The Marionette watched the crane on its music box unwind in a hypnotic fashion. It'd go and kill those night guards as soon as the music was over. It was just so soothing, and endless.
Like our torture, The Marionette thought grimly, singing a bit with the music, ignoring the giggling of Pesky BB somewhere in the pizzeria.
Ninety years without slumbering, tick-tick-tick-tick, it sang. His life's seconds numbering, tick-tick-tick-tick, then it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.
For a short moment, it was silent. Then the grinding of the contraption's gears pierced through the quiet atmosphere, and the sad song began again.
"That's the only part you know?" BB asked. "The song is very sad. How do you find it pretty and catchy at all?"
The Marionette glanced quickly at the boy with its white pinpoints of eyes. Well, of course it is the only verse I know. I have no proper means of getting the rest, being trapped in a pizza parlor gift box all of my afterlife.
BB stared at The Marionette's black eyes with his blue ones. He quietly replied, "You ghosts are weird."
The Marionette watched BB leave it alone again, with the melancholy of the music box echoing in the empty room.
Freddy leaped on top of Bonnie.
"GIMME BACK MY MIC!" he screeched in a voice that would cause even the bravest of adults to cry.
Bonnie held up Freddy's old prop high into the air, causing the cheap ceiling tiles to shift. He hissed, "RETURN MY GUITAR FIRST, BEAR-O!"
"I'M TELLING YOU BONNIE, I DON'T HAVE IT!" the bear shouted, his eyes black with small white dots..
"OH REALLY?" The faceless purple thing actually seemed to be glaring. "WHAT ABOUT WHEN WE WERE CHILDREN? HUH? YOU ALWAYS STOLE MY CANDY!"
Freddy growled, "ALL YOU COULD EAT WAS HEALTHY FOOD, ANYWAY!"
"Boys, boys!" Chica chirped. She pulled them apart and they glared at her like she was the opponent instead. "That was in the past! Calm down! Bonnie, I am certain Freddy couldn't have taken your guitar. Give him back his mic and we'll hunt for your prop. Maybe the night watch man took it!"
Both animatronics smiled at the thought and raced each other to the office. Chica giggled at her plan. Being the only girl, she took it upon herself to take care of everyone like a mother.
Like a mother, she thought sadly to herself.
Foxy dazed into the backstage. "Tha' was you, trickin' 'em?"
Chica nodded haughtily. When she saw how Foxy was lumbering about, she smiled. "You look like a drunk, Foxy!"
"Nev'mind tha', this faulty system is sensitive t' light. An'way, a' overheard ya an' stole back Bonnie's g'tar from his Toy an' put it in Jeremy's office."
Chica gave him a fistful of wires as a replacement for a thumbs-up. Foxy gave a goofy, toothy grin with his rusted snout.
She asked, "What time is it? You know my system has no clock."
"One fifty-seven," he replied in a vague tone.
They both gave a robotic sigh.
Jeremy yelped as a faceless bunny appeared at his door. He didn't dare twitch. The bunny snatched up the plastic guitar someone had left behind in the office and, keeping his red dot eyes on the security guard, backed out of the room.
He sighed with relief. Winding up the music box, he scanned through the camera feeds. The Mangle was in the Main Hall. Foxy and Chica sat in the Parts Room. The rest were scattered about the Party Rooms, not including the black figure in a gift box in the Prize Corner.
Everything was okay. For now.
He sat in the hallway, waiting happily. Freedom! Free from his prison of a costume, free from everything. And yet, something wasn't right.
He was alone.
Hours were left until his friends could follow. Until six AM, he had nothing to do. Unless. . .
The boy smiled. Maybe it would be more fun to torture the night watch like this. Of course!
He crept quietly into the office, unseen by Jeremy, who was gazing into the monitor. Then he stood silently in the corner, awaiting discovery patiently with an evil smile.
Jeremy screamed so loud he lost his voice. Before the man was a literally shadowy figure of Bonnie, but neither Bonnie was pure darkness, with glowing white dot eyes and teeth. A child's giggle resonated through the room.
Jeremy tried screaming again, but he had thrown out his voice seconds ago. He put up the mask and flickered the flashlight. Nothing.
He braced himself, hoping his end would be quick. Nothing happened.
Opening an eye, he saw. . . Nothing. Shadow-thing wasn't there.
Jeremy huffed a muted sigh of relief. He picked up the tablet, the object suddenly heavier than before.
2:07 AM. . . Three hours and fifty-three minutes remaining of this cruddy job.
The Marionette watched the crane on his infamously favorite toy, deciding to be a Jack-in-the-Box. He found it appropriate, but could never get the timing right. It was never ending.
The depressing tune seemed to be speeding up, and clanked more than ever.
The Marionette was expecting someone, but no one was appearing. It began to call out, but an earth-shattering scream cut it off.
Well, now it knew where number five was.
"Ronnie!"
"Chelsea!"
"Luke!"
"Derek! Willy!"
"We're fine! Are you?"
"Yeah. . . But it's dark, Derek. I'm scared of the dark."
"Don't be scared! Golden Freddy will come back and show us a tour!"
"What is a tour?"
"I know, but it is hard to describe. . . Like show-and-tell."
"Okay!"
A scream pierced the darkness.
"Chelsea! Are you there?"
No answer.
More screaming.
"Luke? Ronnie?"
Silence.
More screeching and nothing but sobbing could be heard.
"Derek. . ."
The final scream was remembered by the ghostly boy for years to come.