AN: Hey guys! Internets out again, so heres a chapter from yours truly.
TC looked at the huge house and could only think one thing: Welp, shit.
She had never been to Mangles house, but she was pretty sure that if the house is half the size of a castle, then Mangle was rich.
But how could Mangle, that shitty, stupid fox slut that was fat as hell and-
(Please stand by)
10 minutes later...
Ok, she may have gotten a teensy tiny bit heated there, but she was back from her Mangle bashing trance. She did a mental check of all she had.
Knife?-Check
Black sneaky outfit?-Check
Mangle hatred?-thousand checks
Psychological problems + static feeling-Musta forgot them home… not!
She ran through the night to her destination, treacherous deeds in mind…
(…)
She had finally reached the Watt Manor, for that is what she'll call it from now on.
She put her foot out to step on the lawn…. To almost set off a tripwire.
She pulled her foot away at the last centimeter, and somehow kept her balance.
Maybe those gymnastic classes would come in handy here (Me not knowing a thing about gymnastics and internets out: …..Welp, imma make a fool outta myself today.)
She backflipped of it, did a handstand, and saw there where tripwires all over the lawn. What the literal hell?! How do these people walk around all day!? She backflipped and hanstanded and frontflipped and cartwheeled throughout the lawn, until she reached the front door. She hoped in all seriousness that a random passerby wouldn't see her and call the police.
Anyway, TC looked at the front door and though; 'Oh fuck no. Not setting off any alarms today.'
She looked around, remembering that Foxy said they kept a door unlocked somewhere, just in case Mangle needed to get in and didn't have her keys. Or her left eyeball. Jeez, you need to fucking have an eyeball scan after unlocking the door. That's parinoia, if she's ever seen it.
She finally caught sight of a door that looked safe. She had went around back. 'Of course, the backdoor. Its always the backdoor.' The lock wasn't in the locked position. She opened it.
There were thankfully no eyeball scans. Guess maybe she might be too tired for a scan one day.
TC slipped inside, and left the door slightly open. Better safe than sorry, after all. Or in this case, better safe than caught because she had to open the door.
She pulled a small flashlight from her pocket, not exactly pocket keychain style, but also not big-bulky-1000-mega-watt (ha) flashlight. More of in the middle of pocket keychain and a regular flashlight. It was small, but it had a lot of light and was spread across a wide area.
She flashed it in front of her, and groaned. 'FUCKING LASERS?! Just how rich is she?!' There was a feild of alarm lasers in her path. And when she says feild, she means feid. There were at least 60 of those little shits, and they were bounced by mirrors at least a dozen times. 'So that made…' she started to do the math in her head. '...720. Oh, I'm fucked. Utterly fucked. Absolutely fucked. 100% fucked over.' She couldn't believe those numbers. WHO DOES THIS?! TC gets having protection, but this? This isn't protection for a house. This is protection for a 21st century castle. Full damn sized. With a king and a queen and 15 princes and princess's and 60 brother-in-laws and sister-in-laws and mother-in-laws, ect. This is too insane for her. A theif would just give up. A sane theif, that is. But she's unfortanitly not sane. She looked ahead with a stricken expression and a twitching in her left-eyelid. And she used her gymnastic training.
Soon she found herself in a horrible position. She was doing a one-handed handstand with one leg braced against the wall, another arched to avoid laser detection, and her hand directly in front of her. She slowly looked around, her hair burning slightly from- wait. Their fucking kidding her. These are the real deal. Not some flimsy 'detection lasers'. No. These are real lasers with burning properties. She suddenly feels a pang of sympathy for Mangle. Having to live in a house that almost reaches castle status, has millions of security procedures, all alone. With only parents that are busy all the time, and a baby sister that is only a toddler. That must be hard.
She banishes those thoughts away, overcomming them with her hatred for Mangle. She had to hate Mangle. Or else she would succumb to guilt and other things. She just could not do that.
She looked to her side, a bit more of her hair burning off, and saw a button. 'That must be the deactivation button. If I could just reach it…' She moved her arm ever so slowly, and managed to reach the button. TC pressed it, and the lasers faded out. She collapsed to the ground, with a loud 'thump'. She got up, pulling her knife out. She waited to see if anybody would come out about the noise, but nobody came.
She wandered the house. She came upon the kitchen, and decided that she might as well take some food. She hadn't eaten, after all. She took some leftover Italian from the HUGE fridge and that was that. She also grabbed some duct tape.
TC came upon Mangles room. She watched sleeping quietly, and had an urge to stab her. To just slit her neck, stab her heart, puncture a lung, anything that would hurt or kill her. She resisted the urge. She had a plan. She was going to follow the plan. No matter what. She was going to follow the plan. She closed her door quietly.
She came upon Jenny's room, at last. TC looked at her, sleeping, and felt an urge she didn't recognize. She pushed it away before she could study it further. She walked into the room, ripped off a piece of duct tape, and shoved it upon Jennys mouth.
Jenny woke up, her eyes wide. She tried to scream, but could only make a muffled mumble. TC picked her up, and ran out the front door. She stabbed her knife into the eye scan, and opened the door, alarms blaring. She ran and ran.
The lights blinded her, The alarms sounding. She ran, Jenny squirming and crying in her arms. She ran until her calves felt like rubber and her feet like lead. She knew it wasn't over. She took a big risk, possibly her last.
Mangle looked out of the window, slipping into a bathrobe. She saw Jennys white-ish-pink hair, and screamed. She ran outside.
By the time she got outside, the intruder was gone. Jenny was gone with them. She wanted to scream, to cry, to throw herself upon the ground and sink into a hole. She had failed the one job her parents had given her: "Protect your sister." She failed that, And was facing the consequences for her failure.
TC felt giddy. She had done what she needed to do. There had been time to slip a note, and she had slipped it into the kitchen. She had succeeded in her mission. She accomplished what she set out to do.
When she got home, she shoved Jenny into the basement, and went to check on Foxy. She couldn't find him anywhere. She panicked. He must have somehow escaped. That meant police. That meant getting caught. That meant jail. Or at least juvie. That would down her popularity by far. She had to get ready.
She shoved her swirling storm of fears and anxiety down, and went to work preparing for the police.
AN: Hey y'all! This is done! I am sooooooooooo sorry that I made you wait so long! This will be posted the day after I wrote it, with the necessary spelling checks of course. I already have an idea of how its gonna end, and what the next book will be about. First of all, This book will be changed to the title: 'Springtrap, Private Eye. Case 1: Popular Putdown'. I will have this here a week or so, before I post the name. Though, there is no point in me doing this, since I am ending this in like, the next chapter or so. Things have gone on far too long. TC's rein shall be put to an end, or should I say reined in? Anyway, secondly, The next fanfic in this series (Can't call it a Trilogy unless there's three) Will be called: 'Springtrap, Private Eye. Case 2: Liar, Liar'. If anybody wants to know why I chose the words 'Liar, Liar', then I shall have to ask you a question. Do you know what One of Us Lying is? If you do, this will make sense. A lot of sense. It is based off that book.
Since I have reached all my points, Time to do a dramatic outro.
As Always...
...Stay Salty Y'all.