Le Tigre
Deceptacon

Artist: _mrs.vader

Artist: Whistle Person

Artist: Yeet_Flan

Artist: Blue_Palagirl_

Artist: Deathicus-Sling

Artist: NANI?!?!

Sorry for disappearing I promise I'm not dead

Also sorry for last chapter's cliffhanger haha not rlly. Promise no more cliffhangers

Forewarning this is not proofread lmao I have zero time for proofreading these days

Michael was gone.

Sometime tonight, and I didn't know who or when, I was going to murder somebody for taking him from me.

I was furious - not because of Michael's choice (he'd always been a self-sacrificing martyr, whether he believed himself to be or not) but because we'd ended up in a position where he needed to make that decision, where it was between us and an infected animatronic, and it was between him and I. Except it never was me, it was always him, and Michael had made sure of that since the day we met.

I was angry but I was also utterly distraught, because we always ended up in this position. Was there no way to break the pattern? Were we cursed to continue this repetition of sacrificing and grieving and fearing of being alone so much that it hurt? Because it hurt - I was hurting.

But mostly I was really, really fucking angry.

  It was the type of anger that had my gut boiling and gaze turning red. The type of anger that mitigated my bodily pain and controlled me. It was anger that had me gripping my crowbar like a bat and striding head first into the endo-infected halls with only a splutter of fear to the raging inferno of fury that compelled me.

  We were getting out of here, all three of us. If I had to claw my way through robots until my fingers snapped and my arms fell off, I would. I wasn't just determined; I was nose-curling, brow-crunching, breath-panting; I was rage in a corporal form.

  Gregory paced beside me, half-jogging to keep up with my limping, swift walk. He glanced at me occasionally, but something in my set jaw and burning eyes seemed to keep him from speaking. He was probably feeling all the despair for the group of us; watching over our shoulders as Freddy got dragged away by Moon into an unknown location. Michael's animatronic body hadn't lasted even a minute - but it was enough. It was enough for us to get away and for my anger to be stoked. I was a poked cat.

  "Where are we going?" Gregory's quiet voice finally asked. His hand gripped at my shirt ever since he watched Freddy power down, and he didn't look like he was letting go of me anytime soon.

  I tried to control my anger before replying. Gregory already dealt with enough, he didn't need to have me snapping at him, too. After I was sure my breathing was calmed and I could speak normally, I answered. "Parts and Services."

  Gregory glanced up at me with a puzzled expression. "But Freddy isn't with us."

  I briefly closed my eyes with a hurt inhale. No. No, he wasn't. But I refused to let the notion of it shatter my - rather admittedly - brittle resolve.

  "We might be able to find something for his battery down there," I said. "I don't know about you, but I can't lug a seven-foot robot to a charging chamber. And my usual strong-armed friends are... not currently friendly."

  Gregory's face twisted with a troubled frown. The halls creaked and echoed with the far-off clamourings of staff bots and Glamrocks, hunting us down like mice in a maze. The little boy walked into my back when I stopped suddenly at our next corner.

  My grip tightened over the crowbar. Gregory cursed under his breath in annoyance and rubbed his nose.

  "How strong are you feeling, Gregs?" I asked. He poked his head around myself and said 'oh' very softly. Before us were a pair of endos. Their purple optics snapped to us - the both of them stumbling around, slow and zombie-like.

  "Normal," Gregory said. He turned his eyes up to me. "How about you?"

  I wickedly grinned. "I've been waiting for my turn."

  The great thing about crowbars was the fact that, with enough force, anything steel was a bitch of a melee weapon. And bitches of melee weapons could disengage even robots if you knew where to aim.

  Maybe this is why Michael taught me robotics, a part of me thought while ripping away the delicate innards of an endo's CPU with the curved end of the crowbar. The endo spasmed, fell to one knee, and reared backwards when I bashed the crowbar through its metallic skull. I jammed it in, again and again. Just in case I ever ended up in this position.

  Maybe he knew. Maybe he had a feeling. Michael had always been the protector, but that didn't mean I wouldn't fight for us, either. The endos had me terrorised, plagued my nightmares after my near-death experience; but I'd just been through so many near-death experiences in the past handful of hours that their attempt back then felt pitiful. All they had on me was numbers.

