Mable: You've been waiting long enough for this, so without any further delay let us start. Enjoy!
Almost Feels Like Home
Chapter Sixty-Three
It was a familiar scene, but this time Mike was more aware of it. It only took a few moments of being stranded in the surreal forest that he recognized the crunching grass and close nit trees. He pushed his way through until he caught sight of a familiar red lake in a clearing up ahead. It was only once he was within a few feet that he noticed the red figure sitting alongside the lake.
This time Mike was surprisingly lucid and as he cautiously approached the lake, he kept distance from the man. He was certain that he was dreaming and somehow that alone didn't wake him up. As he was watching, the man started to reel in his line as to cast out again, and as he did so he looked towards Mike with that wide grin. Its empty eyes stared him down and he stared back with hesitance.
"Hello, Mike," the red man finally said. His voice was distorted and deep.
"Hey," Mike greeted. He studied the creature for a moment before asking. "So, what are you supposed to be? A crocodile or a bulked-up Foxy?"
"I'm Old Man Consequences," the man introduced. That name alone gave Mike the wrong idea, which the being must've noticed. "Don't be frightened. I'm just a fisherman, casting lures and seeing what I catch."
"Yeah…" While Mike approached the lake, he made sure to keep a comfortable six feet of distance between them. "Catch anything good lately?" He looked down into the red water; empty of anything.
"Yes. You." Once again, the security guard was uneasy by the comment, and this time went so far as to take a step back. As though he could outrun his dreams or would try to. The red man shook his head to answer a question that wasn't asked. "Don't take that the wrong way. You won't be here long, I only brought you here to warn you."
"To warn me… Alright," Mike repeated doubtfully. The man patted the grass alongside him. The human raised a hand in dismissal. "I think I'd rather stand if you don't mind."
"I don't as long as you listen," Old Man Consequences agreed. He pulled the fishing line out of the water and in a split second recast it out across the water. Once he was settled again, he continued with a cryptic comment. "He's watching your house again."
"Who, Burke?" Mike guessed. The red man gave a slight shake of the head but didn't clarify who it was. "No, come on. You've got me out here, who is it?"
"You know who it is," the man affirmed. "You would do well to get back tonight." Mike's eyes widened at the comment, slightly uneased by the suggestion. "And watch your six."
And before Mike could get a chance to ask, he was waking up in bed and the dream was over.
Except that he knew instantly that it wasn't like a normal dream. It was all too clear and the memories of it seemed fresher. It uneased him and he sat up to go find Marionette when he noticed the suit hanging on the bedroom door and exhaled slowly. Right, he had to be somewhere today. Now he had to worry about someone stalking the house while he was hours away.
"Couldn't just tell me who it is. Had to be mysterious just for giggles," Mike mentally complained as he got out of bed and changed. He wouldn't put on the suit yet, knowing that the drive would be a lot easier if he changed once he got to his destination. He then steadied himself and headed out of the bedroom.
He found Marionette wrapping their gift at the dining room table. The coffee was already made and timed perfectly, though a glance at the clock showed that Mike had gotten up on time without the alarm. He wondered if Old Man Consequences had purposefully woken him then. It was disturbing to think that he would have a concept of time at all. Mike tried to shake aside the thoughts and headed into the kitchen and greeted his companion with a kiss on the head. "Morning."
"Good morning!" Marionette trilled as he finished taping the side of the box. "I didn't think you'd want a big breakfast before the drive, so I left a couple of cereal bars out by the coffee pot for you to choose from."
"Thanks." Mike headed over to pour a cup of coffee. He didn't feel like he direly needed it to stay awake, but the habit was a comforting one. As he stirred in a packet of creamer, he thought back to the dream. "I had some weird prophetic dreams last night. I was out in the middle of this forest-." He cut off as Charlie entered the kitchen. "Speaking of which; Charlie, I had a dream last night and the long and short of it is that if anyone comes by today while we're not here and starts causing trouble, call either Fritz, Jeremy, or Scott. Scott if it's after ten. Tabby if you need her handgun."
"You had a dream about someone coming by while you were gone?" Charlie asked in confusion. "Like what, a robber?"
"I don't know, but when a red crocodile tells you to watch your house, you watch your house," Mike affirmed. She only looked more confused by this.
