Night 2
3:45 AM
BAM!
"Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuck me! Fuck me! Goldie!" CRASH! FUCK OH FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK ME! GOLDIE!" SMASH! "Don't let her see us!"
"Don't worry Griffin. The door's closed," Goldie purred, smirking at the trembling night guard.
The two men watched Chica slam into the door to the left through the camera monitor. Griffin sat down, curled up in a ball, and started rocking from side to side on the chair. He cursed the fan that would not turn off for draining power by insulting its mother. Goldie rubbed the night guard's back and made comforting noises while trying not to laugh. The night guard closed his eyes and leaned into the janitor's touch. He stopped rocking. A few seconds later, Chica left, screeching in anguish. The metal punching bag was opened, and the cameras temporarily turned off. Ponytail guy checked the damage Chica left on the door while Goldilocks checked the power level.
"Dammit, Griffin!" Goldie shouted. "It's barely four AM and we're at thirty-two percent power!"
"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" Griffin groaned through gritted teeth.
The men, not wanting to waste power, completely shut off the cameras and smashed the fan into oblivion. They only used the dim lights by the doors to see if an animatronic was on its way to kill them. Thirty minutes of silence passed before –
Freddy's deep, metallic laugh boomed through the hallway. Chanting "nope" over and over and over and over again, Griffin slammed both doors down, leaned against one of them, and a minute later, slid down it. He held his head in his hands until Bonnie's screams and footsteps rattle the door he was leaning against. He climbed into the Goldie's lap, where he rested his head on the other man's khaki shorts. The janitor raised his eyebrows, but decided that it was not a very good time to crack a dirty joke. The night guard, having remembered something important, abruptly sat up, almost banging his head into the other man's clean-shaven chin.
"The phone guy said there are supplies and that you know where they are! Get them! Save me, Goldie!" Griffin pleaded, his voice cracking. He stared into Goldie's eyes and added, "Please tell me it's a shotgun. Or an E.M.P. Please tell me it's an E.M.P.!"
Goldie cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at Griffin. Not because he was ashamed, but for crushing the little guy's heart. "The supplies are nothing useful. In this situation, anyway..."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Griffin demanded, not understanding the true meaning of Goldie's words. He grabbed the other man's shoulders and shook them.
Goldie hesitated before answering, his voice shaking (Griffin was still violently shaking his shoulders), "Well, uh… I sometimes get bored with my job, and the night guard sometimes gets bored with their job, and well, one thing leads to another…"
Griffin stared at Goldie, dumbfounded and mildly disgusted. There were a few minutes of silence, and then it was five AM. He stood up to check the power, putting his hand over the numbers so he couldn't see it. That gave him time to prepare himself for the worst. He finally looked, and gasped.
"How is that even possible?" Griffin mumbled, just loud enough for Goldie to hear.
Concerned, Goldie walked to where Griffin was standing. His eyes widened. "The power is at… eighty-seven percent?" The men watched the numbers slowly increase. It was five thirty-eight AM when the numbers finally reached one-hundred percent.
Goldie noticed a smudge on the two zeros, so he wiped it off, the zeros disappearing with it. He gulped. "Never mind, it was just a smudge. We're at one percent power."
The duo watched the number cautiously as minutes slowly ticked by. They were scared that even a loud breath would make the power generator fail. At five fifty-five AM, they relaxed, knowing that the power would make it. The doors opened, and it went completely dark – the power had given out. Booming laughter filled the room as Freddy peeked in, the metal bear's eyes flashing as loud children's music poured out of its open mouth.
"I just remembered I have the keys to get out! They're in my back pocket. The left one," Goldie announced, a smirk on his face. "I don't remember who's left. I'm too scared. Could you get them? You might have to dig around."
Griffin plunged his hands into Goldie's butt pockets, frantically rummaging around. "I can't find them!"
"Maybe they're in my front pockets." Goldie's smirk grew as Griffin searched the janitor's front pockets.
"They're not there! I can only feel your pocket knife!" Griffin howled, but continued searching anyway.
"I just remembered. I forgot them in the car, and we don't need them to get out. BTW, that wasn't a pocket knife. Let's go!" Goldie grabbed Griffin's hand and started running, dragging him through a maze of hallways. As they ran, Goldie said through gasping breaths, "You touched my butt and my trouser snake. I know desperate times call for desperate measure, but still!"
Griffin just shook his head as the duo hurdled over obstacles. Goldie never let go of the night guard's hand. They reached the door that would lead them to safety, opened it, and burst out of the pizzeria right as the clock struck 6 AM.