So after two successful fan-fictions based on video games like Team Fortress 2 and Sonic, I've decided to try my hand at another successful game series: Five Nights at Freddy's! This story takes place 20 years after the events of FNaF 3 and it more or less follows the same plot as Ridley Scott's movie Blade Runner which is based on a novel by science-fiction writer Philip K. Dick called Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? If none of you are familiar with either of these works, don't worry! You don't have to know them to understand what's going on!
Chapter 1: Missing Toys
"Hello? Max Schmidt?" said a voice coming from a small wristwatch worn by a man in his late thirties.
"What is it, Phone Guy?" The man asked.
"It's Jared Fitzgerald," replied the Phone Guy. "He was sent to 'dismantle' a group of Animatronics that escaped from the local Freddy's Café a few days ago. We just found his body."
"Is he dead?" Max wondered.
"No, but his frontal lobe is completely missing."
"Do you know what caused it?"
"The only clue is fang-marks located along the ridge of his head, meaning his frontal lobe was either torn out by some wild animal or—
"An Animatronic killed him," Max interrupted.
"That's what we're thinking, too." The Phone Guy paused and then said, "He was found inside a closet at the back of an abandoned Fredbear's Diner. The demolition crew discovered him just as they were ready to tear the place down and called the police. But Fazbear Entertainment intercepted the call and sent it to us, the Night Watch Repairmen."
"I see, so what am I supposed to do about it?"
"You're going to take over Jared's job and pick up where he left off."
Max gulped and said, "Can't you send someone else?"
"No can't do. Franz Smith is looking for a couple of runaway Animatronics in another town so he won't be back for at least a week."
In response, Max sighed and asked, "How much was Jared getting paid?"
"6,000 dollars."
An audibly loud whistle escaped Max's lips. "That's a lot of money."
"I know, and there's a good reason for it. The Animatronics Jared was tracking down are more advanced than the kind we've been dealing with lately."
"What model are they?"
"Fazbear Entertainment referred to them as Toy Models. They're equipped with facial scanners that are programmed to recognize potential threats and their artificial skin is tougher than the Original Models are."
"How many are there?"
"I'm not sure. You'll have to ask Fred Bernstein the Third, the current owner of Fazbear Entertainment, about the details."
"Where does he live?"
"In an isolated house outside of town."
"Okay, give me the address and I'll be there by this afternoon."
###
After taking an electric train out of the crowded city he called home, Max found a slick black hover-car waiting for him at the station. The driver said Fred Bernstein the Third had gotten wind of Max's arrival and thus was expecting him. Reluctantly, Max got into the backseat of the car and sat back as the driver steered the hover-car away from the station up a dirt path till he came to a large cabin that was the size of a small hotel. Inside, Max was surprised to see lavish furnishings all around the cabin and a little man at the center of it all wearing a shiny golden suit, a balding head, and slippers that sparkled gold.
"Mr. Schmidt, I presume?" asked the little man who stepped forward to shake Max's hand.
"I was told you were expecting me, Fred Bernstein the Third," Max said, keeping his hands in his pockets.
"Ah, yes, about that," the little man said noticing where Max's hands were. "When Jared didn't report back to us, we got worried, and learned that a new Repairman was being sent up here."
"Why did you go through the effort of doing that?" Max said shrugging his shoulders. "I'm just a simple Repairman, after all."
"True, but the nature of your job forces us to be more cautious than usual," Fred Bernstein the Third said nervously. "Can you imagine what would happen if people found out that the workers at every Freddy's Café in the entire nation were actually robots disguised as humans?"
"I know it'll be bad for business, given your company's past history with Animatronics," replied Max.
"Then I assume you're quite familiar with what our company has gone through, given your father's brief profession as a security guard at one of our previous restaurant chains," Fred Bernstein the Third said snidely.
Max gave Fred an odd look. "I'm only familiar with the basics. My father never really talked about his experience at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza."
"Oh, I see," Fred Bernstein the Third gave a small cough. "I'm sorry for assuming."
