Silent Nights

Mike Schmidt was bored.

It was petty of him, really; after everything he'd gone through, nights without the animatronics trying to tear his doors down should've been bliss.

Yet here he was; staring blankly at the clock, watching the minute hand go around and around and around…

It was mind-numbing. His eyes went away from the clock and towards one of the bulky monitors on his desk. Through the monitor, he saw his reflection. He looked better than he had only a few months prior, though maybe that was due to having actually showered consistently.

He sighed. Away from the vanity and back to the boredom.

It was the start of his third week back at Freddy's. His second night no longer fighting off killer robots. Summer had gone and it'd been replaced by Fall; Mike did not like Fall. Too dreary and too morbid. The sign that the world would be plunged into coldness within a couple of months.

Spring was Mike's favorite time of year. A sign of new life, of new beginnings. That was all he wanted; to be able to get away from his past both before and after Freddy's and find happiness. Instead, he was back to working behind a desk, bored out of his mind.

For what seemed like his usual passage of time, he found his mind lingering back onto the animatronics. Not on how they'd tried to kill him; no, as bored as he was, he still didn't miss it that much. He instead thought back to the very few interactions he had with them since their uneasy truce had been established.

They were few and far between; he'd not said maybe a few words to either Chica or Bonnie. Freddy had been polite and courteous, though the bear seemed to be intending to give the night guard as much space as he needed. The only one that Mike interacted with on a common basis was Foxy.

At first, the fox had shown up spontaneously, usually running down the hallway. Naturally, Mike hadn't taken well to that and after a quiet conversation between the fox and the bear, Foxy had been sure to signal Mike before going to visit him and walking to the office rather than running, but to Mike's bemusement, Foxy seemed agitated going so slowly.

They usually talked through the doorway of the office. Mike had even trusted himself enough to keep the door open on a couple of occasions. However uncomfortable Mike would sometimes get, both from the uneasy relationship he still had with the robots and the fact that he just wasn't a people person, he had to admit that those conversations were easily the best part of his shift.

Perhaps he'd come around some time that shift, although Mike doubted it. It was less than an hour away until six am and Foxy seemed to be keeping to himself that night. Still, Mike thought to himself, you never know when he'll come knocking and say—

"Um," A voice spoke quietly outside his left door, "Mr. Schmidt?"

Mike jumped banging his knees on the desk and howling in pain. His face full of cringe, he turned to the voice, half-expecting a guilty-looking Foxy to be standing there.

Instead, it was Bonnie, who was wide-eyed. "Sorry! I didn't mean to—"

"It's…fine…" Mike breathed out, the pain in his knees certainly not, "What's wrong?"

"It's just…" Bonnie started to say nervously, "There's a man."

Mike blinked at that. "What? What do you mean?"

"Freddy spotted him. He arrived a few minutes ago. He's been watching the pizzeria."

With a confused scowl on his face, Mike's thoughts were muddled. "But it's raining."

"I know."

"Like, really badly."

"I know."

"And what? He's just standing there?"

"Yes."

"Does he have an umbrella? Or a coat?"

"I…I think he has a coat. A long one. But no umbrella."

"Is the coat waterproof?"

Bonnie blinked, "I don't…I don't know."

"Well, does it have a hood or anything?"

"I think he has a hat."

Mike shrugged, then sat back in his chair. "Then don't worry about it."

"Why?"

"If the guy went around in the weather we're having without an umbrella or a decent coat, then he's an idiot. Whatever his intentions are…"

Bonnie nodded, "That's a fair point. Understandable. It's just…"

"What?"

"Well, if he isn't planning on going away and he comes to knock on the door…"

Mike sighed, feeling sorry for looking a gift horse in the mouth and wishing the boredom away, "Then one of the robot mascots coming to answer the door might be a bit suspicious, yeah."

"We can just ignore him if you want?"

"No, no, might be a journalist or something. I'll just tell them to come back later."

As Mike got up, that niggling paranoid part of his brain was bugging him. As unlikely as it was so late in, was it possible that they were deliberately trying to lure him out from the safety of his office? If that was indeed the case, it seemed so…well, amateurish. Both for the animatronics to attempt it and for him to fall for it.

