A/N: Hello guys, welcome back. First of all, thanks for waiting through an unusually long delay, even for me. I don't enjoy making you wait, but it's been a very busy final exam season for me. Sometimes, however, I simply have writer's block or I'm distracted by other things. I know it's annoying for you, and again, my apologies. Thanks for your patience, and hopefully this chapter will make up for the wait.

Now, there is something I wanted to say regarding criticism versus 'flames'. Recently, I got a good piece of criticism from a guest user, at the end of which he apologized for 'flaming' me. Guys, you do not have to apologize for giving me your honest critique, in fact I'm thankful to anyone who does so. Flames are mindless hate that can't help an author, but honest reviews like the one I got are a massive help. I invite you all to give me your honest opinions so I can try to improve this story.

With that aside, happy reading! Let me know how you liked this one, and take care. Have a good week ;)

Chapter 40: The voice on the phone

But the subject of ghosts was raised again as we sat in the smoking room after dinner, and over glasses and pipes, speculated on various theories and philosophies to do with specters, the afterlife and worlds beyond the grave.

Completely enthralled, I turned the page of my supernatural thriller, courtesy of Jeremy's last visit, and read on. I had lost sense of time, barely remembering that there wasn't a lot left till midnight, when a new guard would arrive. But I just had to finish this chapter.

The supply closet was surprisingly roomy, considering the pizzeria's budget. Even with our size, there was more than enough space for two of us to sit on the floor comfortably, but no one else ever came here. Not that I had any problems with that: with the closet's light turned off, and its thick shelfs blocking every noise, it was the perfect place to read an old-fashioned, gothic ghost story. Unfortunately, none of the characters' theories on ghosts was ever right.

I was close to finishing the chapter when I heard a soft, raspy, spiteful voice; its presence immediately brought back a flood of bad memories, but above all a feeling of annoyance.

"Hello, Pizza Boy. It's been a while."

I laid down my book reluctantly and stared in front of me. The pink glow from my eyes reflected off the figure's black slender body. Its previously clean white mask was now covered with dark streaks, as if pure darkness was sprouting from its top. But no light was necessary to see the blazing white light in his hollow eyes.

"What do you want, puppet?" I replied, letting him know I wasn't scared as much as bothered.

Marionette chuckled lightly. "You're not afraid?"

I shrugged, standing up besides the light switch. "I was enjoying a story about evil ghosts, and an evil ghost shows up. You could say I was prepared. Besides, I'm getting tired of these visits."

Once again, the puppet laughed. Although it was barely more than a snicker, it belonged to a madman who was slowly but surely losing what was left of his mind. "You're not scared of a Shadow?" he asked, curious and amused.

"No."

"You should be." Every last bit of playfulness left his voice immediately. "Look at me, Pizza Boy. This is your future. You will all become Shadows. Like me, like them."

"Only if the blood seal in my body gets damaged." I reminded. Marionette's gaze immediately dropped to my chest as a sinister hunger took over his eyes. "My eyes are up here, puppet."

The Shadow chuckled again, raising his stare as he stated happily "I'm impressed. You're not showing any kind of remorse, even though I can see the blood dripping from your fingers. How many have you killed?"

"I never killed anyone. Everything was done by that thing you awoke inside me." But I wasn't sure of that myself, and he knew that.

"Is that true?" Marionette's smile seemed to grow even more as he took some deliberately slow steps towards me. "You are two sides of the same coin. You think he hasn't talked to you because you're strong?" A short, mocking laugh echoed through the room. "He's not going to waste his energy on you. He's saving it all for the poor soul that's coming tonight. I'm sure he wants to be the one to kill, and when he does, he'll grow. His bloodlust will take over you, and you will be one and the same. And I will be in the shadows, enjoying the show as you crumble into him."

A short pause followed. His eyes flickered down to my chest for a moment. "What happened to Balloons and Mangle?" I asked coldly, pushing down my swelling discomfort. "Where are they?"

"Oh, I don't know." His indifference sickened me. "I'm sure they're fighting for their minds. If that's the case, they're in pain. Don't worry though, it won't be for long. They will never win. We'll all be the same at the end." The puppet stepped closer, his needle-like fingers sharpening into shadowy claws. "AND YOU CAN JOIN US!"

