Sanctuary

The Bunker, Utah

Saturday 3rd December 2016, 08:47 AM

With the morphine rolling through her veins and the various other medications doing their work, she was no longer in a searing, dulling pain. Now, she felt somewhere between numb and giddy.

Grumbling as she felt the resistance from the bandages stopping her from extending her arm, Sam took a few seconds to examine it. She'd had to change the bandage on her arm three times already. Still, it was a better sight than her other arm. The grizzly memory of what it had looked like soon after her fall sent a shiver down her spine.

She rested in the surprisingly cosy armchair Tyler had dragged out from the bedrooms so that she could use it while working. Once he was done and she was settled, he'd pointed a sharp finger up to her face.

"You're not going anywhere until evac arrives." He'd said with an unwavering threatening tone, "Your time in the field is done. Unless you're in danger, you're not leaving this safehouse. Got it?"

Safehouse. That was one way to call it. Rather than being the typical covert building, Sam had quickly surmised it to be some sort of bunker.

To that clear command, Sam had accepted it. However, it didn't come without some push. "What you said last night…"

"Sam." Tyler grunted, "It's happening."

She didn't falter. "You know what comes before that."

"He's a traitor, Sam. I don't care if he was tight with Tom, nor do I care whether you're not wanting him dead."

"Tyler, we have a protocol for this." She urged him, seeing his fury and knowing she needed to temper it, "No unsanctioned killings. That was the rule that we all agreed to when we started this little crusade."

He'd given a derisive laugh, "So what's your plan? We let a traitor who knows everything about us—our names, our families, where we're located—continue to walk around? You know what they'll say when we reach them. Even Carl will agree that he needs shooting."

Despite her gnawing dread and wishes that she could say anything against that, Sam knew he was speaking the truth. "If that's the decision that they make, so be it. It's not about the preservation of life, Ty; it's about understanding what went wrong."

"He's a security threat." Tyler insisted.

"So it would be more prudent to find out who he's told about us and how far this goes, no?"

Tyler didn't respond to that and by the glare in his eyes, she knew he wanted to argue further.

Stepping in, Spencer offered, "That doesn't mean we can't do anything about it right now, though, Uncle."

With a blink, Tyler glanced at him. "What are you saying, kid?"

"This is the way I see it." Crossing his arms, Spencer leaned against the doorframe, "You're probably right in that Carl and the others will agree to the hit. So why don't we make things a little easier right now? Set up a little surveillance, see what intel we can gather."

Seeing what he was doing, Sam had to stop herself from giving him a grateful glance. Tyler frowned deeply, thinking about it, "That's risky, kid. All three of our faces are all over the news. They might even be thinking about going after your team."

"Then we treat it like we're in hostile territory." Spencer shrugged, "Low profile, wetworks. As long as we avoid getting pointed out, I'm sure we can cope."

For a moment, Sam nearly imagined Tyler taking the out-of-character approach and citing caution. Instead, with a growing grin, he shrugged, "Why not? I doubt a couple of village idiots with badges can take down two Caine boys."

Spencer smiled at that. "Let them try." Then he turned to the other room and began to collect his equipment. Worry seeped into Samantha all of a sudden as she wanted to interject. Then she saw him in the mirror, how Spencer moved with confidence and grace and she found herself far back in time, watching a young man very much like her son, albeit with those piercing brown eyes rather than deep blue.

He's got this, Sam assured herself. Knowing that somewhere down the line, whilst he would always be her little boy, he'd grown up.

"I'm thinking," Tyler spoke up, snapping her out of her thoughts, "you know what he said about the leads in Tom's files?"

She regained her bearings and recalled what he was saying, "About those properties and the…what were they called? The Funtime Animatronics?"

"That's the one. Mike was quite quick to shoot that lead down, wasn't he?"

"Wasn't the only one." Spencer agreed, "Mom, you remember when I mentioned that whole thing with that John guy? I said he was in Hurricane. Yet his files pointed John to be in Cedar. Mike seemed way too eager to send me off somewhere as far away from any actual lead as possible."

