A/N: I hoped to have this up by Halloween, but it ended up being longer than anticipated. Once again, to my anxious readers, many thanks for the patience. Unfortunately, life isn't what it was when I started this story back in June. But don't worry, we're approaching the end soon (I reckon sixteen chapters or so), so even with my delayed updates, I hope to have this story wrapped up by the end of the year. That said, enjoy!

"How far did he go?" Jessica asked as the three of them continued trailing Sam's muddy footprints through the foliage.

"I don't know," said Kyle, gaining more hope with each step, "but apparently he's found something he was interested in."

"You think?" asked Jessica.

"I wouldn't go this far after an injury like that if I didn't have a good reason," Kyle explained, "and neither would he."

"It seems he can't be that injured, then," John added, looking to Jessica. She nodded.

"I guess not. We just have to catch up to him."

They continued walking, keeping tabs on the mud tracks as they shifted and turned. After about thirty minutes, Jessica groaned.

"You alright?" John asked her.

"I'm not used to walking this much," she said, bending down to rub her ankle. "My feet are killing me!"

"Join the club," announced Kyle with a small scoff as they kept walking deeper into the foliage.

"John," Jessica whispered loud enough for only him to hear.

"Yeah?"

"Is this reminding you of anything?"

"What?"

"Wandering through the forest looking for a friend?"

He remembered. They had done this in the dead of night seven months ago with Clay as they had followed the Freddy's animatronics, which were presumably going after Charlie, and eventually ended up in Afton Robotics Inc. located directly under Charlie's house, likely not too far from their current location.*

"You think we're gonna find something related to Afton out here?"

She shuddered. "I hope not, but...don't you think it's a little deja vu?"

He shrugged. "I guess so. I didn't really think of it that much, though. I mean, Afton's gone for good now, right?"

She hesitated. "I hope so, but we've thought that before, haven't we?"

"Carlton said he was."

"I know, but Carlton also said he was in a bit of an altered state of reality at the moment."

"He wouldn't lie to us," John protested. "Not during a moment like that."

"I know he wouldn't, but how can he be so sure that Afton did actually die? I mean, we did think he died before."

That was true. It was just like in the movies. It seemed like Afton was the super bad guy who not only made people want to hate him but didn't seem to die when he was supposed to, either. He just kept surviving, and every time he did, there was more chaos involving missing children. It made him sick to think about. But still, being seized by his own creation, what he created in his attempt at immortality, and having it throw him into a burning inferno? That was tough to survive, even for him. No amount of skill or luck getting out of spring-locked death traps could help him there.

"You may be right," he told her, "but let's not jump to conclusions. We still need to find Sam."

She nodded.

"Hey, guys?" called Kyle from about twenty feet ahead of them. "Are either of you familiar with what radio station broadcasts from way out here?"

John and Jessica stopped moving and looked at each other, clearly confused.

"No. There are no radio stations way out here," John said.

Kyle shook his head and pointed. Through the trees, just visible between branches was an antenna looming in the distance.

Sam continued staring down the long dark hallway ahead of him. There was no light coming from anywhere except the windows directly behind him. The more he stared down the dark, menacing looking hallway, the more unease he felt.

Monsters, a voice inside him suddenly spoke. Spiders. Ghosts. Witches. Haunted house.

This isn't a haunted house, he argued back. It's just an abandoned building. I'm just trying to find Charlie.

As if on cue, a voice called out from down the hall.

"Sammy!" It was Charlie.

"Charlie?" he called back.

"Sammy! Over here!"

"Where?" he called, taking a step forward. "Where are you?"

"In here!"

About twenty feet ahead of him, a figure peered out of a doorway. The darkness obscured the fine details, but after squinting, he recognized her face.

"Charlie? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me, silly. Come on! Let's have some fun!" She disappeared into the doorway, giggling.

He ran forward toward the open doorway, away from the light. As he approached, he realized the hallway ahead of him had come to an abrupt end. From the front, it looked like it went on forever, but now he was facing a wall with two doors on either side, both leading into what appeared to be a dark room. He turned to where Charlie had disappeared and stepped inside carefully.

