"So… How's everyone's day been?"

Jim asked his two friends in a quiet voice, pretending that he didn't know the answer. Mike and Lamar knew that, too; it became something of a ritual for them. Every time their group would meet up in a cafe or a restaurant could be anything that wasn't Freddy's location, they would try and pretend that it was alright. Mike's heart always inevitably raced at this pretense, and it all got worse with every passing day, making it very clear to him that it would never be the same. All because of their stupidity…His stupidity. Even now, Jim could barely speak without avoiding eye contact. Lamar did the same, but it was even harder for him to conceal his pain. Out of Mike's friends, he was the most traumatized. He would breathe heavily and, at times, sob, avoiding talking, something he never did before. Mike was not the one to show his emotions, but the sheer emptiness that consumed him could not be recounted with words. He didn't listen to Chris, made him suffer for all Mike's bitterness, and am eventually this…He didn't want to kill his brother, but even when it came to such a cruel prank, there was no excuse. Mike saw it clearly now, so clearly that even thinking of this idea seemed maniacal. The last few months taught Mike a lot and made him realize many things…But no amount of reflection would bring Chris back.

Maybe that's why he tried to pretend sometimes. Pretend that nothing happened, that they didn't kill Chris, that they did not face court and charges, barely escaping imprisonment by the sheer force of miracle, that their young lives were forever stained with manslaughter…And most of all, that an even younger Chris's life will never spring. That they robbed him of a future he deserved. Nothing could make Mike repay this debt, not until after death when he stands on his knees before God and Chris himself.

"Well…" Lamar tried to speak calmly, but he still stuttered even when swearing a simple question from Jim. "I am alright, I think. And you?"

"As always," Jim responded coldly. "Not much to do; at least I can study again…"

They all thought of the same moment Mike thought, no doubt. When the four fools stayed in a cell, awaiting the decision. How Lamar wept in a nervous breakdown, how Blake cursed everyone around him, angry and spiteful, of how Jim sat silently, only sometimes shaking…And how Mike simply cried, completely surrendering to fate.

They might have been let go, but their lives would never be the same again. Blake was always seen as a bit of a jerk, but now people saw him as an outright monster. Lamar started taking pills, and even those weren't enough to entirely calm him down. Jim's girlfriend, Jane, left him, an act which Mike considered traitorous, as he knew how much Jim regretted it, but he saw the reason for it very clearly. As for Mike, he didn't even want to think about his father…

"And you, Mike? Up to anything?" Jim wondered.

"No, not particularly…" Mike looked away and clenched his teeth, knowing that whatever they tried to talk of, everything would circle back to a single topic.

"Found a job somewhere?"

"I wish…But even if I tried, it doesn't seem like anyone will allow me anytime soon, not after…You know, having that in my record."

"Fuck…" Lamar sobbed as he looked down to the floor and shook once again. "We're never going to find a job, are we?" His voice grew quieter as tears began to emerge on his face. "Fuck, what have we done…Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Jim spoke up. "Did you take your prescriptions this morning? I thought you said you should feel better after them."

"I… Don't remember." Lamar froze and spoke in a shaking voice. "Damn…I didn't take them with me, or did I? Damn…" He began searching his pockets in a frantic manner, trying to find his pills. A painful, if not outright pathetic, sight which made Mike take a deep breath. Perhaps he should've helped Jim calm him down, but at this point, he didn't think there was any point. They couldn't help themselves any longer; all of this could've been prevented if only they had some self-conscience on their minds, and Mike most of all. "Where are they?! I…No, I don't want to think about it again, fuck, no!"

"Come on, man, take a deep breath." Jim tried to encourage him. "You did just fine earlier today and…"

"They're gonna take me into an asylum; they…"

"No one's taking you anywhere. Just calm down."

Before they could speak again, a fourth figure emerged in the doorway, making his way toward others. It was Blake, and his disposition was quite relaxed, which Mike discerned from his movements and a smile…How could he be so calm and uncaring? Looking at him made Mike question the kind of people he called friends.

"What's up, guys?" Blake slid into the last free chair and looked over the other teenagers. "I just came back from carting. That was amazing! Should definitely try it again, especially with how close the facility is."

"Blake, not now." Jim shook his head.

"What, why? Oh, Lamar…" He looked at his friend with disapproval. "Seriously, you're still having those meltdowns? Come on, man, you're not going to cry about it all your life, will you?"

"Jesus…" Jim sighed. "Can you discuss this when he's feeling alright? You're making it worse."

"When is he ever feeling alright? No time like the present."

