November 8, 1993

Mike plopped down in the creaky rolling chair in the security guard office. It was a cramped and dusty room in the back of the restaurant. The place was still covered in cobwebs in the corner. And it was incredibly warm, even for a cool autumn night. Apparently, the room was not even hooked up to the main ventilation. All Mike had was a fan at the table. Okay, definitely not the best working conditions, he thought, but he was not expecting much from a place like this.

One of the benefits he did get was free leftover pizza from the kitchens. It was not great, but pizza was pizza after all. He had snagged a couple of slices of pepperoni and sausage before sitting. He scratched at the collar of his uniform shirt. The starched and pressed uniform was still new and itchy.

The one thing in this room that was not decrepit or falling apart was the little tablet that was meant to be used for the camera feed. Mike had honestly never seen anything like it. Fazbear Entertainment always made sure that its locations had the latest in technology, Jimmy had told him, even if the rest of the location was not up-to-date. Mike powered it on, smirking as the grainy, black-and-white footage showed the main stage with Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica on it.

"Technologically advanced, my ass," he said. Still, he had to admit that while the video quality was terrible, the device itself was impressive. He could press buttons on the screen to see any of the security cameras.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when the phone began to ring. After about the third ring, and his heartrate had gone back to normal, did he remember that Jimmy had told him the phone would do that to play the recorded training messages from the previous security guard.

"Hello, hello?" the voice began. "Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night."

This guy did not sound too professional. Then again, Mike thought, he himself was just a kid. And it was not like this was a top-notch, professional operation. Also, the recording had been made a week ago, according to this guy. Maybe he was glad to leave a dump like this. Lucky him, Mike thought.

The guy started trying to assure him he would be fine. Did he really expect Mike to be nervous about the job? Then again, he did not know who would have been hired for the position.

Mike had started to tune him out as he started reading off a lengthy legal statement. Corporate policy, junk like that. Jimmy had already read him all that when he signed all the paperwork to start.

But then, Mike caught something odd. "Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon as property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced."

What was that supposed to mean? Were there situations that dangerous here? And they would only "do something about it" after they had destroyed all the evidence? That could not be right, Mike thought. Hell, it surely was not legal. This guy was just messing with him, he figured. Just a joke. Some dark humor. This guy worked night shift all on his own. He probably got bored and needed to just play a dark joke for his own amusement.

But then, the strange turns kept coming. Now, he was talking about the animatronics wandering around the building. He did not listen to the technical reason for why it happened. The guy just said these things wandered around the restaurant at night! He quickly checked the cameras again. Not a one of them had moved. Mike chuckled to himself. More dark humor from this guy.

Still, he could not deny the strong sense of unease he was feeling. Maybe it was the seriousness in the guy's tone. Maybe it was how creepy those animatronics did look. Maybe it was being here all alone. Something was making him feel on edge.

Mike had to rewind the tape back when the guy mentioned something about a bite six years ago. Lost a frontal lobe? How did this place stay open after that? Yet...he could not shake the feeling that something felt familiar about all that. But that could not be right, could it? He had never been to this place before. Maybe he remembered hearing about it on the news.

"They'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit."

What? Mike started feeling dizzy now. No longer did this feel like some cruel joke. This was serious stuff. The animatronics walked around and would kill him if they spotted him? What kind of place was this?

Mike checked the cameras again. Everyone was on stage, just as they were at the start of the night. "No, no, no, this can't be," he said to himself. "I'm losing it."

But then, another thought had occurred to him. He had forgotten one thing. "Foxy!" he shouted.

He flipped through the screens until he got to the feed showing Foxy's stage. The curtains were open, but there was no broken animatronic on stage.

"Shit! This is real," Mike shouted.

Mike jumped out of his chair and pushed the buttons near the two doors in the room, causing them to lock. He went back to the cameras. "Okay, where are you?" he muttered, trying to sound tough to steady his nerves.

He practically fell over when he saw a blur dash past one of the hallway cameras, but he hardly had time to react to that. Immediately after he saw the camera, he heard banging and scraping against the door. It was an ear-splitting screech, like metal scraping against metal, like a hook, he realized.

