Hey, everyone. Thanks for stopping by. I hope you're all doing well. I don't have anything to say about this chapter. Everything speaks for itself. Besides, I'll have a lot more to say for the remaining updates.

Thanks to Soviet Fox for reviewing since last time. I appreciate you guys telling me what you think, especially because there won't be many more chances to do that. I'll see you all next time for the battle this entire series has been building to!

Sunday, August 20, 2017, 5:30 PM

Foxy squatted in the back of Mike's car, waiting for June, who stood outside, to give the signal. Her eye poked over the bottom of the window, scanning for any sign of trouble in the late afternoon light. She saw none, but that's why someone inconspicuous - i.e., human - needed to make sure. They'd see better.

Indeed, June slammed the chassis with her hand, creating a muffled thump. Foxy's hook, already resting on the handle, pulled the switch, her feet pushed the door open, and she rolled out of the egress. Scrambled to her feet and sprinted through the open door Mike waited on the other side. Finally took a breath now that she was in the clear. Mike smiled faintly at her daring.

Though she could have briskly walked to the entrance, this might be the last time she ever got to show off. Might as well try to enjoy life while she still could. Even as she thought that, she felt her grin falter. The weight of what needed to happen crashed against the shores of her mind again. The waves got bigger the closer they got to zero hour.

Auric was about to be gone from their lives forever. All they needed to do was survive. Then he'd be dead, and this evil would be vanquished. And not just from their lives. This was for the thousands (at least) of people who he brought nothing but misery to since he first came to Earth in days long gone. This was to avenge them and to make sure Auric couldn't bring that pain to anyone else. And, ideally, they'd find some way to not perish in a pyrrhic victory. She believed they could do it.

Part of her believed that, anyway. It was difficult to describe, like two versions of her were being pulled in opposite directions until one of them inevitably tore apart. One was optimistic, the other, pessimistic. It reminded her of Schrödinger's Cat. She wasn't a quantum physicist (shockingly, since she was definitely smart enough for the job), but from what she understood, sometimes there were multiple things which could happen and were equally "real" - until the event came to pass. Then only one version became the truth, and the other was relegated to a fantasy. She hoped the better world came to pass, for everyone's sake.

The remainder of her siblings came out when June gave the signal. Freddy was already out, and Bonnie and Chica came soon after. Mary was about to emerge, but a figure rounding the cornermade Mike slam the door. Foxy leaned over and peeked out the window to see who it was.

Turned out to be a shaggy homeless man pushing a shopping cart filled with all his possessions through the parking lot. She heard the squeaky wheels through the motel wall. The Pacific Northwest had a large homeless population, or so she'd heard; Whitewater was too small and remote to get many destitute people. Of course they'd prefer to be someplace with resources to hopefully help them - though she doubted it was common for anyone without a roof over their head to reach financial stability.

I guess Phil counts as part of that issue, Foxy thought, even if he wasn't counted by any census or statistician.

Even in their current state, Mike's first instinct was to try and help… even if there was none to be given. Foxy cringed as her husband pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, only to find it empty of all but a few pennies. He spent the last of his cash on the way down for some gas station food for everyone. All he had now was a credit card he needed to be careful about using and the dregs of his bank account. Even if they won, they'd really need to lean on his sister and June for financial support, at least for a while. Or Mike could try to sell his house and hope he got as lucky as June with a buyer.

He sighed and put his wallet away while the guy walked out of sight, unhelped. Her heart also sank a little. She knew they were saving billions of people, but it didn't feel the same as helping one person a tiny amount. Most of those people had not yet been born or lived on other planets, if not other universes. It felt much more distant. Thankfully, they had Sylvia to fill that void - she promised to be more dutiful about giving to people who needed it.

Foxy sighed and scanned the room. She'd stayed in a couple motels over the years when Mike took her and the rest of them on trips, but this place was tacky even by those standards. Cheap carpet with that ubiquitous pattern of intersecting lines, less than an eighth of an inch thick, covered some hard surface, probably old wood. A single flickering lightbulb in the ceiling made a harsh buzzing noise, and dead insects clung to the outside. The sheets on both beds, though clean, were yellowed with age. A potted palm wilted in the corner, uncared for and unloved. Still, she didn't complain. They got what they paid for.

