Prologue: Paragraph 4

New Harmony, Utah

Thursday 21st December 2017, 05:27 AM

With a raised eyebrow, Mr. Afton stared into his blue eyes, checking for anything different. When he was satisfied, he backed away and tightened his blue tie. A brief check around the restroom he was inside told him that it would take a short amount of time to clean it.

After tonight, he mused to himself, cleaning a toilet will feel like a breeze.

Down in the catacombs, it was like a different world. Too familiar to his other times deep underground, filled with the threats which had mercilessly hunted him down. Two monsters had prowled around, seeking blood, yet were otherwise denied such a luxury.

That didn't mean they left no mark. It was no longer quite fear that Mr. Afton felt, rather a certain weariness. Knowing that the end was in sight, yet every step towards it felt like two back.

Shaking his head, he tried to quell the doubts in his mind. One step at a time. Let's get this place cleaned up.

With one last gauge of the state of the restroom, Mr. Afton entered the main floor and took a good look around, sighing at the mess. Tables littered with scraps of food, chairs left ajar and stained, and the floor covered in debris.

Of course, this was simply business as usual for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

Heading into the supply closet, Mr. Afton wheeled out the trolley and began taking out the plastic bags. First step was to get the debris bagged up and ready to be tossed. At the very least, most of it had been dealt with by the janitors, which was a plus. With a close time of nine pm, however, alongside his unwillingness to allow any employee to be there come midnight, it left the last few jobs to be done by him.

Not like he had anything to go back to at home, anyway.

A franchisee, he was referred to as. Basically, a jumped-up manager. Trusted with spearheading the comeback of what was essentially an ancient and cursed relic. There was a reason why Fazbear Entertainment had decided to build their new-and-improved Freddy Fazbear's outside of Hurricane, as they had tried to do so once more in the past.

Stopping in front of a large attraction in the shape of a robot with bright buttons and colourful decorations, Mr. Afton eyed him for a moment. Then, digging for a quarter, he put it in the slot. Audio crackled out of the robot.

"Now I will tell you a story about a young woman who was sealed in a small room." The robot named Candy Cadet spoke out, static cutting through his words, "In the room was a furnace and five keys. She was told that each of the five keys would unlock one of five doors outside her room. Inside each room was a child was a child was a child was a child-"

As Candy Cadet continued to loop, Mr. Afton frowned. "Having a bit of trouble, old friend? Let's see what the issue is now…"

Heading around the back of it, he opened the maintenance hatch on the lower end of it and scowled at the wiring. Then, shaking his hand a little, he reached into it and found the snagged wire inside. His system jolted slightly, though he was unharmed. I've done that enough times, he mused.

Candy Cadet resumed his speech. "-that she could take with her as she fled the building. But she was only allowed to leave her own room with one key, not all five."

Staying on the floor, Mr. Afton waited patiently for him to finish.

"Desperate to find a way to save all five children, the woman melted the five keys together in the furnace to create a single key, hoping it would unlock all five doors." Candy's story, as they always did, ended on a sour note. "Of course, it did not work that way. Now her key opened none of the doors. Rather than leaving her room with a key to one life, she had taken with her the key to five deaths."

The ball hit him on the shoulder and he froze in place. With a small turn, he looked over his shoulder towards the ball pit, waiting for a sign of movement. When none came, he went to close the hatch. As he did, another ball hit him. A whisper came from the pit, hushed.

"Knock it off." He said bluntly with another look. When there was no response, he finished what he was doing and stood up. A third ball hit him.

Mr. Afton spun around on the spot. "I'll take that thing away from you unless you knock that off!"

"Oh please, try." The girl mumbled as she lifted her head from the ball pit to scowl at him, "It'll alleviate the boredom."

A second head poked up from the pit, looking sheepish. "Sorry, Mike. I was trying to tell her to leave you alone."

"Not your fault, bud." Michael Afton shrugged, "I get it, close is not fun."

"Fun?" The girl emphasised with distaste, "Fun isn't even in the equation. This is no different than watching paint dry."

Mike couldn't help but smirk. "Welcome to the working world, Cass."

"I would ask you to kill me now," She grumbled, "but well, been there, done that and all."

The other soul emerged from the pit and approached the stage cautiously. Seeing him, Mike nearly winced, understanding it. On the stage was a bear with a red hat and goofy green eyes. One hand was lifted up in a wave.

