Seated back against the chair, Mike was struck again with: Now what? He had no idea how to deal with this killer. The only phantom he'd ever dealt with prior was Goldie. Somehow, he doubted not looking at him would work. If anything, taking his eyes off him would prove lethal. With a location, all he could do was avoid him. Mike looked down at the cracked tablet, might as well ask while things were quiet, "Alice, any advice how to deal with him? Flashlight?"

There was a pause. Then, epilepsies appeared dot by dot, the ghost was thinking. Unfortunately, all she could provide was, "Maybe? It works on most of us. Last guard didn't have one."

Mike's shoulders slouched, unsurprised, but, "Maybe, is better than outright no…" he sighed.

The last bit caught his attention, last guard? Fazbear Fright. Guy burned the place to the ground. Wish I could afford that…must've been cathartic as hell though. He glanced at the killer's location, still in the main party room. Why wasn't he moving? He had to know he was here by now, unless he was trying to figure out why the animatronics weren't moving, or was up to something. Mike's gut couldn't decide which. He had attacked while he and Kyle were split so maybe he preferred to get his targets off guard. Guy did kill kids, having advantage would be a preference. The latter, well, it didn't sit well with him…least the former would give him time.

Time for what though?

He couldn't just sit here and twiddle his thumbs while having a conversation with a ghost girl through a tablet screen, but what was he supposed to do? What could he do? He couldn't just go out and look for the phantom and hope the flashlight worked. That just ask for trouble. He may have a death wish, but he still had work to do. A mess to fix. Hopefully. Mike wasn't completely sold on the joint locks holding either. Shit, all he could do was sit there and wait for something to happen.

As such, Mike sat in the security room. Anxiously waiting for the clock on the tablet to tick by, one number a time. The grave silence in the air, which in any other circumstance would've been peaceful, only worsened the unease in Mike more and more. Perhaps it was because he was used to constant threats in Freddy's, or because the likelihood that the murder was up to something felt like it was increasing. He sat rooted to his chair, coiled and ready to spring up and flee at a moment's notice. Yet, still, there was not a sound of movement to be heard. Mike's eyes darted from one door to the next. Nothing but darkened hallway. He wasn't sure what he expected. The tablet still indicated the killer hadn't moved. He clenched his jaw, body ridged with tension and stress, why? Why was he sitting still? What was this bastard up to? Much as Mike would rather not tangle with a murderer's phantom, he almost just wanted to get this over with. Waiting was getting to him, his heartrate picked up and his hands felt clammy, Mike tried to keep focused, alert, but the lack of- nothing, caused his mind to falter, wander this way and that into worried unknowns.

Then, something did happen.

One of the, if not worst, things.

Darkness.

He could here, somewhere, a generator shut off, followed shortly by the AC unit dying.

Everything, save the screen's dim light, went dark. The lights were out.

Mike felt the chill of dread slither up his body, hairs standing on ends. His hands clenched the sides of the tablet in a vice grip, his sole lifeline. Mike could hear his own breaths begin to pick up, jittery and uneven as panic began to rise in him. No, no, he had to focus. Panic was the last thing he needed. The joint locks, yes, everything was still silent. The animatronics still were stuck in place. His eyes darted to the map. The killer hadn't moved. Immediately after that, Mike wound the music box. Done, there, everything was as fine as it would-

Throughout the pizzeria, the silence was broken by simultaneous clinks of metal.

Mike's heart dropped to his stomach. He stared at the screen, frozen with dread. He only broke from his stocks stillness when commanding boldface word flashed on the tablet screen: RUN.

No further prompting was needed Mike, scrambled from the chair so fast that he stumbled. His legs slipped out from under him and kicked the chair. He grunted in pain when the thing landed roughly on top of him. The clatter of the tablet landing on the linoleum tile snapped his attention to it. It'd fallen in the left security doorway. Mike shoved the chair off himself, clambered to his feet, and snatched it up as he hurried out of the office.

Not about to blindly run towards the animatronics, which he could hear rushing their way towards him, Mike headed round to the front of the pizzeria. The sound of all of the huge padded paws and taps of claws followed suit, Mike's panic to spiked ever higher. Breaths frantic, he practically tossed himself over the counter of the reception desk. Tablet held up against his chest, in order to smoother the light, Mike scooted himself into the chair space, nudging the chair it housed aside. Sheltered as safely as he could hope, he tried to swallow his labored breaths. Familiar rushed foot falls caused him to cringe, his shoulder scar blistered, Foxy was rushing the security office. Reflexively, he curled himself tight as possible in his hiding place. Eyes squeezed shut, Mike tried not to react as much as possible when he heard the fox's snarled screech of fury.

Soon, they'd be searching for him.

Mike grabbed at his side for his flashlight. His hand grabbed at the side of his pants, then cold linoleum floor below that. Fear stunned him for but a moment before he quickly, and just as fruitlessly, grabbed at his other side. It wasn't there either. A memory flashed through the panic in his mind, the desk, he'd left it on the desk after he checked Mangle. The Freddy Mask was there too. Retrieving it was all for nothing.

He was defenseless.

As his mind was processing the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, a heavy footfall snapped him back to his reality of being hunted. Mike pressed his lips tightly together to keep an alarmed gasp kept inside himself. His eyes turned upward to the wooden underside of the desk that hid him. By the sound of it, Chica was the one to be clomping her way, slowly, around the reception. Her footfalls were more distinct than the others, clunkier and not padded like her mammal counterparts. On full alert, Mike could also hear the static wail of Mangle. It was distant. Not in the same room. Perhaps it'd gone back to check Kid's Cove for him? All the others seemed to have doubled back. Footfalls growing comfortingly distant.