The connecting door swung open as June entered from the other room. Fortunate that they got two adjacent units, since it would have been almost impossible to fit seven of them in one tiny motel room for even one night. They'd take advantage of the extra space, and the extra bathroom for the sake of hygiene.

"Oh my God, this is disgusting!" Chica exclaimed from the toilet in this room, immediately calling that hygiene thing into doubt. Foxy wondered if she even wanted to check, but curiosity won out as she crept to the door frame and peeked around to see the problem. A couple others were behind her, as she knew from Mary's elbow poking into her back.

The bathroom was hideous, with frayed shower curtains that hadn't been replaced since 1990 and cracked tiles, yet Foxy didn't immediately notice whatever was wrong. No black mold, mildew or anything more hazardous than a leaking pipe. But Chica was looking over the bathtub/shower combo, not the rest of the room. Foxy took two steps forward to see over the lip, disliking the slightly sticky feeling of the tile beneath her paws. Then she leaned over.

It was a cockroach. It was two cockroaches. It was five cockroaches. It was more cockroaches than she cared to count. The stench of death and bug shit hit her, and she gagged. She and her sister were transfixed by the size of these bugs, which grew to almost an inch long. They scurried around a dead rat, which must have fallen into the tub and starved because it couldn't scramble up the smooth walls. Another came out of or scurried into the feces-covered drain every few seconds.

They'd seen cockroaches before, of course. Even if the restaurant went above and beyond the health code those days, it was disgusting when Phil was in charge. Bugs in Pirate Cove were the least of her problems. Still saw a few when they went to take out the trash, because they lived in the dumpster. She didn't care as long as they weren't in the building.

But between dozens of these ones and the dead rat, not to mention whatever else lived down the drain… it wasn't something Foxy wanted to deal with on perhaps her last night on Earth. The bathroom was a lost cause.

She gently pulled a morbidly transfixed Chica by the arm, who followed her out of the bathroom and to her friends and siblings, who grimaced at her. They couldn't see into the tub from this angle, though whatever their imaginations came up with was probably worse.

"It's not a dead body. Not a dead human body, anyway," she assured them. Even if it were, they couldn't judge. Mike had a dead human body in his trunk! "I think we should share one bathroom." They could check if they didn't believe her. And Mike would comment at the front desk when he checked out hours before possibly dying.

"Point taken," June said, slamming the door and spraying the gap between it and the floor with a tiny can of air freshener that had been left in the other room - which also had the depressed palm tree, etc. While not supposed to be themed, the trees, tacky blue wall paper and a couple stock reprints of ocean paintings reminded her of being a pirate. Not the exciting kind of pirate, though, but one who really needed to retire to the Davy Jones Home for Elderly Corsairs. She hoped she would never become so boring.

And that was it. They had nothing else to do. Might as well get ready for bed. Speaking of boring, I'm going to bed at six.

As everyone shuffled off, Foxy pulled Mike aside, into a closet, perhaps for the last time. Their backs pressed against opposite walls in the enclosed dark space. Her heart was in her throat as she looked into his scared eyes. Deep down, she was just as terrified. She just did a better job hiding it.

There was so much she wanted to say, even though she'd said it all before. And really, it just boiled down to three words: I love you. She would until the end of time, and Mike would love her right back.

"We've made a great life together," she said with a sniffle, not trying to hold it together anymore. It was just them, at least for a moment. Though she could express how she felt with any of her siblings, she felt more comfortable being her truest self around her husband than anyone else. Not that it was a competition.

"Yeah." That was the first word he said since getting in the car that afternoon. The entire drive occurred in silence. She understood why, because he couldn't raise his voice above a whisper, his throat was closed so tightly. "I j-just w-wish we had more time."

"Me too." Still, she wouldn't have traded the years she spent with Mike for anything. Except, maybe, to get her old life back. Wasn't sure which she would choose in that situation. Thankfully, she didn't need to choose. "No matter what happens, I'll never forget how you saved me. Saved us all."

