Fazbear Escape Chapter 60: An Ever Expanding Game, a five nights at freddy´s fanfic

Hey all and happy seventh birthday to Five Nights at Freddy's everyone!

This franchise has given me immense joy and creative joy, I remember watching Markiplier doing his 'Lets Plays' when FNAF 1 debuted back in August 2014, good times.

Given how far FNAF has grown as a franchise, with books, mobile games and a film (still in development though), hopefully it has plenty of more life left in it and whoever takes over from Scott treats it well.

Anyhow, here is chapter 59, glad that I was able to get it out on time on FNAF's 7th anniversary.

A massive thank you to those who have kept reading up to this point, I'm glad that you are enjoying it!

This chapter will introduce some new (or familiar) elements, so do read carefully. ;-)

There is no song in this chapter, but there are several that I have lined up for chapters in the near future.

Apologies for any grammar mistakes and do enjoy.

Chapter 59.

An Expanding Game.

"I wanted to wait until just the right moment to drop in!"

Mangle from Ultimate Custom Night

Jeremy stared intensely at his computer screen, as he sat within his office.

Seeing how he had been regulated to the side-lines for the time being, he had decided to try and expand his records on the timeline of events at Freddy's and the profiles of the numerous peoples involved.

He had previously been listening to the news, the local news in particular.

The local news was still fixed on the events of yesterday including the sudden collapse of an eighty-storey factory which had been abandoned for decades somewhere in one of Chicago's eastern distracts.

Yet that wasn't what had set the news alight with constant activity akin to a ravenous beast feasting on a mountain of freshly killed prey. Yesterday's events had been a field day for the news crops' but this new source of info had set them off like a house on fire with near nonstop coverage.

Apparently, there had been a massacre at an I.T warehouse located in the city's outer suburbs, thirty to forty people dead and judging by the medical reports they had not been killed by 'normal means'.

Jeremy recalled recently seeing the TV's news report for himself before he set about organising his collection of information on the Fazbear mysteries.

A male reporter had been standing outside the entrance to the warehouse complex, giving updates as they flooded in.

Apparently thirty to forty people, men and women had been killed without the use of firearms, all melee and it wasn't one wound which had killed them. They had been stabbed, strangled, slashed, ripped, butchered and bitten to a degree so extreme that it looked as if a pack of wild animals had done it.

And animals they were. . .

Many had their faces ripped off like tearing skin off meat.

Jeremy had seen it, looking past the news reporter to see various medics and police wheel out bodies on trollies covered by a white sheet from head to toe, taking them straight to the city's morgue.

Their funerals would be a close casket, no one would want to see the mutilated remains.

And yet there was no footage of the attack caught on camera, no audio recordings either. The whole security system had been wiped clean despite having multiple passwords.

You would think that the police would find their phones and use them to follow up any potential leads, which logically they did. Yet they only found a small pile of smashed up metal and bent wires in one of the backrooms, the phones had been broken up to the point that they couldn't be reconstructed for any investigation.

Someone didn't want to be found so they had devoted a huge effort towards covering up their tracks.

Yet it was discovered in the daily timetable and administrative charts that a black van was meant to be present for deliveries.

The same black van which had been used in the recent terror attacks as the media was calling it now.

At least Jeremy now knew where the Nightmares had got their means of transportation from and it wouldn't be long until it was eventually found.

In all likelihood it was probably somewhere back where that old factory complex was standing before it collapsed after nearly taking them all with it.

"Any lead that the police hope to gain from it is most likely buried, at least we have a fresh one to go on," Jeremy muttered observantly, as he returned his attention to his computer screen.

It would be nice to have some police backup though when it came to potentially facing the Nightmares in the real world.

Although given Jeremy's wide range of guns they would be assured of receiving a hostile reception if they dared to show up here. His own shotgun which he kept leaned against the table leg of his work desk symbolised his determination to be 'ever ready' as some would put it.

Suddenly, there came the sound of the backdoor opening and closing, before being succeeded by the sound of footsteps, but Jeremy knew it to be Mangle returning from being outside in his garden.

"Jeremy, Mike, where are you guys?" she called from somewhere in the lounge.

"I'm in here Mangle," Jeremy quickly replied, hoping to avoid her disturbing Mike whilst the latter was on guard duty.

Soon there came the sound of quick footsteps and Mangle swiftly appeared in the office doorway.

"Ah, there you are Jeremy, sorry to disturb you, but I fancy some company while waiting for something to happen," Mangle said warmly, there was a spring in her feet as well as an aura of happiness surrounding her. It was something that Jeremy hadn't sensed from Mangle for a long while.

"You seem to be in a good mood currently," Jeremy remarked observantly, but he was glad to see her happy instead of being miserable.

"I feel better about myself, a little," Mangle replied, sounding relaxed, the look in her yellow eyes was mostly one of content.

"I have recently realised that I need to move and try to solve my problems rather than linger in my own misery."

Yet there lay a sliver of dread, it was well hidden, but Jeremy could see it simmering away in the far back of her mind.

Still, Jeremy smiled, wanting to be supportive of Mangle, speaking in a hopeful manner.

"Well, I sincerely hope that you are able to move on from your misery Mangle, you've been in the dark for far too long."

He did want to help her get through her own demons, but only Mangle could truly conquer and subdue them.

"I wish you well."

Mangle smiled a warm smile and she seem to glow because of it. It was like her inner happiness was manifesting itself, be it briefly.

"Thank you, Jeremy, I have long road ahead of me, but I know what I need to do. . .when the time comes"

That small hesitation gave Jeremy the understanding that Mangle still greatly feared what lay ahead, but at least she was trying to overcome the demons that had long since plagued her.

"So, I see that you are doing admin?" she remarked, gesturing to the several Word documents that lay open on Jeremy's computer screen.

"Some of it at least," Jeremy muttered plainly, turning back in his chair to look at the computer screen.

"After pushing myself for so many in trying to fashion out a dam timeline for this whole carnage of events, I have been trying to add the whole incident at Fredbear and Friends to the timeline, but each time I add something new in, it just raises more questions than answers to other things.

Jeremy stared hard at the long list of events, looking at each one with an intrigued expression that also held a strong feeling of weariness.

So many years he had spent trying to put two and two together and even with the Fazbears' help which had aided in filling a lot of blank spaces, many more remained. Perhaps some parts would remain insolvable, always a mystery and it would keep luring him back to try and uncover them.

"Five nights, it was just a job as a night guard for five nights per week they said," Jeremy commented grumbled.

"Everything looked so simple back then and now. . .well, that's anyone's guess."

He pressed the up button, going back through the timeline, before stopping a a random date.

March 1979 – Fredbear's Family Diner closes due to fallout from the murder of a child outside of its property and the breakdown of its beloved performer SpringBonnie. Manager Freddy Fredbear closes the diner and sells his entertainment franchise rights to the newly developing Fazbear Entertainment company.

Freddy Fredbear. . .the owner of Fredbear Family's Diner.

Jeremy's eyes narrowed as he stared at the name, the gears in his mind turning as he approached a particular question.

"What happened to you Freddy Fredbear?" he mentally questioned, as the name of the mysterious individual crowded his mind, taking up all his concentration.

"Where did you go?"

"Where did you disappear off to exactly?"

Suddenly, he felt Mangle's hand touch his shoulder, no doubt she was learning over to see what he was looking at, her attention had been caught as well by the name of Goldie and Springtrap's original owner.

In the past the mere sensation of Mangle would have sent Jeremy's nerves alit with fear and an instinctive urge to get away from her, often with a weapon of sorts to defend himself.

Now though, in this quiet setting, he merely felt the smallest ripple of tension travel up his spine, easily repressed.

Things were different now between them, the past could simply be the past, for the most part.

"Freddy Fredbear, the owner of Fredbear's Family Diner, the first pizzeria," Mangle remarked with an intrigued tone, staring at the name on Jeremy's screen.

"Technically speaking of course," she added causally, before returning to a more sober tone.

"Still, any idea as to what happened to him?"

"No, the trail on him goes cold pretty quickly after 1980, not that I have spent much time looking into him, but anything that do I find is mostly referencing the handover of his business to Fazbear Entertainment," Jeremy replied, sounding somewhat frustrated by the lack of progress on this particular subject, but the timeline always needed new additions, it never stopped growing.

"Yet, hopefully with a renewed effort we might uncover something of intr-"

THUD!

There was a sudden loud bang from far up above, followed swiftly by the creaking of tiles.

"What was that?" Mangle asked urgently, looking up at room's ceiling, although the sound clearly came from the house's roof if anything.

"Definitely not a bird, that was far too heavy," Jeremy commented alarmingly, also looking towards the ceiling.

Thud

Several similar thud like sounds rang out from the roof, seeming to be moving towards the left side of the house.

