"Damn it. Damn it! Damn it!"

Those speedy little legs had fired away when he could almost reach out and crush the mortal's heart. Patton went off to explore other hiding spots the guard might've chosen, leaving Roman to creep from room to room, searching.

The fanciful persona rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. Not much except for bagged food and eating utensils. A lengthy butcher knife twirled in his palm, his mighty sword.

An odd sound erupted from the dark corridor: mechanical footsteps in high chase, but they clanked against tiled floor with more force than usual. Something with excess weight. Curiouser than the Cheshire Cat, Roman headed to the source of the running. He had just poked his head out of the doorway when a blur of white and purple zipped through.

"Virgil."

Perhaps little Emo Nightmare was so desperate to protect the stranger. This. Very. Instant.

     Feeling the wicked grin, he followed the other animatronic. Not quite fast, but not slow either. Enough of a pace to track him down. Though by the second, his impatience ticked like a time bomb. He stopped behind a corner, peeking out and inspecting the actions of a weak mascot.

     Vigil slowed to a stop at the storage closet and fished out a cleaning bucket. The angsty child whispered, "How much?"

     Low, suppressed murmurs said something back.

How peculiar.

He craned his neck forward, clenching fingers around the handle of the knife. Roman leapt out from his hiding spot, holding it high and mighty, ready for a one-sided sword fight.

"Huzzah!"

     Virgil backed up, showing off a pitiful defense by roaring like a wild animal. He wouldn't stop. The tattered animatronic opened his faceplates, violently twitching his head side to side.

     Pfft. What a coward.

     Roman's eyes narrowed. "Where is he?!"

The other simply deepened his voice-box, retreating with the bucket. Virgil sprinted away, but his patten of footsteps sounded slightly off. Cautious.

     He propelled after Virgil. Their path led them to the bathrooms. A sink tap squeaked open, rushing water filled up a container.

Roman slammed into the other animatronic.

His knife dropped. A bucket splashed water in the air, but no droplets landed on either machine. The screaming meddled with a voice of a different pitch. Strange, it didn't belong to anyone he knew.

How very peculiar.

Strings of a dark liquid oozed from cracks of the other's chest plates. The prince robot blinked. His subconscious churned with discomfort.

What are you waiting for? You love blood.

Virgil clutched his stomach, eyes wider than ever before. In the silence, he heard it: a human heartbeat. Beating wild.

Taking advantage of the pause, the dented animatronic snatched up his bucket, poured half a second worth of running water, and threw the entire thing at Roman's face.

     Burning electricity stiffened metal joints. The floor tilted up, colliding against his forehead, chest, and knees. Cracks spread around his fallen body. A malicious presence lifted itself from his mind.

——————-

At least you're still connected. Hey, don't stop there. That is nothing of importance.

     Talyn kept staring at a lonely music box. They could swear it never came across their sight before, but it's unfamiliarity brought déjà vu.

Run. Kill the guard!

The puppet silently commanded their legs to move, but nothing occurred. Their body slacked into a state of immobility, frozen in place.

I really despise that margin of error in you.

Empty eyes wandered around the office. Any moment now...

     A ticking sound piqued their interest. Faint, and from a bottom drawer of the table. Talyn shuddered. Limbs refreshed, they investigated. An old newspaper with rough handwriting and a wristwatch sat inside. Again, familiarity rang out about one of these objects.

Odd. Pick it up.

Talyn reached for the newspaper—

No, idiot. The watch.

They switched targets. Elegant designs on a luxurious accessory awed them.

Leave it...outside. There's a maze of air vents inside the ceiling, one path leads to the back of the building. I'll send someone to pick it up soon, can't leave my home. I have a suspicion of a betrayal going around, but I can't be sure of it. Not yet.

———————-

"Thomas?"

     The light met him again. With the chest plates open, fresh air entered his system. It also stung brand new wounds.

     Salty liquid running down his cheeks added fuel to the burning sensation at his chin. The human didn't move.

"Thomas? How much aren't you okay?"

