Act 1 – Broken Circuits
Streetlights lit the area up towards Freddy's, the building shadowed and almost hidden by the night sky. Not a soul nearby walked up the sidewalk near the Pizzeria. People always avoided going near there.
Occasionally, a foolhardy passer-by would hear sounds coming from within. Sometimes, screams would be heard. Those stories would almost always be dismissed as superstition, an attempt to bring attention back to the many horrors that had occurred within those abandoned halls.
Ghosts weren't real, after all. But Mike knew that those screams were. Nine months ago, he'd been the one screaming.
He readjusted the duffle bag on his shoulder. He hadn't filled it with much; his pistol was there just for the protection, as well as a few tools. A screwdriver and a wrench. The first couple of nights would be reconnaissance, nothing more.
The rest would come soon after.
Earlier that day, he had paid a visit to his friend Benji, off in the local woods. Benji had moved there soon after his parents passed. Didn't want anything to do with the local population and only ever left his haven for ammunition and the occasional provisions.
His only real connection was Mike.
Benji had been happy to see his long-time friend again but was predictably hesitant when he was told the meaning of the visit.
"You're going back?" Benji had asked him, his eyes wide, "Mike, are you serious?"
Mike had sighed. "What do you want me to tell you, Benji? That I'm stupid? That I'm throwing my life away? Or that I can't get that place out of my head?"
"So what? You're gonna get yourself killed over this, this…vendetta?"
"I hope not. But more people are going to die to those things and I can't just stand back and watch anymore."
"You don't need to do anything." Benji had looked away, his eyes hopeful, "Move in with me. This place is big enough. It'll at least get you away from Freddy's. I've been telling you for years, that place is the reason this town's gone to hell."
Mike had snorted at that. "We both know I'm not much of a hunter, man. Last time you tried to teach me, I fell in a river."
In spite of himself, Benji had smirked at that. "Scared away the rabbits, if I recall."
"And the fish."
They'd laughed together, before both falling silent again.
Finally, Benji had said, "Look, I just don't want you to get yourself killed. I'll give you the ammunition by Tuesday night. But Mike, if you get caught—"
"If I get caught," Mike had interrupted, "I'm bringing the whole place down with me."
So there he was, standing across the street from the place that had destroyed his life. Seven nights of hell, despair, and the closest he'd ever been to death.
He gave a long exhale. Last chance to walk away.
He crossed the street.
As he opened the door to the entrance hall, Mr. Garfield was just stepping out. He was wearing his usual get-up: A three-piece dark brown suit, with a small black boetie on his neck. Garfield must've been pushing into his fifties at the very least and it seemed that with every passing day, he was looking a little worse for wear.
In spite of that, his smile never changed. It sometimes felt like the most genuine thing about him.
"Ah, there you are, sport!" He said cheerfully, shaking Mike's hand. "Your jumpsuit is in the office. Remember: You represent Freddy's and we need you looking like your best!"
Mike looked around passed Garfield, where the hallways were lit by dim party lights hanging from the walls. "Anything changed around here?"
Thoughtfully, Garfield shook his head. "Nothing I can think of. We'll get your contract sorted now, if you'd like?"
Garfield led him over to the paper slip held together by a clipboard, laid against the main desk. Mike already knew what was written; it was just an expanded version of the first phone message he'd received by the closest thing he had to a mentor.
He signed the contract and turned back to Garfield, "Anything else?"
"Nope, that's about it. I'll see you tomorrow, sport! Shift starts in five."
With that, the manager strolled out, leaving Mike on his lonesome.
Five minutes, Mike thought to himself, that should be enough time.
He stepped into the dining area of Freddy's. The animatronics were all lined up on stage, motionless and empty. Behind the curtain to Mike's far-left lay the tattered form of Foxy, hidden in his cove.
Mike thought about every little thing they'd done to him. Finally feeling that anger rising up in him once more, he unzipped the bag and fingered for his pistol.
He stopped himself. "No," He mumbled to himself, "Not now. Soon."
He decided not to step onto the stage. He still didn't quite know how they worked. But no matter whether the upcoming week was going to go the way he envisioned it or not, he still wanted to let himself get that anger off of his chest.
"Well," He raised his voice, just so that he could ensure that the whole gang could hear him, "I can see none of you have changed much. But I guess once you're that ugly, there's no going back, huh?"
"Just wanted to remind you all: Your pizza sucks, your restaurant sucks, and most of all, you four all really suck." He smirked to himself, "I'm honestly surprised that you haven't been hauled off to the scrapyard already, but I guess Garfield just can't get you off his hands."
He looked at Freddy, his eyes piercing. "I can see why you're a bear, Freddy. Certainly fat enough for it. What's the matter? Hibernation come early this year?"
Next was Bonnie. "Jesus Bonnie, you still are just as ugly as I remembered. I honestly cannot tell who decided making you a kid's mascot was a good idea. You'd give the kids nightmares! You've certainly given me nightmares."
The smirk still across his face, he looked at Chica. "The one good thing I can say about this place, Chica, is that at least they've never actually let you cook. Fazbear Entertainment already has missing children and animatronics biting people on their list of controversies. Pretty sure they don't need food poisoning added to that list."
He glanced at the clock. Three more minutes.
"So with that out of the way, I'd recommend staying away from me, but I know that isn't how any of you work. So I'll say this instead." He gave his biggest, most convincing confident smile he could muster. "Bring. It. On."
He started walking away, but just as he passed the cove, he stopped and said, "Oh, and Foxy? Break a leg. Or two. Because by the end of this week, I'll break 'em myself."
With that, he walked down the hallway towards the security office. It was time for another shift at Freddy's.
Soon after his speech and subsequent departure, Freddy's eyes lit up and the bear blinked.
