"This…is a change of pace." Mike mumbled to himself. He was in a dream again, but instead of being met with a disheveled haunted house: it was like it was in the present. There were even shades of people milling about with the sound of indistinct, idle chatter. It reminded him of the vision he'd had, when he learned Alice's name. In a booth, Mike cautiously looked around. It reminded him of what he'd seen after his interview. Bright and friendly, like it was supposed to be. Even still, Mike wasn't about to let his guard down. Especially after his run in with the killer. After glancing this way and that for a good while, Mike reluctantly resigned himself to settle down. Just a bit.

Still sitting in a guarded posture, arms folded on the table in front of him, he looked at the table, noticing something in front of him. He didn't recall anything being there prior, but this was a dream. On a platter was a normal-sized pepperoni pizza and beside it was a soda, of some kind. Mike stared at the presented meal. Unsure about trusting it. Knowing his luck, it'd probably turn into something horrific, becoming covered in bugs with blood for sauce. On the other hand, this was just a dream.

"Ah, fuck it." He pulled a slice of pizza from the rest, looked at it for a moment then took a bite. Thankfully, it didn't turn horrid. Just regular pepperoni pizza. Not bad. Hot cheese and plenty of it. Just the way he liked it. Was this how the restaurant made it in real life? He'd hadn't eaten at the last one he worked at. Didn't trust it with how run down it'd been.

"Hello…?"

The soft, sheepish voice caught Mike's attention. Somehow, he'd heard it above the background noise. It was soft yet emphasized, like the volume of the crowd and music had momentarily quieted just enough for it. Startled, Mike looked up. At the edge of the table on the other side from where he sat. The pizza slice dropped from his hand. There, visible from his point of view, was the figure of a little girl in a pink dress, with curled pigtails. Her form was only marginally clearer than the others. Rather than a smear in a vaguely human shape, hers was simply hazy, out of focus, almost sketchy.

It took Mike a moment to find his voice, "…Alice?"

"Hi, Mike." Alice answered quietly. Even though he couldn't see her face, Mike got the sense of a tiny smile from her meek tone. It was essentially blank, with only the faintest impression of features. Faded smears of green where the eyes should be. Silently staring, Mike watched as the child climbed onto the booth seat across from him.

Recalling most of their previous interactions, Mike wryly said, "Here to try and scare me away from going back again?"

She shook her head, "Uh-huh." She fidgeted where she sat, the air about her turning troubled. "I know I can't do that now…" Mike uttered a dry laugh. Even a ghost realized he was too stupidly stubborn at this point. "And he needs to be stopped. He wants to escape."

Mike's posture straightened. "How?"

"He's using someone. Another guard."

Immediately, Mike knew she was talking about: Gregor. This sent a bristle of alarm through him. "Wait, then he could've already left."

Alice shook her head again. "Not yet. He wants to make everyone pay. He's mad at them."

"You mean, the other workers?" Mike wasn't sure who else it could be. He thought back to the photo of the guy in the parts and services room. He'd guessed correctly when Alice nodded.

"And you. He won't be happy I helped you escape."

This confused Mike. "You helped me? But I left the tablet at the reception desk."

The ghost girl lowered her head, partially muttering, "You went to sleep while he was hurting you. So…" She seemed worried about continuing to speak, hesitant, "I got you to move."

Mike stared, dumbstruck. "You- possessed, me?"

"I'm sorry!" The sudden yell startled Mike. Before he could respond, the ghost-child immediately continued at a frantic pace, "I-I just didn't want him to kill you! You're just trying to help my friends and- I, I didn't want you to die, or watch him hurt you even more!"

Mike's alarm softened, he leaned forward, over the table, trying to get to where the kid's eye-level should be, "Thanks Alice. Sorry, I was just- surprised. Okay? I'm not mad." When the air about the spirit lifted, Mike thought aloud, "Makes sense why Mitch found me outside the pizzeria." That settled, Mike steered the conversation back to their real issue, "Okay, so he wants to finish me and the workers off first. We'll need to warn the staff. I'll have to talk to Mitch about that. He's been there during the day more than me." He was speaking mostly to himself, and Alice didn't speak again until he asked, "You wouldn't happen to have an idea how to deal with him, would you?"

"Mn," Alice hummed uncertainly. The noise left Mike feeling doubtful whether he'd get answers, not that he'd blamed the lost kid, but to his tentative relief she answered, "I know where his body is..."

While not a direct answer, the information certainly caught the night guard's attention. He promptly asked, "Where?"

Alice held up two outward pointing fingers. "In the back hall, between the parts and services and that room where the adults sit around in."

