Chapter 1
20 years later
Wind blows in my face. I stuff my hands into my pockets, trying not to think about earlier this evening. Walking faster, my cheeks gets red. Not because it's cold, but because of blood rushing to my face from built-up anger.
"Gah!" I kick a streetlamp, causing sparks to fall and fizzle out in the wind. In a way, they remind me of my job.
The job I used to have, at least.
I slump down onto a fire hydrant. The thought of my boss in the car repair shop pops into my head, smashing through the emotional walls I worked so hard to put up. The thought of him yelling at me for the last time, before leading me to the door seems like it happened such a long time ago. All because of a minor accident with an oil can and a spare engine.
It's not my fault the fancy car set on fire. It wasn't my fault the first two times, either. 'It is your fault, screwhead,' my brain retorts. I clench my fists. I hate the car, I hate my boss, I hate myself. I'm useless, worthless, I'm-
I'm broke.
Great. That was the only decently paying job in this dead-end town, as far as I'm concerned. No other jobs. I'll have to live on the curb of some gas station, begging for scraps. Now I'm done for.
A gust of wind slams me in the chest. A piece of paper taped to a window rips off and sticks to the fire hydrant. I pick it up. There is a picture of a robotic, anthropomorphic teddy bear with a top hat on it. He looks strangely familiar. His teeth creep me out, looking more like human teeth that bear teeth. There is an ad next to it.
Family Pizzeria looking for security guard to work the nightshift. 12am to 6am. Monitor cameras, ensure safety of equipment and animatronic characters. $120 a week. To apply call: 1-888-FAZ-FAZBEAR. Not responsible for in-
The rest of the ad was torn off. I have a feeling that it must've said something important, but What really catches my eye is the salary. Holy curdled milk on a stick! Why have I never seen this job before? 120$ a week in this neighborhood can make you rich!
I imagine myself one month later, rubbing my money in my rotten boss's face. Elated, I dial the manager's number.
"Hi there, erm, I heard you were in need of a security guard-"
"You're hired! You're shift starts tomorrow at 12 am."
Well, that was easy. He says this very rushed, as if he had been saying that exact phrase for years.
"Hopefully you'll last longer than the others did. See you tomorrow!"
What? Last longer than others? How many guards has this place gone through? Maybe they have really strict guidelines. All the guards got fired early on, I guess.
Who cares? I can do better than them. How hard can being a security guard in a kiddie place be? Elated, I gallop home. I'm saved.
Saved.