I took a shower for the second time that day. I felt dirty. Not in a sexy way- no, my thoughts seemed to seep into my skin- I felt like I'd been swimming in sewer water. Not to mention the awkward stitching on my stomach which was dripping with fresh blood. I wondered what would happen if I pulled them loose- bloody innards pile out?

At the sink mirror, I ignored my not-so-attractive and sickly-green complexion as I smoothed gel into my hair. Strands too many for comfort stuck to my fingers. My stomach wrenched. I'm too young to be losing hair! I immediately stopped trying to fix my hair and let it fall around my now pale face. My reflection was horrible, to say the least. Have my eyes gotten darker?

After putting on new clothes- specifically a hooded jacket to shadow my unsightly countenance- I did a few things to occupy my brain. To distract myself from reality. To ignore the pressing issues lurking inside me. Oh, and to pass the time. I played an 8-bit game on the computer- where pixelated bears attacked children- but I quickly grew bored with the repetitive mechanics. I took a short nap and dreamt of a field of various dancing children whose faces I didn't recognize. I fiddled with a Rubik's Cube until I got an entire row of purple. Wait- Purple wasn't one of the colours.

I kept thinking about where Father might be. The robots had threatened him using my body- was he too scared to come back? Or did he return to his underground circus and find that pool of my blood on the floor by his machine? I wanted to talk, but a very small part of me missed him. I imagined him hugging me for once, apologizing and reassuring me that everything would be fine and that he would fix it all, and as much as I liked to think that I hated him, I still craved that interaction.

"That's not going to happen," Circus Baby shattered my dream.

I found myself pacing through the hallways. I wanted to leave the house- to go anywhere for a sensation of temporary happiness like the arcade or the cinema- and even Circus Baby toyed with the idea of seeing the exciting aspects of a world she'd only dreamt about. But the memory of what lies underneath my skin shattered my fantasy.

Father has the car anyway.

I recorded a message for him, intending to leave the tape in a place where Father would easily find it. He needed to know why I wanted to talk to him, and in the instance that my little haunted pizzeria expedition took longer than or didn't go as planned, he needed to know for when I would return.

"Father… it's me, Michael." I explained everything that he had put me through, speaking carefully as if it were an interview. Hearing the story come out all at once- it overwhelmed me. I had been through a lot in little time.

"But something is wrong with me." I felt a warm tear fall on my hand and swallowed back an urge to break. "I-I should be dead. But I'm not." I thought back to my work incident, then further back to the day that started it all. The last birthday party. I wanted to tell him that I knew everything- that he was a murderer. My lip trembled.

"There's only one thing to do now," the words slipped past my lips with a determined tone.

"I'm going to come find you."

My voice trembled in a violent, mechanical creak- and I loathed it. I stopped recording and bit back the urge to crumble into a sob.

"I can't keep acting like this," I told myself. I wiped my face and leaned back on the couch. The anguish of the souls inside me set a crushing weight on my chest.

"Do you really think you're gonna find Da- your father?" Baby asked me. I fiddled with the belt loops on my pants. I tried to ignore her little slip-up.

"Uh, well, I hope-"

A low rustling clamour sounded from the kitchen. I snapped upright and whirled faster than the strike of a certain machine that will remain nameless.

Rats? Bears? Robots here to steal my body?!

I heard an annoyed quip from Circus Baby, "Dummy, we're already here."

Without bothering to think about my actions, I leapt over the back of the couch. Both it and myself crashed into the floor. I watched the kitchen trash can tip over as if in slow motion. What crawled out of it brought a scowl to my face.

"Not you again..."

A grin seemed to form from the little robot's plastic features. My emotions conflicted one another as I brought myself to my feet. That damn robo baby betrayed me. Her little dress is ripped.

"What are you doing back here?" I asked, trying to force some sort of aggression in my tone.

"How is she doing inside?" Chelsea hopped over my question. I faltered. Her/its movements felt too human.

"It's not terrific to have unintentionally committed vore."

That wasn't the correct response apparently. The Bidybab chattered its teeth.

"She's fine, I suppose," I answered without caring to ask- which I'm sure annoyed her. I hefted the couch upright with a grunt and looked back at the tiny robot. Half of her face was crushed- the damage in the shape of a large bite. My heart shrank.

"Are the other robot babies here too?" I blurted out the question. I could've sworn a dejected expression crossed her face.

"Funtime Foxy broke us. Some of us were not able to leave."

"That's right," I mumbled, then quickly swallowed my sympathy.

