Mike's eyes frantically bounced around in his skull, shifting from left to right in a futile attempt to get a glimpse of his assailant. Not that it was necessary, Mike knew who it was that was practically suffocating him with his large, brown, faux-fur covered paw which smelled of musty old pizza. Mike also knew that he was dead, or soon to be, anyway. Any plans of escape that his feverish brain was attempting desperately to concoct were shattered as Freddy effortlessly reached over and tapped the 'door' switch on each side of the office without budging from his spot behind Mike, bringing both doors crashing down. All sense of reason leaving him, Mike began to scream, rewarded only with a muffled moan and a lack of oxygen for his efforts.
"Now, now, Michael, we can't be having that. Screaming is against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's- rule number three, to be specific."
Something about the way Freddy spoke chilled Mike to his very core. His disturbingly calm tone was incredibly cold and uncaring, even for a hulking metallic monstrosity. Mike felt compelled by his sense of self-preservation to obey the bear for the time being, however, and gradually forced himself to silence.
"There, that's better. Now, I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth, and you aren't going to scream, or make any sound whatsoever, for that matter. Understood?"
Mike nodded weakly in response.
Freddy nodded, satisfied, in return, even though Mike could not see it, and removed his hand from the guard's face, taking a step backwards.
Mike twisted himself around, unprepared for just how imposing the figure before him would turn out to be up close. Freddy was absolutely massive- much broader than Foxy, even if not much taller. His height and mass combined made for a very intimidating figure, the effect was further enhanced by the fact that from Mike's seated position, he could clearly see the shining metal teeth of the endoskeleton within.
"I know what you're up to, Mr. Schmidt. Don't think for a second that I do not."
Mike barely paid attention to whatever it was Freddy had just said. He was too consumed by fear to focus, but it sounded like Freddy had accused him of something.
"You've really put me in a difficult position, you know." Freddy continued as he paced -as much as one possibly could in such a small space- back and forth within the office.
"Believe me when I say that your still being alive is no accident. By all rights I should have killed you myself well before now. I suppose, in that regard, it would seem that your gambit has paid off," Freddy observed as he glanced at the clearly shaken night guard.
Beginning to overcome the initial waves of shock that had come crashing against him with Freddy's sudden appearance, Mike was starting to pick up more of what the bear was actually saying.
My 'gambit'? What the hell is he talking about...?
It was then that Mike realized that keeping Freddy talking might be his only chance of surviving this encounter... or at least of prolonging the inevitable.
"...I don't know what you're talking about," Mike finally replied, unconvincingly.
"Don't play stupid with me, Mr. Schmidt. I don't play games unless they are by my rules," Freddy said as he gave Mike an appraising look that reeked of skepticism. "We both know that you and Foxy have been conspiring with each other these past few nights- I don't know what you did to achieve this, but that much is clear."
Mike said nothing, attempting to keep his face as neutral as possible to avoid unintentionally confirming anything the bear was saying.
"More to the point, we both know that you weren't alone when you departed from here last night."
Mike swallowed hard at that. Well, he had never been very good at hiding his emotions under pressure- which would explain why his friends always wanted him to play poker with them, the bastards.
Mike's reaction was all the confirmation Freddy needed as he nodded his head before continuing.
"As I said before, you've put me in quite a difficult position. Whatever you did, it's clear you've established a rapport with our resident pirate... to the degree that he would knowingly shelter you from my pursuit..."
Shit...
The dreaded realization that Freddy had known he was hiding out in the cove the other night settled over Mike's stomach like an ice-cold shroud.
"Given that," Freddy continued,"if I were to kill you right now- and believe me when I say that it would be all too easy- one could reasonably assume that Foxy would not be particularly...receptive...to such a turn of events."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Mike asked, strength returning to his voice. Scared as he was, the bear's facade of politeness was grating on his nerves something fierce.
"Why indeed... Have you ever stopped to consider the consequences of your actions here, Mr. Schmidt?" Freddy asked pointedly as he rounded on the guard seated before him. "You may be willing to take advantage of and manipulate him to serve as your little bodyguard..." Freddy muttered threateningly, eyes narrowing in the first hint of emotion Mike had seen from him yet.
"'Manipulate'?" Mike interrupted, "the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Oh please, Mr. Schmidt, don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. We both know you're just stringing Foxy along, playing pirate so long as he places himself between me and you when the time comes. Isn't that right?" Freddy accused, condescendingly, as he took a step closer to the man.
"Bullshit! What the fuck do you know, anyway? You don't know me." Mike exclaimed, suddenly finding himself on his feet in clear defiance of the fear threatening to turn his legs to jelly beneath him.
