A/N: I apologize if this idea has been done before. I don't actually read fanfics from this series. I originally was genderbending and cosplaying a night guard, but this story idea came to mind when I thought about it too hard. Hope it isn't too much of a ripoff of anyone else's, but we'll see once I actually finish. This story actually has two possible outcomes depending on how the final game comes out.
"Dad…" she murmured, her fingertips brushing the framed photo set upon the counter beside the door. Walking into the night out of the safety of her small apartment, she tied her hair into a loose ponytail, glancing at the police station. She subconsciously patted her side down over the belt with her concealed badge and handgun.
Approaching the pizzeria, she placed her father's old cap atop her head firmly, taking a steady inhale before opening the front door. Save for the janitor, who had just left with a single nod in her direction, the manager stood in the darkened dining room, writing on a clipboard. His nametag read "Rodney", just beneath Manager in bold letters. He wore a casual, yet crisp and clean dress shirt and red tie similar to hers, save for the security jacket and cap. Rodney noticed her presence and flashed her a trademark business smile. The hiring process was surprisingly easy. A simple phone interview and paperwork to the assistant manager was everything they wanted. But she knew despite not seeing the manager for that process, she instantly recognized him from before...
Holding an outstretched hand, she smiled and introduced herself. "Jessica Smith, sir. I'm the new gua-"
Rodney stepped towards her in what she thought was a return handshake, but instead placed his hand upon her side, directly above the badge.
"Chelle Zehntner, from the local police department...right?" His smile never wavering, he suddenly seemed too close to her face. Chelle's eyes never broke the gaze, she stepped back with a slight glare. "...so you remember me."
"I never forget a former employee." Before Chelle could withdraw her hand, Rodney took it and shook as if meaning to before. The woman stood in a bit of surprise, not really making the effort to return it.
"An awfully long time ago..." she finally managed to say."So then, you know exactly why I'm here. You won't send me away?"
He released her hand, shaking his head with a blank expression now settled on his face. "I don't believe you'll find anything, but I wasn't going to stop you from looking."
She gritted her teeth. "I want the truth. You're the first suspect." Walking past him, ignoring his sly smirk and faint words of good luck, Chelle set out for the office in the dark. Rodney had since then locked the front door and left her alone. Setting herself to work, she inspected the office, seeing the plethora of files she wished to skim through and eventually take from. But on the other hand, it would be wise for the detective to explore the places she hadn't been able to look through in the past. Whatever cold trail was left behind would be good enough, to stop Rodney's grand re-opening.
"It's just too damn suspicious…" she murmured.
Chelle went on a tour around the pizzeria, picking up old memories and feeling the sense of nostalgia. It looked different at night, but also with its run-down state. She glanced up at the animatronics on the stage, a heinous smell came from them prompting her to cover her nose and mouth. The stench made her eyes water, she blinked away and shook her head.
"Boys and girls, the show's just begun!" chirped Freddy, jolting Chelle as she glanced back at them on stage. They stood motionless, no lights behind their eyes. The officer began heading to the back office, picking up the keys the janitor had left behind. A high, hollow creaky noise echoed behind her as she turned away from the Fazbear trio, but she didn't notice it.
Her hand traced the black skid marks of the door frames, looking up at the large steel wall that came down at the push of a button. During the day, her father had shown her the doors at his shift, holding her up and letting her push the button. How loud the thud boomed from it startled her. Experimentally she pressed it, like a gunshot it carried in her ears and rang in her head. Pressing it again, the door lifted and clicked back into the safe position. The light button was newer, but still a little smeared with dirt and faint. The buzz of the bulb didn't last, but it gave enough of a flicker to light up the hall just outside the window. Her breath hitched when the entire building seemed to dim and shut down. A ping could be heard from the small pad, a screen flickered to life, wires leading to the buttons. There had been an attempt to tape them to the floor, but they looked pulled up in order to reach the chair that was oddly far from the desk. She held it in her hands, flicking through the cameras. A percentage shown in green digits caught her attention beside a battery shaped bar, it went down a single from the full hundred, seeming to trigger the phone. Chelle set the pad onto the desk down, turning on the desktop fan and lifting the phone from the base to her ear.
"Hello, hello?"
"…yes?" She replied needlessly, interrupted by the caller.
"Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you…"
Her hand instantly went to her notebook, opening up to scrawl notes for her investigation.
"…but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?"
Getting through?
