Mike tossed the book into the bin, growling quietly with anger. Nothing, nothing at all that would help him. Dozens of books talking about animatronics, a few mentions of the springlock kind, and nothing on the one's used at Freddy's. Rubbing his forehead, Mike walked over to the newspaper viewer, flicking back to look at the articles he had in his room.

Mike scrolled back, looking for any mention of Freddy. After a while, his eyes began to glaze over, and he spun the dial, watching it go back in time. Seeing nothing new still, he stood up, and turned around. Heading out of the library, Mike squinted at the sunlight peeking through the clouds.

Heading home, Mike knew he had work tomorrow, and then the trip to the doctor's, meaning this was his only free day for some time. Looking at the path before him, Mike flashed back to his many trips through the diner. The quiet echo of his footsteps as he hurried to his desk before the click onto midnight…

Blinking, Mike raised his head, realising he was alone on the street. A car rolled past, vanishing around a corner. Looking around, Mike frowned. This was a busy street, it shouldn't be this empty considering it was lunchtime. Where was everyone? Turning, Mike breathed in sharply, stepping back as Golden Freddy sat there, watching.

'They're following me out here too now!?' Mike closed his eyes and held his head. Hallucination or not, he had no doubt that Golden Freddy could kill. Mike could feel him coming toward him. Slowly, methodically, crawling toward him with open malice in it's pitch black eyes. Mike jumped as a hand touched his shoulder.

"Hey dude, are you ok?" It was a random stranger, one of the few surrounding him that had paused to watch him. Mike shook his head rapidly, and gave a weak smile.

"Oh! Yeah I'm fine. I get headaches sometimes, it's a medical condition. Thank you though." Mike smiled properly at the man, who frowned and tilted his head. There was a question on his lips, but he closed his mouth and looked toward the crowd instead.

"Alright, I imagine without a screen to monitor it, it'd be hard to know when it is coming on." The man gave Mike a serious look, and slowly the crowd began to clear. Standing up, Mike followed the man into a side street, giving him a searching look. The man pulled out a small card, and Mike read the name on it.

"Fritz, Fritz Smith. I believe we've met?" Mike searched his memory as the man nodded, and finally remembered their connection. They had met inside the asylum, two workers suffering from hallucinations. Handing back the card, Mike took in the man. Unlike Mike, this was a man who had managed to clean up his life, suit and tie carefully ironed and business-like glasses.

"So, how's life been for you Mike?" Fritz narrowed his eyes, and Mike shuddered once in response. They were both silent for a long time, thoughts whirling through each other's brains. Fritz sighed, and held out a small, sealed cardboard box.

"Here, I heard you purchased all the stuff from the auction including...Look Mike, I'm cutting my ties here. My life has finally returned to normal, I suggest you try to do the same." Fritz bit his lip as Mike took the box, and shook his head.

"I can't do that Fritz. You know that." Mike opened the box and looked inside. There was a tape recorder, and a whole bunch of tapes. Pausing, Mike blinked, and a smile came on his face.

"The scream! I can record the scream!" Mike quickly said goodbye to Fritz, and began to jog home. Stopping at a small store, he bought a microphone which he could plug into his tablet. Recording software he could download. Mike felt a stirring of hope, maybe there was something inside the scream!

Entering his house, Mike locked the door and set the program to download onto his tablet. Checking on the camera, he confirmed nothing had changed, and jogged into his room to listen to the new recordings. Glancing to his wall, he pulled out the marker, and wrote the two words down once.

"Uh, hello? Hello, hello? Uh, hello and welcome to your new summer job at the new and improved Freddy Fazbear's Pizza." Mike walked over, listening as the recording played. Closing his eyes, he put a hand to his chin, digesting the information being given to the new night guard. Mike could guess this was from the establishment before him.

Mike turned the recording off, knowing he would have to listen to the rest later. For now, his recording program had downloaded, and he plugged in the microphone. Unlocking the door, he entered the room, closing it behind him. Looking around the room, he breathed in.

"Listen, I only want to ask him one thing. So please don't choke me. Ok?" Glancing around the room, Mike saw no change. Taking that as a go ahead, Mike approached the animatronic, holding the microphone out.

"Alright, you have that scream right? Please scream into this." Mike pressed the record, and waited as the animatronic looked at him. After a moment, it's mouth opened, and it screamed loudly. Mike winced, but nodded. Checking his program, he was relieved to see it hadn't blown out his microphone.

"Alright, thanks." Mike turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. Stepping into his living room, he began to use various features on his program to mess with the scream. After some time, he managed to get a garbled message that set his entire body on edge.

'I'm sorry,' it spoke. Mike closed the program down, and stared into the distance for a moment. The murderer was sorry. Mike big his lip, unsure what to feel about that information. Living an undeath as an animatronic for years, it was hard not to feel some measure of sympathy for him. But it didn't change the fact that he was a murderer.

"This is heavy," he muttered, rubbing his forehead as he thought on this new information.