As soon as he set foot inside the room, lights immediately flickered on and the room adopted a dim blue hazy glow. A stereo somewhere also seemed to activate, because an eerie sound began emitting from overhead speakers.

"What is this?" he asked himself.

He looked around and noticed piles of boxes stacked into corners of the room. From the looks of it, it contained spare parts from animatronics. He walked over to one large box in the corner. Inside he saw what looked like two masks, a red fox mask and a light blue rabbit mask. Beneath it were a series of other masks, some playful and cheery, some looking more menacing, as if they were meant to be worn by employees to scare people. Another box nearby contained a mess of random animatronic parts cluttered together. Some looked like they were completely broken, others looked old and worn out, and others were completely new.

"What is all this?" he asked.

"It's a playhouse!" came Charlie's voice. He turned. Standing in another doorway across the room, a wide smile on her face, was Charlie.

"Charlie, this isn't my idea of fun!" he protested.

"Why not?" she asked, her voice oozing disappointment and even offense as her smile faltered.

"It's weird!" he said. "All these old animatronic parts and crazy-looking masks. It looks like some sick freak show haunted house or something! Why can't we just go somewhere else? Or just talk?"

"I've been waiting too long to see you again!" she protested, her smile and excitement suddenly returning as quickly as it had faded. "We can talk later! I want to make up for all the years we've spent apart!"

With another giggle, she turned and ran into the other room. Sam shook his head in bewilderment.

This doesn't sound like her, he thought. Everyone said she was usually pretty quiet and reserved. I would've thought she outgrew this stuff. I know I have!

"Come on, Sammy!" her voice called suddenly from the other room. "Don't be a scaredy-cat!"

Sam felt his stomach sink. "Scaredy-cat?" he said. "Who's she calling a scaredy-cat?" He ran through the doorway into another hallway. This time, he found himself facing three doors, each one branching off into another hallway.

"Are you kidding me?" he muttered. "It's a maze? I've never been good at mazes!"

He slowly approached the split, glancing back and forth between the doors. Which way should he go? He had no idea. Any one of them could lead practically anywhere. But which one did Charlie take? After some hesitation, he entered the middle door.

The room was slightly bigger than the previous, and slightly darker. Unlike the last room, it contained old arcade games. The entire perimeter was lined with arcade games stashed next to each other. It looked like he'd walked into an old gaming center. Either that, or an old pizzeria.

Carlton mentioned there were arcade games at Freddy's, he thought. There weren't any at Fredbear's, but Freddy's was different. Freddy's was newer, and...bigger.

The thought suddenly occurred to him. Was this another one of Henry's establishments? Had he, alone or with Afton, built another attraction in the middle of the woods?

But why a haunted house? Wasn't he already bothered enough with what already happened?

Sam walked over to one of the games. The console had two levers, one vertical and one horizontal, along with three buttons colored red, green, and blue. The console and screen were both covered with dust, but the game itself looked relatively new, like it had never been touched before. He jiggled the levers and pressed the buttons. Nothing happened.

"So much for this," he said, turning to examine some of the other games, all of which gave similar results. It was a shame. Some of the games he was familiar with from the arcades back at home. He even saw his favorite of all: Pacman. He loved Pacman, especially when he ate the invincibility power-ups so he could turn the tables on the ghosts. Unfortunately, it was also powerless. With a sigh, he continued.

He made his way to about halfway through the games when something caught his attention. From the doorway to the next room came another noise, but it wasn't Charlie. It didn't even sound like a voice. It almost sounded like a wolf's growl, only lower and much more menacing. He stood motionless, paralyzed with fear, as he stood watching the door, not saying a word. Then, as if whatever it was sensed his attention, it stopped.

"H-hello?" he called, his voice suddenly dry and weak. "Who's there?"

No answer.

"Charlie? Where are you? Are you there?"

