead rat.

And the slightest hint of a discarded pacifier.

"William m'boy, ya really were a disgustain' man."

No answer from the bear, the frog, or the pink pig.

Dollface ducked into the next room, never heeding the hissing air.

She just wanted to forget that face from Prissy Missy Custer's trunk.

When they take it off, when they take it off, everybody, take it off.

"The- The Amazing... El Chip." Dollface read off the wall, trying to see through the eye sockets. She clicked her tongue in annoyance and pulled her helmet up.

A beaver in a sombrero smiled down at her.

She shivered at it's smiling latex face and moved on.

She had to find something...

Dollface knew how William had gotten them.

And she knew there was someone out there who'd finished the legacy. His name had been Hushell, and he was dead too now.

Was there another one out there?

Now just to make sure everything stayed put.

Dollface tripped over a pair of rotund children waving balloons and signs.

Ew.

There's a place I know if you're looking for a show, where they go hardcore and there's glitter on the floor!

Dollface ducked in, ignoring increased hissing.

Black and white checkered tiles gave way to arcade carpet once again. The neon designs glowed into her retinas behind the mask. But what really got her concerned was the glitter on the floor of the 'Rockstar Room'.

The classic band of Freddy, Chica, Bonnie stood on the stage, dressed in one of the living bands costumes.

Well, sorta.

It was like they'd based the designs of the suits on the The Fazbear Girl's latest costumes.

Whatever.

There were so many rooms!

And she still wasn't sure what she was looking for.

If anything, Dollface was just getting herself lost.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Dollface turned on her heels with a squeal, tracks stopping dead. She put her arms up by her golden face, shaking in the sterile beam of a security guard's flashlight. She could barely see him through squinting, aching eyes.

Ugh! She'd never get used to the darkness again!

She needed to stall!

But what to do??!

Before she could think anything up, the guard screamed, blood burbling from his gaping jaws like red puke.