"Don't…" Lamar stuttered. "Don't you fucking understand what we did? WE KILLED A CHILD! A living fucking being…We killed him!"

"Fredbear did, not us." Blake shrugged. "Not like we knew this would happen, we just wanted to have a good laugh, and I think we all agreed this was funny…And we were let go, so why do you guys care now all of a sudden?"

"You know, for some, it's not just about getting off scot-free." Jim sighed with resignation."

"Then what is it about?"

"We…Killed him!" Lamar shouted once again.

"Pipe down, or they'll force us out," Blake said negligently. "This was just some random crybaby; why…Well, to all of us except Mike, and that shit was his idea. If he didn't give a damn about his pissy bro, why should we?" This was enough to make Mike seethe. Without holding back, the teenager jumped up from his table.

"Do not speak of my brother like that! Show him some respect!" He shouted in fury, looking into Blake's eyes. His 'friend' chuckled and didn't show any remorse.

"What, now you care about respect? Like the respect you showed Chris?"

"You fucking…" Mike ran and hit Blake in the face, the teenager did not expect this and recoiled, but the shock lasted only for a moment.

"Oh, you're gonna regret that." He shook his head and rushed at Michael, punching him in response. "Stop being such a hypocrite, and don't pretend like you ever cared about that boy."

"I…" Mike took a deep breath. "I made a mistake, a big mistake, but if I could go back and change it, I…"

"Well, we all would change it if we could, but it's not like we can, huh? It seems to me you three are annoyed because I don't care about that boy…Well, sorry, I am not wasting my time and energy on him."

"You fucking asshole!" Mike was about to run towards Blake, but Jim stood between them.

"Calm down! "He said commandingly, causing both Blake and Mike to look around. The few other visitors watched them with shocked gaze while the waitress was already preparing to call someone, most likely a guard. "Or else we aren't staying here much longer…"

"You know, for some reason, I lost my appetite," Mike said with disgust.

"So easily?" Blake smiled. "Sorry for not apologizing for your mistake, I guess."

"You're an asshole, Blake." Mike clenched his teeth and fist. "In the worst way possible…Fucking scum of the earth."

"Where does that put me in relation to someone who killed his own brother and now tries to blame others for it?"

Mike wanted to make him suffer, to hit this bastard and beat him to a pulp. This wasn't his friend; this was a cowardly bully who sought out any possible victim, including his 'friends.'

"Blake, stop, please…" Lamar spoke up. "We killed him. It's our fault, just…Just understand this!"

"He wasn't my brother, and as I said, it was an accident…"

"Enough," Jim spoke up once again. "Let's calm down and sit for a while; we can figure this out later."

"No, I think not." Mike shook his head. "Sorry, Jim, but I think I'll leave before I want to kill this fuck. See you…Some other time."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Fine…Be careful out there."

Mike turned around and walked away, not even looking back. He didn't want to see Blake's disgusting, arrogant smile ever again. He didn't want to see anyone at all, in fact…All he wanted was an opportunity to see Chris and beg for forgiveness, even if it was too late. However, Blake was right about one thing.

Most of the fault lay with Mike.

…

His awakening was the beginning of yet another hell, completely opposite to the one Chris suffered before but no less agonizing.

He still remembered the first emotions that he felt when realizing he was inside of Fredbear. Or at least his essence was? Chris never thought about what he believed, but he knew there was something magical in this world, something supernatural in mysterious…Though this wasn't how he imagined this at all. He liked to believe that it would be relieving and joyous, not so…Oppressive. Was it something that happened to all people? Did their souls rest in objects that were near them when they died? It was a cruel existence…

He was locked on the stage in the body of the animatronic that crushed his head, his mouth still covered in blood. The physical pain was no more, but something much worse came along. He couldn't move. No matter how Chris wanted and tried to direct the animatronic, he wouldn't take a step. It was like being frozen in a block of ice, feeling everything that was happening around me but unable to call for help, cry, or move. Complete separation from reality, a ghost none would see.

It didn't last forever, though. It didn't even last long.

From what Chris understood, they decided to close the restaurant down after his birthday and discard Fredbear and Spring Bonnie; this was something the workers discussed over the next few dies. It happened soon; both Chris and his soulless stage mate got taken to the safe room by a few strong workers. He still couldn't show any signs of life now; Chris was consumed by the realization that he would spend an eternity in a dark room alone in an animatronic suit, dusty and forgotten…Just like Fredbear himself.

It wasn't long before he lost count of time.

