A/N: Thanks for clicking and reading!
I got into the Freddy Fazbear craze a few weeks ago and I had to write something.
Okay, I came up with this idea before I knew about the fifth night and I still thought that FNAF 2 was a sequel. So I'm taking a few liberties with the canon. Trust me, I love the idea of FNAF 2 being a prequel. But this is fanfiction. So I'm taking it in a different direction.
Firstly, this takes place a few years after the first game. I'm making it a sequel, not a prequel. Basically everything before the sixth night and the date on the check is canon.
Secondly, I'm changing all of the phone calls and having it be Mike that leaves the messages. Because I love Mike's sarcasm and the storyline depends on it. That's why I have Phone Guy listed as a character. But he's not here. Only Mike.
More things will probably pop up along the way. I'll put them down as they come.
Disclaimer: Haibanashi does not own Five Night's at Freddy's or any of its characters (that would be Scott Cawthon). Haibanashi makes no profit off of this story.
Warnings: There is quite a bit of swearing/cursing. Also some gore.
Let's go!
Jeremy didn't know how or why. He just was.
"Shit shit shit!" He screeched (very manly-like, mind you) as he spotted the older, mangled version of Bonnie creeping through the vents on the camera. He immediately switched to camera eleven, cranked up the music box, checked for the older Foxy in the main hall with his flashlight (he wasn't there, thank god), and crammed on the Freddy Fazbear head.
He didn't move a muscle.
What was the time what was the time? Jeremy's mind repeated the mantra like a broken record, his breath resonating in the hallowed costume and hands growing clammy. Everything was such utter chaos that he hardly had an opportunity to look; the last time he had checked the clock it had read out 3 am. He had no way to check the time inside the head but he'd be damned if he took it off now.
The lights flickered. He could see Bonnie through the empty eye slots. He stopped breathing as his heart rate skyrocketed.
The lights finally cut off before slowly shining back to life. Jeremy waited a few more seconds before pulling off the head.
He frantically checked the air vents and the hallway with the lights. Finding nothing, he started to scroll through the camera feed.
The Mangle had left Kid's Cove and Balloon Boy couldn't be found in his usual place.
"Fuck me," Jeremy hissed. Why had he taken up this goddamn job in the first place? Oh, right, he wanted to get a job over spring break so he could feel like a responsible and independent adult and it sounded so fun to work at a place made to entertain children.
This. This was not anywhere near fun. Blind terror was far more accurate.
"They don't ever tell you these things in the job descriptions, the assholes." Jeremy found himself agreeing with part of the first recording for the umpteenth time since he had been on duty.
He switched over to wind up the music box again, spotting The Mangle hanging from the ceiling in the Prize Room. Why couldn't they just play a radio or something? He had seen pictures of the Marionette and he did not want to know what that creepy looking thing would do to him if it started to come after him.
"How the fuck is this a place for kids?" Jeremy forced the words through gritted teeth. He had some time before The Mangle showed up, so all he had to do was find —
"Hi."
Well, that solved that problem.
Jeremy smashed his hand on the light for the left air vent. Nothing. Okay, Balloon Boy was still in the vent. He still had time. He still had time.
He reached for the flashlight and checked the main hallway. Glowing yellow eyes stared back.
"Foxy you can go die," Jeremy snarled as he flashed the light. If it weren't for Foxy and the Marionette he could have just sat there in the mask and been just fine. But no, Foxy had to be glitchy and the Marionette… Jeremy had no idea what was wrong with it and he didn't want to know.
Once he couldn't see anything in the hall, Jeremy checked the lights again. Nothing on the right side. And on the left —
It was Balloon Boy.
Jeremy shoved the head back on.
All he had to do was wait. It would go away. Eventually.
Wait, was the music box wound up enough? Had Foxy come back? Shit, he was so screwed. He was dead. Totally —
Ding dong. Ding dong.
"Fucking yes!" Jeremy screamed. Six in the morning. He was safe. "Thank god!"
He pried off the stuffy mask and placed it on the desk in front of him. Night three was over. Finally.
Jeremy groaned before slumping down and placing his head on the desk. Night one had been scary because seriously? Who the hell wouldn't be ready to shit their pants when they were told that creepy robots were out for their blood? And night two had gotten harder, the dismembered animatronics making their presence known. And then Balloon Boy, who Jeremy hadn't even realized was a robot too, had shown up in the vents and wouldn't go away.
Night three had felt like a nightmare. Everyone was moving around and Jeremy couldn't stop moving for even one second or else he'd miss something. And missing anything would be bad.
On shaky legs, Jeremy stood up from the seat and started to walk towards the exit of the restaurant. He probably would have been dead by now if it weren't for the messages left on the recorder. Most of them were spoken in a flippant and sarcastic tone, criticizing the management and telling him not to be stupid. But he (and Jeremy was assuming whoever left them were a guy based on the voice) would always be sure to say what to watch out for and ways to not get killed. And Jeremy thanked any deity that was listening that Phone Guy (it catchy in his head, alright?) was awesome enough to give advice.
