A30 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT ONE IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS

[The tape rolls into motion, and the interrogation room appears. Antonio Benedicto sits staring at his shoes, not meeting the interrogator's eyes. It's the slick-haired Czech man again; he is paging through medical records, licking his thumb as he goes.]

"It'll be easier for everyone if you're honest, Antonio."

"I have been."

"You have a history with this company, don't you?"

[Antonio's eyes widen, almost imperceptibly. Clearly he wasn't expecting that information to be found.]

"Those records were sealed. How did you get them?"

"Do you want to tell me what happened at your birthday party?"

"I – I don't –"

"You were attacked by an animatronic when you were a child, at the original location – before the franchising, before Jason Quincey. Your therapist believes it caused your PTSD. You've described nightmares full of teeth, and eyes."

[Antonio closes his eyes.]

"It was a long time ago."

"You didn't think that was worth mentioning, in a case about children being stuffed into animatronics?"

"I didn't – I have a hard time talking about it. It's not relevant. It's not."

"Tell me about it."

"No."

"Antonio, it's in your best interest to cooperate. You don't want to keep being a suspect, do you? Tell us everything you know about Fazbear Entertainment and you can walk out of here a free man."

[Antonio visibly struggles with himself.]

"It was… a freak accident. Just some stupid bullying kids…"

"How old were you at the time?"

"Five. It was my fifth birthday." [He swallows, mustering his courage.] "I was bullied a lot, as a kid. There were some boys at school who used to make fun of me, call me names. They made fun of my accent, pretended I was a mobster come to arrest them. Do you know how many 'It's-a me, Mario!' jokes I've heard in my lifetime?"

"Plenty, I imagine."

"Dad made me invite them to my party anyway. They'd never been my friends, but that day, they went too far. They lifted me up and brought me up to the stage, where the robots were performing. Thought it'd be fun for me to give Fredbear a kiss."

"That was the name of the old animatronic, correct? Before the diner was bought out?"

"Yes." [He shakes his head tiredly.] "Good old Fredbear. His servos had been acting up, but it wasn't until that day… they said it was an electrical malfunction. A tragic accident that was no one's fault. No one could have stopped it."

"You don't believe that."

"No. Of course I don't fucking believe it. You think I believe that horseshit?" [He pulls down the neck of his jacket, and for the first time we see the faint bite scars on his neck, lines of teeth marks.] "That fucking robot left me with all kinds of scars. I haven't had a sound sleep since."

[The interrogator looks at the marks silently.]

[He utters a loud, humorless laugh.] "Is it any wonder I'm crazy if this is what I remember about the place?"

"Why did you work there as an adult, then? I'd think you would avoid it."

"I don't know." [He tugs his collar back up.] "Sadistic of me, to put myself anywhere near those robots after what happened, but… I learned when I was little that they couldn't be trusted. That no one could be trusted. Maybe part of me wanted to keep those robots from hurting anyone else." [He smiles wearily.] "I never could have imagined I'd get involved in another Fazbear scandal. I told myself it would be just another job, and I could use it to forget what happened there. But here we are."

"Here we are." [Quietly, thoughtfully.] "You know Jason Quincey has been trying to discount your testimony."

"Let him try. I've got plenty more to say, and I'm not shutting up anytime soon." [He looks defiantly at the camera.] "Fazbear Entertainment has a lot to hide. And I'm here to pull back the curtain."

A31 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT FOUR IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS

[The interrogation room. Karl Borsovich sits with a lit cigarette in hand; the interrogator has apparently given up on trying to stop him from smoking. He takes a long puff, blowing out smoke.]

"Why am I still here? I've told you what I know."

"Not everything, Mr. Borsovich." [The interrogator folds her hands, studying him.] "How did you know?"

"Pardon?"

"You knew how to open up the animatronics. According to Quincey and his engineers, that's a highly complex procedure, involving precise, specific knowledge of the machinery. Yet you knew how to do it right away, and did it quickly enough that Jason Quincey had barely walked back into the room when you popped Freddy open."