"I was the first," she continued with a whim of pride. "I wanted to make sure Circus Baby was okay."

"That's nice and all, but you are not welcome here. You betrayed me, remember?"

"We only did what she told us to. She wanted you to be in optimal condition. It is not that difficult to understand-"

"You're calling me stupid?" I shot, not really offended but tired of these privacy-violating robots. Chelsea's mouth snapped all the way open as if offended herself. Then she began to convulse, her arms swinging back and forth.

"What the hell…" I murmured in my hand. One slender arm emerged from the Bidybab's mouth, followed by a leg. Chelsea coughed up a one-armed Minireena.

"You-you just-"

"I saved it."

The Minireena giggled at my confusion.

"You have any more in there?" I asked with a grimace.

"Not inside," Chelsea replied, "but there are other Minireenas in the house as well. They liked you better when you were trapped inside the old skin. They are intimidated by you now."

The springlock suit, I grimaced. "Well, where are the little devils? I'm going to give them all a special greeting." I grabbed the broom before Chelsea led me down the hallway. She stopped at my room doorway. I sighed with a shake of my head and snapped open the closet door Eyes- yellow eyes- peered out at me.

"EEEAIIIEEE!"

They latched themselves to my face, mimicking my screech. I flung off the Minireenas at Mach speed. I dropped the broom in the process. Chelsea giggled.

"Not funny," I grumbled, rubbing away the afterimage of eyes in a closet. It wasn't a fox this time. I scowled at the Minireenas gathering at my feet. Without a proper voice box built in their systems, they could only laugh.

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"Why did we have to bring those again?" Mabel's eyes met the many eyes in the backseat of the car. "I mean, they're cute I guess, but couldn't you have just left them at your house?" I turned sideways in the shotgun seat to give the robots a glare. Their glowing eyes made it easier for me to see them in the dim light.

"Yeah, why didn't you just stay in the house? Why do you want to go so badly? You got robot friends to hang with?"

"Stop being mean," Circus Baby scolded. "They're going for the same reason you are: childish curiosity."

"I'm not being mean," I mumbled before realising Mabel can hear me. And I'm not being childish. What if Father is here?

Mabel parked the car a little ways from the pizzeria. I got out of the car and surveyed the area, the evening air warmer than I expected it to be. No one was here- not even Father. The building seemed new in some places and old in others- renovations, no doubt. The way old paint showed through cracks of new and an old sign badly covered one with unfamiliar faces… it seemed almost like an art form. Something borrowed, something new. My eyes lingered on its design, an action not my own.

"I've seen this place before," I heard the softest mutter from Circus Baby. I didn't comment on that because I felt the same way. I popped open the trunk and took out a flashlight and- Sighing, I picked up the white clown mask. The surface was smooth and left a chemical smell on my fingers.

"We're wearing the mask," Baby insisted. I winced. How could I forget seeing this emotionless face staring through the faded window? My stomach lurched.

"I don't want to wear this," I huffed with a shake of my head. Mabel raised an eyebrow.

"Then don't," she said. "Nobody's forcing you to." I chuckled half-heartedly. Baby used my arms to stick that stupid mask on my face. I peered at a confused Mabel through the eyeholes. Her brows softened suddenly.

"Is someone forcing you? Is this a dare or something? Are we being recorded-"

"No," I answered the last question with haste. That concerned look of hers didn't falter so I gave a little laugh that made her twitch. "We're just gonna look for some ghosts is all!" Just as I'd hoped, she matched my fake energy.

"Okay then, but if I die, you know my dad will kill you. Even if you die. You'll be double-dead." She ran a finger over her neck with a smile. My laugh wasn't genuine. I'm already double-dead.

I glanced over my shoulder at the metal individuals on my heels. "Stay in the car please."

"But Michael-"

"No, Chelsea, stay in the car." I flinched at tiny hands on my leg and picked off a Minireena. "All of you. We probably won't be that long anyway." Chelsea crossed her arms.

"What does Baby want me to do?"

Mabel frowned. "Baby?"

"She'll only get in the way, I suppose," the robot in question responded. "And I'm sure you don't want to have to round up the Minireenas when they get lost. Tell… Chelsea… and the others what I said."

"Baby… doesn't want you or the Reenas to get in the way," I hesitated, crouching to face them. "Just stay in the car, alright?" The words left a bad taste in my mouth- as much as I hated to admit, I didn't actually mind Chelsea's company. Though still pouting, she understood me and crawled back into the car. The Minireenas reluctantly followed her. When I turned back to Mabel, she tried and failed to erase a stupid smile off her face. My ears burned.

