Dead Fingers Pull The Trigger

The sunlight hit Mike's eyes again. He refused to acknowledge the outside world for at least several minutes before he heard his bedroom door open and Jeremy yelled, "Mike, get up! We still gotta go get groceries an' then haul ass over to Freddy's!"

The door slammed and Mike picked his head up to look at his nineteen-eighties model alarm clock at the side of his bed. It was four-sixteen in the afternoon. "Cock an'balls," he grumbled. "Right back to my college sleep schedule after two weeks." He pushed himself up and tried his damndest not to allow himself to fall back down into the welcoming sheets of his bed.

As with all things, though, he forced himself to get out and dressed, just in time to see Jeremy waiting at the door with his keys. He nodded his head to indicate Mike should "get a move on." Mike himself muttered something along the lines of "I'm comin', I'm comin', fuck's sake" as they walked out their apartment. Several minutes later, they were cruising along the street along with the start of rush-hour traffic on their way to the store.

Mike, annoyed with the silence of the car, decided to flick the radio on while stopped at a red light. It went straight to the classic rock station, something he had a distinct fondness for, after growing up in the late eighties and early nineties. He grinned smugly and began bobbing his head in time with the rhythm of Free Fallin'...which lasted all of five seconds when he realized he'd heard this before, and it was in the closing vocal loop.

"Oh come on," he huffed, crossing his arms. Jeremy couldn't help but chuckle at Mike's indignation.

"For those of you too young to know and too busy driving to look it up," said the middle-aged DJ over the radio, "that was Free Fallin' by Tom Petty. Later on, we'll be bringing up The Joker, Take it Easy, and Just What I Needed." The radio immediately flashed to a blasting jingle Mike and Jeremy immediately recognized as something some small-time, local auto repair and shoppe used.

"...Aaand, there's the commercials," Mike deadpanned. "Gong."

He switched the radio again. Several times, in fact. Nothing but garbage on each and every channel, according to him at least. He groaned and leaned back, prompting Jeremy to lean over and flick the AM radio on. Straight to the local news station.

"Oh boy, more homicide!" Mike exclaimed with mocking glee. Jeremy scowled and ignored him, as per usual.

"...was all we have time for, thank you for letting us interview you, sir. In other news," the anchor read off on the other side of the airwaves, "today is a sad day for the industry of children's entertainment. It's recently come to light by immediate family that Camilla Sutton passed away this morning. A local celebrity and an entertainer at heart, she was known for her role as being the beloved voice of 'Bonnie Rabbit' from the old 'Fredbear and Friends' cartoons, as well as the mascot herself during the heyday of Fredbear's Family Diner, alongside Malcolm Riche, God rest his soul."

Mike, for once in his life, was actually interested in what the newscaster had to say. It was something that Jeremy was interested in, too, apparently, as he said, "'Fredbear an' Friends?' Didn't ya tell me ya watched that show before, Mike?"

"Damn right I did," Mike said. "Got the whole damn collection, too. It cost mom a small fortune, but I was still a spry little kid and tight on dough, so I could get away with it on account of my..." He swung his head around to flip his hair. "Dashing good looks."

Jeremy nearly choked on his spit from trying to stifle a laugh. "Doctors report Camilla died of natural causes," the anchor continued. "A formal service will be held for friends and family tomorrow."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A natural death for once," Jeremy noted. "Maybe things're startin' to calm down 'round here."

"Yeah, for the normal people," Mike scoffed as they pulled into the grocer's parking lot.

The Kroger's on South Pine Road was pretty much the only place Jeremy could go for food without overextending money for gas. The place only saw a lot of business on Sunday, so thankfully, the two of them never had to worry about being held up for work, appointments,or anything urgent, unless the holidays were getting close. As they walked through the aisles, Jeremy pulled out and started going over his list. "Okay, so we need, uh, more cereal, two bottles of milk, a bag of granola…"

"An' a two-liter'a Pepsi," Mike added in.

"No."

"Fuck."

Jeremy noticed a middle-aged man turn his head around to glare at Mike for his language, but he knew Mike wouldn't care. Mike blew another bubble of the gum he'd saved from Freddy's in a Ziploc baggie and glanced around the aisle. Nothing but breakfast cereals and healthy foods through the whole thing. He let the bubble pop so he could mutter, "How does this shit sell if it's got no taste to it? I may as well shovel cardboard down my throat."

Jeremy picked a bag of granola off the shelf, labeled "NutriFresh Whole Grain," and said, "'Cause a lotta people wanna eat healthy. I don't blame'em, considering how reliant everyone else is on processed crap."

Mike scoffed. "Healthy stuff isn't much better. They just make it look good so people pay out their ass for it."