"That is too heavy to be anything else but a-"

"Endoskeleton!" Mangle said alarmingly, beating Jeremy to the punch.

They both looked at eachother and they knew what needed to happen next.

"Come on, if Vincent is indeed up to something on the side, then I don't intend to let him get the drop on us," Jeremy ordered, quickly grabbing his shotgun and leaving the room, Mangle swiftly followed, checking her endoskeleton belt which was wrapped around her waist.

They moved round towards the backdoor, as they did Mike stuck his head out of the doorway of the Originals' bedroom.

"Did you guys hear that?" he asked, watching them go by.

"Yes, we're investigating it, best be on guard Mike," Mangle called out in a serious tone, although there was little doubt that Mike didn't understand what that 'thud' meant.

There was no animal around that could cause such a loud noise, only one 'creature' fitted the profile.

Mike nodded firmly, before quickly disappearing back inside the bedroom and closing the door shut.

"Things are heated, what I would give to have a blast door between me and whatever endoskeletons may attempt to break in," Mike muttered cautiously, casting his gaze around the room.

The Fazbears were all still asleep, seeing to be resting peacefully. . .until Mike looked closer.

It was Foxy, who gave Mike the indication that something was wrong.

His face was cut, his nose looked bashed and blood was dripping from it.

"What the. . ." Mike asked himself, clearly bewildered.

He looked at Chica and saw the bruises that peppered her skin and there was a faint smell of smoke in the air and it seemed to be coming from her.

How, had she been fired somehow whilst in the dream world, although given what Mike himself had seen when he was in there, anything was possible.

When Mike's eyes fell on Puppet, the smoky smell remained, so she too must have been burned somehow.

"What is going on in there," Mike wondered aloud.

In fact, when looking at everyone else more closely, they all seemed to have various kinds of bruises and cuts.

"I can only hope that you guys will pull through," Mike muttered, stepping away and returning to his usual guardsman position of leaning against the wall.

"I have the easy job," he whispered plainly, turning his eyes towards the window, gazing out into the street and whatever hidden threat lay out there, let alone what had just landed on the roof.

"For now, at least anyway. . ."

When Jeremy and Mangle reached the backdoor, Jeremy turned to face her and his face was one of deep seriousness, he had no intention of underestimating the potential danger.

"Ok Mangle, you stay here, I'll go out and investigate, if anything does attack me, then you rush out to support me, better to have one of us get ambushed then for it to be both of us, agreed?" he asked.

"Agreed," Mangle cautiously, she fully understood what was being asked of her.

Jeremy gripped the door handle, pushing it down slowly and opened the backdoor, revealing the back garden beyond.

A few minutes earlier. . .

No sooner had Mangle closed Jeremy's backdoor shut upon reinterring the house, after her bizarre mental experience at Springtrap's gravestone, something else occurred.

Through the bushes that lined the boundary between Jeremy's back garden and that of his neighbour, a dog stuck their head out an opening and gazed at the surrounding area.

Its yellow eyes darted about, examining the scene, but there was nothing of interest.

Seeing that there was no one else around, the dog cautiously moved out of the bushes, fully revealing itself and observing more of the area.

Yet there were no people to interact with and no cats to chase, that would annoy other dogs, but not this one.

Not this dog. . .

Noting that there was truly no one else around, the dog moved away from the bushes, its paws softly hitting the grass as it advanced into the centre of the garden.

It was then that it spotted a rather peculiar thing, a slab of grey stone sticking up out of the ground.

Out of interest, the dog approached the stone slap, nearing it by the side before moving round to the front to get a better look at it.

There was writing on the front, words but the dog was able to make sense of it. . .as was someone else as well.

The words themselves carried a sombre tone, a reflective meaning, they were words of remembrance if anything else. Seeing all that there was to see, the dog felt compelled to explore further, be it from its own desire or something else.

Turning to look back at the house, the dog spied the back door and suddenly felt lured to it for some reason.

Approaching the back door at a steady pace, the dog eyed it with interest, leaning from left to right, trying to see if it was possible to open it.

Now it could technically bash the door down with its strength, the dog did possess such a capacity. However, it would be very unwise to do so as it didn't wish to gain any attention towards itself.

Its owner especially didn't want that to happen, and the dog knew that as well.

Seeing how it was next to impossible to gain entry without rousing suspicion, the dog left the backdoor and head out further into the garden.

Yet, as it did, its understanding that there were no eavesdroppers nearby was shared. . .with another.

Coming down from on high was a bird. It swept over the house and the garden, and its shadow briefly covered Springtrap's gravestone as it headed straight for a nearby tree.

Proceeding to perch itself neatly on an outlying large branch, the impact of its landing made the branch shake, many green leaves fell to the ground.

The bird stood to attention and gazed outwards, its sharp green eyes coming to focus on the dog that prowled around the yard.

Stay, watch, alert the dog if there is unexpected company.

As far as the bird knew those were its own thoughts.

Seeing the dog begin to move around to the left side of the house, the bird redirected its attention towards the house, watching the back door.

Upon going round to the left side of the house, dog could only find a sturdy wooden fence blocking off access to the front lawn and the street, not that it truly mattered for the dog could easily get there by retracing the route it took to enter the garden via the hedges and access the street that way.

The fence itself although sturdy for the most part did look bartered and sunken in a few places and by the looks of it the damage had been inflicted recently, by a storm perhaps?

Then the dog felt a sudden compulsion to see over the fence to try and jump

Jump. . .observe.

The dog leapt forward, grappling with the fence, scrapping against it, and gripping the top with its paws.

With enough strength it was able to pull its head of up high enough to see over the top of the fence.

Its yellow eyes darted about all over the place, seeing everything at once, houses, front gardens, a few parked cars, a van an-

Buzzzz

Static briefly filled the dog's vision, ratting in its ears with a low hazy buzzing noise, but once its gaze left the van both the static and the low humming noise rapidly faded away. However, the dog's attention had been earned as it looked back at the parked van, it looked relatively modern with a grey paintjob, there was nothing about it that stood out as odd.

Yet the static returned, followed by that low humming noise.

Buzzzz

Narrowing its yellow eyes, the dog spied on the people within the van, they looked normal enough, wearing typical human clothes.

Yet something was definitely odd.

At that exact moment, the bird jerked its head up, away from looking at the backdoor and towards the open sky.

Investigate, go up.

Launching itself off the tree branch and stretching its wings out wide, the bird soar upwards, heading for the roof of the house.

It landed on the roof with a sizeable thud, feeling the tile crunch and even buckle beneath its feet.

The bird reoriented itself, walking forward across the roof, creating smaller thuds as it moved.

Positioning itself on one of the roof's left corner the bird spied on the grey van that lay parked a short distance away.

Buzzzzz

Static filled its vision, with there being a low buzzing sound accompanying it.

The noise distorted the bird, forcing it to step away to avoid a sensory overload, yet it felt compelled to continue somehow.

Look closer, zoom.

The bird stepped forward once again, ignoring the static, focusing its green eyes at the van's front, in particular at the van's front screen.

Through the hazy static it could spy out two people in both the driver's and front passenger's seats, but something seem odd with the way they were just sitting there, unmoving. The more the bird focused on the two people the worse the static and buzzing noise became, forcing the bird to go away to avoid overloading its senses.

Once done, the static and the buzzing stopped abruptly.

However, what it had seen was more than enough to indicate that was something was up.

Suddenly from below there came the sound of a door being opened. . .the backdoor!

Immediately new thoughts entered bird's head and that of the dog's as well.

Go back into hiding, something is wrong, do not explore, cannot risk discovery.

Now alerted to the presence of unexpected company, the dog immediately dropped back down off the fence to the ground, landing on its paws.

The dog quickly turned and swiftly vanished into some nearby bushes which were thankfully big enough to hide it completely.

The bird meanwhile flew off the roof, heading for some nearby trees that stood in the garden of another house. As it soared through the air, it cased its gaze back towards the house, seeing a man roughly in his thirties or forties wandering around the garden, looking towards the roof with a worried, but investigative expression. They also appeared to be armed, cradling a shotgun in their hands.

They must have heard the thud it created when it landed on their roof, but the bird no longer paid any mind to the man.

Upon reaching the safety of the nearby trees, branches once more shaking heavily under its weight, the bird settled down into gazing back once more at the house.

New thoughts entered its head.

Remain stationary, watch, listen and only act otherwise if it is deemed essential.

Both the bird and the dog compelled with their new directive, with the dog crouching down in its new hiding spot, its yellow eyes staring out intensely at its surroundings.

There came the sound of approaching footsteps as two feet came into view through the leaves of the bushes, but the dog remained completely still, watching the feet of the newcomer as though it was a coiled snake, ready to strike if it was needed.

No other dog could follow a command for indefinitely, no matter how well it was trained by in its owner.

Yet, this particular dog was well trained, from birth in fact, it knew how to follow commands and remain exactly on point.

