A/N: Annnnd here we are! I'm planning to post the next few chapters once a month (no specific date in that month, just when I finish edits), then see where we are. That should take us into 2019, unless I go crazy and double-post one month.

Also, some of the backstory hinted at here may already be familiar to some of you guys. If you're read '1987: First-hand Witness,' then you may know where this is going. Otherwise, have fun!

(Keep in mind that the FNAF2-era-relevent stuff in this series is part of the less-than-canon elements of the story, so it's not gonna match up with the games perfectly b/c, among other things, three games and a bunch of books released between the start of this series and now. Hopefully, it's still enjoyable.)

You wanted answers.

You wanted to know what your dreams were about.

You forgot.

You didn't want to remember.

You pushed it away.

I've been watching this place for years.

And now.

I'll remind you.

I blinked several times, trying to clear my blurred vision. When I came to my senses, I realized I was standing in the security office at Freddy's. I could faintly see daylight filling the building, indicating that it was daytime.

But… That didn't make sense. I'd gone home, cleaned up, ate, and went to bed-

Oh.

That voice. I was dreaming again. That's why I was back in the office.

From down the hall, I heard two distant voices. A part of me didn't want to leave, wanted to stay in here. I wasn't exactly eager to do anything that creepy child wanted me to do.

But at the same time, the whole reason I was here was to get answers, and as much as I didn't want to listen to the demonic little shit, I definitely wanted answers.

I sighed in resignation, steeled myself, and made my way down the west hallway, pausing next to Pirate's Cove. I glanced hesitantly at the purple curtains hiding Foxy. Just a dream, I reminded myself with a shudder. Besides, if it was daylight, then the animatronics couldn't be active, I figured.

Unless… I wasn't seeing something from before the Bite of '87, was I?

Here. You can see what we saw that day.

I shivered at the voice, hunching over to hide beside Foxy's lair. It couldn't do anything to me here, right? This was a dream, and even freaky-ass hallucination kids can't hurt me in my dreams.

Right?

I shook my head. Right. Can't hurt me. I'm fine. This is all a dream.

But she said this would give me answers. This had to be more than a dream, right?

Then it's a vision. Freaky-ass hallucination kids can't hurt me in visions, either. Shut up.

Fine.

I interrupted my own internal argument, snapping back to something else the voice had said.

We?

I mean, it wouldn't surprise me to know that the source of the creepy voice had seen something important, especially if it really had been here as long as it said. But still… We? Did that mean that… That there were more like it?

God, I hoped not.

"Well, then, Mr. Phillips. I hope to see you next week." At this moment, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, two figures exit the tiny side room that Bella used as her personal office. I snapped back to attention, leaning around the base of the stage to watch. Part of me worried about being seen, but if this was simply something from the past, maybe it would just follow some kind of script?

It didn't take more than a second to identify the people-Thomas and Bella. My heart caught in my throat, and, pushing my concerns aside, I stood up straight, rounding the stage to make my way closer to the pair. Bella stood in stark contrast, her dirty-blonde hair pulled back neatly and her vest and skirt perfectly pressed and wrinkle-free, with the disheveled nightguard, a fresh bruise peeking out from under Thomas's sleeve and bags clear under his eyes, even from my fair distance.

Not only did Thomas looked awful, but Bella honestly looked… better than she did in the present. Something I hadn't noticed, not until looking at her as she was in the past, but… I'd never seen her put this much effort into her appearance. It was weird. And f Thomas was here, then this couldn't be too long ago, right?

I was snapped from my own thoughts once again, this time by Thomas speaking. "Y-yeah. Uh, got it." I glanced at him, taking a few hesitant steps towards him. He didn't react-good, they couldn't see me. I watched him turn towards the door, his hand reaching up to grab his wrist. He froze suddenly, making me pause too, but instead of turning to me, he looked back towards Bella, who was making her way back to her office. He seemed to hesitate, before take a shaky breath and speaking up. "Um, hey, B-Bella?"

I could almost hear Bella roll her eyes as she stopped, turning to face Thomas. "What is it, Phillips?"

"I-I wanted to ask something. I-"

Thomas was caught off when Bella said, "Oh, what, this something you're fine discussing out here?" A bemused smile curled on her lips, and Thomas looked away, face going red as he did. I saw his eyes trail over to the main three animatronics, standing on the stage, before Bella said, "Look, it was a joke, alright? Get over yourself."

Thomas swallowed heavily. "Heh, y-yeah. Funny…" he mumbled under his breath, a sour expression on his face. He took a deep breath, composed himself, turned to face Bella, and asked hesitantly, "D-do you remember Jeremy? From, uh, from the old place?"

Bella sighed, crossing her arms. "Yes, I remember him." To my surprise, she actually looked around herself for a moment, before closing the gap between her a Thomas in a few steps. He took a nervous step back in response. It was actually a bit impressive, how Bella managed to instill fear in a man a half-head taller than her.