Still, if what they were saying was true and there was a visitor there, what did Mike really have to lose by greeting them? If it was some kind of crackpot wanting to prove his theories, wouldn't the night guard answering the door at the time when the animatronics were apparently hostile dispel those theories?

Even if it didn't, what did Mike have to lose? Wasn't like he was responsible for what happened to Freddy's.

Sighing once again, Mike nodded. "Alright. Let's get going."

Bonnie seemed grateful. "We'll all stand back, give you as much room as you need. Freddy's watching the door at the moment."

Mike blinked, "You don't think the guy might have spotted either of you two?"

Hesitantly, Bonnie shook his head, "The rain's coming down quite strong and the window's really misty."

"Then how did you two see him?"

Bonnie banged his fist against his head a couple of times, "X-ray vision."

"Wait, really?"

"No," Bonnie answered before walking off.

Blinking, Mike snorted a chuckle and got up, sighing as he did. His mind wandered over the small details he'd been presented with about their mysterious visitor. He couldn't help but think that maybe he was right about it either being a journalist sent to review the details over the incident two weeks ago or if it was merely some conspiracy theorist loitering around.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was someone wanting to follow the footsteps of the robbers from two weeks ago and actually point a gun in Mike's face.

Stepping out of his office, Mike quickly caught up with the rabbit, who had gone quiet. Not knowing whether it was due to the guilt of what he'd done or the tension that carried over from the insults Mike had thrown his way, the Night Guard had no intention of breaking the ice.

Even if, in spite of his best efforts, he did feel bad about it.

Soon enough, they entered the dining area. The room, its usual pitch-blackness only opposed by Mike's easily adjusting eyes, was empty aside from a lone figure standing near the stage. Chica was near the restrooms, concern in her eyes, and Foxy poked his head out of the cove to acknowledge Mike before retreating once again.

Freddy's eyes never left the front door. An unmoving suspicion in his scowl only made Mike worry; whatever the bear was thinking, it clearly wasn't a desire to throw out the red carpet. He was defensive and he was worried.

But why?

Stepping closer to the bear, Mike glanced out the front door's window. He could barely see a figure standing there.

"What do you think?" Mike asked quietly, just enough for the bear to hear.

Freddy didn't look away, "There's someone out there."

"I know. Bonnie told me."

"He's been moving around. Looking over the whole building. But he's always stopped there, taken something out, and then repeated."

Mike bit his lip, "How long has he been here?"

"Twenty minutes. Give or take."

The figure took something out of his pocket and Mike was getting increasingly worried. "Do you think he's seen you?"

Freddy hesitated, "I don't know. I don't think so. If he did, I don't think he'd immediately think that a sentient robot was the thing he was seeing, much less a killer robot."

With a sigh and an acceptance of what he had to do, Mike nodded, "Only one way to find out."

Finally, Freddy looked at him, "Are you sure? If he's dangerous—"

"Don't worry," Mike interrupted him, "I'm not stepping out in the rain to confront some loon. I only just got these shoes."

Freddy hesitated again, then nodded, "What do you want us to do?"

"Stay on the stage and don't move. If he is dangerous, it's probably better for me to just lock the door and call the Police."

Turning to look at the others, Freddy said, "You heard the man. Resume positions and don't do anything to expose us."

Bonnie and Chica returned to the stage, with Chica giving Mike a quick glance, "Be careful."

Mike gave her a nod before turning back to the door. He approached it slowly, his eyes struggling to see through the mist. Was the figure still there? He could see vague shapes through the rain, but it could have just been a couple of lampposts, for all he knew.

He reached the door and looked through the window.

Nothing.

He quietly cursed, his eyes darting around the driveway, trying to catch any signs of movement. How had the figure just vanished like that? Did he know he was being watched? The night guard knew that the view couldn't have been any better on the other side, but even so—

—Movement.

Mike cursed aloud this time when the figure suddenly came from the side of the door, right up close to the window only inches away from Mike's face. Stepping back, Mike struggled to catch his breath, seeing the figure clearly now. He was wearing a large brown trench coat that was soaked in the rain and a wide-brimmed fedora sat on top of his head.

