See the end for author's notes.

"There's a place in the dark,
Horror stories go to hide…"

Chapter 9. Keep Looking Over Your Shoulder

Sometime Before,

Mike Schmidt pushed aside the silky, star speckled curtain. He lowered his flashlight politely.

"Foxy?" No answer. "You in here, Captain?"

The night guard's expression scrunched up in concentration, and his eyes glowed briefly, the yellow light casting a warm, faint glow. He spied the section of a curled, stringy and frayed tail and huffed in tired relief.

"Foxy…"

Mike rolled his eyes and hopped up onto the stage.

"Foxy...come on out. You can't hide here forever. This isn't even your Cove." Schmidt sauntered in, grinning as he eyed the tattered animatronic stubbornly sulking in the corner.

"S'not fair. S'even bigger than mine is, lad." Foxy grouched, gesturing moodily with his hook at the chrome walls. "And that fool replacement don't even appreciate it none…"

"But way less cool." Mike assured, chuckling at Foxy's eager glance at him.

"Ye think so?"

"I know so." The night guard pocketed the cracked flashlight and walked over to clap Foxy's torn shoulder affectionately. "Besides, he never gets to even use this space, remember? They get rented out to parties."

Foxy seemed to relax, and he dogged Mike's steps all the way to the stage. Their comfortable silence followed them halfway across the party room, Mike's flashlight trained ahead of them so they didn't trip-or he didn't set off Foxy's sensitive optics by accident.

"Think this'll work, lad?" the pirate fox broached quietly, as if he thought they were being spied on. "She sure seemed mighty...intense about this whole thing."

"Circ is just scared, Foxy. I would be too, stuck down here by myself all this long."

"That'd never happen, though, Mike. Ye know it wouldn't." The old Captain bristled, snapping his jaws in reflexive anger and possessiveness.

"Of course it wouldn't, buddy," Mike soothed, reaching up to pat the fox's matted shoulder. "You guys would never leave me behind, I know that. It's just…"

"...jus'what, lad? Lot to take in?" Foxy said, taking a stab. "Thought ye'd be used to our little ghost stories by now an'all…"

Mike nodded, sighing wearily. He dug his free palm into an eye, rubbing viciously as he tried to keep the sleep from his mind and his bones.

"Imagine having to hold onto a secret that big for so long...and not having anyone listen?"

"What's worse, me ol'friend, that...or having someone listen and not give a damn?"

Mike's lips pressed into a flat line, and was silent, which was never good.

"We've been going in circles, Bonnie." Danny's exhaustion and anxiety made his tone dip down toward plain old whining. Thankfully, Bonnie whined a fair bit himself. He didn't seem bothered by Danny's tone, or the way he was chewing on a fingernail as he fumbled around in the dimly light hall. Overhead, lights buzzed dully and flickered every so often. It wasn't really helping his remaining nerves, but it was certainly adding to the ambiance.

"Weird...I mean, you're right. Just...weird. My mapping system keeps cycling. Man. Guess I'm glitching worse than I thought."

"Where did Mike want us to go?" Danny bemoaned, patting the cracked flashlight on his hip self-consciously. "There's nowhere to go! This is just a dead end but it won't end…"

Indeed, the hall seemed to stretch on for an eternity or two. It was impossible, and it was starting to get unsettling. At this point, Danny would almost welcome Funtime Freddy or Ballora to show up, so long as they had somewhere to run and hide, at least they weren't alone down here.

At loss for a better plan, Bonnie turned on his optics high beams and swept them around with an idea in mind. The hall was dark, and long and narrow, more than ever. More importantly it was empty, and not a soul was around. Any doors they encountered were sealed shut. Some didn't even had knobs, just the outline and hinges of a door. That creeped even Bonnie out, though he kept it to himself for his kid's sake. His optics caught a slash of blue marker and locked on to it, the bunny's ears perking up in delight when he recognized the hand writing.

"Hey dude, check this out." Bonnie's paw gestured toward the section of paneling. "C'mon, read this."

Though revenge should be sweet, jealous acts will end in defeat. -M

Below that, an arrow pointed right, then another arrow was drawn up in a ziz-zaging shape, as if the writer was scrabbling and had to move before something happened to them.

"...up? Where does he expect us to go? Up—as in the elevator?" Danny hesitated, frowning worriedly. "But we're nowhere near the elevator. And even if we were, I don't think you could get to it. I'm not even sure how Springtrap got to where he was, come to think of it…"

"...Dunno." The bunnybot shrugged, flicking off his lights. "That arrow looks funny though. Maybe...stairs? And we just go up 'em." Which implied there was still a below, if Mike had to remind them to use a certain direction. How deep did this place go?

