Seven nights. Seven full nights of hell, and he had made it out, alive no less. Mike Schmidt was his name, and as he stared at the pink slip ending his job, all he could feel was a burning anger. Clenching the slip in his hand, he thrust it into his pocket and forced himself to turn away from the man currently sitting in the office.
During the day, his office was used by the manager, a fact that might have meant something if he had kept his job beyond seven nights. Mike really didn't care what relation it might have to the animatronics, he was done. Stepping out of the corridor, he glanced toward Pirate's Cove and paused for a moment.
"But Moooom, I wanna see Foxy!" One kid complained to his mother, crying as he was dragged over to the other animatronics. They were currently singing a song Mike remembered well. One night, either the first or second, he had run out of power close to 6am. Those eyes haunted him, he shuddered.
Mike put both his hands in his pockets, and slowly approached the small stage. During the day, it almost seemed normal. Mike silently wondered how many days it would be before he stopped jumping at every shadow. Curiosity got the better of him, and he pulled the curtain slightly to the side, and peeked in.
There was Foxy, still and devoid of life. Mike glanced around, making sure none of the staff were watching him. Being fired was one thing, being told off was something he'd rather avoid. Mike took a step forward, and opened the curtain slightly more. Stopping, he looked at Foxy properly in the light. Mike felt a nostalgic smile come across his face, blinded by memories of his childhood to the danger in front of his face.
"Memories of good ol' Foxy eh?" Mike jumped, the curtain sliding closed. Turning, he blinked, it was the manager. Mike smiled sheepishly and looked away, scratching the back of his head. However, as the manager smiled, it seemed he wasn't angry at him. In fact, the voice registered as something he actually reconised.
"I thought you...on night four." Mike took in the man he had only known from the voice, someone who had saved his life when he hadn't been aware it was in danger. Mike knew that if it wasn't for the recorded messages on the phone, he would have died on night one.
"Came pretty close really, but don't you worry, I'm made of tougher stuff than some ol' animatronics." The phone guy winked, and put a thoughtful hand to his chin. Mike didn't understand the wink, but assumed it was an inside joke, and left it alone. Mike tilted his head as the guy pointed toward Pirate's Cove, and winked once more.
"We're actually about to dump ol' Foxy and that in the back room for parts. The new models arrived, and we're planning on completely re-designing the building. These new ones have face recognition too, so no more problems with them thinking guards are endoskeletons." Once more, the guy winked, and motioned Mike forward, whispering into his ears.
"I could probably sell the old ones to ya, for a price of course." The guy winked at Mike, who felt a deep chill run down his spine, flashes of previous nights coming back to him. The guy pointed to Mike's pocket, and he pulled out the pink slip. The phone guy/manager took the slip, and stamped a big 'VOID' on it. Handing it back, Mike once more put the slip into his pocket.
"We're gonna fix the setting that allowed ya to tamper with the puppets, so as long as you don't try to do it again, I'm willing to give ya a second chance. It's...quite hard to find capable help ya know?" The manager held out a piece of paper, a wanted add, and smiled.
"We need someone to watch tha' place during tha night while the new animatronics are being set up. It's gonna take 'bout another week. If you take tha job, the old one's are yours, including your hourly pay. Heck, I'll even see if we can find you a better job working the day shift or somethin'." The guy paused and sighed.
"To be 'onest, these guys are worth a lot of money to a collector somewhere, but in here they're just junk. I'd be happy to hear they're in someone's private collection bein' treated the way relics like them should be treated. Heck, you could sell em for parts too if you really wanted, the exoskeletons cost a pretty bundle as it is." The guy turned, and began to head back down to the office.
"Offer's on the table kid. Take it or leave it." Mike looked down at the wanted add and sighed. Slowly, he turned and pulled the drape open once more. Jumping, he blinked for a moment and shook his head. It looked like Foxy had moved. For a small moment he had forgotten they could do that.
'Do I dare risk it?' Mike bit his lip as he glanced toward the stage, to where the animatronics were singing. Mike had a lot to gain; money, possibility of a stable job, a chance at revenge, but he also had a lot to lose. Mike rubbed his throat, and let the curtain fall back in place. Turning, he made his way down the corridor to the guard room, and placed the wanted add on the table in front of the guy.
"I'd like to take you up on that offer." Mike watched as a haunted look crossed the guy's face as he nodded, taking the piece of paper and folding it up. Both looked at each other, knowledge of what would be happening the following nights known to both. Sighing, the guy stood up, and held out a hand. Mike shook it, and the guy smiled grimly in response.
"Good luck out there, 'yer gonna need it."
