A Fearful Reflection

Sunday 31st May 2015, 18:46 PM

The sun was just about dipping over the horizon by the time they'd crossed through the trees. Though they were becoming steadily more comfortable in the area, the two of them were still checking for any onlookers. With how their luck was running, the last thing they needed was for their only hideout to be compromised.

It had been as they were crossing back through one of the homesteads when Carl had broken the silence. "They're probably back by now. I think we've found all we can from around here. You want to go meet up?" Offering a shrug in response, Mike hadn't offered much other than to turn and walk in the right direction.

So they made their way back towards the main road and towards the clearing with the lone house. Carl couldn't really say that he missed that building; that morning had been the only time they'd spent in it, but it was already more than he was happy with. The fact that they were now to sleep under its creaking rotting roof sent a small shiver down his spine.

You've slept in worse places, he steadily reminded himself as his hand groped for the silver cross hanging from his neck, and most of them you were without friends.

A sideward glance betrayed him as he took another look at Mike, whose eyes were glued to the ground walking slightly ahead of him. A quiet weary sigh escaped his lips. Neither of them had spoken much other than to discuss the information they had obtained.

Mike was upset with him, of course. After their conversation earlier. Though he wished he'd chosen his words with a little bit more care, Carl couldn't see how else they would've been taken. Mike and Samantha's constant arguing had been more than he could handle, on top of all the other problems they had.

The last thing he wanted to do was play Devil's advocate, but what else could he do when on member of their party had grievances against another? Especially when they were ignoring that part in their argument?

On one hand, Mike had been his friend and comrade, riding side-by-side into Hell twice. On the other, Samantha had been that shoulder to cry on for near on twenty years. He was her and Thomas' children's Godfather, for Heaven's sake!

Shaking his head in dismay, Carl tried to find some light at the end of the tunnel. Once we regroup, we can figure out what comes next. I just hope luck remains on our side just a little longer…

As they approached the house, Carl kept his eyes open. Stepping up onto the front porch, he knocked a nine note tune onto the door before hearing the footsteps approaching. His hand tentatively closed in on his gun until he heard the responsive seven note tune and relaxed.

Samantha opened the door carefully and gave him a small smile before fully opening it. The two of them stepped in as Ella entered the room.

"How'd you boys get on?" She asked them, glancing at both. Perhaps to gauge their feelings.

With a weary nod, Carl shut the door. "Not bad. What about the two of you?"

"Well, we learnt all sorts of things. Turns out, these people have all sorts of stories. Quite the history for such a small town. Fortunately, some of it was useful."

"Then let's hope that we didn't just find out the same thing." Mike mumbled, taking off his coat and throwing it onto the table they'd found.

Sitting down at the staircase, Carl allowed himself to relax. "Since the two of you have been waiting this entire time, did you want to go first?"

The two glanced at each other before Samantha started to explain. "Well, it started with finding out some of the history about this town. Things like how back in the seventies, a diner called Fredbear's was opened. Small town, nothing but a local business. But it ended up getting closed down."

"Only it didn't stay closed. It ended up reopening and rebranding as, I suppose you've guessed it, Freddy Fazbear's. Of course, it was then only open for another two years before being closed again. The point is, it meant the Missing Children's Incident was never the beginning. It didn't close because of bad business, or as a change of location. Something happened there, and it all started right here, in New Harmony."

Carl pondered that for a moment. "Perhaps it was what happened to the child. The one killed outside in the alleyway. The Marionette."

"Maybe." Samantha hesitated, "But I'm not completely convinced. I went through all of Tom's files. The body wasn't found for some time. Yes, there was a missing person's case filed, but would that have been enough to get the place closed?"

"So if it wasn't that, then what? What else could've happened?"

"I don't know. But that's what I would like to find out. It's just finding the place that's the issue. No one seemed to want to share that little fact…"

Carl nodded in understanding. "Well, then I suppose you'd appreciate me telling you that Mike was able to find that little tidbit out."

Immediately looking up, Samantha's eyes went wide. "Wait, you did?"

With a small shrug, Mike spoke with a somewhat subdued tone. "This one guy had a few old newspapers. When I say old, I mean ancient. One, as it turns out, was dated around the time the place got released. Had a picture and everything. The neighborhood in it looks nothing like it did, but we had a quick look. It's definitely there."

"Great!" Samantha looked between the two of them. "So where is it?"

Carl slightly blew air for a moment before answering. "That's where you're going to be a little bit annoyed. It's about two hundred yards away."

"Uh, wait, what?"

"It's been right under our noses the entire time." Carl explained, "But getting in won't be easy."