"Then there's the ambush he led me into." Tyler mumbled. "Anyway, I'm thinking; would it hurt to get a looksee for ourselves? We've got the files. With your brains and my footwork, maybe we could track down that facility for ourselves."

"I'm heading that way, too." Hoisting his equipment up to his shoulder, Spencer seemed deep in thought, "I'm wanting to hit Mike's house first. Try and set up some surveillance around those woods, maybe inside the house if it's safe."

"Just be careful, kid." Tyler warned. "They could be watching the house."

Spencer gave a grin, "I've infiltrated worse places, trust me."

Once they had bid their farewells, Samantha was left alone inside the bunker. Not that she was isolated, of course, even with the bunker's doors closed and locked until they would get back. Both had agreed to set up their visors for good measure; newly-collected from the bunker, giving her camera footage of them in real time.

It was a mistake not to bring these along with us, Sam bitterly reflected. Though true that they had agreed to carry light, perhaps had they been more prepared, they wouldn't have been left scattered.

As she was left alone with her thoughts and listening in to their conversation about setting up a rendezvous point, Sam once again found herself dwelling on the night before. Disassociation, once more. It hadn't gone by her that she felt numb not only in body, but in spirit.

The pain of betrayal. It was strange; in spite of all the horrors she and Tom had lived through since they first met, true betrayal hadn't been a common one. On one hand, she could count possibly five times she had been betrayed in some form. To be led into such an elaborate trap by a dear friend…

They were waiting for us, Sam accepted. The response of the security, whether Police or simply guards employed by Fazbear Entertainment, had been too fast.

Shaking her head, she tried to distance her thoughts from the betrayal. Yet no matter how hard she tried, something new bothered her. Everything, from Mike's behaviour leading up to the incident and his lines of questioning, didn't settle well on her. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd been planning on striking that night she was in his house.

The sudden sound of music made her recoil. Quickly, she found the source of the noise; a phone left on a table nearby. Tyler's burner phone, she realised. With a pained grumble, she left her seat and stepped over to it. Without a name on the phone, nothing else but a contact number, she hesitated.

It could be Carl and the others, she thought to herself. Sighing, she answered the call.

"Hello?" She spoke, trying not to let her grogginess be too obvious.

"That you, Mrs. Williams?"

It took her a moment to recognise the voice. When she did, she nearly sagged. Just what they needed…

"Quantum." She responded, "You wouldn't call if it wasn't something important."

"You could say that. Look, I have a policy; no prying into my clients' business. Especially when those clients I consider trusted. So you'll have to forgive me when I ask what the hell you three were thinking?"

Perhaps she should've been surprised by how blunt he was. Yet she could nearly understand it. "I'll have to ask you to elaborate on that. What is it you think we did?"

Though he remained eerily calm, Quantum's voice was tense and agitated. Perhaps more so than she'd believed possible, "An assassination attempt on a public figure. The murder of ten security officers up in the mountains. A break-in attempt in Fazbear Entertainment's branch office. Need I go on?"

"It's not quite that simple." Samantha sighed, "Would you believe me if I said we were framed?"

"It would be a start. Do you have any idea what sort of hornet's nest you've gone and kicked? The entire state is under lockdown. Patrols and checkpoints from St. George to Salt Lake. There's talk that they're even bringing in the FBI."

When she didn't answer that, Quantum took a deep breath. "Listen, I like you. And even though I wanted to wring his neck when he walked in expecting a favour, I like Jack. So I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that you were not intending this fallout."

"Mike tried to kill me." Sam interrupted, silencing him. "He set us up. I don't know how or why; all I know is someone I thought was my friend pulled a knife out of his neck last night and forced me out of a window. He planned out ambushes and traps for us to fall right into."

Silent for a few moments, Quantum seemed to digest that poorly. "Why? And what was that about the knife? He…pulled it out of his neck?"

"I haven't the foggiest." Sam responded bluntly, "None of this is making any sense right now."

"Then I'm guessing I'm making the right decision here. This was more than anything a courtesy call to tell you: I'm out. Utah's not a worthwhile risk anymore. Too dangerous. I'm pulling out."

