Hello, there, NeverSeemsToFinishAStory here with another attempt at making something I hope I'll actually continue. I'm not entirely sure what hit this trigger in my head, but I have the biggest crush for FNaF, and, when I say that I don't mean playing the games. Now, with that in mind, I would like to throw something I know is going to more than likely bother countless people. Spoilers (I guess, heh), but I know William Afton is the Purple Guy. With that said, that's not the case here. I have had this idea forming in my head for the longest time, now, actually, but then Silver Eyes came out and The Purple-trator was revealed, so, I was… in a sense bummed, because I couldn't put up the story I truly WANTED to.

That was until I just kinda said 'Wait, why do I care who the Purple Guy actually is? This is FanFiction for crying out loud, I'mma write the story however the hell I want!' So, I bring to you a work several games in the making, before that damned book. I also changed a few major lore points, so… I guess you could say this story will mostly throw the lore out of the window, but hey, my job isn't to tell you the story Scott drew up, it's to tell you the story I drew up… using Scott's characters, heh...

Obviously, I do not own Five Nights at Freddy's nor any of it's characters or blah, blah, blah. Five Nights at Freddy's and all it's gloriousness belongs to Scott Cawthon. I don't make the rules I just change them to better benefit me, after all. Alright, onto this little thing I've prepared.

My god, it was freezing. I knew it was going to be a harsh winter, but by no means did I think I'd need two coats for any chance to keep warm, goddamn. Though, to be fair, I've been saying this for weeks now, and I still act so surprised, heh. Eh, it's not like the walk is that far. It's why I walk, after all, saves me on gas money. Let me tell you, saving gas money means a hell of a lot when you make what I make. I won't go into any details, but it's not a lot. It's a harsh reminder, every time I see that damn sign out front, just how much I despise this job. 'Now Hiring.' Heh. When aren't we hiring? People come and go out of this place all the time, so much, in fact, I hardly take any time to remember their names. A couple months, at best, and they're shooting out of here for better opportunity. Gotta say, wish I had this 'better opportunity' everyone always speaks of, but, alas, I'm in too deep. Haven't saved enough to do better, and I don't make enough to save.

*DING*

Sigh. There it is. That good ol' door dinger. Suppose I should be used to it, but knowing what that ding is actually for. Can't say I appreciate what they did to these robots. Equipped them with some crazy facial recognition stuff, but it's not exactly like you can trust technology. Not to mention it's linked or something to a S.O. Database, like, what the fuck? How the hell do I know this thing's not gonna suddenly call me a pedophile while I'm walking in for work? I'm just not a fan, I suppose. Though, the more I think about it, the more I understand. The 'Freddy Fazbear' name doesn't exactly have a ton of followers given that issue back when he was yellow 'Fredbear.' Personally, I thought it was better with Fredbear, but that bite… I don't wanna think about it, let's just clock in, settle down at my desk,and go through these damn applications.

With a yawn, I step into the office I so fondly have joked about being my home. Mostly because the absence of other employees so often has me called in more times than I'm willing to count, thus resulting in me being here a hundred percent more than I am at home, but I like to chime in just how much I know this place inside and out. I'm one of a small handful of people who know everything there is to know about this place. Everything. Sometimes I consider a curse, too, though. Management isn't exactly fond of letting people who know this stuff loose, but, to be fair, I haven't exactly tried to leave. So, in a sense, I guess you could blame me,but I blame the economy. I think of all the things I'd truly like to blame for my problems as I step over to the closet of my office, cracking the old, wooden door open and looking over the contents inside.

It was pretty empty, aside from my hat and little silver badge. I usually keep my Security jacket in here too, but with it having been so cold outside lately, I've just been wearing it under my winter coat. Speaking of thick-ass winter coat, I would lean myself forward as I slid my coat off of me, sighing as it was now on the ground. I look down at myself and couldn't seem to hold a second sigh back. I needed to eat more, I really did. I just can't. Limited fees equals limited feeds. Don't even get me started on my raggedy black dress pants and muddied black shoes. I hated my work uniform. Mostly because of how dirty it always looked regardless of me cleaning it or not, but I just… hate it. I don't know, I can't seem to explain it, I guess. With a shake of my head, I move back to the door to my office and go to close it. Just as I do, an outstretched arm extends and stops the door from fitting into the door frame.

