Mr. Schmidt sat alone in his office, swiveling in his ergonomic chair. He held in his hands an unwieldy monitor. Upon his head was what he considered to be a ridiculous hat; a blue cap with bear ears on the sides and text that read "Security Guard". He glanced around the room, his blue eyes dull with boredom.

The room was small with only two doors; each had a window that allowed him visibility to what was outside his office, and a light to actually let him see out of his office. There were some nonfunctional security screens, which would probably be removed at some unforeseen time in the future; they had been replaced by the monitor Mr. Schmidt currently held in his hands. Beside them was a small portable fan and his soda from the restaurant. On the walls were numerous pictures that children had drawn for past security guards and a poster showing the three mascots: Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie.

Maybe one day he would have a picture from a child.

The phone rang, but required no answering.

"Hello?" spoke the voice. "I, uh, wanted to record a message for you, just to get you settled in on your first night. I'm, uh, actually finishing up my last week right now," the voice chuckled lightly. "I, uh, know it can be a little overwhelming, but don't worry! I'm sure you'll do just fine!"

Mr. Schmidt opened and closed the left door and flickered the lights a bit.

"First thing is the introductory company greeting…" the voice started. Paper could be heard shuffling in the background. "Uh… Here it is… Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grownups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced."

Mr. Schmidt stifled an outburst of laughter. What had he gotten himself into?

"Listen, I know it sounds pretty bad, but come on. Do I blame the animatronics? No!" the voice laughed again. "No, no I… I don't. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath, I would be pretty upset at night too," he continued "But hey, these animatronics have a special place in the hearts of children, so give them some respect, alright?"

"But, yeah… Onto more pressing matters. The animatronics do tend to wander around at night. The company leaves them on a 'free roaming mode' at night so their servos doesn't lock up or something. It happens when they're turned off for too long," the voice explained.

Mr. Schmidt looked up, quirking his eyebrow in confusion. He checked his monitor. All three of them were still on stage, and they didn't appear to have moved at all. What was this guy talking about?

"They used to be able to walk around during the day, too," the voice continued, drawing Mr. Schmidt back to the phone. "Then there was the 'Bite of '87'... It's amazing how the human body can live without the frontal lobe, huh?" the voice chuckled.

Mr. Schmidt rolled his eyes and leaned into his chair, continuing to mess with the left door by opening and closing it, flicking the lights on and off. He checked his monitor again.

Bonnie was missing.

Mr. Schmidt's face paled before he sunk into his chair, checking the left hallway.

"Oh, God!" he shouted, nearly jumping out of the chair. Bonnie's grinning face was at the door. He quickly shut it, though Bonnie's shadow flickered against the back wall, visible through the window as the light shone on him.

"Now, the only real risk to your safety," the voice started again, drawing Mr. Schmidt's panicked attention, "Is that if the characters just so happen to see you, they'll most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume, rather than as a, uh, living breathing person. Being outside your costume is against the rules, so, heh, they'll try to forcefully shove you into one, if they get the chance. That wouldn't be so bad, if, uh, the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area, so you could imagine how having your head forcefully shoved into one might cause some mild discomfort… and death… Uh, yeah… The only parts that would make it to see the lights of day again would be your eyes and teeth once they, uh, pop out the front of the mask."

Mr. Schmidt stared at the window. Bonnie's shadow had disappeared. He opened the door and turned the light off.

"This is the stuff they don't tell you when you sign up, but hey! First night should be a breeze! Just remember to check your cameras and close the doors only if absolutely necessary! Gotta save power! Talk to you tomorrow," the voice concluded. "Oh, and one more thing. Should they ever get into the generator and turn the power off early, you could try and go start it up again yourself, but I would just wait it out until 6' when your shift ends. Anyways, talk to you later!"

Mr. Schmidt checked the clock. It was only 2 AM. He had five hours left until his shift ended, though the phone guy had said the first night should be a breeze, right? After all, only Bonnie had decided to wander away from the stage.

He checked the cameras again. Freddy was the only one left on the Show Stage, and he seemed to be staring into the camera. Flicking to another camera, the kitchen, there was no image, but loud clanging could be heard; someone must be in there. After looking through most of the other cameras, Mr. Schmidt finally found Bonnie backstage.

"Hello," Bonnie greeted, staring into the camera, his voice void of any emotion. "I noticed you were-were-were, how do I put this? 'Nude'?" he lifted up a Freddy mask and a Chica mask. "Who would you pre-pre-prefer-" he started before Mr. Schmidt turned the monitor away.

Chica was peering through the window at the right, munching loudly on what Mr. Schmidt assumed were discarded crusts from the garbage. He closed the door. She pouted slightly, but continued to eat her pizza crusts.

"You're out of uniform," she stated, banging on the glass.

"Hey!"

It was Bonnie again.

"I hope you kn-kn-kn-kn-know how rude that was to just look away from me!" he fumed. Mr. Schmidt closed the door, and Bonnie was heartily banging away at it.

This was going to be a long week.