Author's Note

Hello, again! I hope I didn't keep you folks waiting too long.

Truth be told, it was kind of difficult to write this chapter. I said that I had this entire story planned in advance, but this chapter was the least planned out of the bunch, and I genuinely wasn't sure how it was going to go. Hopefully, I'll have given you something that was worth the wait. At least I got to throw in some more FNaF-related easter eggs this time.

Anyways, enjoy the chapter!

- KromeDome97

Chapter Five: A Cut Above the Rest

With a single bag of chips as their only clue, Candace and Mike set out for Chica's Kitchen Coop. Candace searched the path and the grass around it with her flashlight, all the while performing the balancing act of calling for Caleb — loudly enough for him to hear if he was nearby, but softly enough not to attract any unwanted attention. Mike, equally as cautious, and without a flashlight of his own, copied Candace's calls.

Though Candace knew they would merely be snooping around a vacant dining hall, it felt more like they were trespassing a tomb, disturbing the rest of the dead. She wondered if that was far from the truth, considering her and Mike's harrowing experience with Freddy. The animatronic's display of rage was unfathomable, and having looked into those eyes with their burning red pupils, Candace knew in her heart that it was indeed rage. Machines were supposed to be awkwardly endearing at best, cold and calculating at worst, but this robot held all the wrath a tormented soul could muster in its whimsical shell. Was it, in fact, a living tombstone?

Regardless, part of her hoped that Caleb wasn't in that food court. If Chica the Chicken was patrolling the area like Mike told her, then her little boy wouldn't stand a chance. It was luck and Mike's assistance that kept Freddy from painting the plaza with her blood. She feared Caleb would lack the former, and he certainly did the latter. Sure, he would have more places to hide in the food court than in the wide-open plaza, but what good would that do if Chica smashed through all the hiding places? With all the kitchen tools and appliances that would be in there, there were plenty of ways a defenseless little kid could be filleted, ways that Candace nearly wretched to imagine.

Desperate for some sort of reassurance, she turned her head to Mike, only to find that he was staring at her face. In fact, he was in such a trance that he probably had been doing it for some time. Appearing to snap back to reality, he averted his gaze.

"I'm sorry. It's just... I didn't notice it at first, but now I can't shake the feeling that I've seen you somewhere before," explained Mike.

"You very well could have," replied Candace, "I came here with my kids on opening day, and judging by your getup, I assume you used to work here."

"Yes, I do...did," confirmed Mike, "but it wasn't a very long tenure..." he chuckled a bit before his voice took a turn for the dour, "...for reasons I'm sure you're aware of."

Oh, Candace was aware alright — far too aware.

After letting his vision wander to nowhere in particular, Mike lamented, "It was terrible, what happened to those kids. I can't even imagine what their families had to go through."

Candace could paint him a picture, but she didn't think she wanted to. She wouldn't wish that kind of anguish on anyone, save for the psycho who committed the atrocity in the first place.

"I don't think the man who killed them has any idea of the damage he caused. These were living people: Gabriel, Jeremy, Susie, Fritz, DiDi - all with names, and families, and bright futures that were stolen away from them."

Candace started, not only at the invocation of her late daughter, but how it was delivered.

"Wait," she interjected, "How do you know the children's names?"

Mike stammered, "Um... I saw the news report, on the telly. After I got home that night, when the police were done questioning us employees, I saw..."

"Oh, really? I watched that same report, and the last child you mentioned was named Cassidy. DiDi was a nickname that her family and friends called her, but nobody told the press that. I should know, because I'm her mother. What's your excuse?" interrogated Candace.

Mike's eyes widened, his muscles tensed, and his mouth hung open. Silence weighed the air down as Candace tried to glare him into answering.

"I don't know," he admitted, "I'm sorry."

"That's not good enough," she snapped.

Mike lowered his head and sighed.

"I understand that you may not trust me, but you need me. You were only here once, over half a decade ago, while I have been here many nights. I have been to areas that you have not, discovered things that you have only scratched the surface of. It's the only way to save your son. I'm sorry, but that's the truth."

Silence reigned once more, and Candace took a deep, drawn out breath.

