Chapter Nineteen

Will There Be Light?

With how much Fazbear Entertainment, not just William Afton himself, was able to get away with over the last decade, was there ever gonna be any hope for a light at the end of this tunnel they were in?

Those people had to know their security guards got killed and wrote it off as simple disappearances while the families never got closure. They had to know the dark secrets but didn't care about their employees or anyone else getting affected, so had to threaten to sue employees for defamation, also establishing for the future that they were not liable for damages.

Their silence and inactions spoke much louder than words, just as much as the binders full of blueprints, the videotapes recovered that the group forced themselves to watch...everything spoke.

"Here's what we're gonna do..." Henry was telling them all, and now here they were.

There would normally be the police chief at night, along with a security guard for the cameras, and that was easy for Charlie to float in after being brought in through the police entrance, addressed directly to Officer Clair Grace, and with secret explicit instructions in a sealed envelope which was written with fingerprint-less letters cut from magazines spelling out CONFIDENTIAL. Gabriel Grace's sister would at last get the source and message, and hopefully, it wouldn't backfire. Charlie would find a way out of there and back to them when all of this was over.

As soon as midnight struck, the puppet was out of her box to the officer sister of one of the five missing children of '85, and the fun would begin.

~o~

"Just before dawn, police have issued a warrant for the arrest of William Afton -"

"About damned time," Melinda said over a bite of toast before they heard the next bit:

"- except for the fact the old suspect in the cold case of the Missing Children Case of '85 has not been found upon the APB placed at every street."

WHAT?!

Why was that not a surprise? Everything with William was premeditated. He'd fled, knowing that he'd been caught, and when he would emerge again somewhere else - there were all-points bulletins, so he couldn't flee town - he would do so with a roar. The group was positive he'd find them if they didn't act next.

~o~

She was here with her husband and Clara. The place was closed off because of the police presence. They hid behind bushes and got a speaker connected to headphones so that they would listen in undetected.

But as soon as they got there, they saw the two police officers parked at the entrance to make sure nobody got near the premises, not even the man behind the horrors underground. The conversation could be overheard by them, one a young male rookie and the other a seasoned middle-aged veteran:

"- knew it was him all along, but they let him go because the kids were never found," the older man muttered bitterly, leaning back against the hood of one of the cars, his younger colleague folding his arms across his chest while his superior sipped on a lukewarm cup of coffee. "And just when we had him, he slithers away like the snake he is."

"Clair had a brother who was one of those kids, didn't she?"

A sharp exhale from the elder. "Yeah. She's a good kid, so was Gabriel. She was just a teenager then, and I got two kids of my own, so I kinda understand the frustrations of babysitting a younger sibling. I keep telling her that she's making it up to him this way, and now that we got that damned evidence about this place - whoever left it for us without a goddamned DNA or fingerprint trace did a good job helping us; maybe it was a mole like some are saying, but I doubt it - we could finally bring some justice to the kids." He shook his head. "Wish it could heal the families that were broken apart by that maniac. And just like that, he's fled us again."

The younger gulped loudly, and it would have made the watchers laugh if not for the situation. "Because we know he killed James and Ilene Lyons, the reporters who were investigating the disappearances, along with that one disgruntled worker, and his own daughter was killed by that thing when he wasn't looking, just like his youngest boy at Fredbear's. And we also know his company as a whole doesn't give a shit about anyone getting hurt, so they won't compensate the damages, and cover up their own asses right under our noses." He sounded like he was having an out-of-body experience, in a nightmare he wanted to get out of. The feeling was mutual.

"Makes me worry about Clair then."

Time halted then, and they could NOT afford to miss out on this.

"This is what now? Night three at that place? The pizzeria where that last guard had apparently gone missing, but no DNA to point to foul play was found? Yeah, sounds like corruption, right? And she's right in the lion's den when someone else could spare her the trouble. Conflict of interest."

That was all they needed to know, and now they knew where to go next. It was barely eleven at night, so they had plenty of time to get there.

"OH, and what's this about 'remnant'? Sounds like sci-fi horror shit I'd never believe."

"You got me, kid. Afton's as insane and disgusting as what he's done. But I trust Clair and her balls to find out."

~o~

If they'd gone into this without Charlie's intelligence, they would have been dead meat.

If one or any of them had gone in without knowing the active hours of the animatronics possessed by the murdered children, they'd still be dead meat.

Again with going in blindly, William would have gotten them immediately.

"I know this place has cameras in and out, like Fredbear's," Henry told them all. "We got enough time to go up to Clair Grace and tell her everything we know, assuming she's still alive and fighting it out."

Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place was dead ahead in front of them. The rectangular, dirty ivory building from her and Michael's childhood - and Jeremy and Melinda's, too - and the neon sign of Freddy himself with one hand raised in a shout-out to Chuck E. Cheese were foreboding instead of instilling thrills...the good kind. Inside was another level of this nightmare they were gonna face.

Not only would they try to get Gabriel Grace's sister on their side, or monitor how the four animatronics inside functioned, but his wife had an idea they would have called unorthodox and dangerous if they'd tread lightly.