"Hey, you guys, uh, saved yourselves. Um, I helped, but it was up to you to give yourselves hope and, like, choose to move on." He was right, but he sold himself short again. They never would have worked up that courage if not for someone standing up for them.

It was inevitable that they would be drawn into each other's arms. The two were like magnets, though it was only right to keep these "interactions" away from everyone else. Her siblings didn't need to see her and Mike making out. Let alone right before the most stressful day of their collective -

The door swung open, jolting Foxy away from Mike and making her hit her head on the wall, which she felt crumple slightly under the force of her metal skull. Freddy was outside, looking flustered.

"Sorry," he said. "I wanted to see if there were any extra blankets…" Mike reached up to a hook on the wall that one hung from and tossed it at the bear, who caught it and walked away.

Mike sighed as the door was shut, just letting in what little light came through the slats. It was nice. She almost wished they could remain forever in that world, tiny though it was, to escape their problems. But she was a pirate, and pirates faced their battles head-on, no matter how frightening they may have been.

"Got a bit of a hard head," her husband said. Meant it as a joke, but his voice was so strained it sounded deadly serious. Still, she turned around to find a huge dent in the drywall, along with a few strands of fur wedged in tightly. Good thing nobody was likely to check for damage in the closet. Not like she could ruin things much worse than they already were.

After that, there wasn't much more she could do to delay the inevitable. She heard everyone else congregating in a line for the one good bathroom, after which they'd get into bed for a long, sleepless night. Mike looked at her again, cringing, and she knew it was time to part.

Only until tomorrow.

7:00 PM

Mike's eyes were wide open as he stared at the ceiling. Sleep didn't come for him, and he doubted it did for Bonnie or Freddy, either. The bear stretched out next to the sad palm tree, while the rabbit reclined in front of the 18-inch TV set that was probably older than Mike.

He felt bad, but both needed to sleep on the floor, just like Chica and his wife in the other room. The cheap bed creaked uncomfortably when Freddy went to lay down, and the rest didn't want to risk breaking the furniture. That'd lead to too many uncomfortable questions… assuming they lived through tomorrow. There were humans who weighed similar amounts, relatively rare though they may have been (at least for the moment - America's obesity rate increased every year), so a discrimination or accessibility lawsuit might have been in this place's future. Should have brought air mattresses along with everything else.

He rolled over on the lumpy bed, wishing sleep would come but knowing he would not get any that night. His body crackled with energy. Not the good, productive kind, though. This was the kind that made him want to pace the room all night and hit him with the urge to pee every 15 minutes. Since he wouldn't do that, he instead thought about everything that happened earlier in the day.

Firstly, they came a day beforehand so they didn't have to do a three or four-hour drive tomorrow. Mike barely felt up to driving 10 minutes to Fazbear's Fright. Everyone was somber and grim, which sucked even more energy from him. It wasn't the end of the world, yet it may have been the end of their worlds.

Before leaving Whitewater, they'd rounded up the tapes and burned them in the oven before dumping the ashes outside. There was no practical reason. Didn't really matter if the government found out they were alive after they died (which still might happen once somebody investigated his and June's mysterious disappearance). Instead, it was for sentimentality. To prove that this unpleasant chapter in their lives was about to be put behind them. Then they turned off all the lights, took out the last of the trash and locked the doors, not knowing who, if anyone, would open them again.

Not knowing was the worst part. He rolled over again, facing the windows and seeing hints of the world outside through drawn blinds. Who would live and who would die? Would they be successful, even in death, or would Auric? If he lived, how many more lives would he ruin across timescales unfathomable to humans? Given the scale of what the monster did and planned to do, this may have been one of the most important moments in history, even if the average person on Earth would feel nothing of its effects. But Mike somehow knew that if other cosmic beings were out there, they were watching closely.

He didn't try to boast by feeling that way. He didn't think he was a hero. He was just a man too stubborn to know when to quit and too angry to let the demon keep inflicting pain. A tear dripped down his cheek and dribbled onto the pillow. He didn't blink. Maybe they'd be able to avenge all his victims after everything this thing - monster, abomination, demon, none of these words were harsh enough - did. Maybe Mike should have called him a motherfucker or some actual swear if he was that angry about it. But what did words matter in the end?