"How doth the little crocodile improves his shining tail and pour the waters of the Nile on every crimson scale,~" Marionette jokingly recited as he tied the ribbon on the present and fluffed the bow. "How cheerfully he seems to grin! How neatly he spread his claws! And welcomes little fish in with gently smiling jaws.~"
"Yeah, that. Except he was using a fishing rod and wasn't catching anything," Mike added in. "What was that from?"
"Alice in Wonderland," the Puppet answered. He began to fussily check over the wrapping paper.
"Yeah, that's what we need. More trips down the rabbit hole with people with screws loose," Mike remarked as he swigged a mouthful of coffee.
"Put your finger in Foxy's hole.~" Mike barely turned around in time to spit the coffee right into the sink. "Foxy's not at home. Foxy's out at the back door picking at a bone,~" Marionette finished reciting as innocently as could be.
"Jesus Christ," Mike muttered, having nearly inhaled his own drink.
Marionette sent an unenthused look towards Mike, barely masking a slight smirk. "It's a nursery rhyme, Mike."
"Don't ever turn that into a song. We'll get into trouble so fast." He turned around to see the Puppet's smug look. Charlie, meanwhile, had thrust a couple of fingers over her mouth to stave off the low jingling that the other two could clearly hear.
"What a shame, I thought it would be an excellent song to play before closing," Marionette teased as he stood and took the present. "How long until we leave? I don't want to be late."
"The ceremony's not until this afternoon, so it's not like we have to blow out of here. We'll get there when we get there," Mike dismissed as he chose and opened an apple cinnamon flavored bar. He began to rush through it, reluctantly aware that the striped one did have a point about the time. He paused in his makeshift breakfast to offer to Charlie. "You can come if you want."
"No thanks. This is sort of a family affair," Charlie declined. It wasn't that she was especially nervous about being around Mike's mother, but more that the concept of sneaking around an intimate family event just felt like too much. "Besides, I need to stick around for if burglars break in," she added jokingly. It sounded like she was fine with this.
Mike almost wished she wasn't so that he would have an excuse to leave early. Just the thought of what was coming caused an uncomfortable fluttering in his stomach. It wasn't even that he was against what was happening; he was for it once he got over the shock of finding out only a week earlier. More it was just that he knew this would bring up memories of his father and of past events that were always awkward to confront. At least it wasn't going to be a big affair.
"If you say so," Mike casually dismissed. "Still, I'm planning on getting back tonight, so if you hear someone blindly wandering through the house at three in the morning, it's probably us." He looked back to Marionette, who had knelt to pet and coddle Moppet. At least he seemed to be in a good mood.
It wasn't until Mike and Marionette were on the highway that the dream came back up. Mostly because it would be a rather uneventful drive, though nothing compared to the slog that was driving to the convention.
"Have you heard of anyone or anything called Old Man Consequences?" Mike asked. This got an understandably perplexed looked from the puppet, who was slid down in the passenger's seat. "It seems too precise and convoluted to be something I just pulled off the top of my head."
"I can't say I have. I can't say I've heard of a red crocodile animatronic either, which would almost make sense. The ability to invade dreams isn't exactly a foreign concept if Goldie and Max know how to do it," Marionette pointed out. He got a slightly disturbed look. "That's really all he said? That someone was coming by the house?"
"Actually, he didn't even say that. He just said that someone was watching the house and that we should get home tonight. Which is ominous but could also just be paranoia. Maybe just my own paranoia elaborately manifesting itself so that I can give myself a reason to stay at home and lounge all day."
"Maybe I shouldn't have left Charlie alone. Isabelle would've understood," Marionette suggested worriedly. It still wasn't too late to turn back if they really needed to, which Mike was aware of. But the thought of doing this without Marionette there- about having to face this event alone- made him uneasy. He was surprised at how uncomfortable it made him.
"I kind of need you to be with me during this. I just, you know, it's a difficult spot and knowing that everything going to be different after today…" Mike glanced to the listening puppet and trailed off with an exhale. "Maybe I'm being selfish. If there is something going on, then I don't want to ignore it."
"Or maybe you're right. Maybe you're more stressed out and worried than you're willing to let yourself admit. We'll just get home at a reasonable hour and make sure that if there is someone watching the house that they don't see me on the way back inside," the puppet assured. He smiled to Mike. "This is going to go great."
That was exactly why he needed him here. Mike got a dry smile and added, "It would be going a lot better if I wasn't stuck giving a toast. You know it's going to be weird if I don't bring up Dad and even weirder if I do. No matter which way I go it's going to kill the mood."