"Okay." Samantha spoke slowly, "Could you, um, maybe go over that again? What exactly do you mean when you say it was just down the road the whole time?"

"I suppose I mean it was just down the road the whole time." Carl said plainly, "Or, to be more exact, just over in the neighborhood past the trees. Had we chosen to go right instead of left, we would've ended up in spitting distance away from the front doors. Of course, we wouldn't have known. We checked it ourselves; the place has been stripped on the outside. Looked more like an office building."

Samantha seemed to agree. "That makes sense. From what we heard, the place is a bad memory for anyone who remembers it. If the owners hadn't taken everything with them when they moved, the townspeople would've stripped and burnt anything remaining. There might not even be anything left."

"Maybe not." Carl admitted, "But it's just about the best lead we have. What's left of Fredbear's lies within that building, stripped to the bone. And we know something most people don't; such as the backrooms that could've been hidden."

Mike spoke up at that, "Honestly, I'm surprised the building is still standing. Are we sure they didn't knock it down and built a new one in its place? The only reason why Freddy's didn't get burnt down after the whole thing blew up back in '94 was because the Police and the Government were keeping an eye on it."

"It's entirely possible." Carl sighed, "We're not going to know for certain until we check it. Tom still had some photos of Fredbear's interior in those files, didn't he? We can cross reference them to be sure. Surely enough of the walls must still be intact. I can't imagine that the layout will have changed."

Leaning against the wall, Mike seemed troubled. "I can't imagine we'll have been the only people to break into that place. I remember the state of the pizzeria belonging to the Toys'. There were squatters, garbage, and graffiti all over the place. Maybe we're dealing with something similar. There's something off about that place. I don't know…"

"You think we might be dealing with another ghost?" Carl asked him sincerely.

"Maybe. Let's just hope it would be as welcoming as the Marionette was."

"I honestly cannot tell if the two of you are being serious right now." Ella mumbled, which Samantha couldn't help but smile at.

"I had to learn about most of this third hand." She spoke light-heartedly, "You're not alone."

Standing up, Carl felt resolute in their path forward. "Then I suppose our next course of action is to break into that building and find what remains. Either all we'll find is rat droppings, or the next big reveal that makes us question everything we've learnt up until this point."

"Agreed." Samantha stood up and began to collect her things. Blinking, Carl gave her a questioning look. She returned it. "What? We know where the building is. Let's go."

"That might not be a good idea just yet."

"It'll be dark out in less than an hour. Why wait any longer?"

"Because you're talking about a night entry." Carl explained, "On a very notorious building that probably has dumb kids sneaking in every other night. Which means we'd either risk running into one or two, or someone will spot us, call the Police, and then we'll be running the risk of having them sniff around here."

Pausing for a moment, Samantha failed to find a counterargument. "That's fair. So, a day entry?"

"I think that might be our best bet. Commuters will be away and the kids will be at school. We go in the morning, we should avoid any onlookers."

"And we'll all be back together." Mike said dryly, "Jack's still out, remember? He's good at finding nooks and crannies."

Carl stumbled for a moment when he realised Mike was right. "That's a point, actually. Where is Jack?"

"I don't know." Mike shrugged, "Probably still following up that lead?"

"He said he'll be a bit longer." Ella eventually stated, uncomfortable. "He texted me about an hour ago. Looks like whatever lead's he's following is taking longer than he expected."

"Which is why I had a problem with him going off on his own." Carl shook his head. Right again. "Not knowing where our people are is a very good way to close the walls in around us."

"And I mean no disrespect," Samantha continued, "but don't either of you two find it unsettling that he didn't even ask for you to accompany him? I didn't want to say it earlier, but it's unusual that he didn't even trust his allies with what he was doing."

"I'm sure he had a good reason." Ella replied, though it was clear that she didn't even believe herself.

Steadying himself, Carl looked at the two of them. "I understand if you might not be wanting to hear this, but Tom had a very strict way on how things worked during one of these investigations, and I agreed with him why. This is a team, one with a clear objective in mind. The last thing we need is one of us playing freelancer and hiding things, no matter how unimportant."

Though he seemed slightly bristled, Mike barely showed it. "I'll tell you the same thing I said to Tom when he told me he didn't trust Jack: Don't you think I made sure to background check the people I decided to work with? He's one of us. No doubt. I trust him."

"Then can you tell us where he's gone and what he's doing?"

"He's following a lead. That's all I need to know. He wouldn't have crossed a couple thousand miles just to stab us in the back, if that's what you're thinking."

"I don't doubt his loyalty." Carl reasoned, "But I've seen friends die because of secrets. You'll do well to remember that."

