Hey all, chapter 52 at last and it is another long one!
A huge thank you to both Fer09 and August Frost12 for their reviews, you're quite right Fer09, neither Springtrap or the children will leave either unharmed or without more questions than answers and you haven't seen all of the Nightmares yet!
Don't worry August you'll get your answers soon enough and you're right, Tommy is perhaps the most tragic victim in this story.
Also thank you to d8rkforcen1ght7 for following this story, there is much more content left in store. :-)
There's no song for this chapter, but the content alone should entertain you greatly, it's very important.
Apologies for any grammar mistakes that I've missed and do enjoy. . .
Chapter 52
Stepping Out Into The Light Of Day.
"He who commits injustice is ever made more wretched than he who suffers it."
Plato.
The van turned a corner, before coming to a complete stop alongside the pavement on a street of suburban houses.
Yet this was the right place to be, this was where the fun would begin.
The endoskeleton in the driver's seat firmly applied the brake, locking the van's gears into place. It wore a grey cloak and a cowl that covered its entire body, especially its face. Its inbuilt special disk had been enough to disrupt any attempt by the police to investigate the van and to fool them enough that it was human.
Besides if things got tense, there were 'other' ways to convince them permanently.
It looked up from the steering wheel, its grey eyes now staring forward. The target was only one house down from where they were.
"We have arrived master Vincent," it said plainly, but there immediately came the sounds of someone moving in the back.
"Excellent," Vincent muttered nonchalantly through the inside window.
He then turned about on the spot and examined the small number of endoskeletons that he had brought with him. Carefully he avoided stepping on the slumbering Nightmares that were laid across the van's floor as he moved around. Despite having a small number of endoskeletons present, Vincent knew full well that what they lacked in numbers would be made up for with regards to their newfound capabilities.
"The others should be making their way towards us now. . .through the sewers," he remarked plainly, gently stepping over the sleeping Nightmares so he could be in the centre of the van's floor space.
There lay his creation, the helmet that he had been working on for a while ever since the Nightmares had 'met' with Balloon Boy.
He knew what he needed to do next and he hoped that all of his hard work would pay off, but he was equally aware that everything could potentially go south once he initiated the next stage of his plan.
No plan survives first contact with the enemy as the saying goes and Vincent just hoped that he would be able to ride the chaos that was soon to come once he put the helmet on. Although he trusted his endoskeleton enough that they wouldn't do anything foolish that undermine his intentions whilst he was busy elsewhere.
That isn't to say that he wouldn't worry about it though, but sometimes things couldn't be helped, and he would just have to react to any new development as best as he could. Upon finding an ideal spot between the slumbering bodies of Nightmares Chica and Freddy, Vincent proceeded to sit himself down on the floor.
He reached forward and picked up the helmet, being extra careful not to drop it. It was definitely one of makeshift design, the sort of thing that the fictional mad scientist Dr Frankenstein would have worn when conducting his horrific experiments and testing brain waves. Well. . .that's what the films seemed to depict.
Trailing off from the helmet were several long blue and red wires that were connected to the heads of Nightmares Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy as they continually slept undisturbed. As Vincent intended the helmet would be a nexus of sorts, allowing his mind to connect with theirs and thus travel into the same dream that they were all having.
Granted that they weren't holding hands with eachother, but being Nightmares, they could compensate for this lack of physical connection by merely shaping the same dream that they all had in mind and then calling the others in. Once all four of them were united in the same dream then they would shape it to their exact liking. For non-Nightmare beings though, it was either through physical connection or in Vincent's case linking his mind with theirs.
He hoped that this form of connection would be more stable.
However, if the connection ended up being weak somehow, then this endeavour would have been a complete waste of time. Although he could simply put his hands on either the heads of Nightmares Freddy and Chica and access their dreams through that form of physical connection, so he had a viable backup at least.
Yet everything was riding on this moment, and Vincent knew it, for the importance of this encounter could not be underestimated.
What he intended to do today would send shock waves through the Fazbear Family. He would be effectively throwing away a vital chess piece that he had so often used to torment them. . .but no more.
Today. . .he would bring everyone two steps closer to the end, whether they knew it or not.
It wouldn't quite be the ending stages of the game, but it would be worth it, particularly with what he aimed to deliver onto Freddy and the others.
Vincent smiled to himself as he stared longingly at the helmet, he genuinely felt like he was standing on the edge of a waterfall and wondering whether to jump in and let the momentum of the rapids carry him over to wherever it would lead.
What happened from now on would largely be dictated by chaos, even though Vincent had his own goals in mind. Yet he was sure that the chaos would be more benefiting for him than it would be for the likes of Freddy and co.
"Never though that one day I would be connecting my mind to demonic nightmarish versions of people whom I hate with a passion. All so I can enter the dreamworld and proceed to hammer in another nail into their collective coffin," he muttered softly, feeling the irony and the strange paths that his life had taken to arrive at this particular moment.
He then paused, feeling the weight of everything surround him and his smile dropped.
"As well as my own," he whispered bitterly.
"Things weren't meant to ever be this way, but it is what it is and all I can do is ride the storm as best as I can."
He could say with absolutely clarity that he had both loved and hated his life, the soul crushing pain of his past trauma that had refused to heal. The enjoyment of seeing the fear in the eyes of the children before he plunged his knife into them. Feeling a sick sense of satisfaction as he overheard the wails and screams of the families whom he had made childless, along with a strong sense of justice. Then finally, there was the depressing, mental agony of his reality, of how empty his life had become and realisation that there was nothing he could do to change it.
All he could do was wander down this wretched path to its end conclusion.
"In the end, I will get some relief for what my actions will achieve," he remarked warmly, feeling a small upsurge in his spirits.
"I am not a complete monster, despite having enterally stained my soul."
Then his eyes narrowed, and he became serious in his expression.
"However, enough reflecting, it's time for the show to truly begin."
He lifted the helmet up and placed it firmly onto his head, turning to the endoskeletons as he did, making his orders clear through his strict tone.
"Wait for my instructions, none of you or the endoskeletons in the sewer are to move until then."
"Although if anyone is curious enough to stumble upon us, you know what to do," he said, drawing a line across his throat to make his meaning very clear so that it could not be mistaken.
The endoskeletons nodded firmly.
"Of course, master Afton," one of them responded in its nonchalant tone that they nearly always spoke in.
Vincent smiled a little, pleased that they clearly understood his instructions.
He then proceeded to lay down on the van's floor, reaching around the back of his head to flicker a switch on that would power it.
No sooner had he done so; the lure of sleep immediately arose like a mountain stretching above the clouds. His eyes felt incredibly heavy and he gave in almost immediately.
"It's showtime," he whispered, as he fell deep into the enticing realm of slumber.
Only he knew that this wouldn't be any ordinary dream, but it would be one that changed everything. . .
At first there was darkness, with muffled sounds that echoed about in the dark and Vincent couldn't deduce their origins or their owners.
Yet steadily a white light began to appear before him, getting bigger and brighter as it fully emerged from the surrounding darkness.
It acted in the same way that a comet did when it was racing towards the earth, getting brighter and brighter as it burned in the atmosphere upon approach.
Vincent could float, but he felt stationary, locked in and unable to move, as the bright aura of light raced towards him with lighting speed.
The voices meanwhile became much clearer, he could now identify some of them.
"Why are you doing this?!"
That voice was undeniably Foxy's and he sounded panicked, if not very concerned about something.
"What do you want out of this?!"
Vincent smiled a little, by the literally sounds of it, things weren't going so well for Foxy and the others. Hopefully, the Nightmares weren't creating too much chaos though, even with the former night guards at their side in their mechanical coffins.
Vincent had to admit that he was both curious and a little disturbed by what he would actually see when he eventually encountered the nightguards face to face. The last thing he saw of some them was their metallic blood stained coffin being dragged out the pizzeria backdoor the morning after their death and that was decades ago. Back when he was watching such horrific events through the pizzeria cameras that he had been able to hack into.
God alone knows what their mental state would be like having spent decades in Limbo and it made Vincent shudder, ever so slightly. Still, nothing like a nice reunion and given what he intended to do; they might as well be there to witness the moment the curtains were fully pulled back.
He just hoped that the Nightmares hadn't provoked things too soon and were able to keep the night guards in line.
