Ring! Ring!

Clay grumbled before turning over in bed. While he did, he heard his wife moan. He reached over onto his nightstand and eventually found the phone. He pulled it off the receiver and heard the cords one by one knock against it as he pulled over his left ear. God, it was the middle of the night. Who was it?!

"Hello?" He grumbled.

"Chief Clay?"

"Yes."

"Chief we found something."

"What?"

"Sir, we went to each of their hotel rooms and-"

"It's about damn time. I wanted their stuff over here around 5."

"Sorry sir, things came up. But we went to the room that belonged to uh... Jessica and Charlie. And we found something."

"Well spit it out!"

"The door was unlocked when we got there." There was pause. Clay's eyes widen and he felt his heart drop.

"What did you find?"

"Sir, all of Charlie's belongs were taken. We're currently trying to find any fingerprints, but it seems the culprit used gloves sir."

Clay sat up in bed. William! That damn bastard, he took all her stuff. Probably for Charlie wherever he was keeping. But wait, if he did, then that means, Charlie's still alive! He wouldn't have taken her stuff for no reason. Relief washed over him.

"Sir?" Oh, he almost forgot.

"Listen, I want you try and find anything you can. Debris, hair, cotton, footprints. Anything, that might lead us closer to catching him. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Keep me posted, I've decided I'm gonna come in tomorrow."

"Will do sir."

Clay hung up the phone, before he laid back in bed and blinked. It took a few seconds before an air of happiness rose up in him. There might actually be a chance to catch that son of a bitch. He can finally put an end to Afton's crimes. Clay will make sure he never hurts another soul again. No matter how long it takes. He looked over to his wife. Betty was turned away from him on her side. Her long blonde thick hair, tangled and messy. Her hair's thickness, is certainly where their son got it from. He smiled, before he reached over and set his alarm. He proceeded to wrap his arms around his spouse. She let out a light moan of happiness. Looks he gonna have to leave the kids on their own for a bit. He hoped they wouldn't try to go after William themselves.

6 a.m. had rolled around Clay was already up, dressed, and ready to go. There was one last thing he needed to do before he left. He walked up to his son's door and could hear his loud snoring from outside his room. Clay smiled. That was his boy alright. He opened the door and quietly walked over to the bed. John and Lamar slept on the floor in sleeping bags. He made sure not accidently kick them. He finally approached his son and leaned over him. He focused on his son's face. He saw the freckles across his nose and looked at the top of his head at his messy orange curls. He smiled again. Before trying to wake him up.

"Carlton," he whispered. "Carlton." He poked his cheek. It wasn't working, he needs to say something that's familiar to him.

"My little Curly Carly," he muttered with smile, barely keeping back giggles. He hasn't called him that in years. His son's eyes open a bit.

"Dad..." Carlton whispered in a small voice.

"Carlton, listen. I've changed my plans. I'm going into work today, ok." Carlton was fighting his sleep.

"Ok..." He responded.

"Now Carlton, I don't want you or any of the others to try to get into any trouble. Don't you guys go after William ok?" He muttered sternly.

"Ok dad..."

"Good. I love you son." Clay leaned down and kissed his son's forehead. "Be good." Carlton had already dosed back asleep. He stifled a laugh and lightly messed with his curls. He leaned back up and left the room. Ready to go on the hunt.

Charlie began regaining consciousness. She almost didn't want to wake up, she was so tired, and she felt so warm, so comfortable. She felt herself laying on her side and- Wait, that wasn't right! She shouldn't be able to turn over in her binds. She realized her wrists didn't feel strangled or pulled by anything. Her wrists weren't bond?! Her eyes flipped wide open, she found herself faced with the wall. She really was on her side. Realization hit her hard, her wrists weren't bond to sides of the bed. A spark of happiness flared up inside her. She moved, only to realize that something was pressed against her back. Her heart sank. She felt a weight over her torso. She looked down, and saw that there was an arm draped over her hip. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was Dave. He was snuggled up to her. It felt, so... wrong and gross to even use the word 'snuggled'. When it came to Dave, those innocent words were turned into something unsettling.

Why was he, 'snuggling' with her in bed? Her throat tightened as her mind immediately went to the worse possibility. No! She thought. That was last thing she would ever want to imagine. She let out a deep breath. Maybe, she could use this opportunity to run. Maybe, he was a heavy sleeper, and if she was careful enough she could slip away without him waking up. Maybe.

Should she risk it? Her mind sat on this for what felt like a minute straight. Finally, she decided it was now or never. She moved her right hand down and lightly wrapped her fingers around his wrist, before lifting it up. She got it up pretty far before the arm immediately pulled down pressing against her stomach tightly. She let out a squeak as his other arm slipped under her and coiled up around her chest. Dave released what sounded like a groggy predatorial groan. Before swinging Charlie on top of him and sitting up.