"I don't know why I keep arguin' with you," Jeremy replied. "We've had this exact same conversation before."

"And yet here we are." Mike smirked as Jeremy groaned and threw two bags, one after the other, into his shopping cart.

"Mike," Jeremy began, "would y'all go an' get some boxes of cereal t'help me out?"

He scoffed and walked away. "Sure, Doctor Frankenstein, want me to get you a brain, too?" Mike called over his shoulder.

"Do it so I can get some peace an' quiet, huh?"

Mike left without another word, and Jeremy continued with his shopping. All he needed, of course, was milk, and he bought two gallons of it along with apple juice and a few assorted sports drinks. He smiled as he tossed them all into his cart and made for the checkout counter back at the front. Today felt productive, he knew it somewhere deep down inside. Of course, all those thoughts were put on hold when he heard Mike yell his name.

"What…?"

Jeremy turned to see Mike walking up to him and holding a bag of fun-size Milky Ways. As soon as he recognized it, Jeremy facepalmed and groaned, "No, Mike."

Mike immediately stopped and pivoted around in place and vocalized his impression of the mating call of a wild elk with a twisted ankle, walking back to where he first took the candy. He came back a minute later, empty-handed and sour-faced. "C'mon, sourpuss, let's go," Jeremy said, motioning for Mike to follow him to the checkout counter. Mike only sighed in exasperation again.

The music was winding down in the speakers hidden overhead. Mike had resigned himself to sitting on the main stage, playing on his 3DS. Again. He'd remained like that, ignoring and not giving a shit about the confused and sometimes somewhat dirty looks from the few parents still in the establishment gave him. Soon, Shannon passed by, and commented, "Mister Schmidt, you shouldn't sit on that stage. And you technically shouldn't be distracted on the job, either."

Mike raised his eyes and his eyes only over the edge of his 3DS. He looked back down slowly, muttering, "I'm an adult, I do what I want."

"Need I remind you you're also on the clock?" she replied.

"I been workin' my ass off all day," he continued, not looking up from his game. "A man can't have a break?"

"And what exactly were you doing?" Shannon asked.

"Making sure none of these little bastards got themselves killed," Mike replied nonchalantly. He ignored Shannon's hushed cautioning use of language, as usual, and continued, "It's a lot harder than it looks, though I doubt you'd have any experience with it." Shannon stared at Mike, unmoving and unblinking, for a couple minutes before he actually noticed and shot a paranoid glance at her from behind his 3DS. "...Don't you have anything better to do than creep me out?"

She snapped back to reality, and though Mike's words cut like knives, she did nothing save for pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. Without another word, Shannon turned and walked away, subconsciously flipping her hair out of her face. Mike watched her go and shook his head. "Waste of my time…"

"'Scuse me…?" Mike's head shot back up to see a young man probably a couple years younger than him standing a few feet away, carrying a toolbox, some cables, and wearing overalls and a grey t-shirt. "I, uh, got called in to work on the bots in back. Corporate says they gotta be upgraded."

Mike stared at him for a moment before he quickly stood himself up and put on his best smile. "Right, gotcha! They're thisaway, follow me!" he exclaimed as he motioned for the technician to follow on. And, of course, it didn't take them long to reach where they needed to go; just around a corner and through a door that led to a service and maintenance room. The lights were off, but Mike kept the door open just enough for light from the outside to come in, and there were shelves all around the wall with sprockets, bolts, gears, computer chips, and other assorted pieces of tech Mike had no idea how to work.

In addition, the four originals had been "moved" into the room as well at an earlier point in the day, and were currently standing idly around near the back of the room. They looked normal to anyone coming into the room to, say, fix them up, but to Mike, they were eerily still, only blinking periodically. He did see Foxy wink at him though, so he at least knew nothing had gone wrong with them. Not that he knew how anything could.

"Alrighty, then," the technician said, "another round of 'Try-not-to-break-the-antiques.'"

Mike chuckled to himself, and he glanced behind him, at the door. "Yeah," he said, carefully sliding his left foot back a few inches, but keeping himself turned to face the technician, "'Antiques.' That's a good one."

The other guy walked around the table in the center to get a better look at the four of them and scratched his chin, muttering, "Now where do I start's the question…"

After another moment, Mike felt his hand on the door, and he quickly shoved it back and shut it. Everything went pitch black, and it certainly didn't go unnoticed.

"Christ, it's dark in here, what just happened? Did you shut the door?"

"Sorry, mate," Mike replied. "It just makes it harder for someone to see this."

"See wha—" The guy never got to finish his question as Mike bashed him over the back of his head with his bare fist, and he fell to the ground unconscious.

Mike paused to check and make sure he was out before he heard someone walk up to him, and glanced up at Freddy and smirked. "That was fun."