After all, they knew very well what their roles were in this situation, to keep the Fazbears occupied until he arrived.
Then a new voice came through.
"Entertainment Foxy, and to drive home a point that the tables have fully been turned, it's time for you to face the past."
This voice was youthful, male, mischievous with a knowing tone, but Vincent didn't recognise it and his smile dropped to be replaced by a look of confusion. Yet he remembered something about the Nightmares being able to possess their own creations within the dreamworld and interact through them.
The unknown voice spoke again, only now it was cold and stern and they were most likely speaking to Foxy.
"There will be answers very soon, but nothing is ever so simple when everything finally falls into place, trust me."
"Shhhh."
"The show will begin momentarily, for not all of the guests have arrived. . .yet."
Vincent smiled again, the Nightmares were aware of his approach. Meanwhile the white light continually grew larger and brighter that it threatened to swallow him whole.
He also hoped that the other Fazbears would arrive as well, the more the merrier.
Then a new voice appeared, singing in song.
"How unfortunate, uh oh, how unfortunate, uh oh!"
It sounded very much like a child and for a second Vincent thought that Balloon Boy was singing, but he immediately recognised that the voice was far too girly to be BB.
It must be one of the scrapped animatronics that Henry Emily had designed for Fazbear Entertainment back in the day.
Then the light enveloped him whole and all Vincent could see was bright white as the voice continued to sing in a mischievous tone to its end conclusion.
"I'm gonna do a sneaky thing and throw a new contender in the ring."
BANG!
Vincent felt himself stumble forward slightly the moment his feet hit a solid surface, which as the light rapidly faded turned out to be a smooth grey tile floor.
He looked up, straightening himself as he did and gazed around.
He immediately recognised everything, the stage, the flashing neon lights, pirate's cove, the parts and services door that seemed to have been bashed right open. Then there was prize corner, with the toy shelves and Puppet's music box.
There were a few other features to the pizzeria that he didn't recognise, although he quickly deduced that this was a mishmash version of both pizzerias. However, all that mattered was that he was here at last.
He certainly had a lot of company present and by the looks of it, things hadn't escalated into an all-out fight. . .yet.
Vincent found himself standing alongside Lefty, whom he immediately recognised from the blueprints. Yet to see Henry's long sought project brought to life in vivid detail certainly took his breath away.
"Glad that you are able to join us mister Afton," Lefty said a relaxed tone, but he looked amused by Vincent's surpised expression.
For a moment, Vincent allowed himself to reminisce, remembering Henry's visible excitement and pride in Lefty's design.
He could recall Henry's words clearly, as though he had only spoken them yesterday.
"This is my pride and joy."
"Lefty, I aim to have him made before Sammy's birthday next year, he is rather complex, so I need time to make him perfect for the limelight."
And perfect he was, standing there in the flesh, even though Vincent knew that none of this was actually real.
He pulled himself out of memory lane and turned to see the entire ensemble of animatronics that the Nightmares had skilfully recreated.
The Rockstars, the Mediocre Melodies, Candy, Cindy, Blank, Chester, Music Man, El Chip, Cadet Candy, Funtime Chica, Dee Dee and many more.
To see them up close and in such detail was captivating.
"You really did have a creative mind Henry," Vincent thought observantly, as he gazed over everything animatronic in the room.
"It's a pity that none of your work got to see the light of day."
"Yet I am well aware of the irony, with me being the one responsible for all of your pain."
"But I promised that I would look after what was left behind, even if it is just your blueprints that remain."
Then of course there were the night guards in their prop suit coffins and Vincent's eyes did widen upon seeing them in the flesh.
Vincent had expected them to look worse for wear and he wasn't disappointed given their degraded and rusted appearance. The blood stains were still visible on the surface of their new bodies even after all this time. The way that their aged face plates twitched and jerked made him feel uneasy, knowing the maelstrom of negative emotion that lay behind the withered mask
Agony could be an immensely powerful emotion and it could drive people to commit the most insane and destructive of actions if it could just for a second relive their ceaseless burden.
Or it would just turn them into mindless beasts, consumed by a ravenous hunger to inflict pain on everyone and everything, blind forever to reality and lost in the darkness of their own ceaseless pain.
Vincent knew from first hand experience that it was a fine line to balance on, with the ever present risk of falling off.
Now turning to face his front, he could see Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy all facing him with a collective expression of surprise, shock, recognition, dread and even fear to some degree.
They certainly hadn't been expecting him to appear, evident by their eyes suddenly narrowing in open contempt, if not disgust.
Anger soon became the defining emotion of their expressions as they glared daggers at him.
They all seemed to quickly recognise that he was not an illusion of the Nightmares' making, but the real deal.
"It's you," Freddy growled in a low tone that barely hid his hatred for the man that now stood before him
Vincent smiled confidently.
"Yes, it's me."
"You weren't expecting me to turn up, were you?" he asked in a knowing tone, as he walked forward slightly.
Although he made sure not to get too close in case, they did try to lash out at him.
"No, we weren't," Foxy replied bitterly, his eyes were aflame with anger and they briefly flickered over to Lefty, who held a delighted expression on his face.
"Yet, we shouldn't be too surprised that this has happened," he muttered.
"V. . .i. . .n. . .c. . .e. . .n. . .t A. . .f. . .t. . .o. . .n?" (Vincent Afton?) came a strained female voice, which resulted in everyone turning to see one of the possessed prop suits twirling towards him in graceful manner.
Immediately the slight of the suit's ballerina movements made Vincent's eyes wide momentarily and he felt his mind undergo a brief flashback before he wretched it back into the present.
But still the memory felt strong in his mind.
"I. . .t's a s. . .t. . .r. . .a. . .n. . .g. . .e t. . .h. . .i. . .n. . .g f. . .o. . .r y. . .o. . .u t. . .o b. . .e a. . .l. . .i. . .v. . .e, d. . .e. . .s. . .p. . .i. . .t. . .e h. . .a. . .v. . .i. . .n. . .g c. . .a. . .u. . .s. . .e. . .d e. . .v. . .e. . .r. . .y. . .t. . .h. . .i. . .n. . .g, w. . .h. . .y h. . .a. . .s. . .n't k. . .a. . .r. . .m. . .a s. . .t. . .r. . .u. . .c. . .k y. . .o. . .u d. . .o. . .w. . .n?" (It's a strange thing for you to be alive, despite having caused everything, why hasn't karma struck you down?) the nightguard asked in a curious tone, although there was a strong undertone of resentment.
It was in this moment that Vincent could recall the identity of the woman entombed within her mechanical grave. . .Amy Crawfield.
"Because unlike you, I learnt how to survive the unnatural and keep myself hidden," Vincent replied modestly, although there was a stern undertone to his voice, to make her think twice about attacking him.
Amy seemed to loom over him, even though she was perhaps only taller than Vincent by a few inches. Although the ghastly appearance of the prop suit that she possessed made her seem tall and imposing. A feature that was further amplified by the constant anger and hatred that raged on inside of her.
The nearby presence of Lefty, or rather the Nightmare within him gave Vincent some form of comfort with regards to security in case things were to take a rather bad turn.
"Plus, I was well aware of what would happen to me if I did return to Freddy's," Vincent remarked plainly.
"It's a pity that you didn't," Bonnie muttered coldly under her breath, but Vincent was too busy focused on dealing with Amy to hear her words.
"We could have ended this nightmare right there and then."
"W. . .h. . .y d. . .i. . .d y. . .o. . .u d. . .o i. . .t?" (Why did you do it?) Amy asked, tilting her head to one side as she examined Vincent. Her voice was strained because of her battered voice box, but her tone was clearly one of both curiosity and sorrow if it were possible.
"Yes, that is a question that we would all like an answer to," Freddy remarked sternly, his eyes fixed solely on Vincent and nothing else. Not even the close proximity of the possessed prop suits could gain his attention.
He wanted answers and he wasn't leaving until he got them.
Taking a step forward, Freddy felt his hands morph into fists of furry as he glared daggers at Vincent.
"Can't you at least give us the satisfaction of knowing why you kill those defenceless kids, created endless torment and agony for us and everyone else who was ever involved with Freddy's?" he asked, still in a cold tone, but there was a clear undertone of anger in his voice.
Vincent turned in his direction immediately picking up the serious tone in Freddy's voice, as did Amy and everyone else around them.
