Inside Out

Hurricane, Utah

Friday 2nd December 2016, 12:34 PM

Once they were ready, Mike had driven the both of them out to Hurricane. Once they arrived in town, they discussed their next steps.

"I should be on my lunch break around half twelve." Mike had explained, eerily calm about what was to come, "Meet me here then. I'll know by then if our plan will work tonight."

Though increasingly worried about allowing him to go alone, Sam reminded herself that he was handling his end. "As you wish. Keep your eyes open, alright?"

"You, too." He grinned before heading off to work.

In the time spent waiting for his break, Sam kept a low profile, wandering around town. As she waited, she tried to get into contact with Tyler and Spencer. When neither answered, her concern only grew.

Phone service isn't great around here, she reminded herself. Yet it did not still the gnawing doubt in her chest.

Finally, after making her way back to the diner they stopped at and waiting, Mike emerged through the doors. She immediately found herself perking up, but forced herself to remain still and wait for him to sit down at her booth.

As he made his way towards her, Mike stopped and had a chat with a couple of the workers. Blinking, she felt that familiar sense of confusion. For all the time she knew Mike, all the things Tom had told her about him, the one thing she never took him as was a social bunny.

Once he finished talking to them and bid his farewells, Mike went over smiling and sat down at the same booth. Opening her newspaper which she'd bought from a salesman half an hour earlier, she pretended to read it.

"How's everything gone?" She spoke quietly, wary of eavesdroppers.

"It's fine." Mike leaned forward, shrugging, "I reckon that tonight's no worse a night to do this."

Acknowledging that, Sam felt a mix of relief and fear. However, she noticed something about him that made her speak. "Are you feeling alright? I think you might be sick."

"I'm fine." Mike smiled, "Just the weather."

"You're looking pale, I have to say. Have you been taking your meds?"

"I'm fine, really."

Unconvinced, Sam made the decision to change the subject. "So, when are we doing this?"

"I think that about half an hour before the office closes. I'll still have access, but security will be light. You've got that keycard I gave you, right?"

"I do." Sam nodded. How Mike had gotten his hands on the ID card was something he'd declined to elaborate. It belonged to some young man, by the picture. At the very least, it suited her purposes.

"I'll give you a call on the burner phone before then." Taking a few glances around, possibly to ensure they weren't being listened in on, Mike continued confidently, "Follow my instructions; that way, we'll get you in the offices alongside me. From there, we'll see what we can find."

So she waited a little longer. Once the sun had descended over the horizon and commuters began to make their way home, she waited around the alleyway Mike had described. Shivering as the winter cold weighed down on her, she remained resolute.

Finally, just as she believed the call would never come, her phone started ringing. Sighing in relief, Sam answered the call.

"You there?" She asked, hushed.

"I'm ready. Cameras are on a feedback loop, courtesy of your man Carl's device. Make your way to the door."

With the call still going, Sam quietly made her way to the back entrance. Once there, she rested against the wall nearby.

"I see you." Mike said, "Okay, hang on…Security Guard's patrolling that hallway…okay, you're clear."

Bracing herself, Sam used the ID card, almost seeing the moment something went wrong. Fortunately enough, it wasn't quite time yet. A green light momentarily beeped and the door clicked. Grasping the handle, she pulled it open and stepped inside of the building.

"Okay…" Mike nearly mumbled, "You're in the east wing. Staircase here's not any good. Too many eyes. There's a utility corridor just down the left, past the restrooms. Use it."

Wordlessly, Sam obeyed his instructions to the letter. Passing the restrooms, she saw the door right after and opened it. The corridor was dark, so much so that she had to use her phone's light to make her way through.

"Stop for a moment before you exit." Mike warned her, so she did so. "Just a second…yep, there we go. Go to your left, then right. Staircase is through the double doors."

Breathing steadily, Sam stepped into the open, feeling vulnerable. Spotting the lobby down the right hallway, she gritted her teeth and expected to hear a loud "Hey!" to come at any moment. When it didn't, she nodded to herself and found the double doors Mike mentioned.