They'd get to Fazbear's Fright very early in the morning - right after six - so they had time to set everything up. Also to make sure Phil had everything nailed; he'd need to sit it out if he didn't know the exact words and movements. Mike didn't fully trust Phil - how could he ever - but they had a common foe. Him calling them and agreeing to meet up made Mike realize he changed for the better. In other words, he deserved revenge as much as anyone. After that, the eclipse started just after 10. Jesus, so little time was left. He was reminded of the doomsday clock that tracked how close the world was to nuclear war, except this clock kept inching forward until the inevitable hour, with no chance of turning back.

He didn't know whether they'd win or lose. Live or die. One thing he hadn't thought about until earlier that day which gave him a glimmer of optimism was the fact they'd stacked the deck in their favor. They chose the playing field, understood what they brought to the table and had a guy who knew the battlefield like the back of his hand. Even if Auric explored the place in his astral form (which Mike doubted he bothered with in much detail), he couldn't know the place like Phil did. It gave him a chance to turn the tables on Auric after the abomination had so many advantages in their old "game" - which he still couldn't win! Even with that assurance, though, the pit in his stomach gnawed deeper by the minute.

His conversation with Foxy earlier gave him the strength he needed to see this through instead of fleeing to the ends of the Earth like Jonah. Hmm, maybe that's a story to tell Foxy, if she doesn't already know it. For the sailing and sea monsters, not any religious reason.

Mike tossed and turned for what felt like hours. His thoughts drifted away from what he'd done and toward what he'd never get a chance to do if this was the end. He'd never see his family again. He'd never achieve the high score on the Mortal Kombat arcade machine. He'd never finish the book he wrote with Foxy, or One Piece (if that ever wrapped up). He'd never tell James' mom what really happened.

Well, that last one really wasn't important. But he still remembered that Halloween night all those years ago when he'd met the mother of his best childhood friend, all alone. He got her number for some unrelated reason and then gave it to Foxy… in case she ever wanted to do anything with it, which she emphatically did not. It was for the best, since there was no reason to open an old wound, but he always wondered what would happen if Foxy decided to make that choice. She might not even be alive, for all I know.

Slowly, he ran out of things to think about, and his previous thoughts and worries didn't loop back around to the front of his mind like usual. This left him a hollow shell, motionless on the bed. He barely felt himself breathe. May as well have been comatose, except his eyes were open and he was cognizant of the nothingness in his head. There was nothing to do but stare at the roof and feel his eyes dry out.

And pray. He did that for eternity as he asked God to have mercy on him and his friends - be it in this world or the next. They'd all done their best.

And the night seemed to last forever.

Monday, August 21, 2017, 1:45 AM

With one final step, Auric crossed the threshold into this temple to what he'd wrought. The journey took several days of walking without rest. While he could not feel fatigue, the exertion took a toll on this form of felt and fur. It had torn in a few more places from wild brambles and been coated in mud. Tedious.

A few sensations beyond sight let him differentiate this place from the endless monotony of forests and mountains. The smell of fried food lingered on the air hours after all the guests and employees had returned to their domiciles. Wrappers, sticks and other manner of nature and garbage crunched under his feet as he strode. It all belonged to him, the lord of this domain.

It was not built with the intention to honor him, yet he still considered this operation a shrine dedicated to him, with the proper rituals and rites happening nightly from August to October. He may as well have been a pagan lord of the harvest, like ancient Dagon. People were frightened in the name of things he had done or was alleged to do. It would not have existed without his deeds and the legends pertaining to his feats. He could not help but feel himself smile as he reminisced.

Even in his isolation, he discovered tales of the "scariest place on Earth" from newspapers and tabloids he occasionally perused. He'd visited it a few times in his astral form, even before it was chosen for the ultimate confrontation with his enemies, to observe whether the tales of its terror were true. Obviously, they were not. It was merely pantomime without even the pretense of true terror; laying hands on any man, woman or child was not permitted. He would not have considered it worthy unless at least one guest per night were sacrificed on an altar and had their still-beating heart torn out. Still, an insufficient offering was still an offering.