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm right behind you the whole time!... Except during the ceremony, when I will either be in your car or at your Mom's house," Marionette said lightly. It did ease the mood a little bit considering the rather delicate situation. "From what I've heard of it so far, I think your toast is fine. Keeping it short is good, it gets to the cake faster."
"If she lets me, I'll bring you back the cake toppers," the man offered with a small smile.
"You always know how to give me a smile," Marionette playfully chimed. "And yes, please."
By time they had gotten to Isabelle's, they were pressing on time. This meant that Isabelle's typical elongated greeting of hugging and gushing had to be cut short so that Mike could change. Soon he was in his old bedroom, changing into a suit and tie. He was lucky that he hadn't been pressed to rent a tuxedo, considering the smaller scope of things it had been decided that it wouldn't be needed. Now it was just a matter of getting himself presentable.
"Here, let me help," Marionette offered as he moved in and brushed back Mike's hands. His grip was shaky, and his mind wasn't entirely there, so it would just be easier if the puppet took the initiative. Soon the tie was adjusted and the suit smoothed down. "There you go."
"Thanks." Mike noticed the red bowtie that Marionette had put around his own neck and raised a brow. "I thought you weren't coming."
"I'm not, but I still wanted to get dressed for the occasion. Just in case you bring back cake and pictures and we decide to reenact the whole ceremony in your bedroom. To give me a better idea of how it went, of course." When that brow stayed raised, Marionette drew back and raised his hand with a playfully exaggerated shrug. "Or something along those lines. All I know is that I didn't come all this way to not get a dance."
"Tell you what, if I make it out with my legs intact then I'm yours once I get back," Mike offered. Yet as playful and childish as it all sounded, there was part of him that knew this would be their evening, and he was more than happy with that. "Guess I should go make sure Mom's ready."
"I'm proud of you, Mike. You'll do fine," Marionette assured him with a pat on the shoulders. "Go out there and put on a good show."
That was exactly what Mike intended on doing too. He didn't let Isabelle see any doubt on his face as he drove her in her car to the location. It was a simple building that seemed to be rented out specifically for these occasions. The room they had gotten was set up nicely and easily fit the twenty or so family members invited to the event. There might've been whispers, but Isabelle didn't notice them. She was beaming the entire time and Mike couldn't deny that she looked beautiful. He thought it without bias; his mother was beautiful.
"Do you, Patrick Schmidt, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife through sickness and health, poverty and wealth, to love and cherish until death do you part?"
It seemed so strange seeing his uncle in a tuxedo, and not just because he was the only man in the room wearing one. Mike would be sure to elbow him about it later, but for now he just watched him with the upmost respect. He wasn't his brother, he couldn't be, but Patrick was just fine being his own person. Mike always respected that, and it didn't change now. "I do."
"And do you, Isabelle Schmidt , take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband through sickness and health, poverty and wealth, to love and cherish until death do you part?"
Mike was half surprised that she wasn't crying. Instead, she just looked so happy and he clung to it. Any doubt was erased by how happy she was. It was time for her to move on and while Mike wasn't sure if he was ready for it, he was ready to trust his mother with this decision. She knew what she was doing, she looked as certain as she ever had. "I do."
He watched quietly and said nothing when given the chance. Even when a solemn feeling crept up, even when he vaguely thought about his father and the family they once were, he had no desire to say anything.
"Then by the power invested in me by the state of Utah, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the pastor finished. Isabelle and Patrick did so with restrained eagerness and the room erupted in clapping. The wedding ceremony was over and the two were married. Mike didn't exactly get emotional, but there was a joy in it, and he was confident that he made the right decision to come and be a part of it.
The wedding had been small, so the reception had much more attention put into it. Tables had been draped in lacey, white tablecloths with succulents arranged in their centers. Mike had been sat at the head table with his mother, Patrick, one empty chair, and his grandparents, whom he caught up with briefly during dinner. It wasn't until after dinner that the toasts were brought up. Mike got a brief reprieve while Aunt Lisa and Grandpa Wally gave their toasts, but as the last person he couldn't help but feel like there was extra pressure.
Mike stood from his seat and raised a glass of non-alcoholic champagne as he began his toast. He took a deep breath and recited what he had memorized from the paper currently in his pocket.
"I'm going to try to try and keep this short, because there's so much that could be said and the cake's already starting to lean from the heat," Mike began, pausing for a laugh. "And I don't think there's much that needs to be said. Mom, you are a wonderful, caring woman and you deserve to be happy with someone who will give you the same love and support that you've given those around you. Patrick, you have always been there through thick and thin, unwavering. You have stood by your ethics and your family and didn't make any compromises on either."
