It's been a while since I last talked to Cassidy. Actually, I don't remember the last time I talked to her. Still, that didn't matter—because the Cassidy I knew felt like nothing more than an empty shell, someone I once tried to reach and failed, leaving only a hollow ache behind.
"What did you want to talk about?" I asked carefully.
Silence swallowed the room, tense and heavy, twisting my stomach with dread. This wasn't the Cassidy I remembered; the figure before me radiated cold unfamiliarity, like facing an entirely new soul—or something worse.
"You've been rather busy these past nights, haven't you?" Cassidy spoke, breaking the silence.
"Yes…" I said, recalling the previous nights. "It has been…eventful. Surviving and running about, collecting tapes and reliving others' memories. What about them?"
"So you know what happened to the children who now haunt the halls of the pizzeria, bringing sorrow and solace."
"Yes…I do."
"And you know who killed them?" Only one name popped into my brain immediately.
"My father," I forced out, the memory of his wicked smile flooding my vision, paralyzing me with a mix of fear and revulsion I could never shake.
"You're aware of who you are, too?" Golden Freddy asked. Reluctantly, I met Cassidy's gaze and felt compelled to answer, even as I struggled with the weight of the truth I long avoided.
"Your killer's son, Michael Afton."
Suddenly, I was yanked into the air, an invisible force clamping around my throat. My fingers clawed desperately, panic mounting as every second dragged me closer to the edge of consciousness. The shadows closed in, and terror hammered in my chest as the darkness thickened, threatening to swallow me whole.
"I could kill you now… No one would know. No one would care," Cassidy intoned, voice chilling. My limbs went limp, lungs burning under the invisible grip. My pulse thundered in my ears, and for an agonizing heartbeat, I thought this was truly the end.
Suddenly, the grip on my neck released, and I dropped to the floor, landing hard. I coughed and gasped, struggling to catch my breath.
"But, what type of consequence would that bring to the table as it is?" Cassidy said. She rose from her seat and began to float, slowly moving into the darkness.
"After all, you did invest in work you didn't have to complete, without knowing what the outcome would serve,"
After several deep breaths, I lifted my head and saw Cassidy's animatronic form looming above me. Still recovering from the chokehold, I forced myself to speak.
"E…Exactly what did I do?" I asked, coughing in the process.
"Now, that is a good question coming from you, Michael," Cassidy replied, facing away.
"Surprising as it is, you managed to break one of the chains preventing us from communicating with one another. The Purple Guy set that up to stop us from discovering a way to end this eternal suffering to haunt him for the rest of his days,"
"So, the imposter…I mean, Shadow Freddy wasn't lying about not having communication with others?" I asked.
"Precisely," Golden Freddy replied. The whole time, Shadow Freddy was relaying Golden Freddy's information to me, making it clearer so I could understand. Shadow Freddy is reliable. I slowly raised myself from the floor, and a thought struck me.
"Wait a minute… Was I misled the entire time?" I asked, straightening my shirt.
"Misled? What do you mean?" Cassidy asked.
"Shadow Freddy promised memories or information—specifically mine—if I stayed at the pizzeria. But none of the tapes had them, so you lied."
"And what led to this conclusion of me promising you memories or information I never knew or had?"
"Well, I assumed you and Shadow Freddy were speaking to each other, relying on each other to share informati—" I began, but Cassidy interrupted me before I could finish.
"No. I haven't been told about this proposition, nor did I take part in it." Cassidy said, interrupting me. "As far as I'm concerned, you did this willingly, whether it was for curiosity or monetary benefits. Besides, you were the one speaking to this 'Shadow Freddy' the entire time. So that conversation is between both of you."
I sighed, frustration boiling over inside me. Instinct had screamed that something was wrong, but I'd ignored it, blinded by my own hope for connections that weren't there. Now, as the truth settled over me, it was like tumbling back—answers slipping away and pain clawing deeper than before.
"Alright, fine, whatever… I'm in too deep already, so fuck it…" I muttered, rubbing my temples before taking a steadying breath and turning to face Cassidy, whose gaze was now locked on me.
