"I'm telling ya', bro, there's some freaky shit happening at Fazbear's."

Jack shoved several necessities into his backpack with one hand and tried to make sure that his cell phone was tucked securely under his ear with the other. The signal was marred by static, but he could still hear his brother clearly enough to hear the amused condescension in his voice as he spoke.

"Yeah, right, Jackie," chuckled Rob. "You getting your Ghostbusters garb on or what?"

"Laugh all ya' want, Robby, but I saw what I saw," said Jack. He had told his brother about seeing Springtrap and the Marionette wandering the halls (he had neglected to tell his big brother about the Marionette actually speaking to him last night, but he decided to keep that a secret. No need for his brother to try and send him to a loony bin.) As predicted, Rob thought he was just joking, but Jack really didn't care. He needed to talk to someone, and his brother was his best friend. If he was going to tell anyone that a seven-foot bunny rabbit was hunting him down from midnight to six, he might as well tell Rob.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," sighed Robert. "Well, when you're done going nuts are you gonna come back up and visit? Dad's been blabbing none stop about you working for a Fazbear place."

"How's the old man?"

"Fine, except he's considering disowning you for working at Fazbear's."

"He really hates the company, doesn't he?" chuckled Jack, tossing his purple jacket on.

"You remember how he and Mom used to nearly kill each other whenever she dropped us off there," Rob said. "He always thought it was a hellhole of bad food and creepy robots…and, well, yeah, it is. Plus he was always worried that some weirdo would try an' get us into his white van or something."

"Can't say those fears were unfounded," sighed Jack, thinking of the murderer that was currently trapped in the animatronic suit at Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction).

"Well, anyway, tell him not to worry," said Jack. "I'm just gonna fix some stuff up while I'm down here and then I'll head up and visit…unless I end up dead. And if that happens, well, you know why: bunny rabbit."

"Bunny rabbit, got it," laughed Rob. "I'll write up your obituary today. It's gonna be great."

"All right, well, speaking of bunny rabbits I've gotta head to work. Hopefully I'll still have hands later on so I can call ya'."

"Right-o. It's getting late and I'm headed to bed. Not all of us are night owls, y'know. I'll tell Dad you said hello. I'll also tell him to hold off on that disownment."

"Thanks, bro," Jack snorted. "Well, gotta go. Love ya'."

"Love ya', too, Jack. Delusions and all."

Jack hung up and stared down at his phone for a few seconds. It suddenly hit him that he might very well die tonight, all joking aside. Springtrap was no mere machine, after all. There was a killer in there, a serial killer that wouldn't hesitate to hurt children and therefore was unlikely to be merciful towards the night guard.

He should have been trembling at the thought of stepping near Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction). It wasn't as though he had nothing to live for, after all. He didn't have a wife and kids or anything, and as far as general living conditions went his was mediocre to say the least (a job at a little urban attraction didn't allow him to dine on caviar, after all), but he had an awesome brother and a caring dad eagerly awaiting his next visit home. He had friends and family, so a suicide mission didn't seem to suit him.

Yet he wasn't afraid. He couldn't even find it in himself to be baffled by all he had seen and experienced in the past four nights. In the past four nights he had been stalked by a possessed animatronic and made aware that ghosts existed, and yet he wasn't astounded at all. He'd never really believed in all of those horror stories, but he wasn't going to let this newfound information drive him bonkers, and he wasn't going to let fear keep him from Fazbear's.

Because not only was he destructively curious, not only was his curiosity overpowering his natural survival instincts, but so was his sense of obligation. Creepy animatronics or no, those were kids in there. He would be a class-A asshole if he just left them there to rot. Springtrap or no, Purple Man or no, he had to do something to help out.

He made sure to silence his cell phone before he left (best not to let his stupid ringtone alert Springtrap to his presence). He got to the building an hour before twelve and hurried to his office. Although he knew that he wouldn't be in any danger before midnight since Springtrap's servos would be locked up before then, he didn't want to take a risk. Especially since he had no clue where Springtrap hid himself during the day. The last thing he needed was to bump into the bunny minutes before the clock struck twelve.

He used the extra time he had to dig through some of the old Fazbear and Friends odds and ends that were lying around his office. There was a box full of scraps that he could tell must have been from the early Toy models, and among the scraps he found an old guitar. He smiled and ran his finger along the surprisingly-unbroken strings, chuckling when a little tune was produced.

"Do—do—do," he hummed, clumsily playing the little guitar. "This must'a been Bonnie's once."

Indeed, this was from the older model. He could tell because the Toy model had had an electric guitar, but this one was just a regular ol' guitar. Nothing flashy or 'hip' about it. It had a pleasant sort of charm to it, and Jack decided to set it aside. Perhaps he could use it at some point.

He dug through another crate and was quite pleased to find several little figurines. Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy. He set them up on his desk. Cute. Not exactly useful, but cute.

He dug a plastic cupcake with the creepiest eyes he'd ever seen out of an old crate. Chica's. He'd remember that nightmare-pastry anywhere. He set it beside Bonnie's guitar, making sure to turn its eyes away from him.

