It was supposed to be just another day at work for Mike Schmidt. Then again, another day at work ment fighting for his life as four (or maybe five, he was never really sure about that last one) animatronics hunted him down in a kids pizzeria. Maybe a whole month of doing it kind of numbs the brain to the whole "life threatening robots" concept. In any case, things did not go as planned that night.
It was about 3 AM according to the clock. It actually felt like hours had passed since his clock ticked to 3 AM but the device refused to change. "I should really get a watch someday," Mike thought aloud. He knew they could hear him. They heard him rocking out to Queen last week and they did nothing different that day. They probably didn't care about what they heard. They were just robots after all.
In a moment of boredom, Mike decided to replay the Phone Guy messages for the fifth time. They were the only thing to listen to when he didn't bring his home radio, other than the once ominous grunts of the murderous technology after him. The same speech played again. "Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night..." The same old lines. The same old song.
Mike checked Pirate Cove again. Foxy was gone. Uh oh. Mike scrambled over to the left door and mashed his hand against the door button. The blast doors slammed shut right before the pirate could enter the room. The fox banged on the doors for a while, before returning back to his den. Relieved, Mike checked the power and saw that the fox had (like always) shaved off a few percents of his power. Luckily, it was a slower night, so he could probably leave the door closed at least for a few more minutes. At least until that damn bunny stopped skulking around.
The time ticked 4 AM. "Finally," Mike said to himself. He was already halfway down in power, so this was a relief. Unfortunately, Chica had decided to come creeping back towards his office. He tapped the light button and the chicken gazed at him, mouth agape. Mike shut the door. "Don't look so startled. This happens every time you come around" he said. Without any human contact for the 6 hours, Mike often babbled to the animatronics when bored. "By the way, are you a chicken or a duck? I know the commercials say chicken, but you seriously have a duck like demeanor coming off of you." Mike tapped the light again. The bird was gone. "Huh," Mike shrugged. "Guess it's a touchy subject."
Suddenly, the radio started emitting static. Not the normal garbled black speech that came on the fifth night he was there, but genuine static noise. MIke twisted the nobs until he heard someone who was, strangely enough, not Phone Guy. "I'm telling you it's never gonna work," said a low, rusted voice. "Please, if I can work with possesed animatronics, I can work with this," came another more feminine voice. Possesed? "That explains so much more than it should," Mike thought. "Hello?" the woman's voice called. "Is anyone there?" "I'm telling you, this isn't going to work." "If you can hear us, please talk back into the radio!" In a fit of boredom, Mike decided to respond. "Uh, yeah, loud and clear, whoever you are."
"What," said the deeper voice. "Yes!" the lighter one shouted. "Oh my god, that worked! Okay, uh, hi! My name is Kyra and my buddy here's named... named..." "Micheal," said the lower voiced one. "Funny," said Mike. "My name's Micheal, too." "Uh..." said Kyra, nervously. "What's your last name?" "Schmidt. Why?" "Okay, good, I almost thought we were about to encounter a time paradox." "How tragic" the other Mike said. "How about for sanity's sake we call me Springtrap." "That sounds like a made up name," noted Mike. "It is." the two radio callers said simultaneously. "Spending decades inside a robot bunny suit will do that to you," Springtrap said. "What," said Mike
"Look, it's a very long and complicated story about child murder and ghostly shenanigans that I don't really feel like discussing at this very moment." "Huh," said Mike. A ghastly chuckled alerted Mike that, yes, he was still at work, and yes, all of those animatronics are still on the move, including Freddy, who has been fairly pleasant that night. "Shit!" Mike exclaimed as he franticly grabbed the screen. Foxy was still in the cove. Good. Then a light grumble entered his ears. "Uh, Mike," said Kyra. "Is there someone else in the room with you?" Mike, completely terrified, turned his head to see the unwavering glare of Bonnie the Bunny. He sighed and said. "Good game, Fazbear. Good game." Then Bonnie screamed at the top of his lungs right in his face.
"Good god you guys have awful breath," said Mike as he was dragged by the large purple robot. "Seriously, Bonnie, you should invest in some breath mints." The massive rabbit stopped and glared at the guard. "What? You won. Let me at least have some last words." Bonnie turned his head to Freddy and made a weird grunt in the bear's direction. "Oh are you gonna let the leader handle me? I'm honored," Mike snarked. The rabbit made another snarl and chucked Mike in Freddy's general direction. "Oof... Glad to see I'm valuable." Freddy picked him up and brought him into the maintenence room. Mike was settled on the table while Freddy went to pick up some pieces of his new exoskeleton.
"So am I ever gonna know why you guys do this?" Mike asked the bear, not really expecting an answer. Freddy turned his head to his direction confusedly, apparently understanding the question. "Like, am I an endoskeleton to you guys, or is this just a part of some master plot for you surprisingly cartoonish murderers?" Freddy made a surprisingly somber grumble and wen back to comparing Mike's head to the various masks in the room. "The little voice on the radio mentioned child murder and ghostly shenanigans. You know anything about that?" Freddy dropped the head and looked at the night guard in utter shock. "I'll take that as a yes," said Mike. "Since you can't really speak, I'll just make a little interviewing system. Light screech means yes, low grumble means no, got it?" Freddy made a shrill noise. "Nice."
