I'm posting this literally minutes before I clock in for work so I don't have much to say here, anyway, please enjoy, and tell me what you think. Constructive critisim is always welcome as well as any other feedback or comments ^^ See ya next time lovelies ;)

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I sat at the dining room table surrounded by an assortment of small pieces of metal, watch batteries, electrical tape, and various other small pieces. Thankfully power had been restored to the neighborhood a couple of hours ago so I no longer had to run around the house by the light of my quickly dying phone, instead it now sat off to the side of all the clutter on the table charging as I tinkered with all the little bits and pieces.

Periodically I would pause in my work, tapping the home button on the phone to check the time, at last glance it was almost 10:00 pm.

"Hey, what is all this?"

I jump a bit in my seat, not having heard my brother's footsteps on the stairs or sensed him walk up behind me.

"Jesus. You almost gave me a heart attack," I mutter, slumping back into the chair with a huff.

"Sorry, so what're you doing?" He asks again.

"I'm putting together some electrical charges," I reply mundanely. "They should send out quite a shock if they come into contact with metal,"

"Uh huh, that seems real safe considering this whole table is now covered in metal," He deadpans.

"That's what the electrical gloves are for, duh,"

"Wait, don't you carry a taser in your purse anyway? What's the point of this?"

I pause in my work and turn to look at him with a contemplative expression. "Oh yeah... I do don't I...?" I say after a moment of silence.

"You're hopeless," Brandon sighs.

"Hey, shut up," I retort, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back into the chair. I glance over at the small row of these tiny devices I'd already finished.

"Well," I start. "We could just use them as landmines or something, place them around the bench and on the floors just in case," I try reasoning, not wanting all of this work to go to waste. "Just make sure you're not wearing metal shoes," I joke lamely.

"Yeah sure, go ahead and do that, then go find that taser, it's getting close to midnight,"

"What? Already?" I check my phone again to see that he's right, it's already 11:30... It seems I'd lost track of time, definitely not good. "You've been checking the cameras too right?"

"Yeah, still no movement, I checked on my way down here,"

"Good," I sigh. "Alright, I'll place a few charges up here, get my taser, and meet you in the living room. Make sure you have everything you need and meet me there in ten,"

"Gotcha,"

####

When we reconvene in the living room at 11:40 I see that Brandon's added a few more weapons to his arsenal, he still has his glock, but now added to it are two big rifles strapped across his back, he also has a large hunting knife strapped to his belt that'd been a gift from our uncle. Seemed a bit overkill, but whatever floats his boat I guess.

My stash consisted of Wonder Woman's Roman style shield, God Killer, a few extra electrical charges, and a hefty taser hanging from my belt loop.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to set an alarm for 6 am, just for shits n giggles I set my alarm's soundbite to the same tune that plays in the game when you survive the night.

"Let's go, we've got about fifteen minutes till shit gets real," I say, making for the basement door.

"Whatever," Brandon says, shaking his head at my cheesy line as he follows me down the staircase.

On the way down I drop a few charges every couple of steps, ending up with about four left over which I decide to throw down around the weight bench before pulling up a chair in front of it.

"Bree," I recognize the warning in his tone and wave him off.

"It's fine, just grab a seat and wait,"

He still seems hesitant and wary of us being so close to the animatronic but follows my lead all the same, setting one of his larger rifles across his lap and beginning to load in ammo.

I take the chance to remove my sword and shield from my back, placing both on my lap and resting my hand lightly over my taser as I lean forward with my arms on my knees.

My fingertips run absently over the cold metal shield as I stare ahead, right into the dead dim eyes of Foxy.

My eyes trail downward to his jaw which hung loosely open and slightly askew, probably the most instantly recognizable area in need of repair.

I shudder a bit as my mind conjures up an image of someone's head grasped between fully functional jaws just before they clamp down.

The alarm I'd set chooses then to go off, playing a short music box version of the toreador march like freddy's song before he gets you.

Needless to say I was startled enough that I nearly dropped the sword and shield from my lap with a silent but startled gasp before quickly silencing the alarm.

Almost instantaneously a soft mechanical whirring emits from the animatronic in front of us and in the corner of my vision I see Brandon's grip on his gun tighten.

His eyes, those golden yellow eyes, seem to come to life then, glowing with a soft light as his brows furrow upward on his face.

His jaw flops almost uselessly as a low screech-like cry escapes his maw.

I find myself stuck in a state of both fear and awe, unable to look away or even move while Brandon on the other hand has raised his rifle for precaution.

The fox's golden eyes dart between my brother and I, seeming to look spooked when his eyes land on Brandon, or maybe it was the gun.

His jaw flops again in an attempt at movement and he gives another screech.

"Wharghhhhhhhhzttttt!?"