     His head rang like crazy, pulsating extreme discomfort on each nerve vessel. Open cuts stung his ankle, prickling with far more intensity than an insect bite.

"A lot." He wheezed. A metal taste swirled above his tongue. The guard expelled more of the red substance onto his uniformed sleeve. Explosive gagging followed.

Creaking gears brought forth the face of a disheveled robot as it lifted itself off the ground. At eye contact, both froze. Roman covered his mouth, as if he could hold back any vomit of his own. The human pressed his back against the inside wall of a metal giant, silently wishing for the artificial torso to seal him off from sight.

"Remember. William did this. Not you." Virgil's tight voice hummed above. "We need to take this off of the rest."

Roman's eyes focused on something out of his peripheral vision. He imagined Virgil holding up a circular, metal chip.

"Princey, lets get this over with."

     A metal hand approached him, outstretched and gentle. The human latched on to it, fingers trembling.

"I'll keep you safe."

     They held each other for several eternities, or a few moments...time warped inside his bruised forehead. His trust for this animatronic wasn't much to begin with, but now so much depended on it. Would he even last the night? Or get to see the sun again?

"I promise."

     Virgil's soothing voice crept into the human's anxiety, washing it away. His heartbeat slowed, calmed by the reassurance. The mechanical arm slid away. In the blink of an eye, metal plates clicked shut. Darkness reined again inside Virgil's chest cavity.

————————

5:00 am

Tsk. I have one more acti-i-veeeee......

     The man's voice drawled to a stop and completely disappeared from Patton's head. The exhausted robot groaned, unaware of the time or actions that passed. He opened his eyes, confused to see the ceiling. A twinge of electricity traveled up his legs, jerking his neck in return.

"Hey compadre...sorry about that." Roman leaned over, absent of his usual upbeat tone.

     Patton squinted. What....? What'd he miss?

"All we need is Talyn." The fanciful animatronic said, "Quick."

"Here," He couldn't see Logan, but the corner of a box came into his field of vision, "Visual or sound cues heavily linked with memories of any kind can work in our favor, it brings back the sense of one's self."

"Alright, better work." Virgil took the cubic object and cranked a rewind device. A soft melody trickled out.

The music box went on, echoing down the hallway. It's tune played louder in the night, seeking audience. Patton remembered the puppet once saying they loved its music so much because it helped them forget about the world. A little distraction eased their mind into calmness.

     Two shining dots appeared in the dark square of the ceiling. An air vent missing its lid revealed the hiding spot of his friend. Patton attempted to speak.

"H-h-heeeelllllllo-o-o-ooo." Vowels shuddered with the enthusiasm of a broken computer.

     Why was everyone looking for them anyways? Patton raised his hand and waved at them. He brought it to a halt.

     The marionette dived down, growling and hissing all the way to someone's face. Yelling commenced, a splatter of liquid aimed for Talyn. In a sizzle, they dropped to the ground.

     Patton stared back at his hand. Dried wine-red swirled around fingers and wrist. He turned his head. The same color tainted Logan's smile...Virgil's torso....

"Take him out." At the authoritative one's command, Virgil opened his chest plates and sat down. Arms slow and steady, he took out a pale-skinned, wounded human. The night guard.

     Oh. Oh no. The impulse to kill ran over his brain in the form of recent memories. He remembered so clearly trying to reach a living thing with the desire to crush it afterwards. Patton didn't recall laying a hand on Thomas, but he assumed someone else did. Any one of them did this. Yet the guilt lay heavy on him.

     The animatronic rose to a crawl, approaching the damaged human.

     Thomas rolled his eyes to him, any emotion at a bare minimum. A weak heartbeat hung on to life. The metal man cupped his palm against a bloody cheek.

"I'm sorry."

Virgil crouched to his level, "Listen dude, you didn't do this."

     Patton picked up the limp body, nestling Thomas to his chest. His embrace remained ever so gentle on the night guard.

"You guys are good people..." The human mumbled. "You deserve a good ending."

"Shhh," Roman kneeled, forcing himself to look at swollen eyes. "You'll be okay, too. Every knight makes it through every battle, and you're the bravest of them all."

