Account 1-11 Case # 6392

Subject: Michael Solomon Afton (Fritz Walter Smith)

Location: Hurricane, Utah, USA

0603 hours (1353 hours), July 2nd (Jun 26th), 1985

Mike awoke just outside of the restrooms facing the dining area. The lights were on, he could hear the animatronics singing, he could see families sitting at the tables. He did it! He had survived the night! He could finally get out of here and try to comprehend whatever the fuck just happened to him! He tried to walk out of this cursed place, only to find he couldn't move.

Fear and panic gripped him as he tried to move his arms, his legs, his head, but nothing would budge. He couldn't even move his eyes. It wasn't over, he was still trapped!

"What the hell is going on! Please don't tell me those things did something to me!" he thought to himself.

On cue, his view turned to the right, and he was greeted by the sight of the puppet he saw before he blacked out. It hovered there, giving him the same empty stare it gave him in the security office.

"What does this thing want?"

Seemingly able to read his thoughts, it began to spell something out in a fuzzy, awkward robotic voice.

'R' 'E' 'M' 'E' 'M' 'B' 'E' 'R' 'T' 'H' 'E' 'M'

"Well thank you for being specific you bastard."

The puppet vanished in a series of flashes and static droning. He noticed that behind where it once stood was a door labeled 'Safe Room'. The door creaked open revealing someone wearing a golden bonnie costume. The figure slinked its way out of doorway like it was trying to keep quiet. He didn't like the look of this person, but it seemed the only thing he could do was sit there and watch whatever was about to unfold. Watch as this person closed the door behind them and walked up to him until they were 1 or 2 feet in front of him. His view then moved upwards to look at the person. They were tall, looming over him as he stood just out of the view of the crowd enjoying the show. Their costume looked impressive for a prop used in a children's pizzeria. Its body was bright yellow, wearing a purple vest, its mouth was tilted so it always looked like it was smiling, and it had usable five fingered hands. It would have looked whimsical if not for the situation he was in. Then it spoke in a croaky voice that he unfortunately knew all too well.

"Hey buddy! Enjoying the show?"

His father, William. How did he manage to get back into the restaurant? By all accounts he had fled the area. Was he the one responsible for his current paralyzed state? His entire psyche demanded he punch him, get the fuck out of there, do anything other than just stare at him. Instead, he heard "his" body speak in a child's voice?

"Yeah, but we haven't gotten to the Foxy part yet. He's my favorite."

"This isn't the fucking time to be concerned about a children's show!" he told "his" body.

"Well luckily for you we've actually been looking for volunteers for Foxy's show."

"Really! Can I see Foxy? Please!"

"Of course you can Buddy! what's your name?"

"My name's Fritz! Fritz Smith!"

Fritz Smith? That was one of the children who went missing! Suddenly everything began to click, Fritz Smith, his father, Remember them. He was in the past! The puppet wanted him to view the stories his father's victims.

"Alright then Fritz, let's get you into the prep room over here so we can get ready for the show!"

"Well, this can't mean anything good."

Fritz followed William through the door into the 'Safe Room'. Oddly, the 'Safe Room' didn't feel like a room, but rather a long, dimly lit hallway that led to a large open space in the back. Despite not being able to control Fritz's body, he could feel how cold it was, how stale the air was, but most of all he could hear that damned humming again! After a short walk down the corridor they entered what he guessed was the 'Safe Room' proper.

Fritz and by extension Mike scanned the area. Against the back wall was the generator Clay mentioned and a series of arcade cabinets, their screens glowing a bright blue despite there being no obvious reason for them to be turned on. Against the left wall was a gray table with various power tools on it. And against the right wall were the two original animatronics for the restaurant, Golden Bonnie and Fredbear.

"So, this is what's being kept here."

He noticed that Fritz reeled back at the sight of the robots. He couldn't blame him, the kid was only 8, he was used to seeing the lively robots on stage, not the rusted remains of a bygone era. He pointed to the robots and turned to William.

"Uh… what happened to Freddy and Bonnie?" he asked, concerned and scared.

"Oh, those two? That's just Fredbear and his old pal Bonnie. They used to run this place, but then they got old, and Freddy and his pals came in to take their place."

"Why were they replaced?"

"Well things get old, things die, as of now nothing lasts forever. But don't worry, I'm working on something that can allow anyone to live forever. No one will ever have to experience being replaced ever again!" William said, his voice getting progressively more erratic.

"Live forever? What the hell did Kane task Father with doing? What had he done to those kids?"

"What… What's going on?" Fritz said, starting to softly cry in fear.

"Hey kid, I think Fredbear wants to tell you something!" William said ominously.

The room went silent, deathly silent, even the irritating humming he heard earlier was gone. Fritz turned to face the animatronics against the wall and was greeted with a horrific sight. The once mildly rusty Fredbear animatronic was now smeared in a purplish black liquid, it reeked of the smell of death and rot, and in the middle of its eyes were the same white dots that Mike saw when Fredbear stood outside his office. Fritz began to cough and threw up due to the stench. Then Fredbear began to talk.

"Help me! What happened to me!... I can't move!"

This cry for help wasn't a prerecorded voice line. It sounded human, emotional. He could hear the fear and despair of this person. But what disturbed him the most was that he recognized the voice. It was his brother.

"Evan!"

How was this possible? What had his father done to him?

Evan's voice was soon snuffed out by another voice, one that sounded like a young girl, slowly getting deeper until the end it resembled the voice he heard during the armored car sighting.

"Sorry about that! Some people just aren't used to living like us. But I know you will, welcome to the family."

Following "Fredbear's" message, Mike felt two arms wrap around Fritz's body and a rag being placed over his mouth. He was being chloroformed. He felt him try to weakly fight back, but it was no use, he would soon slip into unconsciousness, now fully at the mercy of William and that 'thing' inside Fredbear.

Account 1-11 Case # 6392

Subject: Michael Solomon Afton

Location: Hurricane, Utah, USA

0603 hours, July 2nd, 1985

Mike woke up on the floor of the office, face down and out of breath. He coughed and gasped for air, noticing he finally had control of his limbs again. It seemed that was all the puppet wanted him to see for now.

He got up and looked around his office. The lights had turned back on, and the puppet was now gone. He checked his watch, 6:03 AM. He breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in the swivel chair.

"What in the actual fuck was that!?" he shouted to himself both in relief and confusion.

He came to this place seeking answers but had gotten more questions instead. What happened with the time? How was the puppet able to show him Fritz's kidnapping? Why did he keep hearing that damned humming sound every time something weird was going on?

He buried his head in his hands. How could he know if any of this was real? He couldn't remember whether he took his medication after all. But if that were the case, why was he so lucid during all these experiences? He could remember them almost perfectly and he hadn't acted in a way that seemed irrational when he was experiencing them. Yet again if he was crazy how would he even know if he acted irrationally in the first place? He needed proof, he needed undeniable evidence that something bigger was going on and that he wasn't just seeing things. Then the smell of rot hit his nose.

His head slowly turned to the left, where he noticed a big dent in the wall. Something massive had been thrust against it, just like Fredbear was at the end of his shift. Around the dent were globs of the same dark purple goo he saw on Fredbear in the dream, no the vision. He had found his evidence. What he went through that night was real.