"The breakroom?" Mike guessed.

"I think so." Alice nodded, then added, "It was sealed up like the last one."

Thinking about what he'd been told, compared to the back hall. It made sense. There was an odd amount of unused space. The back of the building was a straight hall, and the two rooms weren't enough to fill the big gap. Further, there was no reason for Alice to make this up, considering who it concerned. That still left, what to do with this information? He could think of one thing, "Would burning his body do anything?"

"When he broke my friend's ani-ma-tronic bodies, it forced them out." Alice answered uncertainly, saying animatronic in a clunky manner indicative of a child. She tilted her head, recalling, "But, we were still around after that. And I don't have my suit either."

The answer left Mike with the feeling that, if anything came of burning the body- it'd be temporary. Likely piss him off too. Wait, Mike looked at Alice, he needed to be certain his assumption was correct, "His body is in a suit, right?"

Alice nodded. "He got spring locked into his Spring Bonnie costume."

Mike pulled back to the booth's backing, holding his chin thoughtfully. Alice looked at him inquisitively. The adult was thinking hard about something, and she waited to hear his idea. Mostly to himself, Mike said, "Maybe, if we bury him…" He looked back to the girl then sighed himself. If she knew, she'd probably not be here…Was there a way to forcibly put a murderous monster to rest? His "unfinished business" was killing everyone who'd pissed him off. The only clue he had was the thirty years of inactivity. "Alice, when left alone. Did you all… just rest? I guess, not sure how to put it."

"Uh-huh, sometimes, we'd wake but only for a lil'bit." She answered with a nod.

"Alright. I might have an idea. It's worth a shot, hopefully, we got to do something." Mike sighed. Knowing that monster was about to kill more innocents, he couldn't just slog through nights now. He had to do something. No time to spare. Meaning, not time to rest. "Okay, Alice, I need you to wake me up. Can you do that?"

"Wake you?" She seemed puzzled by the request.

Mike elaborated, "Yeah, like how I'm always woken from these dreams."

"Oh, ok." Alice replied, now understanding but not seemingly thrilled, but it was needed. However, before that, she spoke again, "Mike?"

Now Mike was puzzled, the child sounded wary again. The tone a child took on when worried about getting in trouble. "I'm…sorry about attacking you, when you were younger. Can...," she hesitated, "you forgive me?"

For a labored moment, Mike stared, stunned. Then, his expression melted into one of sad comfort, feeling for the child's tense fear. Even still, it took a moment for him to find the right words to put her at ease. How did one go about this? To a child at that. Eventually he found his tongue, remembering how to speak, but even after all that Mike was uncertain if he picked the correct sequence of words, "Of course...I, how could- why wouldn't I?" Hearing how inadequate his answer was, Mike elaborated, "What I mean is, I know you attacked because of everything you've been through. After all those years of nightmares, hallucinations, I think- I understand what it feels like to suffer, all the pain and fear. It can make you lash out. Thoughts all scrambled. You don't know what to do but to do something. Anything to make it stop." He smiled sadly, "I know it's not what you're going through, but I know you weren't thinking clearly, or were yourself."

Alice's face hazy, Mike couldn't really read what far faded expression she had, but with the slight shift of her posture and shift in the air it was felt. She relaxed, reassured. The air was left lighter now.

"Thank you, Mike."

Mitch, sat on the floor in a corner of Mike Schmidt's trailer home, fidgeted with his cellphone again. The battery was steadily lowering, yet he really hadn't done much on it. At least it felt that way. His eyes were glazed over, unfocused. His fingers shifted to and fro on the screen, opening one ap, scrolling, open another app, stare at the screen, scroll, so on and so forth. One of his thumbs had developed a rubbed dry sensation on the tip. If he were to be asked what he was reading/watching, Mitch wouldn't have been able to answer. The previous night before yesterday, he'd gotten a good sleep, now he felt like he'd gone a week without sleep. Mind a fog, it was like he wasn't even in the present, just running through sets of sequenced actions. So, when Mike suddenly sat upright on the sofa (where he'd passed out) it snatched the teen right out of his ague. Reality hit him suddenly and he was left feeling like he was about to be attacked. No attack came, leaving Mitch bewildered.

"What the-" He fired off.

On the sofa, Mike was panting, hand holding up his forehead. He himself coming back into focus, took a moment to respond, though his answer left Mitch no less confused, "Jumpscare."

Mitch could only stare blankly.

Sitting himself up, Mike waved the teen over, "Come'on, we got some planning to do, and I just got some information that could help us."