"Am...I?" A delicate smile brightened Thomas' face.

The man's eyes darted to the four faces looking down at him, desperate to memorize every aspect of them. They lingered on Patton's, bristling without a sense of peace. His lips parted to form more words.

     Patton heard the weak intake of a breath. Before any syllable could be brought into existence a cold, fixed stare settled in. He no longer twitched to keep his chest moving up and down.

     And there was undeserved silence.

     The animatronic cradling him rubbed his back in smooth, circular strokes: mechanical yet precise. He waited for the guard to continue. Say more...go on....

"No." Virgil leaned in, moving bangs out of the human's face. "No no no no—Thomas?!"

"He's fine." Patton monotoned, continuing the gentle back rubs.

     Roman extended a hand to lay on the guard's chest. Patton pulled away, holding him tighter.

"He's fine."

The human's non-blinking stare matched another mascot in glasses. Hypnotic mutterings, the repeat of 3 words, buzzed from Logan. "He's still alive, he's still alive, he's still alive, he's still..."

He snapped himself out of the trance, now hysterically shouting.

"He's still alive! The brain is still active, remember?! 15! 10 minutes! Talyn!"

Logan scooped up the puppet, who had yet to move on their own. The marionette refused to express motion. Their eyes were absent; only two black holes stared back at the rest of the animatronics.

     A faint jingling of keys, the creak of a door opening, alerted those who stood alive. Virgil perked up, fear-striken. They all recognized the footstep pattern of the person coming into their restaurant: confident and with purpose.

One familiar figure's silhouette glided past dinning chairs, searching for the kill. A robot's eyebrows drew close together. Without warning, Roman charged at the intruder.

The mixture of grief and ire in his battle cry cut short when the prince collapsed after a 'beep'. At his downfall, a man stumbled over an array of chairs. Clattering and plastic snapping responded at the disturbance.

Eyes closed, Logan's body plummeted.

Crash!

Patton couldn't process the events unfolding before him. The numbness stiffened his joints, holding him and a half-dead body in place. His clouded gaze hovered over dark shapes; remotes.

     Remotes.

A rumbling fire inside him set ablaze, igniting gears and fury. Patton handed over the limp body to Virgil, who was more than panicked to receive it.

"He's not getting away with this." A tone set to deep and distorted escaped his voice box.

Leaving them and and no explanation behind, the animatronic bolted to the dining room. He snatched up a random remote and scanned the label.

'Anx'

Patton launched it over his shoulder and picked up another one, highly aware off the hitman getting to his feet.

'Puppet'

Yes! A metal finger aimed for the 'on' button.

Beep!

——————

Never in his life did he press a button faster.

     He watched the metal man drop dead, just milliseconds away from bringing one of his friends to life. Morality's remote fell beside him, unused. Logic and Puppet must've accidentally turned off when his remotes dropped, or when he fiddled with one at the parking lot.

Anx's body sat upright, an unidentifiable figure in his lap. Dim lights didn't permit his vision to get a clear look at it.

Dexter looked at the remotes bundled in his arms. Where did the fifth one go? He surveyed the room, squinting at a small, dark shape at the foot of a table. Aha!

     The man swooped it up.

     Next thing he knew, a solid object knocked the air out of him. It smacked his spine with enough force to send him toppling down. And again, the controls were scattered from him.

     Dexter rolled over, surprised to see a plastic kiddie chair next to him. He leapt up, right on time to see Anx reaching for an object at Morality's side.

     Son of a bitch!

     The manager frantically searched for the corresponding device. A quivering finger latched onto the right button.

Beep!

     Anx face planted on the ground, much to his short-lived amusement.

     He picked up the last remote, stashing it away in his coat with the rest, the corners of his lips curled down. Equipped with the necessary tools, he strolled ahead, already suspecting what was of the lumpy figure. No matter how many lives he took, the same thing happened upon seeing their fresh corpses.

     His eyes watered up.

Dexter shoved down the streams of guilt, letting his heart float into trained numbness.