When he found himself amidst the darkness, Chris tried to dream. It wasn't the same as sleeping while he was alive; the soul could completely disconnect from the world and attempt to see dreams…Chris always despised dreams, but even they were preferable to seeing the silent back room where he was buried beside arcade machines, tables, and even rubble. Everything that once graced the restaurant with its presence was now gone. A place to forget, to bury and let go of…Chris wished he could just let go and completely obliterate himself. He didn't care if he went to Heaven or Hell or even just ceased to exist…Anything as long as he's safe.

Especially considering that his dreams were still as excruciating and terrifying as before. He would see Mike and his friends cackling and mocking him, slowly transforming into nightmare animatronics…And eventually, they would force him to wake up screaming. Or at least feel like he screamed. The animatronic remained the same, silent and unmoving.

This day was no different. Or was it night?

Except today, Chris thought about his family again. Thought about how they would feel without him and felt grief approaching…Dad would be heartbroken; he didn't want Chris to die, and the boy knew that. He didn't know why his father did something so horrible with Lily, but his last words made it sound like he wanted to protect Chris from something horrible…He didn't know what to feel.

Mike was the only one Chris didn't care to think much for. There were moments when he thought that perhaps he could forgive him after seeing him apologize for accidentally killing his brother. But those moments of sympathy were very short-lived…It was his fault that Chris had to suffer, his and only his. Mike deserved everything that happened to Chris and more.

And Lizzy…She must feel so lonely without him. Even thinking about how broken and pained her voice was back at the hospital made Chris feel his heartache. Did she see him die? See, the jaw crush his face? Elizabeth was the only person that made the last weeks of his life bearable, and now he passed on his trauma to her, even if inadvertently…It was his fault.

Suddenly, Chris heard the door to his side creaking, followed by hasty steps. There was a man, a worker of the pizzeria, judging by his uniform. He maneuvered beside the splintered scraps as if trying to find something.

"Couldn't do it himself, could he…Always sending me to look for old shit…" He sounded angry and disgruntled as he trudged through the warehouse, but Chris did not care. Something sprung in his heart when he saw this man; he was the only living soul that came here in god knows how long…When he opened the door, Chris finally saw the echo of light, an echo of life. He wanted to call for help, wanted to be free, but he was still confined to a corpse of an animatronic, a broken body that didn't allow Chris to move…It was his chance, so close to genuinely having a chance to get out…

Chris felt something burning inside of him, something that transformed his essence. His ravaging willingness to break free from this body and curse, to finally see something beyond the confines of this room, be it the light of day or his final demise, he wasn't willing to let this go. He never felt this scorching fire when he was alive, but it was both agonizing and fulfilling at the same time. It made him want more and more and made him yearn for freedom.

"H…"

It was a sound; he let out a sound! Chris could not believe it was possible, but he could swear that the animatronic let out a quiet, almost silent moan. The man did not hear it and continued to search for something among the broken parts, but Chris could feel his heart filling with hope and determination. There was something supernatural in this indeed, and he must try harder…

After the next push, Chris moved. Only a little, he pulled his leg forward and touched one of the nearby parts, but the cling was enough to make the worker turn around towards him. He noticed something.

"What the hell…"

He turned the flashlight towards Fredbear and slowly approached him, looking at the animatronic with caution and interest. His eyes showed fear of the machine; Chris could see it no matter how well-conceived it was. It was sweet to see someone genuinely afraid of him, or at least his shell. For once, the tables were turned. Chris attempted to use the mystical power again, and in the end, he was able to speak through Fredbear's voice dynamic.

"Help…Me…" It was an echoing mixture of his voice, and Fredbear's sudden outburst was enough to make the worker recoil in fear and drop the flashlight.

"The fuck?!" He said in a nervous voice as his body shivered. He grabbed the flashlight and ran towards the exit door as quickly as he could. Chris didn't have time to react.

He would've been disappointed and even heartbroken if he didn't realize the truth of the matter. This worker saw him talk and move; without a doubt, there was at least someone who knew he was here…Who knew that this prison tormented him? Maybe others would come to investigate, giving Chris more opportunities to speak up. Maybe…

Before he could think about this anymore, the man returned, and he wasn't alone this time. He had another one follow him, this time in a blue coat with a yellow badge on it. The intrigue on his face was undeniable, and he looked familiar…

"Fredbear, you say?" His stern voice immediately made Chris realize who it was. Alison Bairren, his dad's boss.

"Yes, sir, he moved and then asked for help! As if there's some soul inside of him…But who could it be? We didn't use this one for testing, did we?"