"Oh... it would seem that I've struck a nerve," Freddy observed, a smug grin spreading across his face as he cocked his head to the side ever so slightly.
"Since you asked," Freddy continued, unfazed, "allow me to tell you what I think I know. I know that you are putting a member of our family in unnecessarily grave danger by convincing him to leave this place during the day. I know that you are either very stupid or very sure of yourself to keep coming back here night after night. And I know that while you play at being friends with Foxy, you couldn't care less if he gets scrapped as a result of your selfish actions."
"'Scrapped'?" Mike asked, confused, unfamiliar with the term.
"What do you think would happen if Foxy were to be spotted outside the walls of this establishment, walking and talking as we are now?" Freddy asked the night guard, "he would be deemed a threat, and the authorities would track him down and destroy him as they would a bloodthirsty beast before coming and destroying the rest of us for good measure- as history does have a tendency to repeat itself. But that would please you, wouldn't it, Mr. Schmidt? In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's been part of your plan all along."
Mike was silent as he thought back to earlier in the day when he had believed Foxy had left his apartment and wandered off on his own. As much as he wanted to deny Freddy's accusations, a question pushed its way to the forefront of his mind.
"Wait, what did you mean by 'history has a tendency to repeat itself'...?"
"Oh, I see... So, he's not told you, then..." Freddy said knowingly, a hint of smugness evident in his voice.
"Told me what?" Mike asked, a little too quickly.
Freddy simply smiled a wide smile that Mike supposed the children found charming, but Mike found it deeply disturbing.
"Told me what!?" he repeated.
"Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Schmidt," Freddy said, inclining his head in the slightest bow he could manage, as he tapped the 'door' switch before stepping out into the east hallway and disappearing into the darkness.
Mike wasn't sure how long he'd sat there staring straight ahead at the wall after Freddy had gone. There were so many questions buzzing around in his head, it was impossible to identify a signal in all the noise. He hadn't even bothered monitoring the animatronics...something told him that Freddy wouldn't be making a repeat appearance tonight. He clearly wanted Mike to think about what he'd said, otherwise Freddy would have just killed him right then and there.
It frustrated Mike to no end that Freddy had so easily honed in on his insecurities, and it made him question himself.
What the hell have I gotten myself into... Mike pondered, worriedly. If it wasn't painfully obvious before, it was crystal clear now- there was way more to this wretched place beyond a few rogue animatronics with faulty A.I. and homicidal tendencies. If Mike had had any doubts to the contrary before, they were all but dispelled now.
I'll have to ask Foxy when- Mike paused mid-thought. Everything the bear had said about the pirate came rushing back. He felt certain enough that he could get some answers from the fox if he was persistent, but memories of the day before came flooding back, namely the look of unbridled fury on Foxy's face when he had attempted to ask about 'the bite'...
And what was it that Foxy hadn't told him? The bear's final words had settled in Mike's gut, festering and making him feel queasy. It had been exceedingly obvious that Foxy was hiding something from him, but now, for the first time, Mike truly started to fear that it was something much more sinister than he had dared guess. Suddenly, he didn't feel quite as comfortable with the prospect of being in the same room as Foxy as before, and he hated Freddy for it.
Could he even afford to pull another stunt like he had the night before? As much as he loathed to admit it to himself, Freddy had been right. Mike had put Foxy at great risk by taking him back to his apartment. If any sign of Foxy's sentience had been witnessed by a hapless bystander, events could have spiraled out of Mike's control within minutes- seconds, even- and it would have been entirely his fault.
Mike was torn. Of course he felt obligated to Foxy for protecting him thus far, plus he was now more curious than ever about the secrets this place so obviously held, and, if he was being honest, he had (for the most part) genuinely enjoyed Foxy's company these past few days. On the other hand, however, Mike had to ask himself why he continually refused to get up from his chair, sprint down the hallway and out the front door, putting as much distance between himself and Freddy Fazbear's as possible- and never look back. Sure, he would be surrendering the entirety of the paycheck he had risked his life for up to this point, but what good was it if he was dead? Was his obligation to Foxy really the only thing keeping him here?
Mike was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed someone was standing beside him, looking down at him as he sat in a silent stupor.
"Ye alrigh', lad?"
Mike simply turned his head to look up at the fox dazedly, face bereft of expression, before turning back to glance at the tablet before him. It was already 5:50 AM.
"Mikey, I said are ye alri-"
"I heard you," Mike interrupted with a sigh.
"Well, are ye ready ta' sail outta' this dingy ol' port?" Foxy asked enthusiastically, motioning towards the hallway with his hook.
