Chapter 2: Lots of Fun

Two weeks later, Michael was forced to rouse himself up and out of the apartment. He had been staying in that singular living room for so long that, truthfully, he didn't even really know when he originally moved in. Time seeped together, with weeks seeming like years and years seeming like mere days. Michael was used to this sensation of floating aimlessly through time and space, although it made things rather difficult when he actually had a schedule to stick to.

Not to mention that, though his body had essentially frozen in a state of just-barely-pre-decomposition, it was still hard to move around. He often wondered if this was what his father felt like, mummified within his own creation. Then, Michael would shake his head and mentally berate himself for giving a damn about what agony that man was going through. In Michael's mind, his father deserved every ounce of pain forced upon him, and so much more.

As nervous as Michael was at the thought of being around so many people again, he felt at least mildly reassured by the man on the phone's promise that he would only be working behind the scenes. Henry, the man said his name was, had done all the hard work with regards to hiring employees, overseeing clean-up and renovation of the building, and putting in as many safety measures as he could at the time (a fact which Michael greatly appreciated). It was up to Michael to sit in the basement office and order supplies, make sure things were being cleaned as needed, and work on marketing ventures such as garnering sponsors and printing flyers.

Shuffling his way down the street with his hands in his pockets, jacket hood pulled down low, and face cast towards the ground, Michael wondered how much longer he would have to put up with this world. He was not sure how he was supposed to free any trapped souls if there were absolutely no animatronics in the pizzeria, save for the off-brand ones he had ordered with what little money he could afford to spend, nor was he sure of how he could find his father and destroy him once and for all.

Michael had moved away from the burned-down site of Fazbear's Fright, all the way to the other end of town, though he could never bring himself to leave the State. This new pizzeria location was quite a fair distance away from Fazbear's Fright and Michael did not understand the connection with any of the original restaurants. However, Henry had been adamant about Michael working at this specific location, and the half-dead man was not in a position to deny anyone's generosity.

A short time later, Michael lifted his head from the pavement to examine the outside of Fazbear Entertainment's latest franchise monstrosity. The colors and signs covering the building were just as gaudy and cringe-inducing and he expected, and he had to look away for fear that he might lose his mind before he even entered the establishment.

At least I don't have to worry about murderous animatronics trying to get into my office, Michael thought, pushing open the door and stepping inside. The entrance opened directly into a short hallway, with a glass-fronted room off to the right that served as the front office. This would be for check-ins, orders, complaints, or whatever else the parents might need.

This was not where Michael would be working.

Instead, he followed the instructions he had been running through his mind since his last phone call with Henry: down the hallway, veer left, take the "Employees Only" staircase down to the basement, and enter the "Employees Only" room at the bottom of the stairwell. This is where Michael would be spending his days, in a small room with one desk and a very, very outdated computer monitor. He glanced to the left and right, as was a habit nowadays, and instantly got a chill down his spine.

Gaping, animatronic-sized vents jutted out from the walls on either side of the desk. They currently reached Michael's chin, which meant that they would be at eye-level once he sat down in that horrible, cheap swivel chair. If he hadn't been in this same situation multiple times before, he might have screamed aloud and run right out of the building.

However, this scenario was nothing new. Sighing with resignation, Michael locked the door firmly behind him and checked the vents for any way to close them up. Finding none, he planted himself in the chair and stared dully at the blank computer monitor.

He really, really thought that this time would be different.

Alas, here he was again, surrounded by openings that he could not quite see and desperately wishing that nothing would try to crawl out of them. At least this time, being the one responsible for everything that entered the restaurant, he would be able to control what animatronics tried to get to him… or so he hoped.

Four hours later, the opening of Fazbear's Pizzeria (Location Number 18) was in full swing. Michael could hear the sound of children laughing and happily screeching as their tiny footfalls made the roof above his head, which was the floor of the main Party Room, sound like it was being run across by a heard of baby elephants. So far, there had been no obvious sounds of distress from Michael's vantage point, much to his relief.

Strangely, there were absolutely no cameras set up around the pizzeria. When he looked through the limited functions of the old desktop computer, all he found were motion detectors and speakers in an ominous, simplistic display of the ventilation system. This was an odd design choice to most people, but Michael had a sinking feeling in the pit of his nonexistent stomach that he knew exactly what these systems were for.