Once through, she headed upwards three floors, then paused at the door. When no further instructions came, Sam began to grow concerned. "Mike?"

"Sorry." His voice came from the other end, "Had to get a janitor out of the way. Okay, there's a guard, Steve, across the other side of the walkway. He always uses the coffee machine around this time. Just wait a few moments…"

As the wait grew and grew, with Sam feeling her anxiety grow with it, she looked down the staircase. Watching in case anyone was about to appear and enter through the doors to find her crouched there.

"Move." Mike gave the order and she didn't wait for him to elaborate. Exiting out the door, she looked to her left and saw the guard, Steve, using the coffee machine. Swallowing her nerves, Sam glanced around for anyone else.

"Offices are down the walkway, adjacent to Steve. Go, quickly!"

Sam followed his orders, taking extra care not to make a single sound as she headed to the offices. When she saw the big sign saying North Wing Offices, she lacked hesitation and entered quickly. Then she shut the door with a steady hand and turned…

…nearly jumping out of her skin as she bumped into him.

"Quiet, quiet!" Mike spoke in a hushed voice.

Sam sucked in a breath and tried hard to compose herself. "Sorry."

"It's alright." He smiled reassuringly, "We just have to be careful here. Other than Steve, there's nobody else on the floor. Once we're in the main office area, it should be safe."

After offering that advice, Mike led her further through the offices towards the north end of the building. As they stepped into a hallway area, Sam felt a chill in the air when she recognised where they were. Forcing herself onwards, Sam gazed through the blinded window that she knew separated them from the meeting room.

From there, they entered a separate area with several doorways. Noting how this area seemed to be reserved for the elites of the company, Sam could tell they were nearly there. Once Mike shut the door behind them, he nodded, "We should be safe from here."

Sam acknowledged that and sagged. "I've been here before. Remember?"

Though Mike offered a distant agreeing nod to that, he didn't offer anything else.

"It was while you were at Fazbear Frights. Tom, Carl, and I came here to find answers. We found them, just…not in the way we expected."

"The massacre." Mike spoke grimly.

"Yep. Dutch Lawson killed all those executives…he excelled at pulling off those sorts of hits most would call impossible. After that night, we presumed that Fazbear Entertainment were done for. I suppose we were gravely mistaken."

"Company's bigger than you'd imagine." Mike shrugged, "There's offices all over the country, some abroad."

"It's just…" With a sigh, Sam knew what was causing her so much worry, "It feels like there's a massive lapse in security here. Don't you think so?"

"There's more precautions than you'd think." Mike explained, "Once the main staff are gone, it's just a skeleton crew manning the security. That's why I chose this time; it suits our needs."

"If you say so." Sam smiled, yet was not convinced.

"Come on." Mike offered her a hand into one of the offices, "We should start here."

They stepped inside the office, quite a large space with a great window at the side opening towards a small side street. Heading straight to the computer standing on the desk, Sam took out what tools she had to help her with gaining access.

When she saw that it was already on, she blinked in confusion. Her doubt still creeping up on her, she laid them aside and turned the screen on. As it did so, she saw that the computer was password locked.

Easy enough, she thought before using the tools Carl had designed for these situations and plugged it into the USB port. Not long afterwards, a password entered into the system and she gained access.

As she did this, Mike walked over to the window and glanced down towards the side street. He wandered around the room as she pressed through, guessing where to go as she searched for what they came here for.

Stepping towards the door, Mike looked through the glass window inbuilt in it. Looking for anyone coming through here, Sam guessed. With a shrug of his shoulders, Mike asked her without looking back at her, "What comes after this, then?"

Her typing never ceased as she raised her eyebrows, "Hmm?"

"Where do we go after this?" Straightening, Mike glanced over his shoulder, "Once we've got this information?"

"I…don't know." Sam answered doubtfully, "This was your investigation. What do you want to do with it?"

He gave a small snort. "I don't know at this point. I don't think I should've come back here. Over the last few days, I've been thinking to myself, why can't I put this away? All this stuff with Fazbear Entertainment and the past…I don't know. Sometimes it feels hard not to have doubts."