No answer. With every muscle in his body protesting, he slowly began moving toward the doorway from which the unsettling growling had come. When he finally saw inside, he noticed nothing but more boxes full of spare parts.

"H-hello?" he called again.

"Hello?"

Sam jumped. It was a voice, but a little boy's voice, one who was a few years old probably. He looked around but saw no one.

"Hi!"

There it was again, this time a little louder. Sam continued glancing around nervously, looking for any sign of life as he finally took a step forward. The room suddenly felt very stale, and the nauseating feeling suddenly returned as his injured brain began protesting.

A laugh suddenly echoed from directly to his right. He turned and found himself face-to-face with a small boy standing only a few feet tall.

"Hello?" Sam asked. "Are you ok?"

The boy didn't move, but the flickering light revealed that it wasn't a real boy, but rather an animatronic. It looked relatively new, and sounded new as well, but it was blackened, as if it had been burned.

Sam was about to take a step closer when, in a flash of blinding light, the boy lunged at him, screaming a loud, metallic-sounding shriek. Losing his balance, Sam fell backward onto the ground, reaching up to cover his head.

"Daddy, is it going to get me?"

"No, Charlie. It's just a tree. It won't bother you."

They were leaving Fredbear's for the night. It was nearly eleven at night. Henry had to stay behind to take care of some things and their mother and Aunt Jen were busy. Sam and Charlie were both very tired, but the tree out front was enough to keep Charlie awake and alert.

"I don't like the branches! It looks like it has arms."

"They're just branches, Charlie," he told his sister. "They're not alive."

She looked at him with wide eyes that narrowed slightly in anger.

"They move!" she cried. "They always move whenever we go by!"

"That's the wind, honey," Henry told them, trying to hurry them along through the night toward the car. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I'm scared, Daddy!" she whined, starting to cry. Henry let go of Sam's hand and bent down to comfort and hug his sister.

Sam looked back at the tree. Come to think of it, it did look creepy. He used to be a little scared of it, too, until he realized that it never actually did anything to hurt them. In fact, it didn't even look alive that much when he really studied it. It was just an old, bent tree.

He turned back to Henry and Charlie, only to discover to his horror that they weren't there. He looked around and saw that they were nowhere to be found. The wind picked up drastically, making the entire tree sway back and forth with unsettling creaking noises. He turned back to it. It looked like it was waving at him in the wind, which he did not find very comforting given the circumstances. He took a step toward it and placed a small hand onto the bark. It felt rough and broken. He moved his hand across the trunk. Maybe it was trying to tell him something. Maybe Charlie was right and this tree was alive, but was trying to actually help him. What if it was trying to point him in the direction in which they had hurried off.

The train of thought was interrupted as a black, matted hand emerged from around the tree and grabbed his hand, crushing it in its grasp. Sam screamed and tried vainly to pull his arm away as a head emerged from around the tree. It was that black figure with piercing white eyes and a smile more crooked than a road on a mountain. He felt a warm breath on his face as he saw the smile widen to reveal canine teeth and a protruding snout. Sam screamed and looked away, trying vainly to pull himself away as he heard the creature snarl menacingly.

His eyes shot open as alarm bells blared all around him. A blinding red light was flashing, forcing him to squint as he slowly picked himself up off of the cold hard floor. The animatronic boy was gone.

"What is going on?" he said as he finally got back to his feet. "What was that?"

"Sammy!" It was Charlie's voice again, coming from further down the corridor ahead. "Come on! This is fun!"

"Charlie, stop!" he cried as he began moving with a purpose toward the next room.

"Are you crazy?" Jessica cried as the three of them stood in the small clearing, gazing at the building ahead of them. "I'm not going in there!"

"Yeah," John agreed. "Sorry, Kyle. We've been inside enough abandoned places for my liking recently, and every time, someone usually gets hurt."

"This is where Sam's footprints lead," Kyle pointed out, still visually following the fading yet visible mud tracks leading toward the building. "Come on. We're here to find him, aren't we?"