Seeing through its objectives, whatever they were to the very end was a speciality for this dog and compared to the appearance of other dogs it was easy to spot.

A brown greyish fur coated its metallic body, hiding tons of internal machinery, wires, gears, and frames beneath.

Its yellow eyes set within its somewhat pointy and triangular head narrowed as it set watch on the unsuspecting house, barring its metallic white outer teeth that hide its inner endoskeleton jaw.

Around its neck was a red collar with a golden pendent that bore its name.

The dog could wait for as long as it was required until its master from afar issued new commands.

For now, it would wait for the newcomer to leave, as they eventually would and to listen, waiting for if anything interesting might occur.

It would record and transit what it saw back to its unseen master.

Whatever its' master desired. . .it would fetch. . .

The bird was the same, being fairly large for a simple blackbird, with its black feathery body hiding its metal endoskeleton, various gears and wires that lined its internal body like blood veins. It sported a small orange sharp triangular beak and bore long yellow stocky legs, not to mention big black wings.

The Blackbird was a constant observer, it would listen, record; sending everything back to its unseen master, and if necessary, it would 'haunt' or rather harass those who try to harm the dog.

It would stalk those whom its master deemed was worth of following and punish those who tired to impede its mission.

For the Blackbird, it always watches. . .

Whatever feelings Springtrap had ever felt about anything before, no matter how strong those emotions were at the time, it all paled in comparison to what he was feeling right now.

One thought existed in his mind, constantly echoing back and forth without any relent.

Vincent Afton was Tommy's father. . .Thomas Afton.

He was the son of the man behind the slaughter.

"SpringBonne, what is wrong?" Tommy asked with immense curiosity, looking concerned as he stared longingly at Springtrap, trying to catch his attention.

"What's up with the picture?" he called out, trying to gain anyone's interest, but all of the other children were also too busy focused on the picture that Springtrap held in his hands.

They didn't know why it had shocked him, but for Springtrap to look so shaken and pale only outlined the horror of his discovery.

"Guys, why are you so scared, it's just a picture."

This time, Tommy's words of disbelief at the reason for everyone's reaction seem to reach Springtrap's ears, as he turned to look at Tommy directly.

Their eyes locked, baby blue starting longingly at greenish grey. Slowly, and focusing intensely to keep his hands from shaking, Springtrap turned the picture around, revealing it for all to see.

A few of the children, most notably Sammy and Susie were unable to contain their reactions as they gasped in shock and horror at the sight of Vincent in the family portrait. . .not that Tommy knew that.

If anything, he looked even more confused by everyone's responses to it.

It was just a picture of his family. . .what was so shocking about it?

Unless they recognised one of them perhaps?

He was about to ponder that idea more, but Springtrap's words derailed his train of thought before it had even left the station.

"Is this your family?" he asked slowly, seeing to try and keep his tone as plain as possible.

"Yeah, it is," Tommy started, leaning forward and Springtrap could see that he was trying to ignore his inner pain as the boy put his hand to his head to ward off an impending 'headache'.

"That's me, Elizabeth and Michael. . ."

Tommy's voice notably dropped off when he mentioned Michael, becoming quiet, further evidence of the psychological wounds that his older brother had inflicted on him.

He quickly recovered however, but Springtrap saw his eyes for the briefest of moments 'glitch', a sudden appearance of red. Well, he thought he saw something, this room wasn't well lit and shadows clung to surrounding walls like a thick blanket.

"Then there's my mother Evelyn and my father Vincent," Tommy concluded, now seeming to be pleased with himself that he could remember their names. Yet through his eyes Springtrap could still see his pain howling out behind his pupils like a thunderstorm.

This boy was truly cursed by something.

"Why are you all shocked by them, they're just my family?" Tommy asked curiously, but there an undeniable degree of dread in his voice, having seen the horrified reactions of everyone else.

He couldn't simply ignore what their expressions implied.

Something was wrong and was all because of his family's picture, Tommy's eyes darted from one child to the next, registering their inner emotions.

"Did one of them do something bad?" Tommy asked in a confused manner, completely unaware of how much of an understatement his words actually were.

Before any of the children could speak Springtrap spoke first, quickly dominating the conversation.

"No, it's actually that we recognise them from Freddy's, in particular your father, he was a hard working man, a good employee and an nice person."

Springtrap, with one free hand gestured at the figure of Vincent Afton.

"I remember him, at least from what Goldie has told me."

He ignored the WTF face he was getting from Charlie, whose cold eyes blazed with both immense shock and anger at what he was hearing. Springtrap knew he was lying, but it was better than having Tommy know the terrible truth about his father. . .a white lie.

He didn't deserve to be brought further into this mess; he had already suffered enough.

Fate, however, might think otherwise and Springtrap kept speaking so to prevent Charlie or any of the other children from contradicting his lies, hoping that they would catch onto his reasoning for lying to Thomas Afton.

"However, the reason why we are all shocked, Charlie especially here, is because we never knew that such a kind and caring man like Vincent Afton. . ."

Charlie looked as though he was about to explode, his eyes burned with unrivalled disbelief at what he was hearing, yet Springtrap continued uninterrupted.

"Could have gone through such a terrible tragedy as losing his son in such a horrific way."

Springtrap sighed, gently putting the Afton family picture on the ground, resting it against his legs.

"He never gave off the impression of having suffered so much, he hid his pain well, even on his darkest days when I saw him."

"Please Charlie, don't tell him the truth, he doesn't need to know, he is Vincent's son, but he has nothing to do with the crimes his father have committed," Springtrap mentally pleaded, his eyes filled with worry at Charlie's emotions getting the better of him.

Quickly, looking around at the other children, he could see that they all clearly disagreed with his words.

Gabriel looked horrified, staring at Springtrap with a look of shock, but there was anger in his eyes, with his face having darken considerably.

Cassidy looked withdrawn, but Springtrap could make out a coldness in her eyes, with a considerable element of what could at best be described as a feeling of betrayal.

"Please, don't draw him into this, he has nothing to do with what happened to you," Springtrap mentally begged.

"You all acknowledged how your actions in the past only made your misery worse, Tommy is just an innocent victim, like the night guards were."

Yet when his eyes turned to look at Susie, he could see that she sensed treachery with him downplaying Vincent's crimes. Sammy too held an expression of confusion and hurt, with his hands having formed into fists, signalling his inner anger at Springtrap's lies.

The truth shouldn't be buried just because Tommy was simply Vincent's son.

Everyone should know what that monster did, so he would have no place to hide.

Even though Springtrap had no ill intent in hiding the truth from Tommy, they had to know that he was simply trying to protect him. He clearly didn't know anything about his father's crimes and therefore in Springtrap's eyes he didn't deserve to become entangled in this mess.

However, this meant that the other children, Vincent's victims would have to play along with Springtrap's lies and uphold his false portrayal of Vincent for Tommy's sake.

Obviously, that didn't seat too well with them. . .at all.

"It's a shame that Vincent has had to suffer the loss of his child, very much like the parents of these children have and undoubtedly still do," Springtrap announced, slightly nudging Charlie and Cassidy to get them to respond.

Charlie's wrathful expression immediately vanished, replaced by a sombre one, as he now looked downcast.

"It's. . .true. . .your father. . .must be in the same pain. . .as our parents, I just. . .hope that. . .you can remember the good times. . .not just the bad," he muttered thoughtfully, but one could see in his eyes that it was taking all his willpower to keep his immense dislike of what was happening at bay and under wraps.

Tommy, however, didn't seem to notice, or at least draw attention to Charlie's inner struggle.

"I never knew your father, but I do remember that he was a helpful member of staff back when I visited Freddy's," Cassidy remarked softly, although much like Charlie you could see her emotional agony at having to lie about the kind of person Vincent Afton was.

Doing so clearly hurt her, but it hurt Springtrap even more for having to force her to lie.

Yet he believed that Tommy shouldn't be made aware of the crimes of his father, it would only to add to his misery if he knew the horrible truth.

"Please don't become vengeful Cassidy," Springtrap mentally pleaded, expressing his sincere plea for her to not give into her inner demons.

"He has nothing to do with what Vincent has done."

Cassidy sighed, before continuing with.

"I'm certain that he is doing his best to honour your memory Tommy," she said warmly, giving him a slight smile.

She then casted a brief glance at Springtrap and in her eyes he could see her real feelings. Pain, confusion and angry at having to deny her murderer's actions to simply keep his son oblivious.

Tommy smiled, completely unaware of the growing tension within the room.

"It's just a shock," Gabriel began, sounding sincere.

"We didn't know that your father was the same man who seemed so caring back at the pizzeria, maybe he didn't wish to share his grief with others."

"He was a caring man," Tommy replied slowly, seeming to absorb Gabriel's words, before turning to look at him with a calm expression, although in his eyes he still looked pained.

