The man had to find a way to keep his secret sealed up. A pile of ash outside the building would not do him any good, so he went up to the roof of the pizzeria. He had gathered the ashes into a container, and was going to empty the ashes into the wind. But his supervisor, called "Guy" by people, noticed him on the roof.
"Hey! What are you doing up there?" Guy yelled from the ground.
"I'm cleaning the gutters." the man replied.
"Uh, well, be careful up there." Guy said. But before he went back into the pizzeria, he had one more thing to say. "Hey, some kids apparently went missing in the pizzeria. We've looked around, but we can't seem to find them. Their parents are ticked. Have you seen anything, um, unusual happen?"
"Nope, don't think I do." the man replied.
"Tell me if you do, then." Guy said, and walked back into the pizzeria.
After he was sure no one was watching, he opened the container and let the wind take the ashes. Then he went down the ladder he had brought and went back in. He found the staff examining the old animatronics. "Whatcha guys doing?" he asked.
"Well, whenever we go into the break room lately we smell something." one of the other employees said. "Sorta like rotting pizza, maybe? It seems to be coming from these guys. We're gonna clean them."
In the distance, there was the sound of the prize room puppet playing Pop Goes the Weasel. The second employee swore. "What's going on?" the man asked.
"Ever since the smell started, that stupid puppet hasn't been staying in its box. Could you go wind it for us?"
"Fine, fine." he said, and headed to the prize room. The Puppet was hanging out of the box. The man went to manually wind it from the side of the box. As he did so, he had the feeling of being watched. Then the box was winded, and the Puppet was back in. He turned his back to head back to his post. But then there was a noise. He turned around, back to the Puppet. It was out of the box again.
"We won't tell anyone." a child's voice said. "We won't tell anyone." The sound seemed to be coming from the Puppet itself. And it kept repeating it, over and over. "We won't tell anyone."
"Shut up." the man said, but it kept doing it. "Shut up, shut up, shut up." He went back to the side to wind it once more. It was only then that it stopped. He sat down at one of the chairs in one of the party rooms, looking at the children. How could it do that? he wondered. It wasn't possible. It was illogical. There was no such thing as ghosts. But the Puppet had sounded just like the child he had stabbed.
The rest of the children he had aptly put into the costume he thought they most fit. The girl he put into Chica. The one who fought the most went into Foxy. The quiet one was in Bonnie. And the other child, the one who had wanted to see Freddy, was now eternally sleeping inside Freddy. The police wouldn't find them. The management thought there was rotten pizza in the suits, and were having them cleaned out.
Only death could be his punishment. If the spirits were real and not just his imagination, he was sure they would come after him. If they could possess the Puppet, he was sure they could control the animatronics. He knew they were built well enough to lift a grown man.
He was the one that came up with the whole thing, after all. Freddy was his idea, and he thought he'd become rich once everything was established. But then, the owner left him out in the cold, taking all the money for himself. Then he croaked and his son sold the place to the highest bidder, some rich brat who enjoyed the place.
He had only wanted credit where it was due. But he was no longer safe in the pizzeria. So he left. The police came to question him, and he had no alibi. They took him into custody, he was silent all during the interrogation. When it was all over, they were no further from the start. They had to release him.