NOTES

Uhhhh.. Yep. This sure is the notes section.

Uhhhhhhhhhh...

I'm absolutely certain there was something I wanted to say in the notes, but now that I've finished the chapter and am now currently writing the notes, I can't remember what it is.

Suppose you'll be spared of my whining this time around

Anyway

Cellar

...

- Kh-CHk -

...

Come on...

- CRUNCH -

Jesus Christ, there we go.

The cellar did NOT want to open. At first I thought it was locked, but I noticed it budged ever so slightly every time I pulled with everything I got.

And with enough trial and error, the cellar flies open; just as the wood around the handle started to crack.

I step back and stare down the steps leading down to whatever basement I never knew I had. At first, I was a little proud of my handywork, but the feeling was quickly overpowered with apprehension as I stared into the void that no one but my father has ever entered. Not a pleasant thought.

William could have been working on ANYTHING down here. Usually, when I was tracking down my father, I had an idea of what I was going to find at any given location. Like, I knew the scooper was at Baby's, I knew the back room was at Freddy's, I felt like I knew 'the secrets'. But I have NO idea what's down here, or what William was working on not even 15 feet from where I slept every night.

...That can't be right. Every time I try to think about it, it makes no sense. I understand that the cellar was under a carpet, so it was hidden to an extent, but there's no way that I never noticed William coming in or out. Hell, I must have moved the carpet at SOME point during my nights here, and if I did I definetly would have noticed a cellar entrance. Did I really just plain never notice it?

Well, questions for later. I've got to delve in here before anyone else happens upon this house and finds the cellar open.

I take my first step, and it creaks, ridiculously loudly.

In addition to being annoying, that unfortunately proves this cellar has been here a while. Not even the house has fallen much out of shape. I think it was on the market for years, and was kept looking fresh, until just a year or two ago. No buyers. Probably 'cause the only place around is a place called Jr's, which provides for 0% of your daily needs.

- crik, creek, crik, creek, crik, creek, crik, creek, crik, creek, crik, creek -

Not a fan of these stairs.

I reach the bottom soon, and land safely on the cement basement floor. It doesn't go far, however, as the corridor only extends a few feet until it takes a 90 degree turn to the right. What's odd about it though is that there's a soft but sufficient light emanating from wherever the hallway leads room. As I said before, this house has been off the market for about a year, so this place doesn't have electricity.

Sigh.. Not that something so 'trivial' has stopped my father from making impossible things before.. I round the corner, and the hallway immediately opens up into a much more spacious room.

There's a lot to look at.. Unfortunately, Cooper was right about the contents of it. I'm not really sure what any of it is.. There's workbenches on either side of the room, both with a half-finished machine politely resting on it's surface. Next to each workbench are shelves, filled to the brim with boxes; some of which are even placed on the floor.

The lights aren't connected to any obvious power source, but that doesn't surprise me much. My father's business didn't make big bucks until after he had already died, so saving electricity where he could makes sense.. Hilarious how he didn't just make a living off of selling these things, instead of going down the 'hellish robot' route.

I stand in the doorway, unsure of what to look at. This place is nothing short of a mess, but every piece of scrap or machinery on the floor looks deliberately placed there, or looks like it serves some kind of purpose..

Despite not knowing where to start, I shift through the basement. The room isn't all that big, in reality; more like the hallway's walls and ceiling just extended 6 feet in each direction. Reaching the back of the room where the boxes are littered don't take very long.

Afton's plans must have been laying out in the open somewhere, 'cause searching through all of this would have been impossible.

I reach down to pick up a box and hoist it up onto one of the work benches nearby. I take a peek inside and rummage around, getting desperate to find at least one thing that I recognize in this mess. Discovering that rummaging around is getting me nowhere, I decide to take the contents out of the box one by one in attempt to figure one of them out.

..Nope

..Nope

..Don't think this is a machine.

..Nope

..Hey look, an empty glass. Now I can say I recognized something.

..Nope

..Nope

..Yep. That's a prosthetic arm.