Thomas fidgeted in place for a moment before asking, "Do, uh… Do you know what happened to him? A-after the bite?"

I felt a painful churning in my stomach. The bite… The Bite of '87? It had to be, right?

Bella was quiet. After a nerve-wrecking pause, she finally said, "No, I don't."

Thomas blinked in confusion. "Wh-what? B- but didn't you ever… look into it? Ask around and see what happened?"

"No, because I didn't need to know." Bella crossed her arms again. "If my father knew what happened, he never told me, and I never bothered asking. Though I can't imagine whatever happened ended well for him." It was at this point that Bella turned to leave.

Thomas stood there in shock for a moment, his mouth hanging open slightly, before he composed himself. "B-but-"

"But what?" Bella said coldly. "It doesn't matter. It happened fifteen years ago, Phillips. It doesn't matter what happened to him." She took a deep breath, dropping her arms to her sides before finishing, "Not to me."

"How can it not matter?" Thomas shook his head, his face twisted in disgust. "You knew Jeremy and-and he could be dead! Doesn't it matter to you at all?!"

"No!" Bella yelled, turning back around to face Thomas. Thomas flinched backwards at the sudden noise, and I jumped, too. My eyes darted between Bella, who stood, feet apart and hands balled into fists, and Thomas, who recoiled backwards with every toxic word thrown at him, his eyes trained on the floor. "No, it doesn't! It doesn't have any effect on me now, so why should I bother continuing to worry over it?" She told a few steps towards Thomas. "Unlike you, I have some sense, some idea of how to do what I want to-what I need to-and it doesn't involve staying hung up on people that don't matter." She turned, preparing to storm out of the room.

"L-like your employees, huh?"

Thomas's words were quiet, but potent. Bella froze in place, then turned, opening her mouth to speak, but Thomas cut her off. "Y-you don't care what happens to me, or anyone else who works here, do you?" His voice began to shake as he continued. "A-a-are you even trying to fix those things anymore? Does that e-even matter anymore?"

He looked up from the floor, his voice rising in volume. "I-I found those files. Eighteen missing p-persons reports. Were any of them ever found?" Bella opened her mouth, but them closed it again, a scowl on her face. Thomas's eyes widened, and he barely whispered out, "They weren't. They… Th-they all died." He looked at the floor again, shaking his head as his voice rose again. "You let them all die!"

"They knew what would happen!" Bella yelled. "If they didn't quit before they died, then that's not my fault-"

"S-shut up! Don't you care? People are dead because of those damn animatronics!" Tears ran down Thomas's face as he looked back up at Bella, horror and rage etched into his face.

"And it could be worse!" She crossed her arms. "You're lucky I'm letting you go before you get killed. I never thought someone as stupid as you would catch on."

"You think I want this? You think I wanted to work here?! That I didn't figure it out!?" Thomas paused to catch his breath, his whole body shaking.

"Well, why else would you have stayed, dumbass?" If Bella felt any pity, any remorse, anything at all, she was doing a hell of a job at hiding it.

"Because, unlike you, I actually care when people get hurt!" Thomas waved his arms. "Unlike you, I have people I care about; people I have to take care of!" Thomas balled his fists, and nearly growled out his next sentence. "Not that you would understand that."

Bella stared in shock, then snarled, "Get. Out. Finish this week, and I never want to see your face in here again." She turned, quickly walking into her office.

Thomas stood in silence, breathing hard. One hand raised slowly over his mouth, and a quiet sob slipped from his throat. He stumbled backwards, as though the force of the conversation had thrown him off-balance. Tears started to leak from his eyes again.

I hesitantly walked towards him, reaching one hand out in a vain attempt to comfort him. It didn't matter; he couldn't see me, and even if he could… "Thomas?"

Suddenly, Thomas yelled, slamming both fists into a nearby wall, causing me to flinch backwards. He leaned into it, resting his forehead on his arms, sobs shaking his body. I could only watch, a pang in my chest, as he broke down.

"I… I'm going to die here…" He whimpered. "I'm going to die, and there's nothing I can do…" He stood like this for a moment, before I could faintly see his eyes light up. He stood up, his face set in determination. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the security office. "Maybe… j-just maybe…"

He muttered to himself as I followed him to the office. I watched him grab a pad of paper and start scribbling notes, eyes flitting around the office as he did. After a bit, he looked down and shook his head. "Agh, n-no, nobody's gonna be able to read this…" He looked up at the phone mounted on the wall, the one that couldn't place calls but could be used to record messages, and, suddenly, everything made just a little more sense to me.

He looked down at the notes in his hand, then at a small framed photograph sitting on the desk. In my panic and confusion earlier, I hadn't seen it. The photo showed Thomas, standing by a woman. The two looked to be holding hands and smiling, Thomas more happy than I'd ever seen him.