  Gregory, who was proving that his feat of strength in the Daycare wasn't just a stroke of luck, damaged the endo after him by batting at its head with his heavy-duty torch. The endo's face was so crumpled beneath his attacks that it started to resemble that of a ball of tinfoil. Shortly after, it collapsed, twitching on the floor.

  Gregory glanced up at me. I gave him a thumb's up. I was nailing this parental guardian thing.

  "That was easy," Gregory said after the two endos had been taken to the ground. He was barely out of breath but I was puffing, gasping for air through chest-stinging inhales. I stared at him in bafflement - was I unfit or was he just insane?

  "You won't say that when there's twenty after you at once," I said between huffs. I patted Gregory's shoulder as I passed. "Let's go."

  Gregory returned to being quiet as we continued on our way to Parts and Services. I knew vaguely what I needed - an extra battery to jumpstart Freddy, or one of those carts to somehow wheel him into the mechanic's station. My knowledge was limited but enough... hopefully.

The challenge that really worried me was where to find Freddy. Where did Moon drag him off to? And, on a completely different note, was Sun okay? The thought of the peppy half of the Daycare Attendant being stuck behind Moon's invasive and cruel AI had my fury mounting - Sun must've been so scared. He sounded scared just before he changed.

I set my jaw. I was exhausted and sore and reeling from taking down one of those endos, but I still had the overwhelming urge to punch something. I felt useless without Michael. I didn't know what I was doing!

"Y/n..?" Gregory hesitantly asked, pulling me from my snarling thoughts. He could taste my anger in the air; dust and iron, like old blood. His voice was meek. "Are you angry at Freddy for not letting you handle Moon?"

  I glanced down at him in shock. He shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet my gaze, and I realised at that moment that my furious determination seemed to be rubbing off on him in a way I never intended to. Of course he'd pick up on my prickling emotions. The kid was some sort of empath.

  "No," I reassured. My stride faltered, then stopped walking and I knelt to his height, and the bated look on Gregory's face made guilt blossom in my chest. "No, buddy, I'm not angry at Freddy. I'm angry at the situation that made him have to take that decision."

  Gregory nodded hesitantly. His eyes softened with relief. He seemed to want to say something more, mouth opening and closing like a fish on land, and I waited. He stared at the side before finally gathering the courage.

  "What did he mean by him being dead?" Gregory quietly asked. "And what did... what did you mean about being alone again?"

  I exhaled a long, shaky sigh. I knew he'd ask me that. I would be an idiot to expect that Gregory wouldn't pick up on what kind of topics our disagreement arose - he was a smart kid. But, as smart as he was, this story was probably still too much for him.

  "It's complicated," I settled on saying. "And it's a long story. A really sad one."

  Gregory watched me carefully. "Were you hurt? Were you... left alone? Like me?"

  My breath caught. My gaze dropped to his shirt, searching through the words he said and the sense it made.

  "You know," Gregory quietly began, "someone once told me that it's okay to cry." He placed a tentative hand on my shoulder. It hovered meekly before sinking down onto my ruined shirt - a reassuring touch he'd picked up on from both Michael and I.

  I felt as though I'd been backhanded by my sorrow, tasted slightly with appreciation. Tears welled in my eyes too fast for me to stop and I closed them, smiling through the pain, exhaling in amusement through my nose.

  "Dammit, kid." I grinned with a shake of my head. "Don't use my own words against me."

  "No takesies-backsies," Gregory declared. He tugged on my arm impatiently and he suddenly back to his usual self. "Let's go find something to help Freddy with. Or - Michael, I guess. They're both weak names."

  I snorted and rose. "Coming from a Gregroy."

  Gregory looked me up and down, feigning being unimpressed. "Coming from a Y/n?"

  I smiled fondly at him. He's such a little shit.

  Gregory led the way to Parts and Services, hiding from staff bots and sticking to the shadows when needed. We scampered down a flight of stairs and held just before the corner, listening to any potential roaming robots. When we were sure it was clear, we stepped out into the hallway and continued our journey.

"Can I ask you a question?" Gregory's voice was quiet in the silence of the hall, but earnest. He was still holding onto my arm.

  "Go ahead."

  "You're in love with Freddy, right?" Gregory asked. "And he's in love with you?"