"Why create so much chaos and why drag so many unfortunate people into it?" Freddy demanded.
He briefly paused as he gestured over to the Possessed Prop Suits, their fate was very much on open display.
"And even with twenty years having passed since the company went under and with us being left with nothing, you still hound us!" Freddy exclaimed, now starting to sound bewildered.
"It's like you have nothing better to do with your life than to constantly harass us and cause us pain."
His fist further tightened, threatening to turn white so strong was his grip and his emotions as he glared at Vincent with a look that could kill if it were possible.
Briefly looking over to Foxy, Bonnie and Chica, their expressions strongly matched Freddy's own. Although Bonnie looked more cold than angry with her inner furry hiding behind her eyes. Whilst Chica seemed to be a storm of emotions with narrowed eyes that could penetrate even the most hardened of souls. Foxy meanwhile had raised his hook hand in anticipation of a fight and he seemed to be eager for one. Yet in his eyes you could see the rage bubbling like a raging cauldron. Everyone's fear of what lay ahead of them had seemingly vanished into nothing. The mere sight of twenty five possessed prop suits and the thirty something animatronics that stood before them didn't scare them in the slightest anymore. Not even the Nightmares bothered them that much, despite them having near absolute power in the dreamworld.
Well. . .with their new found lucid dream powers that advantage should be ripped away from the Nightmares in a heartbeat.
Yet all that mattered in the Fazbears' eyes was Vincent Afton and the answers that he held. If the ghost children were possessing them right now there was no doubt that they would just proceed to tear through everyone left right and centre in order to lay their hands on the man behind the slaughter.
The one responsible for everything, be it directly or indirectly, his actions were like a ripple that never ceased to stop, spreading far and wide.
"Why, what is your reason for wanting to hurt us without end?" Freddy asked again in a cold but demanding tone, his anger was evident, but he had enough control over himself to rein it in until an opportunity presented itself.
"Why Vincent, why can't you just leave us alone?"
Vincent had been looking at Freddy with a blank expression, although his eyes showed a sense of being intrigued by his questions.
"Those questions have haunted you, haven't they?" he asked slowly, his eyes shifting from one Fazbear to the next.
Foxy growled, barely able to check himself in check and he was probably felt insulted by Vincent's words, the answer to his question was obvious to everyone here.
"I think we all know the answer to that question," Lefty commented nonchalantly, stepping forward to put himself firmly between Vincent and Amy so to discourage her from trying anything against Vincent.
"E. . .v. . .e. . .r. . .y. . .o. . .n. . .e i. . .s h. . .a. . .u. . .n. . .t. . .e. . .d," (Everyone is haunted,) Amy remarked softly, turning away as she gazed back at her nearby brethren.
"I. . .n o. . .n. . .e w. . .a. . .y o. . .r t. . h. . .e o. . .t. . .h. . .e. . .r." (In one way or the other.)
"On that I agree with you," Vincent replied plainly, earning a look of disgust from Bonnie with her cold demeanour immediately falling away to be replaced by naked rage.
"How could you possibly relate; you've never suffered like we have!" she hissed venously.
Vincent smiled slightly, yet his eyes still expressed an intrigued look, but there was an element of understanding in them, as well as a look of annoyance, but it was well hidden.
"Actually, I can relate, even I have no right to expect your pity, given the hell that I've put you all through," he remarked in an understanding tone, which felt off to the Fazbears.
"Wait, what?" Chica muttered, sounding confused, her eyes going slightly wide as she eyed Vincent with suspicion.
"How you could relate to us, you're the one who is responsible for everything and you never looked on what you did with any regret!" Foxy yelled furiously, brandishing his hook with an aggressive stance.
There were several mechanical mummers of confusion from the possessed prop suits as they raised their rusted eyebrows in a visible expression of bewilderment.
The Nightmares and their animatronic puppets didn't respond at all, instead the ones that the Nightmares were directly possessing smiled. . .a knowing smile. They clearly knew something in relation to what Vincent had just said.
Vincent sighed, but he didn't change his expression.
"Surprisingly enough I can relate, and the irony isn't lost on me, considering how I have caused everything, be it directly or indirectly," he said in an intrigued tone.
"Yet I reasoned long ago that getting lost in regret would simply leave me in a never spiral of self destruction."
He then cast all four Fazbears a meaningful look.
"Why regret what you can't change?"
"We can't divert from our path, we're all in too deep now to escape what has to happen."
Freddy could feel his words cut deep and considering what they had done to the former nightguards and how there was no possibility in reversing what had happened, he had considered abandoning all hope and just allowing the vengeful child spirit inside of him to dictate his life.
They all had in various ways thought about letting go of their humanity back in those dark days of the 1990s, when there was no way out of the mire that they were dumped in.
They couldn't swim against the ceaseless rising tide, so they might as well submit and sink into their inner darkness.
Yet it sounded as though Vincent had indeed at some point held regret for what he had done, despite such a realisation going completely against what Freddy knew about him.
However, something that Nightmare Freddy had told Balloon Boy earlier came back to Freddy.
"I am a monster, it is infused into me and I cannot help it, but even a monster can learn to feel things that go against its inner nature. . .even a monster like Vincent Afton."
Had Vincent learnt to feel regret, or even remorse for his actions?
If so, it didn't make any sense for why he was continuing to hound Freddy and his family to no apparent end other than their ultimate destruction.
It was clear that any feeling of regret that Vincent may or may not hold weren't dictating his actions. Something else was fuelling his actions and whilst Freddy believed that it was the man's stoic determination to ruin him and his family. He suspected that motivation was being driven by something far beyond the mere thrill and desire for carnage and blood.
"What are you talking about?" Chica asked venomously, her eyes still ablaze with anger and confusion.
"What do you mean don't regret what you can't change, you've never cared from the beginning, you loved it, every single moment."
She then pointed at him accusingly.
"You don't have the ability to feel anything but the sick sense of satisfaction that you get from your murderous acts!"
Her hatred for him was beyond evident, it was a feeling shared by everyone else around her.
"You befriended us, helped us, all the while you were plotting our downfall, you never stopped to reflect on whether what you were doing was worth it, you just dived straight in!"
"You're the sort of person who wouldn't stop until you end up dead, you are completely soulless Vincent!"
Alongside her hatred for him was the overwhelming disbelief that he could ever relate to her and the others. Given how he had treated them, she would be beyond surprised that he actually wanted to relate them, he certainly didn't hold any of them in high regard.
"If you truly regretted what you did and understood what you've put us all through then you would have stopped years ago and left us well alone!"
Vincent smiled in response, yet it was a cold smile and his eyes narrowed as he gazed back at her. Although there was something else in his eyes that Chica couldn't quite decipher. . .recognition perhaps, but of what she couldn't tell.
"If only you truly knew me Chica," he replied slowly in a sombre tone.
"We have all suffered and I can't stop hunting you because I don't want to stop, and I can't reverse what I have done."
"It's all I have now."
There seemed to be a deeper meaning to his words.
"Please Vincent," Bonne began with a harsh tone, shaking her head in dismissal.
"Don't try to beg for our pity."
"I have no intention of doing so Bonnie," Vincent replied with a casual tone, but that odd look in his eyes remained, but it wasn't the look of a crazed serial killer which had often been assigned to him over the years.
"I know when something is pointless in trying."
Was that mysterious look. . .humanity, a form of acceptance of how utterly diabolic he had been to them?
If so, then this was certainly the first time that Vincent appeared to be humble, which was strange given that he had always verbally tormented them with a steadfast refusal to give away any weakness.
"Y. . .o. . .u a. . .r. . .e a v. . .i. . .c. . .t. . .i. . .m o. . .f m. . .i. . .s. . .f. . .o. . .r. . .t. . .u. . .n. . .a. . .t. . .e, V. . .i. . .n. . .c. . .e. . .n. . .t?" (You are a victim of misfortunate, Vincent?) David asked, his degraded metallic body leaning forward to hear more. He sounded curious, but there also an undertone of displeasure. He probably disliked the idea that Vincent could ever claimed to be a victim of misfortunate, when considering his role in creating and prolonging this mess.
As he had told Freddy earlier, he hated Vincent for what he had done, even though he and the other former nightguards saw the Fazbears as their primary enemy.