Monday 1st June 2015, 05:21 AM

Mike never felt the relief of slumber that night. Though his body had grown still and his mind foggy, he could still feel his consciousness glued in place as he laid there on his rough sleeping bag. Summer heat made him sweat and he eventually gave up on trying to get comfortable, his mind racing for some time before he became practically a zombie.

On the other side of the room were Carl and Samantha, nearby and seemingly asleep. Closer to Mike lay the form of Jack, who had eventually returned home at some point in the night, subdued. It had taken every inch of Mike to stop Carl from questioning him. Whatever this was all about, Mike knew that Jack would tell them in his own time.

One sleeping bag remained empty. It seemed that Ella had changed her mind, as had Mike, about sleeping outside the house. Since being under its roof and under its shadow weren't at all that different, and there was less security away from the others, they had both simply decided to shrug off their trepidation.

Ella was likely the one on watch that night. Quietly climbing up and trying not to wake the others, Mike left the room and headed towards the front door. He needed some air.

Stepping out, he could see Ella was stationed by the front porch, sitting down in the dark, her eyes open like a hawk. A foolish man would have thought her to be asleep. The two exchanged a look, Mike giving her a smile and Ella returning it with a questioning, concerned look. Mike shrugged and mumbled, "Nothing. Just couldn't sleep."

Though Ella seemed to accept that, he could tell that she wasn't convinced. "I'm here to talk when you're ready."

"I appreciate that." Looking around into the fading darkness, Mike could see over the horizon, hidden by the trees, that dawn was slowly approaching. "I'm gonna head out for a bit. I won't be far. Just need to clear my head a bit."

Stepping down the porch, Mike began to head down the path, through the bones of the forgotten neighborhood. Though the road had never been properly finished, he could see the tell-tale signs of the plans for more houses. Had this area ever been finished, their hideaway would have been a lot harder to remain that way.

Any silver lining right now, Mike thought to himself dryly.

He knew exactly what was on his mind; in just a few short hours, they would be heading towards Fredbear's. At least, what was left of it. The thought of standing in the shadow of that place chilled him to the bone. Even if it was simply a shell, devoid of any identity and lacking the ghosts that he surely knew dwelled within, it still disturbed him.

Stepping off the path, Mike began to make his way across the barren fields into the treeline. There was more light now, to the point where the night's darkness was all but a memory. Though it meant he could now see his own two feet stepping in front of him, it also came with risks. What if an early morning jogger came through? The last thing he needed right now was to get spotted.

They were lucky that none of them had been recognised thus far. It wasn't like they were that far away from Hurricane; all it would take was someone with a long memory to put two and two together and this whole operation would fall.

Looking back where he'd come from, Mike could see the house still. As much as he hated it, he knew it was best to keep it in view wherever he went. Which was easy enough, since it stood out like a sore thumb from where he was standing.

As he treaded through the underbrush, Mike's thoughts drifted from one concern to another. It felt that with each passing day, he was getting closer to losing it all. The walls were closing in. He knew that. Not only with what happened in Fazbear Frights, but everything else. It was all going to go out of control at any given moment and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.

How long would he have the luxury of someone watching his back? True enough that neither Sam nor Carl had any reason to help him out, but even Jack and Ella were drifting. He used to feel comfortable enough to share anything with them, but that had gone. It had been his choice to follow them here; even with the risks of going off on his own, wasn't it better than standing right here, under that house's shadow?

None of them truly knew. None of them could ever understand. It had been why Jack's own ordeal had been something Mike could relate to. A lifetime of regrets and seemingly no opportunity to make amends for it. Even when he'd met his friends in that void and helped them find each other and move on, that feeling still hadn't left Mike.

Hell, he hadn't even figured out how to tell that what happened in there. As far as any of them could be concerned, he'd dragged them all into Fazbear Frights, went off on some sort of weird trip, and came back without any sort of elaboration. Then it was all left bitter by the loss of one of their own.

Closing his eyes, Mike once more felt that pain in his heart. Perhaps the only one he could've shared the truth with died because of him. None of the others could. Jack and Ella never experienced what they had and Samantha hated his guts. The only one who might've understood had just told him that they weren't at all good with each other.

Why am I still here? Mike once more bitterly considered as he trudged along.

For some time, he continued to walk through the treeline, wrapped up in his thoughts. There was a slight breeze which sent a small shiver through his body. Then, his movement began to slow as he stopped in the middle of a small clearing. He could feel the hair on his arms stand up and he might've blinked in confusion, had he not felt his lungs struggling.