While he did not truly consider himself a deity, it pleased him to be revered as one. He may as well have been a god compared to these mortals who spent their few days upon this decaying ball of mud doing this or that in a constant state of panic.

He followed the directions he had gone through before incorporeally. Entered one of the so-called haunted houses and took a particular route through its labyrinthine halls, going to places nobody was meant to go. Along the way, he encountered many metal sculptures in human shape, though most had bestial features attached.

Animatronics, they were called. All were frozen, one while it tore the limbs from a prop human, another while it hid cunningly in the darkness, waiting to jump out at whoever triggered its electronic tripwire (though it was surely calibrated to not lunge out far enough to injure, or even touch, a person, lest the operators be bombarded with lawsuits).

All were "dead" without electricity coursing through their wires, which had been deactivated for the night. It was a far cry from his slaves, which had been able to walk unmoored, albeit slowly and clumsily, between being plugged in for several hours. Even the highest-grade commercially available animatronics paled next to the ones Afton commissioned 30 years prior on a drunken whim. It was a testament both to his technological acumen and the fact that this was not a field with much commercial interest at the moment. There seemed to be no genuine demand aside from semi-autonomous military platforms and very basic mobile machines operating as servers in gimmick-filled restaurants - though he supposed Afton de facto invented the latter.

He was reminded of the others, of course. The ones he brought from nonexistence into life, fueled by shards of his own soul. Could have done the same to these with just a little preparation and enough emotional energy to harness. It had been many years since he last performed such a feat, so he had restored the spiritual energy required.

In fact, he previously considered making an entourage for himself to help with the battle ahead. Now, he had just such a chance with the abundance of strong metal in shapes which could move under their own power. It was tempting, if only to mock his enemies. It would have hurt them in a way Auric himself never could to kill some of the only other things like them in existence. But, tempting as it was, he did not. He came to understand after his last few attempts that life was rebellious and unpredictable. Something always soured.

While he could have attempted to create them in such a way that their wills aligned with his own, he already tried that with the TOY animatronics, and it backfired. They were supposed to belong to him, yet they had almost immediately been usurped by another.

Granted, Elizabeth may have been a special case, since she was a human spirit returned from wherever they went after death. She had grown far more powerful, even in her insane, addled state from being resurrected. Even so, Auric found himself helpless over her and her thralls. Though that begged the question of if all humans became powerful once they passed from this world to another (if, indeed, they did at all). The person he brought back had been a mere child when she died, yet she returned with abilities comparable to his own.

The point was that he had not created life since the TOY animatronics, and he would not change that now. Not because he feared rebellion, but because it would be most inconvenient. He'd already added enough freaks to this world. Wretched as it was, it did not deserve more of his trash wandering its dark places. Besides, he was powerful and persistent enough to prevail alone.

One last step, and he was at a door. Beyond was one whose wildest dreams and nightmares he once made true, whom he had not seen in long years. Phillip was not a friend. He could not be; why would they be friends any more than a human be friends with an insect? It was impossible. But, for a moment, he was a useful stooge to support Auric's predilections. Because of that, Phillip was rewarded with a second of happiness that he squandered. It was not Auric's fault the man chose to be an honest fool.

Auric rapped thrice on the threshold, and the resident stirred within.

Said he while opening the way, "Hey, I didn't know you were all - "

He stopped speaking the instant his eyes set upon Auric. It must have caused significant whiplash when he expected to see the people he foolishly still considered family.

"Expecting someone else, perhaps?" Auric mocked, pushing his way inside. It was less of a shove and more of a dodge, really, as his empty body flowed around a solid object like water around stone.

"I - I didn't think you were coming until morning," he whined, turning around without bothering to close the door.

"I thought it prudent to visit beforehand. Is there a problem?" Auric commented, reclining on the stained sofa for emphasis.

The rabbit was too stunned to answer. Auric felt himself frown. That did not bode well for the battle ahead.

