The Candle and the Chopper

New Harmony, Utah

Friday 2nd December 2016, 06:05 AM

Tyler was up before dawn, the night sky still thinly veiling the horizon in darkness. Operating with barely four hours of sleep was a recipe for disaster he knew well, but he decided towards it anyway. If need be, I'll camp out on the way, he told himself.

Before he left, however, he brewed a quick drink. Land of the free, he mused with some snark as he boiled the water on the stove, yet they still haven't got bloody kettles…

Once he had properly prepared himself, ensuring that he kept himself light and mobile, he checked his weapons one last time. Satisfied, he armed himself and headed to the front door. Mike had given them the spare room downstairs to stay, whilst he had remained in the master bedroom upstairs.

As Tyler stepped outside into the nearly freezing winter morning, he saw Spencer shivering at his post. With a tap on the shoulder which made the kid jump slightly, Tyler passed him the second cup of coffee. "You've had one, yet?"

"No." Spencer answered, gratefully cradling the hot cup.

"Need to look after yourself in this cold, kid."

"I know."

"I'm heading out soon." Leaning against the wall, Tyler grumbled for a moment. "There's this facility, to the west, up in Pine Valley. Too clustered up there to take a car, so I'll be heading there on foot. Probably won't be back until tonight."

"Okay." Spencer nodded, "Do you need backup?"

"I'll be fine, kid. I've crossed the Iraqi Desert and been up the Himalayas more than once. Utah's nothing compared to them."

"If you're sure."

"What I need you to do," Tyler continued, "is make sure things back here don't fall apart. Remember what I asked you last night?"

"I do."

"Keep your eye on her. Don't let her get led astray."

"I will."

"Good." He patted Spencer on the shoulder, "See you on the other side, kid."

With that, Tyler left the comfy confines of the house and began his journey west into the cold. Having to take a hefty rucksack with him in the situation he needed to camp, he couldn't bring himself to leave his rifle behind. Even with the additional weight on his back, the paranoid part of his brain knew he would regret not having it.

From New Harmony, he headed south-west, up towards the mountains that were glorified hills. Nevertheless, the hike up became progressively more difficult. Near noon, he had passed Timber Mountain, marked so on a big wooden sign near the peak. Relying on his map and compass, Tyler continued steadily on his path.

Fortunately enough for him, once he was down the edge of the mountain, the rest of the journey was on a trail. Pushing forward as the midday sun shimmered over him, yet providing no warmth and comfort, he stopped and took a big breath of relief when the clearing came into view.

Finally there, he thought. Approaching the edge of the clearing, he double checked the map. There was no doubt that this was Whipple Valley, a good stretch of uneven landscape. In the middle of the valley was a facility about the size of a Police Station. It seemed old, like a refurbished mining platform.

With a scowl, Tyler went left for a better vantage point. Something felt off about the facility, a gut instinct that told him it wasn't as it seemed. Once he was at the vantage point, he took out his binoculars and had a better look.

Unguarded, he noted. That was never a good sign. Perhaps it wasn't a palace, but he knew by looking at it that it wasn't abandoned. Shaking his head in dismay, he considered his options. What were the chances that he just so happened to stumble upon this secret Fazbear Entertainment facility the day nobody was home?

Not bloody likely, he told himself. Looking around the edge of the facility, he noted that the north-eastern wall had a jut that would make it vulnerable for someone to scale it. Deciding that to be his best way in, he made the decision.

Keeping low, Tyler began to make his way around the edge of the clearing, until he was confident he was taking the shortest path. Double checking for any security cameras which would catch him, he took a deep breath.

Then, crouching all the while, he began his dash towards the wall. Within half a minute, he was at the wall's edge. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he scaled the wall, landing with a thud on his feet. Then he hid behind cover and took as good of a look around the innards of the walls as he could, looking for any sign of a guard.

Once he was sure there wasn't one, he looked around properly. There were two buildings inside of the walls, a warehouse and a guard tower. Quietly, he began sneaking up to the guard tower and checked inside, finding no one.

This doesn't feel right, he knew deep down. Checking the interior of the guard tower, his caution only grew as he found the room stocked up.

That answered that; the facility was far from abandoned. Fresh construction lay all around the site.

So where is everyone?

Exiting the guard tower, he turned towards the warehouse. The large double front door was locked and even if it wasn't there was no way in Hell he was entering through it. Looking to the side of the warehouse, he saw the rectangular windows up along the gap between wall and roof.

