"If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets." ~Haruki Murakami

I don't remember much of the following day. After Mike left, I moved around as a shadow, following different people and stopping in the night guard's office for breaks. The kids didn't seem to be bothering me, which was always worrisome especially with what happened last night. It was like after all these years I was finally getting my sea legs, so to speak. I was finally getting the handle on being dead, using my ghostly powers to influence the world around me and if I was enjoying it, the kids had to be hating it. Feeling as empowered as I did, I challenged the little hierarchy of this little establishment and went to visit Foxy.

I could hardly stomach looking at him. I was there when he came only. It didn't feel like that long ago but gazing down at the poor machine it felt like a lifetime ago. I sighed. It was a lifetime ago. I kneeled down, watching the motors move in his chest, lifting him up and down gently to mimic breathing. He was resting, no doubt forgetful of last night's adventures. I hovered my hand over his hand. I remembered when this was covered, hiding the metal skeleton. The chains they once had him wrapped in tore away his skin. His joints all bore the marks of age, missing fur and ligaments. I grinned lightly, offering a gently breeze to lower his eyepatch over his right eye again. Then I stopped, staring into the deep gash on his chest.

That night flashed across my mind. He had been at my side, always at my side. it was my fault this happened. I shut my eyes, practically seeing Ben rushing Foxy through. I could see the fur tear, metal grind. I couldn't move. I was already as good as dead. Shaking my head, I woke up from the flashback, looking up at Foxy again. Oh, how I would've loved to say something to him again. How I miss our conversations…

"What was the last thing I said…" I whispered, placing a hand on Foxy's shoulder. "My last words were for you, after all. What was it I said?" I lowered my head, handing slipping from his shoulder. "I believe in you, Foxy…"

The lights flickered outside. I heard the door open and shut, a few exchange of words. The curtains fluttered. The music stopped playing. Was it night already? I stood up quickly, leaping off the stage and nearly crashing into the table. I was hoping to join Mike in the security room before it got to late, but to my surprise, Mike was sitting at one of the tables across from the main stage. Quizzical, I wandered over and sat across from him. Out here, he was a prime target for those rascals and I wasn't about to let them get him here before his shift even really started.

"Stupid machines," Mike snarled. "Why not call this Freddy's Fuckboys…"

"Now, now, language," I chuckled. "This is a children's establishment."

"Don't give me that," snarled Mike, glancing over at me. "I can hear you, you know."

I leaned back, half shocked and half relieved. I crossed my arms, trying to act confident. Mike laughed, turning back to face me.

"You were what? Twenty-something when you died?" Mike remarked. "You look stupid!"

I frowned, then perked. "Who said I was dead?"

"The news, newspapers, the internet," shrugged Mike. "I looked you up, duh."

"What's the internet?" I whispered to myself.

"You were the mechanic that died here 27 years ago," mumbled Mike, leaning back. "You and five kids…that serial killer got."

"You know what happened to the killer?" I perked.

"Prison," shrugged Mike. "Story says he died in there."

"Ben's dead…"

"You knew him?" remarked Mike, oddly surprised.

"He was friend…" I sighed, looking away. "We worked here together. He's the reason I had that job to begin with."

"I'm sorry…" shrugged Mike. "The dude was insane though, you figured that out right?"

"A little too late, but yeah," I nodded. "Mike, you need to get the hell out of this place."

"How' you know my name?"

"Name tag. First night," I instructed. "This place is dangerous and as the nights progress its only gonna get worse."

"I survived two nights so far," smirked Mike, leaning back with arms behind his head.

"The first night you got lucky!" I snapped. "We were all…indisposed. Last night, I saved your hide!"

"Thank you…by the way," he replied.

"Tonight, they're gonna take it up a notch," I sounded like I was pleading. "Just quit!"

"I can't. I won't," grumbled Mike.

"Why?" I shouted.

"Because I need the money to the buy a ring…" sighed Mike.

"A ring?" I whispered.

Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and showed me a picture of a girl. She didn't seem like anything special to me, but the way Mike looked in the picture, I'd say she was his and they were in love. I was kind of jealous.

"Her name's Doll," he blushed. "Sweetest thing that ever happened to me."

"And you're gonna propose," I finished.

"Once I get the ring," he nodded. "I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

"Assuming you get one," I added.

"Well, I appear to have a guardian angel on my side," he grinned.

"You honestly think this is funny!?" I screamed.

"No," Mike sighed. "I'm honestly scared for my life but at least now I don't sound crazy when I tell someone these machines are fucked up! I just can't tell everyone else that I'm talking to a dead man."

"Point taken," I agreed. "This is the longest conversation I've had with a real person in 27 years."

"Is it any good?"

I shrugged.

We both stood up, heading toward the back room. It felt good to talk to someone close to my age, or at least the age I pretend to be. Mike took his seat and I sat on the counter. The game would begin soon enough.

"Has anyone else survived this far?" asked Mike.

"Some," I shrugged.

"Who was the last person to survive this far?" grinned Mike.

The phone began rining.

"The guy over the phone…I think his name was Jim."

"Did he survive all five nights?"

"Nope."

Mike's smile faded. He gulped answering the phone and preparing for the night at hand. I couldn't help but grin. For the first time in a long time, I felt happy.