He briefly hesitated, second guessing how far he was willing to go with this. There was that one part of the speech that was borderline inappropriate and he still wasn't sure whether it was worth coming out with it. He stalled his decision by continuing the toast.
"I couldn't imagine a better couple to complete each other's lives. I know you two are going to have a good life together. It's about time that you worried about your own happiness," Mike insisted. He hesitated a long moment. "…And I know that Dad would've been happy about this too." That was it. One fell swoop, then he tried to end the toast as quickly as possible. "To you Mom, Patrick, and to the bright future you're both going to have."
Thankfully, this didn't result in immediate outrage from anyone. It went over well enough, with Isabelle even hugging him a little too tightly when he sat back down. Apparently she needed it, and Patrick looked appreciative that he had said it. Someone had to, and Mike wasn't afraid to avoid the difficult statements.
Mike was thrilled for them both. He missed his father, but he knew this was for the best. He was ready to accept it and move on.
While the idea of a dark, rainy night seemed to be the perfect backdrop for a horror movie, Charlie had never been unnerved by the weather. It wasn't until after her accident that it began to subconsciously raise her dread. Suddenly the tapping of raindrops on the roof made her more fidgety. She ignored it as best as she could with distractions. First her textbooks, and then when she realized she wasn't absorbing what she was reading she switched to the television. The storm must've disrupted the cable as most of the channels were staticky or completely unresponsive.
"Maybe I'll just head to bed…" Charlie considered. She looked down at Moppet who was curled up in the center of the couch then smiled. "Think you can keep an eye out for monsters for me?" she asked as she pet the cat's back. Moppet woke with a stretch and turned her head to nuzzle back into the hand. Then she looked up towards the back of the couch, staring like she was looking towards the dining room.
Charlie looked over the back of the couch as well, but there was nothing to see. The kitchen light was on and the dining room was empty. She decided she would probably leave that light on.
With a hollow sigh, Charlie leaned over to turn off the lamp beside the couch. She turned down the television but left it on, thinking that it made the house feel somewhat more welcoming for when Mike and Marionette got home. It would be easier than waiting up for them. She stood from the couch and headed to her bedroom, textbooks in hand and Moppet following behind her. The cat slipped into the room before she shut the door and climbed on her bed while she set the books down on the dresser.
Without the sound of the television, the rain was much more audible. At first Charlie thought that was why she felt so uneasy, but she knew that wasn't all it. "Thanks for creeping me out before you left, Mike," she thought as she looked around. She wasn't exactly tired yet, so maybe she would be able to find a distraction in here until Mike and Marionette got home.
Her eyes just happened to fall on the cracked closet door and she wandered over to it. That seemed like viable option. Marionette had casually offered for her to look through the things in the closet if she wanted to and she occasionally did, but there were plenty of boxes left undiscovered. She opened the closet and stepped inside. It was still packed as always, save the hiding spot in the back. It was just a cleared-out area behind some of the boxes that she used to hide in back when she needed that extra protection.
She leaned to look inside the spot, almost tempted to climb back there again, when she noticed a small box of toys. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment before pulling it closer.
"I wonder if these were Baby's old toys." Opening the box the rest of the way seemed to suggest that they were. There were fashion dolls with extravagant dresses and scruffy hair, a couple of plush toys, and a single pink arm. She blinked and fished it out. "What did this come off of?" She turned it over in her hand before pushing some of the top toys aside. It was then that she came face to face with a Freddy plush. Except that it was colored white and purple. "Which version of Freddy was this?... Oh, there's a leg."
Someone had hidden Freddy toys underneath the normal ones. She assumed Marionette didn't know about them, because as far as she knew the recolored Freddy was not in his collection, and she doubted he would leave this other toy broken apart. The head was tucked into the back corner and it was only then that she realized it was probably a Toy Foxy doll. It looked strangely familiar.
In the back of her mind, Charlie swore she had seen a toy just like this before. In the foggy recollection she remembered a girl who had it and she assumed she had been so curious of it because of her father's relationship with Freddy's. Though she couldn't remember if that was before or after he died. What she could remember was that the girl had stood out.
"Wait a minute… Was that Baby? Did Baby and I know each other a long time ago?" Charlie wondered. It was a surprising thought, but there was also something exciting about it. She wondered how Baby would react if she knew that there was a possibility they played with each other when they were just little girls.