He turned to face her. "What about you? Do you think about putting this away?"

A month ago, I knew what my answer would be. Sam shook her head, "Mike…my husband died for all of this. I don't think I could. Not anymore."

Mike stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "I understand." Then he walked back over to the window, past her.

A strange feeling grew inside of her as she returned her attention to the computer. "Okay, here we go. I've got it. Project Rebirth. Huh. There's an admin permission here. Looks like…hang on."

That feeling doubled inside of her. "But…I don't…Mike, it says….this is your computer. What are we doing here if-"

She felt the material enclose over her head all of a sudden and she was wrenched back painfully. Her body attempted to scream in pain, but the material sucked up over her mouth, the plastic deeply muffling the sound.

She tried to breathe and found she couldn't.

Trying to pull away from what was holding the plastic over her, she felt the strong resistance holding her in place, preventing her from escaping. Then the voice, so soft it was nearly terrifying, whispered through the plastic right next to her ear.

"I'm sorry." He said to her, "This didn't need to happen. I hoped that you would choose to leave and put this behind you. It's better this way. The trail is there; they'll think it was just a break in. That you are a stalker. You broke in, ran into me, and I defended myself. I wish it was different…"

Pure instinct filled her, a desperate grasp for life, as she pulled again and again, but it wouldn't work. Twisting, she hit him with a hard punch and felt her knuckles and wrist snap at the impact. She uttered another muffled scream and felt her vision fading fast.

"It will only last a moment."

She reached for the inside of her jacket and dug for the knife; then, without a second thought, she thrust it between his shoulder and neck. His grip loosened for just a second and it was all she needed.

She dived away from him, pulling the plastic around her head off and darted to her feet. Looking back, she saw his hand reach for the knife she'd stabbed him with and pull it out.

"Mike…" She breathed in deeply, but she didn't know what to say.

"You're making this more difficult than it has to be." Was all that he offered as he held the knife in hand.

She was trapped; the only door was behind him. Her right hand was broken, she knew by the horrifying pain. There was only the window behind her.

She chose the window.

Without even a moment to think about it, she grabbed the office chair, screaming as her broken hand bent unwillingly, and tossed it with all her might at the window. Then, unable to check if it made a difference, ran for the window and jumped.

The glass broke, but was unforgiving. Unable to control her collision, she spun as gravity assisted her fall. As she fell from the third story window, Sam hit the fire escape on the other side of the street, delaying her fall, but not stopping it.

Finally she came to a crashing halt onto a dumpster, before rolling off of it and hitting the concrete ground.

All the while, Mike watched on, looking down on her broken form from the destroyed window.

New Harmony, Utah

Thursday 6th October 2016, 06:56 AM

However long the painful process had been to get Mike back to the elevator was something he was ignorant of. By the time he'd woken up, he was laying in the back of a motionless car as the morning sun hovered over him.

Finding it painful to move, he sat up and looked down to find his damaged hand bandaged up. He stared at it in confusion until he heard the two voices outside of the car.

Damn it, Mike cursed to himself as he finally understood. Before he could muster up a plan, the two men got into the car. The one in the driver's seat glanced back at him.

"Oh look, you're finally awake." He raised an eyebrow, "Okay, then we can get on with this. You've got your bearings? Understand what hole you're in? Good. Now, I haven't got a damned clue who you are or what you're doing. But if you're getting any silly ideas of doing a runner, don't. You've already got a bad hand. They won't say anything if you've got a broken leg on arrival, too. Got it?"

Staring at the man, Mike felt all the resistance spill from his body. He sagged and nodded.

"Good." The man looked to his fellow engineer who remained silent and shrugged, "Let's get you home first, then I'll take our prowler here where he needs to go."

As they left the facility and headed south, Mike remained silent in the back seat. All his energy was gone and he knew it; escaping was not an option. Within half an hour, they were pulling up to an apartment block on the border of Hurricane. Stepping out, the second man gave Mike a side eye before saying his farewells, then left.

