MONDAY MORNING
At eight in the morning on a Monday, the only places that were busy were schools. Children would be coming into their respective classrooms, taking their seats; possibly taking out the homework they had over the weekend. They would be talking amongst themselves, laughing, retelling what they did on their days off. The teacher would take another long drink of coffee - lukewarm and much too strong for their taste, but they can't be picky, considering they got it from the teacher's lounge - as they mentally prepare themselves for the day.
Schools and Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria have one defining common factor: children.
Both businesses thrive on children. They're both meant to be educational, but fun. In most cases, they're both supposed to be fun for the whole family, filled with activities and interactive games fit for children and adults alike. Though sometimes both of places make mistakes - and often those mistakes are swept under the rug and forgotten about after a few months, after a brand renovation or a giveaway of some kind - they're still universally hailed as a safe place.
However, the most significant difference between Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria and schools is that, at eight in the morning on a Monday, schools are actually busy.
That's why Charlotte was drawing on the reservation list whiteboard rather than working, little bear heads and balloons gracing the side margins. She wasn't paying attention to the gold-painted front double-doors of the pizzeria, deciding to devote her morning shift to doodling on the podium's dry-erase board until she switched out with her co-worker Patricia at eleven, who was currently wiping down tables and setting up party hats in the dining hall.
One of the two doors opened and someone walked inside, confident footsteps muffled by the dark red, late-eighties shag carpet gracing the entranceway. When the person approached the podium and stopped in front of it, it took her a moment to register that someone else was there, only catching sight of them when she had to look up to get a few strands of her long dark hair out of her line of vision.
It was a boy, not much older than her, with a head of fluffy dark hair and bright brown eyes. He was dressed up fairly formally, in a nice forest green button-up and black tie paired with black slacks and shiny shoes. The sight made Charlotte stifle a snort. "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's," she greeted, capping the dry-erase marker and standing up, finding him to be just a bit taller than her. "Can I help you?" She looked him over once more, seeing the folder under his arm. Was he an intern from somewhere? What if he was here to see Manny and finally close them down? Took 'em long enough, she thought pessimistically. "I'm here for the job interview?" Oh? That made her raise a thin eyebrow. She didn't know they were hiring more floor attendants. "I saw the listing on Craigslist for a night shift security guard? It said to just come in-" Immediately her brain put the boy on mute, all ready concluding that he was a waste of time. Crossing her arms over her chest stopped him all together, her change in demeanor making him go sheepish. The boy thought he had done something wrong. He did. He showed up to be the new night guard. "I'll go get Manny." Charlotte turned away from the stranger without another word and went to go get her manager. He watched her cross the floor, passing one of her co-workers, a pretty blonde girl setting up birthday hats, who smiled cheerfully her way before returning to work.
A few silent moments passed, only broken by the noises of a few arcade cabinets the restaurant had lined up against one of the far walls. When he caught sight of the familiar dark-haired girl again she still had a distasteful look on her face, but her arms were uncrossed, and someone was following behind her. He was an older fellow, but not by much, from the looks of it - he had a bit of weight him as well, but he was working at a pizzeria. Other than that though, he couldn't have been more than forty, and even that was pushing it. He must be the manager.
As Charlotte took her position again and went back to doodling on the whiteboard, sufficiently ending their interaction, the manager approached him, smiling warmly and extending a hand.
"Manny."
"Mark." He took Manny's hand and shook it, smiling back. "Nice to meet you."
Manny unhooked the red rope and officially let him inside the restaurant. They made small talk as they walked to a nearby dining table about the weather, and how shiny Mark's shoes were. Once they sat, they got right to business. The questions were all standard, if not a bit vague. But he answered them accordingly, explaining his school situation. "I only need something part-time," he told the manager. "I don't have night classes, so this would be perfect for me." He went on to talk about his major with a humble tone and a small smile. He had learned in high school a bunch of interviewing tips so as not to come off as too arrogant or shy, balancing confidence with the willingness to learn. Plus, talking to Manny was easy - he was a very open man, chuckling at his bad jokes and nodding along to reassure him he was paying attention.