  I fell silent as terror and embarrassment almost shot me straight through the ceiling. I turned my face away when Gregory glanced up at me, if only to hide my horrified, blushing cheeks. I knew what it looked like - a woman in her mid-thirties in love with a robot. He probably thought I was a lunatic.

  "It's okay," Gregory said. "I heard what people say around here. You don't have to tell me."

  I almost forgot that he'd been living in the Pizzaplex for months. And, really, I shouldn't ask. But; "what did they say?" Curiosity won out.

  Gregory hesitated, as if considering how to answer. He finally settled on telling the truth. "That it's weird and unnatural."

  That stung. It was also entirely unsurprising. Dennis told me rumours had been spreading. "And what do you think?"

  Gregory thought hard for a minute. "... I think people should mind their own business."

  A smirk tugged at my lips. "You're a pretty smart kid, you know that?"

  Gregory merely shrugged, further proving that children were leagues better than adults. He wasn't done with questioning me yet.

  "Freddy's not a normal animatronic, right?" Gregory asked. "That's why you call him Michael."

  I released an exhale. Somehow, I knew we'd end up here. "Do you... believe in ghosts?" I asked.

  "I think so," Gregory said thoughtfully. His amber eyes drifted to the floor. "When I went below to escape the rabbit-lady, I met a girl down there. I think she was a ghost."

  An instant chill ran up my spine. A girl in the bowels of the Pizzaplex - I knew exactly who Gregory was referring to. The confirmation that someone else had met her reassured me that she wasn't just a figment of my imagination; and yet, the confirmation terrified me, too.

  My voice was slow with caution. "You met a girl down there?"

  "Yeah." Gregory looked at me. "Have you met her, too?"

  "Briefly," I said, voice disjointed. I tried not to lose myself to the memories, to the terror of that moment. "What did she talk to you about?"

  Gregory shrugged. "I'm not sure. Something about family and helping lost souls." He picked mindlessly at a thread on his sweatshirt's sleeve. "She said her name was Elizabeth."

I felt my veins run truly cold. "Elizabeth?" I echoed. "Her name was Elizabeth?"

"Yeah." Gregory gave me an odd look. "Why? Do you know her?"

I felt lightheaded. That was Lizzy who spoke to me, back when I went exploring a little further than I should've. That was Elizabeth Afton, the accidental killer of Michael, the little girl lost to her own father's sick creation. I felt my stomach twist with the overwhelming need to vomit.

  Lizzy wasn't gone like how Michael had hoped, released and at peace. She was still here, still as stuck as her brother.

"I don't," I whispered. "But Michael does." 

Gregory stared at me long and hard as we walked down the hallway. His eyes slowly widened as the pieces clicked into place. "Michael's a ghost."

I nodded slowly, head elsewhere. How was I supposed to break this to Michael? If I ever found him, that is, and if I could get him back online.

"That's the sad story, isn't?" Gregory asked. "You were in love with Michael and he died. Then you found him again."

I pulled myself out of my brief crisis just enough to send him a small smile. "Something like that."

Voices up ahead made us slow to a stop. We were finally outside Parts and Services, though it seemed already occupied. Gregory crept forward and peered through one of the windows leading into the room and stiffly backed into me.

"What is it?" I asked quietly.

"It's her," Gregory said, audibly upset. "It's the guard that hurt you."

A strange mix of apprehension and indignation coiled through me. My head gave a painful throb. "Vanessa."

"She's in there with Freddy."

My anger was abruptly replaced with concern. "Is he okay?"

Gregory grimaced and looked up at me. "He's... awake."

"Let me have a peek." Gregroy moved aside to allow me to look over the edge of the window frame and stare into the Parts and Services room. Vanessa was stood before its chamber and in it on the gurney was Freddy - Freddy, with a detached head.

"Fuck," I said under my breath. My grip tightened over my crowbar. I could just vaguely hear their conversation, from Vanessa's tightly-voiced snarling to Freddy's bright-fake optimism. He was playing dumb. Good.

I pressed my ear against the wall.

"... I found him earlier and locked him up in Lost and Found."

"That is great news," Freddy said. "He can be returned to his parents."

"He can't. Turns out, there's no record of him." Vanessa exhaled sharply, stressed. "And he escaped."

My brows furrowed. What was she doing, playing innocent? Did she think I was still under the influence of that weird VR-headset dream state thing? Was she trying to cover her tracks so Freddy wouldn't report her for - at the very least - assault?

