Freddy Fazbear's Pizza
3:27 AM
Another night at Freddy Fazbear's. The sole, grimy light bulb in the center of the ceiling of the security office had been turned off, and only a soft, blue glow emitted from the center of the room.
In front of the glow was Mike Schmidt with his ever-trusty security laptop, providing his only source of light, along with his only source of keeping tabs on the rest of the building.
Mike tapped the screen once, cycling to the camera to the supplies closet. Static filled the screen for a brief moment before the cameras switched, showing only another barely-functioning light bulb along with an assortment of brooms. He wondered why he even bothered checking it; only the rabbit ever went in there, and even then, only rarely.
Before he could press the screen again, a loud clang of metal hitting the floor sounded to his right. He looked up toward the door, then back to the camera as he switched to the kitchen. The camera gave him only a black screen with the words:
-CAMERA DISABLED-
AUDIO ONLY
He could hear the banging of pots and pans, kitchen cabinets opening and closing, and what even sounded like the stove being turned on. Chica was in there for certain, doing God-knew-what. Mike sighed and pressed the screen again, going to the West Hall camera.
The hallway was empty. Only the checkered floor and creepy kid's drawings showed up on frame, so Mike—
"Wait a minute," he breathed. At the end of the hallway he could always see those glow-in-the-dark stars that were stuck on the walls, yet one of them was mysteriously missing.
Something was standing in front of it.
He didn't have to ponder the mystery for long when the figure sprinted ahead, hook raised and mouth agape. The fox closed the distance to his office with incredible speed. Before Mike even had time to look away from his camera, it was already at the door.
The animatronic leaned into the office, its metal jaw opening at an impossible angle as its unearthly screech pierced Mike's skull.
"Shit!" Mike screamed, jumping out of his chair. The chair was knocked over as the guard flew out of it, one armed raised over his eyes as he hit the floor.
The room was deathly quiet, save for the tiny desk fan as it futilely attempted to cool the stuffy pizzeria.
Then, laughing. Grinding, metallic laughing that echoed through the entire building.
"Yar har har har har!" Foxy bellowed, his metal mouth opening and closing with the guffaws.
Mike pulled away his arm and grabbed the desk for support. "Goddamnit Foxy," he muttered as he pulled himself up.
Foxy mimed the act of brushing away a tear with his hook as he answered in a hollow, glitchy voice. "O-oh, I don't fathom that's ever g-g-goin' t' get old. "
When he was back up, Mike picked his overturned swivel chair and sat back on it, looking up at the mascot that towered over him. "Maybe to you."
Foxy shrugged, his eyelids partly closing. "Oh, don't b-b-be on about that, lad. Remember how fun t' first time was?"
Mike rolled his eyes; that was a memory he could have gone without.
It was his 2nd week at Pizzeria when it happened. According to the manager, he had stayed on longer than any of the previous guards, an achievement he wasn't particularly proud of. Still, he needed to pay the rent, and whether he liked it or not, there weren't many opportunities around. At that point he had even gotten slightly cocky, thinking he'd basically figured out the patterns to all four of the robots. All for naught when Foxy rushed him as soon as the shift started, getting into the office and screaming so loud Mike thought his heart had stopped.
After several minutes on the floor with his eyes shut, he realized he wasn't dead or being dragged off to be stuffed in some suit. When he opened them, all four of the robots were standing over him.
Freddy picked him up, dusted him off, and explained to the terrified guard they had been attempting to chase him away, like they had every guard for the last five years, so they could be left alone at night. However, Mike's refusal to quit along with Foxy and Chica's admittance they'd even grown sort of attached to him, forced the truth out.
Mike was thrilled he wasn't going to die, but still had objections over them apparently killing the previous guard that had left him messages on the phone, which was solved when Freddy did a perfect imitation of the call Mike had gotten on the first night. Usually by the fifth night, them "murdering" phone guy was enough to scare everyone else off.
So, the robot's dispositions toward him improved considerably, although Foxy still wasn't above charging the office and scaring the shit out of Mike for laughs.
"I'mma be guessin' that Scallywag's been t-t-tellin' ya 'bout tomorrow, aye?" Foxy asked as Mike picked the laptop back up. Scallywag was how Foxy referred to Freddy Fazbear; it made sense, considering how Foxy was Freddy's "nemesis" in the pizzeria's promotional material.
