Well I promised it didn't I? Anyway,I feel like this is a great story and I promised a few people that I would continue the story. This is going to be a long-term project with a target of 20 chapters. If you like, submit story ideas to me in a PM and if I like it I'll give you a shout out in the next chapter!

"Three months on, police still have no leads on the disappearance of Mike Schmidt, who has not been seen since an incident at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Mike had almost finished his first week at the family-oriented restaurant when he allegedly shot his way out of the building, causing serious damage to the property, including the famous animatronic band. Gunfire and yelling was reportedly heard at the pizzeria for two nights, but the identity of the person's involved in the event remain a mystery. Manager of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, John Harrison, spoke to the press yesterday.

"'We at Fazbear Entertainment ae deeply concerned for Mike's safety, and we are willing to aid the authorities in any way we can to ensure that Mike is found. The staff at Freddy's know Mike as a quiet but polite individual who kept mostly to himself. All of them have expressed their wishes for him to be found safe and unharmed.'

"The restaurant has seen a massive increase of customers and popularity since passing it's latest health inspection, and there are rumors that the Fazbear brand could spread all across the United States. Investigations at the main restaurant have concluded, and the chance of finding Mike Schmidt grows less and less likely by the day."

"So they have no suspicions?" John asked, flicking off the TV with the remote.

"Why would they?" Caleb replied, "You buried Mike in a place where nobody could find him. Hell, there's probably nothing left of him now."

"I guess you're right," John sighed, rubbing his eyes and yawning, "God, I'm tired."

"You should go home," Caleb suggested, "This investigation is stressing you out. You need rest."

"I should check in on the band before I go," John mumbled, standing up, "It's been too long..."

"I'll check on them," Caleb offered, "They'll understand. You get home to your wife. She'll be worried sick."

John looked up at him with dark circles under his eyes.

"Gee, thanks Caleb," he said, "Alright then, I'm off. See you tomorrow."

And with that, he staggered out of the room.

Caleb quickly checked the office again. The monitor was fully charged, and ready for the night guard. The pump-action shotgun was locked in it's wall-mounted cage with the words FOR EMERGENCY printed in block letters below. And finally, the notice that John had printed earlier was on the desk next to the monitor, clearly visible. A single light kept the office illuminated, and since the increase in customers, they weren't on limited power after hours. Only the monitor, which was wireless, could lose power.

The janitors were just finishing up in the dining area and stage as Caleb walked out. The lights were all on, and most would remain on during the night. As Caleb looked around , he would always notice the much cleaner and brighter appearance of the restaurant compared to the dark and depressing vibe that had haunted the place since '87.

Two other workers, Zach and Ellie, were polishing Freddy's bare endoskeleton arm. He was out of action for a while after Mike shot him, but John now had reason to refit all four of them, including Foxy. Freddy, Foxy and Bonnie had new suits made, with brighter colouring and fur. In Chica's case, her suit had gold feathers.

"Hey Caleb," Ellie said casually, putting down the dirty rag she was using.

"Hey guys," Caleb replied, "I can take over here if you like."

"We'll be done in a sec," Zach told him with a wave of his hand, "Where's John?"

"He went home," Caleb told them, "He's been practically sleepwalking these past few days and he needs a few days off."

"Is he okay?" Zach asked, putting his rag down and frowning, "He's been really stressed out these past few days."

Uh-oh. Caleb hadn't thought about that.

"He's just worried about Mike, that's all," he lied quickly. John looked unconvinced.

"Well I can understand him being a bit concerned, but why treat it like such a tragedy? Mike was a total dick."

This last comment struck a nerve with Caleb.

"You know, just because someone can be a asshole at times doesn't mean it's less awful when they go missing," he said coldly to Zach, who looked offended.

"No, I don't mean it like-," he began, but a look from Ellie silenced him.

"Just... keep an eye on him," Ellie interrupted, "I don't want him to go too far over the edge. We don't want another Vince situation."

Zach cringed at the mention of his former friend, but stayed silent as the two of them left. Caleb walked over to Freddy and began to re-attach his suit arm.

"How are you, Freddy?" Caleb asked.

"Worried," came the reply, "John's in bad shape. We've all seen it."

"He'll be better after a good long rest," Caleb assured Freddy.

"Not if the police get any new leads on Mike," came a voice.

Caleb whirled around. Lurking behind the door in the shadows was Bonnie, who moved out into the light.

"What do you mean?" Caleb asked.

"How else will the police explain the gunshots that people heard?" Bonnie pointed out, "How will they explain why me and the band members were scattered all over the place. how will they explain why he shot Freddy? If someone were to discover that we're alive and conscious, then there's going to be a lot of rumors about this place flying about. And if people suspect something-"

'Then we go out of business and end up as scrap metal."

Chica had emerged from the back corner of the room, blending in with the yellow wallpaper.

"Don't be ridiculous," Caleb said, baffled, "John owns this place, and you guys. He would never abandon you guys."

"You're right," Bonnie admitted, "He wouldn't. But he actually doesn't own us. Fazbear Entertainment does. If this place shuts down because of rumors about us, then they'll jump at the chance to get rid of us."

Caleb pondered this for a moment, then realized that Bonnie was right. If anyone even suggested that one of the animatronics had a part in Mike's disappearance, self-aware or not, then they were fucked.

"I'm not gonna let that happen guys," Caleb told the three of them, "And neither will John."

Caleb came in the next day before the restaurant opened. As he entered, he saw the night guard, William, walk to his car.

"Hey Will!" Caleb called out, "How was your first night?"

Will turned around, and while he looked a bit shaken, gave Caleb a warm and genuine smile.

"Great!" he called back, "John wasn't kidding about the band!"

Caleb gave him and a nod and bid him goodbye before entering. Sunlight streamed into the mostly empty cafe. A few people were setting cutlery on the tables. Caleb said hello politely and went around the backstage area where Freddy, Bonnie and Chica were ready to perform.

"All set guys?" he asked them.

"Ready as always," Freddy confirmed.

"Caleb," Chica requested, "Do you think you could check on Foxy? He's been a bit moody these past few days."

"I don't blame him," Bonnie piped up, "Neglect does a lot to an animatronic."

Caleb couldn't help but think of Golden Freddy.

"I'll talk to him," he assured Chica.

Caleb left the backstage area and made his way to the front entrance, opposite which was the back of Pirate's Cove. John entered, closing the door behind him.

His eyes had to adjust for a moment, and as he began to make out the space he was in, he called out softly, "Foxy?"

Movement in the corner by the curtain caught his eye. Caleb made out the dark orange colour of Foxy's suit. His back was turned to Caleb, his head down. Caleb would have assumed he was turned off if he hadn't been shaking and breathing sounds hadn't been coming from his voice box.

"Caleb?" came his reply, turning his head slightly toward him. Caleb made out his snout and one eye.

"Foxy, what is it?" Caleb asked him.

"Caleb, it's...," Foxy struggled with his words, his voice sounding hollow and empty. Slowly, he turned around.

Caleb staggered backwards in horror, staring at Foxy in pure disbelief.

"Oh God, no. No, no, no, no! Not again!"

Running down Foxy's face from his other eye was a mixture of blood and mucus.