Propping his feet up on his desk and downing a hearty gulp of beer, Mike Schmidt wipes his mouth and checks the watch around his wrist. It reads off 12:37. Like skipping school, skipping work feels similar. There's that thrill knowing that you're at home doing whatever you want as your classmates or co workers sit in an uncomfortable desk, waiting for the next directions or writing down useless math formulas.
Well, in Mike's case, there is no one else working besides him. He's supposed to be at that pizzeria and, the manager's exact words, "Make sure that no one breaks in." If that truly was the case, then Mike wouldn't be needed as the night guard. The animatronics were more than capable of taking care of any burglars that wandered into the establishment. It makes Mike wonder what his true purpose of being in the restaurant is, because the burglar explanation was an obvious lie.
In actuality, he watches over the creepy animatronics that are the stars of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. But why would he return when they're set on killing him? For the second day of his shift, Mike will not be present in the office in favor of relaxing at his snug house with a cold beer in his hand and preserving his much-treasured life. Not that there's much going on since he's technically quitting his current job. But hey, at least he volunteers at the food shelter a couple times a week. If there's one thing he learned when he was younger, repay what others gave you. If not, then bad luck will fall upon you.
On the TV in front of Mike, the UFC fighter sends a punch to the opponent's face, knocking him out cold. Even though Mike has watched this episode several times, he still jumps onto his feet and yells at the TV like some sort of crazed maniac.
His voice dies down as his phone rings in his pocket. Probably one of his parents wanting him to stop at a grocery store to get something for them. Honey, could you get me a carton of milk? No, he'll say, it's past midnight. I'll gladly get it for you tomorrow. Grumbling, he takes it out and answers with a, "Hello?"
The other voice on the line breathes loudly. "Who's there?" Mike asks. The other person suddenly hangs up, leaving Mike to stare at his phone in astonishment. Did Freddy seriously just call him?
Should I be worried? Unless the animatronics can drive, they couldn't possibly get to his house before six. And wasn't it a Fazbear rule that the animatronics had to stay in the pizzeria after hours? Imagine the headlines: 'Freaky animatronics seen driving a car! Another spotted cruising on a motorcycle!'
Flipping the remote in the air, Mike chuckles. "There's no way he can make it to my house. He doesn't even know where I live! Haha, what a joke." Pocketing his phone and thinking nothing of the call, he resumes watching the reruns of UFC. The phone call slips from his mind as he continues watching his favorite show. Throughout the show he only gets up to get another beer from the fridge and pop a bag of popcorn. Around two o'clock he grabs blankets and makes himself comfortable on the sofa.
I'll try to get another job tomorrow, he promises himself. But I'm never going back to that pizzeria again. I'll never stoop so low to threaten my own life for money.
It's 2:19 when he hears a tap. Half asleep on his couch, the TV light making him squint, he mutes the TV and listens. It's not uncommon for animals to lurk around his house and make noises since he lives in a forest. Being in a forest, he doesn't have many neighbors around except for an older lady down the road. Sometimes, her cats would slink over to his house and scratch on his windows to beg for food.
Another tap, this one harsher than the first. It sounded intentional, definitely not a cat. Sitting up on the couch, Mike's careful to not make a sound. Any other night he wouldn't have been freaking out over simple taps to his window, but on the night he decides to skip work? Anything could be outside under these sets of circumstances, maybe even Fazbear himself. Heart racing, he peeks over the sofa and glances at the door window and withholds a terrified scream at the huge shadow outside. It's something massive and he's sure he knows what it is.
"Impossible," Mike whispers, fumbling with his phone. To his shock, the machine won't turn on. His phone was charged before he started watching TV. Are they messing with his phone signals, too? Is that even possible?
Something mumbles on the other side of the door. Mike yelps when a large fist smashes into the window of the door, creating a large crack. "Let us IN!" the creature booms, undoubtedly Bonnie's voice.
"This can't be happening." Hopping off the couch, Mike heads for the other side of his house. He hears another bang and a shatter. Not possessing a garage, his little car stays outside right next to his house. Without having the safety of a garage to hide in, he'll have to risk getting seen by another animatronic to enter his car. After doing so he'll drive down to the police station. Even if they don't believe him about the animatronics trying to break in, they'll at least believe Mike's complaint about someone trying to break in. They better not ruin any more of my house.