He gestured them to follow and began walking toward the building, John and Jessica reluctantly behind him. As they drew closer to the building, they noticed that it looked old and abandoned, yet still structurally sound.

"What is this place?" Jessica asked, still wary about their decision.

John only shook his head. He was as confused as she was. The furthest he'd ever gone into the wooded area was Charlie's house, and even then, he'd never traveled far. The closest they got to the woods was the day he went home with a supposedly injured nose after bumping it against her. It was such a distant memory that he still remembered clearly. What boy wouldn't remember the day he almost kissed a girl he liked?**

Jessica grunted as she almost lost her footing in the mud. She looked down at herself in pain.

"You okay?" he asked.

"No!" she said sharply. "These shoes were brand new!"

John groaned. Classic Jessica.

When they reached the door, John stepped ahead of them and peered through the window.

"It's empty," he announced.

"So let's get outta here," said Jessica, nearly frantic at this point. "I don't want to hang around here."

"Jessica, it's an abandoned building. It's not like this is another one of Afton's places."

"You don't know that," she said. "Knowing that maniac, I wouldn't put it past him. Besides, it still feels creepy, like there's an odd sense of something familiar, and bad, about this place."

"Jessica…"

"Don't you feel it, John?"

He paused. She was right. There was a certain heaviness in the air. At first, he thought it was mainly the humidity caused by the heat and rain, but here, it felt stronger. It felt disorienting, and it even had a sense of being alive and vibrant. His brain was beginning to feel the pulses of it and he could detect the slightest hum in the air as his stomach began to quiver.

"Yeah. It feels familiar. To be honest, it kind of reminds me of...well, you know…"

"John!" Jessica whispered in a panic. "Do you think that she's here?"

"The other Charlie?" John guess, which she confirmed with a nod. "I don't know. I hope not."

"You said you saw Charlie, though."

"Yeah, I did. I'm not crazy, Jessica! I saw her clear as day! I spoke to her!"

"I'm not saying you're crazy, John, but if you're right, and Charlie is somehow still here…"

She trailed off, and John knew where she was going. What if her doppelganger is still here too?

"Over there!" Kyle called, pointing again. They looked and saw more footprints leading around the building. "He went that way!"

"Are you sure?" Jessica asked. "I mean, no offense, but are we positive we're following his footprints?"

"We have to be!" Kyle insisted, the sudden force in his voice startling her. "I mean, these are the only footprints between here and the car. They have to be his! Come on!"

Without another word, he bounded along the side of the building where the prints led. John and Jessica exchanged confused and worried looks before hurrying after him.

"So Kyle," John said as they began their trek around the edge of the building. "If you don't mind me asking, did you really mean what you said last night?"

"About what?" Kyle asked.

"When you said you felt unworthy of Sam's friendship, that he was probably the one thing that kept you out of jail. Is that true?"

Kyle stopped and turned to him. Although John hadn't previously had any strong connection with Kyle like he had with Sam, he took note of the sudden detectable look of guilt in his eyes.

Kyle scoffed and shook his head, though John was unsure exactly why.

"Well, as far as the jail part is concerned, that might have been just my parents talking. They always liked Sam and talked about him quite a bit whenever my 'questionable' behavior came up. But yes, it is true that I don't really feel like I'm a good friend to him."

"Why?" John asked, curiosity suddenly spiking. It was weird. He always had been the curious type, but he never really thought of himself as being an interrogator of sorts. Still, after a heartbreaking and angering revelation concerning the truth about his best friend and a month of isolation, the sudden appearance of Sam sparked something in him, something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope. He was suddenly gripped by a new sense of injustice, one that came with a glimpse of hope that it may be okay in the end, and he wanted to help make that happen if he could.

Kyle stopped moving. John could tell that he had shut his eyes. He stood there, motionless, not saying a word.

"Kyle?"