I lift it out of the box and place it where there's room. It really is an arm.. Maybe it's not entirely a prosthetic, but an arm that an animatronic was supposed to have? Or maybe a prototype? A reject? I don't know. There's a slot to slide an arm into, which makes me think it was designed to be worn by a human, but I can see how it might have been intended for an animatronic.

Aside from that.. I can't really identify anything else about the arm. It's convoluted, and not particularly clean looking. Form is function, I guess.

I turn my sights back into the box, and stare at the remaining gadgets inside of it. It feels like I'm staring into a well of untapped power, with the only limitation being my ability to understand it.

I sigh as I rummage around a bit more. Somehow, this place was both infinitely grander than I expected, while at the same time being underwhelming due to my inability to comprehend my Father's work.

- Ring -

The noise makes me flinch, despite how common the sound is. I guess I wasn't expecting to get interrupted down here.

I flip my phone out of my pocket and look at its screen to see the caller ID, only to be met with a powered-down monitor.

I stare at my phone for a second or two, wondering how it was ringing while being turned off, until my eyes catch the light shining on my arm just a few inches away from the phone.

My Faz-watch. I forgot to take it off when I left work an hour or so ago. Freddy's calling.

I feel an urge to ignore it, but if Freddy's watch is anything like mine, he can probably tell that I've got my watch on me. Doesn't leave me very many excuses to ignore him.

Sigh

- click -

"Freddy?"

"Michael! Are you doing alright?"

"I'm alright, what's up?"

"I was going to call someone else, when I spotted your name still lit up on the list. Are you still in the facility?"

"No, I forgot to take the watch off. I'll return it here soon."

"I understand. Feel free to keep it for today, you're the only one who uses that watch anyway."I hear a rustling coming from Freddy's end, slightly overpowering the rustling I'm doing. Apparently, this catches both of our attention, as we both look at each other's video feed at the same time.

Freddy's somewhere he usually isn't, he's somewhere in the basement. The 'deep' basement.

"Where are you?" I ask, just beating Freddy about to ask the same question.

"There was something important thrown in the trash by mistake, I offered to see if I could find it."

"Huh.. That place is pretty hard to get too, even with my full access pass." I respond casually, satisfied with his answer. I continue rummaging through what little is left in the box.

"I was given special permission. Hopefully, I should be able to find it before the facility opens." Freddy continued, not sounding very sure of himself.

"Good luck. That place is bigger than it has any reason to be."

I replace the contents back into the box, and fold it up neatly. There were a few other small gadgets I discovered that I decided I might take with me. I don't know what they do now, but they appear to have a simple purpose, and look easy to use. So maybe I can figure them out just by messing with them for a while.

"Thank you.. Now, what about you?"

"You mean about where I am?"

"Right. There.. Appears to be a lot going on in there.." I see Freddy bringing the watch up close to his face and squinting, probably trying to identify anything in the room. Good luck with that.

"Is that an arm?" Freddy inquires, though more likely just asking to confirm that he wasn't making a mistake. It's pretty hard to misidentify that thing.

"It is. Not a real one, if that's what you're asking." Even with the lights, it's pretty dim, so I might as well elaborate on that before Freddy starts thinking the worst.

"I hope not! What are you doing with it?"

"I'm in an old shop, just a friend's who like to tinker-"

I stop myself again. Dammit, Rox. 'Not lying' is going to get me killed one of these days..

"It's.. The workshop of the man who created your plans. This is where cooper found those."

I see Freddy bring his face even closer, suddenly intrigued.

"Is that so! What are you looking for?"

"Nothing in particular. I used to know the guy personally, so I figured I'd poke my head in and see what I could find."

Not the greatest fan of how I worded that. Makes it sound like I'm robbing from a dead friend. I shake my head a little, expelling the thoughts.

"Interesting!" Freddy continues. If I don't wrap this up soon, I might never escape all of Freddy's questions.

I take another look around the room, tossing the glass I found in the box to myself as I scanned.

"I'm having a hard time finding anything of value, though. I'm not sure what most of these things do." I interject before Freddy continues talking, hopefully deflecting any questions before he has the chance to ask them.