After Mark had shown him his resume and references - he had decided to not pull out the letter of recommendation, seeing as this was just a security guard position - it was quiet for a moment. "You know, this is just minimum-wage, Mark," Manny explained, a bit of hesitation in his voice. "In all honesty, you're way overqualified for a position here." He chuckled a little, but continued. "But, we'd love to have you." Looking up at the boy made him smile, seeing his face relieved and proud and joyful all at once. They both stood. "When can you start?" Manny asked. "I can start tonight, after class." He nodded. "Perfect." They shook hands again.
They walked back toward the entrance of the restaurant. "Charlotte!" The girl at the podium stood up at attention, looking over her shoulder at the two gentlemen walking toward her. "I'd like to introduce you to our new night guard, Mark." She turned to them, crossing her arms over her chest, seemingly her default stance. "We've met." She looked at him, and he looked at her, sheepishly grinning back. "I want you to give him a tour of the place. Introduce him to everyone. Show him Freddy and the rest of the cast. The whole nine yards." As Manny explained what she was to do, her face contorted into a look of distain and disgust. He gave her a look back - one of those you do it or you can kiss your job goodbye sort of looks - and she huffed. "Follow me." Mark tagged along right behind her, keeping an easy pace.
With an overly-grand gesture, she directed his attention to the room they were in. "This is our main floor. We've got the dining area on that side-" She pointed to the tables, clean and set up with plates, party hats, and plastic silverware. "-and the registers on that side." With her other hand she pointed to a large counter-like area topped with a pair of registers; all set right in front of a small window. Charlotte began moving again, toward the register, which was occupied by the blonde he noticed earlier. "Right behind it is the kitchen, obviously for ordering purposes." They came to the counter, and the blonde smiled wide. "Hey, Charlie," she greeted. "Hey, new guy." That earned a little chuckle. "Mark." She nodded once. "Mark, Patricia. Patricia, Mark. She was the 'new kid' before you." The blonde nodded once, still smiling. "Yep. About to hit my two-month anniversary in a few weeks." There was a snort from the other girl. "If we don't get shut down first." That made all three of them laugh, though Mark didn't quite know why he was laughing, not knowing why she'd joke about that or why it was funny.
"Hey, uh, Cia, you wanna take over for me?" Charlotte suddenly asked, her tone much kinder than the ones he'd heard used before. "I can cover for you on register." Patricia perked up, blue eyes shining. "Sure!" She hopped over the counter instead of going around, solid black shoes not even brushing the surface. "Follow me. I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew."
The rest of his inaugural tour was spent under the direction of Patricia. She was thorough in explaining, throwing in small facts about the pizzeria into her monologues. He was kept entertained by her spiels, the bits of trivia making him curious. "So, you said you've only been working here a couple months?" He prompted as they walked out the bathrooms and headed to the main stage. "Uh-huh." She nodded. "How long has Charlotte been working here?" At the mention of the other girl, his guide smiled. "Three and a half years. She's the second-longest working employee, right behind Steven. You'll meet him a little later." He nodded back.
"And here they are! Our main attraction." Gesturing to the robotic trio on stage, she laughed a little. "May I introduce to you, Bonnie Bunny, Chica Chick, and Freddy Fazbear!" Mark took a good look up at the three animals.
They were all fairly worn from decades of entertaining, their once-bright colors faded and their fur a bit lackluster. They were over six feet tall, all three of them, with mouths just slightly agape as if stopped mid-sentence. He couldn't see inside their mouths, but he knew they were designed that way, no doubt the inside shrouded by black felt. Bonnie carried a guitar, Freddy held a microphone, and Chica was on keyboard. "They're all connected to the same power switch, which is over by the backstage area. C'mon. I'll show you." She gestured for him to follow and, after one last glance at the animatronics, he did.