Noticing his daze, the girl emerged from the pit too and joined his side. "Hey. Hey? Earth to skipper? Anyone home?"

After a moment, he blinked and looked at her, confused. "Huh? Sorry?"

"You okay? Spaced out a little, then."

"Oh. Sorry."

Standing up, Mike walked over to join them. "Should be getting the elephant tomorrow. Whole band will be together, then."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Great. The Mediocre Melodies, here to remind you how far this stupid company has come…"

"I like them." The boy admitted.

With his hands on his hips, Mike ran his eyes through the animatronics on stage. Alongside the dopey-looking bear named Nedd Bear, there was a pig with a banjo called Pigpatch, Happy Frog acting as a sort of back up singer, and Mr. Hippo. To be perfectly honest, Mike wasn't sure where the latter's place was in the band. Perhaps as a sort of story teller or colour character, such as Foxy was?

"They suit their purpose." Mike eventually offered, looking at it from a purely pragmatic point of view. "We'll be getting new ones in as soon as possible…hopefully with a little more star power."

Cass snorted at that, "What, you're saying nobody wants to watch the pig? Who would've thought it."

"Necessity is the mother of invention, Cass."

"Well, I guess they're better than Trash and the Gang."

The boy smiled, "You see, Cassie? There's a silver lining to everything."

Cassidy shot him a good-natured raised eyebrow, before frowning. "It's, uh…time for the round-up, right?"

Trying not to turn as grim as the other two had become at that thought, Mike nodded. "Seems so. Soon as the front room is clear."

Not long afterwards, once he was satisfied that it was clear, Mike set the last few garbage bags down near the door and readied himself mentally. This was something he always hated doing, yet the nerves he felt as the hour approached was menacing. It was simply something he wanted over and done with as soon as.

Taking a quick glance over his shoulder towards his two companions, Mike gritted his teeth and pushed the back door open. Though dawn had arrived, the night sky still glimmered overhead. It was one of the benefits of winter; less daylight meant less chance that someone would catch sight of something stalking around.

Mike flicked his flashlight on and immediately spotted the metallic heap that was nearby the brick wall just past the dumpster. Taking his steps slowly, Mike carefully produced his taser and prepared it. Though he hadn't had to use it out in the alleyway as of yet, he knew that could change with the drop of a hat.

In the darkness, Mike couldn't make out its appearance immediately. When he got closer, however, with the thin moonlight drifting down onto the alleyway, he knew it could be no other one.

For some time, Mike stood there, watching it. When he finally turned to look at the other two, he could see the nearly-pale look his ghostly brother had. Stepping around to get a better look, Cassidy sniffed at the sight of it.

"We should probably get moving." She warned, though not unkindly. Against his own turmoil, Mike knew she was right. Still with his eyes on the animatronic, he went back inside into the delivery bay and grabbed the keys for the trolley from its hook.

Once the trolley was powered, he rolled it outside through the larger bay door and took his time hooking up the animatronic onto it. Then, he began to drag the animatronic into the building.

As he did so, Cassidy saw the look on her friend's face and tapped him on the shoulder. "We need to do this. You know that, right?"

Though Mike could even tell without looking at him that his voice betrayed his words, his brother spoke a quiet "I know."

Once the animatronic was secure, Mike brought it into the building and into one of the small side rooms. Once unhooked, he dragged it by hand, lifted it up, and placed it on the chair that was nailed into the floor. Taking one more look at it before he continued, Mike shut the door and switched the light off.

Then, with hesitant feet and his hand firmly glued to the taser that he'd holstered, Mike sat down on the chair opposite. On the table, as was always prepared, was a cassette player and a small pile of papers which held a checklist. As Mike's two allies watched on warily, he sat down and played the tape. Follow the process, he reminded himself.

"Begin tape. Leaving dead space, three, two, one." The voice on the tape spoke the same words it had the last two times Mike had undertaken this sort of endeavor, "The purpose of this tape is to test automated response times and reaction from vintage interactive attractions following audio stimuli."

As the tape continued, Mike stared hard at the animatronic which sat there, lifeless. "If you are playing this tape, that means that not only have you been checking outside at the end of every shift, as you were instructed to do, but also that you have found something that meets the criteria of your special obligations under paragraph four."

With a careful hand and watchful eyes, Mike picked up the nearby pen.

"Follow these instructions, document response times, then safely secure the space before leaving. Upon sealing the room you are not to return."

Time to face the music, Mike mused.