In the corner of my eye, something tinkles. On the workbench on the other side of the room, there's another glass just like the one I'm holding now. Curiosity starts to get the better of me, and I start shuffling my way over.

"I've heard he was a man of mystery. You knew him personally?"

Mm. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that. I'm sure he has a few questions about that as well.

"I was related, but the two of us were never that close."

"Ah, I suppose that makes sense."

I reach the other workbench and chuckle under my breath. Something about the two of us talking with each other, both exploring some dark decrepit hole in the ground like some sort of tomb raiders. I take another look at the glass.

"What is it you're looking for?" I ask, changing the subject.

I stand right in front of the glass.. There's something in it, but I can't identify what it is. It's like a liquid, but the way it moves is unusual.

"A piece of kitchen equipment. Slid right into the disposal."

"Fun times."

What in the hell is this..? It's almost chromatic, and looks like it fits perfectly between the gap of liquid and gas.

"I have an idea of where it landed, and it should not be hard to identify in the mess." Freddy elaborates, scanning whatever room he's in.

Is it like.. Is it a drink? Maybe it's something he used for his inventions, like a special type of oil or something.

"It may be difficult in this darkness, however.." Freddy continues to talk to himself in the darkness.

I'd venture to guess it wouldn't be down here if it wasn't important to his inventions.

Probably not oil. I can't imagine too many of the trinkets down here have something that actually needs oiled in them. So it's gotta be something else he..

Something else he used. Something else Wiliam Afton used.

It's Remnan-

My body moves before I can even finish the thought, the bottle flies from my hand and shatters on the opposite wall.

I stand completely still and watch the substance run down the wall, behind the workbench. Only after a long few seconds pass do I cognitively recognize what just happened.

I'm still standing in the pose I was when I threw the bottle. My breathing is slow, but heavy. My hands are sweaty, and my eyes have dilated to almost pinpricks, my ears are ringing.. I can't tear my eyes from off of the point of impact, it's like I'm waiting for the substance to make a move.

Holy shit...

I retract my arm from it's outstretched position and stand upright, staring at my palm. There are small glass shards stuck in my hand, a couple of which are drawing a very small amount of blood.

I had 'zero' control over myself the moment I recognized what was in the bottle. I can't even begin to describe the swell of emotions; it's like everything I had ever felt towards my father and remnant had resurfaced and hit me all at once. Hate, terror, despair, regret, everything accumulated all at once, and every ounce of it was telling me to destroy that glass.

Any confidence I had before that moment has completely dissipated now, leaving uncertainty to eat at me in it's wake. I don't know what to do. All I can do is stare at the wall, my attempts at remaining stoic slowly failing.

I... I gotta get out of here.. I-I've seen everything worth seeing down here, I need to go. I need to leave. I just gotta-

Just as I feel the panic build up, the ringing in my ears begins to fade, and I'm immediately alerted to my watch.

"Mike!.. Michael!"

I shake my head to try and force myself to focus.

"I-I'm.. Freddy?"

"Michael! Are you alright!? What's happened?"

I dare to pull my watch in front of me and take a peek through the video feed. Freddy's desperately trying to get my attention, completely oblivious to the task he was assigned before.

"I'm, uh.. Sorry, I didn't mean to stop responding.."

"Are you alright!?" Freddy asks, practically begging for any answer. I take a deep breath.

"I'm Alright, I'm fine.." A lie

"What happened over there?"

"I just-.. I tripped on something and knocked over a glass." Another lie

"You scared me half to-.. You were breathing heavy for a worryingly long time, Michael! Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." Again.

"Do you need help?"

"I don't need help." That one's debatable.

Freddy continues to look frantically through the video feed. I stare at him back for a while, before he eventually takes a deep breath to calm himself.

"I feared the worst when you stopped responding, Mike."

"I was stunned, wasn't expecting it."

"You..." He sighs "Alright.. as long ad you're sure.."

"I'm sure. Can we talk later? I need to.. Clean the mess I made.."

"Of course, Michael. Don't be afraid to call."

I'm certainly not gonna call during the daytime hours, but I appreciate the gesture.

"I'll let you know if I need anything. Thanks Freddy."