Before he can open the door he hears a loud scratching sound, like someone's nails on a chalkboard.
"You little bitch, take that!" another animatronic snarls, that chalkboard sound cutting the air again.
Mike knows what's happening outside and his cheeks flame with anger. "Get away from my car!" he shouts, wanting to stomp outside and wring Foxy's neck. The first night of work Mike had found it amusing to annoy Foxy, personally making rude comments about his appearance and taunting him mercilessly. All the while Foxy glared into the office, his metal body shaking. It was unexpected when the fox slammed into the window, his fangs bared, hissing out, "I'll get my revenge on ya, just wait and see." If Mike knew that the next day the animatronic would be wrecking his car, he would've kept his mouth shut.
He hears Foxy laugh. "Get away from your car?" Another large scratching noise and Mike winces. "I've already slashed your tires and scratched up the paint. Now look who's the helpless one! Your ear's probably against the door, hearing me ruin your car!" To make his point, Foxy makes another scratch on the car.
Before Mike can respond, there's a horrifyingly loud bang from the kitchen. It shakes the floor, causing Mike to hold onto the wall in fear of it happening again. After moments of hearing only Foxy, Mike nervously glances down the empty hallway. Ignoring Foxy and worried that a part of his house was blown up, Mike creeps down the hallway and peeks into the kitchen. Fear hits him when he spots a large hole in the side of his house. Crumbles of drywall and dust dirty the floor. How am I going to pay for all of this?
The next sight causes Mike to sluggishly back up. Chica's digging in the fridge, throwing food she doesn't like over her shoulder onto the floor while Freddy grabs Mike's TV and smashes it onto the ground. The floor groans under their weight as they move around. So, they're bound on ruining his house.
I've got to get out of here. Creeping back down the hallway, Mike prays that Foxy's gone and silently opens up the door. Another crash comes from inside, urging Mike to get the hell away from his house. Tentatively closing the door, he sighs and prays that this is all a bad dream. He was sleeping on the couch when everything went astray, so it could be a possibility. Pinching his arm, Mike fights back the tears that sting his eyes. No way is he going to cry!
He wants to when he spots his car. "That son-of-a-bitch," Mike growls. His car's tires are mutilated, the windows smashed and explicit words written into the paint. His mother would croak if he went cruising around town in it.
"You like?"
Before Mike can take a step, Foxy's got him around the throat with his hook. When Mike struggles against him, the hook digs deeper into his neck. "Now now, Mikey, you're going to get punished for not attending work today! Why, we were so worried about ya that we came all the way to your house. We're going back inside, I hate being outdoors." The fox snorts, looking down at the man as if looking at an inferior. "I heard that Freddy made an entrance, if ya know what I mean."
"Shut up," Mike croaks against the hook. As he's forced against his will to follow Foxy back into his partially destroyed house, blood leaks down his neck. Foxy digs his hook so far into his flesh that Mike begs him to stop.
"Say please," Foxy smiles evilly, watching with pleasure as the man uselessly attempts to wrench the hook away from his neck.
"Please let go of my damn neck!"
The hook does stop carving its way into Mike's skin, but it still remains on his neck.
"I've got him!" Foxy yells out, entering Mike's kitchen with the pale man beside him.
Chica looks up from her messy mustard and bologna sandwich while Freddy halts in smashing Mike's glass plates that he received from graduating high school. Broken glass and food litter the floor, mingled with the cobbles of the house.
"Why are you eating my food?" Mike spits out. Why he firstly mentions the food instead of the damages to his house, he doesn't know. Maybe because he knows he's helpless and that he's going to die. Well, at least he could die with some courage and arrogance. Foxy will be the one to do it, Mike knows. Even if the other animatronics won't kill him, Foxy will surely take his time murdering him in the most painful way possible.
"Behus I hungee," Chica says though her full mouth, food flying. Mike hears Foxy mutter 'gross' under his breath.
"Why did you skip work?" Bonnie snaps, entering the kitchen while nursing his palm. "Broke the door down," he quickly adds when everyone stares at him.