"Fine," she agreed, "but once we make sure that my son is safe, we're going to continue this conversation."

"Deal."

The two resumed their pattern of walking, searching, and calling, until they finally made it to the crossbuck door to Chica's Kitchen Coop. It occurred to Candace that she had never been inside the food court before, since DiDi's life had been taken before they could share one last lunch together. This, she realized, made waltzing on in there much more perilous, at least for her. Unfamiliar territory was the bane of those in survival situations. Like it or not, she really did need Mike to guide her, so when he pried the door open, she tiptoed in beside him without a second thought.

Little did they know that one of the impish Freddy creatures had been surveying them from the roof as they walked into the building. A few seconds after they disappeared from its sight, it skittered down the wall and through the top of the doorway, making sure to keep the lights of its eyes as dim as possible, and then climbed back up to the ceiling. It swiveled it's head backwards and continued to watch over them, waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself.

Candace, meanwhile, took in as much of the darkened dining area as she could. Contrary to the rural ascetic of the building's exterior design, the interior wouldn't have looked out of place in a hot dog restaurant from the nineteen-fifties. The wall to her left was lined with booths, as was the back wall. The seats had a sleek design and metallic paint, bringing to mind the hubcaps of a car, and the red, sparkly cushions resembled cheap upholstery. Peppered throughout the black-and-white-tiled floor were round tables, not unlike the ones in Fazbear Plaza, each with four chairs set on top of them. To Candace's right was a counter that may have once been a salad bar, as well as three food stalls labelled by signs which she didn't bother to read, cleared of everything but the heaviest cooking appliances. Towards the back wall was a small set of curtains, shut as tight as those in the Fazbear Four's stage had once been. Candace wasn't sure what was behind those curtains, but her gut told her that she should only check them as a last resort.

As if he could read her thoughts, Mike gave a whisper of advice: "I'd stay far away from the curtains if I were you. Chica tends to lurk there, and she's good with sharp objects."

He dragged his index finger across his neck and grimaced, a gesture which Candace had no trouble understanding.

"How about I check under the tables, and you check under the booths?" she suggested, to which Mike replied with a nod.

Knowing that it would be much darker under the booths than the tables, Candace offered her flashlight, only for Mike to wave his hand in refusal.

"You keep it," he said, "I know the layout of this place better than you do. I don't want you tripping over a table and attracting some unpleasant company."

Candace drew her hand back, and the search resumed. However, it did so without luck. A few minutes into their search, the pair almost converged at the back of the restaurant, and they found neither hide nor hair of Caleb. Pretty soon, they might have needed to search the area behind the food stalls.

Suddenly, a mechanical shriek cut through Candace and Mike's eardrums, and their gazes darted to the ceiling. There, the little Freddy hung, it's horrid eyes shining down on them, and it's fangs on full display. As if to harmonize with the beast, every electronic in the building began to go crazy. Ceiling lights strobed, stoves flickered on and off, ovens rumbled and hummed, and an unseen intercom blared an aria of static. Shivers coursed through Candace's entire body.

"A Freddle, it can't be! Candace, we need to get — !"

Mike cut off his own warning with a choke, and Candace heard the thump when his body hit the ground. She turned her flashlight on him to find him laying face up. A broad kitchen knife was lodged at least halfway into the left side of his neck. His eyes were wide and glazed, and his body twitched arrhythmically.

"Mike!" she cried.

The heat of what seemed like a spotlight bore down on her, and she turned to face her next tormentor: Chica the Chicken herself. Candace thought that Freddy's eyes were sunken and wild, but Chica's ovine oculars put them to shame in both departments. Those eyes, that were colored a deep purple, each spun in opposite directions, fanning her bushy, tangled eyelashes in the process. A slightly-crooked set of teeth rested in her beak, which more closely resembled the bill of a duck, and a messy tuft of neon-yellow feathers rested on her globular head. The bird wore a white bedsheet of an apron, frilled with a hot-pink fringe, and the words "Let's Eat!" were proudly displayed in multicolored bubble letters. In her left hand, she held a simple, white plate, and resting on it was a pink, googley-eyed cupcake. In her right, she raised a kitchen knife that looked even bigger than the one in Mike's neck.