"Begin audio prompt in three, two, one."

A horrifying tune played, one that might have hurt his ears if he had biological ones still. Instead, it was merely annoying, albeit causing him some loss of focus at the echo it caused.

Finally, the sound came to an end, followed by a very direct "Document results."

Looking down at the checklist, Mike ticked the small box that said No.

The second prompt came soon afterwards. "Begin audio prompt in three, two, one."

This one sounded more like a whale's echolocation, which was at least a little more tolerable.

"Document results."

Mike nodded, satisfied. No.

The third one came and he could feel himself simultaneously relieved and worried. Two audio prompts, yet no sign of life. That was unusual, to say the least.

"Begin audio prompt in three, two, one."

The third one sounded even worse than the first. As he sat there, watching, he was sure he was about to see something. When nothing happened, he hesitated.

"Document results."

That's going to be a No, too. By this time, the other two had reacted in at least some way. This was unexpected.

"Begin audio prompt in three-"

Then there was a sharp click and Mike blinked. Stealing a quick glance, he saw that the cassette player had paused. Probably just clogged up again, he decided. He began to reach for it when he heard her.

"Two." Circus Baby, or perhaps what was left of her, nearly whispered. "One."

Her eyes moved and stared right at him. When she showed no other sign she was about to attack, Mike raised one of his fake eyebrows and sat back in his chair.

"So…" He acknowledged her with a nod, "I suppose we should start from the beginning."

Though she offered no answer to that, neither did she betray any sign that she was about to do anything other than listen to what he was going to say. For a moment, all they did was stare each other down, neither yielding.

Hurricane, Utah

Sunday 25th June 2017 07:21 AM

Blackened floors and tattered strips that were once walls surrounded her as she wandered. For any number of reasons, the city had chosen not to dig up the ruins and instead left them there, like an overgrown pimple. Had it been Fazbear Entertainment, using their influence for some unknown reason?

Clenching her fist, Samantha looked around, furious with herself. Her eyes were not as skilled as either her son's or brother-in-law's, but she knew there truly wasn't any trail here. Nothing that would help them further in their search. All that remained was a scar that had weighed on her consciousness for two years.

It had only been one other two she had been here since those two years that she had visited Fazbear Frights again. The very same place everything had fallen apart…the same place she had last seen her husband alive…

It was here, she realised, taking a few steps to her right and turning to face one of those tattered walls. Right here. This is where I was standing…

She could still remember his face…that nod he gave to them. A signal that she had not had the heart to comprehend until Mike was ushering them out. To leave him behind had been unthinkable; yet that night, it's what they did. Against her will, kicking and screaming, she had left the love of her life to die.

That wasn't where her anger came from, however. As much as it still hurt, she had accepted what had happened two years ago. What drove her to want to kick one of the broken walls down was the knowledge that they had been perhaps just a few hours too late.

He was here, she knew deep down. They had been tracking him for months, trying to latch on to any trail. When a bloodhound like Tyler, someone who had years of experience in hunting down elusive targets and shadow people, was having trouble pinpointing Mike Schmidt's location, it said everything.

Mike was always talented at keeping off the radar; it had been how he survived. Son of the state's most notorious serial killer since Arthur Bishop, headhunted by Fazbear Entertainment for years, all the while never being able to help himself from getting involved in very dangerous business?

Not even death could keep him down, she mused. Had it been a mere freak of nature which had brought him back, or sheer willpower? Perhaps she could ask him that, once they finally caught up with him.

Turning around, Sam walked steadily back out of the ruins until she bumped into Spencer. Waiting for her, Spencer gave a curious look. "Find anything?"

"It's like you said." She sighed, "No trail, other than the licence plate. He'll probably change car soon, if he hasn't already."

"We'll find him, mom. Tyler and I reckon we're about six hours behind him."

"I know." Closing her eyes, she tried to calm her nerves down, "But we've been here before. One mistake and we'll be further behind."

"He returned to Utah for a reason." With a reassuring hand on her good shoulder, he stated without any doubt, "If he came back, it's because he's intending to stay."

That's true, she admitted. Wincing as her arm sent another stab of pain, she manoeuvred herself out. Though she had at least regained control over it after that fall, it was still recovering. Painful as ever.

"You knew him better than I did." Spencer inquired, "Why do you think he came back?"

That was a question she had been asking herself over and over. "Two options; either he's figured out what he's looking for and is making a beeline for it, like how we did two years ago when we came back to Utah."