A rumbling noise interrupted her thoughts. It almost sounded like it had come through the wall and Charlie looked back out of the closet in paranoia. Moppet was laying on the bed staring off at nothing. She seemed relaxed, with only the tip of her tail twitching. It had to have been thunder, but the Security Puppet still felt a little uneasy. She sent one last lingering look into the box before leaving the closet.
"Maybe I could call Baby. She should be up." A distraction like that sounded like a good idea. Charlie headed out of her bedroom and back down the hall, turning around to see if Moppet was going to follow. Apparently, the cat decided it would be too much work.
A dull knock caught Charlie off guard. Still stopped in the hallway, she looked towards the wall and Marionette's bedroom door. It sounded like something had moved inside and she wondered if he had somehow teleported home. After a moment of consideration, she opened the bedroom door to look inside.
But there was nobody there. She could see straight through the darkened room and saw nothing. Maybe the noise had come from outside, or maybe it had been strange sounding thunder. Now much more uneasy, Charlie shut the bedroom door again and continued into the living room. The television had gone out fully and was now just stuck on a snowy screen. She ignored her plan to leave it on and shut it off, then headed to the phone. She quickly dialed Scott's home phone number and waited for an answer. Thankfully, there was one.
"Hello?" Scott greeted. It wasn't too terribly late, so she wasn't surprised that he was still awake. Though she also wasn't certain if he was him or Ennard.
"Hey, it's Charlie. Sorry to call so late but I was wondering if I could talk to Baby?" Charlie asked. She noticed a dull humming on the line that too seemed to be interference.
"Sure thing! Give me just a second." She could hear a wheeling office chair followed by the man calling. "Ennard, can you tell Baby that she has a call?" She thought she barely heard Ennard's response, but it was muffled by that growing humming, which was starting to crackle and pop a bit more. "She's be r-ght on. How's it go- er there?"
"It's going alright. I think the storm's taking out a lot of the electronics. I guess I should be glad that the power's still on." She hesitated before asking, "But you wouldn't know where the fuse box is in case it does?"
"It's ov- the w-shing mach-ne," Scott responded. There was a clicking noise that signaled another phone picking up. "Hold on, here's B-." His phone clicked off and through the interference she heard Baby's soft voice.
"Charlie?" Baby asked. The phone warped her voice, crunching on syllables as it transmitted the sound. A heavy feeling weighed down Charlie's back as she gripped the phone cord. The kitchen felt cold- though that would've been because she was standing beside the pantry.
"Hey! I, uh, know it's late, but I was going through the closet and-." There was a loud thump from somewhere in the house. She raised her head and listened carefully. She couldn't tell if it was inside or out, and the peal of thunder that followed only complicated it. A low tone began to rise in her own chest as she began to feel more unsafe.
"Ch-lie? I ca-an't hear you. Some-… Break… rlie?" Baby tried to speak through the phone. Charlie stayed quiet as she listened. There was a slowly rising creak through somewhere in the house, followed by a thunking noise. "Char-? Are you th-re? Ans- me."
"I think there's someone trying to get into the house," Charlie whispered. Panic started to creep over her as a chill like fingers rested on her shoulders. Baby said nothing. "…Baby?" It took a few seconds to realize that beyond the static there wasn't any voice at all. The call had been forcibly ended. Charlie hung up the phone and tried to redial but noticed quickly that she had lost the dial tone. The phone was dead, and she was on her own.
By now the noises had stopped and Charlie couldn't help but wonder if she had just exaggerated them. They didn't sound like thunder though and she started to slowly head to the hall, needing to get back to her room where it would be safe. It was once in the hall that she heard a shifting, scraping sort of noise. Like the sound of something being dragged coming from one of the bedrooms. It almost sounded like it came from Marionette's until she was outside the door and realized it was from Foxy's old room.
Charlie knew that she would have no choice but to check on the sound. She stayed quiet as she courageously approached the door and rested her hand on the knob. She slowly turned it, being as quiet as she could be, and slowly opened the door to peer inside. She got the door only a crack open when she saw the source of the noise.
Springtrap was climbing through the window.
She barely withheld from slamming the door shut. One hand flew to her chest to suppress the music that she knew would try to come forth as she backed from the door. He was here and Mike and Marionette weren't, and she didn't know when they would be back. She couldn't handle him on her own; he was both bigger and stronger than her. There was nowhere to run, so she would have to hide.
