I may not have had any nightmares the day before Mom died, but I sure did tonight.

All the dead kids I had known and found myself getting familiar with were all fused into an angry mass of spirits, like when I saw them all for the first time. My sister was a giant robot clown who had me in a grip with a metal claw protruding from her stomach. Mom was another robot. A ballerina with purple hair. Dad was off in a corner, laughing maniacally and holding a bloody knife. He looked like he was covered in blood as well. A man I didn't know was sitting next to Dad, well, he was leaning on him, trying to console him. All the while there was screeching. I couldn't cover my ears. I tried to look around for help, but when I looked up, I saw my brother hanging from the ceiling.

I woke up in a cold sweat. It was still dark and I didn't want to move just in case I was still dreaming. I did let myself peek at my alarm clock, and saw that it was only four o'clock. It's not that early. Moving out of my bed to the window, I observed the blue line of light on the horizon, and kept my eyes on that. One more thing I was fed up with was darkness. I'm not sure why turning on the light never crossed my mind, but I liked the sunrise better.

Who was that one man in my dream? Was he the same one talking to me last night? He must've already been dead, since he was able to talk to me.

"You might want to check on your brother," The man's voice said behind me.

"Hn?" I turned, to be greeted by nothing. Not that I was expecting anything. "Why?"

"What was he doing in your dream last night?" His voice sounded so relaxed and confident.

"You can see my dreams?"

"It was hardly a dream."

My stomach dropped.

"What do you mean? I can only see dead people in-"

"You're funny, kid. Sure, it was a dream, but... Charlie and I saw you too."

"Charlie?" I cried.

All of a sudden, my door swung open with Dad standing right behind it. He didn't look too thrilled.

"Who the hell are you talking to?" He asked through his teeth. The man laughed.

"Ah! William! Long time no see!"

"Uh..."

"Unless it's your mother, please go back to bed."

"It's, uh... actually someone that... I think you knew," I said. Dad raised an eyebrow.

"I know a lot of people."

"It's Henry."

"It's Henry," I repeated. Henry? The guy Mom was telling me about? And he mentioned... Charlie?

"Henry?" Now it was Dad's turn to laugh. "Henry is talking to you?"

"I guess?" I argued. "That's what he said! He said something about a Charlie-"

"Yep. It's Henry."

"Who is he?" I asked.

"An old amigo from way back when."

"Huh?"

"Just an old friend of mine. He helped me. In... getting Freddy's off the ground."

"Yeah, until you murdered my daughter."

"He said you killed his daughter," I informed.

"Honestly, it could've been anyone."

"Charlie said you killed her," I restated, getting a little more angry.

"Well, a six year old who's facing death isn't counted on to be the brightest." Dad didn't say anything about me talking to Charlie. "And then Henry was a wuss who couldn't live after his divorce and his precious daughter getting killed by an unknown character who he's speculated to be his best friend, and calls me the weak one."

This is horrible, why does he talk to you like this? I thought, hoping Henry could hear my thoughts directed at him.

"It's true, that's one reason."

How is that true?

"It just is..."

"Michael, are you listening to me?"

"I'm listening to you say terrible things about your friend," I muttered. Dad raised an eyebrow. He laughed.

"Henry was a terrible friend. He befriended me out of pity and grew on me. Somehow. Kind of like your... well, I don't think you'd remember her."

"Who?"

"Well, you do talk about her a lot."

"Who?" I asked, much louder.

"Rachel. You were her pity friend. Didn't you know?"

"No," I forced out. "I didn't."

"I saw no other reason for her to be your friend."

"Will you two shut the hell up?" Terry asked from the door.

"You're alive!" I cried.

"Yes, I'm alive?" Terry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I just cried myself to sleep and I woke up to you two talking about Rachel and Henry and Charlie. And no, Michael, she wasn't your pity friend. Dad's just trying to make himself feel better about his life." Dad must not have had a counter argument, because he just stood where he was, his face red. I bit my lip.

"Then what's true about Henry?" I asked.

"Lord, I could go on for days about him," Terry sleepily laughed. "But I'm going back to sleep. I'd recommend you two both do the same." Complying, Dad silently left my room. Terry looked over to me. "What?"

"I'm just glad you're alive," I said.

"Why?"

