November 9, 1993

"You're...you're, uh, back?" Jimmy said as Mike strode in a few minutes before midnight. He paused, sizing Mike up for a second before continuing. "That's great! We...uh, we really appreciate the help, being so short-staffed and all."

"Save it!" Mike said shortly, already marching towards the office. "I'm here to work, collect my money, and leave. That is it. And no 'free roam' animatronics are gonna stop me from doing that."

Jimmy blinked for a few seconds, taking all that in. He immediately switched back to his very fake smile. Mike could tell he was lying through his teeth. "Fine...yes, of course. All work and seriousness. That's why I knew you were a good fit for the job. And as long as you follow all safety precautions, you will be fine."

Mike laughed. "You keep telling yourself that. Now, what have I got around here to fight these things with?"

Jimmy chuckled nervously. "I don't think you realize, these are expensive pieces of equipment. We can't just turn you loose to break them."

"Even if it's my very human, very mortal life on the line?"

That seemed to break him, if only slightly. Jimmy's tone became harsher. "Look, I think by now, you understand why this job is very hard to hire for. Now, you save your power, and lock the door only when necessary. Either you can do this job or you can't."

Mike glowered at him. "Oh, believe me, you'll definitely hear about it if I can't. I've got people who would miss me if I was gone. People who would sue your ass if anything happened."

Jimmy paled at the mention of a lawsuit, but straightened after a moment. "Well then, let's both hope you can do the job." He left after that.

Mike settled back into the creaky office chair. He hardly got a chance to sit down before the phone went off, playing another message.

"Well, if you're hearing this, and you made it to day two, uh, congrats!"

Yeah, barely, no thanks to you, Mike thought. How could this guy possibly still give these boilerplate instructions as if nothing was wrong. This whole place was messed up. As soon as the guy mentioned checking the cameras," Mike panicked and checked. "Just to make sure everyone's in their proper place, ya know?" he said.

"No! They are not!" Mike shouted back, even though he knew it would do him no good.

Bonnie was already missing from the stage. Thankfully, he had only gotten as far as the dining room. But that still unnerved Mike. It meant the guy was right. They were getting more active. It was also that dead, blank stare Bonnie gave to the camera that made it even more unsettling. It was as if these animatronics knew he was watching them. But that could not be true, right? They were just following their programing to roam and take care of empty endoskeletons. Then again, maybe they were actually capable of sentient thought…

"Uh, also, check on the curtain in Pirate's Cove from time to time," the message continued.

"Yeah, no shit. I learned that the hard way last night," Mike mumbled.

As soon as the message stopped playing, Mike grabbed the phone. He checked the cameras again. Bonnie was still in the dining room. Everyone else was fine. That was good. Maybe he really could do this. He immediately dialed Joanne's number.

"Mike?" she answered with a yawn. "It's late. What are you doing?"

"I promised I'd call you from work tonight. Look, I know you're still having trouble believing me, but I don't know, maybe hearing it for yourself would do something."

"So you can make a bunch of noise over the phone to 'scare' me into believing you?" She sighed, knowing she had hurt his feelings saying that. "Look, I know you're not doing this as some cruel joke, but I think you're going through some stuff, and you think this is the only way to get my attention."

"Joanne, it's not that at all."

"Mike, please listen. I think whatever this is, you need more help than I can give. Look, I don't want to say the word 'therapy,' but there are other ways to find people you can talk to about some of the things you're going through."

Mike sighed, realizing this was getting nowhere. He checked the cameras again. This time, Chica was in the dining room, but no Bonnie. Mike quickly began flipping through the cameras, trying to find him, but nothing. His heart began to race. What did that guy on the phone say? If he could not find someone to try the lights?

He was quick to jump out of his seat, dropping the phone, to check the light. He bolted upright, the hair on his neck standing up as the flickering light revealed Bonnie's face looking at him from the doorway. In his panic, time seemed to stand still. He had never realized how big these things were, now that he was practically standing nose to nose with one. It was almost a foot taller than he was, its wide body blocking the doorway. Those robotic eyes were open all the way, as if in an expression of surprise, like they would fall out of his head if they opened any wider. The smell about knocked him out. It reeked of something rotting, and he had a feeling he was not the first night guard they had intended to hire.

Everything felt as though it was in slow motion. His brain was still processing the danger, but a reaction started in his body, one he was not sure how he managed. He immediately reached for the door button, and it slammed down just as Bonnie's arms started to twitch to life, the mouth starting to open wide.

He collapsed back into the chair, letting his breath catch back up. He had done it. He was safe for now. A muffled sound shook him out of his victory lap. He picked up the dropped phone, Joanne's voice coming back.

