My name is Mike Schmidt, and I am still here.
It was Night Four. After listening to Phone Guy's last recording, I was checking the lights near my office like any normal night. And then I remembered him. The foxlike, eye patch-wearing, pizza-eating, broken-down piece of garbage that passed for a children's entertainer nowadays.
I pulled up my monitor to check on Pirate's Cove, where the Out-of-order sign stood in front of a purple curtain decorated with silver stars that curled around his stage. He was peeking out ever so slightly, as if testing the waters to see there were no sharks.
I breathed a sigh of relief and checked the Show Stage camera. After checking the cameras and the lights a few more times and making sure none of the things had made any moves towards me, I fell asleep with both doors wide open at 3 A.M. Three strikes. Strike one, Bonnie is at my door. Strike two, both doors are open. Strike three, and Foxy bites my frontal lobe out.
I woke with a start at 5 A.M. with Chica at my door. I quickly closed the door and searched the halls for Bonnie. Thanks to the fast reflexes I had developed over the past three nights, I located him relatively quick in the Backstage area, staring at the camera. It then stuck me over the head like a mallet as I realized I had forgotten Foxy. I switched to his camera. The curtain was completely open. The sign that usually said "Sorry! Out of Order!" was flipped around and said "It's ME!".
I got to the West Hall camera, and it displayed Foxy running down the hall. I closed the door and heard him banging on the door. I stole a quick look at the power monitor. It went down from 50%, to 49%, to 46%, and then to 35%. The banging stopped suddenly.
I opened the door and poked my head out. I felt a chill up my spine, as if the air conditioning was blowing down the back of my shirt, even though there wasn't any air conditioning in this horrid place.
I turned to look in the back corner and saw something horrifying.
Foxy was standing there!
He had a sort of smile on his face, as if saying, "Hey, don't look at me pal! YOU'RE the one who forgot to check my camera."
I slowly pulled my head back into my office and closed the door. After a while, I decided it was safe to open the door. A few minutes, later, Foxy's endoskeleton hand pulled down my monitor.
"Arrg, matey! Time walk the plank," he yelled as he grabbed me by the arm and started to drag me. I knew where he was taking me.
The Backstage area, where the other animatronics were waiting to make me one of them.
When we arrived, Foxy lifted me with ease and put me on the table. Freddy and Bonnie held down my legs and arms, while Chica held down my head. Foxy picked up a Freddy leg and shoved it onto mine. The old animatronic then repeated the same with my other leg.
After a while, all that was left to put on was the head. The costume had become a blood-stained and gory mess of my guts and the pizza stains on the costume.
Darkness consumed my mind before the head was lowered.
That was twenty years ago.
The place has changed, of course. A few nights after the whole suit stuffing incident, my body was discovered. My parents sued the living crap out of Fazbear Entertainment, saying they should have searched the place from top to bottom after I wasn't seen exiting the building and that they should have told me the risks of working at that place. It was followed by the media closely.
They even found me in the Backstage area and bought the suit and all its goriness in to be examined. Blood samples were taken. It matched up to what they had on record for me. Fazbear Entertainment lost millions, in both the settlement and court fees. A year later, they filed bankruptcy and closed down. The company was eventually bought and reopened. I was still in the area when they rebuilt it into the new Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. They tried to refurbish the old animatronics to make them more child-friendly. It proved too expensive, and they made new animatronics out of new parts bought from various companies and old parts from the animatronics that they put into the old security office, which in the Employees Only room.
When I was a kid, I had many problems. One was a stuffed golden bear. He often wore a purple hat and tie. I always was imagining it would talk to me and say things like "We are still your friends" and "You are broken. I will fix you". That thing scared me. My mom said it was just an overactive imagination. My psychologist said it was insanity.
But I proved the bear wrong.
The suit I had been stuffed into was destroyed, even though my spirit still lingered. The Toy animatronics, if possible, were even stupider than their predecessors. Freddy was even fatter than his counterpart, Bonnie looked like a girl due to the eyelashes, Chica looked like a prostitute, and Toy Foxy became known as The Mangle due to the toddlers pulling her apart every time she was put back together. The employees just got tired of putting her back together. I, being a spirit, possessed the thing that was known as Toy Freddy. I found out many things about the restaurant. I saw through their eyes. I knew what it was like to be trapped in the suit. To want to be free. But I wasn't.
I didn't need the bear. I fixed myself.
My name is Mike Schmidt, and I am still here.