His face was barely visible, but there was no denying that he was definitely male. The man raised his arm to the door, a gloved hand up by the window. Mike's breath grew short again, thinking he had a gun, but his hand was empty.

The man tapped his hand against the door.

Knock, knock.

Blinking and confused, Mike gulped his nerves down and fumbled in his pockets for the keys. He steadily unlocked the door, before pulling it open, the door battered by the rain and from the lack of maintenance.

"Hello?" Mike kept his voice steady, the wind and the rain overbearing in noise, "I'm sorry, sir, but we're closed. Could you please come back in the morning?"

The man smiled, before reaching his hand back into the large trench coat, into the inside coat of his black striped suit. Mike's chest grew tight again, his mind projecting the many horrors that were about to happen.

Gracefully, the man brought out the object in his suit jacket: A Police Badge, bronze and new, before displaying it to Mike.

"Detective's department, sir," The man said, a light accent Mike believed to be Scottish lacing his words, "Been sent to investigate Freddy Fazbear's Pizza after the incident from a couple of weeks ago. I've got a warrant if that helps?"

Mike blinked, his mind numb and struggling to comprehend what was happening. The Police? Here to investigate? Mike had been told that as far as the Police were concerned, the leads from the incident from weeks ago had run into a dead end.

"Mind if I step in for a bit?" The detective asked, "Been raining on the way here and my coat's getting soaked."

Catching his voice, Mike cleared it, "Um, yeah, sure Detective. Sorry. Come on in."

"Thank you," The detective said before stepping in, "Name's Caine, by the way. Detective Caine."

Mike nodded, "Mike. Just…Mike."

The two walked into the main hall of the pizzeria, dark and dreary. As if he was analyzing everything he could see, the detective narrowed his brown eyes as he glanced throughout the dining area. His hair was brown; not like Mike's, which was a lighter shade, but rather dark, almost black.

"Mind giving me your full name?" The detective asked,

Mike didn't really want to, but he decided that it wouldn't help matters by being evasive, "Michael Schmidt."

The detective looked at him, "Name rings a bell. You were the Night Guard involved in the incident, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"A bit strange of you, coming back so soon."

"I don't really like sitting out of action for too long."

Caine nodded, "Workaholic? I can relate."

"Maybe. Not much else in my life and I got bills to pay."

"That helps, too."

They reached the middle of the dining area, where the shadows of the animatronics stretched across the room. Caine kept his eyes on the robots, an undeniable suspicion in his glare. If he was a local, he'd no doubt heard the rumors and superstition. Otherwise, someone must have told him.

"If you don't mind, Detective," Mike asked steadily, "Why are you here? The last thing I heard, the Police didn't have any leads."

Caine nodded, "That's the general consensus, yeah. Little to no evidence and no suspects. As far as the others are concerned, this case is a dead end."

"Exactly," Mike continued, hoping that his intrigue would mask his concern, "so what's changed?"

"Nothing's changed. The official story is that there's no reason to suspect it was anything more than a bungled robbery."

Mike bit his lip, "What do you think, then?"

Caine turned to look at Mike, his eyes hard, "I was never one for official stories. Neither is my department."

"Well, what else could it have been? I mean, what? You think it might've been for another reason?"

Caine approached the stage of the animatronics, his back to Mike, "People don't just vanish, Mr. Schmidt. A group of armed gunmen, breaking into a desolate pizzeria and shooting the place up? There'd be more than a story of how it happened and a dead end. Bullet cases, fingerprints, CCTV recordings…this isn't the wild west."

Mike shrugged, "People go missing all the time."

"True. Which is why another dead-end case relating to this one…left some questions."

With that one sentence, Mike's chest got tighter. He knew exactly where this was going and he had no idea how to give an answer that would not simply be dismissed or raise suspicion.

"It started with a few minutes of file-reading. Minutes turned to hours. Do you know how many people have gone missing in this town, just in the last year?"

"No."

"Thirty-seven." Caine turned to look at Mike, "Yet all of them had something. Family members, a description. People do go missing all the time. But do you know what they don't?"

Mike struggled to keep his face neutral, "No idea."

"They don't just fabricate out of nowhere."