My stomach twisted. If our running theory that Vanessa was the rabbit lady then I was staring at the person who'd killed eight children already, and was aiming for number nine beside me.

"How unfortunate," Freddy said. "If you re-attach my head, I will go look for him now."

Vanessa laughed shortly.

"His name is Gregory. You know how I know that? His Fazwatch kept repeating it - in your voice; 'Gregory? Are you there? Gregory?'"

I glanced back at Gregory. His wide eyes dropped to mine. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the look on my face told him enough. He began to anxiously shift his weight between his feet.

"Vanessa, all the Fazwatches sound like me," Freddy reasoned. "It is the default voice option."

Vanessa hissed an annoyed sigh. She wasn't buying his excuses.

"If you're part of this, you're scrap," she warned. "Monty will run the shows until Parts and Service can slap your casing on a new Endo." I gritted my teeth at her threat. "Hang out here for a while. I gotta find that kid."

"Vanessa! Do not leave me like this!"

"Back! Back, away from the door!" I shoved Gregory into the shadows. He stumbled over his shoes with a surprised yelp before scampering onwards, hauling me along with him. We managed to hide around the corner just as Vanessa exited Parts and Services, muttering to herself in a voice that didn't sound quite right.

We waited there for a few long minutes just in case she turned back. When nothing happened and the sound of her footsteps disappeared, Gregory shoved past me and all but threw himself to open the doors to Parts and Services.

"Freddy!" he cried.

"Gregory." Michael breathed his name in relief. His blue eyes switched to me when I entered and the relief turned palpable. "Y/n. I'm so glad to see you both."

"Likewise." My legs felt wobbly now that I had him back in my sights - but my chest seized at the same time. How was I going to tell him about Lizzy?

Gregory tried to pry open the doors to the station Freddy was locked in and sent me a helpless look. "How do we open it?"

"Hold on, kiddo." I forced my jello legs to take me towards the operating console and unlocked the doors. Gregory slipped inside as soon as they slid open.

Gregory held himself back from launching into a hug, staring at Freddy's detached head apprehensively. "What'd they do to you?"

"Routine maintenance," he answered. "I am functioning much more better... now. Hm. Grammar function error." He sent us a sheepish look. "Perhaps I am still not at peak performance."

"No kidding," I said, staring at the exposed wires from beneath his robotic skull. "Like hell Vanessa would completely fix you. She's not stupid."

Gregory peered up Freddy's neck and tilted his head, staring at the unattached wires with curiosity. I bit my lip as I surveyed the rest of him - he was still dented and grimy, but at least his battery seemed to have been recharged.

Freddy looked intensely uncomfortable as we looked him over. "Could you... reattach my head?"

"I dunno..." I said slowly. "I think I prefer you like this."

"Y/n."

I smiled dryly. "Kidding. Give me a second to find some tools."

The cylinder we were in had an automated maintenance machine. But I wasn't ever taught how to use it, so I had to fall back to good old hard work and elbow grease.

"Careful," Michael warned while I clambered into the gurney by his shoulder. "My CPU is sensitive."

"Just like surgery, I know," I said impatiently as I stood before him with a pair of pliers and some electrical tape. "Now shut up and let me concentrate."

Gregory explored the place while I carefully slotted the endoskeleton of his neck back into the crevice of his sternum and reattached the wires. Every sudden sound had me flinching. If we were suddenly ambushed, we'd be quickly cornered in the maintenance station.

"There's so much tech stuff in here," Gregory said. I twisted two copper wires together and secured them with some tape. "Is there anything I could use to stop the other bots?"

"Bright lights in the eyes cause us to briefly malfunction," Freddy answered. "I suppose a Fazerblaster or a FazCam could work."

"Where do I get one?"

"You can win a Fazerblaster in Fazerblast," he answered. "Chica normally gives FazCams out for birthdays. There might be some in her green room."

"All done," I said. I patted his cheek before sliding off and landing on the floor with a grimace.

His blue eyes regarded me gratefully as he sat up. "Thank you, superstar."

"Hey!" Gregory poked his head back inside the maintenance station with a frown. "I thought I was your superstar."

Freddy looked stressed. "I- uh..."

I rolled my eyes amusedly. "I think we have bigger things to worry about. Let's try the elevators at the back."