Kyle sighed and turned to him. "Let's just say there was an...incident...a few years back." Their interested faces prompted him to continue. He sighed again, more heavily. "I got myself into a pretty bad mess, one that Sam said he wanted no part of, yet in the end, he still came through for me. We both got into a lot of trouble. You've seen how his mom is. I didn't think I'd ever be allowed to see him again, and even when I did he admitted to me that he has no idea sometimes why he's stuck with me all these years. Time passed, and we ended up moving on from the whole thing, and things slowly got back to normal, but what he said really stuck with me since. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to find him. I heard you two talking on the plane, and I agree. I should've said something last night, too, but I didn't. As his friend, I should've been there for him, but I wasn't. This is my fault more than anyone else's. If something happens to him, I'll never forgive myself, not after he was there for me. We have to find him."

When he stopped speaking, he stared at them for a few moments before turning and walking along the side of the building. John turned to Jessica.

"I had no idea," she whispered.

"Neither did I," he said. "We'll find him. He has to be close. There aren't that many other places he could be out here."

She looked unmoved and still clearly nervous and unsure, but as she stared into his eyes, she nodded. She still had doubts about going in there, but she didn't want to argue.

"Sam?" came Kyle's voice from ahead. They both turned to see that he had stopped.

"What is it, Kyle?" Jessica asked as she and John walked up to him. Kyle pointed, and she gasped.

Ahead of them, about twenty feet with his back turned to them was none other than Sam.

"Sam!" Kyle called.

He kept walking as if he didn't hear.

"Sam, it's us! Come on, man!" Kyle said a little more desperate as he took a step forward.

"Sam!" Jessica called.

He stopped walking, continuing to stare ahead of him with his back to them, not moving an inch.

"Sam?" called John.

He finally turned and looked back at them. "Hey guys," he said with a smile.

Jessica made a small noise of bewilderment. John said nothing. Kyle's jaw began moving up and down like he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words.

"It's alright, guys," Sam said, laughing slightly. "I'm okay. I'm sorry I left like that. I just needed to find Charlie. And guess what? I found her!"

The silence continued among the three of them as they tried their best to register what had just been said.

"You-you did?" Jessica asked, still dumbfounded but with a glimmer of hope in her voice. Was Charlie still alive? And was she really nearby? Would they finally meet up again?

"Yeah!" Sam insisted. "She's inside. Come on. I'll show you." He turned and began walking down the edge of the building again.

None of them moved. Were they seeing correctly? Sam had found Charlie? Could it be? But then again, how convenient of a change of events, and unusual.

Finally, Kyle broke the silence and voiced what they all were thinking.

"That's...weird."

"Yeah," Jessica agreed. "I didn't expect him to actually be here, or to have found Charlie. You think we should follow him? I'm still nervous about this place."

"Might as well," said Kyle, who began walking again without another word. As they reluctantly followed, Jessica turned to John again.

"Is this really happening, John?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "Honestly, I have no idea what's happening."

After a few minutes, they rounded another corner to find a vent in the side of the building with the grating removed and lying in the dirt with the same footprints leading inside.

"No!" Jessica said. "This is it. I'm not going in there!"

"Sam's in there!" Kyle insisted.

"I know, but like I said, I've been through enough exploring for a lifetime. Besides, who leaves a vent open like this? I'm done. You can go in, but I think I'd rather wait out here."

Kyle looked at John, who only shook his head.

"Jessica…"

"No! I'm done! You two can go if you want, but I'm staying put!"

John looked back at Kyle, who finally grunted.

"Ok, then." He turned and crawled on his knees inside.

"You sure you'll be okay out here?" John asked. Jessica nodded vigorously. John sighed and followed Kyle inside. He emerged in a small closet, by the looks of it. As he stood up, he was immediately struck by a damp smell. It was more than just a dusty closet. It almost smelled like rotting flesh. Glancing around, he saw boxes stacked on shelves that were filled with old masks and animatronic parts. He walked over to one of them and pulled a mask out. It was a fox mask. Nothing like the face of the actual animatronic, but a younger, more kid-friendly version. It was a mix between hot-red and dark pink with a snout that extended about six inches out.

