Night 3
4:30am
He had to pee.
And it wasn't the I-have-a-tingle-but-I-can-hold-it type of need. It was the busting sort of need. Mike knew he would rather smoke crack than leave the (not really) safe confines of the security room, but even if that were a possibility, doing drugs would not directly empty his bladder. If there was a bottle or container that he could pee into he would have taken this avenue a while ago. However, the only form of container in the room was a pizza box, and while it may offer temporary relief, he really did not want to think about the consequential smell that would occur after it permeated the cardboard.
His only option left was to wander to the other side of the restaurant and use the restrooms there. Even thinking about leaving the security room was a horrifying concept that made his heart race and his blood pressure rise. Do the animatronics smell fear? Dear God, he hoped not. If so, he would be doomed straight away.
He stood up from his chair experimentally. And waited. No noises. Flicking the hallway lights on showed there to be no one out there. A quick sweep of the security cameras indicated that the characters were in their proper spots, and unmoving. He decided it was now or never.
He stiffly moved out of the doorway and kept his back against the wall, palms against the cool concrete. He side stepped down the hallway and peered into each doorway to check before proceeding.
Suddenly, the sound of deep chuckling across the restaurant broke the silence. Freddy's chuckling. Mike froze in fear, his body locked into place. A small part of him was surprised he didn't pee himself right then and there. It continued and while the noise didn't seem to be getting any closer, Mike wasn't taking any chances. In a rush of adrenaline, he sprinted the remaining distance to the restrooms. He bolted the door to the restroom and threw himself into a cubicle, sliding the latch to lock that door too. He leant against the walls of the stall to catch his breath, pulse thrumming in his ears.
After he did his business, he left the restroom feeling more relieved than he had ever felt before. It was nearing 5am; just over an hour left to go. He didn't let himself get over confident. He crept back as quietly as he did on the way there. Just before he reached the sanctuary of the security room, he heard a snap behind him, like the breaking of a bone. His head whirled around, but he was met with nothing.
Wait.
Not nothing. It was something. Two small black orbs, the light from the security room reflecting off them. They were close enough together to be… eyes. A lump formed in Mike's throat, and he could feel himself moving backwards, toward the security room. Panic flooded his mind, and once he was in the room, he punched the button to close the right door. After a moment he went to sit back down in the chair.
He had made it to and from the restroom, safe and sound. A little shaken, yes, but alive.
He should feel more relieved. But he didn't. He couldn't shake the feeling there was something wrong. He didn't mean to feel this way - it was involuntary. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His fingers gripped the arm rests of the chair tightly. Every nerve was screaming at him to run. God, when would it be 6am?
He moved over and grabbed the monitor, checking all the rooms. He accounted for Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy. All except Freddy.
As he put down the monitor, he realised a second too late what was wrong.
Freddy was in the room with him.
His tongue was so thick in his mouth that he couldn't even muster a scream as Freddy attacked him, his mechanical face, expressionless as it always was.
6am
The morning shift worker at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was a pimply faced 19 year old college dropout who needed money to pay the rent to live in his mother's basement. He was your stereotypical fast food worker. As he arrived at the entrance doors to the pizza place, he dug around in his pockets for the keys. After unlocking them, he pulled them open to be confronted with the smell. Night shift guy was notorious for being slightly foul smelling, but he was supposed to meet the morning shift worker at the door. But he wasn't here and it smelt like death. The teen ventured further into the restaurant.
He entered the security room to see the monitor offline. That was nothing strange. The restaurant was known for its embarrassingly low budget. But what was strange was the smear of fresh blood across the floor, and out the door. You didn't need to be a forensic investigator to know the blood had been spilt in the last few hours. It was still a deep crimson, shiny and smelling of metal.
He wasn't sure why he did it, but he followed the trail. It was inconsistent, sometimes only being a thin slick, and other times being almost a puddle of blood. Could someone live having lost that much blood? He wasn't hopeful, but he knew that whoever had bled might still be alive. But when he began to see chunks and nuggets of flesh dotting the trail, his optimism vanished. The teen retched but continued.
The trail led into the backstage, where all spare animatronic parts and costumes were stored. He swallowed his bile and entered.
Even with the ceiling light on, the corners of the room were too dark to see. Luckily, his phone had a flashlight.
It was in one of the back corners where he made the discovery.
A nonoperational animatronic lay face down on the ground in a pool of blood, it's back open. Among the wires, crossbeams, and animatronic devices, was the mangled, broken body of the night guard.
Hey guys! That was my first FNAF Fanfiction so I hope you like it. Please review :)