Freddy rolled his eyes and strode over to a light switch on the left wall and replied, "Better not get used to it."

All was quiet on the home front. It had taken two days for the pizzeria to recover from the savage beatdown that had rocked its foundations prior, but everything looked to be taken care of. More or less; nobody was going to notice the odd, vaguely-human shapes made in the outline of the plaster on the walls and floor unless that's what they were specifically looking for.

Jeremy had done his routine, cleaning the floors and the tables, and went back into Toyland. The lights had dimmed and the curtains were drawn, and he sighed in contentment, having mopped up the floor a couple hours earlier. He sat down at one of the tables, took out his phone and notepad, and began scribbling on it; he kept at it for a few minutes before he felt the presence of something close by, thanks to his sixth sense.

He glanced up from his drawing and surveyed the room. Half-dark, a couple lights flickering. To his left was the Toyland stage, and the curtains were drawn. Jeremy pursed his lips and started tapping his pencil on the table until he decided to turn a bit further to his right; he recoiled and sputtered when he saw Toy Bonnie standing over his shoulder and staring down at him intently, though he stood up when he saw Jeremy look at him, to put space between their heads. "Oh, sorry, Jeremy," he muttered. "I saw you concentrating and didn't want to throw you off."

"I'd actually feel better if you'd make some noise to at least lemme know you're behind me next time, Blue," Jeremy replied.

Toy Bonnie nodded and Jeremy was about to go back to drawing when he heard something scraping the tile from a hallway over. It didn't take him long to figure out what it was as Toy Chica came skating in on rollerblades, yelling "Woo-hoo…!" at the top of her lungs.

Jeremy hadn't even turned around fully before he held out his hand, holding one telling finger as he called, "Lady, y'all gonna break your neck in a minute!"

"Relax!" she called as she skated back across the floor again, "I got my helmet on and that's what matters!" Toy Chica continued to roll by before she tripped, screamed, and tumbled across the floor. Jeremy sucked in a breath through his teeth and immediately jumped out of his chair and ran over, and Toy Bonnie did the same. She'd taken a rough landing, but as Jeremy ran up and supported her enough to keep her upright, he couldn't see any cuts; just some fresh bruises starting to form.

"Y'all okay?" he asked.

Toy Chica groaned and rubbed her shoulder. "I think so…" she muttered.

"I'll get some bandages if you need'em." Toy Bonnie turned and sighed, "Good ol' danger-prone Amber, where would we be without you?"

"Hey! I am not danger-prone!"

Her argument was cut off preemptively as heavy footsteps began drumming on the floor, coming closer, until Bonnie and Chica appeared in the entrance to Toyland. Chica looked worried, but Bonnie looked close to freaking out as his eyes scanned the entire area in a panic. When he saw Toy Chica being held up by Jeremy several feet away, he jumped and hurried over and bent down at her side. "Oh my Gawd! Ambah! You okay? Who hurt you? I'll make'em regret bein' born!"

"I fell, fluff-bun, relax." Toy Chica giggled as Bonnie smothered her with a tight hug until Chica walked up and bent down on her other side, with a small prompt from Jeremy to let her go.

He did so slowly, and Chica kept her propped up herself. "Amber, are you sure you're okay? Let me see your eyes," she said as she pivoted Toy Chica's neck around to look into her eyes. "No, no concussion...no cuts I can see, either."

Jeremy stepped back and smiled gently...right up until he felt Mike push him aside and walk past. He grunted and quickly glanced up at him; it took him a moment to realize he looked more grim than usual. "...Somethin' wrong, Mike?"

Mike stopped and glanced back, obviously not expecting anyone to notice about him or care, but he quickly replied, "The lights in party room three and Pirate Cove are fucked. I'm goin' to find replacements."

Jeremy frowned. "You need help?"

Mike shot a glance back at him, feigning offense. "Are you implying I can't change a lightbulb?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"Cork it before I make you, Thumper," Mike spat at Bonnie before he glanced back at Jeremy and gave him a hand-wave and kept walking toward the back hallway.

"You probably shouldn't move much for the next hour at least to make sure you don't strain anything," Chica said as she helped her younger, more excitable self up. "Blue, go get an ice bag and some painkillers, if you can find them."

"...Oh, shit."

Blue waved and started to make his way to the left of the group, toward the other side of the pizzeria. "I'll be back in two shakes!"

"Guys?"

Chica led Toy Chica to a nearby table and had her sit down, along with Bonnie, who was busy obsessing over her health. Jeremy only smirked and shook his head. It was actually kind of cute. He also noticed a few others filter in from the main area, Freddy and Foxy, along with Toy Freddy, too, probably drawn by all the noise. Nobody noticed what was twisting around Mike's legs.