He lunged forward, a long slender arm aimed at my chest, at my blood seal. But I always sat under the light switch for a reason. As his claws approached my body, I immediately flicked on the switch. The lightbulb above Marionette's dark figure sputtered to life, filling the small room with white, warm brightness. The Shadow hissed in pain, covering his eyes from the burning light as his silhouette seamed to thin out, washed away by the glow. Backing away, the puppet threw one last poisonous glance at me as he began to disappear into nothing.

"See you later, Brandon." Marionette's hateful voice rung through my mind like a faded, distant echo. "I'll be watching."

Then, I was alone again. Blissful silence reigned over the room for a few seconds, and I sighed as I picked up the book. A well-timed burst of light could get rid of a Shadow for a while, but never permanently. I then wondered if Balloons and Mangle were hidden away from the light somewhere, afraid and alone. Did they still remember who they were? Did they still remember us?

Some knocks on the door behind me brought me back to the present. I turned around to see Sarah opening it slowly, peaking at me. "Brandon, it's almost midnight." she said as she opened it completely. "Time to go." Her eyes and voice were devoid of her usual playfulness; no one was looking forwards to tonight.

I followed her back to the dining area, reluctant. Sean was speaking to Ferny from his usual place on the stage, but he fell quiet when he noticed me. "Jack's hiding in the kitchen, right?" I asked Ferny as Sarah and I climbed up the stage, taking our usual places.

He nodded. "I told him to lock the door. Hopefully that helps."

"Thanks." Sighing, I checked the clock hanging on the dining area's wall. It was five for twelve. "So, now we wait?"

"Now we wait." Fer turned around and started to walk back to pirate's cove, but not before turning around to us one more time. "Good luck guys." he called out, clearly trying to beat the heavy cloud above our heads. "Or should I say, bad luck?"

Sarah couldn't hold back a small snicker. "Bad luck to you too, doofus."

Ferny grinned, showing off his sharp fangs as he stepped into the cove and pulled its curtains shut. A wave of anxiety washed over me as silence filled the dark space. Not one minute later, the front door swung open slowly, and a bleary-eyed Dave stepped into the restaurant. The man crossed the dining area with big steps, barely giving us a quick and scared glance before walking into the west hallway. It was clear that he did not want to spend time with us.

The clock didn't make any sound when it struck midnight. I felt a soft tap on my left shoulder, and turned my head discretely towards Sarah. She gave me a small, reassuring nod along with a feeble smile. I nodded back in appreciation. Sean only looked at me for a second, clearly about to say something, when he shut his eyes forcefully and turned his head away. Letting out a small groan, he held a hand on his chest.

'Don't worry, kid.' taunted the voice in my head, his words slow and venomous. 'It'll be over soon. Just be a good boy and let me out.'

The pain was short and strong, taking me by surprise. I didn't bother fighting back, knowing it was useless. Instead, I just prayed that I wouldn't wake up with blood on my hands, and closed my eyes.

I smiled as I opened them, enjoying the feeling of total control and freedom over myself. Freedom to kill once again.

"Is that you, Bonnie?" asked Freddy, his low voice eager yet calm.

Turning my head towards him and Chica, I nodded with pride. "It's me. Happy to be back." I climbed off the stage and started to head to the dining area, when I heard Freddy say "We can't go tonight."

All the joy from the prospect of killing turned into bitter frustration. "What do you mean?" I growled, facing the two figures on stage. "I haven't killed in months! I need to feel it again."

"I know you do." The bear stepped down from the stage, cold blue eyes locked steadily on me. "But this game won't be like the others."

"What do you mean?"

Freddy crossed his arms as he began explaining. "He is the manager's right-hand man, and maybe even a close friend. I know it's hard, but try to go back to the memories of your other self from last evening."

"I don't wanna have anything to do with that brat." I answered curtly, "If he heard anything useful, then spit it out. You know I don't like to wait."

