Hints of the FNAF 3 trailer, HUGE SPOILERS

[voiceinthephone]

Hello? Hello, mun...uh, nice to see you again...you know I'm starting to not like you. First off, what the hell was that thing?! A G-Golden Bonnie?!

If I wasn't already dead there, I'd kill management! This is a complete insult to the Fazbear name and the murders! OUR DEATHS BECAME AN AMUSEMENT FOR HORROR JUNKIES! Not to mention THAT THING?! I'm gonna give the gang one hell of a time-out for building that!


At least I'm somewhat okay in...what's that? You think I need- No. Stop thinking that. That's dangerous.

[Phil please.]

You and I both know I don't, and I quote, "need Fritz, Mike, or Jeremy's help in Panem". I lost Jeremy to the Bite, Fritz is long gone and Mike might as well stay the hell away. I appreciate you wanting me to not be lonely in that brave new world, and I've made friends...ish...but that's cruel!

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[voiceinthephone]

[Finding the letter was probably the only thing that saved Mike from certain puppet-induced death, "I got it! I got the letter! Where do I send it to?"

Phillip arched an eyebrow at that, maybe there was some salvation on the horizon. He grabbed the phone and made one more call]

Her name is Karen Anderson. She lives nearby...she knows. [Knows what, it was up to the imagination.

Mike couldn't run fast enough to get that letter going. This made Phil come up with a plan: the Marionette could torment Mike as much as he'd like. In turn, this made Schmidt vulnerable for Gray's machinations, if to stop the torture. It was manipulative but it was for the best.]

[themarionette]

[ huh. Mike Buttface actually did it. he found the letter, Mr. Phil told him where to deliver it, and off he went. maybe he can give Mike a little more credit than he originally thought.

now, Marionette's not sure of what to do. mama won't be coming here anymore, and the restaurant was likely being shut down again, after the big head office guys come down to see the mess they've made. the music is left unattended, so he has free roam of the building ... but for how long, until they're all disassembled and boxed away?

hopping down from the ceiling into the office, the puppet makes his way over to the desk, eyeing the pictures and threatening scribbles he left for Mike. it's hard, trying to come to grips with the fact that it was all over now. how was he supposed to get the purple man now? ]

[voiceinthephone]

Don't you give up.

[As stern as the voice was, Phillip had faith that Mike could listen to everything he had to say and to argue that the Pizzeria could be preserved or...reused in some way.]

We'll find him and then you can do onto him what you did to me.

[themarionette]

[ giving up wasn't an option. Marionette still wanted to get the purple man, to hurt and torment him as much as the other children and himself had been. but what chance would they have if the pizzeria closed down? what if he was disassembled with the others?

gathering up a few of the scribbles, the puppet started crawling back to his box in the prize room. it was hard not to feel a little hopeless. after all, who was to say Mike wasn't calling emergency services right now and telling them about the scene at the diner? the police and the detectives will be here in no time. ]


H̱e̪̩̖ w̲̥̠̟on'̭͖̭̤̘͔t̞̣͖̭ ̹̻͖͙͈̹̙b̥͓e̫̯̫ c̦̤̹̩͖o̰͎m̮̦̻i͉̭͉͕̳͈̙n̪̞̩̖g̘ ̲͈͙b̲͍̻̲͓a̭̥͉͙̜͍̘ck̞̩̖ͅ ̹n̙͚̦̩̲̥o̥͎w͕͈͍̪͙.͈̣͓͙̯̻͕ ̰N̬̤̜͍ͅo̖̻t̼̗͕ ̳̺̜͔̤̗a̺͉̖̬̱͚f͉͉͓̰t̪̠͇̥̟̲e̻̪̫̤̖̮̳r͕̟̪̻̮̻̝ ͕h̘̭̭̭͕̗e̝̤͚͚ ͚͇̬̭̘̫͈f̟͓͈̲̪̤̱in͚̯͇͎̣d̬͚͚̱s ̳̠̝͙̳͈͉o̻u͍̝̪͚̟t͇̳͎͕̙̩ ̣a̝̦̺bͅo͔̳̯̱͕u̯͈t̻ ͈̙wh̺̙a̭̮̮̯̩̖ͅt ẖ͈̦̦̭̪̼a̟͔p̞̘̖̳̝̫͔p͇̱̣̪̜̹e̹̣̟͓̰̭n̻̦̠̝͔e͍̥͉̞͇͕d̞̱ ̝̠̘̘̙͕͕h̻͈̞̘̖͚͉e͍̫͎̬̬̺͓r̝͕̙̪̝̳͖e̬̻̼̯͇̼.̻̻̺̘̼̩͈

[voiceinthephone]

If he hasn't after finding all the corpses and cleaning out...[Phil hoped Mike had some of that fear in him.]