After showing him the power switch to the stage, turning it on briefly to show him just how they started up, the pair entered backstage. His guide walked in no problem, but he lingered in the doorway, making her turn and look at him. "It's okay. Nothing's gonna bite you." She laughed a bit and waved him in encouragingly; he laughed weakly with her. Walking inside, he found the room just a notch warmer than the rest of the restaurant and much smaller than most of the other rooms. On the walls hung replacement faces for the animatronics, the shadowy corners held stripped-down old exoskeletons, and a large rectangular table in the center of the room had half a robotic body on top of it. All of it made his heart beat wildly, thoroughly creeping him out. "A lot of this stuff is used for spare parts when something goes wrong with the main three," she explained. "Hence all the naked robots." As he continued to take in his surroundings, she made her way back to the door. She patted him on the arm and walked out, a kind gesture that brought him back to reality, waiting eagerly for him to follow. "C'mon, you've still gotta meet Foxy!"
Meeting Foxy brought the two of them in front of a curtained-off stage area significantly smaller than the main stage, with an OUT OF ORDER sign hanging from the sign's railing. "So, this is Foxy." Patricia pulled back the purple starry curtains, revealing the animatronic hidden behind them. He was fairly tall as well, with an ear-to-ear grin spread across his long maroon muzzle. One of his paws was a hook, and one of his legs was fully robotic, not covered in any sort of fur. "You can see he's being worked on. Or was being worked on." Mark furrowed his brows and looked at her. "We've been on the brink of foreclosure for months now. A lot of stuff isn't really up-to-par here. Or, okay, we're up on health and safety codes, but some stuff, like Foxy-" She shook her head and let the curtains drop. He understood - the officials were trying to run them out by letting everything fall to pieces before having to send someone out to evict them.
"I think that about does it..." She trailed off, going through her mental checklist. "Yeah. You'll meet Steven later on tonight. He'll teach you how to clock in and out, and show you how to use the cameras and stuff." She nodded, smiling proudly, no doubt feeling accomplished. "Do you have any questions?" Mark hesitated, which made the girl giggle. He did have questions, but they weren't exactly about the job. "It's about Charlie, isn't it?" He nodded, a little embarrassed. "What's your question?" Though she didn't seem like one to gossip, Patricia seemed to really like talking about her co-worker, and because he was so curious, he didn't see a problem with that. "I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but why is she so guarded?" His question made her blonde brows scrunch together. "You can't tell me you didn't see it too. She kept giving me the cold shoulder. She handed me off to you without a second thought. I don't get it." It made him feel bad, and half of him hoped he wouldn't have to deal with the other girl anymore. However the other half of him, the half that wanted to appeal to everyone so desperately, wanted to show her that he was different. "I don't know, honestly," she responded after a moment. "I'm really sorry you've been getting the whole 'ice queen' routine from her. She does that to people sometimes." Her face showed genuine guilt at both what happened and her lack of words. "C'mon, I'll walk you out."
Cutting through the rows of dining tables, the two of them headed back to the front entrance, where they found Manny waiting for the two of them. When he saw Patricia instead of Charlotte, his smile faltered, but only for a moment. Seeing how content and excited Mark looked made it return in a flash. "Good tour?" Mark nodded. "Good. We'll see you tonight." They shook hands once last time, and with a wave from the blonde, the new night guard headed out.
A head of wavy black hair appeared at the manager's side and he looked over to see Charlotte, arms crossed, eyes on the doors. "He's not gonna make it a week," she said. Manny looked to the doors too, the image of a confident young man in a forest green button-up walking out of his restaurant still fresh in his mind. No. He can do it. I believe in him. That boy will be our best night guard yet. He'll make it. "He's too good to last a week." He looked over at her, recognizing that tone of voice. It was sorry, guilty; the tone he'd used on his youngest daughter before when she wanted to grow wings to fly or a fin to swim. It was the tone of voice people used when they knew they had to break the harsh truth to someone. It made his stomach do a flip. Mark was too good to last the week. He was a kind, smart, well-raised young man. He was either going to go insane, or he was going to die.
Manny realized, just then, that he made a grave mistake.