Parts of his vision darkened slightly and he could feel his heart flutter in his chest. His confusion only grew when he felt the lack of wind. Had that really been a breeze? In this weather? As he looked around, the hair on his arms began to sting like needles. A deep thumb was coming from inside his own head and he knew it to be his pulse.

What's going on?

The sunlight gleaming through the trees seemed too bright in colour. Breathing in deeply, Mike continued walking, but suddenly he felt far less at peace than he thought he'd be. Though he could hear the crunching of the leaves beneath his boots, they seemed muffled and far away. It was that thumping in his head, thought slightly quieter, which overwhelmed him.

His footsteps began to grow quicker as his thoughts became rapid and volatile. As he did so, his eyes darted from place to place, trying to catch any movement within the trees. Was he being followed? For a moment he would see a shape in the distance, but within a moment it would clear up and he would see it to be nothing more than a jagged tree.

Looking over his shoulder, he couldn't see anything back there. But he could feel his every instinct telling him that it wasn't just his imagination; as the realisation that he was being followed came down on top of him like a ton of bricks, that heavy beating in his head became a warning. Trying to keep himself calm, Mike continued walking, but made a point to change his direction away from the house.

Was it a Nightingale? The idea that this little trip for fresh air had exposed himself and the group to their hunters sent a spasm of fear through Mike as he tried to figure out what to do. He couldn't see the tail, hidden in the trees and the foliage. Why hadn't they made their move yet and struck him down?

Perhaps they didn't know where the others were and instead want him to lead them back there. Trying to control the fear, Mike clawed at his anger. He couldn't let that happen. If he were to die right here, amidst these trees and with all of these unresolved issues, the last thing he would do was bring his allies down with him.

Seeing the trail to his right, Mike began to quicken his pace towards it. He knew the area well enough that he had a chance either to shake this lead, or to get them far enough away from the house. His vision began to clear up and that thumping quietened as he left the trees and went down the trail.

A minute down the trail revealed the crossroads. He slowed his breathing for a moment and then, as he reached it, he burst into a run down the left. His feet hit the dry ground as he ran, looking back every few moments to try and lock eyes on his tail.

But as his lunges began to burn and his feet became sore, he had to slow down. As he finally stopped at some point on the trail, wheezing, he waited for the moment that his tail would slip out and end him.

But they didn't. Blinking with exhaustion, Mike gazed around and found himself alone. Silence around him. As the seconds turned to minutes, the thought that he had been mistaken dawned on him.

But I was sure…Mike almost mumbled to himself, what else could it have been?

When he finally came to the conclusion that this elusive lead was not about to show themselves, Mike felt embarrassment fill his bones before he began to make his way back, lungs still burning and feet sore.

Shaking his head for a moment, Mike tried to understand what had just happened. Had he somehow managed to imagine himself being chased? How on Earth had he done that? True enough that he hadn't actually seen this tail of his, but he was better than that.

After reaching the crossroads again, Mike stopped and looked around. Going through every little detail he could see. Trying to spot any onlooker, on the ground or in the trees. When he didn't see one, he knew it to be true; somehow, he had been mistaken. Closing his eyes and sighing, Mike moved back into the brush and made his way back to the house.

His embarrassment and adrenaline wore off as he tried to find the funny side about it. He couldn't, of course, but at least he wasn't dead. But as he got closer to the house, that feeling began to fill him again and he could feel his hair standing on edge once more.

That thumping in his head came back and he tried to push through it, but his lungs were struggling and Mike thought he was about to collapse-

Whispering. He heard it, somewhere. Halting in his tracks, Mike felt his legs become like cement blocks as his eyes sought the source of the whispers. But it was like they were rapid, coming from all over the place and then vanishing.

Then he heard the breathing come from behind him and he span on the spot, almost feeling his pale-white face. When he didn't see anything, Mike could feel himself become dizzy and he reached out to a tree for balance.

It was when he heard that horrible laughter, one that sent forgotten terror through his veins like ice-cold water. That was when, against the pain of his feet, Mike stumbled and turned around slowly, arms outstretched.

He saw the thing in the distance, so far away and yet so close. He couldn't make out the features on it, but he didn't have to. That thumping became overwhelmingly painful and his vision betrayed him. The thing became closer for a moment, then far away again, and darkness overcame his eyes and it was like his entire world became outstretched, impossible shapes and vectors.

He could finally allow that gasp to escape his lungs and his legs became automatic, his entire body turning and breaking into a run again. He turned his back to the thing and he ran.

By God, all he could do was run.

Around him, the forest had grown darker and even though he had been able to see the house from there before, it seemed so far away now. He kept looking behind him, trying to catch sight of the thing once more, but it wasn't there.