"Circling back, what are these 'chains' exactly, and how many of them are there?" I asked. For a moment, Cassidy didn't speak but stared at me intently.
"There are two chains that separated us from the grimy hands of the Purple Man, one of which you broke by gathering the tapes and viewing the contents inside. This action, in itself, as much as I hate to say it, made you an extension, allowing us to connect and communicate."
"Well, that's certainly interesting."
"As for the second and last chain, it is kept in place by an entity that has full control of the animatronic suits, keeping us trapped in these torturous suits. To free us, you must play its game–no one has been able to beat its game."
She must mean the imposter Golden Freddy I've encountered at night.
"Wait, there have been others that tried?"
"Yes. The most recent one was a night guard named Ralph. He only managed to make it to 4 nights before the animatronics controlled by the entity brutally killed him. Poor thing had a daughter too…"
I recalled the 4th night, when the phone guy last spoke. Could that have been Ralph? If so, what's left of him wasn't pretty in that basement where I found him–If that even was him.
"Do you know his daughter's name?" I asked hopefully.
"No, unfortunately," Cassidy replied.
"How'd you know he had a daughter?"
"It was the last thing he muttered before one of the animatronics stuffed him into a suit."
That settled it—Ralph had been in that suit. Guilt and sorrow punched through me as I looked down, mourning people lost to my father and his monstrous creations. Each tale I heard, every horror, filled me with seething anger—but also with a burning resolve to end this nightmare once and for all.
"So…This entity," I spoke. "It was pissed I still came back after surviving five nights at Freddy's. Or actually, six nights. But, you guys still aren't free. Why?"
"I'm not sure myself… I do know that to break the second chain, you must beat the entity at his own game."
"And I'm assuming you don't know this 'game'?"
"Correct."
I sighed once more—another unanswered question followed by a headache. However, if my prediction was right, the imposter Golden Freddy entity's game is surviving the nights of terror it's thrown at me in an attempt to break my spirit. If this were true, then how many nights would I have to survive to break this last chain?
"Well… There's only one way to prove the game the entity is playing," I said.
"And what is that?" Cassidy asked.
"Going back for another night. If I'm right, it'll only be one last night."
Cassidy's eyes moved up and down, scanning me closely. It looked like she wanted to speak, her mouth opening slightly before closing again. Finally, she said something that piqued my interest.
"If you can do that, Michael. Then, I'll help you find out who you were before," Cassidy said. She slowly lifted herself off the floor, sitting back down exactly as she had been before, her posture deliberate. I was taken aback by her words, considering she nearly killed me earlier.
"Well, that's certainly a surprising statement coming from you," I said smugly.
"Don't get too comfortable. You're still the Purple Guy's son, and it doesn't mean I don't still trust you. If you want our trust, you have to free us all from the torment your father put us through."
"Understood," I said, smiling faintly. I was finally making progress.
"However, I must warn you. Some secrets are bound to be unwound. Secrets that'll disgust you. Tear you apart. Perhaps even kill you. Are you sure you really want to know who you are?" Cassidy said, with white eyes looking deep into my eyes.
"Are you trying to tell me something?" I asked.
"No. I don't know what the future holds. But knowing what your father's done, your past must not be pretty if he is as evil a man as I see him. Then again, you could've had a peaceful life I've never had, but something so horrendous happened that your father wanted you to forget about it. After all, every action has a consequence. Choose wisely, Michael Afton."
Cassidy was right. Who am I, really? No family. No friends. No one left to care if I vanished. The truth left me cold—alone. Maybe broken. Maybe unfixable. Maybe grasping for a future as shadowy and uncertain as everything else.
At this point, I have nothing to lose.
Yet the pizzeria's horrors haunted me. Children's cries echoed night after night in my mind. I couldn't let it stand—the pain, the violence my father began. I needed to fix this, to free the souls tormented by his hand. Somehow, I had to make it right.
"You've got a deal. Cassidy."
---
"A wise choice you made, Michael. Hopefully you'll follow through with your words," a voice whispered.
"Go, Michael! Go!" the voice faded.