"...I think you should stay here tonight." Mike said, still staring straight ahead, not looking at Foxy.
"Ye wha'?" Foxy asked, perplexed.
"I said," Mike began to repeat, a bit more forcefully, "I'm not bringing you back with me tonight."
"Wha' be this mutinous nonsense ye speak, o'course ye are! Ye said-"
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Mike felt his face flush with heat as he spun in his chair, rounding on the fox in frustration.
"Stop. Please, for the sake of my sanity, cut the pirate crap for five seconds. I'm fucking exhausted, and I can't deal with this right now," said Mike as he gestured vaguely at Foxy with a wave of his hands.
...
Mike knew he was making a mistake even as the words left his mouth, but he'd let his exhaustion and his frustrations get the better of him. He also knew it was too late to take the words back, as he saw Foxy's brow furrow and eyes narrow as he raised his hook and opened his newly functioning jaw to speak.
However, Foxy said nothing. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut and leveled an icy glare at Mike before turning on his heel and stomping out of the office and down the hallway, leaving Mike alone, accompanied only by the sound of metal footfalls fading into the distance.
Mike groaned and dragged his hand down his face. He was simply too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to deal with this place a minute longer. Gathering his things, he exited the office and walked for the exit, pausing for a moment to glance at the darkened and unmoving curtains of Pirate Cove, half expecting to see a pair of glowing golden orbs watching him spitefully. Seeing nothing but inky darkness, he sighed and pushed open the door before stepping outside into the brisk morning air.
On the main show stage, Freddy Fazbear wore the slightest suggestion of a smile.
Mike lazily forced his eyelids open to the sight of dark orange sunlight spilling across his field of vision. Had he really slept through the entire day? He barely remembered arriving home, much less getting himself ready for and into bed. It was then that he became very aware of the night guard outfit still clinging uncomfortably to his body. Well, that explained that.
Stumbling out of bed with a groan he stretched exaggeratedly, wincing a few times as joints popped into place. Glancing outside he could see the sky was ablaze with the final minutes of daylight. Figuring that it must have been close to 8 PM, Mike was immediately reminded of the fact that he was expected to report to Freddy Fazbear's in less than four short hours.
Freddy's warnings and blunt accusations from the night before floated back into his mind. What would be in store for him if he returned there tonight? Had Freddy merely been attempting to deter him from coming back, or was his agenda as sinister and foreboding as the bear himself?
And what of Foxy? Mike felt the predictable feelings of guilt begin to settle in as he remembered what he had said to the fox before leaving him behind. As much as he hated himself for it, he acknowledged the fact that he needed to firmly plant himself on Foxy's good side once more to ensure his protection, but seeing as he also felt legitimately awful for the things that he had said to the fox, he very much wanted to make amends. The fact that his motivations extended beyond mere self-preservation felt like a testament not only to his amicable relationship with Foxy, but also to his denial of Freddy's accusations to the contrary the night before, and served to bolster his resolve as he began preparing for his shift.
Mike decided to arrive to work a bit early this particular night, owing to a need to make a pit stop in Pirate Cove before reporting to his post. Mike chuckled darkly to himself at his flippant reference to the mundane work he had initially expected to be doing at Freddy's...oh how wrong he had been.
Heading straight for Pirate Cove upon entering the restaurant, casting a brief glance at the show stage to ensure that Freddy wasn't watching him, he pulled the violet curtains aside and stepped into the darkness within.
Instinctively bracing himself, Mike was not surprised, yet nonetheless relieved, when nothing happened, and he was met only with silence. Not wanting to allow his eyes the time they needed to adjust to the inky blackness of the cove, Mike flicked on his flashlight and pointed it at Foxy.
...or rather, he would have been pointing it at Foxy, if the animatronic had been standing where he usually did. The fox was nowhere to be found. A slight sense of panic sent the hairs on Mike's arms standing straight up at attention as he cautiously crept around the dusty old props littering the cove, scanning in search of its only resident.
After a brief minute of increasingly frantic searching, Mike breathed a sigh of relief as the pillar of light emanating from his flashlight fell over the sullen form of Foxy the Pirate, seated behind the large pirate ship prop, looking for all intents and purposes to be inactive as he was slouched forward, darkened eyes facing downward at the floor between the metal of his exposed limbs.
Mike knew better, of course, and approached slowly before crouching down to be level with the pirate's slumped form.
"I know you're in there, Foxy," Mike asserted quietly.
No response.