It only took a few seconds to make it to her bedroom and close the door behind her. "Maybe I should go out the window? No, wait." Charlie looked towards the still open closet. "There! He didn't see me and he must think the house is empty, so if I hide he'll just leave… Unless he's here looking for me." She shuddered lightly. "Then I'll go out the window."
After a moment of consideration, Charlie carefully lifted Moppet from her bed and made her way to the closet. She could hear thumping footsteps as she closed the closet and slid into her safe spot in the back. She pet Moppet in stressed motions, struggling to keep the cat calm as they sat in the darkness. Her music kept trying to play and every time she desperately fought it back and forced herself to stay calm.
It was then that the heavy footsteps started to creep down the hall. Charlie squeezed further down behind the boxes as she heard the rabbit get closer. She could've made the wrong choice in trapping herself. But at the last moment his footsteps turned and headed to the master bedroom. She heard him let himself in and tracked him all the way to the closet. She could hear him open the door through the thin wall and began to hear the rustling and clattering of a file cabinet. Along with a deep groan. It sounded agonizing and animalistic.
The Security Puppet gripped tighter at the cat in her hands without realizing it. This disturbed Moppet just enough to climb out of her grasp, slipping through her arms and leaping off to the floor where she proceeded to head in the direction of the door. Charlie scrambled to grab for her, but in the motion the toy box that had moved earlier and was now sitting precariously on the edge of another box, started to fall. She had just barely caught it from falling but that didn't stop the rustling sound, the scraping of cardboard against the closet wall, the jingling, and she knew he heard it too.
She also noticed that the noise on the other side of the closet wall had suddenly silenced. She held her breath and stayed still, hoping that he would ignore it, but then she heard the footsteps again, and this time they were faster. There wouldn't be enough time to get herself out of the closet and out the window. The closet had become her box; she felt trapped inside of it. Charlie hid further into her hiding spot, fitting herself further behind the boxes.
Just as the Security Puppet stilled, the bedroom door was thrown open and soon afterwards the closet. She could smell the telltale odor of ash and some sort of burning rubber. He smelled like a walking electrical failure and his glowing eyes scanned through the small closet. Springtrap knew he had heard something and intended to find it, she knew that.
One of her hands clutched the edge of a box while the other held the bell at the end of her point to keep it quiet. She could hear him leaning further towards her, maybe noticing the cleared space. If he got any closer, he would see her. It didn't matter how tightly she was crammed back there he was just too close. He started to slide his foot across the carpet to step inside.
Then came a low noise. A warning yowl of another kind. Springtrap's head snapped in the other direction so fast that Charlie could hear the cracking of his neck. The rabbit leaned in and could see Moppet staring out from the opposite side of the closet, crouched down low beside a couple of pairs of abandoned children's shoes. Her eyes were wide, and her fur stood on end. She gave another warning yowl as he leaned in further to see. He stopped and stared at the animal, contemplating if this was the cause of the racket.
As the rabbit started to turn, Moppet decided she had enough and gave a shrill cry before darting forwards. She gave a few swats at his feet before darting out of the closet and out the bedroom door.
Springtrap stood there at the closet door for a few long minutes. During this time Charlie continued to stay quiet and wait, hoping that Moppet had been the distraction she needed. It was confirmed when the charred springlock suit backed out of the closet and headed back out into the hall. She could hear through the wall as he returned to the master bedroom's closet and continued to scour. Seconds dragged on as she listened to him and it felt like an eternity before she heard him leave the room and head down the hallway.
Charlie wasn't sure how long she waited there before she decided to creep out of the closet and to the bedroom door. She stopped there and listened in closely but couldn't hear him any longer.
"Did he leave? Maybe he wasn't looking for me after all. He must have been looking for something else… In the file cabinet," she thought as she glanced towards the master bedroom door. It was probably not safe enough to go exploring, but she knew that Mike kept a bat under his side of the bed anyways. She could use it even if she returned to hiding in the closet. Slowly she crept over and slid into the room and shut the door carefully behind her. That way if he came back, she would have a second before he got into the room.
The closet doors were left open and the file cabinet had been nearly ransacked. Files were dropped in messy stacks on the floor with a few loose papers scattered on the carpet around muddy footprints. He had been looking for something in here, and if he left then that meant he probably found it.
"Maybe he really did leave… Maybe I should check the house to make sure." Charlie made the risky decision to go see if he was truly gone. She couldn't imagine what would happen if he was still here when Mike and Marionette got home. Then again, she couldn't imagine how she would be able to fight him off if he was still there.
