Night Ten: The Midnight Clear
On the tenth day of Christmas, my boss gave to me…
"Mr. Schmidt, it seems you have fractured a total of ten bones: several ribs, a few vertebrae, your scapula, your cranium, and your humerus. Luckily, they are all very minor fractures, though your concussion is rather concerning. We're going to hold you for twenty-four more hours, just in case, but after that, you should be free to go so long as you take your prescription as instructed."
"Alright."
So exactly twenty-four hours later, Mike finds himself at the very location that started this mess with a bag slung over his back. He can't work tonight. He has specific orders from his doctor not to, so instead, he's doing something unimaginable.
He's delivering presents.
His first stop is the show stage where he sets a carefully wrapped gift down before each animatronic, each white package decorated in colorful ribbon, and refuses to meet Freddy's eyes. He makes sure he winces and clutch his throbbing back. Might as well dig the knife in a little bit. After all, what has Freddy ever done for him?
Then, Mike drops in at Pirate Cove, sliding Foxy's gift under the purple curtain. Afterwards, he makes his way over to the west hall corner, placing the final gift beneath the Freddy poster.
On his way out of the location, Mike pauses, glancing at the bathrooms. He hadn't made something for that weird rabbit, but...he quickly ducks into the office and rifles through the desk drawers. He recalls something that may suit the enigmatic sixth animatronic.
Once this is done, he slides the gift under the safe room door and leaves without so much as a word, going home to pass out on his couch with his painkillers in hand while Christmas specials play on the local TV station.
That evening, five animatronics gather once again in the dining area, bent over the mysterious gifts Mike had brought earlier that day.
"Gorsh! I don't think a night guard has ever been this nice to us before!" Bonnie exclaims, eyes glimmering with anticipation. Freddy huffs, arms crossed. Not put off by the bear's mood, Bonnie rips away the paper to reveal a small jar of guitar picks and a brand new tuner. Bonnie yelps with delight and immediately rushes off to find its guitar, excited.
"Alrights, it's my turn now," Chica proclaims, eagerly tearing at the ribbon with her teeth. It's a copy of the infamous cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. "Oh my goodness! How did he even know I wanted this?" Thus, it runs off to the kitchen to scour the pantry for ingredients.
"You can go, Foxy," Freddy says, stalling. It doesn't want any of that man's gifts. He is a killer after all, just like the rest of the purple men. No better than anyone else. This does not redeem him in the slightest.
"Yar, yar, yar," Foxy replies, rolling its eyes. Freddy can be so stubborn sometimes. Foxy opens the box, peaks into the top, gasps, and closes the gift once more, carrying it off to its smaller stage without sharing it with the rest of its companions. Foxy doesn't know just how Mike found out about this, but it is sure as hell making sure that no one else does.
"...Okay?" Freddy says, confused. Foxy has always been a bit...strange. Whatever.
Golden Freddy decides to open its present next. It knows that Freddy would skip its turn again anyways, so it isn't as if it would be upset about this. But what is inside brings Golden Freddy to tears once more.
it's...me…?
It's an old fashioned Fredbear plushie, the kind with the purple hat and bowtie. They had been discontinued so long ago! How? But it's not just any version of the bear. No, Golden Freddy recognizes this one. This is Mikey's bear. It even has the stain on the side from that time Mikey's older brother dumped it into a puddle...
Swallowing its sadness, Golden Freddy grabs the plushie in its arms and teleports away, leaving Freddy to face its gift alone.
And in its gift is a locket. In one half of the locket, a photo of the five animatronics back in the good old days when everyone was operational sits. In the other half, there is a photo of five hopeful children who never got to realize the future they dreamed of.
Freddy chokes. No, no. This is the night guard. It can't forget that it is the night guard...but the rational side of the animatronic reminds it that Mike is a thoughtful man, forgiving too. And as a grandfather clock in the distant cries midnight, Freddy finds it all so clear: Mike isn't the man they've been looking for.
Two rooms away, behind a locked door, a rotting bunny stares at a child's picture, on old picture—one it hasn't seen in many, many years. In crayon, a yellow rabbit and a yellow bear hold hand and sing together on a tiny stage. The animatronic laughs softly and slowly begins to rip the drawing to shreds.
"They hate me...They hate me not...They hate me...They hate me not...They hate me…"
...ten broken bones, nineteen eighty-seven, eight percent power, seven bucks under minimum wage, six hour shifts, five nights in hell, four phone calls, three band members, two pneumatic doors, and a phantom Fredbear screeching, IT'S ME.