"More kids are missing?!" Henry had his voice raised, tugging at his hair and pacing as the news was delivered to him. Across the room, employees were filing missing person reports with the extent of the information they had. "Do you know what this means for the company?" Henry grumbled with clenched teeth. "Do you know what this means for my family?!" A few of the employees looked up at him, not knowing the true answer but dreading the truth. Their eyes showed their concern as they darted side to side. "What does this mean to you?!" The employees gazed blankly towards Henry. One of their mouths was open, beginning to speak. "We- we're scared, Henry-" But as soon as their boss's name slipped their mouth, everyone's attention snapped to the glass doors that separated the pizza place from the rest of Hurricane. The entrance to the building flung open and Fritz Smith, with his left hand covered in bandages, entered before panting as if he'd run a marathon. Henry turned around to face him, making eye contact for a brief second before Fritz looked up to the elevated show stage and then around the room. "I'm back! ...wait, Henry?" Fritz said as he walked up to Henry, holding his bandaged hand behind his back. "What do you want, Fritz?!" barked Henry, blinded by his own confusion. "...I don't think the robots are supposed to be on-stage right now, right?" Looking towards the elevated stage, Henry would see all three robots standing in their places, staring straight at him with tilted heads. Their eyes were blank and the paint of their irises looked too saturated. But aside from their awkward stare, something was noticeably off about their plastic bodies. Henry didn't remember giving this new Freddy any claws. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Sitting on a creaky wooden chair in the normally-cheery kitchen, Michael was shaking as he wrapped a bandage around Charlie's pale arm. "I'm so sorry, I- I didn't know it would happen again." he mumbled, tightening the bandages before dropping them and scratching an itch on his neck where a piece of fur was sinking into his skin. "I was just scared, and something happened last night before... y'know... and I guess it just kinda- it just happened, okay?" Charlie nodded. "It's okay, Mike. We're fine. Dad's fine too." She smiled, and so did Brendon and Suzy, who stood behind her with their own injuries. "But it's not fine. It hasn't been so crazy. I haven't hurt anyone that bad... okay, maybe one time it was worse... but still, Charlie." "But Dad forgives you!" Charlie told him as she opened her arms for a hug. "We all do! We know you can't help it-" Michael shook his head furiously, refusing to look at Charlie. "I know. I just don't want to hurt anyone, okay?!" He stood and shoved back the chair he sat in. "Mike-?" questioned Brendon, his young face beginning to look scared. For a second, Michael looked back at his brother before turning back around, sighing, and making a mad dash to the hallway where his room resided. He bolted inside and slammed the door shut behind him, growing his foxlike features as he weeped. He leaped onto his bed and wiped tears out of his eyes while burying himself under the sheets. It was a minute of just looking back up towards the mess of a room he'd made the night before that followed. All around him, the walls were practically screaming his name as he looked at them. The walls. The walls that once had pristine, perfect wallpaper were now torn and scarred from desperate claw-marks. Within those scars were small stains of crimson-red blood. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Standing in the backroom of the pizzeria, Henry and Fritz were standing together, glancing at the duplicate sections of the new robots' suits. "This doesn't- it doesn't look right, Henry." uttered Fritz, holding up a bright blue Bonnie head. "They look... different out there." Henry groaned. "I know, I know..." His words were quiet, very distant. His tone now seemed drastically different than his rage-blinded screaming from before. "Nothing's right around here." Fritz nodded in response, hiding his now-stiff bandaged hand behind his back. "You're right, Henry... It- everything's weird here at Freddy's." "Fritz, I trust you to keep this private." Henry began to utter. "But did I ever tell you what happened at the old Freddy's? The technician shook his head, scratched behind his ginger hair, and placed the Bonnie head down. He knew there was an older location, but he never learned anything about it. He'd only been in Hurricane for a few weeks at most. "Alright, i'm going to ask you this first. What do you know?" Henry tilted his head downwards but kept an attentive gaze to Fritz. For a moment the technician was just silent. His clawed, freakish hand began to itch under the gauze. "Well, uh..." he began to say. "Trust me, it's important." Fritz sighed. "I- I don't know anything." "Well, those kids that have gone missing recently... odds are, they're dead. But... unfortunately, this isn't the first time it's happened." Fritz sat down on the table and gestured for Henry to continue. He felt a dread-like feeling in his chest. Henry continued talking. "Earlier this year at the old place, back in June, four kids just- they went missing. Out of nowhere. One of those kids- he was my son. But that's not what I'm telling you this for. Those kids were murdered by the other owner of the place. The animatronics there- they began to 'act up' after the incident... almost killed me... They also looked very, very strange... the same thing that's happening now." "So you mean-" Fritz choked. "They're becoming killing machines?" "This time around..." sighed Henry. "They already are. And knowing what they've done to a few kids I know, Fritz, it's going to be worse than that. And we need to stop this before it gets worse." "And- what about those k-kids? The other ones..?" Fritz mumbled, looking almost speechless.

Henry stood and shook his head. "That, Fritz," he said, exiting the backroom, "is a story for another day." For a little while longer, Fritz sat alone in the backroom, dreading the sliver of truth he held with him.