"Guys?"

"What?" everyone exclaimed simultaneously as they looked over at Mike. Unfortunately, their voices died in their throats when they saw him staring back at all of them with an apprehensive expression on his face, surrounded by a vibrant purple fog

"We got a problem."

It rolled forward, slowly, but it spread out quickly over the whole floor. The fog rose, an ethereal purple slug oozing over filth. In no time, it had blocked out everything below three feet off the ground, and the longer it lingered, the thicker it became. Toy Chica scrambled to Bonnie's side and clutched his arm while the rabbit himself sneered and brandished his guitar, Foxy bared his teeth, Freddy and Chica stood back-to-back, Toy Freddy put up his fists despite the obvious sweat trickling down his forehead, and Toy Bonnie pulled out his guitar, too. "Wh-where is he?" Toy Freddy asked no one in particular.

The curtains on the stage were flung open, causing some of the fog to dissipate. Through the mist, they saw a human shape step out into the open, chanting, "Ladies and gentlemen...! Boys and girls…! Sit down and sit tight, the show is starting…!"

Everyone whipped around to look his way, and Freddy huffed, "Well, ya got three guesses and the first two don't count."

The stage lights flared to life all by themselves, spinning as if in their show mode before settling down on the stage itself. The human shape raised its arms up high on both sides, and clapped once. The fog was blown away immediately, thinning out and disappearing completely as if nothing had been there. Up and front stage was Francisco himself, looking no worse for wear and sporting a psychotic grin. It fell after a minute though, simmering as a wry smirk.

Everyone was frozen, staring at him, unsure of what to do. Except Mike. He was frozen because he was busy trying to think of new and inventive ways to kill him. At least, that's what Jeremy and everyone close to him imagined. Francisco took this silence to his advantage. "Hello again," he said. "Surprised to see me...? You shouldn't be."

There wasn't even time to breathe before Freddy took a threatening step forward and put his right arm up to keep Chica and everyone behind him back and protected. "Ya shouldn't'a come back, 'cause now ya got me angry. Nobody comes in here an' messes with my family!" he barked.

"Yeah!" Bonnie chimed in walking up behind Freddy. "...Even if they are packin'...freaky...weird...paranormal crap."

Francisco broke out into sharp, cold laughter, and was barely even done as he exclaimed, "Ha-ha…! Oh...oh, wow. Family, huh...?" He breathed out and got his hysterics in check before continuing, "Guess it figures. Only way a freak can be accepted is by bein' with other freaks."

"Oi! Who're you callin' 'freak,' you freak?" Toy Bonnie challenged. Francisco rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"And how the hell did y'all even get in here, anyway?" Jeremy instigated.

Francisco only smirked and held up a dented hairpin. "Back door," he stated coolly; said hairpin was suddenly consumed by a purple aura and it disappeared in a small explosion of energy. He paused a moment to run his hand through his hair before he said, "Listen, for the shit I might've given you...it's really not personal."

This comment made everyone stare at him quizzically, but only Bonnie had the nerve to talk. "...It ain't…?" he questioned.

"Nope," Francisco continued. "Just what I'm gettin' rewarded for. But don't worry...no one's gonna miss you." Once he said that, it became apparent that it no longer mattered whether or not Francisco's apology was genuine; Foxy actually quivered as if he wanted to run ahead full speed, but had mentally forced himself not to. "Besides," he continued, "you could be useful for my n̨̞̮͉̤e̵͇̺͎̠̻̪w҉̠̤̗̫ ̯̘p͓͚̜̤̩ro͚͕͕̬j̬͚̮͠e̱͜c̯͖̗̥̖t̲̫̙̲͉s̹̜͎͓̱."

"Well, if you're done bein' a loud little cunt," Mike interrupted, "you should probably get lost. You're outnumbered thirteen—" He cut himself off and glanced around, suddenly aware there weren't as many people there as he thought. "...Nine to one. Won't matter if you got ectoplasm runnin' through your arteries if we bleed it outta you."

There was silence...then a scoff. Francisco crossed his arms and looked down at them. "...Maybe." He snapped his fingers, and the curtains fell across the stage. "But that's why I got backup."

"Oh no…" Chica whispered. "He brought help?"

"Who'd be helping him?" Toy Bonnie muttered to Toy Freddy; the bear's eyes darted back to him and he only made a small shrug.

As everyone took a quick, nervous glance at each other, Francisco took an abrupt step backward and walked all the way over to the curtains, proclaiming, "Ladies and gentlemen, it's an early Throwback Thursday, and we're going all the way back to nineteen eighty-four!" He stopped in front of the curtains, turned, and recited, "After a thirty-three year break, she's back, and she's got a mean streak wider than the Grand Canyon and twice as deep! She can dance! She can sing! She can make up guitar licks on the fly! Please welcome back to the stage…" The lights flickered once, and something threw the curtains aside. There were scattered, almost horrified gasps.

