(AN: Be warned! Swearing and gore ahead.)
Sun had long set despite it being summer, but Mike Schmidt could still feel its suffocating warmth. Don't believe him? Ask the sorry excuse of a shitty shirt that was glued to his body. That was nothing new to him, though, today marked his fifth night as the night guard at Freddy Fazfuck's Pizzeria and boy! wasn't that chilling enough to make him ignore the heat.
The inside of the pizzeria was blissfully cool, horribly smelly, too. Mike locked the door behind him, willingly imprisoning himself with a bunch of murderous robots.
"Hiya, fuckers!" he waved at them as he passed the stage; they couldn't move yet, but he could see their eyes following him, filled with some primal sort of anger. His loud and entertained laugh was still ringing in the animatronics' sound receptors when they were finally free of their programmed restraints just ten minutes later.
Mike Schmidt saw Foxy move first, "Aww, poor little Fucksy, offended that I didn't say hi to you?" he laughed as he saw the torn robot run through East Hall. Dumb thing looked funny as hell when he ran, his thin arms raised high in the air and his crooked jaw flapping. Mike slammed the left door shut at the last second just to hear Foxy literally run into it; he burst into laughter when he saw the fox look at him through the window, his jaw's condition even worse than before.
He was howling with laughter and even beating his knee a little when he heard Freddy laugh; pausing to quickly check the cams, he saw the fatso was in Dining Hall. He leaned out from the right door after opening the left, "Yo, fatty! Bring me some of your shitty pizza while you're on your way!" Freddy's laugh was heard again, indicating that he was in the ladies room. "You sick bastard, get outta there!" Mike yelled once more before getting back into the office. Man, even his chair was crappy. He illuminated the left doorway and closed the door with a fake scream as he saw Bonnie's ugly, dirty face. "Go find someone else to eat, dumbass!" He giggled.
Sound of pots and pans in the kitchen indicated Chica was in there, gluttony incarnate right here! Freddy laughed once more, now they must be throwing a stale pizza party in there together.
He turned on the left light, only to be met with Bonnie's shadow. "Shit," he whispered, his bravado deflating a little. That little shit had been there for too long!
The left door using up his power, Mike noticed the only sound in the kitchen was Freddy's stupid tune now; that was when he heard the familiar sound of glitching, or what he called it when the animatronics seemed to throw a fit outside his doors. Knowing too well that Chica was out there, he turned on the right light instead of checking the cams, fuck! She was glaring at him through the window now. Down went the right door, tripling his power usage; 4:17 AM with 40% left.
"Eh, piece of cake," he said, his voice definitely didn't sound like he was convinced. Freddy's laugh filled the pizzeria again, this time close to Mike. Mike glared at nothing in particular, "Heard 'cake' and already on your way, aren't you, fatso?" he called out. He quickly checked the doorlights, seeing Bonnie and Chica still there; considering he heard another joyous laughter, Freddy must be near the door too.
Well shit. That left him with... He checked his stats, 4:31 AM with 25%.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The fuckers were banging on the door now. Mike wondered if they could break the window, or even the doors.
It was 5:14 and he had 2% left. The last thing he thought before the power went out and doors opened was if that phone dude was still around back there to witness his death. He chuckled darkly as Freddy started with his tune outside the door, he'd be too dead to care anyway.
Chica and Foxy screeched excitedly from both sides while Bonnie was practically in Mike's face, breathing out a foul stench on him. Freddy got in last, taking off his hat in mock fashion as he met the guard's eyes.
The animatronics forcefully stuffing guards into suits was a lie, as Mike Schmidt painfully learned. The bastards liked tearing the guards into pieces limb by limb, plucking off an arm first, then an ear, biting off the nose next, then tearing off a foot. They liked showering themselves in the guards' blood and other bodily fluids. They liked hearing the agonized wails. They fed on the guards' pain. Cute, child-friendly animatronics too twisted to sing such innocent songs.
Chica flailed a torn arm around, imitating a wave while looking at Bonnie. She let out an excited giggle as he chewed on Mike's nose, later on deciding to spice up the taste in his mouth with the guard's lips. Foxy diligently carved Mike's eyes out, his sharp teeth glistening with blood smeared across them from when he bit the guard's brains out just minutes ago. And Freddy, the brain behind the master plan, was squeezing Mark's long-dead heart hard enough to make himself bathe in its blood.
And thus, Mike- his remains, rather- was carried out of the office and into the backstage, leaving a finger here and a piece of intestine there on their way; the once snarky security guard gloriously on his way to safely find his grave in an empty suit.
The manager crossed his arms and sighed, seeming bored rather than worried as he watched this chaotic event from the night before. "Oh well," he said, grabbing his cellphone. "Hey, Charles? I need the suit in the backstage cleaned ASAP. I also need a new security guard, the one we hired just quit."