"Could be." Danny said.

They walked in the direction of the arrow, both keeping their eyes peeled for any hint as to where one would hide a set of stairs.

One of the one-way doors opened, a tiny little paw gripping the sheet of metal tightly so it didn't slam and alert them.

She was so very comfy, curled up under herself and tangled sleepily around the warm, still body resting with her.

There was some noise going on a while ago, far in the distance. Screams, thuds, but then it all ended so abruptly even she felt rattled. Strange. However, these noises were good ones-it meant things were going according to his plans. And she wasn't about to leave her post, either. Nothing less than a fire would have moved her.

The room was dark, perfect for napping and for her sensitive, weak optics that functioned on separate heads. The main source of light was a weak icy blue light of a little laptop somewhere to her left, but that wasn't a problem for her. Her motors and gears whirled, blocking out most other sounds that the laptop's tiredly chugging fan wasn't already covering. All was peace, and quiet.

Don't get her wrong, she adored and missed her little small ones! Their pleasant laughter, their wide eyes of delight when they took her apart and put her together in such uninhibited, creative ways. She didn't even mind their sticky little hands, though she was eternally grateful that she was plastic, and not fur covered like other models she knew. That would have made free Sundae day a bit of a hassle, really.

But after thirty some years of the noise and ruckus and work, a little nap here and there was a luxury, and she held tightly to any chance to simply relax her systems and exist for a while.

Her minor head-a tiny blocky little thing with dull square teeth-was half open, gazing tiredly at the door. When she was resting, her optics blinked independently of each other. She could afford a bit of relaxation to keep her batteries at a decent level. They were safe. Of that she was almost positive. And besides! Plenty of alarms that would go off if someone-or something--approached the door or the two vents that lead to this one, tiny little room. Everyone and everything was accounted for, at least as much as could be accounted for.

Now they had to play the waiting game.

Movement underneath her, subtle but weak. This was a good sign, and she quickly coiled herself up and out of the way of the groggy limb, shoving her head up against a bony chest to listen for that tell-tale sound. ...well, faint but...something was beating in there. Oh, two somethings, now she heard it! An arm that was skinny but heavy from exhaustion slipped from one section of her, followed by a low groan of discomfort, perhaps pain.

Poor thing. She weighed her options and then leaned in, nuzzling close to the thin frame, so much shorter than her own, undulating mass. Thanks to his efforts, she had reached a whopping twenty and some change feet, and while she had plenty of parts that could still be removed or switched around, most of her was now solid, and connected for good. She was sturdy as hell now, albeit at risk when she stretched herself too far. Eventually the pained hisses and pants from her charge faded down into nothingness, and all was silent again, the room warm and cramped and sleepy.

Somewhat satisfied, she drew her main head back, pausing with a few absent nudges to reorganize the body she was covering protectively. Now she turned her hopeful, single optic to the laptop sitting on the floor beside them.

64%, but thankfully still climbing. Slowly.

The progress bar had been stuck for hours around 50%, so to see the number going higher was a relief. They were running out of time.

The Mangle lifted her main head now, clicking softly to herself as she unraveled more of her welded together body. Her head skated upward, impossibly stretching as she checked on the hulking monstrosity sitting beside to the laptop it was hooked up to.

66% now, yet no sign of life from any of them.

The skeletal lady fox chattered to herself irritably, and sank back down to rest into a contorted jumble of servos and parts and limbs.

They were so very comfy, but the Mangle knew things were going to get sticky soon. Very, very sticky, if Circus Baby ended up getting her way. That was fine, because she wasn't getting past Ms. Foxy-not for all the parts in the world. Ms. Foxy had a job to do, and they would do it well.

And when he saw the job she had done, wouldn't Foxy be pleased!

70%...

Something was creeping behind them.

Danny hadn't noticed it at first-being terrified and lost half out of your wits tended to keep you wholly distracted. But the farther they crept through the seemingly endless hall, the more he realized how silent Bonnie was.

According to his watch, they'd only been walking about half an hour when Danny noticed something amiss. He personally couldn't see or hear anything-and so far all the Funtimes made some sort of noise even when hunting-but he strained his ears nonetheless. Finally the day guard gave up on that, and instead watched his best friend. Bonnie moved at a somewhat sedate pace, having to only take one lurching step for every two of Danny's boots. His optics were lit up but not the back beams, likely so not as to draw too much attention to themselves in case they went around a corner where something was waiting. None of that was very telling, but it was Bon's ears Danny was most interested in. Like Mike always taught him, those ears gave everything away about Bonnie models.