A rabbit with faded yellow fur that looked olive-green in the right lighting, wearing a lavender tank top with a matching arm glove on her left side and black denim short shorts. Half her right ear was missing, the stump covered by yellowed bandages, as well as everything below and around her ankles. There were dozens of scars running across her body as well, the largest being concentrated on her face; the one crossing her right eye was especially disconcerting. The mystery of what Francisco had done with the old suit was solved. "...Bonnie Rabbit herself," Francisco finished as he walked up beside her.

She jerked her neck side to side to crack it. "'Springs,'" she huffed. "I'm not Bonnie Rabbit anymore."

"Says who?" Francisco asked with a mocking expression.

Springs barely moved her head as she fixed her red eyes on him. "Says me, bonehead."

Everyone could only stare in muted fear and Francisco glanced from Springs back across to them. "Yeah, she's a wild one, all right. But I guess that's what being left to rot for over thirty years'll do to ya."

"Now, hold on just a minnit…" Francisco, and everyone else, froze to look at Freddy. He held up his finger for a second longer before he lowered his arm, fixed his bowtie, and pointed at Springs. "Why ya sidin' with him…?" as he gestured to Francisco.

"Gee, I dunno," Springs replied sarcastically as she put a thoughtful finger on her chin. "Maybe it's 'cause I was locked up for God-knows-how-long, and nobody ever bothered to clean me up, gimme some care. And you of all people should know just 'cause something ain't alive doesn't mean it can't think."

"An' ya think that gives ya good reason to be angry…? We been sufferin' the same way; we got more in common than ya think." That did nothing but get a dismissive scoff from Springs. Thinking as quickly as he could, Freddy implored, "...What good is this gonna do ya?"

Springs kept staring down at him and remained silent before she said plainly, "Do I need a reason?"

Francisco grinned as the creeping corruption spread across his eyes. "Sounds like a solid argument to me. Let's get started!" He immediately jumped off the stage and charged right into the gathered crowd, and he opened by throwing his arms out to both sides, creating a shockwave that blew back everyone nearby except Jeremy and Toy Freddy. Francisco immediately set upon Foxy and laid down a flurry of punches to his face, and while Foxy did flail about, he quickly returned with a jab of his own that landed in Francisco's chest and got him to stumble off.

Freddy capitalized on it by jumping upright and running straight for Francisco, and he lashed out with a somewhat sloppy but no less powerful punch aimed at his head. Francisco recovered quickly, and ducked down before he surged forward, grabbed Freddy around his waist, and threw him over his shoulder like a judo master. Freddy yelled as he flew through the air and tumbled across the floor before smashing into a table, which gave Francisco enough time to pivot and run straight for him. Freddy, however, was able to prop himself up just in time to stop Francisco from punching him, knocking the blow aside with his wrist. He grunted in pain, certain there was going to be a bruise there tomorrow.

If he lived to see tomorrow.

While the two of them had been brawling, everyone else had gotten back on their feet, and Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy all rushed Francisco at the same time. Bonnie managed to hit him over the head with his guitar while he was distracted; it was hard enough that Francisco yelped in pain as he got sent face first into the floor and dogpiled by everyone except Freddy, who took the time to get back up. However, before he could get in on the pummeling, Francisco rolled away from the group in the only direction he wasn't being attacked from, which was where Freddy was, and jumped back up.

He was now bleeding from his nose and a cut on his lip, and if looks could kill, everyone around him would have been reduced to ash. Acting quickly, he kicked behind him, which connected with Freddy's stomach and sending him stumbling back before Francisco turned to meet the other three, and when Bonnie followed him to try and hit him again, this time he blocked the blow, ripped the guitar out of Bonnie's hands, and turned it against its master.

As Bonnie reeled backward after getting a lashing across his face, Foxy tried to punch him again, something Francisco dodged without even breaking a sweat. Chica tried to hit him with an overhead swing, but he grabbed her wrist as it came down and proceeded to swing her entire body over his head and smashed her into the floor. She squawked (and actually squawked) in pain, and Freddy ran back to try his luck at beating the stuffing out of Francisco. The four of them together provided an even match for the human, a testament to whoever was sharing his headspace.

The remaining five, Jeremy, Mike, Toy Chica, Toy Bonnie, and Toy Freddy, had watched the beatdown start, but before they could join in, Springs had grabbed Toy Freddy's head and used it as leverage to vault over him. He grunted a small, "Oof!" and was immediately silenced when she punched him right in the mouth. Toy Bonnie came at her next with a wild swing, which she sidestepped and used her momentum to kick him in the back of the head, sending him sprawling across the floor.