"It's a pity that he was unable to save you from the bad man who killed you, he would shown that monster what for."

Gabriel had to physically swallow to prevent himself from correcting Tommy for his unknowing mistake of identity.

It felt so tempting to tell him, but Gabriel restrained his inner urge to reveal the horrid truth to him. Yet it didn't quell the anger that he felt at having to lie, why shouldn't Tommy know about his father's crimes, given the state everyone was in why hold anything back?

"My father would have tried to stop the bad man who murdered you, he probably would have killed him himself if it meant protecting you," Tommy remarked, now turning to look at Susie and Sammy.

"That's a nice thought," Susie muttered, expressing a small relieved smile, but again, as with the other children, her eyes shown her true feelings of agony to submerge the truth for Tommy's sake.

"Let's hope that he is protecting some other kids right now and entertaining them with his inventions, I overhear you mention that to Springtrap," Sammy said joyfully, his reassuring tone, further preventing Tommy from catching onto the actual mood in the room and allowing Springtrap to mentally breathe a sign of sweet relief.

"Thank you," he mentally remarked, knowing just how tough it was for the children to lie, alone resist the opportunity to gain vengeance on Vincent Afton indirectly by revealing his responsibility in their demise to his son of all people.

Yet what were the odds that out of all the souls in Limbo, they just happen to encounter Vincent's ignorant son.

Seeing that the risk of Thomas uncovering the truth about his father had decreased considerably, Springtrap's eyes darted over to the other drawings that lined the nearby wall of Elizabeth Afton's bedroom.

There were four more besides the one he already held, and they all seemed to be figures drawn with a circus theme in mind. The one closet to him was a clearly defined female ballerina figure, with bluish hair, sporting a purple ballerina skirt with a blue bra strap, alongside blue skin tights and dance shoes.

Underneath the figure was their name:

Ballora.

It sounded pretty, a fitting name.

"Elizabeth liked to imagine that those performers were us, Mum was a ballerina back when she was younger," Tommy said slowly, having followed Springtrap's gaze.

Springtrap reached out and traced the painted lines of the ballerina with his fingers, feeling the heavy coating of colour pens.

Ballora was very beautiful and stunningly detailed, once more highlighting Elizabeth's creative talent.

"Mum was a brilliant dancer," Tommy remarked, but there a great deal of sadness in his words, he was probably reflecting on happier days.

"I can vaguely recall her dancing for us sometimes when I was really little."

Springtrap looked at the next drawing, it showcased a Freddy, only this one was dressed in a fine white and pinkish suit, sporting fine white hair, pinkish bear ears and bright blue eyes. He carried a polished microphone in one hand, whilst in the other he appeared to wield a blue hand puppet of Bonnie that held bright green eyes.

Underneath the detailed drawing was a name:

Funtime Freddy and Bonbon.

"Funtime Freddy," Springtrap commented dryly.

"How very imaginative."

However, Elizabeth had clearly taken great care in transferring her imagination onto paper, once more her creative abilities shone through.

Where was she though?

Based on what Tommy had said earlier he was unaware as to Elizabeth's current whereabouts, or that of Michael.

Yet, Springtrap decided to withhold his nagging curiosity for another time.

"Why are we lying to him?"

Springtrap turned and saw Charlie staring at him intensely with a demanding expression.

He spoke low enough so Tommy wouldn't hear him, but the seriousness of his tone was reflected in the angered gaze in his eyes.

"Why can't he know the truth of what his monster of a father did to us?"

"I will not lie about Vincent Afton anymore."

Springtrap merely stared back at the boy, trying to quickly come up with an answer, thankfully he was able to think of something

"I thought you wanted to move on from the past and try to start anew, perhaps giving Tommy a happy memory of his father might be a good place to start, it would be a good deed," Springtrap remarked persuasively, hiding his concern that Charlie may fall back into his old ways, seeing the world morally through a black and white lens.

There could be no room for moral grey.

"You know that it is wrong and given the situation that we are all in why hold anything back?" Charlie asked insistently, his eyes briefly darted over to Tommy who was now staring up at the room's ceiling with his eyes closed.

He looked tired and worn out, evidently in discomfort.

Also it wasn't helped by how innocent Thomas Afton seemed to be at most. It wasn't helped by how innocent Thomas Afton seemed to be at most times and it only further aggravated Charlie.

"Plus, if you are so intent on protecting him from the truth, then at least consider how having to lie is hurting us," Charlie said dispassionately, turning to look back at Springtrap.

"To have us speak of Purple Guy in glowing praise, it makes me sick."

He looked away with an expression of disgust, but he seemed to be in turmoil as well, which was no surprise, given the circumstances.

"Vincent deserves everything that is coming from him, his son had no part in it, plus. . ."

Now it was Springtrap's turn to look away, staring at the wall of drawings by Elizabeth Afton, not that they brought him much comfort.

"He is emotionally fragile and there is something dark within him, I wouldn't want to risk unbalancing him."

"He knows more what he is letting on, I think that is in everyone's' interest to find out as much as he knows, without giving him a reason to have another emotional breakdown."

Charlie gripped his head and vented his anger through tense breathing, he really felt as though he was on a cliff edge and there was no doubt that the other children felt the same.

"Actually, speaking of gaining information, there is something I would like to raise," Sammy asked, he looked a little sheepish, clearly his thoughts were weighing heavily on him. Both Springtrap and Charlie turned to face him, their interest clearly gained.

"Back in the closet in Tommy's bedroom, when we got jumped by Nightmare Mangle," Sammy began slowly.

Immediately, the memory of Nightmare Mangle with her endoskeleton claws and sharp teeth came racing back to haunt Springtrap.

"A shadow that became much more."

What did she mean by that?

True, she was a 'shadow' version of Mangle, but what had she been previously, had she evolved, was she implying that?

Sammy continued.

"She mentioned how we were murderers, and how there were two ways in which people could see us, innocent victims or vengeful devils."

"How did she know though, we've never met her before until now?"

"Good point," Springtrap, but before he could answer further, Gabriel beat him to it, speaking with a degree of certainty.

"Couldn't Purple Guy have told her, or told some of the Nightmares and they then informed the others perhaps?"

He then hugged himself, looking unsure, his expression being one of worry.

"Although how Purple Guy would know about what we did, I cannot grasp, but it is creepy that the Nightmares know."

"Someone knew and someone told them," Susie remarked observantly.

"It has to be Purple Guy, who else knows as much about the Fazbears then him, nor has anyone pursued them for as long as he has," Cassidy pointed fervently, dead set in her conviction.

"It can only be him. . .who else."

"Who is Purple Guy?"

Everyone turned and saw Tommy staring at them with an inquisitive expression.

"Purple Guy, is he the man who murdered you?"

"Yes, that is what we call him," Susie answered plainly.

"Also, it is how we remember him too."

"Why is that?" Tommy asked, his curiosity had been peaked.

"It just is, when I saw him, he was all shadowy and purple like," Charlie replied plainly, restraining the urge to confess the whole truth as well as pushing the frightening images of Vincent's cold eyes far from his mind.

Technically he hadn't lied about Vincent, he just hadn't associated his name with the person

"My dad did wear purple uniforms at his workplace," Tommy mumbled, now looking away, lost in his thoughts.

"He very much liked the colour, it made him stand out apparently."

One could see the cogs turning behind his mind, trying to put context into their words, wondering if there was a connection, but his head and eyes felt heavy, the constant pain dragged down his thoughts. Tommy closed his eyes and tried to ward off the constant headaches and pain that he felt, but it didn't lessen the presence of either.

Forcing himself to stay awake and focus, he looked towards the newcomers, some of the children, Gabriel and Cassidy, if he remembered their names correctly, had returned their attention to Springtrap.

The others like Sammy, Susie and Charlie were focused on Elizabeth's drawings, as was Springtrap.

Elizabeth had been a good drawer, no, an excellent drawing, she had a very active imagination.

Often, she had pleased with their father for him to make the Funtimes into actual animatronics for her to play with.

"Daddy, can you please make my Funtimes real. . .please daddy, they would be so much fun to play with."

Their father had promised Elizabeth that he would one day make the Funtimes real, 'in the flesh' as he put it, it would be a birthday present. Whether he actually did make Elizabeth's dreams come true was unknown to Tommy, but he would have liked to have seen them in action, even though Elizabeth's skilled drawings seem to fly off the pages that she drew them on.

Tommy looked at the children yet again, watching as they were all gathered around Springtrap, trying to decipher the mystery that surrounded this place.

They were interested in him, and he would be lying if he denied that he was interested in them as well, or liked their company; but he knew that he shouldn't feed their interest. They had to leave, he wanted them to leave for their own safety, before things got worse, but they refused and now there was next to nothing he could do but try and convince them to go.

No knowledge was worth the price of the horror that the Nightmares would put them through, and Tommy knew that from personal experience alone.

