You wander along the crowded street in your long, tattered coat with your hands buried deep in your pockets and scarf wrapped around your neck several times in an attempt to keep the chilling air from biting at your skin. It is the beginning of Autumn and the weather doesn't quite seem to settle on being cold or warm from one day to the next. Along the street are numerous beggars with signs pleading desperately for help and for spare change. In your heart you feel that you should spare something. However you are barely able to afford to live yourself and-in this instance-you decide to be selfish and force your eyes to look past them and ignore their existence.
Soon, you come to the local shop and pull your scarf slightly down in order to avoid the sudden warmth of the place overwhelming you. A few people turn to look at you as you enter briefly before turning back to their papers or items. One woman nods at you knowingly, as you both seem to have met several times in this very place for the last three months, and hands you a paper with jobs listed on the page. You give her a brief, tired smile of thanks and turn your eyes to intensely study the jobs list and make a red mark around the ones you might have a slim chance of being hired at. The majority of them wouldn't start until a month later. You make a noise of irritation. You needed money now!
Then it catches your eye: Wanted! General Assistant for Circus. Required for 5 nights only. No previous experience or qualifications needed. No age limit. To start ASAP. $120.
Your eyes blink in disbelief. That amount would maybe buy some food for a few days. That was better than nothing. "Have you seen this?" You ask the woman, pointing to the job, "Why don't you try for it too?"
She returns a small laugh. "I don't think so. There's only me to look after my kids. I couldn't imagine being away from them for so long…and I don't entirely trust my neighbours to look after them." You look at her forty year old face and ponder the number of jobs she had previously done. Her scuffed and patched business suit suggested that she might have been a manager or maybe a high paid position. You also note the absence of her saying that a circus was below her. No one would say that these days.
Taking the paper to the counter to purchase it you glare at the thing behind the counter. A blank humanoid computer gives the usual "Hello there, good day. Thank you for shopping with us today." As it scans the barcode of the paper before indicating to the card reader with its jerky movements. You do as you are asked whilst angrily throwing profanities at it in your head. These things are the reason that nobody had a job these days. Companies were more interested in having an employee that never rested, never got sick and you never had to pay. They never considered how much it would damage other people's livelihoods and the government were slow to react to the rapidly growing unemployment rate.
As soon as the card is processed, you turn on your heel and leave before the robot even voices the "Thank you for your purchase" farewell.
Racing along the street with the paper in your hand, you find an empty bench and spread out the paper. After a quick check around, you pull out your phone and start the QR reader to apply to the other jobs that promised at least six months of work before looking back to the circus ad. Oddly, it does not hold a QR code like most job ads these days-only a telephone number. Hesitantly, you tap the numbers into your phone and press it to your ear. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Right at the moment where you start to consider hanging up a deep voice speaks at the other end. It startles you slightly-hearing a person and not an automated voice.
"Hello? You've reached Fazbear's Circus," It asks.
"Uh-H-Hi," You reply, nervously, "I'm in-interested in applying for your General…Assistant p-position."
"Why certainly do! We'd sure appreciate the help," The voice replies, sounding friendly, "I'll need your name first and then I can give you the address so you can head on over and start."
"Sure-um, do you mean today?"
"Of course, we're here for five nights and really need you for today-tomorrow at the latest."
"Oh, okay. I'll be on my way to get my things to stay for the week and shall be there as soon as I can."
"One more thing before you come over-you're not allowed to bring your mobiles, tablets or other communication devices with you."
This catches you by surprise. Everywhere allowed technology because it was already everywhere. "Why is that?" You ask suspiciously.
"Well we have some animatronics in the circus…if you bring a phone or whatever it might mess with their own wireless communication and ruin the show and make them act up." Replies the voice. "You wouldn't want to spoil the show for everyone, would you?"
"No, I guess not. That's fine. I'll make sure I leave everything at home." You agree reluctantly, wondering how on earth you'd survive that long without having information immediately at your fingertips.
"Splendid. Let me give you the address."
You give the man your name, your home address, the usual stuff necessary for applying for a job before stating that you'd be a couple of hours (the address was for somewhere that was out of town and you didn't own a car) before heading home.
Arriving back, you tell your parents that you're heading out to start a job tonight (you'd have no hope of affording to live on your own and this is the best you can do right now). Obviously, they are shocked and concerned-your mother especially since you're not allowed to take your phone-but eventually agree that it is better to have some money than nothing at all. Not to mention this is the first job you'll have had for a while.
The sky was beginning to darken as you set out with a full suit case and lots of hugs and kisses from your parents. Your father walks with you to the bus stop and makes you promise that you'd write once you got there before you climbed on board the robot-driven bus. You have no idea why the robots have to have a human-like face. It made them creepier somehow.