Charlie steadied herself and got the baseball bat out from underneath the bed before heading back out into the hallway. The door to Foxy's room was open and she could see the window left wide open. The sound of rain was as clear as day, but there was no sign of the rabbit. She swallowed her unease and crept further along. It was once she was at the bathroom door that she heard a heavy thumping noise. She jumped and stopped quickly, listening closely, but noticed that the sound almost seemed muffled. As though through the wall.
There was a fleeting hope that the sound had come from outside and was Springtrap making his escape, but Charlie realized this wasn't the case when she stepped out from the hallway and looked over to see the pantry and basement door both left open. He had gone downstairs.
The safest option would be to go hide again and Charlie knew this, but at the same time she couldn't help but thing about that long set of stairs. Animatronics had such trouble getting up and down stairs. If she shut the door and put something on it, chances are he wouldn't be able to get back out. She could trap him and secure everyone's safety at once. Elsewise, he might wait to ambush the others, and she wouldn't stand aside and wait for that. Charlie carefully approached the trap door and looked down the stairs.
The light was on in the basement and she could hear him moving things around. From the banging around, he clearly had the same grace down there as he did with the file cabinet. She set the bat aside and carefully lowered down the trapdoor with both hands, almost certain that he wouldn't hear it. Not with the banging he was making downstairs. Since the door didn't have a lock on it, she looked around for something weighty to cover it. Stacking can goods wouldn't be enough. Even something that would be weighty for her like the microwave would probably be light to him.
"But maybe I don't need something heavy. Maybe I just need something I can wedge in there…" Charlie looked back towards the dining room table before hurrying over to grab a chair. She dragged it back and started to fit it between the lowest shelf, which she put back, and the door. It barely worked, with the chair having to be laid down and even then having a few inches of give. It was better than nothing she supposed, and she moved some of the heavier cans down onto that lower shelf. "If this works it'll barely work."
Charlie returned to the phone and this time tried to dial Mike's cellphone number, but the static was still deafening and the dial tone was still absent. The phoneline was still down.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs stalled her already hopeless efforts and Charlie snatched the bat back up to protect herself. She watched the trapdoor intently as the heavy steps came closer, slowly creaking their way up the stairs, until the door started to open. It only raised about two inches before the chair above it thumped against the shelf. The weight of the chair alone hadn't been anything at all. The golden rabbit paused like he was realizing something had changed, then tried again to the same results.
The third time Springtrap hit the door with full strength and it was then that her plan began to unravel. The entire shelf, cans and all, shook at the blow and the door came up an inch further than it was supposed to. Charlie started to back away when a hand slid through and grabbed the door above it. He was preparing to use more force. In an instant, she did the riskiest maneuver she could think of and threw herself onto the door, trying to use her own weight to assist in the makeshift barricade. Unbelievably, it seemed to work, as Springtrap's grip momentarily faltered.
Turning herself around, Charlie angled the bat before thrusting the end forward to knock his fingers off the door. A few quick hits and his grip gave, but he was still ramming up into the door. He fit both hands through and started feeling around on the carpet, back up against the door. But the Security Puppet was just as quick. She got up on her knees and swung the bat down between the hands in a warning blow. It would be the only one; if he persisted, she would go for them and she would do damage. A forewarning mix of music and static echoed from her chest as she swung at the carpet.
For a few minutes they played game of chicken, with Springtrap shifting and moving his hands for a grip as she swung down and hit the carpet. Eventually he yanked his hands back in and the door dropped closed, jostling the Security Puppet and throwing her off balance. She managed to brace herself and listened for the rabbit below. Her music began to quiet as she tried to listen in closer, knowing he was doing the same to her. Her internal metal coils tightened and she readjusted her grip on the bat, only to notice her left hand stuck.
Charlie looked down to find her strings having slid out of her wrists and wrapped around the bat. She hadn't even noticed she had done it and slowly pulled her hand back, watching as the string untangled.
A heavy thump stopped her efforts and she grappled the bat again as she waited for the rabbit to bang against the door. The rabbit did not. Instead, the noise was an awkward step down the stairs, followed with the heavy footsteps as the rabbit receded into the basement below. She knew he had to be planning something and listened carefully, shortly later hearing loud bumping and sliding as he continued to rearrange the basement. Perhaps looking for another way out, or worse a weapon.