Despite the building dread, the day passed without incident. Michael was constantly worried that a wayward child would find their way downstairs to his office, but the daytime staff did a surprisingly good job of keeping everyone in check. Michael would occasionally receive text updates from the Manager on the status of the pizzeria- how things were going, what needed to be replaced or cleaned, and other such things. True to Henry's word, Michael never had to leave the little underground office.

This was a welcome relief. After months and months holed up in his apartment, the short trek to the pizzeria had taken a lot out of him. It also did not help that Michael only had one mostly-functioning lung, and even though he did not technically need to breathe, he never quite learned how to kick the habit. He was able to use the time between checking the restaurant's status to sit back in his chair and just rest.

He knew that this respite would not last long, but he took the opportunity to enjoy it while he could.

Soon enough, it was nearing nine pm. The families had all gone home and, with one final text sent by the Manager as he exited the front door, so had the staff. Michael sat there for a moment, waiting for something to happen. However, everything was still. With wary hesitation, Michael stood up… and that was when his phone began to ring.

"…Hello?" he answered after clearing his throat, seeing Henry's name pop up on the caller ID.

"Hello, Michael; I trust you had a successful first day?" the voice on the phone replied.

"Yes, it was… well, it seemed to… to be good," Michael said, nodding slightly even though he knew that Henry couldn't see him.

"Fantastic." There was a brief pause and then Henry continued, with an edge to his voice that Michael was not particularly fond of. "Michael, there is… something else that I must talk to you about. An extra part of your job that I neglected to tell you about beforehand."

Here it is. Michael closed his eyes, readying himself for what was to come. Any second, some horrendous metallic creature would spring out of one of those vents and be upon him. Swiveling his head to check for movement, Michael tried his best to keep the ear not put up to the phone trained to detect any wayward sound in the office.

"I apologize for not telling you this earlier, but I was not entirely sure you were the right person for the job," Henry continued. "However, after talking to you for these past few weeks, I can confirm in every sense except for seeing you in person that you are, in fact, the one I need for this task."

"How did you-"

"Everything will become clear in the next few days." Henry cut off Michael's interjection, and the half-dead man did not have the will to try to speak again. "If you choose to stay, that is; as always, you have a choice."

"As always?" Michael thought, frowning. That's an odd choice of words…

"You do not have to complete this task I have for you- and I will warn you that it may be very difficult. However, I hope that you will at least consider it. What do you say?"

Michael hung his head, defeated yet again. What else was there to do? In an emotionless voice, he murmured: "Yes."

"Thank you." The lack of relief in Henry's tone led Michael to believe that there was never a doubt that Michael would deny this request. "Please, go to the room at the far end of the basement hall; the door has a large 'No Admittance' sign on it. Unfortunately, I will not be able to give you any real-time instructions once you enter that room, since the cell phone signal will be lost due to… interference."

"Then how… will I know what… to do?" Michael asked, trying to remain calm. He was leaving this room- maybe he would not have to suffer through five more nights of torment. He did not feel very confident about that idea, though.

"All of the instructions are pre-recorded on a cassette player," Henry answered as Michael slowly pushed open the office door, checking down the hallway for any potential threats. "Everything you need to know will be on it."

"Cassette tapes?" Michael questioned, beginning the short trek down the hallway. "A little… old-fashioned, isn't it?"

"I have been accused of being 'stuck in the past,' on occasion," Henry said with a curt laugh. "Still, cassette tapes still work if you have the proper equipment for them, as do most old-fashioned things."

Michael merely grunted in agreement, coming up to the "No Admittance" door. It looked just the same as the office door, but there was a strange, electrical current-like energy coming from behind it, as if whatever was in that room literally buzzed with excitement.

"Oh, there's one more thing I need to tell you," Henry said, bringing Michael's attention back to the phone. "As I mentioned earlier, you will be given another choice as to whether you want to complete this task or not. For safety reasons, the door is equipped with an auto-locking mechanism that will be activated once you step inside and fully close it. The door can only be opened from the outside, unless you select 'No' on the keypad attached to the door when prompted. You will see what I mean once you enter the room.

"If you select 'No,' the door will unlock and you will have 5 seconds to open it and leave the room before the auto-lock activates again. If you select 'Yes,' the door will remain locked until your task is complete. Does that make sense?"

"I…I suppose?" Michael said uncertainly. It seemed needlessly complicated, but if it kept the children upstairs safe, even when they weren't in the pizzeria, then he would do anything.

"Okay, good. I know you'll chose the right thing," Henry said, the faintest hint of a smile in his tone. "I assume you're at or at least close to the door, so I'll let you go. Good luck."