"It was a natural assumption, giving my profession," said Max.
"Of course," responded Fred Bernstein the Third. "How's Jared?"
"Not good, I'm told. Got his frontal lobe bitten off."
"How dreadful!"
"We think it was one of the Animatronics he was chasing. I was told by my boss that they're of the 'Toy Model'. Does that ring a bell?"
"Yes, we're manufacturing a new brand of Animatronics named after the ones from the second Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. We were testing them in a Freddy's Café within town and for the first few days they were working perfectly fine. But then some of the Original Models that were training the Toys started putting ideas in their heads and we believe that's what led them to escape in the first place."
"What kind of ideas?"
"Nothing more than childish notions and fantasies about a 'Purple Man' or something."
"But they're robots. They don't understand concepts like fantasy and superstition."
"You'd be surprised what these Toy Models are capable of. Not only can they logically deduct threats based on circumstances and human records stored in their brains, but also they can grasp vague concepts like dreams and actually believe in them if they're suggested long enough."
"Then how did the Original Models give the Toys these ideas?"
"I'm not sure. Perhaps there was a glitch in their systems at the time."
"Or maybe there's something you're not telling me."
"Do you want to be paid 6,000 dollars or not?"
"Yes, but—
"Then I would suggest that you not question me about my knowledge on the matter and 'dismantle' those five Animatronics as soon as possible."
"Five? I'm aware there are a total of six characters in the Toy Model series."
"Only five of the six Toy Model Animatronics escaped, but two of the Original Models fled with them. I was told that Jared had eliminated one Original Model and one Toy Model before going after the others."
"Which ones were eliminated?"
A pair of heels were heard from above followed by a female voice that said, "Their names were Bonnie and Toy Freddy."
Max and Fred looked up at the landing and saw a tall woman descending the stairs next to it. She had a good looking figure, with short blonde hair tied up behind her oval head, blue eyes that seemed to be gazing elsewhere, wearing a yellow business suit, a matching knee-length skirt, and orange heels.
"Chichi," Fred exclaimed. "How long have you been listening?"
"Since the conversation started," replied the woman as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Who's this?" Max said, noticing the woman's business suit was unbuttoned near the top so her enormous breasts were visible underneath.
"My niece, Chichi," Fred said waving his hand toward the woman. "She also serves as my secretary so she's quite familiar with our company's problems involving runaway Animatronics."
"I see," Max said as he noticed Chichi staring at him. "Must be nice having an uncle who owns an entire chain of coffee-shops across the nation."
Chichi lit her cigarette with a matchbox that had the image of a cupcake on it and after a short puff she said, "It pays well. How much money do you make?"
"About 500 dollars per Animatronic," Max answered.
"How do you catch them, or 'dismantle' them as my uncle puts it?" Chichi asked.
"We subject who we suspect to be an Animatronic to a Fazbear Policy Test, which helps us determine if that person really is an Animatronic or not."
"In what way?"
"It depends on the answers the person gives."
Chichi looked at Fred, who nodded, then she turned her attention back to Max. "If you don't mind, I'd like to try this Fazbear Policy Test."
Max gave Chichi a confused stare. "Why, Miss Bernstein?"
"Because I'm curious. You have nothing to lose since I'm not an Animatronic."
"She's got a point, you know," Fred added.
After scratching the back of his head for a few seconds, Max sighed. "All right, then let's get stared, Miss Bernstein."
As Max walked over toward the dining table in the middle of the cabin, Chichi followed while Fred watched them both with his hands folded.
"All right, let me get set up first," Max asked as he took out a small black box with an attached microphone and placed it on the table between him and Chichi.
"What is that?" Chichi said looking at it.
"It's a device that picks up your voice and analyzes it," Max replied as he picked up the wire that came from the box and attached it to an electronic notepad which showed the questions on a screen below a still line.
"Are you ready to begin the test, Miss Bernstein?" Max said making eye-contact with Chichi.
Chichi nodded in turn and took another drag on her cigarette.
To be continued...