Then there was a gunshot.

It went wide, the phantasmal bullet exploded next to Springs' ear, not like a bomb, but like a party popper. It was still enough to get her ears ringing, and she whipped around to see who had caused it, and lo and behold, there was Jeremy, standing a dozen feet away after retreating to try and subdue her with his ghost guns. As soon as her eyes met his, his face twisted into an expression of pure, unfiltered fear. He let loose another bullet, which hit her in the arm. She cried out again as it felt like everything below where the bullet had hit went numb, but surged forward anyway, opting to use her other limb.

The numbness subsided quickly, which Springs used to her advantage as she closed in on Jeremy and swung at him with a one-two combo; the first punch missed thanks to a timely duck, but the second one may have broken his nose. Jeremy staggered back, hand over his face and his nose and lip bleeding. Springs capitalized on his condition by landing a kick to his gut that sent him flying backward.

It was then Toy Chica intervened by charging up to Springs and tackling her from behind. The rabbit yelped as they crashed into the floor, and Toy Chica quickly pinned her arms behind her back and put as much of her weight on Springs' legs as she could. "I got 'er, guys! I got—" Springs cut her off by rolling over, which got Toy Chica to loosen her grip and lose her balance, and Springs swung her arm around to backhand her in the face. She then proceeded to turn the tables by pinning Toy Chica and continuing to wail on her for another few seconds before she jumped backward, pivoted and raised her leg to scissor-kick her and finish the job.

She was halted when someone grabbed her collar from the back and spun around, causing her to choke from the strain on her neck, which didn't get better as her assailant proceeded to chuck her straight into the Toyland stage. She flew through the curtains, there was loud crashing as she hit the props being stored backstage, and the one who tossed her back pursued her to make sure the job was done.

Springs pushed herself up off the floor, massaging her head and trying to get the spots out of her vision. She heard someone push past the curtains and stood up as fast as the possible concussion would allow and brought her fists up. "Oh, you're gonna get it now."

Said pursuer, Mike, gingerly walked forward, stopped, and brought his fists up, and before Springs could continue, he fired back, "At least let me buy you dinner first, babe."

"...You motherfuck—"

The corners of Mike's mouth turned upward into a smirk and he dashed forward and lashed out with three punches. All of them connected, and Mike proceeded to dance around her left and jab his elbow into her back. She stumbled forward, and Mike jumped over her head, his fist became engulfed in golden fire and he tried for one last hit.

Unfortunately, he underestimated her constitution, as Springs ducked down on reflex and kicked back and nailed him square in the jaw.

Mike choked (muffled by the fact it happened at the same time he got wrecked) and got thrown backward far enough that he flew back out from backstage. Toy Freddy, Toy Bonnie, and Jeremy had been climbing up onto the stage, coincidentally, and Jeremy nearly got bowled over when Mike came flying out. Toy Freddy's head whipped around to stare at them in shock, which quickly turned to horror when Springs threw the curtains aside and snarled at him. "I'm gonna take you apart and rearrange you like a modern art masterpiece," she seethed. "And I'm gonna take it nice and slow, carefully pulling at your joints 'til they dislocate." She took a few menacing steps forward. Toy Freddy took one step back and nearly fell off the stage. Jeremy and Mike looked up just in time to get off of each other and start to move backward.

"I...it...would it be...too late...rather uncultured to ask for...o-or request...to parley…?" Toy Freddy stammered.

Springs' mouth curled into a derisive smirk. "Maybe. Depends on how much you scream." She took another few steps forward. Toy Freddy, Jeremy, Toy Bonnie, and Mike jumped off the stage; Toy Bonnie looked back. Francisco was kicking ass and not bothering with names. Foxy and Freddy were holding their own, but Bonnie and Chica were losing momentum. And blood. Lots of blood.

"L-look, look, I'm...I'm sorry about what happened to you," Toy Bonnie chimed in, which got Springs' death glare to refocus on him. "I kn-know that's probably small...not much cons-consolation, but, uh, th-there's more...positive...outlets...for the frustration, y'know?"

"...Yeah." Springs' posture relaxed slightly and she crossed her arms for a moment before she snapped back to an aggressive stance. "But there isn't a goddamn thing you can offer me to change my mind, so...tough shit. Now, less talking, more bleeding."

Another step forward. The others backed up in equal measure, but Toy Bonnie continued, in spite of his increasing stutter and sweat, "Alright, b-but before you do that…can I just say one last thing before you punch a hole in my head?"

Springs sneered and flexed her fingers. "This better be good."