Knowing that she had split-seconds to spare, Candace shone her flashlight in Chica's eyes, hoping to disorient her the same way she did Freddy. All the chicken did was let out a triumphant cackle, and Candace's stomach dropped. The mascot's pupils turned that familiar, burning red, and she wound up to throw the knife into Candace's skull. In a flash, Candace grabbed the nearest chair and shielded herself from the blade, which pierced the chair so deeply that its pointed tip was still inches from her face. Hoping to escape the bird's sight, Candace tossed the chair away, turned off her flashlight, and threw herself on the floor. When Candace didn't feel the pain of cold steel splitting her skin, she figured she had succeeded.

Unfortunately, the Freddle would have none of that. As if on cue, it dropped from the ceiling and landed on all fours, a few yards away from Candace. It playfully inched towards her, and it made a show out of snarling and snapping its teeth. Her heart sank when she realized that she was trapped. If she stayed on the floor, then she would soon be mauled to death by the Freddle. If she got up and ran, or if she turned her flashlight back on to repel the Freddle, then she would give herself away to Chica. With Mike clearly done for, and nobody else around, no one who could swoop in and save the day. All she could do was scoot away from the creature and hope that she didn't wander into Chica's sight, but she knew that would only buy her a few more seconds.

Sure enough, the Freddle got close enough to pounce. If Candace wanted to survive, she accepted that she'd have to take a risk. Just as the Freddle leapt from the floor, she flicked her flashlight back on. The ursine gremlin shielded its eyes and let itself tumble to the floor. Another knife whizzed by and landed way too close to Candace's left thigh. However, despite the near-accuracy of the throw, the lights of Chica's eyes were pointed far away from her. How could that be?

Soon, a pair of hands hoisted the blinded Freddle off of the floor, and a series of panicked snarls blended with the sound of ripping fabric and human screams. Candace whipped her flashlight to the source of the sounds and found Mike, with the knife still in his neck, carrying the flailing Freddle over to Chica. It's claws tore through his shirt and flesh, but he powered through the pain to reach the larger animatronic. Once he made it to the bird, who procured a frying pan as her next weapon, he pried the Freddle's jaws open and clamped them onto Chica's left wrist. She tried to whack him on the head with the pan, but he ducked in the nick of time, and she knocked her cupcake off of its plate and out of everyone's sight.

Chica squawked in shock, and she began to lash her arms every which way, just as Freddy did when he was blinded. In doing so, she threw the Freddle off of her wrist and into a nearby food stall. It landed near an open, flaming pizza oven, and it let out the highest-pitched shriek it ever had. The Freddle nearly tripped over it's own claws as it scampered out of the stall, and it climbed back up to the ceiling without so much as a jeer at Candace or Mike.

"Get out of here, now!" yelled Mike.

Her heartbeat drowning out the deafening racket, Candace hurried out of the food court and stood trembling once the sounds of the thrashing bird were faint enough. Between her missing child, the murderous animatronics, and now this, she wasn't sure how much more she could take before her mind would break completely. Mike hobbled out after her, slamming the door behind him, which would buy them some time if Chica or the Freddle tried to pursue them.

"Candace..." began Mike.

Candace slowly turned around and gestured wildly with her arms.

"What... was that?!" she demanded to know, "What was any of that?!"

"Well," Mike began to explain, "When I saw that your flashlight had no effect on Chica's eyes, I realized that she had no optical receptors there. The only other thing on her with eyes was the cupcake, so I figured she was seeing through it. Once you blinded the Freddle, I used it to — "

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it!" blurted Candace, "You got hit straight in the neck with a knife - it looked like it went into your spine - but there you were, throwing around robots like you were one yourself! You should be dead!"

"Yes, I should be dead... but I'm not," conceded Mike, who then made a suggestion: "You might want to look away."

He cautiously slid the blade out of his neck, cringing and wincing with every centimeter that emerged. True to his warning, Candace couldn't bear the sight, and she covered her eyes until it was over. He gasped and hacked once the knife was completely free, and only a trickle of blood seeped from the slit in his neck. Almost immediately, a white film began to stretch itself over the wound, and a similar process occurred throughout the gashes in his chest and abdomen.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine. I've been through worse," he reassured.