He hoped their confrontation would be something he remembered through the ages, which would require both sides to put up a good showing. Certainly, it would be brutal, even with himself as the inevitable victor. He expected this fragile form to be torn asunder after 30 years. That was all right. While it would be unfamiliar to settle into a new body, he managed countless times before and could do so again. Considering the pieces of construction equipment laying around, he'd probably possess a vehicle and plow them over with it. That was how he'd make it memorable. But none of this could occur if his antagonists got cold feet. Perhaps the others were made of sterner stuff.

As Phillip stared at him, only just finding the strength to close his mouth, something occurred to Auric.

It had been about an hour without a flare of fire shooting down his arms and legs. So much time without pain that the fire became notable, even if it was less than a blink for him. Still, he felt smug. He overcame such sensations with the tenacity to defeat everything else. It turned out to be insignificant, even if it agonized him in the moment.

He wondered if it might have something to do with the alignment of this planet, its moon and its star, to happen in only a few hours. That thought had occurred to him after staring at the moon earlier that night. Celestial phenomena governed the laws by which he operated, and he had become one with Earth's, having been here for so long. He'd adapt to those of the next world he visited after a few centuries there.

Eclipses were uncommon on this planet, even by his standards, with only one or two happening per year, with most happening over small segments of uninhabited ocean. Total eclipses, the kind that was about to happen, were even rarer. He had never been in the direct path of one. Even one such as he got to experience new things on occasion. The question was whether he would remember it, as he asked about everything else.

"It seems that there is no problem. Good," he said, continuing his invasion of the man's residence. Phillip could or would not stand up to him, so Auric had no reason to back off. Phillip tried to choke out something but could not. He was in shock or consumed by some traumatic flashback. Auric couldn't care less. The important thing was that, if Phillip insisted on being a pushover until the end, Auric would push.

2:00 AM

Phil felt many emotions course through him as Auric sat on his couch after breaking into his house. His more prominent thought was that a lot of his stuff would likely be frozen solid by the time morning came. Would his TV and game consoles work anymore?

He realized how idiotic that was to think about, since he would likely be dead in a few hours. But this room contained all his possessions, and the idea of them all being destroyed upset him. Auric already threatened his life; the monster trashing all his stuff added insult to injury.

Still, he tried to keep cool for the time being. Wanted to put his "guest" at ease to reduce any suspicion Auric may have had. While Auric couldn't read minds, the demon wasn't stupid. If Phil acted the wrong way, it might tip him off to the fact this was all a trap instead of a desperate group's suicidal death wish. The good news was that he was completely full of himself, so he paid almost no attention to anything besides what happened to him at any moment. It should have been easy enough to keep him in the dark. Phil didn't take it on faith that he would, though. In any case, Auric was busy entertaining himself at Phil's expense.

"I hope you have been doing well for yourself, Phillip. It looks as if you have had great success. This place is a mansion," he spoke. The venomous sarcasm in his voice was palpable despite the fact it sounded like static interference. "How has your bachelor lifestyle been treating you? Do you think your parents would be proud of where you are now? Are you happy? I want to know it all." Before Phil got a word in, Auric said, "And you're still wearing that. You've worn it even longer than I've worn this shell. Don't you think that's pathetic?"

He looked down at his purple jacket, then to Auric's golden body. One was in rough but passable shape thanks to dozens of loving repairs. The other was just as ugly and decayed as the thing wearing it. "At least I keep mine looking presentable, you bastard!"

Phil was shocked by the malice Auric spoke with. When they first met, Auric at least pretended to be somewhat pleasant in his erudite manner of speaking, even if his actions readily betrayed his true self. Now, it was on open display; he seemed proud to put the worst version of himself out there, not even buried underneath the thinnest layer of civility.

Phil didn't think the monster changed, though. It was just that Phil no longer had anything to offer except an amusing death, so Auric had no reason to provide any respect whatsoever. Phil didn't necessarily mind - if there was any doubt they did the wrong thing by trying to kill Auric, those fears were immediately dispelled. He would never change and could never see that other people mattered more than his dark desires. And that pissed Phil off.