"Trying to get away already," he said disoriented. He lightly smacked his lips and moaned, obviously still waking up. She didn't dare answer him. Her heart was pounding and she felt her blood rushing. What was he going to do? After a couple seconds, the hand around her gut moved up to his face and wiped his eyes before his sniffed loudly.

"Ahhh," he sighed. His arm wrapped around her again. And he looked over to the digital clock on the table.

"11:30 already," he said in disbelief. "Well then again, I was up pretty late last night." He let out another groan. "And of course, I'm getting hit with hangover, and a splitting headache…" He grumbled. Hangover? Had he been drunk? She thought.

She suddenly felt him press his face against the back of her head, burying himself deep into her hair. Before heavily breathing it in. She wanted to feel grossed out, but something told her that this wasn't the weirdest thing he was going to do to her while she was stuck with him. He pulled back and let out all the air.

"Morning, Charlie," he said and putting on a smile. "You're going to make a run for it, huh?" She didn't answer. He stifled a laugh.

"Well, it's not going to work," he said straightening up his posture. "It doesn't matter if I'm awake or asleep, you're not going to escape."

"And even on the off chance that you do. You won't get far before I catch you," he said pressing his face against her head again.

"I'm never letting you go Charlie," he murmured, inching towards her ear. "You're stuck here with me, forever." He whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver and clench her eyes shut. She could just feel him smile. He laughed softly.

"After all, you thought you could just kill me and that'd be the end of it, right?" he said hugging her tighter and closer to him.

"You thought, that I would just cease to exist after you and your friends ran off. You brought justice and you left. Never to speak to each other again. To leave Hurricane and move on with your lives."

"It was not going to end like that," he said. "Not when I have the ability to change things." He rubbed his face up on the side of her head. She seethed, at the feeling of whiskers and oily skin, rubbing through her hair. Charlie could tell that he was being rather passive aggressive, not only that, but he was no longer respecting her personal space. He wasn't happy and gleeful like the innocent child from yesterday. He was somber and vindictive. The same way he was back at the restaurant. Only showing gleefulness when he was in costume. She was right, he still was just as insane and unpredictable.

If he was having a hangover that obviously meant he had been drinking last night. That's right, she remembered him saying he was going out for a drink. But obviously, he had a little too much. Did alcohol cause this change? Most likely. He looked like the type of guy who would smoke, drink, and possibly do drugs. But he hadn't been doing any of the while she's been here. And he had been joyful. She did this to him. She hurt him, and he got drunk because of it. But if he drunk last night, that means it's still in his system. Trying to work its way through. Which would explain his more aggressive behavior and speech. The headache too was probably contributing to it. It was all causing him to be more grouchy. To say things he wouldn't have before. He broke through her thoughts.

"You know Charlie, I could've just killed you," he said. "I could've stuck in a suit just like Carlton. I could've let you feel the same pain I did." "Letting all those metal parts, puncture your body. Tearing open your flesh and muscles. Not stopping, not holding anything back, while it pushes through your ribs, into your torso and punctures all of your organs. You'd be screaming in agony, feeling it tear you apart. You'll want it to stop but it won't. You're vocal cords will be severed, so you can't scream. You'll want to but you can't. No way to call out for help to anyone. You'll just writhe there in indescribable pain as you choke on your own blood."

Charlie's stomach was tightened up like a knot, to the point where she felt like she was going to vomit. Her neck was also tightened constricting her air flow, the blood was draining from her face, and sweat was beading off of her. Her eyes were wide open now, staring down at her legs. Which were in-between his. All she could think about is watching that same horror in front of her.

She remembered reaching into the neck of the suit and setting off the spring locks. In her mind, it was to finally put an end to a horrible man, no, a psychopathic monster. All the lives he took. Sammy, Michael, those kids, and hell even her own father, though indirectly. Not only that but all the people it affected. The families, the friends, the bystanders. He hurt so many people. And he took it a step further, when she learned that he was keeping his victims souls trapped there in the pizzeria, to eternally suffer. Never letting them move on.

In her mind she was putting an end to all of that. But the scene that had played out before her still greatly disturbed her. Watching him scream and fall backwards. Him, lying on the floor as the snapping sounds of the springlocks and tearing flesh overlapped each other. His body in the suit was spazzing out, while blood spurted out from the openings. Soaking the matted fur with it. His screams cut off abruptly and was replaced by gurgling. She saw his intestines slip out from under the torso of the suit. She remembered it all. Still clear as day. She remembered how her eyes were wide then too. She quickly back away from him, but couldn't take her eyes off of it. It was a horrifying scene.

