Chapter One

*Beep. Beep. Beep. *

As the child ran back and forth the room, sweat dripped from his palms. He was a young child, around 6 years of age. A flashlight was gripped in his hand, flicked on and off furiously as he rushed to check the doors, and what could have been lurking in the dark hallways.

At 5 in the morning, the child only had one more hour to go before he escaped the hellish nightmare for a brief period of time, a respite that was so desperately craved. The young boy's eyes were sunken, his face pallid from the stress. Short cropped hair adorned his scalp, and he was clad in a patterned pair of pyjamas. Small, blue threaded birds could be seen on them. As he ran, the movement of the soft and damp fabric made them seem as if their wings were outstretched, ready to take off and soar into the night sky. The already large bedroom seemed even bigger as he struggled to maintain his composure, breathing heavily. His legs nearly buckled as he ran, a clear sign of the physical fatigue. No normal person, especially a growing child, should have had to run non stop for that long. The only thing that kept him going was adrenaline, anxiety and most prominently, fear.

Right door. Check.

Left door. Che-

The boy's panicked mental state jolted as he opened the door and shone his flashlight to illuminate what could only be called a demon from his worst nightmares.

A lavender coloured suit that had grown decrepit and moldy was standing there. Holes could be seen everywhere on the animatronic as it heaved and puffed in the hallway, right outside the door. Bare wired were revealed through the holes that were littered around the suit. Frayed as they were, they could not cover up the broken and battered endoskeleton inside the suit that supported it and allowed it to stand upright. As the head of the animatronic bunny lowered to stare at the child with red, glowing eyes, the weak glow of the flashlight shone on its face. A large gaping jaw that covered a third of its face smiled at the child menacingly, baring the many rows of sharp teep inside. The bunny ears were snapped back halfway, and tattered. Scars and holes dotted its face, as it moved towards the child.

Blood filled the young boy's vision as the animatronic ripped his chest apart, a gurgly static noise that sounded oddly like a scream emanating from its broken artificial voice box.

The screaming continued as the young, sobbing child awoke again to the same room, in the dead of night. A alarm clock at the side of his bed revealed that it was 12 AM in the morning. It could have been a nightmare, he told himself, shaking as cold sweat flooded his now dry pyjamas. I'm going to wake up in a few moments, and everything is going to be alright. But no matter what he told himself as he once again went through the room checking the doors and the closets, a dark thought nagged at him that he forced into the dark recesses of his mind.

The evil lurking in his house only really stopped at exactly 6 A.M, when he awoke from the prison in his mind.

Now, this could have been seen as a coincidence, if it weren't for the damned fact that this exact scenario had occured for the *last three nights*.

A flash of inspiration came over him, a product of his childlike creativity. The 6 year old recalled the four other nights he had experienced and finished beforehand. Something was definitely different this time, on the fifth night. It almost seemed as if the animatronics were *waiting* for him to shine his light on them, to catch him by surprise. He intended to use that to his advantage, to grab ahold of any opportunities that presented themselves to him that would allow him to escape the nightmares.

He had always been an observant child. Living with his older brother had ensured that. Their relationship wasn't exactly a good one. Michael, being the older of the two, had a sort of superiority complex. Coupled with the fact that their father barely paid attention to them and was always immersed in his work, it meant that more often than not, they were left all alone. That meant harassment, teasing and, if Michael was in a bad mood, violence. In fact, his brother could be described with one word.

Sociopath.

The lack of both a mother and father's presence in a family meant that they could only rely on themselves. And while his brother decided to fall back on the sense of superiority, the younger brother took comfort and familiarity in his only friend.

His Fredbear plush toy.

The younger Afton brother rushed around the room, but with a different goal in mind. Instead of trying to find the animatronics to keep them away, perhaps he could try to *hide* instead of delivering himself to them. The previous strategy had worked the previous few nights, but the animatronics in his house, no, his nightmares, seemed much more active that night. A change of plans was needed.