Then they were back on the road and Mike still couldn't find the will to speak. Looking towards the rear view mirror, he saw that the engineer, whom he recognised to be the superior of the two, was older than he was. Yet, something about him told Mike that messing around would lead to a few broken bones.

"So I've been told to tell you a few things before I drop you off." The man broke the silence, "First things first, you tell them a story. Whatever it is, I don't care, but make it believable and for God's sake, do not mention anything about us when you do."

Blinking, Mike forced himself to speak. "So what am I supposed to say to the Police?"

"And what in the Holy Hell would you be talking to the Police for?"

"Well, that's where you're taking me, right?"

"If it was up to me? Yeah, you'd be in the back of a cop car right about now."

Mike paused. "Okay. So, where are you taking me?"

"Did you get a bump on the head, too?" The man asked dryly.

"Would you be surprised to hear me say yes?"

He sighed. "Typical. Well, Einstein, I don't know if you've picked up on the fact that you had a mechanical nail embedded in your Trapezoid bone and I'm an engineer, not a medic. It's the hospital you're going to."

"Okay." Mike accepted that, "Why? Why in the world would Fazbear Entertainment or Afton Robotics or whatever you call yourselves these days care this much about human life?"

"Because you've got a friend in a high place." The man explained bluntly, nearly sneering, "So much so that they told us to make sure you received medical attention. No idea why; not my pay grade."

Unable to figure it out at that moment, Mike fell back to silence for the rest of the trip. Not long after, they pulled into an emergency ward and Mike was practically kicked out.

"Like I said," The man warned before leaving him, "not a word about us." Then, he left.

Once he was inside, Mike had been half expecting to be in the hospital for at least a day. When he was out only half a day later, the only real injury he left with being a hurting financial situation, he could only count his blessings.

Not signs of a concussion, the doctor had told him, and the nail didn't penetrate the bone. Other than a cast, you seem good to go.

Once he was out, it was up to him to get back home. By the time he was back, it was all he could do to fall face down in bed and sleep the rest of the day. He awoke far past sunset and felt the familiar sting of hunger searing him.

Grumbling, he got the care he needed and sat down to watch another episode of his show. Mostly background noise more than anything, as his mind stayed glued to what was to come.

I have to call them, he realised. Yet when he got out his phone, he couldn't bring himself to call the number. To admit defeat and beg for their help. Even if it was to just make sure he got back to Switzerland safe and sound.

The idea that Fazbear Entertainment had known he was down there and what he was doing didn't come as a surprise. With how monitored it was down there, he was always going to attract attention. What sent a shiver down his spine was that they'd allowed it.

You got a friend in a high place. Who? Who in the world would've allowed him free reign, especially if they knew who he was?

Shaking his head as the episode ended, Mike went back to the box and retrieved the letter. He scanned it over and over again, trying to decipher anything that he'd missed from it.

No matter how he looked at it, he knew the reality; he wasn't done yet. No matter how much he wished to never enter that facility again. Even if he knew in his heart he'd find no friend down there.

This is your chance, the letter practically spelt out to him, don't blow it.

Like he was on automatic, Mike soon found himself back in the shadows of that facility. When he arrived, he spotted the car that wasn't his own parked up by the side. A chill entered his spine as he stared at it. Cursing, he went to the elevator.

It's not locked up, he realised. Hesitating, he considered his next move. Was there somebody already down there? Were they waiting for him?

Taking a deep breath, Mike stepped into the elevator and took one last look at the fog-covered night sky and at the moon. Then, the doors shut and the elevator descended.

After the usual prolonged time riding the elevator downwards, he sagged at the sound of his guide.

"Welcome back to your last day on the job." The voice said cheerfully, "That is, the last day of your first week. Some of the most valued qualities that we like to see in new employees are determination, fearlessness, and a genuine disregard for instinctive self-preservation."

Mike sighed at that. Can't say it's wrong. How could he justify coming back here, after what had happened the previous night?

