I walk up to the manager of the restaurant. He was a wide man, wearing a too-large expensive suit that was showing it's age. The room smelled of tobacco, and a general uncleanness surrounded it. The man walked up to me, straightening the shabby suit he draped on his body. I noticed it was the same suit he'd been wearing for days, for some reason.

"Do you know why I've called you here?" He says, his breath reeking of stale whisky and eyes tired.

"Yes."

"That's yes sir for you, Mr. Kennedy."

"Whatever. Sir." I was not in the mood for this today.

"Well, as you know, we have recently had to cut down on costs. The mere human usage of the suits has proved to be ineffectual. And so, it is with a most heavy heart that I have been forced to remove you from our work force." He stressed the most in a sarcastic, almost chiding way.

"I understand."

"Do you? You don't seem to be bothered by it."

"Oh no, don't worry. I'm bothered. I'm bothered by the time it's going to take me to get out of this hellhole."

"There is no need to talk like that, Mr-"

"Shut up. Shut up for one goddamned minute. Of your pathetic little life. You do not have any idea how difficult this job has been. First, you give me no goddamned doors. Then, you give me one pathetic little flashlight, with what, a minute of battery? You're a goddamned cheapskate, that's all. You don't care about your little slaves. You don't care how difficult you have made my life, going to work in this hellhole every night, knowing I may never go home again. Then, you make me dance around like your pathetic little plaything all day in a big dumb costume? I hate this damned place. So I say, go to hell. You pay me MINIMUM GODDAMNED WAGE TO GO THROUGH HELL EVERY NIGHT. I'm just happy to get out of this crapshack."

"We have had budget cuts, you know this," He said, rising from his seat.

"Budget cuts. You're pulling THAT one on me. After everything I've done for thi-"

"Yes. After everything you've done for this establishment."

"Well, you know what I say to that? I say, SCREW YOU. Screw your company, and see you in court!"

I stamp down the local high street, spitting, fists clenched in defiance. How could he do that? Pay me less than minimum wage to go through all of that, then just lay me off like some piece of crap he found on the street? I deserve better than this. I will get better than this. Mark my words, Fazbear's. I will get better than this.

I don't know what made me decide this. I don't know why I chose this as the best course of action. I guess I was just filled with rage, and spite.

It's 11PM. I cut this fine, so I don't even know if I'm going to survive this goddamned night. But if I survived all those as the choice meal, I'll make it through tonight. The night is dark, cold, and biting, as I take out my crowbar. I feel a strange nostalgia for my old days, breaking into 711 as a teenager, looking for vodka or some other heavy alcohol. Things were great back then- my parents had just gone, leaving me their money. Of course, I had to live in that crapshack orphanage for two years until I was 18, when I moved into the smaller crapshack I have right now. Those days... so angsty, so full of HATE for the world... things had barely changed. I put the crowbar between the window and frame, and tug. The window opens- damn thing was barely even locked.

The restaurant at night fills my lungs with that same dusty smoke it always had. I'd never been here as a kid- damn lazy-ass parents were too poor for that. I guess that's how I could come here and face it is an adult. I walk through the old hallway, ignoring the "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" banners that the management kept up all the time, and got to my destination- I think they called it Kid's Cove, or something like that? Whatever. My head jerks back- the hell was that? It sounded like laughing children... whatever, it's just my imagination. I get back to my job, dusty old flashlight in hand. The damn owners didn't even let me keep the torch I had when I was working here, cheapskates.

I walk up to the pile of skeletal parts on the floor- it creeped me out so much more in person. I slowly move towards it, sweaty hands clamped on the handle of the combat knife tucked away in my belt. I locate the panel on the underside of the parts with my eyes- gotta be careful, don't want to wake it up. I check my watch- 11:10. Still time before they wake up, but this would be no easy job. The white and pink mess seems to stare into me, as I take my final ginger steps towards it. The costume's mask seems to be gazing into my soul... judging me. Whatever- no time for any of that bullcrap. I slowly- slowly- reach out a hand, and touch it. It had a plastic-y feel to it on the suit parts, whereas the costume was biting cold steel. I locate the panel with my hands, and gingerly reach for it. Crap. I'm going to need to flip this abomination over. I slowly calculate the best way to do this... the parts are so disorderly, I can't find the best places to grab it. I eventually decide and find two pieces of metal that don't look too sharp, and gingerly begin to overturn the contraption.