I found myself sitting on the chair in front of the TV. The last thing I remembered was putting the tape in, then chaos crashing over me. The conversation with Cassidy returned gradually; pieces of the memory resurfaced until it all came back in one overwhelming rush.
I remembered the job I had to do.
I glanced at the time and saw it was already 11:30 PM. Right in the nick of time for the last night at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Wasn't that ironic? Somehow, the time was perfectly aligned in the memory, talking with Shadow Freddy and Cassidy, and now it was time for me to go back to that hellhole I once came from.
Strangely enough, I did not feel the slightest bit tired. In fact, it felt like I've had the best sleep of the week. This job surely drains your life force. However, a little extra sleep didn't hurt anyone.
---
Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.
11:59 PM.
"Just one more night and let it be over with, please?" I pleaded in a whisper as I took one last stretch, yawning as I prepared for another night of terror.
Night 7–12:00 AM.
Immediately, the phone rang. I answered.
"The promises Cassidy assured you. They aren't real." It was the Golden Freddy imposter–No, the entity. I expected it to be calling me.
"And what makes you think I'll believe you over her?" I asked.
"Because I am the one who has the responsibility and ability to kill you. Where is your sense of intuition?"
"Why do I need that when I know the entire story? All I have to do is put a stop to your little pathetic game."
"You don't understand, not yet anyway. You saw them as innocent because they manipulated your perception, even Cassidy."
"Once again, why would I believe you? Why wouldn't I stop you from freeing the children trapped in those suits of torment that you're so keen to keep them in?"
"Because if you do, then I'll have no choice but to kill you. To Cassidy, your life isn't worth more than a puppet. So you should get out of here while you can."
"It makes no difference. You've been trying to kill me for the past few nights, and now that you're not in the mood, you want to be peaceful? Fuck. You."
"Death. Something so fitting for someone who has cause already."
The phone line cut out immediately. Loud, frantic footsteps began to play inside the pizzeria. I checked the cameras and found they belonged to Bonnie and Chica. They were moving at speeds that seemed way off from their original movement.
De dum dum do do!
Ah ha ha… ha ha…
Thirty seconds later, both Freddy and Foxy were up as well. However, I couldn't focus on them right now because Bonnie was already at my door, which I closed immediately. Chica was in the right hallway corner, ready to strike. Overnight, these animatronics became more aggressive–naturally from the imposter's control.
Ha ha… ah ha ha…
Within a second, Chica already found her way to my door. I closed it before she could get in and checked the left door for Bonnie. Bonnie was still there. With both Chica and Bonnie at my door, I decided to take this time to check the status of Freddy and Foxy. Foxy was threatening to run soon, and Freddy was in the bathrooms.
1 AM…
My power level began to glitch subtly. It kept switching between my actual percentage and randomized numbers. This was either the imposter's doing or the pizzeria seriously needed an upgrade.
"It's too late to back down now," the imposter voice echoed. "You have already decided your fate."
Ah ha ha… ha ha…
Freddy moved. Bonnie was finally gone. Chica remained at the door. I opened the left door, flipping through the cameras to locate Freddy. Freddy was in the right hallway, staring at the camera menacingly through his eerie white eyes. Chica and Bonnie were both in the dining room–Foxy looked ready to run.
So far, everything has gone fine aside from the animatronics' aggressiveness. Cassidy was right about the imposter Golden Freddy controlling the animatronics. Am I doing the right thing?
Trusting the true Cassidy?
Suddenly, fast-approaching footsteps caught my attention. Foxy was heading my way. I closed the left door before Foxy could get in. He pounded the door with anger before he skidded back to his cove. The power level went down by 2%. If I made the numbers out correctly, I have 89% power.
There was no room or time for me actually to focus; I had to do things instinctively, otherwise I'd be dead if I wasn't already a veteran.
Ah ha ha… Ha ha…
Freddy was near the door, and I closed it. Bonnie moved to the left hallway, and Chica rummaged in the kitchen. Foxy peeked out of his cove, hinting at another run soon enough.