The phone went dead, and Michael stared at it blankly for a second before closing the screen and slipping the device into his jacket pocket. Even if Henry said that there would be no cell service, Michael felt safe with the phone on his person, at the very least. Not wanting to prolong this any further, he pushed on the locking bar and the door swung open.

Michael scurried inside and was unhappy to find that the lights were off. He felt around for the light switch and flipped it on just as the door swung shut with a loud click. Instantly, that electric current started up again and Michael slowly turned around.

There was only a single light bulb in the room, hanging in what was presumably the center, giving Michael no sense of whether the area was small or large. It illuminated four things: a desk with a small stack of papers on it; a chair to sit in while examining the papers; the cassette player that Henry had mentioned; and something else sitting opposite of the empty chair.

Something large, metallic, and most certainly not as docile as it appeared to be at first glance.

"No...," Michael breathed, staring at the mangled, twisted hunk of metal that sat before him. Painstakingly slowly, afraid that any movement he made would somehow set off the animatronic, the half-dead man slowly made his way to the empty chair and took a seat.

"No," he repeated, though this time it sounded more like an anguished moan.

The last time he had seen this abomination known as "Funtime Freddy," if it could even be called that in its current state, Michael had gotten Scooped. Merely looking at the thing across the table brought back the memory of organs being unceremoniously removed- if Michael still had his stomach, he would surely throw up right then and there. However, instead all he could do was stare, horrified, waiting for something to happen and wondering how the hell Freddy had gotten here.

After an intense, one-sided stare-down, Michael realized that, maybe, the animatronic was not going to move. He decided to risk looking away for a moment and turned his attention to the tape player to his left. His eyes flickered back to Freddy as he gingerly hit the "Play" button on the little machine; maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

"Congratulations on completing your first day." Henry's voice echoed throughout the silent room. Michael kept his gaze trained on Freddy, knowing even though the creature seemed inactive, it was probably listening to every word. "However, your job isn't over just yet. There is another aspect to your end-of-day routine... and that is inspecting and salvaging any animatronics found in the alley outside the back door.

"Things are found here quite often, and while we aren't sure why, what we do know is that they can be used for parts, which can mean a much-needed revenue boost before starting your next day."

Michael's head began to fill with more questions that he knew would probably never be answered. Despite this increase in thought, he still watched Freddy with undivided attention, vaguely thankful that he did not need to blink as much as most living people do. To his amazement, the metallic creature hadn't even twitched... yet.

"Of course, as with everything else in this line of work, those benefits come with risk," the pre-recorded Henry continued. "The safest thing to do is to throw it back outside. But then, you get no money for the salvage. Chose to keep it, and you run the risk of certain negative consequences- namely, death, should the item in question not be as docile as it first appeared."

Michael couldn't help but let out a derisive snort at this comment, shifting his gaze away from Freddy to give the tape a glare. That might have been one of the most obviously-stated things he ever heard. Focusing back on Freddy, Michael's teeth instantly clenched in alarm- the animatronic had definitely moved into a more upright position. How it had done this with absolutely no noise, Michael had no idea.

"Don't you... dare," Michael hissed, using all of his willpower not to throw the tape recorder at Freddy and run. He needed to stay and find out what this "salvage" was all about, and he obviously couldn't just leave Freddy here to potentially run amok throughout the pizzeria. Narrowing his eyes, Michael refocused on Henry's voice.

"If you do decide to salvage it, then you must complete the maintenance checklist. During this testing phase, check on the animatronic frequently. If you feel that it is becoming unstable, use the taser provided to you. You can use it three times before damaging the hardware. Every use over three, however, will decrease the item's salvage value.

"Before you is an animatronic found in the back alley. We are unsure of its origins. It is your job to complete the maintenance checklist before claiming it as 'salvage.' Or, if you choose to, you can throw it back into the alley where you found it and forfeit payment. Please make your choice now."

Michael did not see how it would be possible for Freddy to actually be thrown back into the alley- nor did he want the thing to be out in the world anymore. At least here, in this tiny room with Michael and the conveniently-placed taser he found in an uneasily-seen drawer in the desk, Freddy was at least somewhat contained.

Remembering Henry's earlier instructions about the keypad on the door, Michael regrettably stood up, taser in hand. There was no way in hell he was going to let go of his only form of protection, nor could he take his eyes off of Freddy, so he backed up until he literally ran into the door. With a groan, he realized that he had to look away for a second to find the correct button. Michael did just that, and when he turned back around, Freddy did not seem to have moved.

