The only problem was that, firstly, he didn't have much of a reason to be there on a Saturday afternoon, and his other problem was that it was highly unlikely anyone would let him look around. The stage and kitchen would be open, perhaps, but everywhere else, especially the cove, would be out of bounds.
Mike wondered, as he walked down the sidewalk towards the Pizzeria, if he'd ever been taken there as a child. Certainly it was open when he was born, for he was a young man and the Pizzeria was old, which explained the lack of power and the constant animatronic part changes due to the paint wearing away. He couldn't remember if he'd ever had a party there, or if he'd just been with his parents. It was hard to imagine it after being almost killed by the animatronics. But kids... they were so comfortable with them. It was weird to see kids enjoying the animatronics rather than being terrified.
Mike reached the Pizzeria, and opened the door, hearing the little jingle of the bell. A jingle that sounded too much like the Toreador March for his liking, and so he distanced himself from it to not hear the ringing much longer.
The room was full of children, sitting on chairs, the floor, watching the band play. Obviously the pizza hadn't been served yet, so Mike didn't have a chance to look at the animatronics closer. But it was an odd sight to see them so docile and not getting worked up over endoskeletons. The music, if a little strained at the speakers, was almost charming, as though it were just a childs party.
Mike kept back, walking around a little further to get closer to the corner of the stage. He stationed himself closer to Bonnie, glancing up at the animatronic rabbit as its hand dipped down and up on the guitar, 'strumming' it to the music, jaw clicking open and shut as though singing along with Freddy and Chica. Comparing this Bonnie to the Bonnie that stationed itself outside the office door for hours at a time was almost impossible. With Freddy and Chica, moreso, though they didn't show up as often.
Freddy himself looked almost harmless in comparison. While inactive the first nights, Freddy was petrifying on the last two nights of the week, and so to see him almost merrily singing into the microphone was almost a shocking transition.
And then, Mike saw it. Clutched in Chicas hand, the cupcake that so often sat on his desk in the office. Was it always in the chicks hand? Or was it removed at night? Who removed it? The whole idea of having the cupcake on his desk made him weary, and he decided that it would be best to just.. move it out of his sight when he started his shift.
Foxy, naturally, was absent - back in Pirates Cove, which was out of bounds. Fortunately, the chime for pizza rang out, and the children dispersed into the dining area, leaving Mike alone with the animatronics. Mike, took his chance, and stepped up infront of Bonnie, edging his way across until he stood infront of Freddy.
The stench was definitely there. They'd obviously tried to cover the stench up with other scents, but the sickening smell of mucus and rotting wafted from Freddys eyesockets and mouth in particular due to how close he was. Mike managed to shove down the urge to be sick, and, out of curiosity, carefully reached out.
Almost instantly, as though in coincidence, Freddy turned his head, snapping his jaw as he continued to sing, despite the lack of children in the room, and Mike wrenched his hand back. Thats when he heard the voice behind him.
"Didn't you read the rules, Michael? No touching Freddy. Wouldn't want a repeated incident, would we?" The owner was standing behind him, and Mike instantly stepped off of the stage sheepishly.
"Sorry, sir. I was just looking at them. Its different seeing them in person than on the cameras," Mike replied, scratching the back of his neck. The owner chuckled and pat him on the back a little too hard.
"That it is. They don't move durin' the day, thats the most difference. Of course, the rules still stand, Schmidt. Don't touch Freddy." The owner pat him again, and turned to move off.
"Wait!" Mike suddenly said, stepping to follow him, "Sir, I was wondering if I could..."
"Yes, Schmidt?" The owner replied, turning to look at the night guard once again with an eyebrow arched curiously.
"I was wondering, If I could possibly look around a bit more. Get to know the place a little better, you know, just in case of emergencies.." Mike attempted, not able to produce an excuse to get a good look around and so relying on his absent trailing mind to save him from the embarassment he'd get.