"And the other option?"

"He knows he's been tracked, also much like we realised two years ago, and is preparing to stand his ground."

"Which would mean he knows we're following him." With a frown, Spencer pointed out, "That's not good."

"We'll figure it out once we're at that point." When she saw the grimace on their third's face, she bit her lip, "But judging by that look, I think we've got bigger issues."

They approached Tyler, who was finishing on the laptop and putting it away. Turning to look at them, he seemed gaunt.

"You're not gonna like this." He warned.

Samantha sighed again, "What now? How bad, ranging from papercut to end of world scenario?"

"Yeah, the last one would just about do it."

When his voice was strained, she hesitated. That's not good. He's not joking. "Ty…what's happened?"

"Carl's just broadcasted an emergency message to all members of AESIR. The seven, our agencies, our support staff…all of them."

"Why?" Stepping forward, Spencer paled, "What's the message?"

"Pandora."

Only once before had that message been given; two years ago, less than a month after they had fled from the burning Fazbear Frights. Section nineteen, she reminded herself.

"Donovan?" Spencer demanded, a rare anger in his voice, "What's he done now?"

"They've burnt us." Tyler's voice was devoid of emotion as he said that. "All of us…our names. Our families. Every single person who knows us…it's all gone underground. Every gang we've crossed, every cartel we've deprived, every cutthroat organisation we've denied…all that information has gone to them."

A freight train of horror filled Samantha as she heard those words. "Oh my God…they…what about-"

"Carl's had your kids picked up." Tyler assured her, "First order that's been given out is to safeguard every civilian who those…bloody bellends have just put in danger. But we're in their crosshairs now. All of us."

Looking down at the ground, Spencer asked grimly, "Have my team been alerted?"

"They have. They've offered to house anyone in danger on the west coast."

"Good." He breathed, "Good…what do we do now?"

They both looked over to Samantha, searching for the answer. Feeling that familiar sting of pressure fill her, she raised a sweaty hand to her face.

"I don't know." She struggled to get the words out, "I don't know."

They stood there, on that burnt crossroads, knowing whichever way they went would lead to ruin.

Washington County, Utah

Sunday 25th June 2017 07:21 AM

Cassidy sighed, "Could you go any slower?"

"There's things called traffic laws." Mike retorted, his growing irritation causing him to nearly snap. They were on the road leading out of St. George, heading steadily towards the place they had been told about.

With her arms crossed, Cassidy sighed again. "Funny how you pick and choose which laws to follow, einstein."

In the other seat in the back, Mike's brother frowned at their argument. "Cassie, if Mike starts driving erratically, he might be spotted."

"Exactly, D." Mike nodded, satisfied, at the reason offered. "I'm driving a stolen car. It's best to keep a low profile. If that bores you, you don't have to stick around."

"Trust me when I say I'd rather be anywhere else than spending all these hours with you, Michael." Cassidy sniffed, "I'm only here because Dave's here."

"Yeah, I got that. Loud and clear." Grumbling, Mike turned his attention back onto the road. "Anyway, this lead; what am I driving around for?"

"All Charlie told me is that whoever it is," With a continuing lack of cooperation, Cassidy slumped in her seat, arms crossed and a bored expression on her face, "he can be trusted."

"That's not a whole lot to go on."

"When is it ever with her?"

With a clear attempt to lighten up the mood, Dave smiled, "Let's think of it as an adventure."

Cassidy raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

"It might make it a little less depressing. I know; let's play I Spy!"

With a scowl on her face, Cassidy mumbled, "Sure."

"I'll start; I spy with my little eye…something beginning with…M."

"Moron." Cassidy answered without any hesitation and Mike could see her eyes glued on him.

"Um…" Dave blinked, "...not quite."

With a shake at his head at the comment, Mike ignored it. Trying to think of his own answer, he narrowed his eyes at the sight of the open, sandy area they were about to drive up. A rocky outcrop in the distance made a lightbulb light up in his head. "Let me think…Mesa?"

"That's right!"

Cassidy glanced over to Dave, frowning. "What's a mesa?"

"A steep, isolated hill surrounded by plains." Dave explained, proud of himself.

"Huh. How did you know that?"

"I read a book."

"Okay, then."

"You go next, Mike."

But Mike shook his head. "That's alright; Cass, you're up."

"Don't call me that." Cassidy said sullenly, "Makes me sound like I'm a boy."