Mike turned his attention back to his closest threat. Chica, was slowly making her lumbering way around the room still. He could hear her neck joint swiveling methodically back and forth. The bird was being thorough. Not good for him.

Carl. Shit.

Was that damned cupcake with her? He couldn't hear its infernal clattering or hopping around. No doubt it was close by. Thing was always not too far from Chica.

Stock now taken of the piss poor situation he was in, Mike felt stuck. Nothing but a counter between him and animatronic death. All he had on him was his wallet, keys, bandages, and a tablet. It's not like waving his keys in front of a vengeful, murderous, animatronic would pacify it. These were children- not infants. If it wasn't for the fact that Alice communicated through the tablet, Mike was half tempted to toss it at the chicken. Maybe, that'd give him a second to bolt. Wait. Was the tablet still functional? The panic he'd been in made it difficult to recall how hard it fell, but with how blindly he'd been flailing to get away. It had to have been hard.

Cautiously, he turned the tablet around.

THNK. THNK. THNK.

Both Mike and the animatronic paused what they were doing. Mike could hear Chica's feet shift around, turning to face the source of the sudden sounds. Mike guessed, it sounded like, something being turned on. Then he heard something else, slowly, the sound of the speakers drearily coming back to life. It started as a groggy drone then swelled up into funfair music. It was coming from the main party room. Chica's footsteps headed into the hall, going to investigate the commotion. Cautiously, Mike dared poke his head out from under the reception desk.

Carl sat perched on Chica's platter. Mike stilled. It was faced away from him. Had it not been, he would've been spotted. Mike swallowed, close call.

Alone, for the moment, Mike flipped the tablet over in his hands. Getting to his feet, he placed it down on the counter. There were more cracks in the tablet screen, most hairline but noticeable at a clear look. He stared at the screen, realizing, the obvious reason that the commotion had all gone down, dawned on him. The killer was in the party room. "Shit." Mike swore to himself. Hands curled into tight, Mike planted his trembling hands down on the counter. He knew where the killer was hiding now, and why Alice didn't know where. He'd been too stuck in his routine to think of it before: the control room.

He did all that to draw me out. Mike thought to himself. Right now, though, that wasn't what frustrated him most. No, it wasn't that. It was the fact that, Mike now realized, he had to walk right into the waiting trap. He had to confront the killer. If he was going to get anywhere with putting the kids to rest, he'd need information and he'd need to get it direct from the cause of all this suffering.

While he stared down at the beaten-up tablet, Mike realized he had another dilemma. What was he to do with the device? He couldn't take him with him. Length and width-wise it was the size of the book, just not as thick. It was too cumbersome to carry around. The killer would surely try and break it, should he get ahold of it. He had to leave it somewhere safe, which meant leaving behind his link to Alice.

"Sorry kid, thanks for trying to help."

After hiding the tablet, Mike cautiously looked into the hall. He could still make out the movements of the animatronics, just barely, over the blare of the faire music. From his spot at the end of the hall, Mike saw what had been powered on. Red, blue, yellow, green, and pink lights faded in and out, amongst it was the dazzle of the disco ball. Throwing a party, Mike thought dully, and I'm invited. How nice.

One more check that the coast was clear, Mike briskly walked down the hall and snagged his flashlight from the security office. He left the Freddy head behind. It'd be too clunky to carry around. Clearly, he wouldn't be sticking to the office tonight. Honestly, he was surprised that the office wasn't completely locked off again. Like it had been the night Kyle died. Guess he doesn't have that kind of power, to make the whole place go crazy. Mike thought to himself, as he carefully made his way down to the party room. Least that was a good note, far as he knew.

Ducking into the prize corner, Mike peered into the party room. From there he could make out more of what was going on. Far as he could tell, it looked like all the animatronics were present. Freddy, Chica and Mangle, he could see clearly, enough, Mangle's exposed endo skeleton was light up like shiny bones by the colored lights. It only proved enhance how unnaturally lean it looked, the limbs just a bit too long looking without their shells. By the stage, Mike could periodically see Bonnie, helped by his ears, as the lights danced about. Only ones he couldn't make out were Balloon Boy or Foxy. Mike didn't like that the fox was absent from his view, but he'd take a majority.

As Mike watched, he noted that the haunted animatronic appeared rather confused by the happenings. They glanced around and at each other, as if to ask what was going on. Freddy had his head tilted as he stared at the stage. Chica seemed to shift uncertainly. They…for the first time since encountering these lost souls, seemed almost, for the moment, like they should be- lost kids.

All present straightened at the sound of a voice, disrupting the supposedly jovial faire music, "Welcome, welcome! To Freddy Fazbear's, a place where fun and fantasy comes to life! Just because the doors are shut- doesn't mean the party has come to an end!"

The animatronics uttered short, choppy, noises of confusion, but Mike, much as it was hard for him to imagine, after all they'd put him through, they sounded- uneasy. Did they recognize the voice? It didn't sound like the one from his dream, though he couldn't be sure that was accurate. This voice sounded, like a character. Overly upbeat, cheery and chipper, higher-pitched. Towards the end though, there was more of a point in the tone, a subtle growl.

"All are welcome at Freddy's, even you- hiding away!"

Mike felt his body go cold. He knew where he was.