Clump. Clump. Clump.

The others were on the move.

Martin didn't like when they did that. He might've not minded if one of them had been Charlotte, but he didn't know the others that well. He tried to avoid them, even though he could sense that inside, they were like him, broken but put back together as Charlotte had done with himself.

But Martin had always been a bit shy.

And they were all so big! The smallest besides him was at least twice his height.

And their faces were...wrong. Their wide, staring eyes. Their open mouths. Their ever visible, blocky, white, teeth.

And just like that, Martin was reminded of Phil.

Martin didn't like thinking about Phil. Thinking about Phil made him cry, and after Charlotte had put him back together. His screams, sobs, all the loud long noises sounded

Like

Laughter.

Martin laughed when he was happy, sad, angry, disturbed, and afraid. Through it all, he laughed. It mostly happened when he was afraid, but that was because where he lived, fear was everywhere.

If Martin stayed in one place for too long, he felt the fear, more and more. With every clump clump clump, the fear inside of his soul grew stronger.

If he stayed still after he was running away, it felt good. Like he was hiding from them, evading them.

But eventually, the stillness became oppressive. Like he was trapped. Like he was frozen and they just kept getting closer.

Then he moved, and everything grew calmer again, and he felt good like he was getting away from them.

But eventually, the constant motion became unnerving. Like he was making too much noise, drawing too much attention to himself, too much, too much…

And he would stop.

And the cycle would begin again.

He knew what they were capable of. They had broken him once. He couldn't always have Charlotte be there to put him back together.

When one of Them came into Jeremy's office, it was very simple to solve the problem.

All he had to do was put on a mask. A mask designed to obscure his head and make him look like Freddy Fazbear.

All it took was looking like one of Them, and They left him alone.

Jeremy wasn't precisely sure what would happen if he were to slack on his simple disguise and let Them see himself as he was.

But the guy on the phone, despite his deep nostalgia for the older models, had seemed so very nervous and so very insistent that it was necessary.

And he did so hate the way They looked at him.

Something was wrong. Jeremy could tell that much.

I won't let Them get me. Jeremy felt his eye twitch and swallowed his nerves, replaced with steely resolve.

He forced a grin. I won't let Them get me.