Deceptive

Back at it Again

"Th-there's an open spot o-over there!"

Foxy pulled into the parking spot Freddy had pointed out and put the car in park. He had just started pulling his keys out of the ignition when somebody knocked on the window.

When he looked up, he found Michael and Charlie waving at him. He quickly rolled the window down. "Hey, how long have you guys been out here?"

"About ten minutes. Charlie's been filling me in on all of the details."

"Well, I guess that saves us time." Foxy unlocked the doors. "Hop in. We're just gonna head to a library pretty much around the corner and start our search there. Bal said it'd be quicker than driving back."

Michael and Charlie piled into the backseat with Freddy.

Foxy put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot.

"How are you, Charlie?" Ballora asked as soon as they were back on the road.

Charlie's left arm was in a sling. "I have a fractured clavicle now, but other than that I'm fine," she told her.

Foxy turned on his blinker and took a right. "I hope Elizabeth loses that knife before we meet her again."

"That's a nice thought, but I doubt anything Dad builds needs an actual weapon to seriously hurt you."

Elizabeth's threat to jam her fingers into Foxy's eye sockets passed through his mind again. He drew a shuddery breath and pulled into the parking lot of the library. It was almost empty aside from about three cars. The sun was beginning to set in the sky.

Foxy and company headed inside and settled themselves at a table in the very back, nestled behind a couple of bookshelves stuffed full of non-fiction titles.

"What should we do first?" Foxy questioned, setting the bag full of Elizabeth and Riley's stuff down by his feet.

"Since they're the most recent clues we have, we should take a better look at that stuff from the office," Charlie suggested.

Michael nodded in agreement. "There haven't been any recent reports or articles that sound suspiciously like Dad. I checked after Foxy called. Whatever Elizabeth was keeping hidden is probably our best bet right now."

Foxy unzipped the backpack and stuck his hand inside, pulling out whatever he came in contact with first, which happened to be that red bottle and a couple of those disturbing photographs. He set them down on the tabletop, making sure the pictures were facedown before mumbling out a warning to Michael and Freddy.

Michael pulled the photos towards himself with a deep frown on his face.

Freddy took the bottle, twisting the black cap off and bringing the substance close to his face.

"Uh, maybe you shouldn't—" Foxy started, only for the rest of his sentence to die on his tongue when Freddy stuck his into the bottle.

"Shouldn't wh-what?"

"Nevermind." He sighed.

Freddy went for a second taste of whatever the red liquid was and squinted at it. "This t-tastes like f-f-fake blood," he announced.

Ballora sent him an expression somewhere between worried and confused. "Why exactly do you know what fake blood tastes like?"

"I g-got curious one day!"

Charlie slowly took the bottle away, putting the cap back on. "You know, that would make sense. Elizabeth's blood was just part of the illusion that the disc created, so she probably used this to make her bandages actually look bloody."

"What else is in there, Foxy?" Ballora asked.

He pulled out the lighter and set it gingerly on the table. "Her lighter," then came the rest of the photographs, which Michael took, looking slightly ill after having viewed the others, "and more of these. That's it."

"What about the jacket? Did you bring it? Some stuff fell out of Riley's jacket the first time I picked it up. Maybe there's still something in there. We could check the pockets."

The jacket sat by itself in the biggest cavity of Foxy's bag. He unzipped it and stared down at it. He stared at it for a solid minute before he gently pushed it away with his foot.

"Somebody else pull it out. I can't touch it again."

Michael grabbed the bag after a long stretch of nobody else doing so. "I'll do it." Hesitantly, he pulled the article of clothing out. It was so shredded that it took him a second to actually locate one of the pockets. It was closed with a zipper, which didn't seem to want to budge at first.

Everyone watched as Michael stuck his hand in.

"Empty," he told them.

He tried the other pocket. There did seem to be something in that one. The whole group leaned in to get a better look at what he dropped onto the tabletop: a couple of screws a folded-up piece of paper.

Charlie picked up the paper and unfolded it, reading out what was written on it. "Two, zero, one, four." She looked up at everyone. "Do those numbers mean anything to anyone?"

There was a collective no.

Foxy plopped the folder he had brought from their first search onto the table. "Maybe we can find what they mean in here?"

"I suppose it's worth a shot."

Foxy, Charlie, and Freddy started to thumb through the old papers.

After a few minutes, Ballora noticed that Michael hadn't moved and seemed to be staring down at the photos. She placed a hand on his forearm. "Are you alright?"

"I think I know."

"Pardon?"

"I think I know," Michael repeated slightly louder, gaining everybody else's attention. "I know what the numbers mean."

Foxy blinked. "You do?"

"The house we grew up in had a shed in the backyard. The thing was always locked with a number lock and this is the combination. I remember because Dad wouldn't tell me what it was so I spent about three hours figuring it out on my own. Got a nasty sunburn on the back of my neck sitting out there."

"Are you sure?"

There was no way that they found a lead so quickly.

"What if Afton uses that set of numbers as his default password for everything?"

"He wouldn't. That would mean that if somebody got into one of his things, they'd be able to get into all of them. He would never let that happen. He was always really secretive about his work. And the photos were taken in that shed." Michael pointed to a couple. "Look, you can see the tines of a rake in this one. And I think that's the lawnmower in that one."

He looked up at all of them and was met with silence. A silence that was only broken when an unfamiliar voice spoke up.

"Excuse me?"

Practically the entire group jumped like a gun had been fired next to their ears.

There was a young-looking librarian in slacks and a purple sweater hovering near their table. "We're closing in five minutes."

"Right, of course. We'll be out the door in a second." Foxy's words dangerously bordered on shaky and he was sent a slightly concerned look.

"Alright... have a nice night."

"You too."

They all watched as the librarian walk away. The very moment that she was on the other side of the bookcases, Michael started to shovel everything back into Foxy's bag.

"...Do you remember where the house is?" Foxy asked.

"Address has never left my head," he replied. "Let's head over there."