Jeremy reached the front doors and pushed one of them open. The sun was peeking over the horizon, people only just starting to get ready for the day ahead. He didn't know why he kept coming back to this hellhole, really. Maybe it was some twisted sense of pride that refused to let him back down. Maybe it was the knowledge that if he left, someone new who wouldn't know what to do would have to fill his place. Maybe it was because he didn't want to try to explain to his parents why he had quit before the five nights were up. Whatever it was, Jeremy sincerely hoped Phone Guy would prep him for it.
"Just flash your light at Foxy if he shows up in the hall. I don't know if the brightness disorients him or if he just wants to have a small rave party, but he'll go away if you do."
Jeremy quirked a small smile as he remembered the advice from night two as he walked through the awakening world. The humor was an odd mix of morbid and mockery that always gave the night guard nervous chuckles. It really shouldn't have been as amusing as it was.
"If you didn't notice the older versions in the Parts Room last night, you may as well just strut out of the office right now because you won't survive if you don't keep tabs on everything. Management says that they're completely deactivated since they're only used for spare parts. It's complete bullshit. They'll start to come after you along with everything else. If you see them, put on the mask immediately or you're just as likely to live as you would be if you hadn't noticed them in the first place."
"Keep the music box on cam eleven wound up as often as you can. Yeah, it may seem stupid to you to crank it but you don't want the Marionette coming out for you because it can't listen to its shitty music. Unless you have a death wish. Not winding it up would be the same as suicide. Not really the best way to go in my opinion, though."
"So, it's your first night? Welp, I should probably tell you that the animatronics are going to try to kill you. You think I'm joking? Then completely disregard this message. But trust me, I don't think that the janitors will appreciate having to clean up the gore left in the 'empty' Freddy suit. Blood is a pain to clean out of the floors."
Jeremy would admit that the introductory message had chilled him a little with its casually delivered morbidity, but it had brought about the desired effect; Jeremy had listen to the recording all the way through and taken the advice to heart. Especially when the current version of Bonnie had shown up in the party room holding a guitar.
Jeremy padded up the driveway of his house and then onto the path that led up to the front door. Yawning, he pulled out a silver key and slid it into the lock and turned it. He swung the door open once he heard the click and yanked the key out, closing and locking it behind him.
"Hey there Jeremy," the teen's dad greeted him with a smile. "I was just heading out. How was work?"
"Oh, the usual," Jeremy grumbled, leaving out the whole animatronics were trying to kill him part. "I'm tired."
"Then get some sleep, sport. I'll be back a bit late tonight. A few interns are coming in to get some first hand experience on being a doctor."
"'kay," Jeremy mumbled as he began to all but stumble up the stairs. There were all sorts of horror stories about the work load of the medical field but nothing would ever touch his job, that much Jeremy was sure of.
At last, the teen reached his room and plopped onto his bed, lacking any semblance of grace whatsoever. Unsurprisingly, staying up the entire night and panicking at every moment was quite draining on people.
Jeremy succumbed to the dark world of unconsciousness, too exhausted for even the faintest of nightmares and dreams to haunt his sleep.
A/N: Okay, first thing's first. I'll be talking about Jeremy's characterization. A friend of mine and myself have spent way too much time on this.
Jeremy is a critical thinker but only when he wants to be. Reasoning being that if you have any hopes of not dying, you need to be able to pick up patterns. But unlike the first game, FNAF 2 has more of a sense of predictability. Yes, everything is happening at once but the animatronics keep to the same paths and strategies. In the first game, you constantly need to look out because the bots are constantly changing their patterns to screw you over. So yes, Jeremy needs to be a critical thinker but not at all times.
Jeremy has to have ridiculously good reflexes. If you don't get that mask on the moment you see something in the room you're dead. That's that. Because of this and the recognition of patterns required, we agreed that Jeremy would probably be on some type of sports team. For whatever reason, we thought football.
Going on the reflex part, we thought Jeremy would be a little… spastic. Maybe ADHD or fidgety are better words for it.
And we both thought Jeremy would be less cynical than Mike. This is partly because we didn't want a clone of Mike and partly because of the earlier football player stereotype and spastics. So we pictured him to be a bit kinder. Not your typical golden boy or anything, but almost approaching it. And along with the ADHD came a possible happy-go-lucky nature. But that'd probably be a bit dulled down seeing as he wouldn't last with an attitude of pure optimism.
Like I said up top, I came up with this story idea before I knew that the second game was a prequel, not a sequel. So when we saw that the check was only for $100.50, we immediately concluded that Jeremy was probably doing this for the experience of getting a job, a desire that a lot of teens seem to have (because of this, we assumed he still lived at home, probably seventeen years old). Plus, with the morbid history of the place, I doubt anyone would work there for such low pay. Accordingly, we decided that Jeremy was probably from a high middle class family. And further on, we decided that it worked because Jeremy wouldn't have the concept of needing to conserve power. So yeah, he's not poor.
Due to all of these things, we thought Jeremy would be a bit broader and taller than make. And for whatever reason we both thought he had blond hair. Don't know why.
Anyway, I just wanted to get this out there before the fandom came up with a widely accepted canon, thus making mine irrelevant.
This is short, but the next chapter will be longer.
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EDIT: Just corrected a few typos.