"This is real," he said again. "Oh, my god, this is real. These things are out to kill me."

"I'll chat with you tomorrow," the guy on the phone said, still droning on. "Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary."

"Yeah, no shit!" Mike yelled back. He knew he could not hear him, but something about yelling made him feel better.

"Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night." The phone clicked off.

"Wait...power?"

He noticed that the little tablet displayed a power usage and a power percentage. He still had well over half his power, but he noticed he seemed to be using a lot. "Wait, the doors are part of the limited battery? That's stupid."

But stupid as it was, he knew that if he had any chance of getting throught the night, he would have to open the doors. Mike swallowed hard. The scraping sound had stopped, but that did not mean that something could be waiting for him on the other side of the doors. He checked the cameras again. The three other animatronics were still on the stage. Foxy had somehow wandered back to his spot.

Legs quivering, he opened the doors again, turned on the hallway lights for a second, just to be sure, and collapsed back into his chair.

This was madness, he told himself, a living nightmare. Every logical part of him told him this could not be real, yet there it was. These things, these robots were out for blood, and he was a sitting duck, destined to be their next victim. No, not now, not ever. He would survive this. He was not going to go down without a fight.

Fight with what, though? All he had at his disposal were the doors to keep them at bay, and there was no telling how long they would wait for him. Still, it was better than nothing. Survival was all he had at this point.

"Alright, you bastards, I'm waiting," he said to himself, trying to build up what little courage he had left.

He studied the cameras all night, waiting and watching for their next move. For the rest of the night, things stayed quiet. He noticed Bonnie had moved to the dining area after the stage camera glitched out. "How are you doing that?" Mike muttered to himself.

There were a lot of questions Mike had about this whole situation, and none of the answers made sense. Why was this happening? Mike certainly did not believe the whole "servos locking up" excuse. Why did they bide their time with him? There were four of them and only one of him. They could have easily ambushed him by now. How did they mess with the cameras? There was something odd about that. But more importantly, why did this all feel familiar? Some part of this lingered in his mind. Some part of him felt like he should remember this, should remember this place, should remember these characters. It was something about that guy on the phone, he eventually realized. Did he know him? It was hard to tell with a voice alone.

The night passed agonizingly slow, but at last, he heard his watch beep as it got to six o'clock, the end of his shift. It was not long after that that he heard Jimmy opening the doors and turning on the store lights.

Mike crawled out from his spot under the desk. He saw Jimmy coming down the hall, a rather surprised look on his face. "Ah, Mike, my boy," he said. "Well, I see you're still up. Surprised your first night shift wasn't too hard on you."

"Oh, it was hard enough," Mike said, already feeling the rant he had been practicing all night coming on. "I've got a few things to say about this place. Just what do you people mean by these animatronics wandering around at night?"

Jimmy nervously straightened his tie. "Oh...that. Well, I thought Fritz explained on the phone. It's a technical thing. I don't know all the mumbo-jumbo, but we have to let them do that at night or they lock up during the day."

He threw up his hands. "Oh, and I suppose their murderous tendencies are just standard procedure as well?"

"That's a programming thing. We haven't been able to contact him in years to fix that problem. Look, if you feel like this job is not for you, I understand. We would have to arrange for you to sign a non-disclosure agreement, though."

Mike was about to take up the offer. He should quit, get out of here while he still could. That would be the smart, and more importantly safe, thing to do. It would be easy. His life was not worth a few extra bucks.

But something stopped him. It was that same feeling he had earlier about everything feeling familiar. There was a mystery here, one that was nagging at him. Leaving now would never help him figure it out.

"Actually, I'll be in tomorrow night," he said. "I know what to prepare for now."

This seemed to shock him more. "Um...yes, well, see you tonight when you come in," Jimmy said. "We really appreciate your hard work."

As Mike walked out the door, he stopped at the stage where Freddy still stood, a dopey smile on his face.

"You hear that, you fuzzy bastard? I'm comin' for ya," Mike taunted before leaving.