Mild disappointment flashed behind the bear's cold eyes for just an instant, then they returned to their normal indifference, almost boredom. "The manager broke the rules. This guard will have
unlimited power for a few nights."

"Are you saying that we can't kill him?!" demanded Chica anxiously, glaring at Freddy. "That's so unfair! What do we do?!"

The brown figure turned to her slowly, never losing his calm demeanor. "They won't be able to keep it up forever." was his answer, "Sooner or later, they'll have to go back to a limited amount of power per night."

"What do we do if we can't kill?" I asked, irritated.

"We wait." replied Freddy as he turned away from us and headed to Pirate's Cove. "I'll tell Foxy everything I just told you. Go walk around if you like, but don't act to aggressive. Just do as if you were freeroaming and nothing else. I'll see you later."

He kept walking towards the Cove, leaving Chica and me behind in silence. Growling with frustration, I scratched the back of my head as I stomped around the dining area impatiently, away from her. I held my fingers as they started to twitch with need, tried to ignore the hot yearning from my body and walked around aimlessly to distract myself.

These were going to be some long, annoying hours.

Nothing changed for the first three nights. We always woke up a few minutes after six, relieved to see that our alter egos hadn't tried anything except walking around the pizzeria impatiently and inspecting Dave in his office. Early in the night he could be seen recording some messages on a phone's voicemail, giving instructions for the guard that would come after him. And every morning before the first clients arrived, the head guard would give the same report to his superior: nothing too strange was happening.

Almost twenty people in total visited the pizzeria during the fourth day, an exceptionally large amount compared to what was normal for the establishment. A few minutes after closing, three men in suits arrived at the front door without any kind of warning. The manager was still lingering around the dining area when he noticed them. He opened the door reluctantly with a fake smile, yet it seemed like he was somehow expecting them to come.

The trio of executives looked completely out of place in the grimy and childish establishment. In another moment it might have been comic, but there was a certain tension in the air. The 'meeting' lasted for twenty minutes in the dining area, but there were only two things that mattered to us: unless the place managed to somehow break even over the following weeks it would be closed down indefinitely, and they had noticed how the current night guard used way too much power for the location's budget. Erik could no longer protect his friend from us.

Ferny tapped his foot impatiently as he leaned against the kitchen wall, yellow eyes filled with anxiety. "So, he's gonna have almost no electricity tonight?" he asked.

Sean nodded absent-mindedly, his eyes focused on nothing in particular, and answered "Yes. To make up for all the power he used the past three nights."

"Does he know?" continued Ferny, looking down at Sarah, Jack and me.

"No." she said, shoving herself closer to the withered yellow body. "I don't think so."

Jack shivered as he curled himself up against the wall, white pinpoints of light shining feebly. "He'll t-take over the next night, I know." His voice sounded low and ill, a symptom of what was to come.

"Are you feeling cold?" I asked.

He shrugged without looking at me as he idly traced a circle on the floor. "It's always s-so cold when… he…wants t-to play."

I sighed and threw a quick glance at the clock on the wall; it was almost time. The uncertainty of previous nights was no longer a weight over our heads, since it was clear that the man had no chance of surviving if he decided to come. We could only wait.

Jack raised worried his eyes to me, and whispered "What if h-he takes over me?"

"Bucky only does that on the fifth night." I replied, trying to sound reassuring as we walked back to the door. Nodding slightly, Jack lowered his gaze, seemingly bored of having to wait without anything to do. I waved at him as I stood alone under the doorway. "Lock the door buddy, and take care."

"You too." he replied shortly, waving at me weakly.

I was about to head back to the stage, when I suddenly felt the urge to say one last thing. Turning around once again, I told him "Whatever happens, whatever you hear, please don't leave this room. Even if it's to save his life. He might get hurt like the others, but you don't have to."

"I know." was Jack's dry answer. "D-don't worry. Just go."

I closed the door with a lowered head and walked back to the stage. Ferny was already hidden behind his curtains, and Sarah and Sean were in their usual places.

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Sarah to no one in particular, even though we all knew the answer. It was then that Dave appeared by the front door. With his eyes slightly closed and cast downward, he opened it and stepped into the dining area, not looking at us once. The man took slow, deliberate steps to the office. He seemed confident that nothing was going to happen.