The introductory greeting was less than interesting and useful until the next phrase.
"…Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced…."
What kind of warning is that…? She focused back onto her notes, writing quick brief keywords from the recording. His explanations became less realistic to her as he went on about the animatronic characters becoming "quirky" in the night. Chelle couldn't quite grasp the meaning behind that.
"…these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay."
"Stay off Foxy, Chelle. How would you like it if someone climbed over you?"
"…The characters do tend to-"
A thunk sounded from the front of house, loud enough to just catch her attention, she set the phone on speaker and peeked out the left door, catching snippets of the phone guy's next phrases.
"-free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87."
The Bite.
Chelle shivered at the mention of it.
The look of her classmate, moments before Foxy had approached them, he left them a little stunned.
"Chelle, I broke it, ahahaha-"
"-now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here…"
She snapped her head back into the office, returning to the recording with the receiver on her ear again.
"…won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules-"
Thunk. Thunk.
The officer looked to the pad, noticing the percentage was even lower than before despite her not touching it anymore.
"...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that-"
Her eyes widened and memories of The Bite flashed through her head. The endoskeleton's jaw underneath the headpiece of Foxy closed around her classmate's head. Like the way a raspberry bursts between your teeth as you bite…her skull... The mess… Chelle dare not open her mouth to scream. She dare not make eye contact.
"-a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again-"
That girl was never the same again, she stared with dead eyes blankly out the hospital window, the front of her forehead caved in…
THUNK.
Startled, the guard finally pressed the buttons to the different cameras. All of the trio remained in place, but nothing out of the ordinary despite the sounds she was hearing.
"Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."
…It has to be a joke right? She thought, setting the pad face down and pulling out her flashlight. Chelle stepped into the hallway and headed towards the kitchen, where the camera was disabled somehow. "…is anyone still here?" she asked quietly. Some part of her believed Rodney was probably trying to scare her in some way, make her leave before she could find anything linking to her late father. A hand stayed on her gun, as she took into consideration that a real intruder may have come in somehow. The front stage was in sight now, carefully moving around the tables she approached the entrance, experimenting with the locks to find them secure. "Alright Rodney, you're not getting me to leave. Don't make me shoot you."
"Boys and girls, it's your pal Freddy Fazbear!"
"And I'm Bonnie Bunny, huhahahUAHA- szzrt- Ah!"
She turned her light on them, seeing their whites glow in the dark before noticing their rust spreading in front of her eyes. Their heads and eyes creaked as they "looked" around.
"A-and I'm, Chica!"
Her breath caught in her throat as she thought back to the tape. "We have an in- IN –in-intruder present." Freddy suddenly clicked his head towards Chelle, causing her to freeze instantly. "You can't be in this are- area! Please lea- RUN –leave."
"I-I'm a guard, the night guard. I-" she stopped sputtering, realizing talking to a machine did nothing to stop them from stepping off the stage, the heavy weight of their metal feet vibrated in the floor towards the frozen officer. "N…No…" Turning on her heel, she ran down the hall, hearing the sing song voices of the characters she once loved as a child. They seemed to mock her as she flung herself into the office. The button was nearly crushed in against her fist as she slammed the door, spinning on her heel to the other side and locking herself in. Lifting the phone and cradling it on her shoulder she dialed 911 in a panic, but to her dismay the line was dead silent. The pad was at her use again, she quickly moved through the screens to find them in their original positions again. Confused and feeling a little silly, she backed into the chair and slumped over, releasing a sigh. Chelle pressed the doors open calmly, thinking a blackout would probably result in failure to run this place the next day. She couldn't conclude with much else, as she returned to her small notebook, trying to tinker with the phone to get it working in order to hear the recording again. Checking the time, it was just a minute before it turned to 6 AM. A bell sounded off, signaling the end of the night, and inducing a different emotion in her, fury. Walking down the hall back to the main entrance, she ignored the hollow creak echoing behind her as the door clicked open. Rodney stood there with a grim expression, resilient to her anger. "So, you made it." He sneered.
"Your pizzeria, no matter how fucking creepy it is, won't scare me off. You know exactly what the hell happened to my father, and I won't rest until I shut this place down." She spat, nearly tripping over her own feet, feeling the blood drain from her face as a result of locking her knees when she tried standing firm. The sunrise greeted her more warmly than Rodney, who just brushed past her to enter his establishment.
"We'll see you again tonight, rookie."