Houses, streets and cars whizz by as you absently stare out the window. It would take a while to reach your destination. A brief moment of panic sets into you as you question who on earth this Fazbear guy was. For all you know he could be a murderer or something. Well you did leave the address with your parents so they could come find you if you did not return. The thought makes you shudder and you push it out of your mind. You continue to look blankly out for what seems like hours when a sudden brightness catches your eyes and there, before you, is a bright sign that reads "Fazbear's Circus". You press hard for the bus to stop. Dragging your luggage off the bus, you head underneath the sign and approach the huge big top tent surrounded by smaller, white ones and decorated trailers. The path is dimly lit by lanterns and the mud makes it a pain to pull the suitcase until you give in and begin to carry it.
"Oh hello there!" A familiar deep voice calls and a rather large man approaches. He's tall, with a slightly rounded tummy and pale face, dark brown handlebar moustache, brown coattail jacket accompanied with black and a top hat that oddly sported brown bear ears. He shakes your hand with a smile. "You must be…uh…"
You remind him as nicely as you can of your name. 'The least he could do was remember it after hauling my ass this far out of town,' You think with an over compensating smile.
"I'm Frederick-the owner and Ringmaster here. Come, come, you can let me take your luggage to your tent. Then we'll go meet the rest of the gang." He says, taking your case from your hands and you follow uncertainly behind.
As the both of you walk, you take a look around, trying to remember landmarks that would help you find your way around in case you got lost. Then another thing catches your attention instead. There are no people around. The place is like a ghost town.
"Hey is everyone in bed already?" You ask, checking your watch. "It's only 8 O'Clock."
"Hm? Oh, nah, we're just a very small group you see," Frederick explained, "We had too many people coming and going so we ended up giving in and getting a few mechanical performers." He notices you wince. "Yeah I know…in today's society it seems like a cop out but you can only have so many people leave. The acts near died out because of it. Me and my remaining members are the only ones left. We only sought for a human assistant because it's easier than programming a robot to do multiple tasks like you'll be doing. Not to mention no wheels could run on this ground."
As you round a corner, you pause as something caught your attention momentarily. You could have sworn than there was someone stood in the shadows. You look again a chill runs through you as you realise that it's not just your mind playing tricks. A tall thin man was stood there motionless. You could barely make out any of his features but you think you can spot a hook glinting ever so slightly at the end of his right arm. Flinching, you turn and run-only to barge into Frederick-bouncing slightly off his chubby belly.
"Keep up, kid," He says with a sigh as his perfume hits your nose and almost makes you retch with the horrid scent, "You'll get lost if you don't pay attention."
"S-Sorry. I just saw someone in the shadows." You say and point feebly.
Frederick gives you a disbelieving glance before peering over at the shadow. After a few moments, he frowns, mouth hanging open slightly before he shouts loudly. "Hey, knock it off, you're scaring the newbie!"
A thin, pale man shuffles out of the shadows and glares over at Frederick with an irritated look. He mumbles something that you can't hear before looking down at you with hollow yellow eyes. Even from this distance he seems freakishly tall and chilling. A ragged ginger beard with dark brown stains covered the lower half of his face, hair divided by a long scar that ran over his right eye down to his cheek. His hair was a wild, half-matted mess which seemed as though it hadn't seen a comb nor scissors for several years. Nearly everything about this man seemed to be scarred, scratched or torn. As you peered down at his right arm, you notice that you were correct; he did indeed have a hook-and where his tattered linen trousers ended were two metallic legs. You frown slightly at the sight of it. Was he a robot? With a couple of odd twitches, the man muttered something again and moved to disappear behind the tents.
With a heavy sigh, the ring master apologises, "Sorry about him. He's pretty odd…uh, just make sure you're never alone with him. Not quite right in the head that guy."
You follow on with a concerned look, occasionally glancing over your shoulder in case he was still lingering behind. "Your first job can be to cook for the rest of the gang. There's only four of us, five now including yourself," The chubby man in front of you explained, scratching at his moustache slightly, "Lucky for you since it won't be too much to cook. The kitchen and food supplies are in the trailer with the yellow chicken holding the cupcake. Just take out whatever you can cook well enough-we're not too picky about what we eat. Then obviously you have to clean all that up and then pretty much that's it for your first night. You'll start real work tomorrow."
All you manage to do is nod your head as you stumble over guy-ropes and unseen stones on the ground.
"Here we are!" Frederick says cheerily, unzipping the tent door and placing your muddied suitcase just inside it, "I'll just let you have a few minutes to familiarise yourself with your home for the next few days before you get to work." As he turns to leave, the ringmaster pauses with an "Ah."
"Just so you're well aware," He says turning back to you, "We have a strict curfew of 11pm around here. No getting up before 6am."
"Uh…why?" You ask uncertainly.
"We're performers and have to get enough rest to do our jobs. Have you ever tried to breathe fire or do mid-air acrobatics while half tired? Just one mistake could cost someone their life." The man says with a serious face. "But, for now, just get to work as soon as you can."