Charlie clenched her eyes shut remembering it. She felt tears begin to rise up, she was being overwhelmed with all these memories.

"You're remembering what you did huh?" he said more as a statement than a question. "Good, I want you to remember what you did for the rest of your life." He spat. She flinched as his arm around her gut moved as his hand reached up and stroked her face. She thought he was going to hit her or something.

"Though, that kind of punishment, it would be too easy for you, too quick." He said. Her eyes widen, as tears began threatening to run down her face. What did he mean too easy?! She thought in disbelief.

"No, I don't think death is not a suitable punishment for you. Especially with all the emotional trauma you already have," he said "Death isn't enough. Death is a passing blank to you. In your mind, there is nothing to live for other than your friends and maybe Jen, your Aunt. (The way he said her name made it sound like he brought up a sore spot in his memories). Dying might be painful, but it's not suitable. Instead, living the rest of your life with me, the man who essentially ruined your life, seems good enough. But it makes it a lot better with what you mean to me." She couldn't hold them back anymore, the tears were quickly streaming down her face. They landed on his fingers as he stroked her. He pulled away and looked.

"Are you.. crying?" he asked. There was a brief silence. His sensibility was trying to set in and he drew back. But before he could try to control himself, the alcohol kicked it out. He would've normally found it awful. He never wanted to see her cry, he wanted her to be happy. So he could be happy. So they could happy together. But now, in his drunken delusions, he found it oddly… amusing. He blinked, some old memories slightly peaked above the surface and Dave tried to recall what they were. He sort of remembered but it was hard to recall. Memories of Henry's mournfulness, that he had seemed to have forgotten.

"Oh Charlie..." He said, sounding sad, before doing a complete 180. "I thought you would've lasted longer than that. Always acting so tough and stoic. Well, I will say this. You're more tough and stoic than he was." She knew who he was referring to. It felt like he was mocking her father's weakness, in the dark times that Dave had brought upon him.

To caught up in thought, Charlie was unaware of what Dave was doing. He had licked the tears off of his fingers, before he turned her head to look at him. He grinned and leaned forward. She closed her eyes instinctively as he started licking long strokes from her chin up to her eyes. Her eyelids flinched and her eyes brows curled up at the gross feeling of his wet tongue on her face. Her lips quivered. She was so confused as to why he was do this. This wasn't the same man that had emerged from the empty shell of Dave.

"I can literally taste your sorrow," he whispered, as some kind of joke. He remembered images of Henry, in those months of lamenting. He remembered just being around him, he could practically breath in the misery that Henry reeked with. It made him he feel sick. Looking back on it, he found it rather pathetic. He focused himself on her face, twisted in a face of fear and disgust. Speaking of Henry. Charlie cracked her eyes open just enough to look at him. He was looking right at her. His expression was rather solemn, like he was in deep thought.

"You know, you have his eyes," he murmured. Her eyes widened.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"Henry, your father. You have his eyes," he replied. She let it sink in. I have his eyes? She thought.

"And you have your mother's face and nose," he continued. He lightly held her cheeks and turned her face the left then to the right.

"Even your father's eyebrows," he added. "You look so much like them." He looked deep in thought. Charlie could only guess what he was thinking. The memories that peaked above the water before, the memories of Henry in his despair, submerged itself once again. As if his mind was purposefully try to hide it. Those were memories that familiar, but so far. He knew they were memories of the time leading up to his flee. But they weren't clear enough for him to remember everything. Perhaps starting back from the beginning would help him remember what happened during those times. In fact...

"Charlie, do know what they were to me?" he asked. She looked at him confused. Carlton's father, Officer Clay had told her Dave's true identity back before the reset. After he had saved them, he talked to her in private, and told her that his real name was William Afton and Clay told her that he was her father's business partner. In fact she even remembered him. One time when she was with her father in Freddy's, holding his hand. He was talking to William, she remembered how he looked. He had a big gut, was tall, unblemished skin, and often kept a big smile on his face. He looked like a Santa Claus type of guy.

When she thought about it, it made sense. When she compared of both of their faces they definitely looked alike. But she still couldn't believe that William had let himself go so much. He lost so much weight, his arms had a few brown aging spot, his skin sagged in some areas, he looked dazed half the time, his hair was filthy and unkept, face poorly shaven, eyes had dark bags, his teeth yellowed along with one of them being chipped, and the scars on his neck and body. He definitely looked different enough to the point where you couldn't recognize him.

She knew her father and him were business partners and for some reason Dave decided to kidnap her twin brother. But, what more was there?

"N-no," she whispered. He smiled, almost genuinely. He looked less hazy, more focused and balanced. Perhaps he was finally coming to his senses.

"Well," he said. "Then I think it's time to tell you a little story about the three of us, from once upon a time."