These look familiar, John thought to himself. They look like…

He thought back. Where had he seen these before? Could they have Halloween masks? He pondered, studying the light, plastic features of the mask. It did seem familiar, its smooth and once-shiny surface. And then he remembered. His first grade teacher brought in a box of them, telling him and his excited classmates that they had been crafted and donated to the school for Halloween by Charlie's father. He turned to her seating a few seats over, and she beamed at him and puffed out her chest a little in pride as the rest of the class turned to look at her in envy as well. It really paid to be the child of the creator of every child's favorite local restaurant. At least it did at the time.

"Hey!"

John turned to see Kyle standing in the doorway.

"You comin'?"

"Yeah, I was just looking at the-"

"The creepy mask. Yeah, I know. Just put it down and let's keep moving," he said somewhat harshly as he disappeared into the hallway.

What's his problem? John thought as he set the mask down. Does he not like animatronics?

He followed Kyle into the hallway. They were standing just inside the front door with a split in directions. One direction appeared to be a hallway while the other led to a small corridor that looked like it held offices.

"Which way, do you reckon?" Kyle asked.

"I have no idea," said John. "He could've gone anywhere."

"You think he really found Charlie?" Kyle turned to him, his eyes reflecting the dimming light coming through the door near them.

John didn't answer but only shook his head. Even after a month of trying to figure it out, it still made no sense. How had Charlie appeared to him? He remembered staring at her absolutely dumbfounded, which made her giggle and him blush. And when she kissed him...she touched him. How could someone so real and clearly alive suddenly vanish without a trace the way she did? He wasn't crazy. Even throughout all of his long days of isolation and depression, he'd always countered his hope with reality to avoid his hopes from being dashed, which turned out to be a smart move against Charlie's lookalike. He wasn't crazy. Even after a month, he couldn't shake a strong, inexplicable feeling that Charlie was somehow alive. She was somehow okay. However, what was going on now was a different story. He was no less at a loss than Kyle was.

"Let's go this way," Kyle said, pointing toward the offices. "Maybe he went in there?"

John shrugged and followed Kyle over to one of the doors.

"Locked," said Kyle as he fought with the handle. "What about the other doors?"

John walked over and tried them all with no better luck.

Kyle sighed. "Well, I was hoping I would never have to do this."

Before John could turn to say anything, he heard a loud crash. He turned to see Kyle removed his elbow from the small pane of glass near the door and reach inside.

"You broke in?" John asked, surprised.

"Hey, if this place really is abandoned, no one's gonna care," he said as he unlocked the door from the inside and pulled it open. "Come on. This looks like an office. Maybe we could find something useful like a flashlight in here."

The office was rather small, being about the size of an apartment bedroom, but it was still slightly bigger than the office at Freddy, John figured, even though he was hardly ever in there. On the desk were a few small black panels and along the walls were some filing cabinets There was also a vent in the corner which seemed to be providing a small stream of air from somewhere, probably outside.

"Wow, it's damp in here," said Kyle, walking over to the desk. "Too bad there aren't any windows to open. We could use it." He sat down and started fiddling with the panels. "What are these?"

John walked over to one of the filing cabinets and opened it. It was about half full. He pulled out and opened a file. It looked like a list of supplies for the building. Lights, speakers, machine parts. Typical equipment for a new building of operation. If this place was ever even used, John thought, glancing around. Despite showing some signs of age, the building still had a certain look of freshness to it, one that reflected its lack of public visitors. Seriously, what is this place supposed to be?

"What are you doing?" Kyle asked.

"Investigating," he said simply, continuing to read the file. "Charlie and I used to do this a lot. We liked to believe we were a research team dedicated to finding answers to certain mysteries." He chuckled. "I remember even as kids, we liked investigating things like why the vent in the kitchen at Freddy's was making a certain noise, or why the underside of the tables smelled like manure, or-" He stopped, glancing at Kyle, who was staring back at him. John realized that he had started rambling. "I'm investigating," he said. "Trying to find out what kind of place this is."

Kyle raised his eyebrows but turned his attention back to the mysterious panels on the desk. These look like they're supposed to move... he thought, trying to claw his finger beneath the panels. ...but they won't budge.