"Okay." Sam was unsure of what else to say.

"And in spite of our differences of opinion, I'd also like to say that I hope you three get out of dodge."

"I appreciate that."

"Take care of yourself, Mrs. Williams."

"You too, Quantum."

With that, he ended the call. For some time, Sam sat in silence, watching the camera footage. It continued until Spencer arrived at Mike's house, having split from Tyler at some point. She watched as he cautiously watched around for any signs he was being followed.

Once he was done, with a successful infiltration of the property, he left the area without an issue. When Sam had discovered that the location of the bunker was not too far north of New Harmony, it had nearly been intriguing.

By the time that Tyler had arrived near the area he was wanting to survey, Spencer had arrived back at the bunker. She let him in and he gave her a subdued smile.

Seeing his near grimace, she grew concerned. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just, uh…" He breathed in slowly, "Do you have a moment?"

She smiled. "Always."

"It's just…" Spencer seemed to compose himself before he could speak, "Mom, I'm sorry. Just…I really am."

"Spencer…"

"I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have been there-"

"Spencer." She insisted, "I told you to go. None of this is your fault."

"If something had happened to you…if it had been worse…"

"It would not have been your fault." She said firmly, then softened. "You put the mission first, just like your dad taught you. He'd be proud of you. You know that?"

He didn't respond.

"This lead of yours…" She wanted to change the subject, "What is it? You think it's anything worthwhile?"

"It might be." Spencer admitted, "You know Afton's partner, Henry? That he had a daughter?"

"I think…" She thought back to her own readings of the leads they had collected, "Yes. Yes, her name was Charlie. That John fellow was possibly connected to her?"

"That's right. I found her. At least, I think. He meets up with her up in a cabin to the east of her. It's just…"

"What?"

Meeting her eyes, Spencer showed his worry, "I've been thinking about what Mike said. I don't think I was the only one looking for her."

The Void

Monday 31st October 2016, 11:37 AM

Mike couldn't tell how long he was dragged through the darkness; days? Months? Or perhaps mere hours? Either way, it all became such a daze for him, not much different than when he was simply alone.

That was until the light came. Blinding light, which enveloped him completely. When the light finally dissipated, he was left with quite the sight.

The countryside.

Stammering at the sight, Mike stared hard at the trees and fields that lay before him. A thin layer of snow fell at his feet. Unable to stop himself, Mike tried to reach for the snow…

…and saw his own hand stretch out in front of him.

That's different, Mike mused to himself. How long had it been since he had hands?

Once he was quite positive that he wasn't hallucinating, he looked back towards the stretch of land that lay before him. I can't just stand here forever, he reminded himself. With a weary sigh, unable to comprehend what had just happened, Mike walked further into the trees.

As he tried to search back deep within himself to understand, Mike came back with foggy thoughts. How had he ended up here in the first place? Grumbling at the lack of memory he had—which he recoiled at, having forgotten what his own voice sounded like—he thought back as much as he could.

I went searching for something, Mike remembered. He'd gone alone. If he was here, he had a feeling that it didn't quite work out.

There were metal hallways, he recalled. So small, you would have to crawl. There were dancing creatures…what were they called?

He became irritated when the answer didn't come quickly. All he could say was that they were underground; deep underground. It was hard to tell when it was he stopped being alive down there. The knowledge that he probably didn't make it out of that underground place left him sad.

Animatronics, he realised. Nodding at the sound of that, Mike knew he found the answer. With that lifted out of his thoughts, he could concentrate on walking through these woods. Yet even then, his restless mind dwelled on other things.

If I'm here, and I didn't make it out of that underground place, he pondered, feeling distressed, that means I died. Right?

Though scoffing at first, the longer he thought about it, the more he knew it was anything but a theory. Had his luck run out? Before he was even able to make amends?

As his distress grew, Mike found himself falling to his knees, into the snow. Holding his head in his hands, he felt a stabbing pain in his chest and nearly sobbed.

All of this, he clawed at his head before looking up, angry at the world. "All of this was for nothing?"