Before I could get a better look, Thomas removed the photo from its frame. He stared down at it, before folding it and tucking it into his vest pocket. "I'll try, Carmen, I-I promise," he muttered, and it was at this point that my vision began to blur and fade. "I-I won't leave you alone."

The old location.

After the Bite.

The Bite of '87.

My hands shook as I struggled to type those four words. I'd always been afraid to ask about it. I'd thought that, maybe, I just didn't want to know what happened.

But after that dream, I knew I had to.

My dreams, those visions I'd seen in the office, and the Bite of '87 were all connected somehow. And maybe, if I did some digging, I could get the answers I wanted.

Well, the answers I needed, at least. By no means did I want to know what happened, but… I needed to find out. I needed to know why I saw what I saw in the office, and… and now I needed to know what happened that day.

Strangely, the first page to pop up wasn't a news article, but an internet forum thread. It looked like some kind of page for local urban legends. Maybe it was just more recent than any new articles? Or, knowing Freddy's, they'd managed to minimize reporting on the incident. Either way, I clicked the link and began reading the post.

Topic: bite of '87? wtf?

ObliviousWallaby: hey, so some guys in my school keep talking about this thing called the bite of 87, and I was wondering if anybody hear knew about it? I've never heard of it, and I thought this mite be faster then trying to research it. I'l look it up if I have to, but this should be faster.

Cobrawl: Yeah, actually, I've heard of that! It's kinda werid you haven't, but if you're in school, then you were probably rlly little when it happened, so, hey, good 4 u! :P

Anyways, you know that Freddy Fazbear's place (with the naimatronics) that reopened recently? Back at the old location, one of the employeess got part of his brain bit off by one of the animatronics (I think it ewas the frontal lobe?). Don't rmember who did it, though.

Z-Horse44: Do you remember how they had those weird 'Toy' animatronics back then? It was the Toy version of Foxy the Pirate Fox, though I think I heard that the employees just called it 'Mangle.' The victim was one of the security guards. They were closing down anyway, because of the missing kids, but they stayed open for one more party, but then Toy Foxy/Mangle attacked.

(Fun fact: I don't know how true this is, but I've heard rumors that the intended victim was one of the kids at the party, but the guard pushed him/her out of the way.)

My stomach churned as I read the top three posts. There might have been more info further down in the thread, but it didn't matter. This was enough for me, I didn't need to read any more. I didn't want to read any more.

I turned away, resting my elbows on the desk and putting my head in my hands, trying to steady my breathing. That thing I'd seen in the office… was that Mangle? It did kind of look like a fancier, torn-apart version of Foxy. Did that mean…

Had I been dreaming of the Bite this whole time?

It made a sick kind of sense, really. My dream… It kind of seemed to resemble what I'd imagined the Bite was like. But that wasn't possible. How would I have known for so long?

"Look out!"

My breath caught in my throat, and I jerked upright. I… I remembered that. A voice. A voice that would cry out, every time I had that dream, before Mangle would attack.

Not possible. I would remember, right? It's not like I could've repressed it or something, right?

The young man fell to the ground in front of me. Blood dripped from Toy Foxy's jaws.

Shit.

I counted backwards, my heart pounding. The Bite of '87, that would be fifteen years ago, I would've been eight…

I don't know how true this is, but I've heard rumors that the intended victim was one of the kids at the party, but the guard pushed him/her out of the way.

It was real. This whole time, it was real and I didn't know it was real it wasrealITWASREAL-

He pulled me out of the way.

I could've died.

I took a deep breath, trying to slow my thoughts enough to make sense of them. I wiped my eyes with my shirt, trying to fight the tears that threatened to slip over. Reluctantly, I pushed myself to my feet. My head pounded, and I was shaking. Water, I thought faintly. I need water. Don't ask how I thought water would help ease the realization that I'd witnessed a man get lobotomized by an animatronic, but somewhere in my daze, I'd figured that it would at least help my body.

I stumbled into the kitchen, pulling a glass out of the cabinet. I filled it from the sink and took a sip. Leaning against the counter, I clung to the glass in one hand and massaged my forehead with the other. Taking a few more gulps of air, I tried to make sense of it.

Hadn't my mother said it was just a dream?

Yeah, probably just because it was easier for her than taking you to therapy.

I thought back to the first morning after I'd had the nightmare. I'd stumbled downstairs, where my older sister and mother sat at the dining room table.

"Michael, watch your step. You nearly bumped into me," my mother scolded.

"'m sorry, Mom."

"Why are you acting so weird?" my sister asked.

"I… I had a nightmare. 'bout Freddy's."

My sister made a face, but before she could say anything, Mother cut her off, saying, "Well, no matter."

All this time. All this fucking time, and I'd never known the truth.

I faintly heard the clock in my bedroom beep. Time to get ready for work. I sighed, pushing myself away from the counter.

I'd live through tonight, the same way I'd somehow survived fifteen years ago. And once the clock struck six, I'd ask Thomas what he knew about the Bite of '87.