"This is necessary." He mumbled to himself through clenched teeth. "Absolutely necessary...."

     After all, what else was one supposed to do to pay for medical bills and medicine that only a rich person could afford? Easy, he figured out years ago: earn tons by killing people for a living.

     The manager huffed out something between a laugh and stifled cry.

     Ironic, wasn't it? Taking away lives to save one.

     Shadows from the silent hallway consumed his face as he approached his ex-employee. Liquid pooling into tiles clung to the soles of his clean shoes, making a tap-tap: like a mere walk through a puddle of water. He stopped.

"You decoded all of it, huh?" Soft whispers floated to ears that would never hear them. Dexter slipped on a pair of latex gloves, fighting the trembling in his hands. "All the harmless sticky notes..."

     He bent down, soaking his knees in the dark puddle. "I'll make sure you get a grave, right next to the children. There's a nice place...on a hill—"

     He did not anticipate a mechanical hand flying from the floor and crushing his wrist.

Dexter shrieked.

     The ground claimed every remote. Logic stood, holding the manager by the wrist, up in the air. For a very long time, he believed that the children's essence inside the mascots were incapable of expressing emotion.

     Nothing topped the venomous light in Logic's eyes and invisible scowl.

     The animatronic drew his arm back and swung Dexter out of the way, warning him one last time with a demonic, mechanical scream. The human tumbled to a stop a few yards away, gasping from the living thunderstorm inside his arm.

     He scrambled to get up. Dexter eyed the main door, then at the pesky kid handling what controlled each of his friends. He made a run for the exit, not bothering to lock it afterwards.

"This is fine—" He grunted, racing to his car. "—perfect day, absolutely wonderful."

Dexter's left hand gripped the steering wheel, while the other lay on his lap. Funny, he couldn't feel it anymore.

"This is gonna be fuckin' worth it."

A silver car backed out of the parking lot, wheels screeched as it gained speed to zip onto the road. The hospital wasn't too far, but he needed to make a quick stop at a friend's place first. And the person in the hospital who needed all that cash would have to wait. Maybe if the health care system wasn't so greedy, he'd never have to pay ridiculous fees to keep her alive and well.

"You'll be okay."

     He eyed a yellow light and accelerated. The amber color reminded him of fool's gold; the same material crafted into a wristwatch given to him as a birthday gift. And unfortunately, left behind for the intention of drawing the night guard to the next piece of the puzzle, but it was useless now. Though, his payment from killing off another person out of William's list would be of use: one more step closer to helping Tori.

"I promise, sis."

———————

"Talyn!"

The marionette squinted an eye open. A blurry face loomed too close to them.

"Please." Roman picked them up by the torso and lay them next to a sleeping human. "He isn't too far gone. Please, bring him back."

They turned to the night guard, feasting their gaze on open wounds. "Thomas?"

The puppet instinctively threw their arms around his chest, not understanding what brought him to this situation. Talyn reached out a hand and grazed the man's face, yearning to see the cuts and swelled skin vanish. They moved on to other wounds, reversing each injury. However, the dried blood stayed, and so did the absence of a working heart.

No, this had to work.

Talyn skittered to his forehead, placing two palms over it, their fingers covering his eyes.

This needed to work. He needed to live.

     Concentration at its highest, they focused on the human's brain. Imagining the neurons and cells lighting up with activity again. Envisioning each section bustling with energy. Wishing for the blood to keep flowing through.

     Talyn peered at his face, searching for the flicker of eyelids.

——————————

"Dexter?" A tired man peered through his doorway, looking up and down at the person awaiting eagerly outside. "Why are you here so early?"

The manager shrugged, "Oh, just finished my job. I'd really appreciate getting what I earned, that's all."

The latter rubbed his eyes, grumbling. "Look, I'll pay you after Saturday."

     During their small talk, Dexter held his injured hand behind his back. He reasoned now to be a good time for an excuse and alibi.

"Sounds dandy and all, but I'm in a desperate need of cash. Oh look, I can't feel up to my elbow now." He dangled the bloody mess in the air.

     His associate didn't blink at the sight. "They sure did a