His voice grew as he spoke, until he was yelling at the sky, "You put me through this crap time and time again…and in the end, none of it was even worth it!"

"Spencer died for me! Thomas died for me! And in the end, none of it was even worth it!" He screamed, pounding his fist into the ground, "God damn it!"

He laid there, wallowing in his self-pity for some time before he felt a surge of energy force him up to his feet. Growling in anger, he strided onwards, further into the woods, not knowing where he was going.

I'm a damn fool, Mike bitterly told himself, and whatever awaits me, I deserve it.

Not long afterwards, he spotted the edge of the treeline just a few hundred metres away. Narrowing his eyes, Mike made his way closer and closer until he reached the end of it. When he saw what awaited him, he had to take a step back. Nervously, he took a step off the treeline and onto the road.

As it was a road, as far as he could tell; not one he was familiar with, rather a neat cobblestone that stretched far on either side. It was yellow-dyed, somewhat shiny.

Choose a direction, Mike decided. He looked either side, until he spotted something leading down the left. Blinking, he investigated, heading to the thing he saw. He approached it carefully, looking out for any sign of an ambush, until he reached it.

It was a big wooden sign, rounded and planted carefully. Straining his eyes, Mike read the sign:

Fazbear Hills, Fantasy and Fun awaits!

He stared hard at the words on the sign, grasping just what it all meant. Fazbear, he focused on first. That was connected somewhere…he couldn't quite remember. As did the last part of the sign. Fantasy and Fun…

Fazbear…Freddy, he recalled. Freddy's last name was Fazbear, wasn't it?

He became satisfied at that. This was a sign, one that seemed to be welcoming. Welcome. Welcome…Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's…

This was connected to the animatronics; more than that, it was connected to himself. Recoiling as he began to understand more, he bit his lip.

Where am I? He wondered, clueless, Is this Hell? Some kind of specially-designed Hell for me in particular?

As he thought about it, though, he decided against it. As bizarre and nonsensical as it was, he couldn't see his eternal damnation including a nice walk through a forest, following an actual yellow brick road. Finding no other options, Mike took a deep breath and began to walk down the road towards this Fazbear Hills.

Even if it would lead to nothing, it was a nice vacation from the darkness.

After some time marching up that road, cautiously watching out for any sign he was being watched, Mike relaxed as the forest drifted into fields. Above him, the sun shined warmly and he couldn't help but momentarily bask in it.

Never thought I'd miss that, he murmured to himself. Then he continued, heading up the hill, passing by trees. Once he reached the top, he halted in his tracks at the sight of buildings. Staring at the buildings for some time, Mike felt excitement build up in his chest.

"I'm not alone?" He whispered to himself, before allowing his voice to rise a little, "I'm not alone."

Without a second thought, he continued down the road, heading closer to the buildings in the distance. A little town, perhaps? Why there was a little town wherever he was, he could not know; all he did know was he needed more.

Some time later, those buildings were no longer distant figures in the horizon, rather something very close. He passed another sign that read Fazbear Hills, Fantasy and Fun awaits! and marched in, looking for any sign of life.

When he found it, the excitement was wrenched from his chest and replaced with a confused horror.

There were indeed figures, wandering around the town from where he could see. They were small, like children, yet something about them immediately felt off. Like they weren't really human. All wore masks.

Forcing his body to move, Mike darted for cover. He found it by a building just next to the road, worried he had been seen in the moments he spent frozen on the road. As he watched on towards the oblivious creatures, he relaxed, knowing he was unseen.

What now? He pondered. On one hand, it seemed like the best and safest move to simply turn around and wander into the countryside again. Yet he'd been led here for a reason.

Cursing softly, he went against his better judgement and turned, heading around the building's edge. I have to get a better reading from these things first, he decided. Turning into a small garden, he made his way a bit further, laying his eyes on two of the creatures.

Mike kept to the shadows and listened in to their conversation. The two creatures wore masks—one resembling that of a yellow bird and the other a red fox—and conversed, oblivious to being watched.

