Disclaimer: I do not own Five Night's at Freddy's, I merely own the original characters and the plot. I hope you have a pleasant read

I got an email from the manager of the place saying that I was their new security guard on a Friday, and in all fairness, I'm not even the slightest bit surprised by getting the job, seeing that I was the only one who applied for the job just as the old security guard quit. I remember seeing the ad in the newspaper, and I thought to myself, 'huh, this actually doesn't seem that hard at all,' so I thought that I might as well go for it. I went for the interview, surprised that there was no one else outside the security office waiting to be interviewed. It wasn't a good job; you only got $100.50 for an entire week, and I need more than that to survive. But I'm desperate for cash and I don't really feel like sponging off of my aunt and her boyfriend for much longer.

I introduced myself as David Ware, a willing and able person who wanted to work for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza and embrace the childlike joy of the place even though on the inside I was screaming in horror still after passing those weird things playing the instruments. They asked me if I had any experience with security and I told them that no I did not, but my dad was the manager of the place when I was a kid. They asked me what interested me, and I thought it would be best to say that I just loved Freddy and his friends so much and that they meant a lot to me, which, believe or not, they do not mean a single thing to me at all. I handed them my CV and they said they'd get in touch, and when I left I distinctively heard the man say "only one fuckin' applicant." So, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't feeling confident.

In the email my new manager asked me to start at midnight on the Monday, seeing that he wanted me to just work night shifts to begin with. I said sure, because I'm a little bit of an insomniac and can't sleep for hours on end in the night but slept like a log through the day. Wait, maybe that's nocturnal? I don't even know anymore, I only just about passed high school let alone college. All I knew was that when I got the job, the first thing I did was call my aunt, who squealed down the phone giddily and her boyfriend laughing saying that he was happy for me for finally getting a stable job and not going from one place to another.

'To think you're working at Freddy's! I thought you hated those dancing thingies.' My aunt said, sounding confused.

'Animatronics, auntie. Besides, I kinda need to get over my fear of those things sooner or later.' I said admittedly. I always remember my dad taking me to Freddy's as a kid before the Incident, and for some reason, whenever I looked at those things I would always run away in fear and hid somewhere far away from them, and then my dad would say how he would protect me no matter what. I still haven't visited him yet. It's been what, ten years already? Last time I saw him I was twenty-five and he refused to acknowledge my assistance and screamed in my face behind the glass. Kinda made me think twice about seeing him again.

I told some of my old friends from college, and they all laughed in my face about it, because what about your teaching career man I thought you wanted to teach kids. But the problem with that is that the kids here don't want to be taught anything. They just want to be kids and not listen to what you have to say. But the new job starts in literally twenty four hours or so, and I need to catch up on my sleep as soon as possible. All I can hope for is that this job doesn't suck as much as the last one (trust me, you don't want to know the last job I had).

I always have nightmares about those freaky animals, and at times I can't help but wonder if they're just my imagination or it they're actually messed up things that have happened to me. Dreams of being chased and beaten, nearly suffocated and scratched at, I was a messed up kid. And now I'm working with them; but this is the only way I can look them in the eye and not pee myself. As now as I sit in this dark, cold and oddly smelly office, and thinking to myself why these door are so much more high tech and up to date than my iPhone, I can't help but try to not look at the monitor, as I the first thing I see are those three, staring off into space and yet looking as happy as can be.

The three of are stood together, side by side. The brown bear, Freddy, with his stupid black top hat and his funky matching bow tie looking like he's about to break into song. You know what, Freddy? It's a no from me. You haunted my dreams long enough as a kid and I won't let you scare me now, I'll take you on. And then Bonnie's there, that great big lavender monstrosity with his ears bent slightly and his very own fancy red bow tie and one of those weird guitars. But then there's Chica, right, and he… she, actually, is literally just standing there with a cupcake the size of her face on a plate with a big that has "LET'S EAT!" on it. I never liked any of them, but looking at Bonnie and Chica sends the worst shivers down my spine.

The phone rings and I put it through loud speaker. The clock has five minutes until it reaches midnight.

'Hello, hello? Uh… I'm not gonna, lie, you must be pretty desperate if you're willing to work this shift tonight. If you're willing to work here at all a-actually.'

The voice of the man is an odd combination: he sounds terrified but oddly chirpy. The guy doesn't pause to let me get a word in edgeways, and then I realise that this message is in fact, pre-recorded.

'I've worked here a while ago, uh, so I'm gonna tell you the ins and the outs of this place, y'know? It's a good thing this message is being recorded, because these things I could only say once, if you, uh, know what I mean (no, no I don't). Right, let me just say that the characters get really active at night.'

'What does that mean?' I ask aloud, forgetting that Phone Guy isn't actually talking to me presently.

'… these roaming modes, but since the whole Bite of '87 thing, we had to switch the modes. So now they're only, uh, active a-at night… you know, I never thought that they'd nom on brains… ha ha, you'd think they'd be zombies… s-scratch that, zombies w-would be MUCH better. These guys they… they don't like people… w-well, ADULTS, really. I haven't seen them treat a kid badly… but if they see you they'll, uh, most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton… so they'll try and… "help" you.'

As Phone Guy rambles on, I hear the clock chime suddenly as it's suddenly midnight. The lights flicker alongside with the monitor and holy shit did Bonnie just turn his head to the camera just now?

'…N-Now don't panic! Be thankful that we have doors here, back in the day they had to wear a mask to trick those guys, and sometimes they weren't as lucky. You gotta show a bit of… mutual respect for them at times. Unless they're like, ripping you apart. B-But I'm sure you'll be juuuuuust fine. It's just six hours… just six… if it were more, you wouldn't last, heh. A-Anyway, you can do it, buddy. Good night, man.'

The message ends but my eyes are glued to the screen, and I realise that my eyes aren't playing tricks on me as Bonnie, with those maroon eyes of his staring straight into the security camera. My eyes are straining me and I can feel them water, but I feel that if I blink that I'll regret it. My heart is racing too fast to function, sweat forming underneath my purple cap. And Bonnie stares at me, and his head slowly tilts to the side, and I can imagine a slow creaking sounds as his head moves, his mouth opening slightly.

I blink.

I see Chica and Freddy, still and lifeless in their positions.

My heart stops.

Where's Bonnie?

I scramble for my torch on my desk and knock over a few sheets of paper, heart hammering and my breath quickening as a sudden image flashes in my mind. And it's Bonnie, towering over me, and I hear a childlike wail in the back of my mind, and oh my God, it's me whose crying and begging, and it's me whose–

I grab the torch and turn it on and spin around in my seat.

Bonnie's face is directly in my own.

His eyes are bulging, gleaming and menacing.

He screams, his voice a twisted collaboration of a machine and a child.

His bottom jaw flaps uncontrollably at me as he screams.

I see his hands lunge at me as I fall out of my seat.

And I'm screaming, shielding myself as I can't help but stare at him in absolute terror.

DON'T

DON'T HURT ME.

I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING.

PLEASE.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME.

I blink.

And now he's gone.

did you get him?

yeah.

no you didn't. don't lie.

…

he's not hurting us. it's not him.

yeah it is.

it's NOT.

sHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.

…

…

…

i'll get him.

you sure?

yeah…

… okay…

…

…

i'll kill him… i'll kill him for sure… and then… maybe…

… maybe we can actually go home this time…