Unable to help himself, Mike smirked. "Thought you were, first time I met you."

"I thought of my word." Cassidy responded immediately, "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with I."

"Hm." Dave mumbled thoughtfully, "I want to say Ivins?"

Recalling the recent part of town they had just crossed through with the big sign, Mike found himself hoping that it was really the answer.

"Not quite."

Of course, Mike sighed. "Let me guess: Idiot?"

"Wow, Mike!" Cassidy clapped her hands slowly, "You are really good at this game!"

"Okay." With a low growl, Mike responded, "I get the point."

Biting his ethereal lip, Dave looked between the two of them. "Um…it's your turn, Mike…"

Mike looked down at the dashboard, his thoughts racing. When he settled on his answer, his face twisted into a lipless smile. "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with…H."

"Hill?" Dave offered.

"Nope."

Cassidy sniffed. "Harlot?"

"H-" Unable to help himself, Mike slowed the car down and turned to look at her, horrified, "How on Earth…where did you learn that?!"

"I'm technically forty." She scowled with a challenging glare, "I've heard a lot of insults. So, was that it?"

"What-No! God, no!"

"Eh. It was a good guess."

Mike scoffed as he returned his gaze to the road.

Having watched on in silence, Dave seemed even less sure. "Hair?"

"No."

Cassidy's voice returned. "House."

"Nope." Mike shook his head, "I'll give you a clue; it's close by-"

"House."

"No, no, it's-"

"Mike!" Cassidy yelled out, "House!"

"What…?" Looking over his shoulder, Mike slowed the car down and saw her pointing through the window-quite literally, her hand was phasing through the glass-into the darkness.

Yet Mike's eyes now could see into that darkness far better and sure enough, he also spotted the house in the distance.

"Huh." He muttered, "Here I was, thinking Honda…"

Turning the car towards the path of the house, Mike drove them closer to it, as the light of dawn emerged from over the mesa in the distance. As they arrived, they all stared at the ominous shadow the house cast.

"This the place?" Mike asked, knowing the answer.

After a moment, Cassidy nodded. "Yep. This is the place."

Fazbear Frights, Hurricane, Utah

Sunday 8th March 2015, 01:27 AM

"We have to go."

"No." Samantha nearly muttered, shaking her head, "No."

Caine wanted to speak; to tell her it was okay. That he loved her, to look after the kids. But his strength was waning and to utter those words would be all it would take for him to back out of this. So instead, he took aim and fired at the animatronic.

As the animatronic turned to face him, he almost smiled. Samantha pushed past Ella, but before she could take more than two steps, Mike stepped in to block her.

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

Before she could take another step towards him, Carl stepped in and grabbed Samantha by her other arm.

"No!" She screamed and it took everything from Carl and Mike to stop her. Leading the way, Ella and Jack took one last pained look towards Caine before disappearing around the corner.

Suddenly, the animatronic lunged and Caine knew he hadn't the strength to avoid its clutches. Grabbing him, the animatronic lifted him up against the wall, opening its horrifying jaw and revealing the flesh inside. As it did, Caine's pistol left his hand and fell to the floor with a thud.

"Someone do something!" She screamed again as they dragged her away, "No! Please, no!"

A stab of pain erupted from Caine's side as the animatronic ripped the metal pipe from his abdomen. It held the bloodstained pipe in its other hand, preparing to stab Caine with it.

"Stop!" Sam wailed, "Stop it! Tom!"

It pained Caine as saw his wife being pulled around the corner by Carl. Before he went with them, Caine and Mike exchanged one last look before he joined them. Then Caine's gaze turned to the cold, dead eyes of the animatronic and he smirked.

"Tom!" He heard her voice one last time before she was nearly carried out of the building.

Then he reached for the old revolver that had once been John Lamarck's. He unholstered it and aimed for the fuse box. All the animatronic could do was stare in disbelief.

But it was too late; too late to stop him. Locking his sights on the fuse box, Caine knew he wouldn't miss. His finger pressed down on the trigger and an eruption of sound burst his ear drums.

Time seemed to become abstract, everything slowing down. He could nearly see the motion of the bullet as it left the gun, whirring in the air. Then, when it hit the fuse box, he could see the sparks that flew.

A shockwave of electricity filled the air. The animatronic's gaze turned back to him and it snarled, screaming in his face. Knowing that it was too late to stop him.

The fire lit up the building's wiring and the gasoline that Mike had dropped in the halls. Parts of the building lit up first, but Caine knew that the moment it hit the gas pipes, the entire building would follow.