"Balls!" I cut my wrist on a sharp, jagged edge. My hand jerks back instinctively, leaving the character to topple to the floor. I instantly regret this- the crashing noise it makes echoes loudly throughout the building. The nightguard shouldn't be here yet, I have another half hour or so. The animatronics will be waking up at around that time as well... must hurry up. I hear the laughing again... louder this time. I regret even coming here... this was a terrible idea. No, it's too late to back out now. There're records of me on the security footage. I've just got to do this, and get out again. Should be simple.

I grab the panel and open the hatch. Here it is- the programming terminal. Luckily, I learned some of this before coming here. I find the option for Facial Recognition Software, and delete the strings of code. Instead, I type an alternate set of parameters. Nothing too major... it should just have some trouble deciding between what's bad and what isn't. Maybe scare a few kids in the process, whatver. I don't care. If I'm lucky, something will happen that'll bankrupt them. Then they'd be sorry.

Right, that's done. I've just reprogrammed the mangle a little, it's not like anyone will care much, right? Now onto the next urgent job. I check my watch once more- 11:45. Crap- I need to do this FAST. If I don't, it's jail for me. I take off at a slight run to the security office, and hear that damned laughter, again. Can't back down, must erase footage. I get to the office, and find the camera terminal. I hit the menu key on the side, and hit 'erase all footage'. Of course, it needs an admin password. This will be the difficult part. I have... 10 minutes left. The laughter happens again... it feels so close this time.

I must find this admin password, in the next five minutes- the security guard will be here soon, so he can get settled in before they come at him. FAZBEAR- nothing. FREDDY'S- nothing. FREDDYS- nothing. I look at the time- 3 minutes left. I take a stab in the dark, desperately... FREDBEAR. I prepare for the inevitable lockout, 3 wrong passwords and jail. But... the option comes up on the screen saying 'Are you sure you want to erase all footage?' I pray to no particular God and press yes. FOOTAGE ERASED.

Now, this is done. I can get out of this place. I've done what I came here for... to reprogram the mangle so it scares some kids off. Surely that'll lose them some money, right? I feel satisfied with my revenge, but then I hear it- the slamming of the front door. I don't know what to do- the guard is here. And the animatronics will be in about 3 minutes... oh God... I come up with a genius plan. The window in the men's bathrooms. Of course! I run off, out the room, trying to stick to the shadows. I duck into the Prize Corner, the room with that damned puppet. I hear the guard drawing near, and then- what the hell?

Something tugs at my jeans. Something under the table tugs at my goddamned jeans. I can't scream. I can't make any sound. I look under the table, dread filling my soul. I see- a child. A small girl is sat under the table, looking at me with wide eyes. "Are you a robber?" she asks, eyes trembling. What the hell was she doing here... how did she get in? Did I- I left the window open. I realise just how stupid I was. Anyone could have gotten in, as did this small child.

"Shut the hell up, kid!" I whisper urgently.

"Are you a Robber?" She asks, louder this time.

"I said shut up!" I kick at her to shut her up, my boot colliding with her small body. She begins to let out a scream- Crap, what do I do? If this guard hears, I'm done for!

I do the first thing that comes to my mind. I unsheath the combat knife, and press it against her throat. Surely, this'll shut her up? She opens her mouth wider. There's only one thing I can do.

I let out a small gulp, and plunge the knife into her throat. I can't believe... I can't believe I just did that. Her small body goes limp in my arms, trembling arms falling still.

"Jesus Christ... god, no!" I can barely stop myself screaming. There's no blood on the floor- I caught her in my arms, forearm blocking the wound itself. Here I am, squatting down, holding this child's corpse in my hand.

I feel sick, and am about to vomit, until I hear from right outside the room- the security guard. Crap. He walks past the room, and realises there is only one minute until the animatronics officially awaken. I must act fast- I take the child in my arms, and run. I run through the restaurant, trying desperately not to spill blood from the corpse in my arms. I reach the door, and push out into the cold night air. There is no one around. I do the first thing that comes into my mind- I dump the corpse into the boot of my car, and drive off into the night.