They had to go, by any means necessary, it was for their own good.

"I'm sorry, but you cannot stay here, I want to save you from them. . .from h-"

Suddenly, he felt a similar sensation fall upon his mind and he instantly knew what was happening, or what was about to happen, not that he would actually get to see it.

As he told Springtrap before, he wasn't in control of anything here. . .not even himself. . .

Springtrap stared at the fourth drawing that lined the wall of Elizabeth's bedroom. This drawing consisted of a white humanoid fox, but it was hard to tell they were male or female judging by the design.

Yellow eyes, white hair, white pinkish fox ears, in the same design of Foxy's and Mangle's, with a smart suit that was a blend of white and pink, plus two white shoes and a red bowtie on their neck.

At the bottom of the page was their name:

Funtime Foxy. . .

"Definitely a showman this guy," Springtrap wondered, whispering to himself, quiet enough so that Tommy wouldn't hear.

"I can imagine him doing big speeches in the middle of a wide circus ring."

"Still, the idea that such an innocent child like Thomas or Elizabeth came from a man like Vincent Afton. . ."

He then sighed and put his hand against the bedroom wall, leaning heavily into it.

"What happened to you Vincent Afton?" he mentally asked.

"Why did you do it and has it been worth it?"

His eyes wearily looked back at the drawing of Funtime Foxy, happy, smiling, looking utterly content with no trace of misery.

Elizabeth Afton must have been a happy child.

What happened to her, was she alive or dead?

Springtrap wanted to know, but he equally dreaded the answer, especially if it was the latter.

He felt the weight of a thousand responabilites fall upon him, the safety of the children and that of Tommy's, followed by the need to get out of this wretched place and finally to uncover the mysteries of the connection between Vincent Afton and the Nightmares.

He felt that he owed it to Goldie and the others, for their sake he would cut through this ensnaring web and uncover its enticing heart.

He would find answers.

"I don't want to harm him."

Springtrap slowly turned, his grey greenish eyes finding the owner of the voice to be Gabriel, the boy looked resolute, but in his eyes, there lay a stirring desire for revenge.

"I know that Tommy is innocent, he isn't Vincent."

His eyes then darted to the side briefly and he whispered quietly.

"At least, he doesn't seem to be tainted by the same evil, excluding whatever state he was in when he was welcoming you to your own enteral grave."

Those words immediately sent Springtrap's mind racing back to that moment when Tommy seemed to become possessed by something, there was a cruel expression in his eyes, a twisted delight, and a cold undertone.

"Welcome to my world SpringBonnie."

"Your enteral grave lies here, let me lead you into it."

What was that, obviously Tommy held some inner darkness, but for it to manifest in such a manner. . .

It was mind bending and yet it was stuck Springtrap as odd that none of the other children suffered from the same affliction, given the hell that they had endured over the years.

It was amazing, if not miraculous that they had held themselves together for so long.

"I know Gabriel, Tommy isn't Vincent, I was hoping, mentally begging that you wouldn't see him in the same light, although he clearly some internal issues to say the least," Springtrap remarked, he sounded relived, but Gabriel's next words completely threw him off balance.

"That doesn't mean I won't spare him the truth, well parts of it, it is very tempting to name Vincent as our murderer, you cannot keep him in the dark forever Springtrap and besides, haven't we all been through enough trauma, what would one more reveal do?"

Springtrap's eyes instantly widen, filled with a great sense of fear, a pale contrast to Gabriel's firm expression.

"You can't do that," Springtrap protested quietly.

"It would destroy him; he holds his father in such high esteem and it is the only good thing that he has to hold onto."

He sighed, recollecting his thoughts, before rephrasing his thoughts.

"Look, you can tell him about Vincent, as the shadowy 'Purple Guy', explain how much horror you have all suffered at the hands of that monster, but don't link the two together."

"Why do you care about him so much SpringBonnie?" another voice asked, resulting in Springtrap turning round to see that it was Cassidy who had spoken, she held an inquisitive cold gaze, one that was shared by Sammy, Susie and notably Charlie.

There was a feeling of potential betrayal in the air, they all felt that Springtrap was overlooking their pain in favour of Tommy's the son of their murderer.

"Did he not tell you himself that he cannot leave this place, even if he wanted to?" Cassidy questioned and she held up the bombardment of questions.

"That we should also leave, because the Nightmares would find us and according to that nightmare version of Fredbear, he cannot be saved in the way that you think?"

Each question served to bombard Springtrap's mind, demanding answers that he couldn't quite deliver on, although he had his suspicions as to what they were and he tried to deliver on them, speaking in a low tone, but with a great deal of passion and firmness.

"I care about him, because he did nothing to deserve his tragic fate, like you all did, he is an innocent, and I would even argue that he is in a worse state that you all are,"

That comment alone gave rise a look of immense opposition from the children, but Springtrap continued unabated regardless, determined to make his point known seeing how they had asked in the first place.

"Think about it, even though you all went through hell, you had the Fazbears; Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy, Fredbear, Puppet, Toy Freddy, Toy Bonnie, Toy Chica, Mangle and Balloon Boy, you got to know them and, in a sense, have someone else to relate to, communicate with, they weren't your families, but they were someone else who was in the end willing to accommodate and understand you. . .I am on the right page aren't I?"

Genuinely he didn't know the full story of the children's history with the Fazbears, but Springtrap was willing to bet that it had been a rocky start followed by something of a mutual understanding.

"Tommy doesn't have anything like, heck you've seen it, the boy lives in constant fear of his captors, he is terrified enough that he won't even tell us what is really going on here; he is that scared, and I have to ask if any of you were that scared back when you were alone, lost, isolated, trapped within the Fazbears, not knowing if you would ever see your families again or get proper justice for what Vincent did to you all, don't tell me that you weren't," Springtrap stressed, his eyes were ablaze with resolute, but with a true desire to resolve things peacefully.

"He has nothing, truly nothing and I would simply like to help him and gain answers for Goldie and the others; there is clearly going on here with Vincent and the Nightmares."

He gestured towards the family picture of the Afton family that he still held in one hand.

"We've already uncovered one mystery here, we have a golden opportunity to get some real answers for once and through it we can take your murderer down once and for all," he said determinedly.

"And Tommy knows things, we just need to coax them out of him first, in a way I think that our paths are connected, the answers we gain here can help both of us, I could save all of you, it's an opportunity worth taking despite the risk."

"Not that I intend to stay in this hellish place any longer than we have to."

There was a sign from Cassidy, she shrugged, dropping her arms to her side, she now looked weary, but there remained a look of annoyance in her eyes, it was an expression shared by the other children.

"Fair enough SpringBonnie," she said, in a resigned tone that held flickers of anger.

"I cannot deny your passion to do the right thing, we'll tell him about what happened to us, I just won't mention anything to do with Vincent. . .for his sake, but in the end, he may find out anyway somehow. . ."

Springtrap reached out and softly ruffled Cassidy's hair, looking from one child to the next as he spoke reassuringly.

"Thank you, this is the right thing to do, I know that you've all been seeking revenge, but taking it out on Tommy isn't the way and I didn't want you to repeat your mistakes with the former nightguards. . ."

There was a briefly look of shame that crossed Cassidy's eyes before it vanished behind a barrier of contemplation, the comprise hadn't been easy to reach and it didn't sit well with her, but she would accept it.

Springtrap's hand left her head and he smiled at the children who surrounded him.

"We will get out of here, I promise."

"Don't make promises, if you know that you can't keep them," Susie warned, harbouring a firm look in her eyes, but she dropped it when Springtrap replied back with a determined gaze of his own, he would keep his promises no matter what.

He eventually looked away. momentarily gazing across at the array of pictures that decorated the bedroom walls.

One immediate caught his eye, looking past the drawing of Funtime Foxy, Springtrap saw a drawing of what could only be described as an endo spaghetti man, a very tall one. The man or rather male figure was a combination of various wires and parts, roughly fitted together to form a humanoid shape of sorts, yet the irregularities stood out as clear as day. The chest had the appearance of it being forced into place, with it jutting out of the body and the legs were a mere tangle of wires wrapped around two bare endo legs that held the animatronic upright. Its hands consisted of three fingers each with even more wires wrapped around its arms. It's hips looked odd and like the chest area they appeared to be sticking out, but the mid section just below the chest was a grabbled mesh of wires and parts forced together to give it a physical enough structure so it could hold the rest of the body upright.

Yet, in the end it was the face that held Springtrap's attention, it looked like a white face mask and unlike the others it didn't have any hair; but it also looked so human, with the figure's blue eyes and their red nose standing out the most, not to mention the green and yellow party hat that was attached to the top of their head.

Underneath the drawing was its name:

Ennard. . .

