October 22, 1996
. . .
"Ashes to ashes... dust to dust..."
It was rather obvious that Mike happened to pass by his sister's room at the wrong time. But he couldn't help but feel intrigued on what she was doing.
"Bring forth the spirit of Lucifer to assure those who are untrustworthy are punished... Bring forth a punishment worse than death... As the wax of man burns the memories of the past... Spirit of Lucifer make them in my grasp!"
Mike tried to get a better peek at what Marianna was doing through the crack in her door. The only thing he could catch sight of was a thick black candle that had been burning for awhile as Marianna held it above something so the melted wax dripped off. For all he knew though, she was simply dripping the hot wax onto the floor for no other purpose than to get into trouble.
"Oh, candle as black as night; oh, spirit of Lucifer in the pits of hell- take the souls of the ones I desire into this weapon of might... When I set their souls free where I please, let them roam for time to tease!"
Then, Mike could just barely see Marianna lift the candle to her face in a position so she could blow the candle out with one precise and quick blow.
"So mote it be." she whispered before blowing the flame out in a fashion that sent a shiver up Mike's spine.
. . .
How relieved Mike was to see his sister at the end of his first night could barely be described in words. Marianna was driving the not-so-old 1992 Ford Taurus that their parents had left behind for them. She had the radio playing a song by George Michael and Aretha Franklin as loud as the property for Freddy Fazbear's allowed for drop-off visitors. She looked as sour and unhappy as usual, but it didn't break Mike's spirit.
"Oh goody, you're alive." Marianna stated in disinterest as Mike got into the Taurus. Mike turned to look at his sister.
"Is Wednesday in there?" he asked with a smile, tapping his knuckles on her forehead lightly. This made Marianna smirk a bit.
"Christina Ricci can kiss my ass."
Mike smiled at his sister as she put the car in drive. As the Ford sped away from the family pizza joint, George Michael and Aretha Franklin started to fade out with words that Mike hoped that he and Marianna could relate to in some way.
When the mountain was high, I still believed.
When the valley was low, you know it couldn't stop me, no!
I knew you were waiting,
I knew you were waiting for me!
The rest of the car ride home was silent. Mike found that his words only escaped him because of the sudden realization that what the dude on the phone had said was true. The animatronics were alive. But... they didn't exactly prove themselves to be a threat yet. Have they...?
Many times Mike just looked over at his sister for no real reason other than to stare at her. When she drove, she sat upright and became hardcore focused. She still looked rather lovely in his opinion. The Schmidt family had a rather infamous set of age defying genetics- Marianna could have passed as being nineteen years old while Mike himself could have gotten away with being twenty-one. It was their personalities, however, that made others question their ages and birth order. Marianna's rather... antagonistic view of the world and well knowledge of things most didn't want to think about made some people assume that she was the oldest- compared to Mike's rather childish approach to the world, it would not have been that surprising to assume such a thing.
Then again, the same event in their lives changed a lot about them in as little as an hour.
Marianna guided the Taurus toward the trailer park where their house was and stopped at the curb to let Mike out.
"I have a split shift today," she told him as he got out of the car, "I'll be back in about four hours to check in on you. Don't do anything dumb. You might have the memory of a goldfish, but I still care... to a certain degree. You hear me Mike?"
Mike gave his sister a thumbs up as the DJ on the radio started to play Missionary Man by Eurythmics.
"I hear." he affirmed. Marianna didn't look as assured but said nothing before Mike shut the car door. As Marianna sped away, Mike waved back at her until he could no longer see her then went inside their little home.
At the death of their parents, Mike and Marianna could not afford the five room, two and a half bathroom home that they had grown up in. They had to downsize to only two rooms with a shared bathroom. The living home was also the dining room, and the only thing that distinguished the kitchen as such was the change to tile for the area that held the counters, stove, sink, and refrigerator.
Mike made a beeline for his room and almost fell on his bed from exhaustion he wasn't even aware he had. He went to sleep fairly easy, but that didn't mean he slept easily.
