Pension- Catalyst (3)

	Blinded once more.

I checked the cameras again after three minutes, hoping in no small lot that I would have my eyes again, even if the red clot covered all of my lenses this time.

No such luck.

It was here, that I decided to sneak past my guards, and update myself on the windows situation.

I crouched and used my fingers to keep balance along the sticky, tiled floor. I didn't notice it before, but some foundation soil was visible between the boundaries of each square tiles. I actually became self-aware of my feet, sinking the tiles into the ground, at this little moment. Even the most boring, ordinary and day-to-day things have little secrets to them. This place's secrets being dirtier than others.

I flipped on the cameras as I stood at the right cabinet of the desk, and angled it towards the east hall.

Nothing. There wasn't a chicken, bear, or even a shadow.

I even bent closer to the glass to try to get an angle of more rooms.

My static tablet could see into a decent part of the east hall. It was completely barren.

Through the windows reflection, I saw the camera feed come back up, with the familiar click I associated with it now.

As this occurred, behind me I heard metal pounding repeatedly, getting louder and closer.

The sprint ceased, and I heard two very familiar knocks on my west door.

The metal pounding began again, and trailed off somewhere in the parlor.

I should have been frightened, maybe even angry at the audacity my former prisoner had to resume it's games so soon, but really, I was confused.

What was the point in scaring a man who already knows he was dead?

I didn't need an answer to that question though.

I collapsed into my chair, and got back into action.

Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie were all on stage and holding their respective props. Their heads were twitching like a spastic, but at this point I honestly did not care anymore. I was all but certain the afterlife would have free rooming, and Hell was going to be nothing compared to the torment I endured for three, almost four, nights. These flippant thoughts were the one thing from this job that I missed, when I got my new one.

I flicked over to the Cove. Hiding behind his curtain.

Time was 2 A.M.
42.23%.

42.20%.

Sighing, I stood up, and walked to open the east door.

Let those bastards come.

I paused, and picked up an object of interest on the desk.

It was the cupcake Chica was supposed to hold. Or a copy of it, anyways.

I noticed it last night, but forgot all about it. I didn't like getting too close to that desk when I worked, actually. It had an... Off smell to it. Something I couldn't name.

I held it up to my ear, and shook it. Something sifted around, like sand, on the inside.

The cold, metal surface made it difficult to find creases, but I managed. I opened it like a thermos, unscrewing the creepy, bug-eyed head, and held it under the one hanging light bulb in my room.

My thumb fell in it during my attempt to grip it.

I felt a little rounded object beneath the sand. My thumb fished it out of the container.

The "sand" was dark grey, and the little object gleamed white in the light.

I gagged, and almost dropped it in disgust.

I found the lid on a nearby chair. It's "eyes" were covered by grey eyelids, until I screwed it back on. I placed the tooth back into the container before doing so, and rubbed the ash off my fingers, into the plastic tiled floor.

I placed the cupcake onto the floor next to my chair, and opened the west door.