Gregory crossed his arms with a grumble but followed us towards the back of Parts and Services without any further grievances. The only elevator that was working was Roxy's.

"This entire place is falling to pieces," I muttered after pushing the button for the elevator to retrieve us. "Either that or rabbit-lady's being a piece of work."

"Or both," Gregory unhappily suggested.

When the rattling elevator finally slid open, the three of us stepped inside. To my relief, Freddy was no longer walking lopsidedly to make up for his draining power, though his face still held a look of worry. I couldn't blame him. This wasn't exactly an un-worriable situation.

The doors to Roxy's backroom opened. Freddy's hand stopped me from walking out and I sent him a confused expression. He held a finger to his lips. Then I heard it;

Sobbing. Someone was crying. Roxy was crying.

I stared out at the doorway with a small frown. I'd never heard Roxy cry, and virus-infected or not, the sound broke my heart. Beside me, Gregory clambered into Freddy's chest.

"Where are you going?" Freddy asked when I went to walk off. He grabbed my wrist with a startled look.

"She's crying," I insisted. "It's Roxy, I can't just-"

He was already shaking his head. "That's not Roxy, Y/n."

"But-"

"Y/n, please," he begged. "Do not engage with her. It's not Roxy any more."

I frowned at the door but didn't resist Michael's grip. I spent too long with the Glamrocks to turn away when one of them was upset, but what else could I do? I saw how vicious the virus made her.

I closed my eyes and stressfully wiped a hand down my face. I hated this. I hated being caught like this; being unable to help my friends. I felt so useless and disenchanted. By god, I was going to murder William if it was the last thing I do.

"Carefully," Michael warned as he crept us towards Roxy's room. He made sure to be between the infected animatronic and I. "Maybe she will not see us."

We edged out into Roxy's room. The bright, neon lights were an assault against my eyes, so used to the dimness of the maintenance halls, that I squinted them shut and relied on Freddy to walk me through. Another peal of wailing had my gaze snapping open and jumping towards the sound.

"I'm not a loser." Roxy sat at her vanity, untangling her hair with rough strokes of her claws and sobbing tearlessly. "Don't be a loser! Get back out there!"

I held Freddy's hand tighter and bit my bottom lip. Roxy turned to us suddenly with a snarl. My heart stopped.

"Freddy, get out of my room!"

He began to walk us faster. "I'm going, I'm going."

The door slid open. Rockstar Row greeted us, and Vanessa roamed it with her flashlight, checking any potential hiding places. I held my breath.

"Why? Why?" Roxy continued to cry behind us. I glanced back and found her staring forlornly at her reflection. Part of her jaw was misaligned, crooked from bumping into something - probably while giving chase. "It's not your fault. That kid's just lucky."

  A sickened sensation washed over me. How could she be so much like herself, but also be nothing at all like Roxy? I was never around for her insecure meltdowns, but I'd heard the horror stories from her handler, Gabbie.

There wasn't much I could do to help. The thought had my chest feeling heavy, as though someone had deposited a dumbbell inside my rib cage.

Freddy and I snuck past Vanessa, following the shadows to Chica's green room. It was devoid of the chicken, so we shut the door and set Gregory out while we searched for a Faz Cam.

"There's nothing here!" Gregory complained. He turned back to us with a disgruntled frown and a cross of his arms. "Now what?"

Freddy straightened from his searching spot with a sigh. I looked over from the vanity. We were both empty handed, too.

"Now we have just one option left," Freddy said gravely. "Fazerblast."

Gregory hung his head back with a groan. "How long does it take to get there?"

"Not long," I assured. "It's just the level above, beside the atrium."

Gregory, Freddy and I sneakily dashed to the elevator and took it to the second level. We breathed a sigh of relief; while we didn't know where Chica and Monty roamed, at least we had left Roxy and Vanessa in Rockstar Row. The familiar sight of the game's entrance did little to soothe me.

  "There is one thing you must know," Freddy gravely said as we ignored the stationary bot giving a speech on safety within the arena. The bot watched us go, slightly indignant at being ignored. "Access to retrieving a fazerblaster is dependant upon a point-based system. It is inaccessible otherwise."

  Gregory spared me a confused look. I stopped walking and stared at Freddy, aghast.