"I had a dream and you were hanging and Henry freaked me out by telling me to check on you."

"Hm."

"Could you also tell me about Henry, too?" I asked before Terry left.

"Sleep first," He said before closing the door.

Right. Right.

"You should probably go to sleep," Henry said.

"Yeah... Was Dad right?"

"More or less. I didn't care for him all that much at first, but... well, he grew on me. For a pretty long time, he wasn't horrible at all."

"What happened?" I asked.

"He was screwed from the start. Then Liz died, you died, he killed a bunch of people... something twisted in his head has been working on him for a while."

"What's going to happen?"

"I have no clue. But really, kid, you should go to bed."

"Yeah, sorry."

I made myself go to bed and actually was able to fall into a dreamless sleep for a few hours before I was woken up by the sun glaring through my window. I buried my head under my pillow and tried to fall back asleep, because all of a sudden, I was not ready to go about the day. All of my emotions seemed to be finally put together and all I wanted to do was stay in bed.

I heard my door open.

"Hey, you, want to learn about your weird-ass disappearance?" Terry asked.

"Later," I mumbled. Terry laughed. "What?"

"I figured. Well, talk to me later."

"Why are you okay all of a sudden?" I asked.

"Denial. I'll probably be messed up again soon. So do you want to wait for weeks? Or hear everything now."

Not really feeling like waiting, I sat up and told Terry to tell me everything.

"Everything? Henry and you missing and the whole deal?"

"Yes!" I demanded. "Well, more of my not being around. I do want to know about Henry."

"Alright," Terry closed my door and sat down on the bed with me. "Where do I start?"

"When I died."

"Alrighty, then," Terry started. "It's actually not that long a story, but it's... weird."

"Well can you get to it?" I snapped.

"Okay, okay," Terry defended. "Let's see."

I had just died. It was August 14th, hardly a week after my birthday when I got bit by Fredbear, and just in the past November, my sister had died. I had been planned to be buried next to Liz, but very quickly, Dad made a change of plans to have me cremated. Him and Mom had a huge fight over it, but in the end, Dad got his way. He swore up and down to Mom that he buried the ashes with Liz, which Mom also didn't want him to do, but let it go and planted the cross since I never had any kind of headstone.

In time, Dad had started spending every free hour he had in the basement, doing... something. He woke up long before everyone else and was up until some ungodly hours of the night. Terry said he would sometimes wonder how much sleep Dad actually ever got. It must've been very little, because Terry said that in the times he did get to see Dad, he looked tired beyond all gettup. Something about this tiredness must've grown him closer to Mom, though.

"You'd think they hated each other," Terry said, "But as soon as they're apart for so long, they're inseparable for the next while."

Mom and Terry were both very worried about Dad's well being, but a few days before I was re-introduced to the world, Dad went and pretended he was fine the whole time. He had a normal sleep schedule, he didn't act like he was going insane.

"But once," Terry went on, "It might've been some weekend when Mom pulled Dad out of the basement by going in there herself, I heard her and Dad fighting in the kitchen about... something, but all I heard was something Mom said about, 'If you loved your son, you would bury him and not keep his dead body in a box in the basement.'"

"Eugh!" I cried, leaning back. "He what?"

"Look, I don't know, but I think Mom might've seen some of what Dad was working on, and... either it was, or it looked like your body."

My stomach turned.

"What the hell?" I croaked.

"I don't know, man, it weirded me out too."

"I have to go see it!" I cried.

"What?"

"I need to go see the basement!"

"No!" Terry shouted. "Oh, God, no! You'd die! Again! Dad has that place maximum security prisoned to hell! He'll catch you if you so much as go near the door LEADING to the basement!"

"So I do it while he's at work?" I suggested.

"No. No. Mom. She'll- shit..."

"Mom's gone."

"I figured that out," Terry said. "But... Dad has no backup security while he's at work now..."

"Wait, so-"

"No! No. Just... forget I said anything. Unless you care to know more about Henry?"

"Uh, no," I said. "I can talk to him." Terry pursed his lips and nodded before leaving my room.

"Go to the basement," A voice whispered in my ear. It wasn't Henry, Liz or Mom. It was another voice, one that I'd never heard before but felt so fitting for the clown girl in my dream.