Before I begin this chapter, I want to address the lack of regular updates for this story and my 'War of Westeros' story. I won't make any excuses this time. I've allowed myself to get sidetracked and neglected to even work on my stories, both fanfics and originals. The truth is, I'm trying to get things in order in my life, and hopefully I can get into a regular schedule before this story ends. I appreciate everyone who has stuck by me since I first uploaded my Assassin's Creed story on here, and I appreciate everyone who has been patient enough to continue reading. I hope that I can bring my writing ability up to scratch in order to do these stories justice.

"Ow!" Foxy yelled, jumping back and looking at the dent marks on his wrist.

"Don't blame me," Mangle replied, exasperated, "Try a moronic move like that again and you'll end up with more than dent marks."

Freddy had disliked Mangle from the get-go. How could an animatronic, created to spread joy and kindness, be so cold, cynical and unforgiving? Then again, Freddy recalled that something had been off with those toy animtronics. It wasn't his fault, Fredddy decided. It was probably in his nature to be cold. Suddenly, he didn't feel much dislike towards Mangle anymore. He certainly wasn't how Freddy remembered him, full of death and suffering like those other plastic contraptions.

"Let's say it's Springtrap who comes after you next," Mangle was telling Foxy, "Or one of those toy animatronics. They're not going to play nice and let you recover. You need to brush it off and get back on the attack before they can get on the attack.

"Remember, Foxy, your speed is the your best ally in a fight. So use it."

Mangle lunged again, and this time Foxy ducked and let Mangle fly over him before jumping up and drop-kicking Mangle in the back. Bonnie and Chica cheered.

"Well it's a start," Mangle said, "Okay, that's enough for now. Bonnie, you're next."

"Bad news, guys," said Caleb, coming out from the office. John and Luke are in trouble."

"Where are they?" asked an alarmed Chica.

"Just outside Los Angeles," Caleb replied, "John called me from his cell phone a few minutes ago. I'm going over to rescue them."

"What's that?" Bonnie asked, pointing at the long package under Caleb's arm.

"New toy," Caleb told him, "Just hold down the place until William gets here tonight. Mangle, go easy on them."

Mangle gave a shrug. "Can you put my head in properly when you get back?" he asked, pointing at his head. The endoskeleton head refused to fit into the suit.

"Stop whining," said Caleb before leaving.

Across town, at the silent building that was once Freddy Fazbear's pizza, someone dressed in black picked the lock on the back door.

"Hurry up," one of the two men behind him hissed.

"I'm going as fast as I can, sir."

"Well go faster!"

"There," the man said, "It's open."

The door creaked open, and the last rays of sunlight gave the interior of the building a shady look."

"Thomas," the second man said, "take point."

The man with a scar running through his eye entered the building, his rifle up, flashlight on. He shone it around the chairs and tables scattered around the dining room, onto the old stage and down the hallways, and into the secret room that only a select few knew about.

"Clear," he said, and his companions followed him in. The second man peered inside.

"The rest are there," Thomas said, "Just like you said, Mr Schmidt."

Walter Schmidt looked at him and smiled.

"Good work Thomas. You've earned a raise for this."

But afterwards, he frowned.

"But we still need my brother's remains. Only then can we right the wrong that was done to him."

"I thought you and your brother weren't speaking, sir," Thomas told him, "You even called him an asshole."

"He was an asshole," Schmidt admitted with a laugh, "But he's family, and you never abandon family. Even if he truely is gone, then I'll strive to avenge him instead."

He looked inside the room again, and the crates filled with the old animatronics, and said, "Whatever it takes."

"You've got one more chance!" yelled the voice, "Drop your weapons and step out onto the porch!"

"Under who's authority?" John shouted back. Daniel gave him an are-you-fucking-stupid look, but John ignored him.

Meanwhile the people outside were laughing.

"You think we need a warrant to come in there and spill blood, John?" said the man again, "Well guess what? We don't answer to anybody except Walter Schmidt."

"What does Schmidt want with us?" John called out. Daniel kept up with the look. Luke, however, got the point. He was stalling.

"Are you dumb, John?" the man replied, "You killed his brother and didn't even have the goddamn decency to let Mr Schmidt say his goodbyes. What kind of sick individual does that?"

"That's rich!" John said, peeking out the window, "It's your lot who decided to hold an entire building full of children hostage."

John got a good look at the man. His head was bald, and he wore black combat pants, boots, and vest.

"Collateral damage," he said with a shrug.

"Bullshit!" John yelled.

"You've had enough warnings," the megaphone guy said, "We're coming in!"

"Not if Walter Schmidt wants his brother's body back!" John yelled at him, "If you come in here, we'll fight, and you'll have to kill us. And then how will Walter say his goodbyes?

"Now do exactly as I say, and I'll give you Schmidt's burial location. If you come in here, then Walter's not gonna be happy with the result!"

Three hours later, and Megaphone Man's patience was drying up.

"Cut the bullshit!" he shouted, "If you think you're able to dick us around until we give up, then think again! Now get on that porch or we'll break the damn door down!"

"You don't wanna do that!" John said, stepping in front of the window and raising the gun to his head. Daniel and Caleb hung back. They knew the plan.

"Take another step," John warned, "and you lose your only chance to get Walter his brother's corpse!"

"I've had enough of this!" Megaphone Man shouted, "Bring 'em in, boys!"

BANG!

Megaphone Man went down, his brains splattering all over the ground. The rest of the men scattered. John whistled in delight.

"Cavalry's arrived," he told the others, "Let's move!"

They took out as many armed men as they could, while running to the safety of Caleb's car. Caleb was already in the driver's seat, and sped off when John was inside. Luke and Daniel took the other car.

"Thanks," John wheezed, "I owe you."

"Don't mention it," Caleb said, "Was the information good?"

"Yeah," John said, "I think it was!"