I flinch back a bit as the sound ends in fizzing hisses and pops, like the sound coming from a dead radio channel or a busted drive thru speaker.

That... sounded almost like he was trying to speak... Could it be? Or am I just looking too far into it?

I glance back at Brandon and he seems to be a bit shocked too, though I can't say for sure if its for the same reason.

I glance back at Foxy, slumped pitifully against the weight bench and tied down by numerous straps and chain lengths.

Its almost... sad...

That feeling from before returns again, the feeling that something here isn't right. And no its not the obvious thing that isn't right here either.

I open my mouth to speak but no words come out so I give a small cough into my wrist to clear my throat.

"Are... are you trying to speak to us?" I ask timidly.

His eyes brighten, literally, for a second and his brows raise up in surprise at my question.

Briefly I find myself pondering how very expressive he can be with just his eyes before I'm pulled from my thoughts by another whine.

"Ayerrrrrrrrrrrzttt," Is the noise I get in response.

"Aye?" I muse aloud. "Yes?"

His eyes seem to brighten again so I take that as a yes.

"Hmmm... It seems like your voice box is damaged..." I murmur.

"Brielle, are you seriously trying to have a conversation with the murder bot here?" Brandon deadpans, a hint of annoyance and also worry in his tone.

"Sure, why not," I say, waving him off and turning my attention back to Foxy.

"Alright, how about this," I start. "Left ear twitch for yes," I say, pointing to his left ear. "and right ear twitch for no?" Pointing to his right.

To my surprise his left ear twitches just a bit and I can't keep the small grin off my lips at this slight bit of progress.

"Alright then," I say, for some reason suddenly a bit giddy at having some means of communication. "First off, do you have any idea how you got here?"

His right ear twitches in the negative and I give a slight frown. Well, thats the answer I expected anyway so I shouldn't be disappointed.

"Okay, do you remember the last place you were?"

Left twitch.

"Were you at the pizzeria?"

Left twitch again.

"Hmm, okay," I murmur to myself.

Communication is so limited right now theres really not too much I can ask him.

A somewhat random question pops into my head and I decide asking is better than tense awkward silence.

"Was Mike there?"

No twitch, instead he's now staring at me with his brows raised quizzically in suspicion.

"I don't know him personally if thats what you're thinking," I say. "I know of him thats all,"

After a moment's pause his left ear twitches.

So Mike had been there last Foxy remembered, which meant he was brought here some time during the night shift.

"What about earlier before you powered down? We're you trying to kill us?" Brandon asks with a slight glare toward the pirate fox.

Foxy's eyebrows furrow and the chains around his wrists clatter just a bit as he raises his fist, and hook, a few centimeters above the arm rests, straining against them for a second as he shakes his head instead of giving just an ear twitch this time, his jaw flapping loosely at the action.

His sudden movement and strain against the restraints however puts Brandon on edge and I see his knuckles go white from his grip on his gun.

I glance over my shoulder to give him a look and his grip loosens if only a little bit.

Foxy follows my gaze and looks over to Brandon, his right ear twitching for a couple seconds.

"Really? Then why were you grabbing for Brielle?" My brother asks, still untrusting of the fox.

"Ayyyyye weren- tttttttttt yinnnnnnnnnn urrrrrrrrrrtzzzttttt-" His garbled sentence cuts off suddenly and his expression changes to something I can only call a mix between frustration and annoyance.

"Try to hold back on questions like that," I sigh, addressing my brother. "Until that voice box is fixed we aren't going to be able to ask anything but yes or no questions,"

"Alright, Foxy?" I call, gaining the Fox's attention. "Do you mind if I take a look at you?" I ask somewhat hesitantly, unsure of his answer granted the position we'd put him in.

It felt like he was a prisoner here...

Thats when I realized what that feeling I'd been getting earlier was.

I wanted to take away the restraints but still I knew that may not be the safest thing to do given what we knew of Foxy as well as our currently limited communication.

But again to my surprise his left ear twitches.

I'm still so surprised that when I go to stand up I forget about my gear laying in my lap and both sword and shield clatter to the floor.

Almost instantaneously I feel a blush heat up my cheeks in embarassment as I avert my eyes from the fox.

I feel eyes on the back of my head and turn to see Brandon rolling his eyes at me as if saying 'nice one', just taunting me.

"Oh shut it you," I mutter under my breath, jabbing a finger at him before turning back to Foxy.

I hear Brandon stand, hefting his gun up to his shoulder again, raising it toward the animatronic as I walk toward him.

I step over to his right side slowly leaning over to look at his face, his golden orbs gazing into my green ones.

Slowly, very slowly, I raise a hand to the side of his face, trailing down till I reach where the matted, discolored fur meets the smooth cold metal of his neck.

I glance up to gauge his reaction to me touching him and find his eyes closed, looking strangely relaxed.