Knowing that he didn't have a decent rebuttal to that, Mike looked away. Continuing to look around the pizzeria, Caine turned his eyes back to the Night Guard, his tone going back from serious to polite.

"So that's why I'm here. They want an official close to the case, so I'm going to conduct a semi-off-the-books final investigation. If I don't find anything, I'll leave you be."

The detective started walking away and after a brief stint of hesitation, Mike decided to follow him. "So what are you looking for?"

Caine didn't seem to have any intention of answering. "What do you know about the pizzeria?"

"Not much. It's been around for twenty years, something like that. Got closed some time ago, though only to the public."

"Yet it's still here?"

Mike gave a shrug, "The manager, Mr. Garfield, is a bit eccentric. I think he holds some…sentimental value towards the animatronics. Doesn't want them to be hauled off, I guess."

"Charles Garfield?"

"Yeah, that's him. You know him?"

"We've run into each other before. You're spot on with the description. How long you've known him for?"

"Since I…since I joined up."

"When was that?"

Mike closed his eyes. He had to answer honestly here, but he knew what it could lead to, "Since November, last year."

With a smooth turn, Caine looked directly at Mike. The night guard tried not to make eye contact, but the detective's piercing eyes made him want to run away. Whatever the detective was looking for, he continued without making it aware if he'd found it.

"What about the animatronics?"

This was going to be the hardest part, "What about them?"

"Indeed, what? What is it about these robots that have sparked so much…chaos?"

"You're…going to have to be a bit more specific."

"Well, let's start with the facts, I guess? The incident from two weeks ago. Getting themselves in such disrepair. The fact that they can apparently move around on their own, from what I've heard, suggesting so sort of autonomy." Caine gazed at the animatronics, "What little I've heard of the 'Bite'."

"Then there are the parts shrouded in speculation, but it still raises interest. I'm sure you've heard the rumors."

Mike tried his best to smirk, "I've never put much stock into superstition."

"But you have heard of them?"

"What, the story about the ghosts? The stories about the man-eating robots? Or the one where they prowl around, stealing children at night?"

Caine stopped and looked at him hard, "Five children went missing, Mr. Schmidt."

Mike hesitated, "I'm just saying that this town has a lot of stories. It's like you said; there's a big difference between fact and fiction. Think about it; if they hold any water," He gestured to the animatronics, "You'd think they would be doing something other than standing there, right?"

Looking back to the animatronics, Caine's scowl returned. "Maybe."

Without a single warning, the Detective changed his focus towards the back of the room. Quickly realizing that his target was Pirate's Cove, Mike quickly hurried to catch up with him.

"Pirate's Cove has been off-limits since I arrived," He quickly explained, "The animatronic in there is damaged, I think."

Caine didn't look back at him, "I want to see him for myself."

He pulled back the curtain slightly, just enough for both of them to peer into. Right at the back of the cove, Foxy sat there without a spark of life in him. His head was facing the ground, slightly tilted. Mike breathed in when he realized what it reminded him of; Golden Freddy, slouched on his office floor.

Did the animatronics even know about Golden Freddy?

"What do you know about him?" Caine murmured,

Hesitating, Mike chose his words carefully, "I'm not sure. He was…a side attraction, I guess? Not entirely connected to the band, but no quite separate. I know he had some kind of…shanties singing part or story-telling parts."

"But what do you know about the incident?"

Mike blinked, "Which one?"

Caine never took his eyes off Foxy, as if he was expecting him to jump up and attack, "I haven't been in town for very long. But I've heard the stories. The urban legends, and what-not. Including the 'Downfall of Freddy Fazbear's'."

Mike nodded, knowing what he was leading into, "You're talking about the Bite, aren't you?"

"Aye, that's the one. 'The Bite of '87'. I can't find a clear answer on the incident itself, or even who the perpetrator was. Most I could find was a few conspiracy articles and one news article about the aftermath."

"You think there was a cover-up?"

"Must've been. You occasionally get a few less-than-ethical businesses managing to get away with their misdeeds, but it tends to be a couple of decades afterward. The Bite, if it even happened, wasn't even ten years ago."

Mike looked at him incredulously, "'If'? You're not saying you think it never happened, right?"