"It is. Well it will be," Toy Bonnie admitted. Then, suddenly, his expression shifted to something cocky and borderline triumphant. He jumped and pointed at her and exclaimed, "'Cause you just fell for the oldest trick in the book!"

While she and the others had been talking, something had slipped down from the rafters behind her. She looked down and uttered, "What the fu—" before getting rapidly cut off when a strand of self-illuminated, silvery string wrapped itself around her ankles and pulled. Springs shrieked as she was yanked upward and into the air, which got most everyone to look at the scene playing out. She went up, came back down, and smashed into the ground face-first.

Groaning, world spinning, body and mind reeling in equal measure, she pushed herself back up again on shaky arms before the Puppet itself came down from the inky blackness above the stage and landed directly on top of her, smashing her into the floor again before somersaulting off like an Olympic gymnast and standing over her body. It leaned down, unnaturally, as the thing's frame allowed it a whole range of uncanny movement, and said, "You should...say your prayers…" It reached down, picked Springs up, and swung her over its head and slammed her into the ground again, then kicked her hard enough to send her flying. And it just so happened that she got sent straight toward Francisco. The original four managed to get out of the way before they collided and tumbled across the floor as a mess of arms and legs before they smashed into the back wall separating Toyland from the main area.

Francisco hissed as he tried to get up, only to find Springs was on top of him; he warned her with a frustrated "Get…!" She was up in a flash, dazed, cut and bleeding in several places, but alive and still grimacing at their enemies. Francisco stood to his full height, bleeding from his lips and several gashes across his arms, and a couple spots on his shirt were turning red, but he scowled and raised his hand.

Violet energy began coalescing in his open palm, and everyone was about to duck down or get out of the way before a black arm shot out from the wall and gripped Francisco's wrist. His concentration momentarily interrupted, Francisco whipped his head over his shoulder; a tall, pitch-black, lumbering form of Fredbear stood over him. Eyes formed in the face, going from pure white to realistic and bloodshot. "...Been awhile, ain't it, Mister Aft'n?"

Before he could retaliate, Malcolm twisted his hand, causing Francisco to shriek as he was bent backward at an awkward angle and the black ghost swung his fist down to pound him into the floor again. Springs immediately lunged at the larger apparition and swung her fist at his head, but Malcolm snapped up and caught it with his own hand. He squeezed, which got her to cry out in pain before he plugged her right in the nose. She staggered away, and Malcolm went back to focusing on Francisco. However, the human was surprisingly prepared for that course of action, as, after he cleared the mist and stars from his eyes, glared up with hatred at the ghost and pushed his palm out, creating a blast of purple energy that knocked Malcolm off-balance and seemed to disintegrate the left side of his head, and Francisco stood up and ran toward Springs as fast as he could.

They didn't know what he was planning, but Foxy, Mike, and Toy Bonnie all lunged after him to make sure it never happened. Francisco was one step ahead of them as he quickly pivoted and released another purple shockwave that was far more powerful than the first one he used to start the fight. It sent all three of them bowling backward, and Mike and Toy Bonnie crashed into Freddy and Chica, who had decided to follow. Turning back, Francisco grabbed onto Springs' wrist and pulled her away from Toyland, into a side hallway, one he knew led to the back door. "Ow! Shit! What're you doing!?" she yelled.

"Come on, woman! We ain't winning this one!" He led her into the hall, lined on both sides by nothing but paper crafts and children's drawings, and he turned his upper body around so he could look behind him. The performers who hadn't been hit when he used the shockwave would come after him, he knew they would, so he raised his free hand, aimed roughly behind him. From the tips of his fingers, a deep purple fog began to leak out and it continued until it almost looked like a curtain of smoke had blocked off the hall. Francisco kept willing the fog to pour out, even as the voice in his head admonished him.

No! You spineless little bastard, ignore Riche! Kill them!

Francisco yelled in reply, "Fuck you, old man, I'm not dying today!" He kept willing the fog to pour out until the curtain had become dozens of feet thick and the both of them turned the corner; not even a couple seconds later, two white phantasmal bullets hit the wall at the end of the hallway after they pierced the smoke. Francisco and Springs retraced their steps through the pizzeria as fast as they could. It was just lucky for them the back door wasn't far away from Toyland.

Springs had been able to recover slightly in the time it took to run away, and she kicked the door open before she ran outside into the darkness. Francisco followed her, and they made a mad dash for the car they had parked in a lot adjacent to the one for Freddy's.

The pizzeria, meanwhile, was silent. Deathly silent. It was only broken when Bonnie announced, "Y'know, all things consid'ed, dat went pretty well, I think."