Compared to the other Funtimes, Ennard seemed to be the odd one out, lacking any noted function, whereas the others were clearly designed to be entertainers. Ennard's design looked like one out of a horror show, a tangle of wires and endo parts stitched together to form a physical jumble.

"I wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of him, the guy looks gentle mannered, but with that height and chaotic build he could inflict some serious damage," Springtrap thought and another question came to him, making he look back at all the Funtime drawings.

"Did Vincent ever make the Funtimes a reality?"

His eyes found the beautiful green eyes of Circus Baby, even though it was just a drawing the eyes of the animatronics seem to glow.

"And if he did, did he design them as Elizabeth intended, or did he twist them for more sinister purposes?" he mentally asked himself, but truth be said, he didn't actually want to know and he knew that Tommy couldn't answer that question, but he needed answers, they couldn't linger here for long.

Springtrap sighed, he was starting to feel exhausted, but he mentally focused on the task at hand.

"Tommy, I know that you aren't willing to share information about what is really going on here, but I know that you want to save Fredbear and the others, we need your help," Springtrap said passionately, but with an undertone of determination.

He would get his answers, turning round to face the boy with a grim expression.

"We can save everyone, but only if you can te-"

His green greyish eyes widen in shock and he monetarily gasped.

Tommy wasn't sitting by the bed anymore, in fact he was standing up and was only a few steps away from the group, but that wasn't what caught Springtrap's attention.

It was the boy's eyes, they were a bright red, glowing like diamonds and he held a curious, if not mischievous expression.

The other children swiftly followed Springtrap's gaze and they also gasped in shock, with the closest stepping away out of fear of the look that Tommy projected.

"What's wrong, why are you scared of me, there are six of you and only one of me?" Tommy asked, his tone was curious, but it also held an innocent edge to it.

Recovering from his initial shock, Springtrap's eyes narrowed in suspicion and he reached out, grabbing the shoulders of Gabriel and Cassidy, pulling them both back towards him, further away from 'Tommy'.

"Who or what are you?" Springtrap demanded, he wasn't gonna to play nice with this version of Tommy, its words from earlier only highlighted its sinister nature.

"Welcome to my world SpringBonnie."

"Your enteral grave lies here, let me lead you into it."

"My name is Thomas Afton," Tommy replied casually and he cocked his head to one side, examining the group, like he was intrigued by them.

"Well, I am not the Thomas Afton that you know and I understand that you don't like me, but I don't like you, you are intruders."

"Despite being very hesitant Tommy has accepted us, he prefers having us around then his Nightmares, or whoever are," Springtrap remarked calmly, but his eyes gave off an unrelenting vibe, he wouldn't allow this 'thing' to run rings around him with mere word play.

Tommy mere shrugged dismissively, before replying.

"I am merely defending myself, my home and my friends, although they are quite capable of defending themselves."

His eyes beamed with a knowing expression.

"Your Tommy doesn't let to talk, but I do, about many interesting things."

"Like what?" Charlie demanded, he sounded tough, but one could detect the nervousness in his voice and his eyes.

Tommy smiled; it was genuinely unnerving.

"Well, for starters, I know that my father murdered you all and that he is 'Purple Guy'."

That brought an even more shocked reaction to everyone's faces, but Springtrap restrained his expression, outwardly he looked serious, but collected.

"How do you know about that exactly?" he asked cautiously, his eyes bore down at the child, the one he had sworn to help and now gave off a threatening vibe, like a coiled snake ready to pounce.

"I listen, I watch and I am told about such things," Tommy remarked calmly, his eyes locked with Springtrap's, they were cold and patient.

"I know that you won't tell your 'Tommy' though, to keep him safe from the truth, but I am fine with it, although I am surpised that my dad chose such a drastic route to try and free me."

He shrugged again, this time nonchalantly.

"Love. . .clearly, it can make you do crazy things."

"I know that you want answers, why else would you stay here, despite the horrors of this place, but you must be desperate."

He looked past Springtrap, now gazing at the wall of Funtime drawings.

"You like my sister's drawings, Elizabeth was always good at art, it was her main talent, besides singing."

His eyes narrowed and he muttered.

"Pity, it was her own only area of focus, she meant well, but. . ."

His voice trailed off, discarding whatever thoughts were running through his head.

"Anyhow, memory time is over," he remarked coldly, shifting his gaze back onto Springtrap.

"I suppose you want to know about the Nightmares' connection to Vincent, isn't that why you are all here?"

His bright red eyes moved over to the Afton family portrait.

"Although, by the looks of it, you have already uncovered one part of the mystery."

"Shocking isn't it, to know that he didn't do it all out of a sheer cruel bloodlust, unlike you lot."

"How do you know about us?" Gabriel demanded, he stepped forward, directly staring at Tommy with a stalwart expression, but his hands were trembling, betraying his fear.

Tommy easily picked up on his inner mood and stepped closer, his eyes burned into Gabriel's with a questioning demeanour, as he spoke clearly.

"I have been told about you lot, by the Nightmares, they tell me things, but not Tommy obviously, he doesn't need to know and I doubt that you want to confess your dark deeds to him, everybody likes to have secrets."

"So, Gabriel, what do you want to know first, maybe on how you are going to die."

Instantly, Springtrap grabbed Gabriel by the shoulder and pulled him back, well out of Tommy's reach.

"If you are going to threaten anyone here, it should be me, not them," Springtrap said firmly, stepping forward so that he was between Tommy and the other children.

"Granted, I just volunteered to be viciously mauled to death, but it is worth the risk and if he tires to do anything nasty, then I'll stop him dead," he mentally commented.

Although, he didn't know what this other version of Tommy was truly capable of and it worried him, but Springtrap kept his worries hidden from view.

"I am not going to harm you," Tommy remarked, now speaking nonchalantly.

"I was only going to describe how you are all going to die, it doesn't mean that I'll be the one who delivers the killing blow."

"Can you really die here in Limbo; besides we are already dead," Springtrap asked dismissively.

"Would you really like to find out?" Tommy inquired curiously, his tone was playful, but there was a menacing look in his eyes, which put everyone further at ease.

"Besides, I may not have enough time to reveal things if I wanted to, my brethren and this house will deal with your intrusion soon enough."

"Your brethren?" Sammy asked, clearly confused.

"Wait, you are a Nightmare?" Susie remarked, looking rather dumbfounded by the idea.

"You look nothing like them."

Tommy's red eyes glowed with amusement and he smiled.

"True, I hold no resemblance to the others, but appearances can be deceiving."

He then lightly gripped both sides of his head.

"Granted, I have to share this body with my other self, but he rarely bothers me when I'm in control, I can feel him kicking, screaming, trying to kick me out, but I am not going to let that happen."

"He's had his turn, now it's mine."

"Whilst I have no claws, no sharp teeth, or monstrous appearance, I am like the Nightmares in other ways."

"You've basically identified with your captors," Springtrap assumedly, he was certain that he was on the right track.

Tommy gave him a small nod, before replying back with.

"You're not entirely wrong, they aren't my jailers, I don't see them in that light and nor do they treat me as a prisoner, unlike Tommy."

"I wonder if self-loathing is a driving force behind this 'evil' version of Tommy, if he hates himself for being weak, then obviously he wants nothing to do with his other half, despite identifying as Thomas Afton," Springtrap thought, trying to understand the other Tommy's mindset.

"You are Tommy though, apart from your eyes is no change in your appearance, what is to stop the Nightmares in their bloodlust from killing you if they were to find us?" Charlie asked, his tone was serious and, his question had been on Springtrap's mind.

"We know that they've tortured Tommy, hounded him, you could easily be mistaken for him," Cassidy added, staring intensity at Tommy with a look of mistrust.

Tommy smiled, it was devious and his eyes held a knowing expression.

"Because they know that I am not an intruder, I am not trying to look into things which should be left undisturbed, but you all are."

"When they find you and they will, they'll tear you apart limb from limb, coating themselves in your blood and when the carnage is over, I'll step over your torn, mutilated bodies and watch as you are all brought back to life, ready to relive the horror."

"In here, in this place, you will not be saved by death, I can promise you that much."

"They'll recognise me, they know me and thus won't harm me, they see me as one of their own, I'll survive, unlike you."

He stepped closer, now standing directly before Springtrap and looking up at him with eyes that seemed to be both enchanting and calculating.

"You know that some secrets are best left buried."

He smiled, it was menacing and barely hid a sadistic desire to inflict agony a thousand-fold.

"And those who try to investigate such secrets when they really shouldn't, are buried along with them. . ."

A short while earlier. . .

Darkness cloaked the entire hallway, but it didn't hide the soft pitter patter of footsteps as a small figure advanced through the black, with their grey eyes glowing through the surrounding gloom.

The air was stale and cold as it always was in this decayed tomb of a house, but Plushtrap was on the trail, he could smell the lingering of his prey, he knew that they had passed through here and it was steadily getting stronger. The darkness hid him well, not that were any dangers lurking around, in here he was the main predator and things would remain that way.