Hmmm, interesting.

I feel carefully along his neck and collarbone, the smooth ridges along his neck seeming to conceal a small hatch-like opening there.

My fingers ghost along the edges of it, feeling for some kind of release.

I glance up at the fox again to find him looking at me.

"Is it alright if I take a look here?" I ask, my fingers remaining on the small hidden door over his throat.

His left ear twitches before the small door pops open on its own and my lips part to form a small 'o' shape in surprise.

A small rasping noise comes from the fox and I glance up to see his eyes closed in what looks like amusement and his chest heaves slightly against the restraints.

Is he... Is he laughing at me?

Shaking off the fox's weirdness I return my eyes to the now open door in his throat. It reveals a tangle of wires, some fraying or disconnected all together. In the center nearly completely covered by wires is a metal tube seeming to run from his mouth downward, in front of that peaking out from more wires is a small metal box.

I recognize the configuration of some of the wires feeding through the box and can only assume it's what his voice comes from.

"Is this little chamber your vocal box?" I ask, lightly tapping the smooth metal surface.

I look up to see his answer, only, something doesn't seem right...

His left ear is twitching but seconds after his right begins to twitch at the same time.

"Wait, which is it? Yes or no?" I ask confused.

Though I don't recieve an answer to my questioning, I forget about the question entirely to be honest, I'm too busy staring into his eyes, the whites of which were quickly being taken over by solid black.

His expression, just a second ago worried now turns to a nasty sneer as he begins struggling against the restraints, the wires of his neck concealing themselves again as now he's back to screeching.

Somehow the restraints on his right wrist had become loosened and his hook is jerked up toward my stomach.

Seconds before the sharp metal would have sliced me I feel myself dragged roughly backwards and I fall into Brandon who now stood with his rifle aimed right at Foxy's head, finger on the trigger.

I see his trigger finger flinch and put my hand out, gripping the barrel from underneith and redirecting his aim upward and to the right.

"Don't," I say, tension thick in my voice.

"Are you fucking kidding Brielle! He almost gutted you!"

"Look at his damn eyes! They're different than before!" I shout, gesturing to his black and gold Tokyo Ghoul looking eyes.

"I don't give a damn about his eyes! Like I said earlier, if there was any danger I'd shoot, and look what he almost did!"

"Look, I know I sound like the biggest fucking idiot right now defending him, and I am really fucking greatful for you saving me n all, but this doesn't feel like the same Foxy we were talking to thirty seconds ago," I grit through my teeth.

I keep a firm grip on the rifle, keeping it pointed away from Foxy and off into the corner of the ceiling. "What if its something to do with those kids that went missing at Freddy's?" I ask, staring pointedly into Brandon's eyes.

He seems to falter for a second before meeting my eyes with a hard gaze. "Even if you are right who's to say he won't just snap again like this? You're willing to leave a threat like that in our home where he could be possessed or whatever at any given second?"

I glance behind me back to Foxy as his fists grip the armrests of the bench, his brows furrowed and eyes rapidly flashing from white to black.

"I can fix this," I state plainly.

"Brielle. No. You're not seriously gonna go through with this. He's fucking dangerous!"

"Yes. I am," I reply, keeping my gaze locked on the fox. The white seems more prevalent in his eyes now and at my words his brows shoot up in surprise.

"Maybe it's best you go stay with grandmom for a while, I'll see what I can do before Mom and Dad get back from vacation,"

"Like hell!"

"Brandon, I've already made my decision, but part of that will not be putting you in harms way over something like this that I'm still unsure of!"

"Thought you said you could fix it..."

My own grip around the shotgun's barrel tightens, my knuckles turning pale white under the strain.

"I can fix this," I defend.

I hope...

"I'm staying,"

"You're so damn stubborn," I seethe.

"Seems its whats been keeping you alive today,"

I ignore his last comment, realizing the sounds of struggling have ceased.

When we turn back to Foxy again his head is lowered, eyes closed, and he is slumped even more against the bench if possible.

"Foxy?" I ask, not daring to move from my spot.

His eyes open and he glances up to look at me for a moment before looking back down again, eyes closing.

His eyes had been back to normal then.

"Sssssssssssoo rrrrrrry l- lasssss-zzzzzztt"

I feel Brandon's grip on his rifle loosen and release my hold of it, allowing him to pull it back and rest it at his side.

"Well, looks like there are just a few parts I'm missing that I need to fix your voice box so I'll pick those up after classes tomorrow so I can start working on it," I say, almost rambling a bit as the words leave my mouth, "We'll be going upstairs now,"

I grab up my sword and shield and turn to leave, making a beeline for the stairs, Brandon following behind.

We both start making our way up, but not before my ears pick up a low, pitiful sounding whine...