"Yes," Vincent replied slowly, turning his gaze in the possessed prop suit's direction, he seemed to agree with David's words.
"In many ways I am, even though I have no right to anyone's sympathy."
There was some muttering amongst the possessed prop suits with their damaged voice boxes struggling to form their words, but enough was heard by the Fazbears that it earned their attention beyond anything else.
"S. . .o, t. . .h. . .e r. . .u. . .m. . .o. . .u. . .r. . .s c. . .o. . .u. . .l. . .d b. . .e t. . .r. . .u. . .e." (So, the rumours could be true?) one muttered.
"W. . .h. . .a. . .t e. . .l. . .s. . .e w. . .o. . .u. . .l. . .d h. . .e b. . .e r. . .e. . .f. . .e. . .r. . .r. . .i. . .n. . .g t. . .o?" (What else would he be referring to?) another remarked, seemingly in agreement.
"Wait, what rumours, what do you know?" Freddy asked and probably a bit too hasty for his own liking as it portrayed his desperation for answers. The possessed prop suits immediately caught on and responded accordingly.
"W. . .e a. . .r. . .e. . .n't t. . .e. . .l. . .l. . .i. . .n. . .g y. . .o. . .u!" (We aren't telling you!) one of them hissed venomously.
They were very vindictive, and, in all fairness, who could blame them given their gruesome fate at the Fazbears' hands.
Vincent nodded, putting his hands behind his back as he stepped forward once more.
"Some secrets are best left buried, but others finally have to come out," he said confidently.
"This part of the game has gone on for long enough."
Yet Freddy refused to believe it, there was always an ulterior motive with Vincent. He wouldn't simply tell them anything unless he wanted it to have a desired effect on them.
Still, the sudden possibility of knowing called to him and he wanted to reach out and grasp it with both hands.
He knew that Vincent had told Goldie why he did what he did back in that abandoned factory, but due to the circumstances with that dreaded machine, Goldie couldn't remember much from that time.
If only he could fully remember what had been said.
Yet amidst his frustration over the lack of proper answers, he remembered something else, which he had touched upon earlier when he was facing down Lefty.
Vincent's actions, the way in which he went about his killings, the fact he hadn't killed them yet despite having plenty of opportunities to do so and how he was constantly hounding them even now. . .long after those tragic and horrific events had occurred.
Then Freddy remembered what Vincent had told him back in 1987, when he was in his SpringBonnie disguise.
"I only want to kill as many as I need to."
Looking back at everything Vincent had done from the beginning up to now as he stood before Freddy, the latter could see that Vincent was a driven individual and a like a serial killer he had stripped everything away from the Fazbears that they cared about. . .excluding their lives.
They had nothing left, no livelihood, no home and a stained reputation that would be next to impossible to restore. It was very clear now that Vincent had wanted to hurt them, bit by bit as he destroyed their lives, with a vindictive mindset.
He had watched them, befriended them and even helped them on a few occasions. All the while he was a snake in the grass, waiting for an ideal opportunity to strike. He didn't even need to tell them that it was him who was the one responsible for all of their pain, but he did. . .knowing that the reveal of his betrayal would hurt them.
Freddy's eyes slowly widen as it began to finally dawn on him, the implication was as terrifying as it was shocking.
Everything Vincent had done was personal, because he had been hurt. . .somehow and he wanted Freddy and the others to feel his pain, because them he equally had nothing left. . .other than this vindictive feud that he pursued relentlessly.
A serial killer is what Vincent had become, but not who had once been. . .
Freddy had wanted to ask further, but before he could even open his mouth, there was a sudden bright flash of white light that enveloped everyone in a single instant.
The bright light stung everyone's eyes, even the animatronics closed their eyes in a form of self defence to prevent the brightness from overloading their eye circuits. The possessed prop suits groaned in distress at the sensation as did Vincent, as he had completely been caught off guard like everyone else.
If Freddy himself wasn't in the same position he would have used the opportunity to rush over grab Vincent and proceed to beat the answers out of him.
However, the bright white light faded away as rapidly as it had appeared, and Freddy found much to his relief that Goldie and the others had finally arrived.
They were in the clear and when the moment came to reveal their new found they would be able to trap not only the Nightmares, but Vincent too.
They were all together in one place. . .it was particularly a gift that was wrapped up with all the trimmings.
"Glad to see that you four are still alive," Goldie commented, looking very pleased, resulting in a smile from Freddy.
"Thankfully, they haven't made a move yet," Freddy replied, sounding very relieved that back up had finally arrived.
"Now the tables begin to turn," Bonnie remarked, as Toys Freddy and Chica stepped forward besides her. They were both expressing a mixture of nervousness, fear, concern given the mass of opponents that they faced and yet relief that they were among friends.
"We've had a long conversation with our 'old friends'," Bonnie muttered, pointing over to the massed grip of possessed prop suits, who seemed very excited with the new arrivals.
"T. . .O. . .Y F. . .R. . .E. . .D. . .D. . .Y!" (TOY FREDDY!) David screamed in open glee, barely unable to contain his desire to rip the Toy into two.
"T. . .O. . .Y B. . .O. . .N. . .N. . .I. . .E!" (TOY BONNIE!) Laura yelled in delight and her rusted face plates fully opened up to reveal her withered deformed skull, in doing so her actual jaw opened up fully, expressing her excitement.
"T. . .O. . .Y C. . .H. . .I. . .C. . .A!" (TOY CHICA!) Henry cried, sound very happy to see her and everyone else. To him it would seem that Christmas had come early.
"B. . .A. . .L. . .L. . .O. . .O. . .N B. . .O. . .Y, W. . .E M. . . E. . .E. . .T A. . .G. . .A. . .I. . .N!" (BALLOON BOY, WE MEET AGAIN!) Amy squealed, her voice was a strange high pitch mechanical cry for joy as her face plates opened up fully to expose the decayed skull underneath that was now locked in an expression of what one could describe as enteral happiness. At the mere sight of the possessed prop suits and of all the animatronics, BB proceeded to stand behind Puppet for safety.
He particularly didn't wish to look at Lefty and feared drawing the human looking animatronic's gaze on him. In his showtime clothes and with his human features Lefty looked relatively harmless, but BB knew it to be all a lie and he didn't wish to undergo a repeat of his last experience with Lefty.
"P. . .U. . .P. . .P. . .E. . .T T. . .O. . .O, T. . .H. . .I. . .S I. . .S T. . .O. . .O G. . .O. . .O. . .D T. . .O B. . .E T. . .R. . .U. . .E!" (PUPPET TOO, THIS IS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!) Phone Guy called out, almost in triumph, clasping his hands together as he glared at her with sinister intent.
"I. . .t's b. . .e. . .e. . .n s. . .o l. . .o. . .n. . .g s. . .i. . .n. . .c. . .e w. . .e h. . .a. . .v. . .e l. . .a. . .s. . .t f. . .e. . .l .. .t s. . .u. . .c. . .h p. . .l. . .e. . .a. . .s. . .u. . .r. . e a. . .n. . .d h. . .o. . .p. . .e. N. . .o. . .w w. . .i. . .t. . .h o. . .u. . .r s. . .a. . .l. . .v. . .a. . .t. . .i. . .o. . .n b. . .e. . .i. . .n. . .g s. . .o n. . .e. . .a. . .r," (It's been so long since we have last felt such pleasure and hope. Now with our salvation being so near,) he then whispered, as his metallic mouth stretched itself to form a foreboding smile, expressing his dark thoughts.
It seemed to him and his comrades that their prayers had finally been answered after so much suffering in both life and death.
"E. . .v. . .e. . .n i. . .f a. . .l. . .l o. . .f y. . .o. . .u a. . .r. . .e. . .n't p. . .r. . .e. . .s. . .e. . .n. . .t, i. . .t s. . .t. . .i. . .l. . .l f. . .e. . .e. . .l. . .s l. . .i. . .k. . .e a c. . .e. . .l. . .e. . .b. . .r. . .a. . .t. . .i. . .o. . .n, a f. . .i. . .n. . .e g. . .i. . .f. . .t," (Even if all of you aren't present, it still feels like a celebration, a fine gift,) he remarked ominous, noticing the absence of Mangle, but they could all go after her later.
Plus, there someone else Phone Guy knew who wasn't present as well, but who was 'dying' to meet Mangle to repay her for what happened in 1987.