His clawed hand traced the faded wallpaper, as he continually smelt the air, he could sense a variety of different smells, but above all he could pick out Tommy's signature trait the most, he was the easiest to follow. What he could sense was their spiritual aura, everyone had one when in Limbo and when someone from outside entered the house, it would act as a beacon of sorts, rippling outwards and alerting the house's inhabitants. Yet because the intruder was an unknown, they weren't so easily to track always, compared to the aura of someone else. . .like Tommy who was a natural resident of this house.

No matter where he went, Plushtrap and the other Nightmares would be able to find him.

"It was never wise to try and take him from us Springtrap, but you didn't fully understand the dangers of the world that you have stepped in," Plushtrap remarked coldly, swiftly moving forward.

He needed to cover ground quickly, Tommy was important for their survival, but Plushtrap already knew that whatever Springtrap intended to do, 'Tommy' would be a hinderance.

It was guaranteed. . .

Seeing that there was a corridor junction just up ahead, Plushtrap merely followed his senses and turned left, tracking Tommy's spiritual aura. Even without his eyesight which allowed him to overrule the darkness that cloaked this place, his spiritual senses would guide him. An outsider would easily become lost in this labyrinth of seemingly endless corridors and rooms, everything looked the same.

Not to him though, there were small minor differences that set each area apart from one another, one section could be more decayed and rundown than others and certain rooms of importance were located in particular sections and that was how a Nightmare worked out where they were and Plushtrap was one of the most experienced in knowing exactly where he was and where he was going.

"They went this way, looking for an exit no doubt, but given how this house likes to shift, expand, shirk and change, as well as not knowing the differences between each part, they most likely got turned around several times," Plushtrap mentally muttered to himself, striding forward.

Granted, the house had not undergone a shift recently, but given that there were intruders present, it may very well do so. None of the rooms disappeared mind you, the house still retained them, but it just moved things around or hid them from plain sight, or it would compress itself, becoming small or expand to give one the impression that it was larger than it usually was.

It challenged one's perception of what was real and it took the nightmares themselves a good long while to fully understand the nature of their new home, among them Plushtrap was the first.

"You can run, but you cannot hide from us, not for long," Plushtrap whispered, it was not a mere statement of confidence, but one of fact.

This house disliked outsiders, it would only tolerant their presence for so long, before betraying them. The same thing had happened with those five kids that Nightmare had brought lured in back in the mid-1980s, they had tried to hide, but the house soon revealed them to the Nightmares.

Obviously, there were only five hosts to go around, but the intention was to go and lure in more unsuspecting people so everyone had the chance to be not only free of the house, but to go and put the final stage of their grand plan into action.

And then the Mindflayer arrived. . .hot on Nightmare's trail and it sought the children, especially the 'girl', it desired her deeply and would do anything to get her.

Plushtrap remembered hearing the house scream, physically groaning in agony as it was bent, compressed and stretched by the Mindflayer forcing its influence onto it; and as it pulled itself through, opening up a gateway to its native domain, a cold shadowy plane of existence dubbed by the children as 'The Upside Down'.

Everything soon descended into chaos as a titanic struggle erupted between the Mindflayer, it's minions and the Nightmares over the children.

How it not been for that outside interference, the Nightmares could have achieved their dream early and escaped their restrained reality.

Yet, there were always second chances and regarding this new group of intruders there were no hope of outside interference, they were completely on their own.

Well, that was technically a lie as there was another group of children making their own way through the house right now, trying to find their comrades, no doubt sensing their distress.

They were being drawn straight into a trap, regardless of whether they actually knew it.

"Those other children will just add more fun to the party," Plushtrap muttered gleefully as he swiftly moved forward, once again the surrounding darkness didn't impede his progress.

"I will find you. . ."

He reached into his left trouser pocket for his trusty knife, gripping its smooth handle, reassured by its presence.

If his sharp claws or flesh ripping teeth weren't enough, then his knife should more than adequately finish the job and he would find his prey before Nightmare Balloon Boy did.

He regarded his 'companion' as more of an annoyance than as an actual companion, constantly riding on his coattails, as well as fighting with Plushtrap over who got to occupy the chair in their shared room.

Plus, given how Nightmare Balloon Boy was 'born' alongside that of Nightmarione and Nightmare Mangle, Plushtrap didn't fully count them as 'official' Nightmares, although his views were in the minority among the original group who had been with Tommy since the start.

Since the moment he fell unconscious following the fatal bite he received from Fredbear.

"No doubt that N-BB has only covered the half the ground already that I have," Plushtrap whispered confidently to himself, tracing the aged wallpaper with his claws.

"He talks big, but he can never deliver on his words, I am still the superior tracker between the two of us."

As he moved further down the hallway, his eyes widen in realisation, the spiritual scent of Thomas Afton was getting stronger.

He was getting close, whether they were still running or had stopped, but he was clearly catching up.

With his discovery empowering him, Plushtrap strived forward, his quick walk turning into a run as he charged down the seemingly desolate hallway, the cold air hardly bothered him.

Yet, whist in motion, he didn't create any major noise. It was a trait of his that he could greatly reduce the sound he made when moving as so to throw his enemy into confusion before getting close enough to fatally jump them.

Nightmare Balloon Boy deployed a similar trick, but he would throw his voice around, making his opponent or target think that he was approaching from another direction, before getting the jump on them and it was an effective skill, Plushtrap had to begrudgingly admit, but it was perhaps his only talent.

"He can sure mislead almost anyone with his 'gift', but I mostly consider it to be an unfair advantage, just because his inspiration uses the same tactic for more playful intentions, whereas my inspiration was a simple stuffed plush toy of SpringBonnie," Plushtrap remarked in a thinly veiled irritated tone.

"Regardless, I should be much closer to Springtrap and Tommy than N-BB is, knowing him he'll struggle to have followed their scent sufficiently enough, given that he gets easily distracted, I however am not so easily diverted from my goals."

"A fitting statement, but the task still remains undone. . ."

Suddenly, Plushtrap skidded to an abrupt halt, instinctively stopping because of the voice. It was only then that he registered that the entire hallway before him had vanished from his sight.

It was a darkness that his eyes could not penetrate, an unusual development and a worrying one, for he could always see through the darkness that cloaked the house's interior.

"And you were blind to my presence until I spoke, are you becoming overconfident in your senses Plushtrap?" the voice asked, its tone was domineering, but also causal with a mocking undertone, on one level it was akin to a child tormenting another.

Yet Plushtrap recognised the voice's owner.

"Nightmare. . ." he said astonishingly, his grey eyes widen as he suddenly realised the cause for the entire hallway going dark.

It wasn't that it had gone dark, like a veil of blackness had been drawn over it, but that someone else was occupying the whole space, completely filling it. In addition, he only now noticed that the air has become colder, chilly even.

How he had not noticed the intense darkness prior caused him to mentally stumble, had Nightmare always been there and was just waiting for him or had the Nightmare teleported?

He didn't know and there wasn't much point in asking.

Suddenly, a bright pair of eyes appeared out of the darkness before Plushtrap, the eyes were a pure scarlet red, glowing like diamonds borne down on the small Nightmare, completely illuminating him.

Under the intense red light his form was exposed to the naked eye, green yellowy trousers and shirt with a faded brownish wait coat and blackish boots. His hair was a distant yellowish green, as were his two tattered bunny ears.

"Well, I am waiting for an answer," Nightmare demanded, he sounded playfully, but Plushtrap could detect a stern undertone in his words.

Lying wasn't really an option, the Nightmare would easily deduce a lie and expose Plushtrap for trying to take him for a fool.

Nightmare simply wanted honesty, regardless of how hard discomforting it would be for Plushtrap to admit that his senses were only as good as his attention to them.

After all, he had chastised Nightmare Balloon Boy for the same mistakes, he'd be an outright hypocrite to not follow his advice.

Plushtrap responded, speaking plainly.

"I was too focused on locating Springtrap and Tommy, and my own internal thoughts to notice you, but. . ."

Then his voice changed to become insistence, as his grey eyes narrowed.

"Isn't that what you wanted though and by talking to you, I am wasting valuable time that is better spent tracking down Tommy and his 'kidnappers'?"

"Also, I thought that you wouldn't be joining us so soon in the hunt," he answered, giving Nightmare a questioning look.

"I wanted to partake in the hunt a little and so I thought to join you, instead of Nightmare Balloon Boy," Nightmare replied amusingly, finding Plushtrap's words to be somewhat humorous. Despite the bright red glow of his eyes, his expression remained hidden, only his tone gave Plushtrap a real insight into his thoughts.

"Besides," Nightmare began, now sounding observant.

"I can sense their presence, especially Tommy's, we are very close and Nightmare Fredbear and Nightmarionne have joined the fun as well, they'll soon be surrounded."

