So, Darkwood, can you sing, I would love some talent to be recorded. Darkwood: sure thing, bonnie, get the guitar. *Clears throat* here we go. [spoiler]Dark clouds. They circle over rusted seas. A rusted boat, with rusted me. My hook and hand are far from clean. The grisly tale of old Foxy. The tattered colors fly, of Freddy Fazbear fame. The wind and cannons cry, the same old dark procession. The clang of steely blades, the sound of good ol days. My life before this bleak and dreary kids profession. My servos snap and twitch, a deep sub conscious itch to scratch the surface of my violent life before. The kiddies gather round. In a circle they sit down. I preach the tales of old, the ones that I adore. But then the kids go home and I'm alone with bots who say that it's all play. I sailed the 7 oceans. I had my time. Now I go through the motions, preaching my crimes. I bet they think I'm crazy. My past's not true. But they'll all see, one day I'll show you. As Foxy's tales grew more and more, behind that mask waged mental war. The war of 42, the Beast of Daranue. All stories I can cling too when I'm feeling low. My owners fix my parts, but could not fix my heart. Despite their claims, I was a pirate long ago. Many years will pass behind the glass I see the town that holds me down. I sailed the 7 oceans. I had my time. Now I go through the motions, preaching my crimes. I bet they think I'm crazy. My past's not true. But they'll all see, one day I'll show you. Foxy cooked up more than he could take. (Seven years upon the mast, I thought I'd breathe my last) In his turmoil something had to break. (I'd muster up my will, and seize the final kill) The world outside is cruel. But in my own I rule. My fantasies come true with every dark ambition. My stories true or not, they cause my mind to clot. I'm programed only to kill, forbidden is my mission. (Foxy fought with his violent thoughts making sure for you that they don't come true. But alas, the day came to pass where he snapped in two and took it out on you.) I must contain myself. Keep my feelings on the shelf. But how long will they stack atop before they fall. Perhaps I've got it wrong. I'm singing the wrong song. I'll prove to you that I am true. I'll show you all. They shut poor Foxy down. Too long he played the clown. And after all that strain, he finally went insane. But Foxy's still with us, yet still we don't discuss the day that Foxy failed. The day of Foxy's Tale.[/spoiler] Yes great talent, as I'd expect from an Irishman like youself. Meanwhile in the bathroom You walk into the retro futuristic looking bathroom but something is very wrong. You smell the prominent scent of blood around the corridor, you see a trail of blood leading to the supply closet in the bathroom.

*walk to closet and open it* Jesus Christ... *dead man I've never seen is in closet. Open window nearby with bloody footprints leading to it* this is a bad idea... *climbs out window and follows foot steps* *comes around corner and is attacked by Kylli* shit... *pull out knife and attention to stab him* *fight goes on for about five min* he's dead... *i search his body and find a piece of paper that has a set of coordinates, a key, and a map of a cave on it* the hell is this? *come back through window, clean off blood and come back* he says he does not feel good at all, and probably won't be out for a while *whispers* I found these on him. *gives paper, map, and key*