He headed from the second story of the guard tower around the walkway until he hit the windows. Noticing that it was closed yet unlocked, he muttered a dry curse before quietly pulling it open.

Then he climbed inside and landed on some scaffolding. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to see in the darkness, but it was nearly pitch black. With a careful hand, he reached for his flashlight-

And nearly yelped as the scaffolding underneath him rumbled before collapsing.

He landed with a thud and roll, quickly regaining his bearings as he knelt on the floor. Before he could reach for his pistol, the entire room lit up.

With no cover in sight and still just about on the ground, Tyler found himself in the crosshairs of ten men, all firmly planting the sights of their automatic rifles on him.

Tyler remained frozen there on the spot, his right hand hovering over his holster and his left by his combat trouser's pocket. Scowling, he looked towards the men lined up all over the room on the catwalks.

Knowing he didn't need to be told that he'd just walked right into quite the trap, he seethed deep down. Gritting his teeth, he spoke out. "What's this about, then? Could've just asked me politely to leave."

"That's the story, my friend." The man in the centre of the catwalk, wearing all-black gear and the only one without a face mask, aimed his pistol at him. "An intruder broke in, armed, and we took him down. Stand your ground law, you limey bastard."

Nearly curling his lip up at the insult, Tyler glanced around the room. Looking for anything he could use in his favour. All the while, he assessed his rules of engagement. As far as he could see, the only two places he could go was the locked front door, the window he'd just come through…

Then his eyes fell on it. Perhaps his only good choice, but it wouldn't be an escape. No way to avoid a fight.

These guys aren't cops, he decided, and I can smell a hit squad.

A crackle on the radio of the man with the pistol broke the silence. "Give me a sit-rep, Jones."

The leader—as Tyler assumed him to be—pressed down on the radio. "Just like you said, sir. Guy tried to sneak in, matches the description. Orders?"

"We need this problem dealt with. Shoot to kill, granted."

So it's me or them, Tyler told himself, the thought nearly making him smile, good.

"Sorry, friend." Jones said after lowering the radio, "Orders are orders, y'know-"

That was when Tyler reached for the EMP device in his left pocket, the one Carl had designed for these sorts of occasions, and activated it. Distressed shouts from the lights that were suddenly short-circuited came from every corner of the room.

As the lights shut off, Tyler dashed for the left side of the room, away from his only ways of escape. Underneath a stairwell and down into a ventilation shaft. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, faster than theirs would.

As he did so, the shouts continued.

"NV is fried!" One man shouted, as he heard two others scream. The thought dawned on Tyler that the men were wearing fairly high-tec helmets. Perhaps mixing an EMP just gave them quite the jolt?

"Eyes on the target?" Jones yelled out amidst the commotion.

As the chaos up there continued, Tyler began scaling up to the far side of the catwalk. There, he laid eyes on one of the gunmen. Off to the side. Further away from his allies Almost smirking, he acted.

Gripping the man on the shoulder, Tyler spun him around. Before he could let out a yell, Tyler's blade met his throat. Blood spurted out and he choked before the blade went through his windpipe. Then he collapsed, dying, unseen from his allies.

"My God damn eyes!" Another man yelled out, one of the ones kneeling on the ground, pulling his helmet off.

In a moment, Tyler knew he needed to be quick. He pulled left, silently making his way across the catwalk towards the window he'd entered through. Another gunman turned just as he approached him, but not soon enough. Grabbing him around the throat, he stabbed the knife into the back of his neck. A pained gasp came from the man, that was left unheard through his comrades' shouts.

"Does anyone have eyes on the target?" Jones shouted again, yet it was left unheard. In a matter of seconds, his squad of very sure killers had crumbled, unable to hear the last sounds of their fellow man over their own fear.

Except for the one closest to him, who turned, eyes wide. Tyler lunged, reaching the third man's throat just before he screamed a warning. Then he grabbed the gunman, twisted him around into a reverse neck choke, and squeezed down hard.

"Screw this!" Jones finally gave up, "Retreat! Get out of the warehouse, now!"

Five of the remaining six men fled down the other side of the room, down the staircase and towards the front door. All except for one man, who made the fatal mistake of heading the other way. Right into Tyler.

Sweeping the leg, Tyler sent the man crashing down onto his chin. Then he rolled, grabbed the man's head, and went to slit his throat.

"No-" The man tried to choke out before he was silenced. Then looking down, Tyler saw Jones unlock the front door and make his way outside, the others following suit.

Turning to the window, Tyler hurried, getting out of it and towards the guard tower. When he saw that they were aiming towards the front door after regrouping, he nearly cackled. Absolute helmets, he mused before setting up his rifle and taking aim.