He straightened his back and took two steps forward. His synthetic veins surged with adrenaline or whatever his version of that was. Auric asked him a couple minutes earlier if there was a problem. There was, and now Phil was brave enough to do something about it. He'd never stood up to Auric when he was human; in the hopes of having a loving family, he gave the monster everything he had - including his soul. But he would be damned if he went two lifetimes without sticking up for himself.

"Get out. Get the fuck out of here." Auric slowly twisted his head around - all the way around, like that girl in The Exorcist. Just more proof that he really was the fiend he appeared to be. His frown showed that he hadn't expected Phil to do this, which made him surge with even more cockiness. Felt like he could punch through a mountain. "I'm going to kill you in a few hours, you worthless son of a bitch. Until then, get out of my house and this park. Then you can drag your worthless gilded ass back here to die."

"It seems you've finally grown a backbone. I did not ever believe you would, considering how often you rolled over for me," he muttered. His head spun back the right way, and it was now his body that leaned over the back of the seat. "I could possess you at this moment, you know," he added with a wolfish grin.

"What?"

"Your new existence is of my creation. You are part of me now, and my essence is what sustains you against the forces of natural order telling you that you should not be." Phil somewhat remembered Auric explaining how he did that with the other animatronics, but it had been so long. "Because of that connection, I have the ability to infect your mind and become one with you in the small hours of the morning."

All his bravado suddenly went out the window. Phil somehow never thought about that possibility, probably because he'd never been near Auric during the night hours after he became Springtrap. But now he was. It took all his willpower to keep his knees from knocking together. Judging by how the other animatronics kept killing for years despite hating it, nothing could be done to break free from his control unless the sun came up. The entity in front of him could do all sorts of horrible things to him, a few of which he elaborated on.

"I could make you snap your own neck right now. Or, if I wanted something more dramatic, have you hang yourself in front of the entrance for your pathetic 'family' to witness as they enter." Each word shook Phil's resolve more and more. Part of him wanted to throw himself down and beg forgiveness, but he stood strong. Phil couldn't stop him if Auric wanted to do those things. All he could do was try to be brave. That was what his family would do. "These are just a few concepts. We have four hours to figure out something truly dramatic."

He took a moment to gauge Phil's reaction, which was apparently not as fearful as he wanted. The demon sighed deeply.

"But I will refrain. Not out of any sympathy for you, but because I want you and your allies to be at your best for our confrontation. That cannot happen if you are already dead before the challenge."

"Then get out."

Auric did as he commanded, standing up and marching for the door. When he got there, though, he turned once more. The golden dots he had for eyes seemed to burn through his body, but Phil refused to flinch.

"I gave you the family you craved and a new life to spend with them, yet still you are ungrateful. I will endeavor to make your demise particularly agonizing." He walked out the door, not bothering to close it behind him. His light footsteps quickly vanished, not echoing at all thanks to the acoustics.

Phil suddenly became lethargic as the significance of his actions hit him. Still, he questioned if this meant anything. It didn't matter that he won their pissing match. That was the undercard fight. The real deal was in eight hours, and he felt much more bearish about it. Why can't I be happy for one second?

Maybe because it just wasn't in him.

With that, he slumped over on the couch to think about everything that had happened and would happen, feeling the icy spot Auric left for him. Speaking of Auric, Phil wasn't out of the woods with the whole possession threat. If he changed his mind, the monster could come right back and do it. Hell, he may have been close enough even if he did leave the park instead of just standing outside all night like Phil suspected he'd do.

Maybe Auric fucked with him, and Phil's unique creation meant he couldn't be possessed like the rest. Phil didn't know. He couldn't know. All he knew was that the next few hours, already the longest of his life, would suddenly increase tenfold. He'd check the time every few seconds until the magic hour of 6 AM rolled around, at which point he could breathe a sigh of relief that his life was saved. At least until 10 AM that same day, when the eclipse would come around. He had an island of four hours of relative safety.

He fell, not even closing his eyes. If these really were the last few hours of his life, he couldn't think of a worse way to spend them.