"Look at you being a dad," she remarked and playfully hit my shoulder. "You do want to keep them." I pocketed my hands as we walked.

"The Minireenas need to learn a thing or two about personal space and the Bidybabs act like real toddlers. It's a task to deal with them."

"But you like it, don't you?"

"No, no. Little devils need to go back to Hell." Mabel shot me a look. "Okay, okay, I guess they're not that bad, I guess."

"Aw," Circus Baby commented. "What about me?" My smile faded. You're using my skin without my permission.

"That's fair."

I used Father's key to unlock the door to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. The door creaked when I opened it and Mabel jumped three feet in the air.

"Sorry," she whispered. I rolled my eyes with a faint smile on my lips. And I thought I would be the jumpy one here.

I switched on the flashlight. The checkered tile under my feet was thick with dust. Nobody's mopped in a while.

Mabel examined a large box that was painted like a birthday gift. She turned the handcrank on its side and frowned when it did nothing interesting. I touched the cold frame of a tiny animal-themed carousel with an OUT OF ORDER sign on Bonnie's ears.

"Gnarly," I breathed at the ugly creatures. "Who would ride on these?" I whirled at a sudden creak. Mabel spun one of the metal pizzas fastened into the wall. It was just Mabel.

"I think my dad has taken me here before," she smiled. She neared the big robots on stage but kept her distance. I too looked up at the animatronics- Freddy, Foxy, Bonnie, and Chica. Their eyes stared blankly at the wall far behind me. My heartrate increased. They're so big. I tore my gaze away as my brain began to imagine the worst.

"Didn't you want to investigate them?" Baby asked me. "Go up there and investigate."

"No," I blurted out, then shrank. Was Bonnie always looking that direction? Swallowing, I climbed onto the stage. I was face-to-face with Freddy Fazbear. He stood a few inches above me, not counting his top hat.

"I wonder if he is like me," Baby hummed, to herself presumably. I snorted. If Father made this one, then probably.

"Let's open him up and find out-"

"Let's not," I hissed under my breath.

"You opened up Funtime Freddy without a problem. This one shouldn't be much different."

This Freddy doesn't have any faceplates… Am I going to find a dead kid in him?

"No… but you'll find evidence."

I'm no detective, I thought as I examined the bear robot's fur for a button or switch that would open something for me. But if I find evidence, maybe then I'll find out why Father could have done this. Holding my breath, I pulled on Freddy's bowtie. Something clicked and his chest popped open.

"That was easy," I sighed. My eyes darted up to the bear's face. No reaction. He didn't feel it.

"What are you doing?!"

I nearly leapt out of my skin at Mabel's sudden exclaim.

"Ah, just looking for anything suspicious," I called over my shoulder. "Ba- um, I- I have a feeling that Father may have hidden the… evidence inside." Mabel paled when she realized what I meant.

"Um, okay then. Be careful."

I forced a chuckle and my voice cracked. "He's not gonna bite off my head or anything."

Inside Freddy's chest cavity, wires dangled and metal bits jutted out in weird angles. No bodies in sight anywhere- although there was something abnormal wedged deep inside. My breathing quickening, I leaned in closer. Freddy's mouth lingered inches from my head.

"A hat," I noted. A red hat fit for a child or someone with a small head. My hand slowly approached it. I glanced up at the bear's striking blue eyes- not as striking as mine but close. "Ah… sorry, Freddy, but I-"

His chest panel slammed shut. "BLOODY F-" Baby clamped my free hand over my mouth, stifling my scream.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?!" Mabel shrieked, already climbing on stage. I forced my free hand down. Through gritted teeth I gave her an answer, "Could be worse…" Freddy's toothy grin taunted me as I tried to pry open his chest with one hand. Then I realised. Stupid. I stopped Mabel from trying to help with a raised finger. Freddy's chest panel snapped open as soon as I yanked his bowtie- and the force sent me off the stage. My back slammed against the tile hard.

Baby growled. "Do you want to break us?!"

"I didn't fall on purpose," I grumbled. I sat up and rubbed my spine. My hand, albeit a little red, was still attached to my arm. Mabel hurried to my side, blanching. She opened her mouth with the intent of spewing concerned blabber but a loud noise shut her up.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

The gift box began to play a tune- slow and sweet; a delicate child's tune. The tune began to speed up. The handcrank began to spin, clicking as it went. My eyes widened. Baby only sighed.

"Look at what you did, Michael. You just woke up the Puppet."