  "Wait - are you saying that we have to win the game?" I asked incredulously. "Can't we just take the guns and walk back out?" 

  "I wish it were that easy," he sighed. We entered the chambers that held the guns. "The doors lock behind us once we set foot within the arena. With the current state that I am in, I cannot override them."

"Ugh! You're kidding me!" Gregory complained. "I'm already fighting just to stay alive!"

  "Tell me about it," I muttered, picking up a plastic gun. "Nothing we can do about it, I guess - except to kick butt."

Gregory grumpily grabbed a gun. He eyed the toy in his grasp with narrowed eyes and aimed it at me. He pulled the trigger. I frowned.

"Not the one to be shooting, kiddo," I said.

Gregory turned it to Freddy, who only had a split second to realise what was going on before the trigger was nudged and the toy gun went 'pew!' The bear reared back with a glitched-out cry and cradled his face.

  Gregory dropped the gun with a startled gasp. "I'm sorry!" he blurted.

"Are you okay?" I asked hurriedly before breaking into an uncontrollable laugh. Freddy glared at me from between his fingers. "I'm not- I'm not laughing!" Another round of giggles had me slapping a hand over my mouth.

"Looks like laughing, sounds like laughing..." he unhappily mumbled as he rightened himself. Gregory began to snicker quietly.

"No, no-" I snorted from behind my palm. "It's the surprise giggles! You know how I get the surprise giggles." Straddling the edge of hysteria from being hunted down certainly didn't help.

Freddy narrowed his blue eyes at me, though they held no malice. He glanced between Gregory and I, trying and failing to hold our amusement. A small smile twitched on the edges of his muzzle.

What a sight, what a sound; laughter in the maws of death. A shining light in the darkness. I could still feel William's ghost lingering in the back of my mind but I tried not to think about him. Seeing Gregory laughing and Freddy smiling made everything seem okay, if only for the briefest of moments. It gave me a little reminder, a glimpse of what we were all fighting for.

"Let's go," Freddy said huffily, though his voice was inexplicably warm.

  "At least we know the guns work," I said. Gregory's next laugh was even louder.

  "Quiet," Freddy ordered. I met Gregory's eyes and fell into another round of the giggles. Freddy sighed in exasperation as he herded us through the doors into the arena, still snickering and snorting.

  Gregory forged ahead, leading the way through the neon-lit maze. Freddy and I followed behind, each with our guns half-raised. Fazerblast wasn't necessarily a hard game to beat - Gregory could easily conquer it himself - it was just a waste of energy and time.

  My spiel of amusement dampened further the longer we wandered in silence. I had to tell Michael about his sister's soul, but I didn't know how. Any way I broke the news, he'd be hurt. But keeping this information from him? That would hurt him worse.

  "Mike." My voice came out quieter than I wanted it to but his robot hearing picked it up, anyway. He hummed. "Gregory said something to me before..."

  Freddy's gaze turned to me when my resolve faltered and my sentence trailed off. His questioning look made me avoid his face and swallow deeply. My stomach churned with reluctance.

  "What is it?" he gently implored. His footfalls came to a stop. "Y/n?"

  I stopped too, staring at the floor. My stomach churned. "... he mentioned the ghost downstairs." 

  "The one that spoke to you?"

  I nodded. I still couldn't met his eyes. His worry grew, becoming palpable. It clashed against my anxiety like the ocean's waves against a rock. A fogginess began to grow behind my eyes, like mist in a dense, rainy forest. It began to cloud my vision.

  I staggered. A horrible sense of wrongness had nausea crawling up my throat. William's presence surged, sparking and thundering like an electrical storm. My legs gave out from beneath me.

  "Y/n!" Michael cried in alarm. He caught my head just before it could hit the floor. Gregory bounded over with a look of worry. "Y/n? What's wrong?"

  Every injury I'd procured over the past few hours blared with pain. My breath released in a short gasp, my vision blurred. My wounds felt as though somebody was twisting a knife in each of them.

  "Do you really think you can just ignore me?"

  Gregory stumbled back with a push from Freddy's hand. They both watched me with weary eyes. It seemed that I was not the only one who could hear William.

  His cruel voice leaked from me as though my body were nothing more than a speaker. I shivered at the feeling - of speaking without wanting to, saying words that weren't my own.