"Oh, no. I wouldn't be surprised if it was true. But stranger things have happened. Might've been a parent wanting to get back at the company. Might've been a stunt. But if it did happen," He gestured at Foxy, "I'd imagine he was the culprit."

Caine turned away slightly just as the slightest movement betrayed the illusion. Ever-so-slightly, Foxy's eye turned to look at them. Mike, horrified, tried his best not to scream in rage. He looked at the Detective, but whether or not Caine had seen the movement wasn't made clear.

Without so much as a second thought, Caine turned and walked away. Mike scowled at Foxy before hurrying up to join him.

Why? Why had the fox done something so stupid? Mike seethed with rage, trying his best not to allow Caine to notice.

Checking the tables, Caine seemed to be looking for something. He delicately pulled one of the chairs out and sat down, before looking back at Mike and gesturing towards the opposite chair.

"Please," He said, "Sit. I'll be done soon, but I need a few more words with you."

Hesitating, Mike did as he was told and sat down. He tried his best to maintain eye contact but worried his rising fluster would get the better of him.

"Now, tell me again what happened two weeks ago?"

"Well," Mike rubbed his head, "I can't remember much. I got hit in the head pretty bad."

"The tell me what you do remember."

"It must've happened…two or three am? I was just doing my rounds, you know? It seemed like just a normal shift."

"Just like any," Caine offered.

"Exactly. But around midway through my shift…I spotted one of them. Just outside Pirate's Cove. Could barely see them."

"Then what?"

"Well, I panicked. Went to shut the door. One of them had just gone down the hallway and was nearly at my office. He must've…fired a few shots off."

"And then?"

"Then I shut the other door. Waited around for a bit. But the generator in this place is worthless. Power ran out quickly and both doors opened."

"Why does a children's pizzeria have two doors to the security office, where they're both giant slabs of metal?"

Mike didn't have an answer for that. "Beats me. I've never worked a different security job outside of this place."

"But you thought it unusual?"

"Of course."

Caine nodded, "Apologising for interrupting. Go on."

Well, power ran out and they came up to the office. Guess they were disappointed to find no cash lying around the place. I was able to sneak out through the vent, just down the hallway."

"Is there a phone in your office?"

"Yeah, but only incoming calls."

"Peculiar."

Mike shrugged, "They cut back costs. The only other phone in the building is in the manager's office. There was no way I'd get there in time, so I just tried to hide. Then there was a…a shootout, I guess? Animatronics apparently went into "defense" mode or something like that."

"And how did you injure your head?"

"I tried to run. Must've gotten hurt doing so. Then I fled to the restrooms. Fell unconscious there."

"Strange," Caine said, "So you believe that the animatronics can fight armed gunmen, but have you ever seen them move before?"

"Sometimes."

Caine didn't speak. He simply gazed at Mike, analyzing him. Eventually, he smiled.

"I appreciate your time, Mr. Schmidt. I'm going to start doing some research and I'll likely be back here soon. Are you working every night of the week?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll see you again by Friday night. Until then, have a good one and stay safe."

Mike nodded, "Same to you."

With that, Caine got up, walked to the front door, pulled his coat back on, and stepped out into the rain. Eventually, he vanished from sight.

Mike sighed and was startled to find that the time had already passed 6 am. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to talk to the animatronics until his next shift, he rubbed his face and went to the office.

"This is bad," He said to himself.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: Aye, it was lucky they had his back. But you're right; forgiveness isn't going to be that easy.

TheAmberShadow: Appreciate the reviews! I'm definitely planning on Benji returning at some point. About the thing with the camera; I don't think I quite explained it right, so I'll probably go back and correct the mistake in that, but basically; Bonnie had to be in the frame of the camera for it to freeze. Once he left, there would be a short delay until it would go back to normal. By the time that delay ended, none of them would be fast enough to reach the office and they knew that the 'endo' would react too quickly for them to catch up. Except if Foxy was the one running and Bonnie was sitting in the cove, the camera still frozen. It was one of many other tactics they tried and that time, it worked.

Guest: Honestly, I'd be more surprised if Mike was NOT nutty after working at Freddy's.