John replaced the file and pulled out another one. This one contained schematics of some kind. There were drawings and sketches along with notes. John began flipping through the pages.

Finally, Kyle gave up trying to pry the panel out of the desk and slammed his fist down onto the desk. With a loud click, both panels extended themselves up out of the desk a few inches. The lights in the room and hallway right outside also flickered on with a hum. The panels lit up to reveal option menus.

"Whoa. Do you see this?" Kyle asked, turning back to John. But John was apparently so focused on whatever he was reading that he didn't seem to notice anything. Kyle shrugged and turned back to the panels. One of them contained four options: audio reset, video reset, ventilation reset, and reboot all. The other panel contained two options: begin and power down. Kyle pressed the begin option on the screen, which then revealed the entrance hallways where they had just been minutes before. It was a camera system. "Wow," he said, as he began cycling through the cameras via the buttons on the bottom. There was an auditorium-looking room, a closet, other rooms that contained various equipment.

"Dude, this place is really creepy," said Kyle, half intrigued, half scared as he continued cycling through the cameras. "Do you see this?"

John still didn't respond. He continued reading the document he had in his hand. Kyle shrugged, turning back to the monitors once more. Let him investigate, he told himself. It's what he wants to do.

As he continued cycling through the cameras, one image caught his attention. He began messing with some of the levers beneath the buttons. Sure enough, they adjusted the camera. He zoomed in on what looked like an endoskeleton of an animatronic. "What is that?" he whispered, studying it. It appeared to be the lifeless corpse of an animatronic from Freddy's based on the descriptions he heard. But there was no skin or anything. It simply looked like it a shell of something that formerly gave laughter to children, but was now turned off and lifeless. As he examined the skull, trying to determine what kind of animal it might have been, it suddenly jerked its head up and looked straight at him, its eyes glowing a bright yellow. Kyle gasped and leapt away from the desk in the chair, turning away and burying his face in his hands. This is exactly why he hated animatronics! To him, this was all they ever did, scare people. There was never any joy that came from them,

"Are you kidding me?" he heard John say in disbelief. After a few moments, he finally regained his composure and looked back at the monitor, ready to face this creature in a staring match.

But it was gone. Were it had sat only seconds before was now an empty space of tile floor.

"But-" he stammered, pointing a finger at the monitor, absolutely dumbfounded. "But it was- Where did it-? John, did you see-?"

Suddenly, an open folder was dropped onto the desk in front of him. He looked up at John, who met his gaze with determination.

"Read that."

"Charlie?" Sam called as he entered the next hallway. It was a narrow corridor with not much elbow room. Great. It's like another closet, he thought bitterly as he moved slowly down the corridor. A light flickered above him as he pushed himself through. A hanging extension cord that wasn't plugged into anything nudged his bad arm, and despite its light weight, it was enough to remind him of his injuries.

"Charlie?" he called again. "Where are you?"

He stopped moving, listening intently for any sign of life in the dark abandoned corridor. He stood silently waiting for anything to catch his attention, be it Charlie's voice urging him to follow her once more or for the laughing of the animatronic boy. Yet nothing came. The place had suddenly gone silent. Even the dim light above him flickered and died. For a moment, Sam had the fleeting thought that maybe the building had lost power.

Come to think of it, how does a building way out in the woods even have power at all? he thought. There must be some kind of generator.

He continued standing in silence, not moving a muscle. The density of the darkness was suddenly beginning to overwhelm him. He could hardly make out the silhouette of his hand as he lifted it in front of his face. The only sound to be heard was the faint humming of some machine working as its waves pulsated through the walls and air. Sam grabbed his head. His brain was protesting as the pulses began rocking it in its cradle inside his skull.