"Goodbye."

- click -

...I think my sight has gone purple.. I've got to get out of here..

Without missing a beat, I make a 90 degree turn and powerwalk to the stairs.

Only when the cellar is closed and the carpet is returned do I dare take a breath.

It's moments like those that make me wonder stuff like.. 'If I wasn't already a corpse, would that have killed me?'

I've never had a heart attack before, so I don't have any kind of reference, but I'm pretty sure the stimulation I felt down there would have given me twelve of those.

I fall back and sit on my bed from all those years ago. I'm not sure how good of an idea that was, 'cause now my legs feel like they'll never want to walk again.

...

Of course I would have found Remnant down there.. I can't believe I never even considered it as an option. Once William had his hands on remnant, he used it every chance he got, so the chance of finding it in a 'secret lair' of his exceeds 100%.

For some reason, when my father died, I had completely expelled the possibility of Remnant still existing somewhere. Of course, his death didn't change anything; given the right tools, he might have still made some while in that Spring Bonnie suit.

...

I've got to leave. I don't know how I plan to get this feeling of dread off my chest, but I feel like getting far away from here would be a good first step.

I stand, and don't move. It's such a weird feeling, almost like a curse. This place is full of bad memories, and hellish inventions. Every corner of this house reminds me of my father, and my father's work. But I can't help but feel like this is where I belong. I was part of this story; the animatronics, the children, Remnant, Henry, my father, I was 'there'. Everything here has something to do with me, one way or the other, so it makes me feel like I belong here, like this is where I'm supposed to be. And just like everything else, it was all supposed to end at the same place at the same time. I was there, at that place, at that time. I was there when the story ended.

I was there when 'my' story ended.

But I'm still here.

I'm. Still. Alive.

...

I just don't get it. It's like a cruel joke from the gods.

Everyone has a place they fit into. Whether that place is a good place, a bad place, a place they love, a place they hate, or any mixture of them all, everyone has a 'place'.

My 'place', is in the past. Somewhere I can't go, no matter how hard I try. So I'm stuck here. Stuck without a place or without a purpose. It's like the universe thinks I stopped existing already, and took my place and purpose away. But I didn't die when I was supposed to. So I remain, with nothing but purple skin and an outlived purpose.

...

I take my first step forward, and my body carries me onward from there.

I still want to survive. I don't want to be done yet.

I've been through this exact thought process more times than I can count. Every time, I reach the same conclusions: 'I shouldn't exist', 'nothing is left for me here', 'I have no reason to keep going'.

'I need to stop.'

But I don't. I never do.

And I couldn't for the life of me tell you why.

Maybe it's just human instinct, the primal urge to stay alive. Maybe I'm scared that the story isn't over yet. Maybe I'm scared of hell.

I don't know. But whatever the reason, it keeps me walking forward, just as I'm doing now.

...

I almost bump into my car, having navigated the house and driveway entirely by instinct. I stare at my reflection in the window for an unusually long time, before my watch abruptly vibrates, visibly lighting up in the reflection that I'm staring at. I take a look.

Roxanne - What the hell are you still doing here?

Roxanne - If you're standing around and being useless somewhere, come here. I'll find something for you to do.

Despite my current situation, I can't help but snicker at Roxy's line of thinking.

Michael - I left with my watch on by accident, but I'm nearby. You need help with something?

Roxanne - Dumbass.

Roxanne - I'll put it off for now, but you're helping me when you get back tonight.

Michael - Dealio.

Roxanne - If someone asks why the track isn't set up all the way, I'm blaming you.

Michael - I am not in any way responsible for the track's condition.

Roxanne - You're about to be.

Michael - If I get even one call, I'm telling them every embarrassing fact I can think of about you.

Roxanne - You will not.

Roxanne - You don't even know anything embarrassing about me.

Michael - How truthful those embarrassing facts are is of no concern to me.

Roxanne - Mike.

Michael - Rox.

Roxanne - Die.

I shut off the watch, assuming the conversation is over, and climb into the car. Chuckling the entire way in.

I'll never get tired of messing with her, not in a million years. Maybe 'that's' my new purpose.