His smile grew, stretching its joints, he knew that Helen would want to join the fun, despite the Nightmares choosing to keep her back in reverse for the right moment. Although in truth it was because compared to Phone Guy and the other possessed prop suits, Helen was a wild animal, consumed utterly by her despair of dying so suddenly and her desire for vengeance against Mangle. She had become the embodiment of agony and rage; it was such a pity though, from what Phone Guy knew of her back in his old life, she was a lovely person with many things going for her.
A close distance, one could easily detect the raging fire of vengeance that was threatening to burst out of Phone Guy and consume what little willpower he had for keeping it in check. Yet he was certainly more sane than Helen was, and that was definitively saying something!
If Helen were to be brought in, then she would immediately make a beeline straight for the Fazbears, particularly the Toys and especially Mangle if she were here.
Phone Guy's own bloodlust was only contained by his curiosity in what Vincent was about to reveal as he sensed an important moment was dawning.
Although it was very tempting to just reach forward and proceed to rip into the Fazbears for they stood so tantalising near like a worm on a fishing line, but he resisted. . .for now.
Foxy meanwhile felt jubilant with Goldie and the Toys having finally turned up, it gave him a much needed sense of security, given the odds that they faced.
"It's good to see you guys," Foxy remarked humorously, as Puppet quickly seemed to take notice of her new surroundings as did Balloon Boy, although he made sure to remain behind her, not wanting to drop his guard.
"We couldn't leave you four hanging," Puppet replied softly, seeming to be focused mainly on the situation at hand, but she gave Foxy a small reassuring smile.
Now with everyone else here Foxy no longer felt as though he was standing on a cliff edge with a pack of ravenous predators waiting to push him off it. Now it felt as though he had the upper hand, be it one that well-hidden, but when the time came, the tables would finally be well and truly turned.
"This is all very much a blast from the past," Toy Freddy muttered in bewilderment, as his eyes flickered from the horde of possessed prop suits to the fairly large gathering of animatronics. He recognised most of the room's layout, seeing the stage, prize corner and Puppet's music. Then there were the flashing neo lights and the large posters with their disturbing writing on damnation for the guilty.
The whole room had cuddly appeal to it, but he knew it be all a front, a facade that hid its true wicked nature. That description alone summed up Freddy's, a place for where kids and their families could enjoy themselves with fun and games, only for everything about it to be twisted and turned into the stuff of nightmares.
Toy Freddy sighed, it was a shame to see everything that he loved about his former life be twisted in such an insulting manner and it revealed how little control he and anyone else truly had when it came to shaping their legacy.
The unsolved murders, the ghost stories and the poor public image of a once proud franchise. That was the story of Freddy's and that was what people would remember the most whenever one thought about it.
His sense of shame turned into anger, raw and unbridled as his gaze now fell upon Vincent Afton, still alive and not seeming to be suffering the slightest conquences for his actions.
Knowing that fact sickened Toy Freddy, he actually felt a bit nauseous just looking at the man.
If karma was a thing, then it was sure taking a rather long time to rain down on Vincent. Toy Freddy just hoped that if it did arrive it would be devastating, and that Vincent got what he truly deserved.
"May the darkest pit of hell open up to swallow you whole. . .'old friend'," he mentally muttered to himself in a bitter tone, as he eyed Vincent from where he stood.
"But even such a fate as that would be far too merciful for a monster like you."
"It's such a pleasure to finally see most of you again," Vincent remarked, looking rather pleased with Goldie and the Toys having arrived.
His eyes slowly moved from one of them, as he spoke in a confident tone.
"It's been too long, and we have much to discuss, I do believe that I owe you all an explanation for everything, the murders and the constant hounding."
"Granted, it's been long overdue. . ."
Toy Chica couldn't help herself, allowing her jaw to drop in her astonishment.
"What?!"
Then she quickly regained control and closed her mouth, now giving off a deeply suspicious look.
"Why now, all of a sudden?" she asked coldly.
"How do we know that you're not just taking us all for a ride?"
Vincent smiled in amusement and nodded, before responding.
"You have every right to be suspicious of my motives, given how I've refused to tell you the truth for countless years."
"Like the time you turned up outside Freddy's in 1994 and told us that you were the one responsible for the murders of the children, for destroying our lives," Puppet remarked in a displeasured tone that carried an icy undertone and her white dots for eyes burned with an inner fire as she walked slowly toward him.
"I certainly remember that you refused point blank to tell us why you did it though."
Her expression of veiled vengeance was one that Vincent had seen so many times before that he had now lost count.
It didn't limit its effects though as he felt a faint chill run up his spine, he remembered the moment when he first saw her act possessed back in 1987.
"Everything you've done to us," Puppet said coldly, her eyes were fixed solely on him and he could see a storm of negative emotion building inside of her.
"Has always been done with ultimate aim to cause as much harm as possible and I have always wondered why you desired to hurt us so badly?" she asked slowly, stopping only a short distance from him, disregarding her close proximity to the possessed prop suits and the animatronics that circled the group like a horde of hungry vultures.
"Why did you have to make it so personal Vincent?" she asked slowly, but one could easily deuce her ravenous desire for answers and her urge to rip him in two where he stood.
She then gestured to all the other Fazbears.
"None of us have ever done anything to you to deserve such cruelty."
For a while, Vincent stared back at her with an unreadable expression, until he finally responded.
"You're almost right Puppet, my actions are completely unjustified, to an outsider looking in."
He sighed, and now looking reflective and a little sombre as he gazed around from one Fazbear to the next, reading their confused and enraged expressions.
"Almost none of you, be it here or anywhere else has done anything to earn my hatred of you," Vincent said solemnly.
Then his gaze fell on Goldie and it immediately changed with his face becoming hard and his eyes narrowed, now expressing only an inner coldness that was marred by immense displeasure.
When he spoke, he did so in a tone of restrained anger and vindictiveness.
"Apart from you. . .Fredbear. . ."
Immediately Goldie felt a thousand eyes fall on him and none were as strong as Vincent's gaze.
Goldie blinked, looking visibly confused and feeling a heavy sense of dread start to rise from within him.
"Wait, what have I ever done to you, I never knew you in until 1983, at least not on a personal level," he answered hastily, as he felt as though the ground was starting to collapse beneath him.
"None of us did," Freddy commented defensively, quickly coming to Goldie's aid.
"You were just one of several staff members back then Vincent, we hardly knew you."
"You were one of many faces," Chica remarked with a serious tone as she folded her arms with her narrowed eyes.
"How could Goldie have ever hurt you; it isn't in his nature. . .unlike yours."
Yet Vincent wasn't convinced by their words and he didn't shift his gaze from Goldie.
"You didn't need to know me in order to hurt me and you. . .Fredbear, hurt me badly."
His hands which hung by his side had now formed into tight fists, expressing his inner furry.
"You gave me a wound so deep and terrible that bled out and even now it still remains. . .making my old life nothing but a bitter and painful memory," he said coldly, although there was a clear undertone of anger as he spoke.
"Although there is a certain amount of irony in how one tragedy can lead to the creation of others, but I know that we're all used to making that connection."
There was a subtle collective growl of anger from the possessed prop suits, they understood Vincent's words, given how the murdered children had in turn murdered them.
Vincent's gaze was unflinching as his cold, yet fierce green eyes bore deep into Goldie's anxious dark red, yet the latter quickly put on a brave face, seeing Vincent's machinations.
"I don't know what I did to you that made you want to commit those horrific sicking acts, but don't you dare try to blame me for it!" Goldie retorted, feeling angry at this potential accusation.
"Whatever I did does not excuse the horrors that we've put everyone through!"
Yet Vincent surprisingly nodded, although his expression didn't relax in the slightest.
"I fully agree Fredbear, I won't excuse what I have done, but. . ."
"You cannot outrun the past Fredbear, it's towering over all of us and I need to reveal it for my sake and yours."
Goldie felt his blood freeze, he remembered some of those words, they were the exact same words that Nightmare Freddy had spoke to him during his first experience in the dreamworld.
Back then the Nightmare had been referring to Goldie's responsibility for the Bite of 1983, which made sense given how he knew the boy whom had suffered, but the fact that Vincent was using the same words, made Goldie's heart skip a few beats.