"How?!" screamed Candace.

"I'll tell you once we've rescued your son." promised Mike.

Candace took a series of deep breaths, desperate to calm herself down. She knew exactly what he was doing. He was using her fear for Caleb to put off giving her the answers she deserved. The worst part was that he was absolutely right to do so. Saving her little boy was priority number one, even after everything she had been through.

"Okay," she panted, "but where are we going to look next: Bonnie's place, or Foxy's?"

"I don't know," responded Mike, "either one would have plenty of nooks and crannies for a kid to hide in."

Candace soon remembered the time that she and her kids spent in Foxy's Treasure Cove. That was where DiDi won that golden teddy-bear for Caleb, being the selfless little angel she was. Surely, Caleb would want to go to a place bearing happier memories than Bonnie's Rockin' Gym, where DiDi was taken from them forever.

"Let's try Foxy's. My kids and I had a fun time there, before DiDi was killed," suggested Candace.

"With as little as we have to go off of, that's as good a reason as any. I'll lead the way," declared Mike, who doubled over and groaned as soon as he took a step forward.

Candace was about to walk over to assist him, but Mike held up an open hand to stop her.

"I'll be fine," he restated.

Candace saw through his attempt at bravado.

"I'll lead the way," she insisted.

Without any more protest from Mike, they walked back up the path to Fazbear Plaza. Candace made sure to go slowly enough so that the still-limping Mike could keep up, but quickly enough not to waste any more time. Just as they were about to reach the plaza, a yellow ball of light flew right in front of Candace's face, startling the both of them.

"Is that... ?" whispered Mike. With little hesitation, he dragged himself past Candace and to the light, which started to soar away from them. Candace stood, dumbfounded.

"Come on! This'll show us the way!" he shouted to her.

This being far from the strangest thing she saw tonight, Candace was willing to believe him. She caught up to him, and they ventured into the plaza before the light faded away, disappearing as quickly as it came. What she saw next was a dream come true.

There, right by the stage's remains, stood Caleb. Obviously, he hadn't noticed her yet, for his eyes were locked on the wooden rubble and the animatronic bear that it imprisoned. That wouldn't be true for long.

"Caleb!" she called. Every emotion at once spilled out with that single word, and tears burst from the corners of her eyes. Caleb could only glance her way before she pulled him into her arms and buried her face in his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Mike shifted closer to them, gazing down at the emotional mother and her confused son. He clutched his neck with one hand and his abdomen with the other, both still in searing pain. The boy worriedly stared at him.

"Oh, Caleb! I'm so glad you're safe!" wailed Candace.

Caleb probably would have cried along with his mom, but he was far too distracted by the stranger behind her.

"Mom, is that man okay?" he asked.

Candace lifted her head from his shoulder and wiped her tears before answering, "He says he will be, but I'm not so sure. Actually, I'm not sure of anything he says about himself. He helped me find you, but he's been hiding a lot of things from me."

Mike bowed his head.

"It's true. I have been hiding things from you, from the very beginning. At first, I thought that these matters didn't concern you, that I was protecting you. Then, the situation became far too urgent. I couldn't waste time explaining myself while your son was in mortal danger. Now that we have him, I'm going to tell you the truth — all of it. You and your family never deserved to be dragged into this mess. The least you're owed is an explanation. For starters, my last name isn't Schmidt. It's Afton."

Mike checked behind him before wincing again. The wound is his neck had long finished scarring over, but his chest and abdomen were still mangled. Candace suddenly felt a pang of regret. Clearly, Mike had meant well this whole time. He did everything in his power to help someone he didn't even know, yet she only repaid him with spite and distrust. That was going to change, and she would start by finding him a safe place to rest.

"Let's go back to the help desk," she interjected, "We're all sitting ducks out here, and you need somewhere safe to... heal. After that, you can tell us everything else."

Closing Notes

I'm glad that this chapter is over with, because I'm really looking forward to writing Chapter Six. A lot of questions are going to get answers, some of which you may completely expect, and others that may throw you for a loop.

As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and make sure to leave a review! See you next time (well, I guess I won't literally be seeing you, but...)!

- KromeDome97