"If we could at least communicate with them like with Charlie, or if she could get through to them for us..."

"...they'll know we're not the enemy, and maybe they can give us whatever info they know," Michael finished for her, liking this and hoping it would go there.

Here they were now, all standing outside as a group.

You could see nothing from out here, peeking through the glass doors and windows, and just a few things here and there with a flashlight. Henry reminded everyone about the power thing which the company struggled to afford even with everything happening and the lawsuits nearly draining them. The same thing could be said with the new management. "Cheap bastards," Clara spat. "What do they do if the power goes out?"

"Miss Grace will be able to say more - if they haven't gotten to her yet," Henry answered nervously. He then diverted his attention to the button console to their rights - the call button. "That's it." He wasted no time pushing it, and all they could do was wait with bated breath.

Michael took Kaleia's hand into his - he felt her pad brush against his ring that bound him to her - and put his hand on Jeremy's right shoulder for comfort while the blond did the same to his left, Melinda scooting closer to her fiancé and wrapping one arm around his waist. Henry and Clara stood in front of them all, the older generation taking charge for the moment because one was a former co-founder and the other being the ex-wife of the other.

Moments passed, feeling like an hour before they saw a figure approaching them from the darkness within, a light beam that could only belong to a flashlight illuminating their direction. When the figure finally reached, the door was unlocked from inside, and a young woman's voice snapped at them. "People, we're closed after hours. Come back tomorrow."

"Miss Grace, that's not why we're here," Henry said, not beating around the bush, and making the woman who looked like she was a couple of years younger than Michael freeze.

"Who are you?"

"Henry Emily. We're here because of everything, and we want to help you. Can you at least let us inside before we waste more time?"

She seemed to get the message, not speaking of the horrors currently dormant until the approaching witching hour. "Okay, but we all take this in the dining area...where they are."

~o~

"Henry Emily. Clara Afton -"

"Schmidt," her mother-in-law butted in coldly.

"- Michael Afton -"

Now her husband snapped. "Schmidt, too. We're no longer associated with evil."

The brunette woman just looked at him before going on. "And the rest of you - Kaleia Kai, as you were called, right? Your parents were killed while investigating the story. And you two are friends of theirs who just got caught up in this." Clair Grace fixed her attention on Melinda and Jeremy. They were all in the dining hall, at one of the tables, and a half hour before midnight, when THEY would awaken. The place was as Kaleia remembered it: the party tables covered with white plastered with colorful confetti, vertically lined with party hats down their centers; the chairs were even fashioned to look like Bonnie's guitar! The linoleum floors were still checkered black and white. And there was the great wall where children's drawings of themselves and their favorite animatronics were hung. It made Kaleia wonder, for just a moment, if hers was still there, but she was sure it was.

Pirate's Cove was on the wall to the northeast of the stage, if you were directly on the main stage, that was. The starry purple curtains were drawn, partially opened to show nothing but darkness, and flanked with the OUT OF ORDER sign for poor Foxy. If I were a kid again, I'd think that. But now, as an adult, it's "poor" for a different reason. I feel sorry for whichever child possesses the fox.

Clair Grace wasn't statuesque, but she was attractive enough to get a boyfriend if she wanted to. Kaleia had no idea about those personal details, but that wasn't why they were here. Didn't stop her from admiring the chocolate locks in a braid down her back, her matching eyes dull with the years behind her. From being rejected by her own parents for something she had no control over, something normal of teenagers which Michael had hated doing a long time ago, to suffering long enough even after becoming a police officer. Now she was in the lion's den, as her colleagues put it. She showed it in her strained, tired, features, but it didn't stop her determination to help take this place down from within.

"I'd thought this nightmare would never come to an end, but he's still on the run." And they all knew who she referred to. "I'm sure he'll come here, but I'm ready. I have orders to shoot and kill on sight if need be because we have the evidence. He evaded justice before, and while it won't bring my brother and the other kids back, at least we've stopped him from doing this to anyone else." That showed just how much she'd grown up. Vengeance lit up on her face and in her eyes, enough to get the blood boiling to thrilling levels. "I look forward to seeing his blood on the floors of this place."

Clair then furrowed her brow. "But now I hear you guys gave those binders of blueprints to my superior. And you got away unscathed from those machines." Her face fell then, looking at Kaleia again. "I'm sorry about your parents...and about your kids," she added when she glanced at Clara, who closed her eyes and turned her face halfway away, nodding mutely.

"And Michael...if I'd seen you before this, I think I would hated you on sight and wondered if you were just like your father, but tonight showed me enough. I guess you guys are all here to help?"

"Exactly what I said," Henry answered firmly, then looked up at the stage. All eyes followed suit.

To think all of us, once upon a time, loved those mascots and did so much stuff with them. Everything from secretly complaining about what our parents did or told us not to, you name it, to wishing they were alive to be friends.

Now?

Now five innocent souls were trapped in those things - but where was the fifth?!

Don't go away: more to come. (devil smirk)