"Mike? Are you okay? What happened?"

"Do you really want to know?"

She sighed. "I'm going to try to be open-minded, but if you're going to keep me up all night with this…"

"Uh huh," Mike said, turning the light back on to see through the window.

"Are you really listening?"

"Look, I'm dealing with a six-foot tall purple rabbit just staring at me like it wants to tear me in half. I know better, of course. It wants to stick me in a suit with metal cross beams and wires until my eyeballs and teeth pop out. And right now, the only thing standing between me and it is a steel door and a pane of glass."

"Okay, let's say I believed that. What exactly do you want me to do from here?"

"I don't know, document my last will and testament, hear my last thoughts. I don't know, Joanne. I've got killer robots coming after me, and a familiar voice to hear my last words makes me feel less terrified."

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said, her tone becoming softer. "I really don't know what to do. Why can't you just keep these doors closed all the time?"

All the while, Mike had been compulsively checking the lights until Bonnie finally wandered away. He waited a few seconds before opening the door again. "It doesn't work like that. It'll drain the power here too fast."

"That seems so counterintuitive," she said, "Why would they set the system up like that?"

"Who knows with this place?" Mike said, checking the light on the other side of the room. He jumped seeing the even scarier look on Chica's face watching him. He slammed his fist into the door button on that side. "How the fuck did you get here so fast?" he shouted.

"What now?" Joanne asked worriedly.

"Chicken animatronic on the other door," he said, hoping he sounded calmer and more collected than he felt. "I mean, why the hell does a chicken need teeth?"

At the mere mention of teeth, he started feeling one of his headaches coming on. Now was definitely not a good time for that. The ringing in his ears was starting to make his own teeth rattle. Everything started to feel fuzzy for a moment.

"Mike! Mike, you still there?" Joanne's voice called. "Maybe talking to me is too much of a distraction."

He started to drift back into reality. "No, no it's fine. Actually, hearing your voice is making this a little easier. I just have to keep my head. I know you're still having trouble believing me right now, but having you here helps."

"I wish I could be there right now, just to see what you're seeing. I mean, they can't just let these things roam around and hurt people, even their staff. It has to be illegal."

He continued flipping through the camera feed, only pausing slightly to grimace every time he turned on the light to see Chica's slack-jawed expression looking at him.

"I don't know. Everyone here's been really cagey about the whole thing. I mean, I threatened them with a lawsuit today, but I get the impression this place has covered up shit like this before."

He checked the light again. Chica was finally gone. He gave out a sigh of relief and opened the door. Still decent on power supply, he noted. It was still early in the night.

"You know, maybe there is something you can do," he said, taking a moment to appreciate that for once, everyone was in their place. "You said you know someone who might help."

"Yeah, he's a friend of my brother's. I can give him a call tomorrow. Why?"

He grunted, not liking that Foxy was peeking out from behind his curtain. Never a good sign. "I want to know more about these things. Where did they come from, and who programmed them. There has to be a way to make them stop."

"It would help if we had something to go on."

"I'll see what I can find out in the morning when they stop moving."

He almost missed it for a second. He was flipping through the camera feed so quickly. But one second, Foxy was there near his stage. The next, he was gone. He slammed down the doors again, just in time as the scraping of the hook hit the steel door.

"Okay, now what is that noise?" Joanne asked.

"That would be the third animatronic: Foxy the pirate," Mike said, catching his breath from the short dash to the door. "More aggressive than the others. Starting to believe me?"

"Yes," she said after a minute. "Yes, I do think something is up. But what can we do about it?"

"We'll figure it out as we go. This place is dangerous, but I think if anyone is going to be done about it, we have to do it."

Foxy was back at the curtain, and Mike opened the door. For now, all was quiet. He was going to take advantage of that for as long as he could. "Look, maybe I'd better let you get some sleep. I'm starting to get the hang of this. All I gotta do is survive the night, right?"

"Mike, I'm not so sure. What if something happens?"

"Then would hearing my last screams over the phone make it better? Look, it helped, it really did to hear you, but I can't make you deal with this all night. I'll be fine, really."

He hoped he sounded braver than he felt. Truth be told, he still wanted her there. Just having another human voice was better than listening to the dead silence with the animatronics moving ever closer. "Look, I'll see you at school tomorrow, and we'll discuss a plan from there, okay?"

"Okay, just don't do anything stupid."

"Trust me, I can't afford to be stupid right now."