Next he managed to yank out a slightly-faded top hat. It was either Freddy's or Fredbear's. He couldn't tell just by looking at it, especially because it was so old that the black was turning gray, but either way he plopped it on his head, chuckling and marveling at what a ten-year-old he was acting like right now. He whipped the hat off and set it beside the cupcake and the guitar.

He was starting to run out of time and was about to stop his little excavation and sit down when something caught his eye at the very bottom of a box. With a bit of effort, he managed to pull it out and nearly cracked up.

It was a plushie. A very, very old plushie. Obviously from the Fredbear years, when the Spring-Suits had been worn. It had clearly once been modeled after Spring-Bonnie, but age and wear had caused its golden surface to become greenish. Now it resembled its animatronic counterpart to an almost frightening degree.

Jack immediately decided to call it "Plushtrap".

He finally sat down on his swivel chair, giving Plushtrap a place of honor right beside him.

"Well, Plushtrap," he sighed, "looks like it's you and me against a psycho in a bunny suit. Let's hope Marionette's got a plan."

Plushtrap naturally said nothing.

"Oh, sorry. I mean The Puppet," said Jack, yanking up his systems. Nope. Ventilation wasn't out yet. He was just going crazy.

The clock struck midnight and soon Jack (and Plushtrap, of course, whose contributions of moral support were essential) was once again forced to use dexterity and the sound of a little boy's voice to keep a murderous machine at bay. Springtrap seemed particularly aggressive tonight. Indeed, he seemed to get more and more pissed off as the time wore on. Jack had to be careful not to use the audio too much since that only seemed to make Springtrap all the angrier. And the last thing Jack needed was an even more pissed-off Springtrap.

Jack pulled down the monitor, ready to reboot all of his systems.

Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a phantom. A little boy animatronic, green with age, with hollow eyes. Jack stiffened and prepared for the ghostly machine to jump right at him, triggering all of the alarms.

But the boy just stood here, staring, his ethereal form giving off an aura of confusion.

"Balloon Boy isn't going to harm you, Night-Guard Jack."

The strange yet familiar voice made Jack look up just as the Puppet began to lower itself to the night guard's level.

"P-Puppet!" he stuttered. He sensed a spike of disapproval coming from the Marionette.

"Erg, The Puppet," he corrected himself quickly, earning a nod of approval from the possessed puppet.

"You came back," muttered the Puppet, an edge of surprise in its tone.

"'Course. Said I would, didn't I?" mumbled Jack, his gaze alternating between the Marionette and the strange specter.

"So…erm…is this one of the friends you wanted me to talk to?"

"No," replied the Puppet. "This is Balloon Boy. He's the youngest here. I'm afraid he knows just as little as we do. He's only here because he doesn't wish to abandon his friends. He's also the only one that's still willing to let me speak to him."

Balloon Boy cast a look of sympathy towards the Puppet. Jack leaned a little closer to the ghost.

"Erg…" he muttered, "H-hi, I'm Jack, nice to meet you."

Balloon Boy glanced at the night guard and gave him an impish little smile.

"He doesn't talk," said the Puppet.

"He can't?" queried Jack.

"If he can, he never has and I doubt he's about to."

Balloon Boy shook his head and put a finger to his lips.

"That's what I thought," sighed the Puppet in what Jack could tell was a fondly exasperated manner. "Regardless, he is going to help lead you to the others, and he'll try to restrain them if they try to flee."

"Wait, back up," said Jack. "Lead me to the others? I've gotta leave the room?"

"Obviously," said the Marionette, "You need to find them, find where they hide when they're not leaping in your face."

Balloon Boy gave a puckish little giggle at that and Jack shot a glare at the phantom child.

"Laugh it up, Balloon Brat," he huffed before turning to the Puppet. "I can't leave the room, though. I need to stay in the office or Springtrap might come across me. I can't help you much if he rips my head off."

"I see," said the Puppet, its already limp shoulders sagging slightly. "Why do you need to stay here? Isn't there some way you could leave?"

"I need to click some buttons to distract Springtrap…unless…"

"Unless what?"

Jack stood up and stepped aside, gesturing to his swivel chair and asking, "Can you press buttons."

The Puppet looked from the chair, to the monitors, and then to the nonchalant night guard before replying, "Yes…you want me to be Night-Guard?"

"Somebody has to," Jack said sternly. "And since I doubt Casper the Balloon-Ghost here is gonna be able to press buttons…"

Balloon Boy sadly shook his head and tried to touch the systems monitor. His withered hand, however, phased through the machine.

"There ya' go," said Jack, gesturing to the phantom as he pulled his hand out of the systems monitor. "If you want me to help you and your friends, you're gonna have to switch places with me. I'll help the kids, you'll man the office."

The mere thought nauseated the Puppet. The thought of being a Night-Guard, of sitting in the same sort of office that the Purple Man had manned long ago, made its lean body shudder with disgust. It had trained itself to hate the guards, and the Night-Guards in particular since they were the ones that always gave the Puppet and its friends such stress and misery.

But if becoming Night-Guard meant helping its friends…well…

"Very well," sighed the Puppet, "If that is what must be done."

