FNaF Fanfiction: Redux and Re-edited~!
Mike Schmidt ran a hand through his messy, brown hair.
"Another night, another twenty-five bucks..." He muttered to himself, flipping through the cameras on his tablet. Well, it wasn't his tablet, it belonged to Fazbear Entertainment. But he worked for them, as a night guard for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, just one restaurant in the large chain.
He flinched as he heard raspy moaning in his left ear. It was quiet, but he knew it came from Bonnie, a purple rabbit animatronic that performed during the day and hunted him at night.
Slamming his hand on a button, therefore closing the door on Bonnie, he took a moment to admire his handiwork. After his first week, the company had wanted to fire him, going so far as giving him the pink slip. Still, with no one else offering to take up his position, he had been re-hired the following month. With more security on staying in his post, he had chosen to clean up the office, get all the cobwebs off the furniture, etc. The door buttons didn't stick anymore, and the office itself was much more appealing.
Glancing at the opposite door and finding nothing, he checked the cameras once more. Freddy was in the kitchen, Foxy at the cove, Chica in the dining room, and Bonnie in the supply closet.
He opened the door. No sense in wasting power. Choosing to sit back for a few moments, he took a sip from a soda he had brought. Even after working here for several weeks, the animatronics could be tricky and he often left at six AM mentally exhausted. If it weren't for sodas, and the odd coffee, he wouldn't have made it so long.
Chica had chosen to walk a bit faster and stood, gaping, at the right hand door. With a flick of the wrist, he shut it and was back to checking cameras. Freddy had moved back to the dining room, but Bonnie and Foxy had not changed. Glancing at the door, he saw Chica had moved elsewhere, se he opened it up once again.
He sighed, leaning back in his swivel chair and propping up his feet. A few moments of peace, that was what he needed. Just a few minutes of assurance that he wasn't going to be killed. He had nothing against the animatronics, but it was a bit problematic when they were trying to kill him on a false note. They thought he was an endoskeleton and would try to stuff him into a costume. This was because they had been programmed to suit up any endoskeleton they saw to prevent customers from becoming confused or scared at the robotic sight, instead of the familiar anthropomorphic animals. It wasn't their fault, it was the fault of whomever had chosen to program that particular quirk into their AI.
Check lights. Check cameras. Sip soda. Rinse and repeat. That's what things came down to. There was no 'off' button for the animatronics. Even if there was, keeping them off for too long could lock up their servos, and could cost the company a fortune fixing or replacing the animatronics. He'd get fired for sure.
Following his pattern, he clicked on the door lights. Chica was being relentless, having appeared back at the doorway. He offhandedly shut the door before grabbing his tablet to keep tabs on everyone.
One of the last cameras he checked was cam 2A, the one beside Pirate's Cove, where Foxy usually lurked. He expected it to be empty, or at the most see Bonnie standing at the back. That certain animatronic wasn't in the hall, however, one was. It was Foxy.
The realization took nearly a second to reach him. He shouted out as he saw the all too familiar rust red fox come dashing down the corridor. Throwing down the tablet, he heard it hit the tiled floor with a 'clunk.' He couldn't be sure of whether it broke or not, but that wasn't the matter. What was the matter was that a robot was about to pop through his doorway and kill him.
Using all of the speed and reflex learned from the previous weeks on the job, he shot forward out of his seat and hit the button. Time seemed to slow as the door slid down and the fox appeared. Foxy leaned down at an angle...
And skidded into the room, metal endoskeleton feet making a screeching sound against the tile floor just as the door shut completely. He screamed in terror as the fox towered over him, jaw permanently opened in a horrible smile. Cold, robotic hands grabbed for him, and the chair tipped back, dumping him onto the floor.
This is it, he thought to himself. After a record breaking three weeks, I'm going to die.
The pirate fox picked him up by his uniform's collar, pointed hook ripping through the fabric. He felt an animatronic eye on him (the other was covered by the eye patch at the time), but shut his eyes tightly, in terror.
There was the familiar sound of the heavy electromagnetic door opening. After several moments he began to sway back and forth, nearly a foot in the air. Questioningly, he opened his eyes just enough to see out.
He was being carried down the hallway, the fox swinging him as he was taken down the hall. They passed a clock, the time reading 4:36. The six AM alarm wouldn't be saving him tonight. Unable to think of anything else, he went limp like the man that left tutorials on the phone had said to do. If he played dead, the animatronics might think he was just an empty suit. They might let him live. With any luck, they might not think to try stuffing an endoskeleton inside him.
Foxy tossed him into the backstage room, the other three animatronics already waiting. He landed with a 'thump,' his knees complaining as he fell on them. Not that a bruise took priority in a situation like this. Turning around, he saw the four animatronics leaning over him, ready to end his life.
The dull metal table was prepped with an empty suit, ready just for him. It wasn't a Freddy suit like he had been told, instead, it was an ashy grey creature, eyes dark. It had a more prominent snout, not unlike Foxy's.
Thick hands gripped his shoulders, torso, legs. Arms shoved him forward, readied the suit. He began to scream in terror, the knowledge that this was truly the end looming over him. Passing out, his last sensation was that of a horrible pain as he was both crushed into a suit and ripped apart by countless metal contraptions within...
-Time skip to Sunday Morning, 12 am. Deal with it.-
His mind was fuzzy, thoughts blurred and nonsensical as he swam in and out of consciousness. Even after his ordeal however long ago, he felt fine. Perhaps a little sore, but otherwise fine.