The owner considered, before slowly nodding his head, "Alright, but no meddling with anything. Since you're here, we could sort out the paperwork now, so meet me in the office when you're done. Careful, though - there is a party going on, as you can see, and it would be better if it wasn't disrupted. This is one of the biggest parties we've had recently, and one of the only ones, as a matter of fact." And with that, the owner turned and slipped between the few parents standing around now, vanishing in the direction of the office.
Mike turned to look at the stage one last time, and froze, a single shiver trailing down his spine.
Freddy was looking at him.
Quickly, as though fearful of the bear even though it was daytime, Mike moved off and down the hallway, trying to get through the dining hall with the amounts of children walking around and sitting down to eat their pizza. His nerves were on edge and he'd sooner check on Foxy before anything else, because the paranoia that the fox would be on the watch for him was still present just as much as the fear for the three stagebound animatronics.
Pirates Cove in person was... dusty. Dusty alone could explain it. The floor hadn't been washed with a mop in a long time, and the sign infront of the curtains was fading slightly. Since Pirates Cove had been closed off in 1987, the sign had been there for a while without being repainted.
The only noticeable marks in the dust were the areas on the curtains partings where something had wiped dust off in small streaks, and the footprints on the floor that were quick and barely parted. Clearly Foxys stunt at slowly approaching was nothing short of rubbish. The foxes footprints indicated he'd been sprinting right away.
Mike reached out for the curtain, hesitant, before slowly drawing one back and peering in, holding his breath. Foxy could be up on the other side of the curtain, hook at the ready... As soon as he could peer in, Foxy could tear his face open in slashes, muffle him down... The fear was unbelieveable.
As it was, Foxy was sitting on the coves treasure chest, tilted slightly to the side, head drooped and jaw hanging open, as though he'd been dropped into a sitting position from a high place. He was shut down, clearly, which clicked realisation into Mikes mind about the animatronic fox. Foxy was shut down in the daytime to prevent him moving at all... which meant at night, he had more energy than the other animatronics, who were active in the day despite not moving.
Which explained why the fox could tear its way down the corridor at full speed like that.
Mike paused, before slipping his arm between the curtains towards the fox. The owner had told him not to meddle, but he was curious, and curiosity was something that could rarely be tamed. Mike hadn't heard much about "The Bite", but the story he knew well enough. Foxy biting off some kids frontal lobe or something. Mike had, in his idle sessions in the office between relentless bunny assaults and static screens, thought about how it was possible. Back then, and even now up close, Foxys teeth seemed.. run down. Blunt. Almost as flat as the others. But then again, he'd been left here to rust, hadn't he?
Mike retracted his arm and slipped back out of the cove, having seen enough of Foxy and gotten the reassurance that the animatronic fox was not about to attack from behind like he did during the night. With all the animatronics stationed, he turned instead to looking at the clippings on the walls, decorated. Awards, the opening ceremony... The opening of the Cove, the presentations... Special offers... All of them seemed relatively normal.
Until he got to the end, where a larger clipping hung.
'Local Pizzeria threatened with shutdown over sanitation.'
Mike stopped to read it, one eyebrow quirked up curiously. This was certainly different to the previous ones.
'Local pizzeria, Freddy Fazbear s Pizza has been threatened again with shutdown by the health department over reports of a foul odor coming from the much loved animal mascots. Police were contacted when parents reportedly noticed what appeared to be blood and mucus around the eyes and mouths of the mascots. One parent likened them to reanimated carcasses".'
So he had seen - and smelt - right. There was definitely something up with the animatronics. Could the blood and mucus be from the tales of those kidnappings of those children? Were they inside the suits? Impossible. They'd have decayed by now, and anyway, it would be hard to get a child inside the costumes with the endoskeletons inside of them. Unless...
Mike was about to turn back to the stage, struck by a thought, when he actually stopped and rethought his actions. Was he about to go backstage and uncover dead bodies? At the place he was hoping to work? No, he couldn't. They wouldn't be there, anyway, since they'd have decayed. And he'd surely get fired for even looking. He'd never seen them on camera, either...
With a sigh, Mike turned to the office to get on with signing the documents. He made sure to doubleback on his route to pass the show stage, glancing at the three still on the stage playing their music.
Freddy was still watching him.