Two of his shots met their mark before the remaining three realised where they were coming from. "The tower! Open fire!" Jones' voice cracked before the three did so. Cursing, Tyler jumped out of the window, avoiding the barrage of gunfire and into cover.

Rolling as he landed, he took four shots from his pistol, taking down the remaining two men. He and Jones locked eyes before Jones opened fire on him.

Before he could get into cover, Tyler felt the round pierce his right arm. Bellowing out, he reached the cover, but his grip on his pistol faltered as he made it.

Slowly, Jones circled around the cover, taking careful aim. Heading up the staircase to the balcony where Tyler remained hidden, ready to shoot.

"Didn't have to be this way." Jones breathed, "You chose to come here. You think they won't find you? You and your friends, you're already dead!"

He made it upstairs and closed in where he'd seen Tyler. "Just come out, and I'll make it quick."

Jones passed the spot, oblivious to the fact that Tyler was hanging from the edge of the wall to his right, clutching the rope he'd cut from the construction where he was hiding.

"Really? Hide and seek?" Jones laughed almost nervously, "You're not making it out of here on foot! We've got back-up on the way! Just do yourself a favour, and end this!"

"Aye, you talk too much, boy." Tyler finally said after rolling up from his spot. Spinning around, Jones attempted to fire, but felt the rope slide on his neck, the noose knot tightening.

Then Tyler rolled, falling off the ledge he'd just come from, holding the other end of the rope. The hit squad leader's eyes widened when he saw the rope hooked under a leverage point, a small outcrop by the edge. Without a warning, Jones was wrenched to his ground and dragged, before coming to a stop on his back.

The life was choked out of him as Tyler hung from the rope below him, Sputtering, Jones reached for his dropped rifle as his face swelled up purple. When he finally managed to grip it, he lifted it and aimed downwards, firing blindly.

Then after firing for several seconds, his magazine ran out. He tried desperately to detach the magazine and reload a new one, but his hands grew unresponsive as his vision faded. Finally, mercifully, he blacked out.

Remaining hanging there for nearly a minute before he finally dropped, Tyler landed on his feet. Still clutching his wounded arm, he cursed and began to make his way back towards the wall he'd come over originally.

That was until he heard the helicopter.

After a moment to consider, he uttered a growling shout of fury and turned away from the facility, running back towards the tree cover. Leaving his dropped rifle and pistol behind, Tyler fled into the tree cover armed with nothing more than a knife, a phone without service, and whoever was coming after him on his tail.

New Harmony, Utah

Wednesday 5th October 2016, 00:25 AM

For what may very well have been an hour, Mike sat in the darkness. Her words still stabbed his every thought with gnashing teeth. All the while knowing that he would need to eventually stand up and get on with his night.

Yet when the reminder of what his next task entailed, it didn't become any more motivating. For he was to cross into Funtime Auditorium, evading a variant of his long-dead friend.

Sighing, Mike climbed out of the gap and with one last look at the window, crawled his way back through. Once he made it back to the main control unit, he turned and faced the dungeon which laid before him. He clicked the lights, finding nothing on the limited area it showed, and took a moment.

If Ballora had been a terrifying presence in the room behind him, then he imagined Foxy to be a nightmare walking. With one last chance to back out, he got down and entered Funtime Auditorium.

In another moment, down went Alice after it, Mike mused as he descended, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

"Unlike Ballora, Funtime Foxy is motion activated." The voice finally returned to his chagrin, eliminating what little element of surprise he held, "For this reason, it is important to keep the room dark, as to not accidentally activate her."

Grumbling, Mike moved a little bit forward before coming to a halt. This is stupid, he gritted his teeth, I can't see a damn thing…

As if it sensed his distressed thought, the voice provided its offer, "You have been provided with a flash beacon. Use it if you need to get your bearings, and to ensure you don't bump into anything."

Mike blinked. Flash beacon? I wasn't told about a flash beacon! Then he felt the hand unit vibrate. Cautiously, he took it out, and saw that the screen was lit up just enough to show a new option. Hesitant, he clicked it, and it provided a nearly blinding light that lit up the room for just a moment.

Okay, he relaxed, that's something, at least.

"However, use it as sparingly as possible." The voice finished, needing to rain on his parade one last time, "Proceed forward to reach the Parts & Service room."

So knowing he had nobody else to blame for his predicament, Mike pushed forward. Every few yards he would crawl, Mike pressed the beacon again. Nothing. He crawled a little more and when he was sure he was confident, he lit it up. Still nothing.