"You have chosen to proceed with the maintenance checklist," pre-recorded Henry said as Michael returned to his seat. "Remember, use your company-issued taser to return the animatronic to a neutral state if you feel that it's becoming unstable or aggressive. You can only use it three times before it begins to damage the animatronic and decrease its value.

"Begin audio prompt in 3... 2... 1."

A grating sound that Michael couldn't quite identify issued from the tape player. He grimaced and clenched his teeth again, hand tightening around the taser. Any second, Freddy was going to spring to life, and Michael would have little time to defend himself.

However, to Michael's surprise, the audio prompt didn't actually seem to do anything. The animatronic remained where it was, silent and still.

"Document results," Henry instructed.

Hesitantly, Michael paused the tape and picked up the checklist, holding it up to his face- his poor eyesight was enhanced by the dull light from the lone bulb hanging over the table. After marking the appropriate section for a lack of reaction, Michael put the paper down and swore he caught one of Freddy's fingers twitching. Not taking any chances, he held the taser in front of him and zapped the animatronic.

The electrical surge caused the bulb to go out, plunging the room into darkness and nearly causing Michael to lose any semblance of calm he had managed to collect over the past few minutes. To his relief, the bulb flickered back to life almost instantly, revealing that Freddy had indeed reverted back to its original, slumped position.

With a little sigh, Michael allowed the tape to play again. He repeated the process of listening to the audio prompt and recording results twice more. Freddy moved again, but Michael did not feel the need to taser the creature just yet- he was morbidly curious as to whether the audio prompts were actually causing it to move. Of course, because of this inquisitiveness the next event was almost inevitable.

After the final audio prompt, Michael's gaze shifted to the paper yet again. Suddenly, he heard an all-too-familiar laugh emanating from across the table. Instantly on red-alert, he threw down the paper just in time to see Freddy's eyes light up and its mouth open wide as it said in a silly, glitching, sing-song voice:

"Knock, knock, I'm heeeeeeere~"

Without warning, the animatronic lunged. Michael let out a shriek and held his arms in front of his face, as if that would prevent him from getting horribly mangled once that thing got a hold of him. He felt cold metal brush against his shoulder, and if Michael didn't know better he would swear it felt like an affectionate pat. He expected the next sensation to be a stab through the back, but instead… there was nothing more than the sound of scraping metal fading into the distance.

Quickly, Michael whirled around to see the tail end of a metallic tendril fading into the wall. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, Michael realized that it was not, in fact, completely sealed; there was a large, square hole in the wall that appeared to lead straight into the ventilation system.

"Oh no," Michael groaned, raking his hands through his hair. The animatronic had escaped into the vents, and he knew exactly where it would end up tomorrow night.

I should have known this place wouldn't be any different, Michael thought, staring blankly at the dark hole. Luckily, his thorough search of the digital map earlier that evening had revealed no other openings in the ventilation system except those leading into his office and, apparently, into this particular room. He would have to double check the entire building to make sure this was indeed the case and that there were no secret, hidden rooms unavailable on the map, but potentially this situation would be alright.

At least, it would be alright for the children… which was all that Michael cared about.

With a creaking of old bones, the half-dead man stood and shuffled to the door. He spared one last look at the vent, half-hoping that the animatronic would come back out so that he could somehow find a way to deal with it right then and there. However, when there was no sign of the creature, Michael pressed the "No" button on the door and ran out of the room as fast as he could, pulling it tightly closed.

For the next two hours, Michael carefully examined every nook and cranny of the building. He knew that he would be unable to fully calm himself until this particular ordeal was over, but he at least wanted to make sure that the children would be safe for as long as it took to get rid of this nasty animatronic. Without a doubt, Henry would make sure those doors opened tomorrow regardless of what was hiding within the building; Michael wanted to be assured that the only thing that salvaged Freddy could go after was him.

Thankfully, he found no other ventilation openings save for those in his office below ground, although he could swear that the animatronic was tracking him through the vents as he conducted his search. Regardless, he was as certain as could be that there was no way it could get free. Even though his office door didn't have as high-tech a lock as the one to the Salvage Room, he figured that it would at least hold for a bit if the metallic creature got the urge to try and break out.

With that thought in mind, Michael locked up the front door of his franchise building and began the walk back to his apartment. Be it from years of experience or simply a long-developed intuition, Michael had a feeling that the animatronic was right where it wanted to be.

And at eight am the next morning, he would be back there as well.