Well, here it is my first big FNaF story. We're going to start out slow like the game but not to worry, Night 4 is when it gets interestig. Something to wet your appitite for the story. I want make a couple points for this story though.

1) Bonnie is a guy in this story since that is his design. I've read versions of Bonnie as a girl, and while I like that idea a lot, I think I'll stick with the intended character of the game.

2) This doesn't follow the game's story about the "Haunted Animatronics." Mainly, I don't like the idea about the spirits of five children killing the night guard. And the idea of them being hidden in the suits of the mascots doesn't sit well either. This story has a better ending

Hope you enjoy the first chapter, as bland and normal as it is.

The job hunt was never easy for anyone in this economy. Especially not for a guy taking a break from studying at college to pay a massive debt that was longer than he was tall.

Michel Schmidt was a tall medium built brunette of twenty-seven years of age. He had gone to school to major as a musician and racked up a rather hefty debt because of it. Mainly in instrument fees. Because of that he had to put his ambitions aside in order to get his life back in check. He'd tried to apply back at the department store he'd worked at before, but there were no jobs to be had there anymore. He'd walked all over town to places he'd circled in the newspaper the day before and was still sore when his alarm clock went off at ten-thirty.

As he sat himself down in the living room with his toaster waffles (the only thing cheap enough for someone in his financial circumstances), he immediately flipped to the periodicals in the back of his morning paper.

"Pets…. Houses….Cars…," he muttered to himself as he scanned through the paper. He scoffed at the last one as his debt had eaten up his car in the process. If he couldn't find a job soon, his house was next on the chopping block. That was if the rent he was beginning to owe didn't eat it first.

Once in the jobs he began to circle potential places of interest. One advertisement caught his eye though. It was in bold text and had a strange black and white picture below it. Mike looked at it trying to make out the dark blob. Suddenly he realized just what he was looking at, a robotic bear in a top hat and bow tie. Mike's gaze didn't leave the picture for a couple moments as he tried to figure out that sense of déjà vu. He turned to the article to see if anything would strike a memory somewhere in his still sleepy brain.

HELP WANTED: FREDDY FAZBEAR'S PIZZA

Family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the nightshift. 12 AM to 6 AM

Monitor cameras; ensure safety of equipment, and animatronic characters.

$120 a week

Mike gave a small gasp to himself as he read the title. He remembered going to Freddy's a lot when he was younger. He'd loved pizza, the parties his friends invited him to, and the robotic band the most. He liked all three of them, but Freddy the most. He supposed as is normal with children, he gravitated to the most popular character and adored him the most.

While Freddy was his idol, he liked the rabbit second best (if he could only recall his name). He was impressed by the way the robot could actually play his bass guitar instead of miming it all. How he knew, and he was surprised none of his friends knew; was the fact the rabbit used a guitar pick so the vibrations the strings made convinced him it was real. In fact, it was what inspired Mike to learn to play the guitar later on in high school. No hard rock since country was more his style.

The money was not really good, but then when you work the night shift at a pizzeria, why should they pay more? Still it was an opportunity he had to take. Or risk sleeping in the gutter next month if things still didn't work out.

The pizzeria had a phone number for the manager's office so Mike gave it a call. He wondered if the job had been filled already since a pizzeria didn't need more than one guard.

'Never hurts to ask,' he thought to himself.

Every ring of the phone felt like an eternity as Mike waited for a reply. Soon, the ringing stopped mid-ring, and a cheerful older voice responded on the other end.

"Hello, this is the manager of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. How may I help you?"

"Uh yes, I see you are looking for a security guard for the night shift," Mike said reading the article as he said this. "And I was wondering if the position is still open."

"As a matter of fact, yes the position is still open. Are you hoping to apply?"

"I am."

"Splendid!" came the jovial reply. "Can you be here at three 'o clock for an interview?"

Mike's mouth dropped open at those words. He had only just called and was immediately offered an interview.

"You still there? Hello?" the manager asked through the phone receiver.

"Uh y-yes sir. I'm still here. Uh, s-sure, three o'clock is fine for me."

"Wonderful! See you then."

And the call ended. Mike could hardly believe his fortune. He'd been granted a job interview right off the bat! While he might not be granted the job after the interview, there was still hope he might. What real qualifications did one need to do the night shift anyway? You don't need to talk with anyone, anyone breaks in you stop them or report them. Mike got up of the coach, and went to his room to find his best shirt.