Then he did it again and saw Foxy standing perhaps a stone's throw distance away, twitching, in the second the beacon lasted.

Feeling nauseous, Mike gave himself a few moments before he continued. He did so again and again and somehow, this crawl lasted even longer than the one he undertook the night before. All the while, he could swear that Foxy was getting closer each time the animatronic appeared.

When he flashed the beacon for what might've been the fiftieth time that night, he froze on the spot as he made eye contact with Foxy, who was five steps away from him. Mike remained rooted in the darkness for nearly a minute before he could trust himself to move a single muscle.

Then, by some unknown miracle, he hit the back wall. Sucking in a breath, he lit the beacon one last time and laid eyes on the door. Refusing to rush this next move even as his body screamed in vain to do exactly that, he reached for it.

Cracking it open, he slipped into the room and quietly shut the door. Then he sat down and allowed himself a deep breath.

Reaching for his flashlight, Mike fumbled with it before lighting it into the centre of the room. Then he had to stifle a gasping yell when the face of Funtime Freddy, mere feet away from him, was the only thing he could see.

He froze on the spot, then forced himself to relax upon accepting that the animatronic was not online. Even still, the memory of the night before sent a shiver of doubt through his blood.

That shiver became a tremor as the voice spoke out no quieter than before, "Great job reaching Parts & Service. It seems that Funtime Freddy is out of power, which should make your job much easier."

So it's not even a certainty, Mike bitterly cursed internally. He eyed the bear up and down for some time before he allowed himself to believe the voice. On the bear's right hand was the blue Bonnie hand puppet, smiling nearly sadistically in his direction. Nevertheless, a wave of caution brought each one of his movements to a slow crawl. A low thump in his head was beginning to make him nauseous.

"The release switch for the chest cavity is located on the underside of the endoskeleton jaw." The voice relayed its instructions, oblivious to how tense of a situation this was, "To reach it, we will first need to open the face plates."

That turned the tremor into an absolute quake. Suddenly feeling how cold it was in the room, Mike had to stop himself from warming his arms. Instead, he kept the flashlight on the bear and expected any slight movement from it.

"You will need to press the face plate release triggers in a specific order, and it's important to be as precise and as careful as possible."

Okay, Mike breathed in, instructions. Clear process. That's all I need. Just a clear set of what to do in what order. And what the Hell is within this damn thumping?

"Locate the small button on Freddy's face, just under his right cheek," The voice gave its first step, "and press it."

Nodding slowly, Mike reached for the button under the bear's cheek, then froze. Wait, he said right. Did he mean…? He shook his head, quickly catching on to his rising anxiety overriding any clear and conscious thoughts. No, he said his right, not my right. Okay.

Reaching for his left, Mike clicked the button under the bear's right cheek. Half expecting the bear to lunge and snap him up, instead he clicked it and was met by nothing. Gritting his teeth as his headache began to grow the making of a migraine, he shook it.

"Great!" The voice said, "Now locate the button under his left cheek and press it."

Calming himself, Mike reached for the opposite button and clicked it. This time, he was more assertive, knowing he was correct.

"Great! Now carefully locate and press the button next to Freddy's right eye."

Right again, Mike nodded, perhaps proud of his ability not to mix up his rights and lefts in a stressful situation. The thought might've made him chuckle, were he not standing in front of a homicidal bear. Seeing the button on the face plate in between the bear's eyes, he clicked it.

"Great! Now carefully locate and press the button next just above Freddy's nose."

Sucking in a breath, Mike looked at the bear's nose. Within a moment, he spotted the button and instinctively reached for it, pressing it-

Then jolted back in horror as the bear jerked, the faceplates opening so suddenly and viciously. Keeping his distance, Mike waited to see any sign of life in the bear.

"Good job." The voice broke the silence, "The face plates should now be open. Locate and press the small button on the underside of Freddy's endoskeleton jaw."

Straining his eyes, Mike spotted the button around that area and pressed it. Though he wasn't as spooked as before when the chest snapped open, it still made him tremble.

"Excellent. The chest cavity should now be open. Remove the power module from the chest cavity."

Holding his nose in anguish, Mike closed his eyes and gave himself a moment. He looked at the disk on the centre of the bear, which was emitting a flashing, glowing red light. Reaching for it, he tried to ignore the terrifying gaze of the bear's eyes without its face before plucking the disk off.

As he did so, the light stopped flashing. Breathing in, he shook his head. Were he not so distressed, he might've realised that his headache had lessened slightly.