"Mom, Dad," Marianna said with an almost proud tone in her voice, "This is Mort, the guy I was telling you about."
It's me.
Mike could easily remember how relieved his parents looked to finally see the boy that Marianna had been talking about for so long. In all due honesty, they were simply grateful that the boy she was talking about looked and acted rather respectable.
It's me.
"It's nice to finally meet you Mr and Mrs Schmidt." Mort said respectively, taking the initiative to offer a handshake to Mike's father. The fifty year old man looked at Mort's hand as if the boy had magically conjured it to look like a snake.
"I'd like to say that we are both interested to finally meet you." Mr Schmidt said, accepting Mort's handshake firmly. "Marianna has had an... interesting taste for certain things recently, we were beginning to assume that..."
"No worries Mr Schmidt, I assure you that I go to church every Wednesday and Sunday and still say my prayers before bed."
Mike happened to look over at his sister to give a smile of assurance for whatever reason, but he noticed the rather demonic look she was giving her father.
It's me o' Lord...
Mort gave Mike's father a smile then turned to look at Mike himself.
"It's been awhile Mike!" Mort said to him as if addressing an old friend. "You remember be?"
Mike thought about it for a moment.
Not the bunny, not the chicken...
"You were a freshman...?" Mike asked, not entirely sure but pretty certain of it.
But it's me o' Lord.
Mort gave Mike a good-to-honest smile.
"And here Marianna thought you wouldn't remember me!" Mort remarked, giving Marianna a quick, joking look, "I feel really special now!"
"Mike, wake up!" Marianna shouted as she attempted to shove him off the bed. Mike's eyes slowly started to open to look at his sister sleepily. He groaned his opinion of being woken up.
"Don't give me that shit," Marianna spat at him as she forced him to sit up. "You've been asleep for fifteen goddamn hours. Have you eaten anything since you got home?"
"It's only..." Mike started to say, but Marianna cut him off.
"It's time for you to go back to work." she told him, shoving his bedside clock in his face. It was almost eleven thirty now.
"I really didn't care, but you were breathing so slow it looked like you died." Marianna then said, without a hint of remorse or sense of what could have been the loss of her only brother. "Now get up, you need to get in the bath before we leave- if you're lucky we might have a granola bar for you to gnaw on before we get there."
. . .
Uh... hello...? Hello? Uh, well, if you're hearing this and you made it to day two- I, uh, congrats! I-I won't talk quite as long this time since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses. I-it might be a good idea to peek at those cameras while I talk just to make sure everyone's in their proper place. You know...
It, uh... Interestingly enough, Freddy himself doesn't come off stage very often. I heard he becomes a lot more active in the dark though, so, hey, I guess that's one more reason not to run out of power, right? I-I also want to emphasize the importance of using your door lights. There are blind spots in your camera views, and those blind spots happen to be right outside of your doors. So if-if you can't find something, or someone, on your cameras, be sure to check the door lights. Uh, you might only have a few seconds to react... Uh, not that you would be in any danger, of course. I'm not implying that. Also, check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time. The character in there seems unique in that he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn't like being watched. I don't know. Anyway, I'm sure you have everything under control! Uh, talk to you soon.
. . .
Speak of the devil...
The rest of the phrase was lost in Mike's memory. As that damn fox pounded on the door three times- three slow and very antagonizing times- Mike's mind wanted to make him believe he was any where but in a place that nearly almost gave him goosebumps.
It's me.
That phrase, that two letter sentence, it was beginning to haunt him more. If imaginary words in your mind could hurt you like a knife in the heart- that was what it felt like when Foxy banged on the door. The clock declared it was only four AM.
Nobody but Freddy was on the stage.
Foxy kept banging on the door, slowly draining the auxiliary power for no reason.
The auxiliary power was under forty percent. Mike feared that the power may go out before six. There was nothing for him to do though- nothing he was allowed to do really. It was at this point Mike took a deep breath out and prayed. It had been a long time since he had prayed, but he did the little religious exercise any way.
The night went on and by six o' clock there had only been one percent of power left.