Sean sighed after we heard the steel door from the office close, and mumbled "No. We can wait for a miracle, but I don't believe in those things. Not anymore."

I saw how the clock's hands finally came together, forming a single line: twelve o'clock. "We're sorry Dave." I whispered, closing my eyes. "We're very sorry."

"Bonnie, wake up." Freddy's unexpressive voice was the first thing I heard as I opened my eyes. "The wait is over."

A bolt of excitement rushed through me while I turned to my companions. Chica's eyes were bright and wide, almost crazed-looking with anticipation, whilst Freddy's were cold and dead on the surface, yet filled with bloodlust just below. "He ran out of unlimited power, didn't he?" I asked.

The bear nodded, a thin smile appearing on his mouth. "He's ours now. Do you want to play our usual game?"

I shook my head as I practically jumped off the stage, and said "We waited long enough." Foxy quickly pulled open the curtains of Pirate Cove, and came by my side in a few strides. I held my hands in each other as he did, trying to conceal how much they were trembling. "I'm going straight for the prize."

"You two take the west hallway, and we'll take the east." replied Chica, climbing off the stage with Freddy. "He'll run out of power in no time with both doors closed." They both started to walk to their hallway, then she turned around to look at me once more time with a hungry gaze. Grinning wickedly, she said "We'll meet you two there."

Foxy and I didn't wait to begin our short voyage to the grand prize, but every little second felt too long. Balling my twitching hands, I tried to stay focused through the haze of my bloodlust, but it had grown into an unstoppable force. It had taken over me like never before, filling me with the need to steal a life with my hands. And I liked it.

When we got to the office the man was nervously recording one last message as Chica pounded her fists against the window, cracking it in the process. Foxy peered through the glass at the man, curiosity and eagerness visible in his hollow yellow eyes. But I simply stood in front of the door, ready to jump in as soon as the lights went out.

"Uh, hey, do me a favor." The man's voice was weak and scared, muffled by the thick steel. Chica's banging interrupted him for just a second. "Maybe some time, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room?" More bangs came from the opposite hallway; louder, harder, hungrier. "I'm gonna try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won't be so bad."

"Why is this taking so long?!" I growled, kicking my feet against the door. I couldn't wait anymore.

"Uh, I always wondered what was in those empty heads back there. You know…"

Everything in the building turned off with a ghostly hum. The feeble warm light in the office was snuffed out like a candle, engulfing the cramped space in darkness. That was until the doors rose up simultaneously, and the man suddenly found himself surrounded by four pairs of glowing eyes.

With crossed arms, I slowly walked up to the figure behind the desk. The guard looked me like a deer in the headlights, not scared as much as bewildered. Sighing, I stopped by his side. "Do you have any idea how annoying it is to wait?" I began casually, "To spend hours and hours doing nothing at all while you sit comfortably here? I hate it."

The man's brow furrowed slightly after my cassette rewound and my voice box repeated my words. "How… how can you speak?" he asked, baffled and confused.

"But you never suspected anything, did you?" I smiled with satisfaction. "We got you good."

"What are you?!" he demanded harshly, standing up from his chair. "What did you do to the oth-"

My fist dug into his stomach, turning his words into guttural groans of pain. "You. Are. Rude." I scolded as he crumpled down on the floor. "You can't even ask a question with manners." I smiled while the man rolled on the dirty tiles, clutching at his midsection and gasping for breath. He looked up at me, eyes filled with hate and fear as I sat down next to him.

I turned my head to the right and glared daggers at Chica when she tried to get into the office with me. "Don't touch him." I warned, my voice low.

"What do you mean?" she asked, slightly confused. "I want…"

"I don't care what you want. This is what I need, do you understand?" She nodded with a resentful scowl. "Good. Glad to see we agree on something." When I turned my head back to the man I was met with a hard, dry hit against the side of my face. Hissing from the sting, I saw how he raised his nightstick to strike again, but I quickly grabbed the hand holding the weapon and closed my hand around his wrist until he dropped the baton.