"No, not Fredbear." Alison shook his head and stared at Chris, further feeding his curiosity. "But perhaps…No, that can't be right; souls don't return."

"Maybe we should call Afton? He's the expert on those robots."

"No! He shouldn't know anything about this, understand?" Alison snapped.

"But…Why?" The worker wondered, but Bairren just turned towards Fredbear again. "If anyone can hear me, I would like you to show some signs of life."

Chris paused, wondering if he should give in. This was Alison, the person who had power over his father and the one who was likely behind the monstrous things all the animatronics did. To reveal himself to him would be like surrendering to a trap, but the power that dragged Chris out of this darkness prevailed.

"Help me…Please…"

Alison opened his mouth wide open as he stared at the speaking animatronic; his face was that of pure shock and disbelief. However, it soon turned to joy.

"Incredible…Absolutely incredible!"

…

"Sorry, man, but you know you're not allowed in here. Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be."

The bouncer was right; William wasn't allowed…He was forfeited entrance after starting a brawl a week ago when he drank too much. William wanted to try his luck after a few days, but this was all he got…Refusal and turning him away. He obliged, of course; there was no point forcing his way. But even so, William had to fight his desire to punch the bouncer as hard as he could, allowing all of his spite out.

It was a common occurrence in the months ever since the tragedy, and it only got worse with every week. William would feel those animalistic impulses, would want to get violent, would want to let out all the rage he's been holding inside himself ever since descending to the facility with Gron. It was driving him insane, and his rising drinking habit did not help.

His days were far from joyous ever since the days of revelations, but after the birthday, they got even worse. They became mechanical, with William only focusing on his job and draining himself with drinking. He had to keep some sanity for Elizabeth; he arranged regular meetings with a psychologist to work through her trauma. She became quiet and withdrawn after the bite, cried much more often, refused to see her friends…William deserved this deterioration for his foolishness; she didn't. He prayed he could still help her…

But the worst moments were those when he thought about Chris. His sweet boy, who cried out for help, help which William could not provide, could not explain why he had to look the other way, leaving his son in the dark. He wasn't the one who put Chris into Fredbear's mouth, but he could've prevented it many a time. And now it was too late…After two years of selling his soul to prevent his children from dying to animatronics, he loses his son to one of them. A karmic retribution for all the children whose lives he stole, a fate he deserved yet will never accept. But what did his acceptance even mean at this point? Everything was lost, everything…

Returning home became as much of a painful drag as any other part of his day, and it was especially horrible with the rain that soured Hurricane almost all day. William could barely see anything through the window of his car. And yet, as he went beside an array of trees, William knew that he was getting close…Close to this place of bitterness and discord.

When William walked towards the wet door, he knocked on it loudly, not having any patience or restraint. William had keys, but he preferred to announce his arrival. Sometimes Elizabeth or someone else would open the door before he took out his keys. Today was much the same…William heard the door opening, immediately allowing him to hear the sound of a TV from the living room. Will didn't listen closely, but he caught someone talking about 'vampires' and 'the baby.' Another of those stupid soap operas he liked watching…At least it's not something related to Freddy; William had more than enough of that at work.

When the door finally opened, he finally saw his oldest son, Mike. His lips quivered, and his eyes looked tense; it took effort for him to continue maintaining eye contact with his father. It was surreal to see this rebel looking down in shame like this…William had no sympathy.

"Hi, Dad." He took a deep breath.

"Hi," William responded emotionlessly and entered the house.

"The rain is awful today; I guess we both got wet when going home…" Mike tried to start a conversation, but the result was pathetic.

"Where is Elizabeth?"

"In her room doing homework."

"Did she have any…Episodes?"

"No, not today."

"Alright…I won't disturb her, then." William walked past Mike and directly towards the fridge. There was a half-finished bottle of beer inside, 'perfect' for the evening. He had some after work already, but he wanted more. Drinking wasn't too different from taking drugs or smoking, it was addictive and destructive, but William found it very hard to stop.

"Father, did you drink today already?" Mike said with concern.

"Yes, and?" The man responded dismissively as he sat at the table.

"You know it's very unhealthy, right?"

"You're not my doctor, Mike, so maybe talk when your opinion is relevant."

"But…"

"No 'buts,' Michael. This is my house, and I'm not wasting my time arguing with you."

