DECEMBER 1988
Hello, me hearties, and welcome t' Pirate Cove! My name be Foxy, and I'm yer new Cap'n. So sit tight, grab yer swords, and get ready fer the ride o' yer life...
The voice drifted from behind the curtain at 2 AM. The voice was gargled somehow, murmured. James Smith, the guard on duty, was wary of him- his programming must have had some error, with the sensors. He would see children where there were none, and tell his pirate stories. This creeped Smith out- the idea there were children hiding behind those unfathomable curtains. He couldn't stare too long, because good old Bonnie the Bunny would keep his attention away from Pirate Cove. This was the second night for Smith. He had made a tough decision after the first night, and decided return was the only way. He needed the money for little Rob. There were no jobs available, so no matter how pitiful the pay, all he had to do was sit on his ass for 6 hours and look at some screens. It was a dangerous job, but someone had to do it. When Chica, Bonnie, or Mr. Fazbear himself came a-knocking, he would shut the door and think of Rob. Rob, with his sweet little face, in his little onesie who would seem genuinely delighted to see him when he came home in the mornings. He was starting school next year and funds were running direly low- $120 for six hours of doing pretty much what he'd be doing already but with 90% more killer bunny didn't seem unattractive, as a placeholder before he could find a real job. Smith checked a camera- 2B, this time. When he turned back to Pirate Cove, he was only slightly surprised to see the eyes peeking out from the curtain. Weirdly, though, once he looked at the camera they seemed to... recede, slightly? Yes, definitely now- the eyes were shrinking into the curtain again. He looked closer, and found Foxy making the strangest gesture. His head rocked up and down, slowly. Smith stood, ready to move towards the cove. His senses got the better of him, eventually. He would be fired for leaving his post, if he wasn't apprehended by a Friend. He sat, ready to continue with his night. He checked the show stage- Ole' Freddy was standing at attention, frozen in an eerie mock-up of the day's show. Chica was eating in the kitchen. Her bib seemed to be accurate, then, Smith noticed. Bonnie was backstage, probably just waiting like he did sometimes. All was in order, meaning he could check Pirate's Cove once more.
Foxy was out of his curtain, ready to leave the room. He had seemed too jumpy that day, paranoid. Something was definitely amiss with the fox in Pirate's Cove. He watched the fox retreat into his curtain, slowly and carefully. The look on the fox's face wasn't one of menace or hate, but one of... concern? Maybe it was the broken jaw, or the lack of maintenance since the bite, but his face seemed to show more emotion than the others. He was so engrossed in his thoughts of the Fox's face, he didn't even notice the bright yellow chick making it's way into his office. Until he put down the camera, that is. The chick screamed, and James screamed back,k before she outstretched her arms towards him, pulling him into a deathly bear hug. He was trying to resist, but what better than Bonnie to put an end to his attempts. The two animals dragged him away backstage, where Bonnie had been just minutes before. They prised open a Freddy Fazbear suit, and hauled Smith's quivering body into it. A final scream escaped him as his back, arms and legs were pierced and crushed by pure unrelenting steel cross braces. The front was swung shut with a creak of hinges, turning his still-breathing body into little more than a sludgy pile of skin, guts and excrement. He felt his eyes becoming loose as the rest of his face was crushed against the back of the suit with the crunching of bone and the final snap of hinges meaning the suit was locked firmly shut. He couldn't even scream as he died, his jaws were mulch along with most of his body, and his teeth were forcibly ejected from their peaceful standing point. What came out was more of a moan, before even that was stopped by a metal beam, crushing his throat. His heart was pierced by a worryingly well placed beam. His last gasps for air were pointless- the metal beam inside of his throat blocked out any breathing that may have happened. Despite this, his death was not due to the crushing of the throat but severe brain damage- damage here meaning being smeared across the back of a grinning bear. Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, kids, where the only thing better than the pizza is the cuddly friends who'll stay in your heart forever.