Then he looked to his right and for a moment he saw it in the branches of the trees above him, those red eyes staring down at him. But as he gave that jittery cry of terror, the eyes faded and it wasn't there anymore.

They were watching him, coming and vanishing all at once. Flashes came of things Mike knew weren't real. Things he knew were. He continued running and saw it nearby a fallen tree and he was about to scream when he couldn't see it anymore.

It's not real, Mike's thoughts raced, pleading, either to himself or to something else, it's not real, it can't be real please it's not it can't be.

How had he not reached the house by now? It couldn't have been this far away! Though the adrenaline burnt through his body's pleads for him to stop, he could feel his legs begin to fail him as he raced, knowing he had to reach sanctuary. It was safe inside the house. It had to be.

Every time he looked in any direction, he could see them staring back. But then he couldn't see them again and all he could do was run. His body was ice-cold and he felt like every step was a mile away. All he needed to do was get back to the house. They couldn't follow him there, surely not where the others were?

Hearing the whispers and breathing again, the thumping in his head barely dulled them. They were coming from everywhere and he knew them not to have a source. How could they? It was like the entire forest had been rigged up with speakers that were blasting the noises at random.

That was when he saw the opening of the treelines into the clearing with the house. Reaching out in desperation, Mike's vision was blinded by the sunlight as he reached it. He didn't stop running; he was at the back of the house. All he needed to do was get around the other side and-

His feet failed him as he stopped, very nearly falling onto the barren fields. He saw the window opening above him, the second floor. One of the bedrooms. The glass had been smashed at some point, but all he could see up there was darkness. Darkness, and that shape looking down at him.

She stood there, watching him. Stained yellow and impossibly tall. Her costume was broken and rotting, exposing the endoskeleton's grisly bones and sharp fingers. Rows of sharp teeth, like an anglerfish, smiled back at him. One eye glowed a frightening red while the other followed his movements, a pale blue, lifeless.

In her left hand was a plate, a broken purple cupcake on top with a candle sticking out. Its own eyes seemed to stare back at him with such vitriol hatred. As he could only stare at her, still as a statue, Mike's vision encompassed the remnants of the glass of the window. The sun bounced back and Mike could see himself in it, standing alongside her.

But Mike knew it couldn't be her. The figure in that reflection was blue, their purple eyes drilling holes in the back of Mike's head. As he spun around with a pained gasp, Mike lost his footing and fell onto the ground. Expecting to see the rabbit standing towering over him.

It was gone. Gone before Mike could see it. As rushed backwards, still on the ground, until he reached the edge of the house and his back against an old fence post. Staring up at the sky,, Mike felt his lungs thumping in his chest, struggling and clawing for any air. His hand groped for his heart and he could almost feel it. All around him was either darkness, or impossible colours.

There was a voice, but he couldn't understand it. Even as the shadow fell over him and the hand reached for him, he didn't acknowledge it. The hand went to his shoulder and the voice became louder for a moment, but then stopped. He then felt the hand leave his shoulder. Mike squeezed his eyes shut.

He felt the hand slowly squeeze his own. For a while, the thumping remained, but his breathing began to slow over time and his head, though still painful, started to muffle the thumping. Finally, he could hear the voice.

"Breathe." Ella said to him, "Deep breath. Okay?"

He did so and felt his lunges aching, but capable of it. He breathed, and opened his eyes again. The colours were no longer so bright. He felt the cold sweat dripping from his skin and he knew for a fact that he couldn't stand up even if he wanted to.

"Th…thank you." He could barely whisper.

"Just keep breathing." Ella told him, and Mike couldn't bare to look into her eyes, "Mike…what happened?"

"I…" Mike spoke out, trying to understand even for himself, "I don't know. I thought I saw…"

"Saw what?" Ella asked him, but when she saw he couldn't answer, she didn't push him. For some time, Mike and Ella sat there, all the pain on the world crashing on top of him.

I know, a bit of a hiatus again. I was hoping to get another chapter done for a double upload today, but it didn't materialise. I'm hoping to get one or two more done by the end of the year.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: I had to do a decent amount of research when it came to Hurricane and New Harmony. One's got about twenty thousand people, the other's not even got a thousand. Required a bit of a careful touch when it came to the details. With the fact that Mike and Carl are the only two members of the group who actually witnessed what was inside the Toys' pizzeria, they know exactly how difficult it can be to dig up evidence there. As for Jack, I definitely feel at this point that he's proven trustworthy, but you can't blame Carl for not liking the idea of him doing his own thing, when Caine wouldn't have either. He's involved deeply, perhaps just as much as Mike is, but the extent is still up in the air.