It couldn't be a coincidence.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he could spy out the knowing smiles of Lefty, Funtime Chica, Rockstar Bonnie and Dee Dee. Given how none of the other animatronics were smiling, he quickly deduced that the Nightmares were directly possessing them.
And they knew full well where Vincent was taking the conversation and the man's next words only confirmed what Goldie dreaded.
"Do you remember Fredbear and Friends?" he asked in a curious tone, but there was a coldness in his voice that made Goldie feel all the colour drain away from his face.
He could sense the sinister nature of Vincent making itself known through his voice.
"Do you remember the Bite of 83?" he enquired, with his cold eyes burning deep into Goldie's.
"I do, in vivid detail," Goldie answered back in a sombre tone.
"I remember every moment, the screams of the child, the terrified look on his face, the taunts and laughter of his bullies, the cracking sound of his skull and all of the blood."
He sighed in great shame.
"The shell-shocked expressions of the crowd, it was like time had stood still for a singular moment before chaos immediately took hold and panic ensured."
All of the other Fazbears looked pained as Goldie spoke, remembering his breakdown when he first recounted his tragic tale.
It was even more tragic with them knowing that Goldie in truth had no real control over what happened.
Yet Vincent's cold hard expression hadn't wavered at all in the face of Goldie's words.
"There's far more to that day then you remember Fredbear," he said bitterly.
"Given what you can remember, I am surprised that you don't recall the rest of it."
"And how would you know?" Puppet asked, now visibly annoyed by Vincent making Goldie relive his darkest day.
"It was an isolated incident, only a few would have known about it, given that FE was able to limit people's knowledge."
"It's not as though you were present."
Vincent smiled. . .a knowing smile.
"I was there Puppet, I was present on that dreadful day and I remember it vividly, every waking moment as though it was yesterday."
He then sighed in almost a mournful tone.
"Such horror and tragedy never left me. . .despite it being thirty years since that dark day."
"What gives you the right to be mournful or sorrowful?" Puppet asked in an annoyed tone. For her to see Vincent act in a hurt and grieving manner was an insult given his evil acts, it felt unnatural if anything else.
Yet Vincent's anger suddenly returned as his eyes lit up with a vengeful inner madness as he quickly faced Puppet.
"I have every right," he hissed softly, keeping his inner monster in check.
"As you will all soon learn. . ."
He then returned to face Goldie.
"I can help you remember more that dreadful day Fredbear, fill in the gaps that you didn't know existed."
"How do we know that you're not making stuff up?" Toy Bonnie asked in an accusing manner as she glared daggers at him.
"You don't have to believe me Toy Bonnie, I understand, but in this matter, I will be utterly truthful," Vincent answered stoically, although he didn't look away from Goldie.
"Think back Fredbear, remember those horrific scenes, try to recall everything, not matter how painful it is to remember it and the scenes should connect."
And so, Goldie dived deep into his memory, dragging out all of the pain that accompanied that day and he did feel reluctant to touch upon the mental agony that he had mostly buried for three decades.
Yet despite the sheer mental trauma of remembering it in vivid detail Goldie pressed on. He needed to do this so that they could finally uncover the heart of Vincent's motive that had eluded them for so long.
The others didn't seem to protest at what was he doing, as they too desperately wanted to know and for everyone's sake Goldie was willing to suffer the mental agony of reliving his wretched past to uncover the truth.
Pushing past his strong instinctive reservations required immense mental focus, so much that he tuned out of everything else around him. Sounds faded away into nothing and he couldn't feel the physical presence of those closest to him, that being Freddy, Puppet, Vincent, Lefty and some of the Possessed Prop Suits as he blocked them all out.
As he began to recall the boy's blood curling screams of terror and the mocking laughter of his bullies, including those of his older brother. Vincent's voice cut through and it was surprisingly encouraging for once.
"Stay the course Fredbear," he said in a tone of both encouragement and yet it clearly held sinister intentions.
"Focus only on those memories."
"Don't let anything else lead you astray."
His words gave Goldie the feelings of naked dread for where this moment was leading him and yet the curiosity of how the Bite of 83 involved Vincent.
Yet deep in his heart, he had a suspicion that terrified to him to his core and he prayed to heaven that he wrong.
"Keep focused Fredbear," Vincent said, still in a mixture of both encouragement and ill intent.
"I am quite sure that you will be shocked with what you should uncover, but in the end, one's interpretation of events are not so clear cut when you look at them again."
"And yet. . .that is often when we discover the most tragic and darkest of secrets that are otherwise best left buried. . ."
The door was slowly pushed opened as Springtrap carefully lean through, listening intensely for any sounds that might give away the presence of something sinister lurking in the room.
So far, he couldn't hear anything, but that didn't mean that someone or something wasn't hiding in the darkness, watching him through unseen eyes.
He reached down with one hand and tapped Gabriel on the shoulder, instructing to him to turn on the flashlight.
The boy did so, and he immediately swept the light across the room, quickly going from one corner to the next, making sure not to leave any area unsearched.
The light revealed the room to be another bedroom, only this one clearly belonged to a girl. There was a medium sized bed with a pinkish strawberry coloured quilt and several white pillows on top.
There was a green chest of drawers to one side and along the wall appeared to be a series of childish drawings and doodles. One the other side of the room was an open series of shelves that held various dolls and toys, but most were of My Little Pony and Barbie dolls. On top of it was an inactive lava lamp, it being green in colour.
Further beyond running along the same wall was another double shutter closet, which like its companion was also inbuilt into the wall.
The floor itself was reddish colour and on were several more toys scattered around, all of which looked very girly.
A set of Strawberry Shortcake dolls, a Tinker Bell makeup set, some Cabbage Patch Twins dolls and boy did they look ugly. So much that it was visibly off putting to even look at them.
On the bed there were some Pound Puppy toys, along with a Popples toy of sorts and finally somewhere off to one side was a child's plastic medical knit. Despite the aged appearance of the rest of the house, nothing in this room seemed to have aged, at least not in any drastic sense. Although the room was clearly dusty and filled with cobwebs.
Overall, the room looked relatively normal, until one looked at the room's far end on its left side and saw another door was situated there.
Having it placed there made no sense in terms of room design, but then again this was limbo, the rules of reality didn't apply here. Although it was nice to have an escape route, instead of being trapped in a room that would quickly become a dead end.
Still, they would need to check that door to make sure that there weren't any hidden threats lurking behind it.
Yet Springtrap's attention was quickly caught by that of the old 70s to 80s style toys. Seeing so many made Springtrap remembered how hugely popular they all were back in the day when he was preforming at Fredbear's Family Diner.
"Christ, every single toy here was an epidemic in my time, I remember seeing girls playing with those Barbie dolls nonstop at the diner, they were more interested in them then they ever were in Goldie and I," he mentally muttered to himself.
He wondered if they were still around in this day and age, probably, unless their popularity had since died.
With the coast seeming to be clear, he slowly headed inside, with Gabriel following right behind him, sweeping the flashlight across the room as more things came into view.
Sammy, Susie, Charlie, and Cassidy also entered the room in quick succession; with the latter two carefully closing the door shut behind them, so not to give away their location through making a loud noise.
Springtrap was still holding Tommy in his arms. The boy had long since ceased to cry out in pain for which Springtrap was greatly relieved, given the dire circumstances that they found themselves in.
Yet whenever he looked at Tommy, he could see a great deal of mental agony in the boy's eyes as he fought his inner battles with his demons or. . .whatever the hell had been speaking through him.
Was that his inner dark side, rearing its head?
If so, then Springtrap really wouldn't like to be dealing with it at the same time as having to fight off the pursing Nightmares.
There was much about Tommy had he wanted to know and yet he was equally afraid of what he might uncover.
Tommy was certainly not like the other dead children present, if anything he seemed to be an anomaly of sorts. Granted Springtrap was aware of the conception of souls being divided in a variety of ways and unable to move on due to their conflicted nature on how to settle things, but to see it in action was disturbing.
Nightmare Fredbear's words in that moment came back to haunt him.
"You are naïve, but that's to be expected, you cannot save him, at least, not the way that you think."
Springtrap shook his head, dismissing the Nightmare's words as he gently lay Tommy down before the bed, propping him up against it for back support.
Yet he couldn't help but wonder what the Nightmare meant by his words.