  "Michael. You can't win," William continued. "Give up now and I will grant you the mercy of a painless death. I'll even let your friends walk out of here. Otherwise-"

  My body drew up as if it were on a string. My head snapped to the side, straining my neck just on this side of too-far. A wave of pain made me so dizzy that I couldn't even cry out. Something in my spine popped.

  "No!" Michael yelled. Gregory sobbed my name.

  "Do you see your choice, my boy?" William sneered from behind my lips. The invisible force turned my head a little further and this time I did cry - a horrible, desperate shout that ripped my throat. "Give me your soul and I won't take hers."

  Michael drew himself up, resigned and accepting. Gregory hung behind him, peering from around his waist. I had just enough awareness to realise the look on Freddy's face.

  "Don't!" I snapped. I glared at Michael from the side of my eyes, bloodshot and blurry. "Don't you dare."

  William cackled. I heard it from my voice and inside my head; it was all around me, encircling and taunting. "The decision is yours."

  The invisible force released me and I tipped forward. Freddy dove and caught me just in time, stoically silent while I gasped for breath against his chest. My fingers clawed at his arms with effort. I trembled. I didn't realise that William could kill me just like that, whenever he so desired. The thought had me trembling more.

  "... what was that?" Gregory shakily asked.

  It took a few beats before Michael could answer. "A ghost."

  "A bad one, though, right?" the kid hesitantly asked. "'Cause you're a good ghost."

  Freddy rose his head. "How did you..?" then his voice fell away. He was too distracted to care about how Gregory realised that Freddy Fazbear was being piloted by a spectre.

  "I'm fine," I croaked. I sat up and rubbed my neck with a wince. I didn't like to think how close to death I was - just an inch more, and I'd be gone. Surprisingly, I was already numb to the idea.

  "You two need to get out of here," Freddy said gravely. "It is me that William is after."

  I shook my head before grimacing at the bolt of pain the movement caused me. "No. No way."

  "We're not leaving you!" Gregory gripped his gun so tightly that his knuckles went white. His determined expression only barely betrayed his fear. "We're a team."

  "We'll figure it out," I agreed. I looked at my two boys and felt my terror recede. "We've come this far."

  Freddy shook his head. "How are you not scared?"

  "The only thing that scares me anymore is losing you," I answered. I glanced at Gregory. "Both of you."

  Gregory nodded earnestly.

  "You are stubborn," Freddy said forlornly. "Can you not see that I am the same? Losing you would end me."

  "Then we're at an impasse," I said shortly. Freddy's weary gaze drifted away, heavy with grief. I grabbed my crowbar, stood, teetered a little, before balancing myself and holding out my hand for Freddy to take.

"Come on," I said. "We've got a game to win."

He stared at my outstretched hand before slowing resting it in my own. His palm swamped mine, a comically mismatched pair, and he stood. The dark presence of William prickled at the back of my neck. I squeezed Freddy's hand. He didn't let go. Neither did I.

I nodded to Gregory. "Lead the way, kiddo."

Gregory hesitated, taking an extra second to assess me with a scrutinised look - to make sure I really was okay. My injuries throbbed with fresh pain but I didn't let it make me waver. I could rest when the night was over and we were safe.

Satisfied, Gregory turned on his Freddy-themed light-up sneakers and forged ahead. He shot down the enemy staff bots with impressive accuracy.

"You make it so hard to protect you," Michael muttered, just quiet enough as to avoid Gregory's ears. "I have lived my life, Y/n. You still have all of yours."

"To do what?" I asked. "To go home to an empty house?"

He winced. "Your house would be empty either way. I am stuck here."

"But at least I have you when I'm here," I countered. I turned my eyes up to him, desperate for him to see the determination in my eyes. I clenched my crowbar tighter. "Mike, stop being the hero. You've sacrificed enough. You don't have to do this alone."

"But at least when I do this alone, you are safe," Michael argued.

I let out a single, emotionless laugh. "I don't want to be safe."

"But-"

"Stop, just- stop it!" With my hand still in his, I yanked him to a halt. He looked back in shock while I shook my head in disbelief. "Jesus, Mike, don't you understand?" I tangled my fingers through his, eyes searching blue. "I would walk through fire for you."

Freddy opened his mouth to retort but failed to speak. His jaw shut with a clench of teeth. Ahead, Gregory was taking down the small army of alien-dressed robots, totally unaware of our heated conversation.

