The rest of the day moved slowly. It continued to rain, so there wasn't much business. The halls were filled with the animatronics' singing, echoing eerily through the place with the same effect of playing a child's nursery rhyme at half speed and slightly off key.

Vincent kicked his feet up on the desk and tried to imagine the animatronics' songs as some twisted version of 'London Bridge is Falling Down'. Yep, that would definitely be better than this.

He wasn't quite sure when the building was creepier. During the day, where the tunes of the main 'tronics and Foxy's broken, shuddering calls reverberated off the building? When the dirty lights cast a sickly colour over the entire place? Or at night, when the silence is deafening, apart from distant clicks and whirrs, laughs and music-box music, letting you know that death is no more than one hallway away?

One thing was for certain; this place wasn't normal.

He didn't know how kids, or their parents, could stand to be in the building. Death and misery were soaked into the bricks like paint. A heavy sense of foreboding hung over it like a wet blanket. Walking through the doors felt like stepping into the jaws of some great beast. It was almost as if the building itself were alive, forcing despair and fear onto its inhabitants as revenge for the despair and fear that occurred within its walls. Harvesting on the negativity, feeding on it.

He could relate to that.

He flicked to the show-stage camera, watching the animatronics move in their grotesque imitation of dancing. He smiled to himself. He was fond of the animatronics. They were, essentially, his creation. Though another man may have pieced together the metal that was their bones and the plastic that was their skin, he was the one who created their souls. Gave them personalities, the ability to think, to fear, to hate, to kill.

He flicked to the Dining Hall camera. A group of around 10 children were sitting in the chairs, kicking their legs excitedly, eating pizza, laughing or singing along with the animatronics. He saw Scott leaning on the wall, smiling at a little kid who was parading around in a Freddy Fazbear t-shirt and a Puppet mask. The kid didn't seem to care that The Puppet hadn't been a functioning animatronic for years and years now, Vincent doubted that he even knew who the Puppet was, but he seemed happy.

The camera started to pan the room, moving slowly side to side. Alerted by the noise, Scott looked up. He waved up at Vincent, smiling a little more.

Vincent smiled and gave a little wave back at the screen, only then remembering that Scott couldn't see him.

He let the camera rest on the Dining Hall, looking at Scott, who turned his attention back to the Dining Hall - the kid had just broken his mask and was crying.

Scott squatted down on his knees and smiled at the little kid, saying something inaudible and then running off towards the backstage. Vincent flicked the camera to the backstage to see where he was going.

Scott walked in and looked up and down the shelves, humming to himself. Then he grinned and stopped pacing. Vincent squinted at the screen, trying to see what Scott was looking for, and then he saw the Toy Foxy mask that was on the top shelf.

Vincent snorted and leaned back in his chair. This would be fun. The top shelf was so tall that even Vincent had trouble reaching it unless he got up on his toes and stretched all his limbs.

Scott assessed the problem for a moment, then stood up on his toes and reached for the sky. His fingers only brushed the bottom of the shelf. He tried a few more times before resorting to jumping up and down on the spot, trying to grab the snout of the mask. Finally, with a sigh of annoyance, he turned back around and spotted the camera panning the room. He frowned, putting his weight onto one leg and his hands on his hips, "So, are you going to come help me, or what?"

 Vincent chuckled, and threw the tablet down on the desk before taking his legs off the desk and standing up. He made his way to the backstage, taking his time, walking slowly just to annoy Scott. When he got to the backstage, Scott was back at it again, reaching up with all his might but still getting no taller, and reaching no higher.

He stalked around the room, easing himself behind Scott and then moving forward, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling his own body up towards the smaller man. "You called?~"

Scott stiffened slightly in his grasp, but simply narrowed his eyes and mumbled something about phone jokes. "Glad you decided to help instead of just stalk me through the cameras."

"I wasn't stalking you..." Vincent said, leaning down slightly to kiss his neck. "I was watching you intently."

Scott, impossibly, stiffened even more under the contact and gasped a little, "Vincent...!"

"Mm...?" Vincent inquired distractedly, kissing his neck again, and again.

"Vincent... don't..." Scott warned, but it was a lame excuse for a warning. He pushed back against the arm restraining him.

Vincent chuckled again and reached up to grab the Toy Foxy mask. He let go of Scott and stepped back to give him breathing room, "Sorry."

"Thank you," Scott said, turning around and taking the mask from Vincent.

"No problem," Vincent replied, not making any movement to leave the room. Staring, unblinking, at Scott. Vincent had a knack for reading body language - it, uh, came with his profession - and he could tell that Scott had more to say. The way that he was nervously fiddling his hands, how his eyes were darting around a little, even the fact that his pupils were dilated.

Scott looked at him for a moment, then bit his lip, "You know, actually... there's... there's something I wanna ask you..."

"Ask away," Vincent said, intrigued.

Scott took a deep breath, "I... I was kinda wondering..."

"Hey, you! Mr. Employee! Have you got my mask yet?"

Scott and Vincent both turned to see the little kid from before standing in the doorway, broken Puppet mask in one hand, the other hand stretched out towards the Toy Foxy mask.

"Sorry, kiddo," Scott walked over, squatting down and placing the mask over the boy's head. "Be careful, though. This one's not a costume, it's the real thing. Try not to break it."

"Cool!" the kid squealed, "I'm Foxy's girlfriend!" Giggling, he ran out of the room.

"Wasn't the mangle a boy?" Scott mumbled towards Vincent.

"Scott, I don't think even it knew whether it was a boy or a girl. None of us did, that's for sure," Vincent said. "You never know, it could have been both. It certainly had enough parts... You really feel comfortable giving kids masks again?"

Scott's expression became sombre, he straightened up and looked out of the door of the backstage to the little kid who was running around in the Toy Foxy mask. "We should get back to work."

Vincent nodded hastily, realising he'd touched a nerve, "Uh, yeah, alright. Hey, why don't you ask if we can lock up together again tonight? I'd like that."

"Yeah, so would I," Scott said, sounding distant and emotionless. He walked out of the backstage back towards the Dining Hall.

Vincent walked out after him, heading back down the East Hall towards the Office, the only sound the animatronics' continued singing and children laughing. He turned into the Office and closed the door behind him; something that he wasn't technically supposed to do during the day, but something that drowned out the noise and allowed him to focus on his job. He walked over to the other door and closed that, too.

He sat down in the Office chair, kicked his feet up and reclined the chair back. The room was quiet, the only sound being the metal fan clicking away, rattling as if the blades were about to fall off. Vincent closed his eyes and sighed. Yep. Definitely better to focus on his job.

He was just dozing off when a single sound reverberated through the room, clear and pure.

"Hello?"

Vincent sat up instantly, leaning over to the Office desk and picking up the tablet.

The little boy from before was standing in the backstage, alone. It was hard to see him in the dark room, something only the Office guard would be able to see.

"Hello, Mr. Employee Man? You can have your mask back!"

A wide grin stretched across Vincent's face. Quickly and quietly, he opened the door of the Office and walked out.