Where There's A Will There's A Way

Night Three

Bonnie

Mark

I left the pizzeria, somehow more in tune with my surroundings than I had been the day before. I went about my routine as normal, just now with the threats in the back of my head. What did they mean, 'owed us'? Why did they need me specifically to go? It made no sense.

The day, despite the constant worry, was better for me than it had been in a long time. Some remarked on my new guitar, and it felt good to actually be able to play not with a speaker controlling it. Though everything played out normally, the guitar gave me a bit of the illusion of freedom.

I skipped my afternoon nap in favor of a bit of research. I looked into the past of Freddy's, taking note of the alleged murders that had happened there years ago. "How did I not know about this?" Was only one of the many questions on my mind. I also researched the background of the night guard before me, Mike Schmidt. It explained why Bonnie had been calling me Mike the first night. I recorded the most important findings in a notebook and got ready for the third night at Freddy's.

The crowds were out sooner today, but I kept playing, satisfied with my guitar. The day seemed to go by faster than yesterday, what with the fun of actually playing real music like how cool was that. But when the crowds thinned and I no longer had to play, my thoughts strayed back to the phone call. I owed them? Owed them what? Owed them why? My answers would have to wait.

I drove to Freddy's, satisfied with my findings. I was so excited to show Bonnie what I'd found that I didn't see the black car following behind me. I arrived at the restaurant with time to spare, and rushed in without thinking. The day shift looked surprised as he was packing up for the day. "You're early," he said. I nodded, too excited and nervous for words. Day shift just shrugged and walked out, leaving the keys on the hook like every day.

I heard the door close and a car drive away. The day shift had left. It wasn't midnight yet but it sounded like Mark was here. Excited, I took my guitar and jumped off stage, finding the fastest way to the security office, wanting to tell Mark about what it was like to play a real guitar.

I spread out the papers on the desk next to the still broken phone-which the day shift hadn't asked about, thank gods-and listened to the approaching footsteps which I assumed were Bonnie, because it didn't seem like anyone else was that excited to see me again yet.

I slipped into the security office. "Hey!" I greeted. "That was the best dare I have ever taken!" I caught sight of the papers on the desk. "What're those?"

"Research. I wasn't just sleeping today. Look, do you remember anything about these murders that happened decades ago?"

"Which ones?" I asked suspiciously, leaning my guitar against the door frame and walking up to the desk.

"The murders. There have been more than one?" I look up at him and see the suspicious look in his eyes.

"I thought I made that fact pretty clear," I said with a scowl.. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

"Whoa, you got salty fast." I archived that information for later. "Okay, uhm, the only one I found was a collection of five kids dying in 1980 something. Apparently they were-" Then I realized. How could I have been so stupid? "Holy shit."

I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet, looking down at the floor. "Uh, yeah," I said quietly. "I... I remember those."

I was in shock. Ghosts? It wasn't any crazier than living robots, but at the same time..."Wow. I...wow. And you couldn't tell me this why?"