He then stepped aside, evident by the darkness moving to one side like a great mass and once done Plushtrap could see the rest of the hallway clearly.

"Come along, as you say Plushtrap, we best not waste any more time."

Then the mass of darkness moved further down the hallway; Plushtrap's eyes was good enough that he could distinguish between the actual darkness of the hallway and the black mass of moving darkness that was Nightmare.

"Aren't you coming, Nightmare Balloon Boy just might beat you if you don't hurry and you know that he will boost about it to you forever."

Plushtrap accepted, there was no point in arguing against the elder Nightmare, besides he wanted to get back to the hunt and the fun that accompanied it. He moved swiftly, quickly falling in behind Nightmare, the closer he got, the colder the air became, not that it bothered him too much.

"I suspect that you already have a plan for dealing with Springtrap and those children?" Plushtrap casually.

"That I do, one that Nightmare Fredbear and Nightmarionne readily agreed to, great minds think alike," Nightmare remarked confidently.

"Yet, knowing you Plushtrap, given the similarities between these group of children and the last one, you can probably already guess as to what it involves."

"In fact, does this remind you of anything?"

Suddenly, something was thrown at Plushtrap, but he quickly caught it with his claws.

It was soft and light, it was a plushie of Foxy, Tommy's to be exact. Immediately memories burst into his mind's eye and his role in what was to unfold became abundantly clear.

"I can, very much so now with this little pirate devil," Plushtrap remarked casually, he now moved fast enough to stride alongside Nightmare, being on the elder Nightmare's left.

Even then, despite being so close, he could not see Nightmare' a form beneath the cloak of molten blackness that hid him from view.

The Nightmare's red scarlet eyes lit up the hallway, making it much clear to see and it joined with the bright glow of Plushtrap's grey eyes, as the two moved towards their objective, the spiritual scent was strong in the air and its presence increased with each passing step.

"Whatever happened to the girl Nightmare, the one who could move objects with her mind, but made her bleed from the nose?"

"She escaped, through the portal, given the circumstances there was no point in pursuing her."

He emitted what amounted to both a sigh and growl, before resuming.

"She would have been a fine vessel; her mind-bending power nearly got the best of me."

"Eleven was an exceptional child, although I couldn't say the same of her companions," Plushtrap remarked dismissively, resulting in a chuckle of agreement from Nightmare.

"They were quite pathetic, weren't they?" he asked reflectively and Plushtrap immediately nodded.
"So full of fear and easy to scare, let alone beat into submission," he muttered, reviling in the memory and letting his sadism show.

"It's a shame about the Mindflayer turning up though and yet Nightmarionne complains about it the most and she wasn't even present at the time."

Nightmare groaned, emitting another growl of distain.

"True and I have pointed that out to her recently, but she still finds the means to criticise me for a simple mistake," he said impatiently.

"Why does she need to complain?" Plushtrap asked in an annoyed tone.

"Firstly, she wasn't there and second we have another chance right now to get new vessels and with no chance of outside interfere."

"Even that other group of children is heading into our trap, so they won't be a concern."

"I agree, but you know Nightmarionne, she still believes that she could have done better than us by charming the Mindflayer, let alone the children," Nightmare answered disdainfully, his scarlet red eyes never looked at anything save for the darkness that lay directly ahead of him.

"She couldn't do that with the clown demon, although she did try her hardest," Plushtrap added reflectively, as memories of the whole chaotic experience came racing back.

It was the clown monster's voice that he remembered the most, mocking him relentlessly.

"My my, aren't you a delicious treat, you are scared yes, I can feel it, you don't want to die, but you will as will the boy that you protect."

A harsh female voice echoed about in his mind, as vivid images of the female clown monster with blood stained fangs looming over him appeared in his mind's eye.

"I like a good fight, a worthy struggle, good, it'll make your flesh and soul all the tastier."

"A fitting starter, before the main course!"

Plushtrap physically shook himself to make the memories disperse, he turned to Nightmare and asked in a curious tone

"What happened to her, after she was defeated?"

There was a long silence from Nightmare, a pause that seemed unnatural for him, but Plushtrap guessed that he too was mentally reliving the whole ordeal and for good reasons.

Yet, he finally answered in a stern tone.

"I do not know Plushtrap, none of us do, once we had fought her off, she merely sulked back into the shadows of the sewer, you saw what I saw, she fled, wounded and bleeding, probably to feast on easier prey."

He chuckled, but it was dark and foreboding.

"She told me how it was a mistake to fall into her trap, but in reality, it was her who made the mistake by trying to devour us, she isn't the only monster out there."

Plushtrap felt Nightmare's eyes fall on him and he turned to see that he was indeed looking at him.

Nightmare's expression was serious and cold.

"I am not afraid of monsters, it is they who should be afraid of me, of us."

Plushtrap only nodded, knowing the sentiment that lay behind those words.

Nightmare then returned to facing his front, moving swiftly and Plushtrap continued to follow, plunging ever further down the decayed hallway.

"What became of our unwanted guests and allies, like Bendy and Alice Angel, I do not know and nor do I particularly care, whether either Bendy or Alice survive their pretty war for dominance in that rotting dump of a cartoon studios."

"But didn't you release Bendy from his holdings in the Ink Machine?" Plushtrap asked, recalling bits and pieces of what took place in the late 1980s.

"Yes," Nightmare replied assuredly.

"In exchange for his support, but I played both him and Alice against eachother for our benefit, be it with great risks involved."

"In the end, such risks have benefited us greatly, especially regarding our alliance with Vincent and now we are closer to achieving our goals, all of them."

Plushtrap only nodded in confirmation of Nightmare's words, but he knew the full meaning behind the Nightmare's words.

Then out of the gloom before him there appeared a door and shortly afterwards more doors appeared further along each side. Yet it was the first door that stood out as it was decorated in yellow stars against its faded white frame and there appeared to be a name tag on the door's frame, but it was far too worn with age to be readable.

Immediately both Nightmares stopped, the spiritual scent of Tommy and Springtrap, alongside that of the other children had risen to a fever pitch. There could be no doubt, they were behind this door.

They had found their hiding spot.

Instantly, Plushtrap felt a clawed hand lightly grip his head and Nightmare's words now appeared in his mind, echoing about.

"So, they are in Elizabeth's room, they should have chosen a more discreet location," he commented observantly, as his mind melded with Plushtrap's.

"Most likely they don't know that we are here, best we keep it that way."

"Obviously," Plushtrap remarked mentally, agreeing with Nightmare's intention.

"Otherwise, there is no fun in getting the jump on them."

He looked down at the Foxy plushie that he held, feeling its soft, but tattered fur against his sharp claws.

"I know what I need to do and this plushie will be very handy in making it happen."

"I know you too well Plushtrap, as I do with the others," Nightmare mentally muttered with an eager tone and his eyes narrowed as he stared at the door to Elizabeth's door.

"Now, we must part ways, for the roles that we are to play. . ."

"Of course," Plushtrap commented observantly.

"Your part is unforgettable."

"What of the others though?"

Nightmare shrugged, before adding.

"They already know their roles and very soon they'll be in their proper places."

Then Nightmare removed his claw from Plushtrap's head, severing their mental link.

"Enjoy yourself Plushtrap, you've been left out for far too long," Nightmare whispered, his voice was smooth, but it dripped with sadistic intentions.

"Glad that someone finally voices it," Plushtrap replied determinedly, he had been left out of the major events going on and he wanted to put his mark on things.

This was his chance to show just how much of a nightmare he really was.

After all, terrible things come in small packages. . .

"Have fun Plushtrap," Nightmare muttered, his voice was filled with great anticipation.

The surrounding cold air suddenly seemed to vanish and Plushtrap looked to his right, Nightmare had vanished, as he was accustomed to do, where to Plushtrap didn't know and didn't care.

"Have fun, I most certainly will," Plushtrap whispered to himself, clutching the Foxy plushie tightly as he moved over the faded carpet, making no sound as he approached the door.

Like a shadow he crept forward, like an unseen ghost barring down its unsuspecting prey.

"Hide and seek is now over, but let's play another game, shall we?" he muttered, his grey eyes burned with excitement.

"It'll be fun. . ."

And so, in utter silence, he kept on creeping, ever forward.

Creeping, towards the door. . .

If you recognised who the new additions are, I have been intending to include them for a while, their section was my favoutive part to write.

Poor Jeremy, stretching out the ever evolving timeline of the horrors of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria is a never ending struggle.

Finally, Plushtrap has made his debut, it was alot of fun writting him in, given his capabilities, but small size I envisioned him to have a chip on his shoulder.

As for 'Evil Tommy', well, it has been hinted that he has a dark side, just like the Afton in canon, a dark streak runs through that family, be they born with it, or it is brought about by great trauma.

Thanks for reading and please review, I appreciate your thoughts.