Something didn't quite add up and it was obvious that he was missing something vital, but what exactly?
He was certain beyond doubt that Tommy was saveable, but he sure was complicated and comparison it made the other children's problems seem rather small.
Yet Tommy was clearly troubled and Springtrap was willing to suspect, given what he knew about the boy that Tommy's problems were caused by trauma and a part of him that was unwilling to let go and move on.
But that was just a theory. . .
He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when Tommy spoke.
"Thank you SpringBonnie," he whispered, sounding rather exhausted and somewhat relived.
"For putting up with me. . .and them."
Springtrap leaned down and gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder as a form of reassurance.
"You don't have to apologise for anything, what is going on isn't your fault, you can't control what is happening to you," he said attentively.
He then gave Tommy a warm smile, which seemed to make the boy smile back, but in his eyes Springtrap could still see that he was in great pain. . .there was a storm raging inside.
"It hurts," he whispered painfully, putting one of his hands to his head.
"It always hurts."
"I know it does, just try to relax a little, you're far safer with us then you ever were with those monsters," Springtrap replied, lightly ruffling the boy's hair.
His eyes briefly glanced around at the room, seeing again all of the girlish toys and then pink strawberry bed cover.
"Whose room is this by the way?" he asked curiously, trying to take Tommy's mind off his inner pain, whilst also hoping to gain a deeper understanding of this place and what had been Tommy's home life.
"It's my sister's room, Elizabeth's," Tommy answered, sounding a bit more engaged in the conversation.
"She liked a lot of dolls, as well as to sing."
"She was very good when it came to drawing though."
Tommy's weary eyes glanced over to the room's left side and Springtrap turned to follow his gaze.
It was those series of drawings and Springtrap felt inclined to investigate them, but he knew that he had to check up on the other children first.
Being in the centre of the room he could see Charlie and Gabriel searching the room's closet and much like the one in Tommy's bedroom this one was equally imposing with its huge shutter doors.
Charlie was suited right outside the closet doors, whilst Gabriel shone the flashlight in between the closet doors, checking thoroughly for any hidden dangers by shining the light at the ceiling and in the dark corners of the closet.
Other than having a few dolls scattered about the closet floor, it was completely empty, much to the boys' relief, as Gabriel turned to face Charlie and nodded.
"It's secure," he remarked, sounding rather relieved, if not outright pleased.
"Good, we don't have to worry about being ambushed again by that 'Nightmare Mangle'," Charlie muttered bitterly, remembering all too well his close encounter with her earlier.
The scar that she had craved across his right cheek still stung like someone had plunged a red hot knife into it, and Charlie was worried that it might scar his face.
He could see Gabriel winch in the light, as he gazed uneasily at the wound that Nightmare Mangle had 'gifted' onto him.
"How is your wound?" he asked curiously and yet at the same time seemed to be dreading the answer.
"It hurts," Charlie replied, sounding significantly pained.
"Immensely. . ."
"It'll heal in time," Gabriel said in a reassuring tone.
"That outcome can't come soon enough," Charlie muttered in a bitter tone, wishing that the pain would quickly subside.
Seeing that Cassidy and Sammy were about to inspect the other doorway, Gabriel quickly turned and threw the flashlight over the bed toward Sammy who easily caught it, before returning his attention back to Charlie.
"Let's hope that we can get out of here," Gabriel remarked warmly.
"Let's hope so," Charlie said, slowly nodding, as his eyes flickered over to where Tommy lay, propped up against the bed.
"For all our sakes. . ."
Sammy and Cassidy inspected the doorway, carefully shining the flashlight everywhere at once, pushing aside the darkness like it was a heavy cloak, but they found nothing threatening in their search.
In fact, it turned out that the doorway just led into another long corridor that seemed to stretch both ways for entirety. Yet the fact that it was windowless made it clear that they had ended up moving further into the house, instead of reaching the windows.
At least they had an escape route though in case the Nightmares attacked them from one end.
Relieved that there were no hidden dangers, Sammy noticed that Cassidy was holding onto a picture frame.
"What is that?" he asked curiously, gazing at the picture which Cassidy hugged close to her chest. She held it with its back towards him, so he couldn't see the actual picture on the other side.
Cassidy whipped her head in his direction and her facial expression was one of dreaded anticipation.
"Something mind blowing to say the least," she whispered, and Sammy immediately detected the fear in her voice.
"We won't see things the same way ever again I think."
"Let me see please?" Sammy asked, reaching out for it, but Cassidy swiftly shook her head and tighten her grip on the picture's wooden frame.
"No, I need to show it to Springtrap first," she replied, sounding very cautious and at the same time afraid.
Her eyes turned in Springtrap's direction, seeing him still entertaining Tommy with various questions about his homelife. Springtrap looked reassuring, whilst Tommy seemed to be enjoying their little conversation with apparent ease, although he still looked pained.
"This could very well contain the answers that he's been seeking," she whispered, feeling both excited and tense.
Her eyes then moved onto Tommy, seeing him smile a little at Springtrap's responses.
"I don't hate you," Cassidy muttered, staring at the boy with a look of concern.
"How could you have known what your death would lead to. . ."
Whilst Springtrap was delighted that Tommy seemed to be feeling better, he did what to know more about his old waking life.
"Was Elizabeth a nice sister?" he asked curiously.
Tommy's smile faltered a little and he looked reflective, even though it seemed to pain him to think back on better days. Then both of their attention was caught by there being a sudden burst of green light that came from the lava lamp as Gabriel turned it on. With there being no immediate threats, he judged that it was safe enough to create a little light and thankfully it only brightened up most of the room, leaving the corners shrouded and not being strong enough to show under any of the doors and hence give away their location.
"Yes, she was very kind to me, and she usually protected me from our older brother Michael," Tommy replied, in an upbeat tone returning his attention to Springtrap.
"She cared for me, as did father, but Michael just wanted to bully me, he was like that ever since mum died."
His face dropped and he looked sad.
"Father tired hard to make things comfortable for us when mother went, he truly did, but even he was struggling, but he always tried to put our happiness first."
His smile returned a little, but he still looked quite sombre.
"My father was a good man, he was very creative, making all sorts of things down in his basement, he once made me a mini animatronic frog for my eighth birthday."
He then looked up at Springtrap and smiled fully.
"You would have liked him; he knew a lot about the Freddy's franchise, and I think that you were his favouritive animatronic too."
"I didn't realise that I was that popular," Springtrap remarked humorously and he smiled warmly, reaching out and lightly ruffling Tommy's brown hair.
"Your father sounds like a nice man, it's a great shame that he lost a son like you."
Tommy smiled briefly, but he then looked sad again.
"I don't. . .know if he is ok after all this time, or even if Elizabeth and Michael are still alive, I hope that they are all well," he said, sounding rather depressed, given that it been three decades since having seen his family.
"If I ever do see Michael again, I want to let him know that I forgive him for what he did, I know that despite our father's best efforts. . .we weren't in a good place. . .none of us were."
It looked as though he wanted to say more, but he seemed to be withdrawn into himself, probably due to feeling emotionally overwhelmed by memories of the past, be they good or bad.
"I hope that your family is safe too Tommy, regardless of what Michael did to you, he must miss you terribly, as does Elizabeth and your dad." Springtrap replied reassuringly, his eyes flicker over across the room to see if he could bring Tommy out of his sullen mood.
He wanted to ask Tommy more questions about his relationship with the Nightmares, but he knew that Tommy was quite fragile, especially when given his two sided nature and he needed to make him feel good in order to focus his tormented mind.
Then Springtrap's eyes fell upon the series of drawings that lined the left wall, he had an idea, well two actually.
"Hang on, I'll get your sister's drawings for you, you'll enjoy seeing them up close," he said, pushing himself up off the floor.
He saw Tommy smile briefly, so he knew that he was making the right choice.
Once fully upright, Springtrap made his way across the room to where the drawings were stationed. He briefly turned towards the main door and saw that Susie had her head pressed firmly against the door, listening intensity for any sound on the outside.
Her eyes momentarily turned to face him, and he mouthed the question if she could hear anything and she shook her head firmly.
They were safe. . .for the moment.
"Charlie, a word please?" Springtrap asked modestly, knowing full well that Charlie would pick up on the real meaning of his words as he secretly wanted to assess their current situation with him.