Besides, I bet seeing your mom will help him understand how severe this all is. That shutting this place down will do nothing.

[themarionette]

[ --oh he was talking about Buttface. the puppet couldn't care less about what happened to that guy. sure, he'll be fun to haunt and harass, and they could always fashion a suit of his very own for him. but what happens to Mike isn't as much of a concern. ]

I̺̹̠̰͔̱͎ ̖d̹̮̮̲̰͚̙on͉̭͚͕͖'̤̰̬̠͎̞͔t ̥͙c͈͓͈̹a̗͉͓̙͔͇̞r̰̙e̳̦̖̥ ̘̳a̠̤̻̩͈̰̱b̟͇̤o̙̣̤̙uț͕̱͍̦ ̰͈̻̪͕ḥi͙͉̜̯̪m.̣ ͎̠Ḭ̗̩̲̞̣ ̲̩̼̪̩͍w̤̰̞a̻̖̙̙̼̩̳n̬͎̠͉͍͖t̜͔̝̦̤̼̭ ͇̣t̫̭h̥̼̱̞e̺̦͇̲ͅ ͍͈̹p͎u͙̦͕̤̟̘͓r͔̙̲͖̯̩p͈̪͇̞͈l͇̻e̼̭̖̜͈ ̜̜͔̩̠m̪a͕̠̣̱n͈.̯͍̳

[voiceinthephone]

I know you don't but Mike isn't leaving...he'll help us, okay? [That letter was the last attempt at Phil to communicate with the outside. Now to focus on everything inside the restaurant]

[themarionette]

Y̞̖̠͚̞ͅo͖̦̪̜u̟͉͇̺ ̜t̹̹̠rṵ̗s̙̟̮͖͉͎t h̥̜͉i̫m̠̤̠ ̫̯t̫̺̣o̮̻̜̟o ̫̺̫̬mu̝c͙̪̣͇͍h̫̜͕.̠̹͙̪̦͙̙ [ muttered coldly while the puppet starts tearing up some of the papers, one by one into tiny pieces. ]

H̰e̟͖̜͉̯'͔͎s̞͓̣ ͉̩̭p̺̥̪̬͕̱̟ṛ̮̰̦̥̣̱o̟̦̬b̭̜a̦̲̮̩̹b̰̬̼͍͈̥l͔̖͕͇͉̰͍y̰̱̰ ̘̠r̟̹̺̠͈u͉͖͇͙̼͔͓nn͍i̖̼̰̰̯̩͓n͎͈͕̭g̖͖̬̗̯̬ ̞̦͈̜̣͖̮f͎̙̝̯̫̗o̠͎̤͍͉͎r͓̯̭͎͍ͅ ̖̜͈̖̻͖he͈̹̮̹̥̲l͙p̲ ̗̞̫͖ͅr͖̫̪̰̗i͕̖g̟̠͓̠ͅht̥ ̦͈̲͇̺n̮̟̤͇͍o̖̳̬̤w̥̬͔̦̤̥.͚̰̳̩͎

[voiceinthephone]

Maybe...I trusted you, so clearly, I'm a moron. [he wasn't that bitter about that. He was dead, what else could happen? What fresh hell was he in for?]

[themarionette]

[ oh, Mr. Phil. you always know how to make Marionette laugh, in his creepy, distorted and disturbing way. ]

Y̩͖̤͍̭͕ͅe̖̼̳̦̤̦ͅa͍̗̦̱h̰͕̱̤͉.̞ ͖̝̺̪̭̝ͅY̘̖̜̦͕o͉u̩͕͓͈̰̼͇ ̟rͅe̗̣̫͖̩̣̬a̝͕͕̱̲l̫l͓̰y ͖͇a̹̖͖̭r͕̬̩̪̟e͓̣͔͔.͖ ̹̭̬͙͕͕I̪̩t͙̯̝̦'̳̫̺̼̹͍s͉ ̣̼̞̠̙̟ͅf̖u̹̜n̤̮̱̯̹̙n͕̤̠̗̯y̪̮̜̩̝̳.̮ [ and he'll be crawling back into his box now, with his shredded drawings, done for the day. until the next person arrives to open his box. ]