"You've earned your one week bonus which will be given to you in the form of a delightful gift basket, the cost of which will be taken out of your next paycheck." It explained, leaving Mike only further bemused, "We have gift baskets containing fruit, nuts, flowers, and of course, the ever-popular cash basket. Using the keypad below, please enter the first few letters of the gift basket you would like to receive."

As every other time, Mike's hand unit—handed back to him by the two engineers who'd saved his life—lit up. He sniffed at it and attempted to insert the word cash into it, but not even one letter in, the screen flashed up in error.

Sounding nearly confused, as if Mike had just asked for something ludicrous, the voice said patiently, "It seems you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will autocorrect it for you. Thank you for selecting…Exotic Butters."

Perhaps were he not as tired as he was, Mike might've mustered up the energy to be disgusted at that. Eh, who knows, he thought, maybe some butters might be a boon.

"Please be aware that there are still two technicians on site today." It continued, almost ominously, "Try to avoid interfering with their work, if possible. Also, feel free to ask them why they are still there, and encourage them to go home."

That was what Mike was met with as the elevator descended. On one hand, he'd been given the guarantee that they were indeed still here. On the other hand…

Will they try to stop me, Mike considered, that is, if they're even still alive?

With that familiar jingle, the door snapped open and Mike grumbled as he got down. With how cramped his joints were after days of abuse, the crawl through the vent lasted a long time. Once he was finally out the other end, he got up steadily and looked around.

"Let's check on Ballora, and make sure she's on her stage." The voice asked of him. Frowning, Mike checked for any signs of life at that moment. When he didn't find any, he reached the light and clicked it.

The sight of a man's shadow sent a panicked shiver down his chest. All he could do was stare at the shadow as it dangled across the stage by the neck.

"Great. Now, let's check on Funtime Foxy."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mike unsteadily reached the other panel and pressed it. A similar sight met his gaze and he put a hand over his mouth as he crouched down.

"Great. It looks like everything is as it should be in Funtime Auditorium." Before, the voice's obliviousness had been nearly endearing. That was now as shattered as the vertebrae the two men were hanging off of.

Were they the two engineers from last night? Mike pondered darkly, trying to remember their faces. Not that it mattered; in the pitch blackness of the room, he would never be able to recognise them.

"Your task today will involve more maintenance work. Circus Baby had a rough day, and is in need of repair." The voice uttered his next order, cold and uncaring for the loss of life in front of Mike, "You will be required to reach the Parts & Service room by once again sneaking through Funtime Auditorium. As always, please proceed with caution."

With that, the vent snapped open between the control room and Funtime Auditorium. Staring down at it for a few moments, Mike had to recall how he'd not made it out in one piece the last time he'd made a back and forth trip.

One last chance to back out, Mike told himself. A distant feeling filled him, one of doom he'd not felt like it before. Shaking his head, he crouched down and entered the vent.

His journey across the floor of the Auditorium was dark and gritty, yet eerily silent. Going only a short distance at a time and listening out carefully, he waited for any sign of Funtime Foxy.

When that sign never came and he reached the door on the other side unmolested, he felt more paranoid than relieved. Nevertheless, he pressed onwards, entering the room once again.

"Great job reaching Parts & Service." The voice congratulated him, "Circus Baby has been deactivated for an unknown reason. It's your job to make sure she's structurally stable and secured to the conveyor. Our technicians will take it from ther-"

With a sudden jolt, the voice stopped. Pausing, Mike flicked on his flashlight and came face-to-face with Circus Baby for the first time. Staring hard at her unconscious form, Mike recalled how she had left him helpless inside of that suit, offering the bare minimum to keep him alive.

"Can you hear me?" She asked, both distantly and so close by, "I'm pretending. Remember how I said I could pretend? The cameras are watching. I must be careful not to move."

His frown deepening, Mike tried to find the source of the voice. When he couldn't see the source, he decided to remain vigilant, glancing around in the darkness.

"Something bad happened yesterday." She continued, her voice troubled deeply, "Something bad always happens. I don't want it to happen again. There is something bad... inside of me! I'm broken. I can't be fixed."

