Freddy Fazbear's Pizza - Monday November 8th, 1993

"... and then there was the Bite of '87. I'm sure you've heard about it; that tragic event that occurred at the old location. We all remember the day Mr. Fitzgerald has his head bitten by that "Mangle" animatronic. He was a good guy; always did his job and never complained about the work conditions. But then came that tragic day; he came a little too close to that thing..." The man sighed. "He's still alive, though maybe not as, uh... functional as he was before. Mr. Smith came in to replace him for the company's sake, and helped us out in the meantime. There was also The Missing Children Incident that followed... No one really knows a whole lot about it. Not even myself, to be honest, and I run this place."

Mike shifted in his seat uncomfortably as the man spoke. He listened patiently, but he wasn't sure why he was hearing the dark history of the company's past on his first night. Most companies wanted to encourage new employees, not scare them off before they even started their first shift. "No offense, Mr. Fazbear, but... why are you telling me all this?"

Mr. Fazbear paused, meeting Mike's light blue eyes for a brief moment. "So you'll be aware of what the company's been through. I'm not going to try to hide it from you; we've had some bad accidents since we opened our doors back in 1971. Many night watchmen before you have tucked tail and fled, so I want you to understand what you're getting yourself into first." He spoke in a serious, cool tone, his entire demeanor reflecting the stress he was inevitably facing as he unloaded the dark past of his business to some 20 year old. He could only hope that by some miracle the lad would take the job despite this; they were short on staff as it was.

"You're making this sound like I'm signing on for a dangerous job." Concern grew in his voice. "... Am I?"

"Dangerous?" Mr. Fazbear stared at him in disbelief. "Mr. Schmidt, you'll only be looking at a few security cameras to ensure the building is secure from twelve to six am. You're in no danger. I just don't want you to panic when you stumble across an old newspaper that says 'something bad happened at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza' or the like."

This entire situation wasn't making a whole lot of sense to Mike, so he decided to stop asking questions about the company, for now. "I won't leave. You have my word." At his statement, the older man managed to crack a smile.

"Your office is this way; follow me" the owner said, and Mike did as he was told. The room was quite small; it only had an office chair at a desk filled with clutter, a poster of the Fazbear band that read "Celebrate!" that was slightly overlapped by the numerous kids drawings, a rickety desk fan, a red emergency phone among the clutter, and some expected surveillance equipment. The odd thing about it was the button panel by the door frame with buttons that read "Door" and "Light".

Mike took in his surroundings. Between the sloppy at best desk and the claustrophobia-inducing room size, it was hard to not feel disappointed about his new work environment. He was thankful to be earning some money for his trouble, even if it was only minimum wage.

"Feel free to change things around if you'd like. Also, don't leave this room during your shift. Listen to the recorded messages my assistant left for you. He'll explain everything you'll need to know."

Mike took his seat in the office. "Uh, thanks, sir."

"I'll see you in the morning." Smiling, he assured him, "You'll be fine." Before Mike could say anything else, Mr. Fazbear had left.

"Now what?" Mike grumbled to himself. He lazily looked around his office until the phone rang without warning, causing the young man to almost fall out of his seat. He picked up the ringing red phone on his desk, confused as to why an emergency phone would have an incoming call. It quickly made sense when he'd heard the man on the other end. It was the message from Mr. Fazbear's assistant, explaining how to do the job.

Apparently the animatronics wandered at night, and he was to close the doors if they tried to enter his office. Simple enough. Yet, his explanation of why the characters weren't allowed in the office was bone chilling, to put it lightly. If they got in, they'd confuse him for an animatronic endoskeleton and forcefully stuff him into one of the suits, filled with many awful things to impale him.

"Thanks for the warning, Mr. Fazbear! So much for 'not dangerous!'" he'd wailed to no one but himself. As much as Mike wanted to slam his fist into the buttons controlling the doors and leave them closed, he was warned he had a limited power supply. Instead, he clicked the monitor on and began watching the Fazbear band, staring eerily at the empty dining room. They were probably messing with him. At least, that's what he'd hoped…

Twelve became one, and thus far, not a single thing had changed. Mike had taken the time to thoroughly check out his office. The bird one's horrifying little cupcake prop was on his desk; its beady little eyes staring straight into his soul. After the prank call, it was starting to make him uncomfortable, so he turned it around in some hope that it'd make his job a little easier on his nerves. Whoever was responsible for the office decorations needed a talking to.