"Is there a ghost in there?" "Eeeeeeerrr..." "Alright. Can you get out whenever you want? Like if you needed to take a ghost piss, and you didn't want to do it in the the suit?" Freddy facepalmed and made a deep growl. "Jeez, no wonder those suits stink. Wait, do ghosts need to piss?" "Grrrraaaaaahh." "Oh. So they stink for a different reason." "Screeeee." "I'm getting off track. So have you murdered a kid?" "Graaaaaaaah!" "Okay, that's a no... Is the ghost in there a kid?" "...Eeeee..." "Jesus, kid, I'm sorry. Do you know who murdered you?" "Grrrrrrmm..." "Are you guys looking for him?" "Eee." "Wait, was he a guard like me?" "Scrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" "Ow! Shit! You guys can be really loud when you want to... So let me sum it up. You guys are looking for you murderer, who is a security guard, and you are stuck in these bodies until then." "Screee." "Alright. That makes the attempted murder a little more understandable. Can I, uh, head back to the office? Oh, and can you tell your buddies I'm not the guy?" "Eee." "Thank you. Y'know a few minutes ago I thought you were gonna murder me." Freddy shrugged.
Freddy exited the room and made a loud growl, so that they could all hear. Foxy leaned out from his cove. Chica exited the kitchen. Bonnie looked up from his fake guitar, which he was apparently attempting to tune. Freddy made a light combination of screeches and growls. The news was apparently big, because everyone's eyes seemed to widen, if that was even possible for them. Mike slowly exited the room, in case the others still wanted to murder him. Mike quietly crept back to his office until a thought struck him. "Freddy?" The bear looked at him, expectantly. "Is there a fifth one of you guys?" The four of them seemed to suddenly look a lot more sad than was thought possible for animatronics. "Oh. I... guess it was more a 'was', then." Freddy nodded slowly. "Well I'm gonna check in with the people on the radio. I'm on a murderer hunt." The others' expressions suddenly brightened and then immediately turned to Freddy, who also had no clue where that came from.
"Hey, I'm back" "Oh my god! We thought you were dead!" Kyra yelled from the radio. "Turns out ghostly children are pretty easy to reason with if you talk to them about it." "Why didn't I try that..." Springtrap mumbled to himself. "Anyways, tomorrow is a Saturday, so I'm gonna see if I can find the guy who murdered the rugrats in these overly large robots." "We can help," said Springtrap. "We're from about thirty years in the future, at your point in time." "You know," said Mike. "I would question that, but I just had a one sided conversation with a murderous ghost infant inside of a large animatronic bear, so I'm not too concerned about things like 'sense' right now."
"I'm gonna give a bit of an information dump right now," explained Springtrap. "So try not to fall asleep. Before I was Springtrap, I was Micheal Afton, son of William Afton, co-creator of the Freddy Fazbear franchise. My dad used the franchise as a means to kill children, until the death of his youngest son at the hands, or rather, teeth of Fredbear, mascot of Fredbear's Family Diner. He then seperated from the place and made a place called Circus Baby's Pizza World. This was also a child murder plot, until an accident caused the death of his only daughter. He then started working after hours there in an attempt to find a way to revive her, and if possible, his son. He should be there right now, in fact, if you are in 1993. You are there, right?"
"Good god you talk alot for someone who shouldn't have lungs." said Mike. "Yeah, that was really a bit too much information, Spring." said Kyra. "Fine, don't find the murderer. See if I care." grumbled Springtrap. The clanging from the radio probably ment that Springtrap had walked away from the radio. "Don't mind him. He's just bitter at his dad." Kyra apologized. "S'fine. Is there anything I need to know about Circus Baby's Pizza World before I go in there?" "Yeah, there's a really good ally that could save you from death in there." "Alright. Where is he?" "He's at an older Freddy location." "God damnit. Of course he is. Is he gonna try to murder me too?" "Um, it's an it and probably." "Seems I'm gonna be visiting two buildings full of dangerous animatronics." "You know, you don't have to do this." "I kind of do. First of all, I told those spectral squirts I'd do it and I hate going back on my word. Second, if I do, these guys are just gonna keep killing people, and that can't happen. Thirdly, I don't really want to have a crazy murderer that I could've stopped, but didn't on my conscience." "That's... a lot of good reasons actually." "Plus, they'd probably try to murder me if I didn't try." "That's true. Ghosts are fickle like that." "Yeah... oh, right. Tell Springs I'd like to thank him for telling me about the children." "No problem."
Mike checked the clock. 5 AM. This had certainly been an interesting night. Mike decided to let the bots know about his plans. "Hey guys," said Mike. All the animatronics turned to him, not thinking he'd come out again. " I won't be here for a couple of days. I just got info on where the murderer is." Everyone perked up. "Please try not to murder anyone who comes around." Bonnie glared at him. "Oh. Uh, sorry about the breathmint comment." Bonnie did the closest thing he could to a sigh and continued to tune his prop guitar. "Alright then. See you on Monday."
The next two days were just about as chaotic as this one.