It was namely how far back one of those comically large was bent, locked intently onto something lurking in the shadows. When they turned a corner, it swiveled slowly, tracking some far off sound.

"Uh, B-Bonnie?" Danny mumbled, feeling like he had cotton stuffed in his mouth. How long had it been since he'd eaten at the hotel? Almost two days? "W-what's behind us?"

"What makes you think something's behind us?" Bonnie demanded, trying to sound nonchalant. Judging by the day guard's grumpy glance, his efforts had mixed results.

"Shut up man-just tell me: Do we need to run?"

"Kid-I'm a seven foot tall mechanical rabbit whose about three times as old as you-does it look like I can freakin' run?"

"Bonnie-" Danny hissed.

"Alright, alright. Look, it's prolly nuthin'. And even if it wasn't, it would have attacked by now." Unless it was herding them. "Just...just follow my lead."

Danny tried looking over his shoulder, only for a purple paw to clap down roughly and steer him into a room.

The day guard whimpered, scrambling along to keep up with the tall bunny. Even with his limp, and despite his sarcasm from before, Bonnie could move well enough when he wanted to. He wasn't Foxy, but Danny had yet to meet another Foxy model, and he hoped to keep it that way.

They were always so...quick. And sharp. Mentally or physically. It could get unnerving, fast.

The room Bonnie had selected was...strange. Well-actually it wasn't strange at all. In fact it was rather normal-downright boring even. If the room was anywhere else but miles below a factory in an underground warehouse that held possibly uncounted for murderous animatronics.

"Is this...is this a bedroom?" The day guard tossed the bare furnished but carpeted room a skeptical eye. Yet nothing seemed out of place. The room looked real, and yet somehow so fake. Plastic. As if it was ripped from a catalogue and built to spec, with no imagination or personal effects. There was a lamp and a switch, but neither worked when Danny tested them both. He glanced into the lamp and didn't see a light bulb.

Huh. Why did that seem familiar?

"Looks like it." Bonnie mused, eyeing the desk in the corner and turning to face the bed. "Feels like I been here before, but I...can't quite place why."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing to." Danny said. There was one door, and a closet, which was closed. Danny glanced at Bonnie's ears, but the one that wasn't trained behind them awkwardly was only flicking absently, with no real intention as to where or what it was listening for. So they were alone in here, Fitzgerald supposed.

Distracted, both guard and bunny jumped when the door behind them closed and something quick and small shot into the darkness under the plain looking desk.

"...did you hear that?"

"Kid-"

"I know you did I meant-did you see it? Do you know what-? Is it...one of those creepy baby dolls?" Danny had had just about enough of those little shits, and was ready to punt first and ask questions later at this point. Or even better, sic Bonnie on them.

"...no clue. Don't think so. Only seen em once, though. Well, hang on-" Bonnie's ears swiveled precisely. "Smallish. That's all I can give ya." The bunny lapsed into sudden silence, illuminated optics raking across every corner. Danny recognized this slightly glazed look-Bonnie's ears and programming were kicking in. He was mapping the room out, and for the next few moments Danny wouldn't be getting much from the distracted bunny. He had done this before, mapping that ghost kid's strange world out inch by inch, and building a floor plan for his sensitive ears to use.

If Bonnie was allowing himself to go through this series of repetitive studying, then Danny knew he could trust that whatever was in here with them wasn't that threatening.

Or, more likely knowing Bonnie the bunny, it was something that he could take down if it decided to become threatening.

His confidence bolstered by the presence of his oldest and best friend, Danny Fitzgerald took several breaths. He pretended to be Mike, and slunk toward the desk with what he hoped was a confident, friendly stride.

A soft shuffle snared his attention. It sounded spooked, the carpet crinkling quickly as if the something was scrambling deeper into the shadows.

'It's scared.' Danny blinked at his inner realization. He knelt down slowly, trying to peer into the darkness. 'But it was following us…?'

Bonnie's optics clicked toward him, illuminating the space over his shoulder briefly. As soon as Fitzgerald saw the small pink bunny ears, his heart sank and swelled all at once.

'It's a Bonnie model.' Danny tucked this information away, but suddenly he had an answer as to why they were being followed so religiously. 'Maybe it's looking for protection...and knew the same model was the best place to start.'

