Chapter One

Mike Schmidt

Nov 9th 1992
Night 1

"Worst idea, ever." He sighed irritably as he pulled into the parking lot of the 'Freddy Fazbear's Pizza'.
The outside of the once famous pizza place looked run down and old, making the new security guard give it a scrutinizing glare. Who brought their kids here during the day time anyways? That was like asking for your child to get a disease. The bright white paint was chipped away by weather to show the grey concrete underneath, and the banner that hung above the main entrance was now a dull yellow; it's once bright pink words now faded from rain and neglect. As far as Mike was concerned, there was no reason to celebrate. If he didn't need a part time job to put food in his college fridge, he wouldn't have taken this gig in a hundred years. Not with the rumors that constantly circled the place and the low pay. He had been unfortunate enough to find it in the paper. His buddies all had a tale or two to tell about the run down children's attractions. None of them were good.

"No use bitching now." He hummed as he parked his car in the front of the building, before killing the engine.
His eyes flickered down to the purple security uniform that he wore. Honestly, he didn't see why it had to be such an obnoxious color which only added insult to injury. He was on night shift anyways, it wasn't like he was going to be walking out to greet the kids after his shift. His lips pulled into a soft groan as he slid open the door to his black Ford pick-up, complete with rust on the edge of the frame and no door to the bed.

The concrete side walk was cracked and bits of weeds and grass jutted out of them like tiny green needles. He glanced at the glass door that gave way to the diner. Even outside the smell of greasy pizza and flat pop was hard to miss. Trying to peer inside, he winced. It was dark, with the exception of a flickering light or two. Mike's lips pursed as he flicked on the flash light on his security belt before moving to unlock the doors. He was about to push them open when something caught his attention. The sound of a kid's quiet crying caught his ears. Just behind him, if he were to guess.

Did someone actually forget to pick up their child from this crazy place? He turned to find the kid, shining the flashlight behind him. "You oka-?"

But there was nothing on the curb. And the crying was gone as if it had never been there in the first place. Mike frowned at the idea of his mind already playing tricks on him this early into the job. He would have heard the child take off down the street or into the grass if they had been there. The articles of missing kids and hauntings of Fred's suddenly surfaced and a chill slipped down his back. Not that he hadn't been told by his friends the history of this creepy restaurant to begin with. He had nothing to worry about though, right? He wasn't some five year old who was going to be snatched up by a sicko. "Let's just get this stupid night over with."

Slipping inside the creaking doors, he appeared to be in the dining area. When he applied earlier that morning, it was filled with kids and the animatronics on the stage were singing songs, heads bobbing from side to side electronically. The black and white tiled floor stretched out to the two hallways that held restrooms, private party rooms and the like. He had hardly been paying attention during his tour around. The owner of the place, Roger Bleak, had told him that the job would probably only be temporary.

"I just don't have the money to keep this place running and the poor animatronics…with all the rumors and accidents behind them….this place just isn't what it used to be."
Mike had forced a smile. "I'm sure it'll be enough to put some food in my stomach for the time being." It was only five miles from his house too.
Now within the darkness of night and the lights gone along with the laughter of children, he could understand the man's fear. The tables were covered with white cloth, a faded confetti pattern adorn them. The walls were decorated with drawings and banners hung over the six tables, giving a welcome feeling if the place was still bright. Party hats ready to be worn tomorrow lined up with the chairs. Flimsy dollar store ones made of card board and shiny material. He glanced back to see the stage where the ugly figures of Bonnie, Freddy, and Chica were.

Chica was a yellow duck with sharp teeth in her beak and bib that said 'Let's eat.' Her dopey eyes were staring to the side, faded painted pupils looking dull and disturbing. Mike had to wonder who had the idea to give them teeth anyways. Now a days, you couldn't hand a small child something they could fit in their mouth because they may choke. And wouldn't the teeth just scare that little ones? He could almost picture a sniffling girl staring up at the bird during a less depressing time in the animatronics' life. She would sniffle as her mother soothed her with a comforting; "Well she's gotta eat too doesn't she? And pizza is tough to chew!"
The kid would go scampering away excited with a piece of pizza and all would be right in the world again. Besides, when these 'characters' were made was when they didn't have seat belts in cars yet.

Freddy was second, the brown bear on center stage with a mic in hand, a small top hat, and bow tie. The face of the pizzeria and an ugly one at that. This wasn't the type of teddy bear he could see himself clinging to in the middle of a thunderstorm at the age of eight. His gaze was pointed down as well but Mike swore he saw them move just a little bit. He was supposed to be the mascot or the star but many children, from what little he did gather, found Foxy to be their favorite. Maybe it was the bulky figure that frightened away most of the kids.

Then came Bonnie, the purple rabbit that held a guitar in his hands; with ears that could twitch at the top and a red bow tie. Unlike the others, its eyes were wide and its jaw was opened in a half song. Or like it was ready to bite someone's head off. That reminded him of the news clipping he found on the internet. It had been called the Bite of 87'. One of the damn robotic yahoos had taken a chunk out of someone's skull. None that were up here, or so he was told. They looked so run down, he doubted any of them could do much more than jerk from side to side. He sighed as he gave the sad animatronics another once over before heading down the hallway to his right, past the curtain with the out of order sign. He mildly wondered /what/ was out of order. The owner had just said that some of the machines broke down once and a while and that this one probably wouldn't be running again for the rest of the pizzeria's life. The only sounds of the place were a few clicking fans and the clap of his own footsteps. His eyes flickered over to curtain though, when the softest of singing echoed the room.

Singing. Not lyrical sensible singing but a soft 'dum dum da dum', as if someone were doing chores and passing the time away. Unlike the sobbing of the small child, it didn't fade when he turned towards the source. It was low, like an older male's tone. "Hello?"
No answer. Maybe it was part of whatever was not working, another animatronic singing its part in the show. He realized he hadn't seen the character 'Foxy' that was displayed on some of the posters. Mike slowly pulled his flashlight to the center of the purple star covered fabric, moving carefully forward to draw back the curtain. And he screamed.