"Please, don't do this," Mike sighed, feeling like he was preparing to talk to a sulking child. "I'm sorry, alright? What I said...you know I didn't mean it. Surely you could tell I was practically dead on my feet coming into work last night... I just..." Mike's voice trailed off, unsure of what to say, considering the fact that everything out of his mouth thus far had carried about as much weight as a feather pillow. On some level, he wanted nothing more than to tell Foxy about what had happened with Freddy the night before, but he felt like it would have only been proving the bear right if the first thing he did was run to Foxy for protection. He needed to prove to Freddy, and himself, that he wasn't just using the animatronic as a shield.
"I know you can hear me. It's fine if you're still mad at me, but just say something, anything, please?" Mike pleaded.
Still he received no response.
Mike felt his face heat up as he started to grow agitated.
"You're really just going to ignore me?" he huffed indignantly.
Receiving no acknowledgment whatsoever from the animatronic, who had not budged an inch since Mike had found him, Mike stood and glared down at Foxy with a sour look on his face.
"Fine. When you decide to stop acting like a child, you know where to find me," Mike breathed out, curtly, before heading for the curtains and pulling them open, not even bothering to check if the coast was clear before storming out of the cove and towards the office.
On the main show stage, Freddy Fazbear watched Mike's retreating form with intense interest and a broad smile plastered on his face, unable to suppress a chuckle as he turned to nod at each of his band-mates in turn. It was time.
Mike wasn't surprised in the slightest when he found the main stage to be completely vacant shortly after arriving in the office and settling down. He had expected it. What he hadn't expected, nor prepared himself for, was the relentless assault now being waged upon him. The oddly reassuring sounds of metal on metal that would emanate from the kitchen on other nights, signaling Chica's preoccupation elsewhere, were all but nonexistent this night, as it seemed the hulking yellow chicken preferred to spend all her time staring ominously at Mike through the office window instead.
Similarly, Bonnie had hardly left Mike's side, literally speaking, as the rock-n-roll rabbit was to be found skulking right outside the door nearly every time Mike turned on the hallway light, his hand flying for the 'door' switch reflexively before his brain really even had a chance to process the fact that Bonnie was still there.
Freddy, on the other hand...Freddy was different. He was nowhere to be found. While staving off the advances of the bear's cohorts, Mike frantically searched the restaurant's cameras for any sign of him, each time thinking for a moment that he had spotted the elusive animatronic, only to realize that it had been a trick of the light.
Mike was truly beginning to lose his composure. His only saving grace being the fact that, the few times he had spared a glance at Pirate Cove, the curtains remained closed and undisturbed. Mike could barely spare a moment to dwell on what that meant, and yet he couldn't help but worry that Freddy had had something to do with it. Had he done something to Foxy? What if Foxy hadn't been able to hear Mike, after all?
Checking the tablet once more, Mike noticed that it was only 2:45 AM...each minute passing as excruciatingly slow as they had that very first night he had discovered the true nature of this place. Surprisingly, he was still doing very well on power, and had roughly 68% remaining. He knew that if he remained diligent, and if Freddy stayed wherever the hell it was that he was currently lurking, he could do this. He could survive his fifth night at Freddy's.
Of course, overconfidence is a poison that kills in even the smallest doses.
Just as Mike had finished his self-congratulatory pep-talk, he heard the lumbering footsteps of Bonnie approaching from his left once again. With swiftness and certainty, he swatted at the 'door' switch without even bothering to check the hallway light.
Any feelings of certainty crumbled when the door refused to close. Mike's breath hitched in his chest as he smacked the switch repeatedly, to no avail. How was this possible, there was plenty of power remaining! Dread filling him up from the very tips of his toes and up through the tallest hair on his head, Mike glanced around, frantically, searching for a hiding place.
It was then that he saw him. Crouched down beside Mike, staring straight up at him, wearing that sickeningly sweet and simultaneously unsettling grin Mike had come to know, and loathe, was Freddy. It was easily the most horrifying sight Mike had ever beheld in his entire life. Mike's skin crawled and every synapse in his body fired at once as he surged up off of his seat, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the bear as possible, only to back himself, unwittingly, into a pair of large, purple arms spread open wide to receive him.
Mike felt any oxygen he had managed to hold onto forcibly removed from his lungs as the powerful arms clamped down around his torso. His head was spinning and he was starting to see stars swimming in his vision as Freddy stood to his full height before him, nodding slowly before turning and lumbering out of the office and down the hallway with Chica in tow. Bonnie followed along behind them, carrying Mike in front of him with the ease of a small child carrying a beloved toy- and squeezing just as hard. Mike's eyes frantically scanned the scenery as they passed before settling upon Freddy once more. The sluggishness with which Freddy trudged along was in harsh contrast to the demonic speed with which he must have moved to have ambushed Mike the way he did...a grim realization that only fueled Mike's terror as his heart pounded within his chest.
