Steve unlocked the front door, and clocked in. He woke up the main 3, and went to kids cove. Steve aimed a kick at Mangle, to wake it up. Mangle made a sound that had too much of a garbled radio to completely discern.

“Yeah yeah, shut up.” Steve said as he left the room.

Mangle made a bark noise, but didn’t do anything else. Steve made sure the cooks were accounted for, and that they had all washed their hands, because he’d rather keep this job.

He went to the backroom, and checked on the old models, no matter how much he hated them. They were all in their places, staring blankly on. He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating, but he swore that one of them was… smiling? Those old suits had always scared the hell out of him, ever since they took them out of commission because they smelled like corpses. He shuddered, and returned to his office to spend the day doing nothing. Nobody showed up anymore, what used to draw crowds and form lines now drew local families for birthdays and out of towners who hadn’t heard the tragedies. He sighed, maybe it was time to quit. He’d worked for William for years now, and he was starting to get tired of the patterns of a stable job being lost to a murder… patterns. The same pattern, over and over again. New place, followed by a murder… something was wrong. First Fredbear and the little kid, then the old diner and… that little girl and those 4, this wasn't a coincidence, this was… this was a serial crime. Someone was behind these killings, and Steve wasn’t going to let it happen again. Every mishap, every wrong step, every bot malfunction had resulted in bloodshed, and yet it was always one person. First, William’s own son, then a little boy to a tragic accident. Steve pondered what this could imply, dreading who would be snuffed out next. He wasn’t sure how William or Henry even kept these places running, something tragic happening every time.

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