It pulled itself so that it was above Jack's chair and then yanked its strings off of the ceiling, landing in the chair with a soft plop'. It sat up somewhat shakily, unused to being in such a position. Normally it was either lying down, crawling across the floors, or moving with its strings. Sitting down was…something it hadn't done in a long time.

It realized quite quickly that it wasn't the only seated one. The Puppet looked to its side as it felt a little plushie brush against one of its lean arms. The Marionette looked down at Plushtrap and then turned its gaze towards Jack.

"Really?" said the Puppet in a strangely patronizing tone.

"Hey," chuckled Jack, "don't make fun of Plushtrap. Plushtrap's very sensitive."

The Puppet let out a long sigh and Jack had a feeling that if it had pupils, it would be rolling them.

Jack showed the Puppet how to reboot the systems, check the cameras, and play the audio clips.

"Just lead him between these two rooms at the far end of the building," said Jack. "And be careful. Don't play the audio every ten seconds or he'll start to get really pissed, and especially be careful not to play it in a room he's already in. If you do that, he'll know it's a trick and he'll start coming right at you."

"And if he reaches me?"

"Hold still and don't break eye contact no matter what. Can he…hurt you?"

"I can hardly die twice," said the Puppet. "But if he destroys my body…I'm not sure what would happen, but either way best avoid that situation."

"Right," laughed Jack a bit darkly. The camera that Jack and the Marionette were studying flickered and Springtrap was suddenly staring right into the camera. Jack could swear that he saw the Puppet shudder.

"Don't flip out," Jack advised. "Just go ahead and lead him away."

The Puppet nodded and used its long finger to click on a camera and hit 'play audio'.

"Hello!"

Balloon Boy smiled brightly when he heard the familiar sound of his pre-recorded voice echo from the room the Puppet had played the sound in. Jack noticed this and nodded.

"Yeah, BB," he said. "For some reason Springtrap always follows your voice. I think it has something to do with his programming."

"That's odd."

"Hm?"

"That's odd," repeated the Puppet, "Perhaps this was only true for us…but we were never drawn to our programming to that degree."

"What do you mean?"

"Our bodies would sometimes glitch and react in accordance to our programming," the Puppet explained, "That's why lights would make us freeze and adjusting our AI could slow us down…but it never made us lose focus. Our programming wouldn't have allowed us to harm anyone, much less kill them, yet we were able to go after the Purple Man."

"You didn't kill him, though," said Jack. The Puppet was silent for a moment, and Jack could tell that something was troubling the Marionette.

"Well," said Jack, deciding not to probe further lest they start losing time, "whatever. It works, so just keep using it."

"And what happens," asked the Puppet, clearly eager to change the subject, "if Purple Man starts approaching the room that you're in?"

"Oh…uhm…"

Jack grabbed a sticky note and quickly scribbled down his cell phone number. He stuck it on the side of the monitor and then grabbed the nearby phone, setting it beside the Puppet's chair.

"There," he said. "If Springtrap gets too close, dial that number and I'll feel my phone buzz. Then I'll know to scram."

He patted the pocket where his cell phone was stored to emphasize the point and the Puppet nodded.

"Then I seem to be ready," said the Marionette, "As for you, you and Balloon Boy should try to find Bonnie first. I never saw him enter your office or move around, so he must be hiding somewhere and refusing to budge. He'll be easy to corner and speak to if that's the case, and besides if you talk to him the others will be more willing to open up."

"Find Bonnie, got it," said Jack. He reached down and grabbed the aforementioned rabbit's guitar.

"Is that Bonnie's?" asked the Puppet. Jack nodded.

"Found it earlier," the night guard explained. "Think it might come in handy."

"Perhaps. Don't break the strings: it's very old."

"I can tell," said Jack. "Don't worry, I'll leave the noise making to you. C'mon, BB! Let's go!"

"Wait!" cried the Puppet before Jack could speed away. The Puppet gestured to the night guard's purple uniform and said, "Take that off. We don't…like that uniform."

Jack glanced down at his mauve jacket and bit his bottom lip. He nodded and pulled it off, tossing it into the corner before following Balloon Boy out of the office, now clad in only his jeans and undershirt.

The Puppet glanced at the crumpled-up uniform for a moment before its blank eyes returned to the screen. Springtrap was looking around the room that the Puppet had led him to, a strange call coming from his throat as he searched. The Puppet listened closely, but it couldn't tell what the animatronic was saying.

"Why do you follow the sound, Purple Man?" it whispered, flickering to another camera. "Are you looking for another child? Is that it? Why follow the sound?"

It clicked 'play audio' and a cheerful giggle echoed across the building.

Whoo! Long chapter! My wrist hurts!

Special thanks to Fabrio de Verbis, Little Kunai, 3shadowprincess, and Guest for reviewing the last chapter! Thanks to everyone for reading/favoriting, and please be sure to review! Reviews make my day and make me type faster!

Also, remember to go visit my Hetalia story, The Boy Who Lived, if you love or even like Hetalia. And hey, if you're a fan of the game OFF (yes, the one Markiplier did a let's play of), go check out the one shot I did for OFF, The Player Knows Best.

Up next: Why Springtrap follows the noise…