"Oh! Hey, hey!" The voice was a bit higher in pitch. It was still clearly male, but it sounded as if it had come from a younger source. After pondering whether or not to simply push the arm away, I silently think to myself that it's much too early to be Management already coming to chew me out. Not to mention the voice didn't match. So, with a soft sigh, as I so often do, I opened the door to finally just figure out the source itself. It was a boy- well, young man, really. He stood at what most would consider an average height, just under six foot. His short, brown hair was cut so short, in fact, it was only two steps from being able to be called 'going bald.' He stood quite tall, however, back straight, chin up. It was almost impressive in some weird way. Almost.

"I-I'm sorry, but who let you in?" I ask, my words sounding forced, tired, as they always do nowadays. I didn't mean to sound so rude to the guy, but it was an honest question. I know I sure didn't let him in.

"Oh, the door was wide open, and no one else was around, so I just… kinda followed you. Sorry." Well, shit. I've made my bed, suppose it's time to sleep in it.

"Oh. My bad." I muttered before kicking the leg of my office chair, pushing it out from my desk, but waiting to sit in it until I had assisted the young man with… whatever it was he needed help with. "Well, uh, you're here now. What can I help ya with?" I asked, trying my best not to sound rude, but, hey, it was early in the morning, man. Doing my best. The other male would shift his stance a surprising amount, seeming to lose a lot of his first-impression confidence as he responded.

"Yeah, uh, my name's Mike. Mike, uh, Schmidt? I put an app in about a week ago for that night position?" Jeremy asked me, looking to me with what I could only really describe as a hopeful look in his me feel kinda bad, because I remember the guy's application, in fact. Problem is, he's underage until, like, October. Two years from now. Not to mention the position had just been filled, but I didn't even know if it was worth mentioning given the history of quick leaves from this place. Unfortunately, I had to break some news to him either way.

"Ah, right, yeah, Mike, yeah, about that, uhm…" I had to pause. I have no idea why I felt so bad telling this guy he couldn't work here for just under another year. It's not like it's that great a place to work, nor is a year that long of a time in the right mind. Right mind being people who want to work in this dump. Then again, if he's like ninety percent of the other people who come here, it wouldn't matter. The kid'll be gone in probably a week. On the other hand, I suppose it's not a bad amount of money for someone still in school. Either way, I had to tell him, and the longer I waited to do so, the longer I took getting my job done.

"... I'm sorry, but the night job requires you to be eighteen years of age, man. There's papers to sign and different forms to fill out, I can't do it, ya know." I finally said to the kid, again confusing myself as to why I felt so bad. Maybe it was just his hopeful look getting to me or something, but whatever it was, it didn't help when the kid took on a long face and stuffed his pale hands in his large coat pockets. A sigh escaped his lips, but he looked at me and nodded, as if he understood. Which, in a way, actually made me feel better.

"Yeah… I was afraid of that…" The kid responded, his head hanging fairly low at this point. "... Alright. I… guess I'll come back when I can then, yeah?" Jeremy said, actually giving me a small smile. I could seem to bring myself to do was smile back and nod. With that, Jeremy gave me a quick wave and stepped out of my office, closing the door behind him. I sighed again. I tell ya, if I had a dollar for every time a sigh slipped my lips, I'd never need to work in this damn hellhole.

Well, with that little moment out of the way,I guess it's time to actually do something around here. Heh, I say that like I don't do just about everything in this particular building. I turned around to the big panel of light switches behind my desk, flicking them all on. With each one, the click from the switch turning would kick the building to life, so to speak, whirring and fans being heard from even within the closed off office. Now that the machines were warming up, I suppose while I waited I could make these recordings. I had a damn script around here, I could have sworn. It took me a minute to find it, but once I found the paper, I grabbed a hold of it and sat myself down.

The phone would click as it began recording me. As a test, I threw a couple 'hellos' at it before speaking into it.

"Hey Jeremy, it's Vince. I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night…"

And that's how I'm starting this whole shebang off. I know it's not much, which usually spells icky from me, but it's 5 AM here, heh. I genuinely intend on putting another, fuller chapter up within the next couple days, and if I don't, assume I've been shot and killed, as that's the only thing I'll let stop me. With that, I want to remind people of

The lore gets tossed with this story. I really only use the very basics of said lore, and the names/characters.

Speaking of Characters, I own none of them. Five Nights at Freddy's and all the characters belong to Scott Cawthon, not me, not even a little. I wish they did, but they don't.

I hope you all have a wonderful night, I promise to return this time. I got a feeling about this one.