"Well, that was just rude." He mumbled.
He didn't bother listening to the first tape. He already knew what was going to be said. Memorized it, in fact.
Although it was foolish, Mike had been hoping that his little speech would've riled them up a bit. Got them to be more active from the get-go. To his chagrin, it wasn't until 3am when Bonnie finally got moving.
He spent the first couple of hours going through the occasional detail. He noticed that the gigantic vent cover just outside his right door had eight screws holding it in place. He didn't have the right screwdriver with him, but he could easily get his hands on one before the next shift.
The second detail he noticed was the fact that none of the rooms he'd seen in person had a similar opening. Which likely meant that wherever the vent was connected to, if it was connected at all, it had to be the kitchen.
Thinking about that small mystery, he wondered what was in the kitchen. Did Garfield demand that it was to be cleaned, in spite of the lack of use? Or had it collected dust over the years? When was the last time it was even used?
None of those questions would be answered today, but Mike had a feeling the time was coming ever closer.
When Bonnie finally started moving, Mike sat back in his swivel seat and looked through the screen of the company laptop. The occasional glare would be shot by the other two on stage, but that had lost its scare value long ago.
For the rabbit's part, he traveled between the usual route of stepping into the backstage room to give the occasional death stare, stepping into the dining hall, and would rarely start to directly go towards where his prey awaited.
Finally, sometime after 4am, he made his move.
It was an easily blockable attempt. Barely made it down the hall before Mike took and glance out, spotting the rabbit in the darkness. Mike gave him a wave before shutting the door.
It wasn't like power was an issue; he'd barely depleted a quarter of it.
Bonnie glanced through the glass separating the office from the hallway before trudging off back towards the dining hall.
Mike frowned at that. Usually, the rabbit would stick around a bit longer, trying to use up Mike's power by keeping the door shut. Had he struck a nerve?
No, Mike thought to himself, they've got something planned.
He watched through the laptop for a bit, making sure that none of the others were moving. To his annoyance, Foxy was poking his head through the curtain.
"Well, two out of four ain't bad," Mike grumbled, before glancing at the door and seeing a shadow coming down the left hall.
Bonnie was still insisting on trying him. Before Mike had even gotten to the door, the rabbit turned and left.
Feeling somewhat disappointed, Mike switched back to the Pirate's Cove camera.
His stomach dropped. For the first time since stepping back into the role of Night Guard, Mike felt genuine fear.
He leaped for the door, slamming it down with a thud. Just before Foxy was able to bring his ugly mug over to the office, the door slammed in his face.
Mike sucked in a few breaths before forcing himself to smirk. Foxy hammered at the door for a couple of seconds before jogging back to the cove.
Shaking his head, Mike sat back down on the chair and calmed his nerves. He played it a little too close, there. He wasn't nearly prepared enough for his ultimate goal and getting into a shootout this early with the animatronics would be rough at best, deadly at worst.
Checking through the cameras again, Mike looked at each of the animatronics. Freddy had barely moved an inch, having only turned his head once that night to look at the camera. The bear hadn't even left the stage on Mike's first week until the third night and that was only in the closing hours of that relatively quiet shift.
As he'd expected, Foxy had returned to his cove, where he remained hidden behind the curtain. It was unusual that Foxy had been so active right from the get-go, but the pirate had never seemed to work with the others. Bonnie and Chica had always merely been distractions; the muscle to keep the Night Guard's attention off the main threats.
Chica herself was probably the least-active animatronic, in Mike's opinion. She only ever started to move later on, almost always after Bonnie had long since gotten his fair share. She tended to drift between the rooms on the east side of the pizzeria. At that point in time, she was in the restrooms, glaring up towards the camera.
As for Bonnie, the rabbit had been the first to move on almost every single one of Mike's shifts. He wasn't much of a threat on his lonesome, but his ability to divert Mike's attention had always led to some problematic situations.
At that point in time, Bonnie was hanging around the dining area. He was looking straight at the lens of the camera, as always trying some useless attempt at intimidating—
—something caught Mike's eye. He blinked, looking at the floor of the dining hall. A squared red-and-blue tiled space, it was usually kept in decent condition. That night, it seemed to be even better. Clean, shiny, and reflective.
That was probably why Mike spotted it. It was barely visible, but it was still there. The unmistakable reflection of Foxy's head and hook, on the far-right side of the dining hall's camera.
The moment his hand hit the door button, he knew just how close he was to getting caught. Bonnie had been just outside his door, moments away from stepping inside. He decided not to leave any doubt in his mind and closed the other door as well, not wanting Chica to take the opportunity either.
He breathed slowly, pulled up any courage left in his bones, and smirked through the glass at Bonnie, who was standing there glaring through the glass.
"I didn't think it was possible." Mike remarked, shaking his head mockingly, "Somehow, you're even more ugly up close and personal."
Bonnie looked at him, looked down the hall, and walked away without a second glance.
Mike snorted as he did, "What? Gone so soon? Don't know whether to be hurt or relieved."
Once he was sure he was gone, Mike sat down and put his hands on his face, cursing himself for almost allowing the rabbit on succeeding to early on. Somehow, someway, Bonnie had frozen the camera.
It had been Foxy he'd seen. Foxy less than a minute before, attempting his run-in. Had it been Foxy and not Bonnie, the fox would've easily gotten into the office before Mike would've known what hit him.
He shook his head and glanced at the clock. It was close to the end of his shift and he had a feeling that this was only the beginning of a very bad week.
I appreciate the responses so far.
HurricaneFox: Already talked to you in a private message, but to anyone else with a similar question, yes: I am the same writer who's tried to write this story several times over the last seven years. Here's hoping this one will go better.
vaetta: Sure do hope so. I'll try to update as regularly as possible.