The Mind of a Child is Easily Misunderstood

(Apologies for any problems that may occur, I still haven't figured out how to add a summary, and sorry if this sucks)

Vincent, for perhaps the thousandth time, paused at the doorway. Freddy Fazfu-Fazbears. The source of his nightmares since the springlocks went off. He shouldn't have survived.

But he did.

And now, was re-applying for a job at the infamous, thriving pizza joint.

He put his hand on the handle. Took several deep breaths, and walked in.

The room was full of chattering children, the sound of food or liquid being spilled, the occasional wail of a child when he or she was being scolded for being too loud or too stubborn or too argumentative or too mean or just generally not good enough. The bright daylight shone in from the huge windows that dominated part of the western and northern walls. It was an average day. A beautiful day.

Save for the fact that, though all this joy, the deep mystery shrouded with bloodshed was waiting for him though the "employee's only" door.

Vincent walked quickly over. Not wanting to attract attention. It was as if he was waiting for someone to recognize him somehow, even though he was deemed innocent due to lack of evidence.

"Hey! Vinny!" came Scott's cheerful voice. Vincent flinched at Scott's unexpected voice, carrying clearly over the other voices. Some people turned their heads to look at what was happening, but soon lost interest.

H-Hey Scott" Vincent mumbled. Scott took a pace towards him and gave him a pat on the back. "Nice to have you back! We were running low on night guards." He said. Vincent looked at him fearfully. Night guards were the most dreaded work amongst the employees. Jeremy was the only one that survived a whole week. Barely. Yet, for some unknown reason, Vincent excelled at the job. It was almost as if the animatronics were afraid to touch him. That being said, it didn't mean that he enjoyed the job any more that the next guy in line.

But what choice did he have?

Scott was the only one who was willing to cover for him.

"You know the drill, 12:00-6:00. No slacking or lollygagging or I'll have you fired." Scott continued. Scott would never fire Vincent. He was too valuable. But in any case, the mild threat was little more than a formality anyways. So Vincent accepted that.

"Anyways" Scott babbled "We finally put Toy Foxy back together but you will NOT believe how long it took-"

Vincent was only half paying attention. His mind was miles away. His thoughts too scattered to comprehend what he was saying, wondering if he had made the right choice coming back here. And that was unfortunate. Suddenly, Scott swung a full, roundhouse blow at Vincent, catching him off-guard. Vincent barely had time for a muffled shout before he fell unconscious.

Scott stood over Vincent's body. "Jeremy! C'mere!" Jeremy entered. He had heard the blow and was hesitant at first, but then turned too all-out fear when he saw Vincent out cold. "What…what happened here?!" He said. "Dang, I hate doing that" Scott muttered to himself before answering Jeremy's question. "I hit him; drag him into the security office. Put it on restricted access." "Ye-yeah, sur-r-re" Said Jeremy before doing so.

Scott watched Jeremy for a while before turning away. Truth be told, Scott was a kind and honest person at heart and didn't make violent acts unless forced. And that honesty made him a bit guilty for deceiving Vincent with his fake happy voice. His head was spinning at high speed, trying to plan the next action.

In the end, he just decided to go ahead with what he'd told Vincent.

-Time Skip-12:00-

Vincent woke up groggily to the annoying buzzing of the decades-old light in his office. The faint, indirect light seemed brilliant to his unaccustomed eyes. He winced.

He was sitting upright on a swivel chair. His hands were restrained by retractable straps that allowed movement, yet would instantly retract if it detected sudden movement. The dark corridor and the 2 vents screamed of malice.

On the desk, he saw the tools of trade for an employee: A Freddy mask, a flashlight with a rechargeable, yet cheap battery, a monitor and the fan that didn't have an "off" button. The only new thing here was a video tape labelled "audio only". "The tape was supposed to play at 12" he thought absentmindedly before jerking his head and glancing at his watch.12:01. "Maybe I should listen to the recording, just to while away the hours" he thought before checking the cameras out of habit. Prize corner-clear, Kid's Cove-clear, Show Stage-clear, Main hall-clear. He put his monitor down and for the first time since he was dumped here, started to think. He heard somewhere that, on the first night, all you have to do to survive is to wind up the music box. He put a drop of water on the "wind up music box" icon and played the recorder.

"Hey!" said Scott's voice "uhhh…so…-static-um….I assume you know what to do. You've been here before. I'm confident that you will, uh, survive. We really can't afford any more employees. Um… what was I going to say? Oh ye-static-ah, don't make any sudden movements, the straps, I'm sure you noticed them, will retract. It's just a precaution after what happened…..last t-static-ime…. . You understand that we feel no animosity towards you right? It's just that…..well…..the budget…." Scott trailed off after that, seemingly unsure of himself. Vincent cut the recording off, not caring if he missed something vital.

He didn't want to be bothered tonight. Not tonight when the animatronics are out hunting for his blood. A trifle bit more so than the average secutity guard because he was the one responsible for the animatronics being haunted in the first place.