"Vincent!" Scott shouted, pounding on the door, but it didn't open again. "Vincent, please, oh gawd, please just hang in there!" He sunk to his knees on the tiles and looked down in surprise when he felt his knees get wet. A dark, metallic-smelling liquid was seeping out of the door.

Scott's eyes widened. He knew what it was. "Oh no..." he shakily got to his feet, feeling panic rise inside of him.

Vincent was gone.

Vincent was gone, and he was in the pizzeria, and it was still night time. He took a shaky breath. His first priority was getting out alive. He ran the little corridor and then turned the West Hall Corner, and then paused.

At the end of the West Hall was Chica.

Scott cursed. There was no going back, and no going forward. He desperately looked around for some other method of escape and then he saw it. Right in the middle, between him and Chica, was a vent. One of those ones that lets steam out of the kitchen. He ran down the hall and started prying at the vent cover, pulling it off and clambering inside.

Wait here until 6.

Wait here until 6.

But then he heard a wheezing, groaning sound, and he looked back to see that Chica was standing at the vent. He held his breath - geez, she smelt awful - and made no sound. She shouldn't be able to bend down, so he would be safe.

But as Scott forgot, she also shouldn't be able to walk. Or kill.

There was the sound of animatronic gears clicking and cranking, and some larger sounds as Chica leant down and put her head into the vent.

Scott yelped and started crawling as fast as he could crawl through the vent, seeing the end of it. The Kitchen. He kicked the vent cover off and crawled out, fastening it back on behind him. Not that that would stop Chica. But he could try.

He stood up and turned around, and screamed.

In the middle of the kitchen sat a suit. That mysterious Golden Freddy suit he'd seen in his hallucinations. He blinked at it.

It didn't move.

He took a shaky breath. 'It's just a suit,' he reminded himself. 'No animatronic parts. Therefore it can't move.'

He carefully eased his way around it and to the large window on the other side of the kitchen. He tried to pull it up, but it was locked. He fished around in his pocket for the keys, and heard a groan from the vent. Chica had come through and was pushing the vent cover off.

"Oh, screw it," Scott picked up a saucepan and held it by the handle, smashing the window. He started to climb out of it. The sharp glass pierced his hands and legs, but he didn't care. He was alive, and that was the main thing. He looked back at the pizzeria one last time, and he could have sworn he saw Golden Freddy move out of the corner of his eye, but when he snapped his focus on him, he was back to sitting limply in the middle of the kitchen. The vent cover snapped off and Chica pulled herself out of the vent.

Yep, that was all Scott needed to see. He ran away as fast and hard as he could until he couldn't run anymore and he collapsed on some back street not too far from his house.

Scott put his head in his hands and cried.

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