"I know machines." [He takes a drag off his cigarette, but his eyes never leave hers; there is a new edge in his voice.] "All kinds of them. How is this relevant?"

"You must have been familiar with the animatronics, or at least their general design. Are you sure you have no prior history with this company?"

[His eyes glitter as he studies her.] "Very sure."

"So you don't know anything about Fazbear Entertainment, or their history. Nothing beyond what Quincey told you."

"No."

"I want you to word this very carefully, Mr. Borsovich. You have no prior history with the Fazbear brand or its animatronics whatsoever?"

"None."

"I see." [Her voice goes cool.] "Why did you lie about having children, then?"

[He stiffens.]

"I thought so."

"Listen…" [He takes a puff of his cigarette, and now we can see his hands shaking.] "When I said I had no history with the company… that may have been a slight exaggeration."

"Of course it was."

"Don't read me the file. Please."

"Either I read the file, or you tell me. Someone has to say it."

[He closes his eyes, obviously in great pain.]

"…My daughter was a beautiful little girl. Her mother didn't let me see her very often – divorce, you understand. A very rough divorce at that. We… fought a lot, but she gave me one good thing in our marriage, and that was my little girl."

"What was her name?"

"Cecilia." [He lights another cigarette; his hands are shaking so badly he can barely raise it to his mouth for a draw.] "She was beautiful. My everything. I took every visitation chance I had to see her. She was my little angel."

"What happened that day?"

"It was three years ago. Her mother took her to another kid's party, at the place in Illinois. I wish I could have been there, to stop her, to keep an eye on her, something…" [He grimaces.] "It still tears me up inside, that I wasn't there. I needed to be there."

"She went outside the restaurant."

"Yes. No one knows why. She was such a bright kid – maybe she saw something outside and went to take a better look. Who knows. The cameras caught the dark car pulling up to her, and a man in a coat and mask got out and dragged her inside…" [He grits his teeth.] "I lost her that day. My little angel went to heaven."

"You were a suspect for quite some time."

"The estranged husband." [He barks out a laugh.] "Of course I was the prime suspect. I was the easy answer. But it wasn't me – I can promise you that. The madman up there who calls himself God, he knows it wasn't me."

"Did they ever find the perpetrator?"

"No. It was just one of the Fazbear cold cases." [He looks for somewhere to throw his cigarette, and the interrogator reaches under the table and emerges with an ashtray, pushing it towards him. He drops the cigarette into it, brushes ash off his oil-stained fingers, and rummages in his pocket for a fresh one.] "One of those unsolved, nasty little Fazbear murders that no one cared about. The police investigation was pathetic. They closed it with no suspects faster than you could say cover-up." [He takes out a new cigarette and lights it up with a quick, practiced motion; it's clear now that this is a frequent habit.] "I knew something was fishy, but what could I do? I was the divorcee with a Russian accent and a nicotine problem. The police didn't treat me like a grieving father, they treated me like a fucking Soviet spy."

"You think it was a cover-up, then."

"Of course I do." [He takes a slow pull from the cigarette, closing his eyes.] "Fazbear Entertainment shoved it under the rug like a burning bag of shit, and tried to make everyone forget about it. But I can't forget. I won't ever forget."

"Was Jason Quincey the manager at that location?"

"No. It was some other guy. Forget his name now."

"It might be important. Can you try to remember?"

[His brow furrows.] "I think it was Todd, or Trevor, or something. Something with a T."

"Thank you. That's helpful." [She makes a note.] "Did you become familiar with the animatronics through that event?"

"After it happened, I spent months studying that place, trying to figure out what happened. How this could have happened. You could say I was an amateur detective. I learned a lot about the robots in that process." [He coughs.] "I suspected he might have… hidden her… the way these kids were found…"

"But he didn't."

"No. They – they never found her."

"So it wasn't a murder."

"It was a murder." [He crushes his cigarette against the table.] "It was a murder, and don't you fucking forget it."