"Bonnie, that hooligan brought the Spring Bonnie suit to life...somehow...and it had enough vitality to give us a solid thrashing," Toy Freddy said.

"'Ey, no one died," he replied.

Toy Freddy massaged his back and muttered, "I came very close."

Then, there were footsteps, approaching from the main area. Everyone looked over to see two figures cross through the shadows, and once they were on the other side, everyone saw the faces of Toy Foxy and Balloon Boy morph into shock. Balloon Boy was the first one to talk. "Holy cow! What the heck happened to you guys!?"

Jeremy settled himself on the stage and exhaled deeply. "Francisco happened. He broke in, and brought a guest with him. We don't know how, but he managed to give life to the suit he stole a couple days back, called her 'Springs,'" he said as he rolled his arm. "And damn, does she hit hard."

Balloon Boy looked around the room, then to Toy Foxy who was nervously shifting in place, then back to everyone else. "How much did we miss?"

Foxy bit his lip and glanced away. "Erm...everything, methinks."

"What were you two even doin' all this time?" Freddy inquired.

The both of them were silent and shared a hesitant, embarrassed glance. "...Cooking pizza." Toy Foxy murmured.

Bonnie's jaw hung open for a moment, and Balloon Boy quickly added, "Crap, I...I dunno how we didn't know what was happening! I-if we had, we would've come running!"

Mike scoffed and rolled his eyes, as did Bonnie. "Ah, don't worry 'bout it. Everything's okay now," Freddy replied.

There was a pause as Chica looked back at Bonnie and Toy Freddy, standing looking over her Toy counterpart. She was still out cold from the beating Springs had given her. "But, uh, Cherry…?" Chica said. Toy Foxy's eyes swept up to meet her. "Would you mind getting an ice pack? And maybe some aspirin?" Toy Foxy nodded fervently and hastily left the room to check the nearest supply closet. When she left, Chica turned to look at the wispy form of Malcolm. He had reconstituted himself, but only after Francisco and Springs had vacated the premises. "Thanks for the help, Mister Riche."

Malcolm only bowed his head. "Ah, it was nothin'. I felt bad fer not helpin' all y'all the first time that smarmy li'l delinquent broke in," he replied. He sunk back into the wall and before he fully disappeared and said, "Call me when y'all need me."

"I believe...I will...take my leave...as well…" Puppet added. They floated away, toward the prize corner without another word.

Everything went quiet again. Toy Foxy eventually returned with ice, bandages, and painkillers, and Bonnie grabbed them from her as soon as he saw her enter Toyland again. "I can't believe what that bastard did," Bonnie grumbled as he applied the ice to Toy Chica's forehead and started wrapping bandages around the more serious wounds. "He's got some nerve, usin' the Spring Bonnie suit against us."

"It is quite deplorable," Toy Freddy said, "that he has somehow coaxed her to his side."

Mike joined in, without much care to whether or not the conversation was private, as usual; he just did it because he could overhear the two of them talking. "Yeah, it's too bad. She's hot as fuck," he said as he propped himself up on a the stairs of a miniature slide.

This, understandably, got everyone within earshot to look at him like he'd grown a second head from his crotch. Bonnie, Toy Freddy, Jeremy, Foxy, and Toy Bonnie all stared at him, with varying expression of shock, fear, and revulsion, before Jeremy interjected, "Uh, Mike…? You feelin' alright? She hit you too hard, 'r somethin'?"

This got Mike's casual smile to drop as he stared daggers at Jeremy. "Did I fuckin' stutter...?"

"Mike…" Bonnie began as he stared up at him in abject disbelief. "Dat chick's a stone-cold killah. Before and after...whatevah Cisco did to 'er."

"Also, also, correct me if I'm wrong, but you're a member of the genus homo sapiens-sapiens. She is not," Toy Bonnie added with a tone of amusement.

Mike closed his eyes and nodded solemnly, once. "We all got a type, tho."

Jeremy nervously bit his lip and decided to switch subjects. "We should probably...uh…"

He nervously gestured to the surrounding area, and he and Mike stared at Toyland and all the pools and splatters of drying blood that had been tossed on the walls, floors, and attractions. They stayed utterly silent, taking in the carnage before Mike piped up, "Alright, alright, sure. Great. Someone get the fuckin' bleach."

A/N: I'm back! Revamped! The madness never ends…!

I'm really sorry about the hiatus; I don't have a better excuse than "I got sidetracked by a lot of other projects, school, and trying to find a job." This doesn't make up for the two-year absence, in my eyes, but hopefully it's something to tide you over for awhile.

Also, Spring Bonnie is a girl bc I saw Scott's FNAF World design for Spring Bonnie and was convinced it was supposed to be a girl and I'm too deep in this bitch to change it, fight me.