My Night At Freddy's
Chapter Nine: Punching Out
It didn't take long before the heavy shutters over the doors and windows started to rise, letting in the beautiful sunlight while I dragged myself out of the back stage area. The owner took his time unlocking the doors, and I must've been a real sight to see when he came in. My jacket was somewhere on the floor, holes had been corroded into my pants, bruises were starting to form on my face, and I was hobbling around like a damn zombie, which is about what I felt like. First he looked at me, then he saw the disaster that was the dining area, and understandably he wanted to know what had happened. And being the good employee that I was; I intended to show him.
We went around the whole restaurant, with me acting as a kind of tour guide as I pointed out all the doors that had been knocked off the hinges, as well as the broken furniture and now disabled shutters on the security office doors. Next, one by one I showed him what had become of Foxy, Chica, and Bonnie, before making my grand finale of showing him what was inside the suits back stage. I expected him to be shocked and horrified as I told him every blood-curdling detail of what I had gone through during the past six hours, but I was only half right.
He was certainly shocked, but not about what had happened to me, and instead of horrified, he actually started to get angry. Ignoring the horrors of my tale completely, he began to yell and scream about all the damage I had done to his beautiful restaurant, and how the characters I had destroyed were priceless antiques that could never be replaced. He seemed happy that I hadn't managed to destroy Freddy, although he was certain that I had tried my hardest, judging by all the wear and tear on the large bear's costume, and then he told me that I needed to forget all about what I had seen back stage.
Eventually he got around to the face that I was fired, and that I wouldn't be getting a check for the day I worked because he was going to deduct it out of the huge amount that I owed him for wrecking his place of business. He intended to charge me for every single thing that had been broken or destroyed during the night, and at that moment I decided to end his little rant by doing what any red-blooded American would've done in my shoes: I socked him in the mouth.
It will always amaze me how quickly a person's attitude can be changed with a little physical force, and he was singing a completely different tune after getting punched and tumbling backwards over a chair. He then started to do what every weak little tyrant does when they realize that the other guy is not scared of them, and started trying to back-track some of the things he had said to me. He now claimed that he was just kidding about withholding my paycheck, and even offered to forget about charging me for anything if I would just be reasonable.
I waited until he had gotten up to his knees before I grabbed him by the back of the head and rammed my own knee into his jaw, making him fall over sideways. Now he was getting scared, and threatening to call the police on me, and he even said something about pinning the other security guards' deaths on me, but I had other plans. This guy was physically no match for me, especially after I had gone three rounds with the entire Freddy Fazbear Band, so I picked up the long-lost roll of duct-tape from the floor.
He must've realized what was happening, since he scrambled to his feet in order to make a run for the door, but I was already charging toward him by the time he got up. I tackled him before he could get anywhere close to the door, and it was easier than I thought it would be to hold the owner down while I duct-taped his wrists behind his back. I used about seven wraps just to be sure, and then did the same thing to his ankles before putting three wraps around his mouth to make him shut the hell up. I then taped his upper arms to his sides, bound his knees together, and then grabbed him by his ankles in order to drag him toward the stage.
The owner kicked and squirmed, but was unable to get away as I forced him into a sitting position against the hand rail of the stage stairs and used the rest of the roll to attach him to it. Then I searched his pockets, taking his cell phone as well as all the money in his wallet before putting the wallet itself back. The last thing I took were his keys, and I think my plan started to dawn on him after I patted him on the head and told him to have a good night. I ignored his muffled screams as I walked across the dining room and out the front door, gasping happily as fresh air filled my lungs. Then I locked the doors, and the heavy shutters were just finished coming down as the other employees started to arrive.
They asked what was going on, and actually seemed happy when I told them that the owner had closed Freddy's for the day for maintenance issues. No more questions were asked as they got back into their cars and drove away, leaving me to toss the owner's keys and cell phone into the nearest storm drain. I never did get a full explanation for what had happened during my night at Freddy's, but the sudden disappearance of the owner was a nice consolation. The only person I felt bad for was the poor guy who had the job before I did, because without his last message, I probably wouldn't have understood what was happening enough to survive it.
Eventually the police received an anonymous tip about a killer in a bear suit. This was technically true from my viewpoint, and it was never released to the public exactly what they found inside the restaurant, but the place was permanently closed down a few days later. So it was goodbye and good-riddance to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. That is, until someone decided to buy the property and reopen it a few years later, but that is a story for someone else to tell.