XXXX

Freddy Fazbear's was busy as Mike always remembered it when he had come as a kid. It seemed the supposed ghost stories he had heard about the place when he had gotten older hadn't diminished the hype. Mike sighed as he revealed in memories of his past. Those had been fun times. Now he'd be working here.

As he walked in, the place was in a state of controlled chaos as a few groups of kids had parties or played games as their parents watched over them. He walked up to the counter, and a rather young cashier of at least high school age came up.

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's. What can I get you?" she asked cheerfully.

"I'm here to see the manager to apply for a job," Mike said, nervously fidgeting with his resume in his hands.

"Oh, of course. He told us to expect you," the cashier said cheerfully, as she walked up from behind the counter and pointed down one of the two hallways leading to the back of the restaurant. "Down that hallway on the right at the back."

"Thanks," Mike said as he made his way down the hallway.

The hallway was dimly lit, but sunlight from the main dining room added to it. As Mike walked toward the hall, he noticed the strange starry curtain blocking off another area of the restaurant. Mike had heard this lead to a place called Pirates Cove and had been closed since the late Eighties. Mike hadn't been around that time, but he knew it had been closed ever since he'd gone to Freddy's. He wondered what was back there. Maybe if he got the job, he'd take a look.

As Mike came to the end of the hallway, he came up to the door with the sign, "Managers Office". He gently rapped the door and waited for a response.

"Come in!" came the reply.

Mike opened the door and walking into the office. Behind a desk covered with papers sat an older man thick black hair in a dark grey suit.

"Hello, you must be Mike," he said jovially, looking at his watch. "I see you are very punctual. Five minutes early by my watch."

Mike nodded and took a seat in front of the desk. "Yes, sir," he said, shaking the manager's outstretched hand. "I always try to arrive on time or earlier."

"Wonderful to hear. I'm Matt Peters, the manager and owner of Freddy's."

Mike smile and handed his resume to Peters, who looked through it for a few moments making impressed expressions. Soon he sat it down and returned to Mike.

"I see you have held quite a few jobs in the past Mike, and none for a few years. Why was that?"

"College, sir. I was studying music until my debts got too high to continue so I've been looking for a job to pay it off recently."

"I see… but all understandable Mr. Schmidt. I myself had financial issues in college. I have one or two more questions before I make my choice to hire you or not."

Mike nodded and waited patiently.

"Do you or your family have a history of heart disease or other health issues?" Peters asked.

"No sir, not to my knowledge."

Peters nodded as he took in the information and formed his final question.

"Have you ever had any trouble with the law prior? In case something does happen, I wish to believe the theft isn't your doing."

Mike shook his head and answered with a brisk, "No sir. Never had any trouble with the law at all. "

Peters gave another couple nods before saying, "Well Mr. Schmidt, I have the honor of saying you are hired."

Mike could do nothing to prevent his jaw from going slack as he heard those words. He had barely answered any questions, had only just started the interview, and he was offered the job right off the bat? This was too good to be true. This had to be a joke.

"Sir… are you serious? I got the job?" Mike asked in amazement.

"That is what I said, Mr. Schmidt. You can start tonight. Just sign your name here and I'll get your uniform," Mr. Peters said, passing forward a sheet of papers to Mike before getting up from his seat and leaving the office.

As Mike filled out the paperwork with his name, phone number, etc., he almost expected a camera crew to burst in through the door and proclaim he'd just made an appearance on a prank television show. That never happened as Peters came back in carrying a large shirt in a plastic dry cleaning bag. He sat it down on the table and waited as Mike finished his final signatures.

"I know the salary isn't much, Mike," Peters said as he waited. "But here we want to give guards a feeling for the job before we consider a pay raise. If they wish to continue or not, you see."

"I understand, sir," Mike replied as he took the bag with his new uniform and placed the signed papers back on the desk. "When do you suggest I come back for work tonight?"

"Arrive at 11 when the restaurant closes so I may give you a better tour of the establishment you will be guarding. I would appreciate you arriving early. There is a lot to cover and such a short time to do it. Welcome aboard, Mr. Schmidt," Peters replied with a smile, holding out his hand to Mike.

"Yes sir, thank you sir!" Mike proclaimed excitedly as he shook the manager's hand hard. As he walked down the hallway, he had a small strut in his step. He had a job finally, a paying job. Fears of losing his house were laid to rest; the college debt would be the next thing on his list to cross off.

After all, how hard could guarding this place be?