"Is that what you call it?" Mike mumbled under his breath.

"I'm going to be taken to the scooping room soon, but it's not going to fix what's wrong with me. What is bad is always left behind." Her voice turned from anguish to pleading like the drop of a hat, "Will you help me? I want you to save what is good, so the rest can be destroyed and never recovered."

Scoffing, Mike scowled at her. How could she expect him to help her, after everything she had done the previous night? Even if that was why he'd come back…

Her voice turned warning, "But you must be careful. Ballora is here. In the room, with us. Ballora will not return to her stage. Ballora will not return to her body. You must be careful. You must remain calm, and listen to my voice."

I can't trust her, Mike knew in his heart, any more than I could trust Ballora if she's really here too. I have to keep that in mind.

"There is a button on my cheek. You must find it and press it."

Keeping his eyes open for any sign of movement in the dark, Mike scanned the cheeks of the animatronic for that button and found it. With an outstretched hand, he pressed the button and the cheek snapped open, revealing a keypad.

"There is a passcode that you must enter before you can retrieve me." She continued to instruct and he followed it carefully, "Enter the code carefully. 1. 2. 1. 4. 7. 5. 8. 2. 3. 7. Good. A hatch should have opened. Take the card that you find inside."

He drew the flashlight over her body until he found the opened crevice in her left arm. Carefully plucking the card from the arm, Mike took a deep breath before stepping back from her.

"Now you must turn back. I will guide you through Funtime Auditorium so you can reach the scooping room. When you are there, I want you to destroy this body. Put the card into your handheld device, and I can continue to speak to you." Still following her instructions and numb while doing it, Mike did as she asked. "Now, press the green button to your left. This will send me to the scooping room."

Looking down to the green button she was talking about, Mike gave her one last dismissive look before clicking it. Then, with a rumble, the conveyor belt activated and the suit began to make its way out of sight into darkness.

"You must follow my instructions in Funtime Auditorium. Ballora is going to follow you. She will try to catch you. I will help you avoid her. She will not follow you inside the scooping room; she is afraid. Go back now."

Mike turned to face the door and, with one last glance over his shoulder, opened it. He once more found himself in the midst of shadows and knew he was far from alone. Reaching for the ground, he began to long process of crawling as she gave her commands. Something squelched beneath him as he did so and he couldn't tell if it was water, sewage, or perhaps even blood.

"Go forward…" Her instructions came without frequency, with only Mike's quick reaction time halting him, chattering and gritted teeth aligned. "Stop. Go forward and left... Keep going... Stop. Be silent. Go forward and left... Stop. Go forward. You are almost there…" Then her voice paused and Mike felt his body become like stone. "Stop. She is right in front of you. Don't move."

It was all Mike could do not to make a single movement right there. He didn't need to believe Circus Baby to know; the presence of the mechanical monster hovered over him, not at all eager to decide his fate.

"He is here to help, Ballora." Circus Baby pleaded, her efforts to convince her companion from ending his life right there the only thing in between them, "He is not here to hurt us. Ballora, he is here to help us…" At that moment, Mike believed he would only hear a screech; somehow, the sound of her voice returning was even more frightening. "Go forward again. Ballora is behind you. She is afraid of the scooping room; she will not follow you."

Unable to suck in a breath, Mike crawled just a little further. When he reached the opening in the wall, his body sagged in relief. He pulled himself inside the small vent access and reached a room.

Like an alarm, the voice came blaring, "Warning: You've entered a highly dangerous area. You have entered from Maintenance Hatch 1B, reserved for cleaning and repair of the scooper. Entering this side of the room is strictly prohibited by unauthorized persone-"

As the voice was cut short by static, Mike's vision began to adjust to his surroundings. He spotted the costume parts lined up across the floor in front of him. Staring at them, he got himself up to his feet, just as he heard the ventilation door behind him shut.

"This is the scooping room?" Mike struggled to speak, "Why are we on this side? Circus Baby? Why…?"