"Because I didn't want to die! And now because I skip one day of work you trash my house? Unbelievable!"
"What's unbelievable is how many ways I've got planned to kill ya," Foxy hisses into his ear.
With a terrifying smirk, Freddy approaches the man until they're practically nose to nose. His eyes remain calm as he hears the crude remarks come from under Mike's breath. "I've never met a man like you before," the bear admits. "How you treated us that first night was horrible. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"I can list off a few choice words I want to call him," Foxy mutters.
"Mean!" Chica adds unnecessarily.
"Shut up," Mike mumbles, an edge of defiance re-entering his voice. Fully knowing that he's digging himself a deeper hole, he doesn't have the nerve to care. He'll be dead before he starts caring about the robots and their feelings.
"Don't be rude to Chica, or any of us, if you want to live," Freddy warns.
"Chica can't handle being told to shut up?"
"Do you want me to kill you? Leave Chica alone, or I swear I will."
Mike blinks. "Wait," he starts, confused. "You didn't come here to kill me?"
"It wasn't our first intentions," Bonnie admits, standing next to Freddy. Out of all the animatronics (and not including Chica), Bonnie seemed the most harmless.
Being surrounded by massive animatronics isn't the least bit comfortable and Mike unsuccessfully tries to scootch away. "Trashing your house was for purposely skipping work and being a total ass to us," Freddy adds.
"Ass!" Chica throws bologna at Mike, barely missing him and sticking to the wall. Mike has to physically bite his tongue to not call her a rude name.
"That's right, Chica." Foxy's breath is uncomfortably hot in Mike's ear. The man struggles to get away and screams when the hook bites into the crevice it had already made moments before.
"Foxy," Freddy says sternly, eyeing the fox. "Control yourself."
After grumbling, the hook leaves Mike's skin. Chica squirts more mustard onto her sandwich while Freddy backs away from the human and leans against the couch.
"I don't get it." The animatronics all look at Mike. "You risk getting seen by the public and break dozens of the pizzeria's rules just to punish me for being rude to you?" Before anyone can interrupt him, Mike continues in a rushed voice, "Why do you think I was rude to you? I was fighting for my life in that office! I didn't know if I was going to step outside or see my parents ever again! Try thinking about that for a second. Do you know what it's like being hunted down? To fear for your life?"
Bonnie glances at the ground. "We all do," he says quietly, shuffling his feet. "It's not by chance that we can magically move around the way we do. We weren't programmed to be like this."
It takes a minute for Mike to fully grasp what Bonnie's saying, and the realization makes his mouth dry.
"Looks like he understands," Freddy announces. "Foxy, check upstairs. See if there's anything up there."
Mike feels his heart drop and the first bits of worry enter his voice when he begs, "No, you can't go up there." His throat, red and starting to bruise, aches when he talks.
"Why not?" Foxy snarls, a devious look on his face.
"Because..." All of the animatronics stare at him and he swallows nervously. "It's not a room you'd like to go in."
"What? Is it full of your doll collections?" Foxy snaps.
"Where the hell did you get that from? No, it's..."
But Foxy's already released his hold on Mike and dashes down the hallway and up the stairs.
Mike chases after him, hopping up the stairs by three's, hoping that Foxy won't ruin anything. Bonnie watches Freddy slowly go up the stairs, his bunny ears alert for noise. Freddy's closest friend and a Fazbear connoisseur, he still can't fathom why they're still here. The plan was to make Mike scared and for him to learn that what comes around goes around. Maybe then he won't make the same mistake that they made when they were humans, an assurance that he won't end up like them.
In a way it's like punishing your child. You have to act all stern to make the lesson clear so they won't repeat the same mistakes again. Yes, Mike's been terrible to us, but he's a one-of-a-kind man. Freddy picked up on it, too. Something about Mike is special, the hell if I know what it is.
Entering the upstairs room, Mike freezes in the doorway. He watches with horror as Foxy picks up a tiny glass ornament of an angel, originally from Mike's deceased grandparents. The items from his grandparents mean more to Mike than anything else.
"Put it down," Mike hisses.