My gaze dropped to our intertwined hands. "I'm not going anywhere, so... stop trying to push me away. You've been doing it all night."

Freddy's tense shoulders fell. He released a low exhale, grip slackening. His eyes turned to the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

I smiled softly and raised my hand to his cheek. I hesitated upon spying the dried blood beneath my nails and the wounds upon my knuckles. Holding back a shiver, I loathed to think how mangled the rest of me must look. No wonder why Michael had been so insistent.

But he rested his cheek into my palm and I forgot about my appearance. He released a low, rumbling sigh and pressed his forehead to mine. My eyes closed, stinging.

  "Hey, goobers!" Gregory called, making the both of us sharply pull away. He was waving his gun over his head in triumph. A circle of downed robots glitched around his feet. "It's over. I won! Gregory the champion!"

  I grinned. "Well done, kiddo."

"Great job, superstar," Freddy complimented.

We all tensed when the distant sound of an animatronic chicken cawed over the walls of the maze. Gregory sped to my side before I could even think to tell him to move.

"I think it's time to go," Gregory squeaked.

"I agree," Freddy said gravely. He herded us back the way we came, threading through the maze's many corridors, only to find a small army of alien-costumed staff bots blocking our exits.

A terrible feeling tiptoed down the column of my neck.

"It's William," I concluded. I sent a panicked look Michael's way. "He's tracking me. He knows where we are."

Freddy gritted his teeth. "Up here." He gestured to a staff-only staircase and lifted Gregory over the railing before doing the same for me. "The staff bots cannot follow."

We clambered up the metal staircase and sped across the catwalks that stretched over Fazerblast. Gregory kept poking his head over the railings and spotting alien-bots, then shooting them with his toy gun. His arm was inhumanely sharp.

We stopped at a cross roads and looked to Freddy for direction, but he was staring at what looked to be a small control station with a troubled frown. I followed his gaze.

"What is it?" I asked.

"... I do not know of that building," he declared. His gaze narrowed. "I know every corner of my patron game."

Including the corners that cameras don't reach. I kept that comment to myself. "I thought your internal mapping system was fried."

"It is," he admitted, "but I know that this was a location I have not seen before. I know these catwalks too well to be unaware of such a location."

Gregory stared at the station and tilted his head. "You're saying it just appeared out of nowhere?"

"Indeed."

"We should check it out," Gregory suggested. At our flabbergasted looks, he shrugged. "It could hold some answers. Maybe a way to defeat this Willy Wonka dude."

I stifled a smile. "You've got a point. Let me take the lead." Adjusting my hold on my crowbar, I started across the catwalk towards the station.

The metal platform squeaked and groaned beneath my sneakers, disrupting any attempt of being silent. I worried that Chica would hear us, but she was so far away and the alien-bots were so annoyingly loud that I assured myself she wouldn't notice. Upon reaching the door, I nudged it open with the end of my weapon, before slowly peeking my head inside.

It was a mess. In the corner sat a decrepit computer and monitor, connected by a hundred wires that stuck through a man-made gap in the wall. In the opposite corner, a futon was shoved, blankets tattered and ripped. On the wall above it was the name Vanny in messy purple spray paint. Spray cans, miscellaneous technical equipment and newspaper clippings covered the floor. I bent down to pick up a black-and-white picture of a kid.

My stomach churned. It was one of the missing kids. My eyes scanned a few more of the newspaper clippings and found young eyes staring back. It was all eight of them.

"What is this place?" Gregory asked.

"A hide out," Freddy answered solemnly. "A base of operations."

I shook my head and rose to my feet, staring at the vandalised wall. The clipping in my fingertips fluttered to the floor.

"Vanny..." I murmured. My eyes scanned the spray-painted name, as if the answer was within its dried leaks. "Who's Vanny?"

Even as I said it, I knew. I felt her approach before I even heard her, as if we were connected somehow. I could feel the malice in her breath, the hate in her gaze. I could feel the bloodlust stuck behind her teeth.

The sound of a knife sheathing itself into wood startled the three of us. We whipped around to the entrance where a woman in a white bunny suit stood. She was still gripping the knife's handle in one of her hands, as if the idea of letting it go was incomprehensible.

"I am."