I'm hungry, tired, and experiencing headaches at consistent enough of a rate to blame a hangover. I'm trapped in a building at a job where robots can very easily kill me. I'm in a small dark space that was the worst possible place to run off to if anything in media is to be believed in the slightest.

In other words, I'm having a FANTASTIC EVENING. HOW ABOUT YOU?

Well since I don't really care about the answer, how about I try to figure a way out of this situation instead. Would be the smartest thing I've done in the last week or so.

Though it was a bit hard to see through solid wooden doors, lucky for me the sound got through just fine! An earsplitting mangle of a voice I thought only existed in my nightmares of getting lost in a heavy metal concert where every person I tried to get help from turned into a screamer jumpscare. Now I get confirmation that something like that actually was a thing in the real world. Oh joy.

That's weird… It wasn't, coming towards me. I could've sworn that it's seen where I'd bolted to- so idiotically it's hard to resist the urge to bash my forehead into the door. I mean, of ALL places, why oh WHY did I pick a closet?

I already knew that whatever had power over the course of history seemed to have some sadistic sense of humor when it can to deciding my particular brand of luck. But MAN, my instincts must hate me for some reason. To the point that I'd think apart of me was trying to get myself killed tonight- though to my credit, because let's face it I need some, at least I didn't run straight into the robotic thing that eye and that hook I glimpsed belonged to.

No, I'd managed to avoid running directly into the grip of things wanting to hurt me since the San Antonio incident a few months back- or was it years? It got hard to tell the passage of time when a creepy sense of deja vu lurks around you wherever you go.

Speaking of things that are creepy, it seemed that I'd stuck out again- the door slam was enough to get my attention that the robot-thing was gone. Or, at least, it'd left to do something or other. Nothing really of my concern so long as it didn't come back and find me, I guess.

...You know, the more and more I just sit here, the less tired and more nervous I'm getting. It feels like I know something bad is going to happen to myself soon if I don't try and get away. But where to? As much as I hate the fact that I chose a CLOSET, of ALL PLACES, REALLY-!

-and to cut myself off from another useless tirade I spared thee from, be grateful, this seemed to work as a hideout. For how long, I have no idea, but if it was just a one-time thing that my instincts were trying to get me 'dealt with' like I was apart of a mafia then maybe I should try and listen to them again. They got me through the first night somehow…

Before I can come up with some sort of fool-proof plan, I can feel my stomach give a twist. Oh, yeah, that's right… I only got halfway through dinner yesterday before I had to bolt or risk being late. And this morning had been spent on walking off those chills…Then at the bar, with just one drink… 2….5….however much that bill had cost me while I was having a small panic attack.

The mere fact that I had managed to go without eating for an entire day without noticing until I was almost confronted with a robot that would probably kill me surprisingly enough doesn't even phase me. Somehow, though I can't recall clearly, something involving being a tourist all of once and forced into karaoke ranked higher on the stress-no-eating-o-meter.

Why yes. My life is weird enough to the point of requiring one of those. I don't even know why someone would ask at this point.

Rumbling stomach, cramping limbs and paranoia in full gear for every creak meaning something was behind me was the last straw. If I was going to die, I might as well get a last meal, right?

Opening the door as quietly as possible was the hardest part. Every nerve was on end at how it still let out a faint creak that felt like a crash of breaking glass over an intercom. There wasn't any surprises waiting for me, -finally!- other than the fact that the Cove was completely empty.

I'll admit it, there was a bit of cocky confidence in the fact that I'd managed to stay alive without even getting to the cameras yet.

Cameras.

…

OhnoI'mgonnalosemyjobifI'mnotinthereby6atlatestI'msogonnagetfiredI'mnotevendoingmyjobI'mjusthidinginstupidfreakingclosests-

*Deepinhale*

*Deepexhale*

OK. So, thinking about it now, I probably can't get back to my office. And that means that I'm more than likely going to get fired in the morning. But in choosing between surviving and getting money…

Well, since I'm only going to get one of those 2 by the time the night is through, I'm going to continue to aim for the first one. Just as soon as I can get something to eat to make my stomach shut it.

The kitchen wasn't well lit, and there wasn't too much around that I could spot. I did find an apple though… Sort of out of place compared to everything else that was precooked and frozen. I'm not really picky about fruit when it doesn't have anything like razors inside of them like they used to that one time of the year, so it was quick work to eat it to the core.

It was the weird laughter that was echoing in my ears that bothered me though. It was too definite to be a memory, considering how shoddy my recollection is. The only that was left as an option wasn't one I wanted to acknowledge though, so after tossing the core into the trash, I checked around.

Still nothing. Maybe tonight wouldn't be entirely terrifying after all!

I slipped out into the hallway, feeling a smile on my face for the first time today. Missing what came through the entrance doors to the Cove that I had just exited. Not hearing the footsteps in the background that didn't follow after me. Not catching how the faint light was casting a shadow of mine in back of me as I walked quietly upon the old tiled flooring.

Failing to see how there were the thin lines of strings circled around my shadow's neck, like a noose ready at any moment to be pulled and tightened. In the background, though somehow I didn't hear it, laughter still whispered in my ears.

AN: FINALLY! I can hear at least a few people exclaiming. Maybe? Come on, 2? I'm settling with definitively 2. Anyhow, it's been a while since I wrote Mike in first person, and I need feedback as to whether or not it meshes alright with the other 2 entries where I was first person. I'm always looking to improve my style, but for this especially I'm trying to keep things consistent. For both practice and making it easier to read.

What are your thoughts on how it's progressing? Any guesses as to what will happen next? Where did Foxy go off to, and was it him who returned to Pirate's Cove right after Mike left? Answers to come soon, though I won't begrudge hints in the meantime~!