Charlie wasn't sure how long she stayed there, just like when she was in the closet. It felt like an eternity and only seemed to stretch longer once Springtrap went eerily quiet. She was on full guard and prepared for whatever he intended to do next, waiting for something, anything to happen. Unable to see the clock and not yet comfortable enough to judge her internal clock.
Lights eventually shined in the window as a car pulled up in the driveway outside. Charlie's hopes were raised as she watched towards the door expectantly and waited for her housemates to come in. But Marionette never teleported inside. She was instead greeted by a knocking on the front door, signaling that someone other than Mike was at the phone. She was already on edge and stared at the door silently. It wasn't as though she could move anyway, no longer trusting the chair to hold the door on its own.
It was a surprise when she heard the jingling of keys followed by the door opening on its own. Charlie stood so quickly that her back hit the edge of the shelf, and it felt like she hit it almost as hard as Springtrap had tried to. Panic turned to a mix of confusion and relief when it was Scott who stepped through the door.
"Charlie?" Scott called in as he looked around. It didn't take him long to spot her. "Baby said… Something was wrong. Are you okay?" Halfway through he had noticed the bat and the strained look on her features.
"Golden Bonnie's down in the basement!" Charlie blurted out with a flood of music. "He broke in and I have him trapped down there, but I don't know what he's doing, and I don't know if I can hold him if he comes back!" She wasn't sure if it was possible, but his face seemed to grow two shades paler.
"Okay, just- uh- have you- does the door have a latch or a lock or anything?!" Scott asked in growing desperation. She shook her head. "Oh wow, okay, uh… Maybe I can find something heavier to put on it." He started to look around frantically and Charlie listened through the door again.
"He's been quiet for a while… I heard him moving things downstairs and then nothing, so I don't know if he's waiting or what's going on," Charlie admitted. Now the man looked back to her. "And I don't know when Mike and Mari are going to be back, but last time he and Mari ran into each other it ended in a fight."
This seemed to be what sobered Scott up the most. Now he shared the same worries as she did, but it was a bit more personal for him. While Charlie certainly feared the suit that had been involved in her brother's kidnapping, Scott was associated with the person who was inside it. He had known Michael. Maybe Michael and he weren't close, with the young man always rather bitter towards him, but knowing him on that human level gave him an advantage. Maybe he could use that advantage.
Scott came over and crouched beside her. "M-Move over. I'm going to go try to talk him down."
"I don't think that's a good idea," Charlie said. She could barely believe he was serious and didn't budge from her spot. "I don't think he wants to talk. He heard me from another room and ran in looking for me like he would've attacked. If it wasn't for Moppet, he would've found me too." This seemed to visibly unease him, but he still seemed determined. Or at least, he was still waiting for her to move, so she finally did. "It's not much, but we have the bat if he does something."
"That's- That wouldn't do anything on that suit. It's made like a tank. It could survive pretty much anything," Scott cryptically forewarned. He then reached shakily into his jacket- it was only now that Charlie noticed he was wearing nightclothes underneath it- and pulled out a taser. He shook it. "But this might do something."
"…What exactly did Baby say?" Charlie asked slowly.
"Uh, it's not what she said. When you've been in the business as long as I have, heh, you go into every late-night call with one of these," Scott said with a small smile. He was obviously still stressed, and he knew this was probably a terrible idea, but he still wanted to try. All he needed to do was get close to Michael; springlocks didn't do well when shocked.
But when the trapdoor was opened, the basement was still strangely quiet. There wasn't even so much as the smallest shuffle coming from the basement. Taking a deep breath, Scott started to step down. Charlie tried to follow alongside him, but he reached out an arm to block her and silently moved ahead. His grip tightened on the taser as his hands shook from stress. He slowly crept down the stairs and then cautiously leaned to look inside the basement room. His fear came back tenfold as he saw what waited inside.
Springtrap was nowhere to be seen and the room had been nearly trashed. It was almost unnoticeable when compared to the heavy dresser that had moved out from the wall beside the stairs, revealing a hatch that had been hidden underneath it. A hatch that matched the ones Ennard had mentioned and Marionette had described from Henry's house. From the lack of noise coming from inside, there was no doubt that the springlock animatronic was long gone.
"Scott?" Charlie whispered over from the stairs. He shook his head slowly. "What?"
"He's gone," Scott choked. He swallowed thickly as she rushed over to look inside. She saw the hatch just as he had and knew exactly what it meant. "He's already gone…"
They both had a feeling that Springtrap wasn't finished.