[He exhales slowly.]

"I sure as hell can't."

B19 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS

[The camera sits on the desk as Jane and Eddie recline in their chairs, pondering what they've just heard from the second round of interrogations. Eddie finally speaks, slowly.]

"This case just got a lot more interesting."

"Well, we've certainly learned more about two of our suspects." [Jane closes her eyes.] "One of them was attacked by an animatronic as a child, and is paranoid about them as a result. The other lost his daughter to a Fazbear killer three years ago, maybe the same one we're after. We've got some history here after all."

"My question is, why didn't this come out in the first round of interrogations? Obviously these were significant events in their lives."

"Trauma does strange things to people. Antonio reacted by trying to block out the memory, locking his demons away. Karl reacted by taking up smoking and turning his emotions off. Obviously neither of them wanted their real history with Fazbear to emerge in this investigation, but I don't think it's because they're the killers trying to hide their motives. I think they just didn't want to remember."

"But I don't get it. Why would Antonio keep working at a place when he has such a terrible history with it? And why would Karl go in to look at animatronics at the place his daughter was murdered?"

"I don't know about Antonio, but I think Karl wanted to catch them doing something wrong. He wanted to get revenge on the company that wronged him… oh. Hm." [Jane looks intrigued; an idea has suddenly occurred to her.] "That's a pretty strong motive for uncovering some hidden bodies, wouldn't you say?"

"You're not suggesting he put them there."

"All I'm saying is, he hid something in the interrogation, and that something is a very powerful motive. That makes me suspicious of what else he could be keeping from us. We need to question him further. And did you get Lockwood in yet?"

"About that…"

[Jane hears the hesitation in his voice, and raises an eyebrow.] "Dead?"

"No, but he might as well have been. When I sent the patrol to pick him up, he barricaded himself in his flat screaming about demons and ghosts."

"Oh, dear. He's one of the crazy ones." [Jane sighs.] "Well, crazy or not, we need his testimony. Bring him in kicking and screaming if you must, but bring him in nonetheless. Get someone on it."

"Yes, ma'am." [He opens his laptop and starts typing.] "Any news on cause of death?"

[Jane blows out a breath.] "I know you've got kids. If you don't want to hear…"

"I can handle it. I went through the academy, for God's sakes."

"Stabbing. All of them. They bled out."

[He makes a small, broken sound.]

"If you want to go home and see your family –"

"It's fine." [He takes a steadying breath.] "I should be desensitized to this now, but when it's with kids… I'll hug them extra hard when I get back. Same as I did on the Jensen case and the Whitecastle murders."

[Jane reaches to pat his shoulder.] "We'll catch him, Eddie. I'll see that bastard in the electric chair if it's the last thing I do."

"I think that's called tempting fate, Detective."

"Fate doesn't care about me. It doesn't care about anyone." [She closes her eyes.] "I'm a Catholic, for crying out loud, and yet I can't help thinking that Karl Borsovich is on to something. What kind of God could allow something like this to happen?"

"I don't know." [Eddie reaches to turn the camera off.] "But he's got a lot of explaining to do."

[There's a soft click, and the picture fades away into darkness.]

C2 – INCIDENT FILE #817429

Location: Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Location #42, franchisee Jason Quincey

Date: February 27th, 19XX

Description: Animatronic "Foxy" malfunctioned onstage and frightened five children. No one was physically harmed, but the parents of one child requested the filing of a report and sought compensation for emotional damages.

Verdict: Blame was not definitively determined. Franchisee Jason Quincey settled with the afflicted family members quietly for an undisclosed sum, and agreed to retire the Foxy animatronic until further notice, promising to repair the animatronic and make a thorough examination to determine the cause of the malfunction. Follow-up was not made to determine if promise was kept, and a final cause or statement on the incident was never released by the Fazbear corporation. The incident is considered minor enough to close until further notice.

Reported and signed by: Chief Inspector Markus Diekever

Date of signing: March 4th, 19XX

Incident status: Closed