"Fine…Whatever." Mike sighed and walked back to the sofa; he took his place there as William poured some more beer into the cup. He needed to drink even if he knew it was horribly unhealthy…This was the only way not to think about Chris and how he failed how…How he and Mike failed him. Their house was never truly happy ever since Clara died, but now it was much worse. The three of them were traumatized and broken, full of shame and regret, and unwilling to talk to each other about them. Much like the rain outside, their home was drowning in something gross, a poison that annihilated their family and left no hope of making amends. Because every time Will would wonder if he should forgive Mike and allow him a second chance, he thought of Chris…

William heard his screams every night, heard his son pleading for help to save him from the jaws of this nightmare, pleaded repeatedly until the poison took him entirely and left no hope to latch onto. He didn't answer his call, kept to his secrecy, thinking that he was doing it for Chris's benefit…Lies lies, all of those were delusions and false promises. But Mike did not have to contain the truth, did not have to lie for the greater good; he did it out of pure spite for Chris. And even though he genuinely regretted it, it would not bring him back, would not grant him the retribution he deserved. All the happiness was broken, and Will still remained a slave; his children suffered and died…Was it all for nothing? This thought was more than William could handle.

Tears of agony and rage fell from his face. He didn't know if all the alcohol he had was no longer helping or if this was even worse than the thoughts he had before. I

He wanted Chris to be here, to run out with a happy smile on his face and tell William about his day. How he would look at his worries and ask…

"Father, are you alright?" Mike's concerned voice caused William to raise his head; his son stood at the table and tried to…Comfort him? Get him to stop drinking? William had all that remained; there wasn't much point in it anyway.

"Get…Away…"

"You need to go to sleep. Otherwise, I might have to carry you if you pass out!" Mike spoke up, making Will look into his eyes once again. This face, this saddened, fearful face…The same one that laughed as Chris flailed inside Fredbear's jaw and screamed for help, the same one that would shamelessly horrify him and allow him no reprieve. The same one that spouts his rebellious vigor at William and then pretends like he understands something. He had so many opportunities to realize his wrong, and yet he had to take it to the furthest extremes. William couldn't hold back.

"Get away!" He shouted and stood up; Mike didn't even have time to react before William hit the teenager on the cheek.

"Ow!" Mike shouted reflexively. "Father, to…"

"Shut up!" William hit Mike again, this time making him fall to his knees. He looked up at his father with pleading eyes full of fear; he was absolutely powerless, while Will had all the control. He was disgusted with both himself and Michael, but he couldn't stop, or perhaps just didn't want to. And besides… "You killed my son, your brother! You made a mockery out of him on his birthday; you made his last moments those of fear! He cried, and you laughed; no matter how much he would ask to stop, no matter how often I would tell you to stop, you never cared! You were the rebellious teenager, thinking that everyone owes you…Well, reap the consequences, then!" Mike deserved it.

"Please, Father, I…I know what I did; I'm not asking you to forgive me! I will have to work to repay until I die…"

"Nothing will be enough!" William slapped Michael again, leaving a reddened stain on his cheek. He knew Mike could fight back if he wanted to, but all the teenager would do was look at Will with tears emerging in his eyes.

"There is no need to fight, I… You're just drunk; just stop and…"

"Like hell I will!" William shouted and hit Mike again. "I see you're about to cry…At least now you understand how he felt when you tormented him and…"

"Daddy!" Elizabeth's scared voice echoed from beyond the door to her room; the lone girl ran out with tears emerging in her eyes. Seeing her made William stay his hand reflexively, though the bitterness still remained.

"Elizabeth…What happened?" William said with concern as he went towards his daughter, who instead would recoil from him. "Are you alright? Do you want to talk?"

"I…I heard the screams and…"

"Leave us." Mike sighed and pleaded with his sister. "It's our talk to have…As I expected, honestly." He looked down in shame, trying to hide his bruises.

"Were you hitting Mike again, Daddy?" The girl's lips quivered.

"I…" William was about to try and justify himself. Try and talk about how Mike deserved to feel like Chris after all he had done to him, but the words escaped his mouth. William felt so disgusted that his lips refused to move; his soul refused to talk.

"It's so cruel, he's… He's my brother too, don't hurt him!" The girl said with tears in her eyes as she looked up at her father with fading hope. "Please, it's wrong… Don't you see, he's hurt!" She would still defend him. After all, he did…William saw Mike crying in shame, probably realizing that he didn't deserve such a defense. She still held onto some hope for him…She was a better person than William was.

"You know what he did, Elizabeth."

"I know, but… It's still cruel." She was right, and there was nothing William could say to argue with her. They were all really tired, and their minds were clouded.

"Fine." William looked back at Mike with disdain in his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn't worth it…It was bad enough; no need to make it worse. They still had many days to suffer through. "Go to bed. Both of you."