"Great work. You will now be required to remove the secondary power module from the Bonnie hand puppet."

Okay, he relaxed and moved his flashlight towards the rabbit. It took his mind a moment to catch up on what he was seeing.

"Press the large, black button beneath Bonnie's bow tie to release the power module."

Instead of the rabbit, all that stood there before him was the stump that was Freddy's right hand.

Somehow, he was able to keep himself calm. Keeping his flashlight on the bear and back against the wall as much as he could, he waited. Waited for any sign of movement.

That movement came when he saw the shape behind the bear's left arm.

He reacted, jabbing as accurate of a clawed hand as he could. On another day, he might've missed, but fortune favoured him. His hand hit the button and the hand puppet froze, no longer showing any sign of life.

I didn't come all this way, Mike glared at the Bonnie puppet, just to be taken down by some novelty toy.

The voice returned again, satisfied with his work. "Great work. You've acquired both power modules. This completes your tasks for the night."

Mike's body sagged as he heard the rest of the voice's words. "Please exit the building through Funtime Auditorium, and we'll see you back here again tomorrow."

Okay, he nearly moaned, just like last time.

Turning to face the door, something kept him glued there. A sense of dread. Grunting, he shook it off and cracked it open, then slid in. Falling to the ground, he began to make his way back through. Almost home, he told himself, knowing he'd come out of worse than this before.

Not this time.

After crawling a few yards in the room, he held the hand unit and flashed the beacon.

It revealed Foxy, standing there nearly in front of him. The animatronic unleashed a hellish screech and lunged.

Mike yelled out as it lunged, unable to fully dodge it. Hitting the ground, Mike reached for his gun and fired, but couldn't meet any target in the dark. Then the animatronic hit him from the side, sending him crashing down.

Then the animatronic struck one more time and Mike's head struck the ground hard, darkness overcoming him.

Mike was in his office, with the old televisions and his monitor showing the cameras. Frowning, he turned at the sound of movement. His eyes fell onto the shape of metal and plastic fur that stood up and looked at him.

"Ye be the scallywag that shot Capn' Foxy?" The metal shape asked him accusingly.

"I…I think so." Mike answered, confused, "Wait, where are we?"

A spark in Foxy's eye glimmered at that. "Ye got guts, lad. Now, have ya seen that endo? Me an' the crew 'ave some words for it…"

"But there isn't an endo." Mike mumbled, "Foxy? Foxy, where'd you go?"

"Mr. Schmidt?"

Looking around for where the fox had gone, Mike barely registered that.

"Mr. Schmidt?"

He turned and saw the faces of six people sitting on thrones, staring down at him.

"Sorry?" Mike asked.

"Mr. Schmidt," one of the men, who nearly glared down in disgust, "who are you?"

In a brief moment, Mike recalled who he was. Gritting his teeth, Mike spat out, "Someone who remembers."

"And what is your purpose?" Donovan asked him, maybe oblivious to his anger.

"To avenge. You killed my friend, you son of a bitch."

But then the face of Donovan changed to that of a man in pain. Blood leaked from his mouth and he made eye contact with Mike.

And the man nodded.

"No." Mike growled as he looked at the metal beast that stood in between them. "Not this time."

But then Samantha's voice came from behind him. "No. No."

"I'm not leaving you behind this time." Mike pressed in vain.

"No, no, no, Tom, please, no! Tom!"

As Samantha's screams grew louder, Thomas Caine raised his gun and shot the animatronic. It turned to face him.

"No!" Mike screamed in response, "Not this time!"

He ran at the metallic monster and raised his gun to fire. Before he could, however, the yellow giant cracked its hand at him, sending him to the floor. When he looked up, gone was the Rabbit and in its place was Fredbear. The nightmarish being's red eyes burnt through him.

Fighting back his fear, Mike climbed back up. "I'm not scared of you anymore."

But then the bear was no longer warped. It stood on stage, a microphone in hand, midway into performing a song.

A song interrupted when the child's head was forced into its mouth.

"No." Mike breathed and instinctively darted for the stage. But before he could reach it, the child screamed and the bear's mouth clamped down.

"No!" Another scream to his left sent Mike running. Again, the bear stood, a child in its mouth. Mike desperately ran towards it, but it was too late.

Again and again.

"You did this."

Hearing that voice, Mike froze. An ancient fear killed his blood and bones as he turned. Somehow, even near the same height, the worst nightmare he had still stood taller than him.