Flashes of people closest to him flashed in his mind; Mike, Carl and Tyler. The three who time and time again had followed him straight into hell and back.

Spencer, Katie, Zack. His pride and joys. All he could do was hope that they remained as strong as when he'd left them.

But the last face he saw was the woman who he lived for.

You made this all worth it, he thought. Thomas Caine closed his eyes…

…and felt the resistance against his throat drop and a distant, furious scream. Opening his eyes and falling back against the wall, he saw the animatronic screeching. One arm still clutching that pipe and the other on the floor.

Not paying the animatronic one spare thought, Dutch Lawson growled as he threw the axe down, then threw himself at Caine, driving the both of them into the hallway.

Then the fireball came.

The sudden explosion of light, Caine felt his vision go and could hear himself screaming. After a moment, he found the strength to open his left eye and realised that he was pushed into the corner around from where he'd last seen the animatronic.

And that he was screaming even more.

Dutch Lawson stood over him, shielding him as the fire spat and blistered around them. He knew his hearing was gone now, but the pain wasn't just coming from his shattered eardrums. All these years, he'd experienced many types and degrees of pain. The burns on his body were second at best.

Growling visibly as he shielded Caine from the worst of it, which would have killed him within moments, Lawson's furious eyes made contact with Caine's unburnt one.

All Caine could do in those moments they stayed there was mutter, unhearable to himself, Why?

Snarling at that, Lawson mouthed, Only me, Tommy. Only I get to kill ya.

Then the firestorm in the hallway began to simmer and Lawson turned, trying to spot a way out. Unable to help himself, Caine twisted and searched himself; his eyes fell onto the cracks that had formed in the building burning around them. Through that crack, he saw her.

His wife, on the ground with Carl holding her, screaming her anguish.

Sam…Caine tried to speak but he didn't even know if the words came out, Sam!

Then Lawson's hands grabbed him and heaved him up, carrying him through the hallway. The fire licked Caine again and he felt himself scream one final time; yet Lawson pushed forward, dragging him through the hallways. At some point, Caine's half-working vision darkened.

Sensing that the detective had fallen unconscious, Dutch growled again. He spotted the freakish robot getting up and pursuing them amidst the inferno, but he paid it no attention. Finding the wall that had started to crumble as the building behind him started to follow suit. He threw himself and Caine out, as far away from the fire as possible.

But when his eyes found the road and saw that they were gone, he nearly howled. "No good bloody deed!" He spat as he lifted the burnt, bleeding wreck of a human being up and carried him off.

Well then. Here we go. The final (kind of) story. I'll admit, I never expected to reach this point.

So by this chapter alone, looking at it from the reader's point of view, I'm sure there's a lot of questions. You'll have to trust me when I say that the questions I'm expecting will be answered, if not now then at some point. If there are any questions I'm not expecting, though, don't feel like you can't express them.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: The Thomas Caine situation was one of the most complex parts of the series, simply because I'd always planned around his apparent death. The issue is, the biggest question I had going into it was when does he come back. Early versions back in 2015-17 had him coming back at any point during the FNAF 4's story and Sister Location's. Some had his survival revealed sooner. I'd decided exactly when I wanted him to come back soon after I finished Gift of Life, but then a question came that I hadn't planned on: How do I make him coming back make sense?

That's where the Sanctuary came into play. More will be revealed soon, with this newfound knowledge that he did not truly perish inside Fazbear Frights. The thing that I also found was that his departure had some boons to it. It opened the way to other characters getting their time, which is something I'm not wanting to take away going forward.

Now, what was NOT planned was this little situation with Mike not wandering alone. I will admit, this idea about the souls of his brother and Golden Freddy (Now revealed as Dave and Cassidy; don't worry, that will be expanded on) being with him was not something I'd planned until about one month ago. So far, I've enjoyed it.

When I went into writing Circus of Secrets, I was terrified. The number of elements I had to include, trying to bring things in and justify them...you are exactly right in the fact that I did miss the mark with the Funtime's and their souls. It's something I want to resolve, whether in this story or the next project I've got coming. It was a similar situation to the Toys' in that I wasn't sure how best to handle it. I might have a look around and get some inspiration for them in particular, since it would be a shame not to delve into them at least a little bit in this one.

So, going forward, I'm hoping to get one chapter out a week. I'll let you know if the situation changes.