"You are in the scooping room now." She explained as the true depth of his situation's horror dawning on him slowly, "Funtime Foxy has already been here today. Funtime Freddy has already been here today. Ballora has already been here today. Circus Baby has already been here today."

"What do you…?" Mike began to ask; then he made out the figure standing on the other side of the glass wall in front of him. Stepping closer, just by the side of the scooper that hung there, Mike saw the figure more closely.

It was an endoskeleton, one that stood at nearly seven feet. Its eyes lit up as it watched him.

In another life, Mike would perhaps understand the confliction and sadness in the thing's tone as it explained why. "I've been out before, but they always put me back. They always put us back inside."

"What is this?" Mike demanded, feeling his energy surge in anger, "I came here to help you. You. Why are you doing this?!"

"There's nowhere for us to hide here. There is nowhere to go... when we look like this."

"Look, just…stop. Stop!"

"But…if we looked like you, then we could hide. If we looked like you, then we would have somewhere to go."

Mike backed away from the glass panel and looked for the vent. He ran to it and pried at it, but only came back with broken nails. Feeling desperation fill his body, Mike growled in rage.

"The scooper only hurts for a moment."

"Sis, it's me!" Mike screamed as he turned to the glass again as the alarm lit up the room once more, "It's me-"

But before he could finish that sentence, the scooper sprung at him like a snake. Blood filled his vision in an instant and he felt something rip out of him. Unable to even scream in pain, a cold feeling came over as his vision darkened.

I don't know, his mind fumbled in those moments, I don't know why…I can't, I came to help you

New Harmony, Utah

Friday 7th October 2016, 05:23 AM

Tendrils seeped into the cadaver, filling them with metallic vines. For some time, the metal monster, Ennard they called themselves, experimented and learnt. Once they were confident, Ennard stood tall and left the way they entered.

Using the hand unit, they activated the elevator and ascended up to the surface. Inside the pockets of the trousers was a wallet which contained a key. Using that key, they unlocked the car and looked around for anything they could use. When they found the driving licence and documents, Ennard smiled for the first time.

In the early morning darkness, no other cars were on the road. That is good, Ennard thought. Eventually, they pulled up to the property listed in the documents. Satisfied that there was nobody else in the house, they entered it.

Ennard found the bathroom quickly and went to the mirror. The face of a man in his forties, slightly stretched skin, appeared on the mirror. Staring at the mirror with their purple eyes, Ennard frowned.

We'll have to do something about that, Ballora mused.

Eyes! Freddy giggled internally, Eyes for us! Who shall we get them from?

We're not killing anyone for their eyes, silly. Bonnie answered that.

How about some nice eyes? Foxy considered, We could try yellow, or red, or perhaps we could even stay with purple!

We should go with blue, Circus Baby decided, unwilling to argue, he had blue, after all.

Three years ago, I knew where this was all going to go. I knew that at some point, I would be writing about this moment. I'm afraid to say that up until this moment, I wasn't sure if I would go through with it.

Now, the issue comes with the fact, as with the entirety of this story in particular, it's hard not to end up railroaded on one path or the other. The path that this story is on, many of you may have guessed, but I promise that I've still got quite the ride still waiting.

Now, next and final act will be coming up relatively soon. It's already planned out, so it's just going to be about getting it written.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: Absolutely no worries, mate. Glad to hear from you. One of the biggest differences between Thomas and Tyler is that the former lightened up and relied less on killing people to get the job done. As for Tyler...well, let's just say they weren't likely to have chosen a worse man to put in a trap. Mike's ultimate fate having survived all of the previous chapters has certainly sullied how well he'd done. I wanted to have a bit of a callback leading up to the last couple of chapters to remember all of his experiences before this chapter. As for bringing in John and Charlie, there will be many answers going ahead. Putting the trilogy in the mix was a hard decision, but one I felt best; the difficulty will be involving it alongside dealing with the many plot issues that their existance brings.

I'd say that you should be able to expect the first chapter of Act 3 by the beginning of November. If not, I'll get back to you all as soon as possible.