Clutching a bottle, he stepped closer. He'd been drinking. "You did this. You killed your brother."

"I…" Mike tried to get it out, but couldn't. "I didn't…"

A backhand from the nightmare hit him like a tonne of bricks. As Mike hit the ground, the Foxy mask came with it. He stared down at the mask, numb.

"You little bastard!" The nightmare screamed before it kicked him in the side. Feeling all the air get driven out of him, Mike couldn't find the will to fight back.

"I know I did." He gagged out, tears falling from his eyes, "I'm sorry."

When he could finally muster up the strength to open his eyes, he stepped back at the sight of a lake. Dusty sand beneath his feet. Looking down, he saw the solid ground he was standing on.

"You've got a motorcycle."

Hearing that voice, Mike's tears returned. Wiping them, he composed himself and turned. Seeing him standing there, hands in his overcoat's pockets, Mike felt that hole inside of him twisting.

"I did." Mike tried to smile, "I'll end up trashing it in about five months, but…you know."

"At least you won't have to carpool until then." Thomas Caine shrugged.

"Right. Uh…wait. What?"

"Have a seat."

Leaning against his car, Thomas waited for Mike to join him. Hesitant, Mike walked around until he was there. Sitting down, he stared at the detective, confused.

"So," Caine asked him, "what's been going on, Mike?"

"Can't remember." Mike answered, unable to take his eyes off of him.

"I'm sure you can."

"Nothing you'd know about. This Circus Baby place, underground…"

"And I'm guessing if you're here, it's not gone too well?"

"Wait." Mike said, stunned, "You're saying…am I dead?"

"Not quite yet, no. You've got to take better care of yourself, though."

"Then this is a dream?" Mike was surprised to find himself slumping. "None of this is real?"

"Of course it's not real, Mike. Otherwise, I'd be a pretty strange sight." Grinning, he looked at Mike. "Whether it's a dream…well, that's something you'll have to decide for yourself."

"Okay." Mike nodded, yet no more sure.

"How's my family doing?"

"Better. Than they were doing before, at least."

"Good."

Breathing in, Mike made eye contact with him. "Tom…I'm sorry."

He raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"You're dead because of me. That whole operation…I should've never dragged you into it."

"Occupational hazard, mate. Not a day went by that I wasn't risking death."

Mike sighed, "I have to ask…did you know? About me? My past?"

"Hard to say." Caine shrugged, "I'm sure you've seen my notes."

"I did, but…"

"The past is the past, Mike. No point dwelling on it. You need to focus on what's in front of you."

"I doubt there's anything left." Mike smiled sadly, "My luck ran out."

"Did it?" Caine raised an eyebrow, "Or are you just waiting for your second wind? Something tells me that your job isn't done yet, Mike."

Then he faded away and Mike was left in darkness. Feeling strained, he opened his eyes.

In front of him was metal, a plate that surrounded his entire vision. All except for two giant circles on either side of his face.

Before he could begin to comprehend the horror of his situation, her voice came from the darkness.

"Shh! Be still and quiet." She nearly whispered. He couldn't tell where it was coming from. "You've been sleeping for quite a while. I think they noticed that you never left the building last night."

Knowing what he was in, Mike's heart lurched in his chest. He could barely breathe. Barely move.

"The cameras are searching for you. But they couldn't find you. I have you hidden too well."

The coldness of the springlock suit only filled his heart with more dread. All the while, with only her as company.

"I kidnapped you."

Chapter ended up a bit longer than I was planning. Next chapter will be shorter to accompany it. I also need to warn you all that as of this chapter, my schedule will be a little more haphazard. I'll be starting my new full time job starting next week, so time will be a constrained. All goes well, I'll still be able to get a chapter out a week.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: I definitely wanted to use it to flesh things out a little more, for the sake of backstory over plot. With Afton, I wanted to lean more into him being a sort of chaotic creative who happened to give in to his darkness rather than fighting against it. He's despicable, of course, but he's gotten away with it for a reason. When I introduced Tyler and Spencer in the last story, I knew I had to put a bigger focus on them. Tyler I feel has gone well so far, especially when you've seen more sides to him in this chapter. Spencer still needs the time of day before I can feel happy about his part in it. It's good to know the plotline regarding Sister Location is going well; it was honestly my third biggest worry about this story. The first and second...well, you'll see. Also, you're right about the space and Circus Baby talking to Mike. That's my bad, got mixed up in one of the details.

So, hopefully I'll be seeing you all Saturday next week. If not, I'll get the next one out as soon as I'm able.