The boy immediately compelled, quickly crossing the floor to join Springtrap, as he examined the colourful drawings that were stapled to the far wall.
"Are the other children on course to reach us?" he asked quietly, but loud enough to be heard by Charlie.
"It's hard to say but given their emotional mood and what I am reading from them, then yes they are closing in on our location," Charlie replied, sounding a little hesitant.
"I know that they are desperate to find us, that much is clear to me."
Springtrap nodded slightly, that was some good news, he hoped that with their full numbers the Nightmares might think twice before attacking them again. . .although he could only hope.
He then fully turned his attention to the actual drawings. Immediately the first one of the five caught his eye with its immense detail and beautiful colours that seemed to dance right off the page. The drawing was that of a clown like girl, who had bright reddish or orange hair, vibrant green eyes, held a red microphone and wore a reddish skirt, including a reddish overall dress with matching clown bell shoes.
She appeared to be the age of a child despite her tall statue and large size and she was smiling sweetly in the picture. Underneath her was a name.
It read as: Circus Baby.
Springtrap being extremely carefully took hold of the drawing and slowly unstapled it from the wall.
He examined it in much closer detail but found nothing new.
"This is a very good drawing for a kid, clearly Elizabeth had an artistic flare," he thought assumingly as he turned it over to see if anything was on the other side.
He found a name, the writing was a bit jumbled up, so he read it out loud for clarification.
"By Elizabeth Afton."
Instantly, Springtrap's grey eyes widen at the surname, it was all too familiar with him to go unnoticed.
"Afton. . ." he muttered, sounding unsure as a feeling of dread exploded into being within him.
"Wait. . .what?" Charlie uttered, also in shock, his eyes widening at what he had just heard.
"Excuse me, Springtrap, I need to show you something, it's very important."
Instantly both Charlie and Springtrap turned round to see Cassidy standing before them.
She looked very nervous; her hands were trembling as she held a picture in her hands, with it facing both Springtrap and Charlie.
"I think we've found a vital piece of the puzzle," Cassidy whispered, her voice being shaky as though she greatly feared their reactions.
The picture itself was that of a family portrait, depicting three children and two adults.
The first child was obviously Tommy, wearing the usual grey and blue clothes as he did now, but at a much younger age.
Light brown hair, blue eyes and a face that read, 'I love my life'.
He looked happy, smiling even, glad to be there.
The second child was that of a girl of similar age with bright blonde hair and green eyes, the same eye colour as that drawing of Circus Baby.
Springtrap reckoned that she had to be Elizabeth.
The third child that was another boy, clearly older than Tommy, but he equally looked happy and friendly, smiling with warm brown eyes and black hair.
That was Michael, the eldest child.
Judging by their collective appearance, the children were of similar age, maybe four, five and six.
Slowly, both Charlie's and Springtrap's gaze shifted onto the parents and Springtrap admittedly smiled when he saw the mother, she looked to be someone who was incredibly open and warm hearted, and she was quite beautiful.
Then at last Springtrap's eyes wandered over to the father. . .he wasn't ready for what he saw.
Instantly he felt a wave of emotions surge within him, sudden recognition, immense shock, brief confusion, then great anger, followed once more by a stronger sense of confusion.
"No. . .NO, THAT CAN'T BE RIGHT!" Charlie shouted in frustration, forgetting about the dangers of alerting the Nightmares to their presence by raising his voice, but he simply couldn't contain himself.
His tone immediately caught the attention of everyone else, even Tommy, who gazed over at the small gathering, being immensely curious.
"What is it?" he asked in an unsure tone.
"Is something wrong?"
"SpringBonnie?" he called, but Springtrap didn't answer, he was too shocked to reply.
Slowly, Springtrap took hold of the picture off Cassidy, who was rather eager to part with it. Springtrap stared in confusion at the picture, at the father, a man whom Springtrap could recognise anywhere in the world.
Vincent Afton. . .the infamous Purple Guy, the Man Behind the Slaughter. . .was the father.
"Vincent Afton," Springtrap muttered, voicing his shock.
"But how. . ?" he asked aloud, feeling a thousand alarm bells ringing in his head non-stop as millions of pieces to the puzzle that was the great mystery that had hung over everyone finally began to connect together at a pace so fast that he couldn't mentally keep up.
For the first time, Springtrap felt afraid of the answers now that they were staring at him in the face.
This setting didn't make sense, it certainly didn't feel right and yet on both accounts it did and Springtrap felt himself tremble, shaking all over as he held the picture depicting a happy family.
At the bottom of the picture's wooden frame was a bronze plaque, it read as:
Thomas, Elizabeth, Michael, Evelyn and Vincent Afton, June 1977.
There was no room left for doubt, it beyond evident that Vincent was indeed Tommy's father, but Springtrap still didn't want to believe it.
This happy family picture didn't fit Vincent, not the crazed, sadistic, murderous and vindictive man that Springtrap knew.
He could hear Tommy's earlier words about his dad echoed back and forth in his mind.
"My father was a good man, he was very creative, making all sorts of things down in his basement, he once made me a mini animatronic frog for my eighth birthday."
"You would have liked him; he knew a lot about the Freddy's franchise, and I think that you were his favouritive animatronic too."
Then his own words came racing back.
"Your father sounds like a nice man, it's a great shame that he lost a son like you."
The man that Tommy had described and whom Springtrap had imagined to be his father didn't match Vincent in any shape or form. Especially with it being the man whose life long ambition seemed to be nothing more than the complete destruction of the Fazbear family, as though he had nothing left to live for.
Wait. . .
Springtrap's mind went into overdrive, bringing up information so fast that he couldn't handle all of it.
"Charlie?" he asked, his voice barely being a whisper.
"When did you and the other children die, the month and year please if you can?"
"I died sometime in 1978. . .I can't recall the exact month. . .but five of us died in June 1983. . .and then the other five died in November 1987," Charlie replied, his voice too was shaky, and he struggled to focus on Springtrap's question.
Yet with his answer, Springtrap slowly began to piece things together.
Tommy had died in May 1983 at a Fazbear Entertainment pizzeria, then a month later five children had been killed at another Fazbear Entertainment Pizzeria. Could it be that Vincent had done the act out of revenge, striking back at the company whom he deemed to be responsible for his son's tragic demise?
Yet more importantly Tommy had accidently died at Goldie's hand, even though he wouldn't never harm a child and Vincent had seemed utterly obsessed with hounding the Fazbear family into complete oblivion.
"Oh no. . ." Springtrap muttered, his voice was one of utter fear and dread as it fully dawned on him on what Vincent's real motivation was.
"Goldie. . ."
Yet his realisation only created more questions than answers that kept on multiplying in his mind like a ravenous swam.
What had happened to Elizabeth and Michael Afton?
What had caused Vincent to kill Charlie in 1978, his death seemed to be an outliner, but there had to be a reason behind it?
What had become of Evelyn Afton, Vincent's wife?
Tommy had mentioned that she had died when he was young.
The picture was dated 1977, could she have died in 1978 and Vincent had perhaps killed Charlie out of intense grief for his loss?
Springtrap knew that there was no use in trying to answer these questions, there were simply too many to process.
Yet he knew one thing for certain.
Given that Tommy's death was Vincent's motivation for just about everything and what Springtrap knew of the man; Vincent wouldn't stop until he had utterly destroyed those whom he deemed responsible and that the end would be undeniably bloody and absolute. . .until nothing remained.
The other Fazbears were in far more danger than they perhaps realised, given how destructive Vincent's mindset was.
Springtrap looked up, staring directly at Tommy. The boy's expression was one of immense confusion, curiosity, and dread. He undoubtedly wanted to ask Springtrap why a picture had caused him and the other children to look so pale and shaken.
"Is something wrong SpringBonnie?" he asked, even though he recognised the situation for what it truly was.
Yet amidst the tension that Springtrap felt rising deep within him, one singular thought passed through his mind; minus the hordes of questions that had since settled there and that raged unabated.
"If you truly love your father Tommy. . .then you would utterly hate to know what he has become. . ."
(Collapses face down onto computer keyboard due to exhaustion)
I've been wanting to get to this reveal since 2016!
I hope that it landed well, now that the curtains have been pulled back as Lefty calls it, but there is still much to explore. ;-)
Thank you for reading and do please review, I appreciate your thoughts.