He'd learned a few neat tricks to keep away from his bully of an older brother. Whether it was barricading the doors that couldn't be locked because of poor house design, or hiding in a spot where he wouldn't be found, he had done them all. Taking a broom and a dustpan from the thankfully empty closet, he quickly placed them across the two doorframe, intersecting with the handles, that were thankfully not knobs. *This should keep them out for a little while,*he thought to himself as he tied the handles of the closet together with the lamp cord that he had tugged out. Briefly admiring his work, he remembered that he still wasn't finished. There was still the fourth one he couldn't keep out of his room, the bear. Glancing at his bed, the three miniature and tattered dolls of the Freddy animatronic giggled and slid off the bed, out of view. It had been far too close to comfort for him. Once four of the dolls gathered, they would allow the broken and disfigured Freddy animatonic access to the room even with the doors closed. Tugging with all of his energy, he dragged his desk out just enough for him to turn it around, and quickly slid into the small space. Holding the inside sides with his palms, the tired child finally managed to drag the desk back to its original position, with it being reversed and himself hiding inside it. He thanked whatever god might have been watching that the design of the desk was to have three wooden sides propping it up, with an empty space inside for leg room. No matter where they were, the 'nightmare' animatronics, as he called them, would never be able to see him. At least, that was what he told himself. With the desk opening to the wall, he was completely enclosed by all four sides. It was eerily silent, the only sound being the boy's soft but tired breathing. The mental fatigue that had accumulated over the nights had taken a toll on him.

With only the bedside clock and his flashlight next to him under the desk, he did what any other child would do after all that had happened. He accidentally fell asleep.

The boy was suddenly awoken by a loud and thunderous crash. Momentarily forgetting where he was after being jolted from his peaceful slumber, he sat there, dazed. Heavy footsteps could be heard pacing the room, searching for an unseen target. Covering his mouth with his hands in an attempt to smother the sounds of his breathing, the child nervously sat deathly still, as if the slightest movement would alert his tormentors to his location. He prayed that they would not notice the odd alignment of the desk, that their intelligence and recognition would be affected by the sheer fact that they were robots.

The footsteps paused right in front of him.

A cry of despair hovering right inside his mouth behind his lips, threatening to escape was swallowed back down when the sounds of whatever was barely a meter away, separated only by a flimsy sheet of wood walked out of the room.

A quick glance at the alarm clock illuminated by the dull light of the flashlight revealed the time to the panicked child who was crying silently.

4:50 A.M.

He'd had low expectations for how long a wooden janitorial tool would last against a hulking metal beast, but could not handle the truth when confronted with it.

In fact, it had lasted an incredibly long time already. Two hours under the occasional barrage of animatronics that were *8 feet tall, made of metal, and able to rip apart flesh like paper*. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough.

The question the sobbing child asked himself was, which door had been crushed?

The crash that had awoken him was definitely not a sound something like a broom or dustpan would make when broken. No, it could only be the product of strong metal breaking apart a door forcefully.

Being unable to open the door to peek inside, either the bunny or the chicken, if you could even call them that, had lost their patience and had decided to just conpletely destroy the door.

Now, even if he'd wanted to do what he had done the previous nights, the boy would have one empty abyss, either on his left or on his right. He would not be able to hold the door shut like he had.

*Hold the door shut like he had.*

How on earth had he been able to overpower something like that in the simple task of holding a door shut? Putting aside the matter of strength, his torturers were made of metal, and would have an insane weight ratio compared to his own. How had he done it? How? Especially when they had just easily destroyed the door that had clearly been stronger than the broom and the dustpan combined?

Once again, he couldn't handle the truth.

The secret was not that the boy had super strength, or supernatural powers, or that he was gifted in the art of pulling doors shut.

*They had been toying with him*.

Giving him an illusion of hope. They had put a glass of water in front of a thirsty, dying man, and knocked it over as soon as he had managed to touch it.

For that, at least, the child was both grateful and terrified. He had a chance of surviving, but the robots could also take it away easily.

He could only follow the illusion, he could only hope.

For it was the only thing that had a sliver of a chance to keep him alive, the only thing that he could hold onto that prevented him from literally going insane.

And the first thing he needed to do, was to quell the curiousity in him about which door had been rendered useless.

As the boy was about to move, loud footsteps suddenly echoed throughout the room.

*Freddy.*

A pair of softer but much faster footsteps accompanied it.

*Foxy.*

Now, there were four animatronics in the house. The Fox and the Bear had joined the other two hallway lurkers.