He sat on a cold, metal table, shelves lining the walls, animatronic heads cramping each one. He was facing a door, and a sliver of light escaped through it- he realized he was still in the backstage storage. Questioningly, he looked down at his himself... and almost gagged.
His 'hands' were thick animatronic paws. Dried streaks of blood ran up the arm to the suit's neck. He felt numb in shock, he couldn't think.
Except...
No...
No.
NO-
He was dead, murdered, just like the man on the phone had said.
He shivered, gasps escaping his animatronic suit despite him no longer having any breath- the beginnings of sobs that wouldn't come.
"Freddy... He might be awake now. Can we go see him?"
Oh no. They're coming back for me now.
"No Chica, we need to give him time, he-"
"Freddy, pretty please?"
"No."
"With sprinkles on top?"
"Fine! We'll go see him! But he's probably not even awake yet, so don't blame me when you're disappointed!"
How can those monsters be disappointed?! The can't have emotions, they can't think, they took away my life! He thought in a panic. There's no telling what they're going to do to me now...
The door swung open, hitting the wall with a crash. There stood one... Two, three, four animatronics, eyes wide open and mouths gaping in an insane smile.
He stared at them for a few moments, and they stared back. Then, out of the awkward silence, one of them spoke. It was Chica who moved her jaw.
"Hello Wyless!"
-Mike's POV-
"W- Wyless...?" It was my voice. My human voice. Not that I was comforted.
She looked at me oddly for a few moments before answering.
"Well, that is you! What else would we call you?" She sounded like a... kid. Eleven or twelve, at the best. But that voice didn't suit the monster before him.
"I..I..." I don't have any words to say. Well... maybe that's not so true. "Why did you do this to me?" I ask, quietly at first, then louder. "WHY?!"
I lurch off the table, but instead of standing, I collapse onto the floor, staring at the thick feet belonging to the animatronics.
Freddy bends down, looking at me worriedly of all things, and steps forward to grab me. He and Bonnie grasp my arms with a steady grip and begin to haul me out of the room, albeit almost gently.
"Where are we going?" I ask despairingly, dragging my feet along the floor in some sort of effort to stop this thing from taking me to wherever we were going.
I struggle against the animatronics, wanting them to release me. Still, my efforts are for nothing as I am shoved into a darkened room- one I recognize as the kitchen. A feeble light shines from a nearby room, illuminating pots and pans. I'm practically tossed into the side room with the light.
Bonnie looks me over, sadly. "I'm sorry sir, just calm down. Please. We'll be back for you in a bit. Don't worry, you'll be fine. Don't be scared."
Before I can take in my new surroundings, Freddy flips off the small light and shuts the door, plunging the room into darkness. I hear the door lock with a small click.
"DARN IT FREDDY! WE WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING! CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE US IN PEACE FOR ONCE?!" Shouts a feminine voice. Several seconds later, the small light clicks back on, illuminating the small room.
Standing before me is a cat like animatronic. To its left is a rabbit. They are both beaten up and damaged, and are a dirty gold color. "Whoa. A new animatronic." Bending down, she helps me stand up from the position I was in- flopped on the floor, the result of being shoved into a small room with little motor control. Seeing I can barely stand on my own, she assists me in leaning against a wall. She tips her head, deep in thought. "Did they kill you too?"
I process her question, answering once I am standing unsteadily but without fear of falling thanks in part to the wall. "Yes... they did."
Wait, too? Does that mean- "Are you human? Did they murder you too?"
"Well, yes, I was human. But it was my fault I died. They took out Spring over there." She replies, motioning to the rabbit, who gives me an unsettling stare.
"Were you an old night guard? Is that why you're back here, all alone?" I ask, becoming increasingly confused.
"Uh, no, we weren't night guards. I actually died when I was thirteen. Being dead for years now, though, I like to think of myself as being at least eighteen. Mentally." She taps her head.
I glance at the rabbit. It doesn't look particularly unfriendly. By its feet are several playing cards, scattered, presumably when the cat had stood up to turn on the light.
"Oh um..." She says. "Also, I'm not a cat like everyone thinks. My suit's supposed to be an otter. At least that's what I heard, and Spring thinks so too."
"Okay..." I reply, slowing sliding down the wall into a sitting position, already better at controlling myself.
In front of me, the two have gone back to their game. Gathering the cards, they have begun playing as another question comes to my mind.
"Who are you?" I ask, addressing the rabbit. "Are you an adult, or a teenager? And are the other animatronics older as well? They seemed young-"
"Stop talking, and I might answer some of your idiotic questions!" The rabbit growls, annoyed by my sudden burst of questions, it seems.
"Yes, I'm an adult. Been one since the day I died. You don't get younger with age, even after death, you know. As for those nasty kids... Yeah, I'd say they're around twelve maybe. They looked very nice when I-"
"Uh, don't-" The otter starts, trying to stop the rabbit, Spring, from continuing.
"When I watched the life bleed out of their little seven year old bodies..." It, likely a he, finishes.
I'm disgusted, and I'm sure it shows. He notices, and gives a dark laugh.
"Don't overthink it. It was... A coincidence..." She says, trying to cover up his mistakes. "He's just like that sometimes. Don't worry."
"Okay... Okay..." I reply uncomfortably. "But why did they kill me? I don't think it's really because they thought I was an endoskeleton."
"Nah." She replies. "Actually, they're just sad. I mean, dying is something tough to get over. They just want an adult they can trust to comfort them, is my guess. That's nothing we can provide." She motions to herself and Spring.
"Uh..."
She looked straight at me as she spoke, "They want a... Parental figure, Mike. Someone to talk to and hug and-"
"WAIT, WHAT?"