"Hey….hey c'mon out, it's okay." Danny coaxed quietly, ignoring Bonnie's jealous grunt.

Soft, dull little evergreen optics flickered from Danny's hand to his face, then up to Bonnie and back down to the day guard's hand.

"I'm Danny. Uhm-I'm a day guard, at Freddy's." Well, was. "Kind of. This is Bonnie though you...probably already know his name. Since you're a Bonnie like he is and all-"

"Bonnet." The light voice was so soft despite it's somewhat firm correct, he almost didn't catch it.

"Huh?" His lips formed an 'o' of surprise at the pitch. Save for the emotionless Springtrap-and Nightmare Bonnie, who didn't speak-Danny only had ever heard a Bonnie model speak with a young, male voice. This tone was bit more feminine, and of course combined with her name...

"I'm...I'm Bonnet." The little pink bunnybot repeated miserably as she edged out, dragging herself since she had no legs. Danny took one look at her fuchsia paint job, minuscule size and a neuron kicked in gear.

"Like...Bonbon, right?" He hedged slowly. She even had connector parts where she'd sit on Funtime Freddy's hand. But he wasn't here, and Bonnie wasn't freaking out so he wasn't coming...

Bonnet nodded warily, still eyeing Danny's hand as if he was going to grab at her anyway. She seemed to tense at every little sound she heard and couldn't place, and was so jumpy and...un-Bonnie like in her shyness it made something twist in Danny's heart.

On a whim, he drew his hand back, drawing it sharply. Despite the gesture being aimed away at her, Bonnet flinched, her two ears flopping backwards in unease.

"No-no, it's okay." Danny breathed, crouching down into a more comfortable and less looming posture to indicate he was harmless. "I'm not gunna hurt you, Bonnet. Okay?"

Her optics flicked up behind him meaningfully.

"Bonnie neither. We're the good guys."

At least he hoped they still were, even with losing Mike and Springtrap down here.

'Bonnie models are programmed to be overconfident, nosey and reeeal watchful. I think they were all designed after real rabbits, but regardless, they always pair well with their respective Freddy models.' Danny remembered Mike's words as if he heard them only yesterday. 'It can get...grating, but when it's kind of nice to count on. You can't have a Freddy without a Bonnie, Danny. Don't forget that. In fact, those two are so reliant on each other that it...causes some Bonnie's...problems."

Danny shivered at the memory, realizing now why Mike had sounded so intense when he normally was so laid back. If Danny liked Bonnie models, then Mike was definitely bonded to Freddy. And Mike had learned every inch of Freddy to keep him running well beyond the old bear's years. Of course, that knowledge went hand-in-hand when it came to the bunny builds.

'Springtrap...did Springtrap have a Freddy model? He must. They all had one. Mike said as much.' Danny's train of thought wandered into a dark place for a second, and he felt cold all over despite his hoodie. 'Is that Spring was so fucked up? He lost his Freddy and his programming went….haywire?'

Making a mental note to ask Bonnie later, Danny turned his focus back on the little pink BonBon model, and his worried frown grew.

Who did Bonnet have, all down here by herself in the dark? Buried under a desk, spooking at every little sound. Did Funtime Freddy reject her, did BonBon bully her? ...did the two even know she was down here, by herself and lost and alone? For some reason that last concept was the worst of all, it meant someone had built Bonnet and then just…abandoned her.

"...well, Bonnet. You're the first one down here to not try and kill me, so...do you want to come with us?" Danny offered, fully ignoring the soft grumble of displeasure from over his shoulder. Danny wasn't surprised by this—Bonnie was jealous when Danny befriended his Nightmare counterpart so long ago, of course the bratty bunny would get uptight over someone as small and meek as Bonnet.

"Shh." He scolded Bonnie, tossing him a firm look. "She's all by herself, man. Maybe she's seen Mike...so, how'bout it, Bonnet?"

"...w-what?"

"Come with us. Me and Bonnie." Danny offered her a weak smile. He was nervous too, and he wasn't about to hide it. "We'll look out for you, alright?"

"Take me with you." Bonnie suddenly decided, her voice tight and desperate.

Looks like Danny made a friend. Danny can't do much, but Danny's out there makin' friends. Chapter's song is "Circus of the Dead" by TryHardNinja. Course...what horror story are we talking about is the question. Not all would consider Golden Freddy as something heroic-moreso a haunted hunk of metal, something to be feared.