Leisurely Foxy holds out his hand, showing off the pristine item, then lets the glass fall onto the ground. It shatters loudly and something in Mike snaps.
"You-!" Before Mike can unleash his anger on Foxy, Freddy claps a hand over Mike's mouth and holds the man in place. Tears falling, Mike screams into Freddy's hand and struggles, watching as Foxy ruins the items that he holds dear. With every piece that's broken, Mike can feel a part of him break, too.
"Mike? What about this?" With a grunt, Foxy holds up a box containing a glass tea set.
Not only was it Mike's grandmother's, but also his mother's, too. Squeezing his eyes shut he waits to hear a loud crash.
"Open his eyes," Foxy commands. "I want him to see this."
After giving Foxy a long look, Freddy forces Mike's eyes to open with a sharp pinch to his side.
"Ki-YA!" After throwing the teapot into the air, Foxy kicks the glass karate-styled with all his strength. The broken glass glints as it soars through the air. He does this with the next tea item, and the next...
"Everything's damaged," Foxy states proudly, wiping his dusty hands on his fur. Indeed it is, there's not a chance of going through the room without getting badly cut. His ears droop when Freddy says nothing, turning away from the room without a word. Mike continues to sob.
With Freddy's disapproval and a strange feeling rising in Foxy's body, he grabs Mike and shakes him. "Stop crying, ya shit." He winces when Mike sobs harder. "Stop crying!"
"You destroyed everything..." Mike heaves and hides his face. "Why?"
Foxy can't stand seeing Mike cry over something that isn't due to physical pain. It's too emotional to watch. He instantly feels better when his hook slices through Mike's arm, knowing that these wails are due to pain, not emotional loss. Blood pours from the wound and Mike's trying to rip his arm away from Foxy, causing the hole to widen. His steps stagger, his cheeks pale, and Foxy's the one that catches him when he falls.
It's a blur from there. Mike remembers being carried downstairs and sitting on the sofa where his blankets lay. Somehow he knows that the animatronics won't kill him, even Foxy. He recalls Chica handing him a mutilated sandwich and telling him that it's okay, she forgives him for being so mean. Bonnie sweeping the destroyed room with his eyes, a slightly guilted look on his face. Foxy cleaning the blood off his hook, the anger previously burning in his eyes now gone. Freddy's the one who shakes his head at the mess and commands the animatronics to head back to the pizzeria, saying that, "Our work here is done."
"Why don't you kill me," Mike pipes up from the couch, a cloth covering the wound on his arm. The doctor isn't an option, he's in too much debt. The hole in the wall behind him lets in a cold breeze, making the man shiver. "You tried to do it when I was in the office. What's so different about now?"
Freddy doesn't hesitate a second when he says, "We've already broken enough rules as it is."
"Was it worth it?" Mike asks, looking at each of the animatronics. Foxy stares at his hook. Bonnie stares at the floor.
"I don't know," Freddy says truthfully, and with that, he motions for the other animatronics to leave.
"Why did we go that far?" Bonnie whispers into Foxy's ear as they leave through the broken-down front door, worry on his face. "I feel bad."
Much to Mike's surprise, Foxy shrugs. "Skipping work and being rude to us, I guess. I got my revenge," he whispers. "That's all I care about."
"Bye Mikey!" Chica yells, waving with the mustard bottle in her hand. "Don't skip work or we'll have to come back to your house! And get more bologna because I ate all of it." Mike suspects that she isn't fully aware of what happened the past twenty minutes. To think, twenty minutes ago Mike was on his sofa, ready to sleep in his snug and warm home.
"Before we go..." Freddy sighs, feeling a small pinch of regret enter his chest, "Make sure you're at work tomorrow." Looking at Mike's dirty and emotionally wrecked face, Freddy knows that the lesson had been learned.
When they're away from his house, Mike feels the sobs rise in his chest. Something feels broken inside of him, and he's not sure what.
It goes to show how different someone can become in twenty minutes.
Outside, the crunch of the animatronics' feet on the leaves fade until the sound disappears entirely. An owl hoots. The moon shines brightly. In the darkness of the night, clutching onto the bloodied cloth, Mike wonders how he's going to get back onto his feet from this terrifying and traumatizing mess.