Mike shook his head. "I haven't talked to Freddy all night. What's this about tomorrow?"
Foxy leaned on the doorway. "Yar. Well then, 'bout every f-f-five months, we be goin' offline fer a whole day or so to run d-d-d-D-d-diagnosticin'. 'Tis automatic n' everything, so thar be not much we can do 'bout it."
"So...?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Startin' around five, we be turnin' off. Won't come back on until 'bout five on th' 'm-m-morrow."
"And?"
"It means you'll be alone the whoooole night, Mr. Schmidt!" a trill, tinny voice sounded from behind him. Mike spun around to see Chica in the doorway with a stale breadstick in one of her metallic hands. She bit down on it, most of the crumbs simply spilling out of her mouth.
"Don't mean t-t-to scare ye or nothin'," Foxy continued, "but this place can be gettin' a measure timber-shiverin' at night."
"...Really."
Foxy put down his eyepatch."Sarc-c-casm be for landlubbers, ye know." He looked up at the digital clock on the back wall of the office. "Well, I b-best be shovin' off now," he said, turning about and walking back to Pirate's Cove, all the while humming a sea shanty to himself.
Mike turned around to Chica. "You going back too?"
The chicken crushed the rest of the breadstick with her secondary set of teeth. "You kidding? I still got another hour and a half's worth of eating!"
Chica headed back to the kitchen, leaving Mike alone once again. With nothing else to do, he continued his cycling through the camera. Freddy was standing around in the Dining Area, prompting Mike to switch to the backstage camera. The screen was immediately filled with a wide and menacing set of teeth.
"Nice try, Bonnie," he muttered, switching to another camera.
4:56 AM
The night continued apace, with everyone except Chica eventually returning to their daytime positions. He could still hear the chicken clanging around in the kitchen, probably trying to get some last-minute eats in. When it hit 4:59, the kitchen suddenly fell deathly silent. He switched to the West Hall camera just in time to see her running at full speed back to the stage area. At the end of the hallway she tripped, her bulky frame hitting the ground with a deafening smash. She recovered surprisingly quickly, bounding up to the stage and assuming her normal pose with only seconds to spare.
Mike looked back at the clock. 5:00 AM. He stared at the stage for a while, but none of the trio moved.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his flashlight and slowly walked out into the East Hall, towards the dining area. Once there, he scanned the room once with the light, checking once again to see if they had changed position. If this was a setup to some dumb prank, he silently swore he'd turn them into scrap.
All three of the band were still locked in their poses, ready to play music and dance for the daytime crowd as soon as they were finished doing their diagnostic. Mike made his way onstage and waved a hand in front of Freddy with no reaction. He shrugged, then moving over to the Pirate's Cove and poking his head inside the curtains. Sure enough, Foxy was there, sitting down. Mike braved poking his nose to try and get a rise out of him, but like Freddy, the pirate did nothing.
"Huh. Guess you were telling the truth," Mike said. He turned around and headed back to the office, somewhat grateful that at least the night wouldn't have any more surprises.
After another hour, the 6 o' clock bell rang to signify his shift was over. He went for the main exit and saw the manager's car parked out front. A squat, pale man with a cheap suit was already stepping out, and he beamed with he made eye contact with Mike.
"Hey hey hey, there's my star employee!" the manager said excitedly as he walked toward the tired guard. "So I came early to tell you that tonight might be just a tiny bit different than what you're used to."
"That right?"
The manager nodded. "Yesiree! See, Freddy and his gang shut down about every five months to do a sort of self-scan...thing. Sadly, that means they won't be playing today. They'll also be really still tonight, so be careful around them, okay? Don't want them tipping over or anything."
Mike almost told him that he already knew, but stopped himself lest it invite questions. Not that it mattered; he was pretty sure the manager either knew Freddy and co. were alive but never said anything, or was in denial about it.
"I'll keep that in mind, sir."
The man clapped his hands together and gave Mike a nervous smile. "Neat! Alright then, have a good night tonight!" he said, walking past him and into Freddy Fazbear's.
Mike gave the pizzeria a sideways glance before walking off. He could already see the lights being turned on and hear the godawful music starting to play on the PA system. He turned back, shaking his head as he walked off.
"Knew I should have finished high school."
[Author's Note: God help me, I'm actually writing a FNAF fanfic. Reviews appreciated and such.]