They both hung up after that. He still had four hours to go at this place, this unending nightmare. It stayed quiet, though, for quite some time. Mike kept checking the cameras, still finding everyone back where they were supposed to be.

"What is your game now?" he mumbled, watching them.

He was certain they were planning something. They could not have just tested him for the beginning of the night and then just left him alone. This had to be some way to lull him into a false sense of security.

It was strange to think of it that way. These robots were really plotting against him? Sounded like something out of those corny, seventies, sci-fi movies. Still, he was almost certain it was more than just trouble with their programming. There was something almost alive about them, in a supernatural way, he thought.

It was nearly four-thirty before he saw movement on the cameras. Both Chica and Bonnie were gone. Looking through the camera feeds and not seeing them, that could only mean one thing…

He rushed to the left door to shut it, only for an annoying buzz to be all that greeted him. Hitting the button again and again, nothing happened other than that dreaded sound. "No, no, no!" he muttered.

He could sense one of them was out there, waiting for the right moment to strike. He tried to get the other door, if anything, to block off one of their entries. But it too would not shut. "You gotta be kidding me!" he shouted.

They were there, waiting for a two-pronged attack. He did not dare turn on the lights to see their horrific faces again. He grabbed his office chair, holding it defensively in front of him. If they came in, he would not go down without a fight.

These things moved fast, but never in a way that Mike could catch them moving, at least not on screen. The only one he had ever seen move on camera was Foxy running down the hall that first night. And tonight, neither Bonnie nor Chica were trying to make a fast move. They just seemed to watch him.

"Well, come on, get in here and let's get this over with, you fuzzy bastards!" he shouted. He did not want to taunt them, but if he was going to die, he wanted to do it quickly and not have to agonize waiting for it.

Nothing happened. The three of them all stood in a Mexican standoff, Mike's eyes darting between the two doors. If Foxy ever decided to rush the door again, he knew he was toast. But he did not dare look at the camera, too afraid of what Bonnie and Chica would do if he looked away for one second.

Time seemed to pass even slower now, and Mike was starting to feel stiff standing still, braced for impact for that long. "You assholes gonna do something or what?" he called. "Just kill me and be done with it. I don't buy this shit about you seeing me as an endoskeleton or whatever. Just be done with it!"

It was the silence, knowing their eyes were trained on him that made it all the more agonizing. What were they waiting for? He was a sitting duck. He would not stand a chance against them, so what made them stop?

Eventually, the alarm on Mike's watch, sounding that it was six, went off. He gingerly set his chair down, not entirely sure it was over. It was only when he heard Jimmy opening the doors that he felt sure enough to step out. Just as he had suspected, Bonnie and Chica were both just outside the doors, frozen in place.

Jimmy shuffled past as if this were normal. "Ah, well, I see everything's still standing," he said. "I take it things went well?"

"Like hell they did!" he began. "Why won't the doors work?"

Jimmy stepped in and fiddled with the door button, hearing that same buzzz that signaled failure. He nodded. "Well, you see, the animatronics sometimes bump the circuits when they hit up against the walls. Jams the door a little. I'll have it fixed by the time you come in tonight."

"Yeah...yeah that would be great," Mike said sarcastically. "And while you're at it, maybe get some doors they can't mess with."

Jimmy gave him a sly look. "Still planning on coming in tonight?"

Mike nodded with a determined look in his eye. "You haven't scared me off yet. I will figure this out."

"I'm sure you will."

Jimmy was busy playing with the doors. Mike took that opportunity to take a closer look at the unmoving Bonnie. During the day, it just looked sad and dilapidated. But then again, Mike avoided looking it in the eye. He could not stand to look at them. Instead, he took a look at the back. Old bits of fur had worn away and pieces of metal were starting to stick out. Mike would have felt sorry for it if it had not tried to kill him earlier. He looked at one of the exposed metal parts to see a company name engraved in the metal.

"Afton Robotics," it read.


Author's Note: So, a lot of how these nights go is actually dependent on how I played the game myself. For the sake of this story, I took notes on my experiences in the game, at least on the nights that I was able to get through it. So, yes, my night two did go something like this in FNAF 1. Everyone took an early start at me, left me alone, and then Bonnie and Chica jammed the doors for the last hour and a half (game time). I'm honestly shocked that Foxy didn't take another go being without the doors that long. But yeah, that's how I'm going about writing this. And before you ask, yes I did beat 4/20 mode on FNAF 1, but that is the only game I've beaten to completion. I'm still trying to see if I can do 10/20 on FNAF 2. However, the final nights of a game don't affect the writing too much, since most of my notes amount to "bat shit crazy" for those nights.