A whistling echoed through the hallway. Sam's heart jumped as he turned his toward the direction of the noise ahead. Was someone else in here? Maybe they could help. He continued moving down the hallway as the light began flickering again briefly illuminating the ground in front of him. The whistling seemed to be coming from an upcoming room on the left. As he drew closer to the door, he recognized the tune as the Toreadors march. His mind began racing as he finally reached the door and placed his ear on it. Whoever was on the other side of the door was working on something, by the sound of it. He hesitated. Maybe it was better not to interrupt them. After all, they were out in the middle of nowhere, where people typically didn't want to be found. But still, it was worth a try. He turned the knob, which felt like ice in his grasp, and slowly pushed the door open with a loud creak. The whistling never ceased.

The room was enclosed, most likely a side room, with a small platform which looked eerily like a stage on the far side. There also appeared to be a workshop area in the corner across from the door, where a single light illuminating someone working. Sam slowly approached the figure, whose back was turned as it continued whistling and working.

"Excuse me?" Sam asked shyly. "Do you know where I am?"

The whistling stopped, as did the movement. For a few seconds, the figure was still, then it turned slowly to face him.

Sam nearly screamed, but his sudden shortness of breath prevented him from doing so. Staring back at him was a familiar yet disfigured face. It was a man wearing a green, thin flannel shirt, only it was torn and covered with mud and even what looked like patches of blood. His pants were also torn and dirty. What was most unsettling was the face. Beneath the mess of unkempt brown hair were the most dangerous piercing brown eyes Sam had ever seen, which almost looked red as the clear fury in them revealed itself. Beneath the eyes was a mouth twisted into a scowl.

And then it spoke in a familiar voice:

"Get away."

Get away? From what? Sam thought desperately, taking steps backwards as he held the frightening gaze ahead of him, terrified of turning his back on it. When he bumped into something behind him, he reluctantly shifted his eyes to whatever it was behind him, hopefully, the door. Instead, it was a fox, towering over him and blackened like ash. Before he had the chance to take another step away from the creature, it pounced at him, screaming that horrible metallic sound that sent him to the ground once more.

He held a quivering hand to his face where he had been struck as he looked up at his father towering over him, and a furious expression on his face.

"How many times have I told you?" he growled viciously, "Stay away from this and do...not...ever...touch...it."

Sam's eyes watered as he looked at the contraption on the desk, a small doll-sized robot with the completed face of a young girl. It looked so friendly and so different from his usual designs.

"Daddy, I-"

"No, I don't want to hear it," his father said, turning his back on him on the ground. "Just leave me alone."

Unable to hold it in any longer, Sam got to his feet and raced into his mother's arms, sobbing into her side. While she held him tightly and quieted his tears, she glared at the man before her.

"Henry…"

"Leave me," he told her, closing the door to his work shed. Sam looked from the closed door to his mother, who only looked down at him with tears in her eyes as well.

"Come on," she told him, pulling him toward the house. "We're leaving for a little bit."

"Where are we going?" he asked as he tried to keep up with the force on his arm.

"To visit your Aunt Jen," she told him as they entered the house.

"What about Charlie? Is she coming?" He hadn't even seen her in a while.

His mother gave no answer. She only continued pulling him into his and Charlie's empty bedroom.

"Warning. Ventilation offline."

Sam found himself staring once more at the ceiling with loud alarms blaring throughout the room and flashing red lights flickering on and off. After about fifteen seconds, they stopped, but the computerized voice repeated its warning.

"Warning. Ventilation offline."

Sam pulled himself onto his feet, finding himself even weaker than he already was. Once his vision fully returned, he noticed that the room was empty aside from the stage. The fox, the man, and even the workbench were gone like they were never there to begin with.

"Am I going crazy?" Sam asked himself. "What is this place? It's not like any haunted house I've ever been to."

Unwilling to remain in the room for another moment, he turned and strode towards the door in which he'd entered. As he approached, his hand inches from the handle, he heard the faint footsteps of something big coming down the hallway outside, its breathing thin and raspy. As it drew closer, Sam could hear a low voice say in almost a whisper:

"Where are you?"

REFERENCES:

*The Twisted Ones, p. 219-222

**The Silver Eyes, p. 92-94