The Twisted Ones

by Scott Cawthon

was thrown away or burned. Technically I should have treated it like what it was: a break in the missing kids case, over a decade old. Everything would have been bagged up and gone over. But no one would have believed what happened there, what we saw. So I took some liberties.” He glanced at Charlie, the suspicious look gone from his face, and she nodded for him to continue. Clay took a deep breath. “I treated it only as the murder of my officer; you remember Officer Dunn. We recovered his body, closed the case, and I ordered the building to be demolished.” “What about …” Charlie paused, trying not to let her frustration show. “What about Freddy, and Bonnie, and Chica, and Foxy?” What about the children, the children who were killed and hidden inside each one of them? “They were all there,” Clay said gravely. “They were lifeless, Charlie. I don’t know what else to tell you.” Charlie didn’t respond. “As far as the demolition crew was concerned, all they’d found were old costumes, broken robots, and two dozen folding tables. And I didn’t correct them,” he said with hesitation in his voice. “You know how these things go. Whether building up or tearing down, it takes time. From what I hear, the storm hit and suddenly everyone was needed elsewhere; the demolition was put on hold.”