Chuckling, I slowly crushed his wrist in my hand, enjoying how he uselessly tried to get out of my grip. "A nightstick? That was a bad idea, meatbag." I took the nightstick in my other hand. "A really bad idea."

Tightening my grip on his wrist, I roughly pulled up his arm and swung the weapon against its elbow. The joint was shattered immediately, causing his forearm to sag backwards at an unnatural angle. I let go of his broken arm and batted his chest and face with the nightstick; his ribs cracked, shuffled and broke with each hit. My laughs were drowned out by the man's screams until he fell silent, his eyelids and cheeks swelling up like balloons as the clock ticked on.

"Bonnie, that's enough." Freddy's stern voice felt like a distant noise. "You're going to kill him before time." Ignoring him, I smashed the unmoving man's crushed chest with the bloody baton once again. "Bonnie!"

Annoyed, I turned my head towards the bear. "What is… the problem?" I panted, dropping the nightstick. "I only… hit him… a few times."

"It's been ten minutes." said Foxy behind me as he stepped into the office. "You got your time. Let's finish this."

The man wheezed miserably before coughing up thick droplets of blood, staring at me blankly through his swollen and purple eyelids. Freddy went up to him calmly, and asked nonchalantly "What's your name?"

A raspy breath escaped the man's cracked lips. "D-Dave…" he answered, "Dave Hobbs."

"Well Dave," Chica walked up next to Freddy, and with a smile on her face told him "you're about to die."

"I know." The guard rolled his eyes to her, unable to move his body. "I h-have a wife… and a b-beautiful daughter. She's only five, but she l-loves you all. Her name is Evelyn. She doesn't deserve t-to lose me now. Please, just l-let me record one last message. I only want to say goodbye."

I laughed at the man's naivety. "Dave, look at me." He didn't listen to my order. "Look at me!" I grabbed his head and twisted it until he was staring into my eyes, and whispered slowly "Do you think I give a damn about your wife and daughter? Do you think I care that little Evelyn will grow up without a father? You are all the same: little bags of flesh and bones for us to play with, until we break them."

A spark of pure hate shone in Dave's eyes. "Your death won't change anything." I continued as I let go of him and stood up. "They'll cover it up, make you disappear, give your family some fake story." I grabbed his legs and dragged him effortlessly across the floor, out of the office. "This place will stay open so your so-called friend and his bosses keep making money. More guards will come, more guards will die." Foxy, Chica and Freddy followed me through the west hallway and the dining area. "You will be forgotten with them, just another dead body swept under the rug of this wonderful and magical place. Tomorrow, kids will play videogames and eat pizza like nothing happened. That's the way it is." I nudged open the grey door of the backstage room with my shoulder and stepped inside. "That's how it will be, forever."

A spare suit waited for us in the same place as usual, limp and headless. I grabbed the man by the neck and held him above the suit's opening; sharp pieces of metal and multiple wires shone with the glow from my eyes. "You will burn in hell." he croaked out with his last bit of strength. "All of you."

"Dave, I'm afraid you still don't understand." I stuffed the man into the suit until only his head and shoulders remained exposed. "If we go to hell, we won't be the ones burning." The man's eyes began to roll back in his head, and I put my hand over his face. "We will be the ones watching others burn."

I pushed his head down with all my force, feeling the resistance from the hundreds of crossbeams, wires and metal parts that sliced open the man. He didn't even scream in pain or anger, but simply sank into the depths of the suit silently under my weight.

After a while a few lines of dark blood sprouted from the guard's tomb. I pulled back my hand, admiring how it had been dyed from rich blue to crimson red. The twitching of my hands has stopped completely, and my burning need had subsided into a calm satisfaction.

"Are you done?" asked Foxy as he stepped by my side. "He's dead. There's nothing more to do."

But as I saw the blood dripping from my hand, an idea took shape in my mind. "Do whatever you wanna do." I told the others, leaving the room with a sinful smile on my face. "I want to leave behind a little surprise for my other self."

A/N: Sorry for the small cliffhanger. The sentence in italics is an extract from The Mist in the Mirror by Susan Hill, a gothic-horror thriller that I loved.