Mike knew he was a 'fraidy cat', and he would have been quitting in the morning if he hadn't need the low wages this job would provide him with. The building was much scarier at night, which was saying a lot considering how unsettling the animatronics were during the day. Why did the job just have to be with animatronics, of all things? As if the thought of inanimate objects coming to get him didn't already haunt his nightmares.

Two in the morning, and Mike was still alive. Nothing had moved! Clearly, this was all an elaborate prank; it had to be. Everyone knew the animatronics were bolted down to the stage. He continued to believe this until he checked the camera on the "Show Stage" again, and found the one with the "Let's Eat!" bib missing. He nearly jumped out of his skin. Maybe it was another employee wearing costume. It had to be.

He scrolled through the camera feeds until he landed on "Dining Area", where the yellow bird was seemingly waiting for him. It looked up into the camera from an angle, its beak hanging open in an unsettling manner. It was awfully similar to the cupcake sitting beside him. Mike closed the camera a little later for both his peace of mind and his power consumption. He checked again at three and it was gone. His heart began to race as he frantically clicked through the cameras, finding it waiting in "East Hall", staring off absently with its jaw lax again.

Not expecting to see it there, so close to him, he shrieked like a little girl. By this point, Mike was watching the camera intently, not lowering it for even a second. He was mentally kicking himself for falling for the prank, yet the possibility of it being real was too frightening to ignore. He concluded that rather be teased than be impaled.

Before long, the camera went dark and he heard footsteps approaching. His heart kept pounding as he lowered the monitor, getting ready to shut the door. When it came, he'd seal the door and turn on the light, then take a good long look at it. He'd catch whoever it was trying to make a fool of him.

Unfortunately, Mike couldn't stop compulsively toggling the door light on and off. He knew it was close, and he was going to be ready for it when it came.. After a few minutes of checking, the yellow mascot eventually made its presence known, causing Mike to shriek and slam his fist against the door button as fast as he could. Leaving the flickering light on, he ran as close as he dared to the window, examining the costumed fiend before him.

However, it was not a costume at all. All the proper animatronic parts were where they should have been, without a hint of any person inside whatsoever. He considered the idea of it being a remote controlled robot, but wasn't convinced enough to open the door. He flicked the light off before stumbling back to his seat, trembling.

Eventually, when Mike clicked on the flickering light once again, the creature was gone. He'd left the door closed until the assistant's message came to mind, reminding him to open the door unless he wanted to run out of power. The restaurant was creepy enough as it was; it didn't need to be pitch black as well.

The rest of the night was uneventful as he waited until the end of his shift. When Mr. Fazbear came in the morning, he'd have a word with him.

At around eight in the morning the next day, Mr. Fazbear stepped out of his car and deeply inhaled the fresh morning air. It was a crisp Tuesday, just cold enough to make a person prefer to go indoors- it might help business improve a little. He hummed a few notes from Carmen Overture on his way inside, since it was stuck in his head. His performance interrupted by a frail blonde man waiting at the doors of the restaurant with his arms crossed. The young man's pale blue eyes were very tired, but they were almost seething as well.

"Mr. Schmidt? What are you doing here? Your shift ends at six."

Mike simply glared at his boss. "You lied to me!" The freckles that covered his face were starting to disappear, due to the rapid reddening of his face.

Taken aback, the man stumbled on his words. "L-Lied to you? I'm not sure what you're talking about..."

"T-They come alive at night!" he shrieked. "Those things, t-they were moving around! The message said they'd s-stuff me in a suit! This'd better be some elaborate p-prank!"

Mr. Fazbear sighed. "Didn't you listen to the message? They're left in a free roaming mode at night, my boy. After '87, the customers didn't want the animatronics to roam the restaurant during the day. So, to prevent their servos from locking up, they roam at night." After some hesitation, he added, "They won't hurt you."

"B-But sir-"

"Only the Mangle has ever actually hurt anyone, and we scrapped that entire line after the incident. The ones you see are perfectly safe."

"S-So they won't stuff me into a suit?"

"Go home, kid," the boss grunted. Mike took his cue to leave, hoping for his sake that Mr. Fazbear was right about the animatronics being safe. That thing from last night didn't look friendly. It looked like it actually was coming to kill him, and that thought alone was enough to make him consider quitting. But, he'd try again. He needed the money. Besides, it was all in his head, right?