Seeing Pirate Cove come into view, Mike wanted nothing more than to scream for help at the top of his lungs, but each time he tried to make a sound his throat burned and his eyes watered from the lack of oxygen. Was this really how the other guards had died? Had they, in actuality, already been dead long before they were crammed inside a costume filled with a twisted web of machinery? He knew that if he kept going the way he was, he would lose consciousness within minutes, and then it wouldn't really matter what happened after that. In a way, the thought was comforting- being spared the pain of a grisly death by succumbing to the darkness encroaching on his brain as blood cells withered and died from lack of oxygen...
But he wouldn't accept that fate. He couldn't accept it, and he couldn't rely on Foxy to save him this time, either. Instead, Mike forced himself to focus on the singular task of breathing, and pushed all other thoughts from his mind. Taking slow, measured breaths, Mike was able to regain a glimmer of clarity through the fog that had begun to settle in over his brain...just long enough to realize where they were. They were in the hallway leading to the backstage. Mike saw Freddy and Chica turn into the room from the hallway, leaving his field of vision but clearing the way for Mike to see something else...the door to the restaurant's service entrance.
This was his only chance.
Gathering all the strength he could muster, Mike pulled his legs up as close to his chest as he could manage with Bonnie's arms in the way and placed his feet flat against the rabbit's belly. He was only going to get one shot at this. With one final gulp of air, Mike leaned forward and kicked off of the rabbit's body as hard as he could, a thrill overtaking him as he felt Bonnie's grip loosen and gravity take over as he began to fall towards the floor.
Not missing a beat, Mike braced himself for impact, splaying his hands out in front of him to break his fall. Springing up into a sprinter's crouch, Mike evaded Bonnie's clumsy attempt to recapture him and sprinted forward. His goal rapidly approaching, Mike threw himself at the object of his salvation and began fumbling with the handle.
It didn't budge.
Time seemed to stop as Mike glanced down in horror at the doorknob his hand was clasped around.
It was a double-sided bolt.
It required a key to be opened from both sides.
His keys were in the office.
Mike's heart seized in his chest as he felt a presence closing in directly behind him. Whirling around, Mike finally managed to unleash an unearthly scream which he would have been shocked to hear himself produce in any other situation, but at the time seemed entirely appropriate. He was cornered. There was nowhere else to run.
Continuing to scream and thrash wildly as Freddy dragged him by his legs into the backstage area, Mike saw Bonnie and Chica standing placidly on either side of a small wooden table that looked ready to collapse under the weight of the equipment resting upon it. It was then that he noticed it. Of the items resting upon the overcrowded table was an 'unoccupied' Freddy Fazbear suit- his Freddy Fazbear suit. The sight filled the young night guard with a swell of adrenaline fueled hysteria as he thrashed harder in Freddy's vice-like grip, which only tightened in response to his outburst.
As fate would have it, Freddy's ever-tightening grip slipped on Mike's pant-leg, freeing the previously trapped limb and allowing Mike to rear it back before kicking out as hard as he could, coming into direct contact with Freddy's face. Mike's foot was met with a satisfying crunch as Freddy roared and staggered backwards slightly, just enough for Mike to wiggle free of his grip entirely. Mike's attack had not come without cost, however, as he felt a shooting pain lance up his leg as he struggled to get to his feet.
Moving to duck under the table in a desperate bid to bolt for the door, Mike was stopped in his tracks as Chica swooped down on the other side of the table with an ear-piercing screech, thrusting a metal wing forward and clipping his arm, causing a sensation of warmth to grow where the wing had clipped him as blood seeped from the wound. Unflinching, Mike flung himself to the side and attempted to maneuver himself around behind her, only to be grabbed, once again, by a now enraged Freddy Fazbear, his eyes reduced to mere pinpricks of light swallowed by darkness. Clearly finished playing games, Freddy wasted no time in bringing a heavy, furred hand crashing against the side of Mike's skull, dazing him, and effectively putting an abrupt halt to his valiant escape attempt.
Well, at least he had put up a good fight, Mike thought darkly as consciousness fled from him.
I'm sorry, Mom, Dad...
Foxy...
Mike's thoughts were slowly extinguished as his vision faded... the harbingers of his doom morphing into blobs of yellow, purple and brown that flowed together as clarity waned. His hearing was the very last of his senses to leave him as he heard a thundering crash, and one final, unholy shriek that drowned out the remainder of his consciousness, sending him plunging into a dark, silent abyss.
[A/N] ...