"Game night, tonight!" The chicken mask said brightly, "I hope Goldie feels like joining in."

The fox mask nearly scoffed at that, "They still be sulkin'. Still a landlubber."

"Come on, Foxy." The chicken mask scolded, "We've forgiven Goldie, remember?"

"Maybe ye have, lass. I know Bosun said, but Ol' Foxy still needs time."

They continued to converse as Mike listened in. He frowned at the sound of those two names; though the latter remained elusive, the former was all too familiar…

Foxy, Mike dwelled upon it. Where have I heard that name before?

Silently, he followed in the direction the two creatures were going. Stopping at the outskirts of a large town square of sorts, he peered towards the centre. Two other figures stood in the square and they welcomed the two Mike had been following with happiness.

Narrowing his eyes, Mike tried to make out the two new figures as best as he could; one seemed to be wearing a rabbit mask, and the other…

A bear mask. Feeling the air rush out of his lunges, Mike felt the image of one of those animatronics burn into his mind. Freddy?

More figures began to make their way to the square, wearing different masks, yet they seemed faintly familiar. It's getting too crowded around here, Mike decided, I need to fall back, figure out my next best move…

So he turned, intending to backtrack, but instead came face-to-face with one of the creatures.

Mike froze, terror turning his limbs to stone. He stared into the wide eyes of the creature, who wore a white fox mask. In that moment, Mike was expecting a scream, or guttural, predatorial cry; perhaps even for the creature to immediately open its gaping maw and devour him whole.

Instead, the creature slowly smiled, and said in a child-like voice, just one word: "Mike?"

Finally, the energy in Mike's bones returned and he instinctively turned and stumbled away, onto the street leading down from the square. The creature called his name again and he heard commotion coming from the square. He tried to run, but something weighed him down heavily.

He heard his name repeated over and over again by the creatures. Unable to find the strength to run, Mike could only turn and watch as they descended onto him.

"Michael!" The creature wearing the Freddy mask called out, "Please, wait!"

"H…" Mike choked out, "How? How do you know my name?"

The creatures paused at that and looked amongst themselves. After a moment, the one wearing the Freddy mask responded, "Of course we know your name. We would always recognise a friend."

"A friend-" Mike spoke, but then stopped. The understanding finally dawned upon him of where he was standing and who was in front of him. Old friends, ones he had helped, so long ago.

The waning strength in Mike finally faltered and he felt himself collapse onto the cobblestone floor, staring off into the distance.

The souls came closer, though more carefully than they had at first. He felt Chica's hand hold his as he continued to stare off as she was joined by Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica.

When he felt he could finally speak again, Mike asked the question. "I'm dead," he looked into the eyes of Freddy, "aren't I?"

Freddy's eyes were sympathetic. "It would appear so, old friend."

"But we're still here for you." Chica promised, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Now and forever." Bonnie promised, his voice full of wisdom.

"Still can't get rid of us that easily, lad!" Foxy cackled.

"No." Mike mumbled and felt a strange sense of peace, "I guess I can't."

I'm sure it's becoming obvious where I'm going with this. This has been something I've been anticipating since a year ago and honestly, would not blame anyone for thinking I'm going crazy here. I'm not entirely sure if it's not true, myself.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: The Malcolm reveal was not something I was originally planning, but as you said, it perhaps adds a bit more context as to why Not-Mike may be so chummy with some of the other executives. Naturally, whether Malcolm knows about the literal identity theft is a bit up in the air. The addition of Circus Baby's tech being repurposed was an interesting touch that I considered; it adds a bit more context to the rebrand in 1987. More so, Afton's very non-subtle killings there as it turns out were more revenge-motivated. It seems as regards to the security going after Sam so quickly that the incident was certainly more planned than anything. Not-Mike had already set Tyler up and seemed intent on making sure that Sam either left in cuffs or left in a bodybag. Of course, we know the truth, but as far as the team is concerned currently, it was an unexpected and heartbreaking betrayal. That heartbreak's not about to go any time soon, either. Though Mike's soul has been guided to a place he at least has company, his story certainly isn't over yet.