If I play my cards right, I should have enough power to keep the door permanently closed until 6 AM; however, part of this plan requires me to check on Foxy frequently. To do that, I need to use sound cues. That and I would need to differentiate between the fake animatronics and the real ones.
The only difference I've noticed between the fakes is the eyes. The fake animatronics don't have those ghostly white eyes; instead, they are empty — almost like the dream I have where the people's faces I'm surrounded by are blurry messes.
The same as the family Shadow Freddy showed me while impersonating Cassidy.
2 AM…
Ah ha ha… ha ha…
De de dum dum do do…
Somehow, the animatronics doubled in speed within an hour. Freddy and Chica moved strategically, keeping the door shut and draining power. I was already down to 80% — which isn't good.
Freddy would go from the right hallway to the right hallway corner repeatedly, while Chica would occasionally come to spot him. Meanwhile, Bonnie would come to the door, but not often, like a scarecrow–something to keep my eyes paying attention to him. Almost like he wants me to stop looking at Foxy. After all, his runs do drain my power significantly.
ha ha… ha ha ha…
I opened the door, hoping to save a little power for the endgame. Chica was in the bathroom, Bonnie in the supply closet, and Freddy in the dining room, peering from the shadows with his sharp, white eyes. I swear, those eyes are always so freakish to look at, cause deep down, an instinct screamed that something undesirable was happening–A feeling I couldn't shake.
Interrupting my thoughts, a faint moan erupted from behind me. I turned towards the source, finding Bonnie behind me. However, It wasn't. I frowned a bit upon looking at this illusion lingering on top of me.
"Your tricks won't work. You should know by now, if anything, you could try and make it more realistic and believable," I spoke loudly.
"Do you ever question if you can die in your own dream?" The entity spoke. "Sure, nobody has ever asked that question before. But what if you can?"
Bonnie widened his jaw, slowly leaning in closely towards my face.
"However, what would happen if a hallucination could kill you? I mean, if we look at the dream question closely, maybe the reason no one asked is that they were already dead by then?"
I closed my eyes immediately as I felt the breath of the soulless animatronic. I opened my eyes, finding the hallucination of Bonnie gone.
"Wasn't too daring, were we?" the entity taunted.
"Says a lot about you. I thought you were going to kill me?" I shot back.
"Don't you feel it? The rush? When predators chase after prey?"
"Except you're not a predator, you're just an awful excuse of one."
"Is that so? I know Foxy is derived from a predator."
Immediately, loud, fast-approaching footsteps came from the left door.
Foxy was coming.
I quickly closed the door before Foxy could reach any closer and force his way into the office. Foxy pounded on the door with hatred once again before he retreated.
A high-pitched laughter echoed through the pizzeria.
"It's ironic how you almost were distracted that Foxy–a predator–could've killed you right then and there," The entity smugly said.
"Yet, I managed to fend off a predator," I said back.
"But can you afford to do it again?"
The same footsteps were now rapidly coming from the right door. On instinct, I pressed the button. However, it didn't work, and it just played a noise. I pushed the button again, but the same noise played — is it disabled? Every footstep became louder, and the time window to close the door tightened as I pressed the button multiple times.
The door wouldn't close!
"Whatever this is, you better fucking stop it," I shouted at the entity. "Let me close the fucking door, you rat!"
"Oh? But you were just being egotistical about fending off a predator? Where is that energy now?" The entity laughed.
Can I outrun Foxy? No, that's not logical. He's literally the fastest animatronic here. Think, Michael, think!
"Well, Michael, it was nice knowing that you're weak just like the rest of them. I played with my food too much, but now, you're going to die, just like the rest of them."
I pushed the button one more time, but the door still didn't budge. The footsteps finally reached the office, Foxy lunging forward. I anticipated his movement and jumped out of the way. Foxy's sharp hook managed to slice my right arm pretty badly as it started to bleed. I couldn't feel the pain yet because of the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
My breath quickened.
My muscles tightened.
My heart raced.
Foxy stood back up from his lunging position, slowly turned his head towards me as he raised his hook.
De de dum dum do do… he sang one last time.
"Y-yer time has just a-a-about run out," Foxy spoke, before he lunged at me once more.
3 AM…