Author's Note: Hey all, welcome to my first ever FNaF fanfiction! :D

This story idea has been in my head since January, and because I couldn't get it out of my head, I decided to write it. I want to make it clear that this is written entirely in first-person, with the narrator being a man named Mihael Patel.

Warning to all that are reading this, Mihael suffers emotional instability, meaning that he'll react and behave to situations differently than others. Emotional instability is an issue that exists and has been researched. This will be explored more later on in the story.

That is all. Hope you enjoy the story! :)

CHAPTER ONE: THE INVITATION

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock blaring loudly, signaling to me the start of a new day. I rolled onto my side and aggressively slammed the fingers of my right hand onto the snooze button. The alarm clock went silent and blissful silence filled the room. I groaned as I slowly sat up on my bed. I opened my eyes and looked around my bedroom, something I always did every morning when I woke up.

My bedroom was a medium-sized room with drywall, a large dresser fitted with a flat-screen TV that faced the bed, a window with red curtains on the right wall, white paneled folding doors acting as the closet on the left wall, 2 very large wooden shelves that stood proud and tall beside the dresser filled with movies and books, my nightstand that stood to the left of the Queen-sized bed, which is where my alarm clock and my phone stood, and a large wooden desk fitted with a second-hand computer that stood next to the nightstand.

I sighed as I knew what the whole day would be like, which would be the same old thing; spending the entire day trying to find a job. Now, that wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't for the fact that luck tended to avoid me or wasn't on my side at all. In fact, due to my lack of luck, I almost didn't get the house that I now live in. The only reason I got the house is because of one thing; my mother.

Rebecca Patel was the reason why I was still on my feet instead of living out on the streets. She even managed to help me get a car when I got my license after I turned 16. As a whole, I wouldn't be where I was or be the person I was today if I never had a mother like her.

The sound of my alarm clock blaring loudly snapped me out of my thoughts. I let out a low sigh, remembering what I would be doing today.

'Let's get this over with,' I thought to myself glumly. 'But first things first, I need to make myself a cup of coffee and get the mail.'

With that, I switched off the alarm, threw the covers off me, and hopped out of bed. I walked over to the dresser, put on a typical white T-shirt and blue shorts, and walked over to the door. As I reached for it, my eyes turned to the family picture that I had on the wooden desk.

I walked over to the desk and reached for the picture. I picked it up and stared at it. In the picture were a man with nicely combed hair, a stocky build, and green eyes, a woman with long brown hair, slightly tan skin that had a few wrinkles, and brown eyes, an adolescent boy, and a little girl with perfect color skin, blonde hair, and brown eyes.

I closed my eyes as I felt tears build up upon seeing the man and the little girl. The man and the little girl in the picture were my father and my little sister. A wave of grief and sadness washed over me and I tried my best to keep myself under control.

I never liked thinking about what happened. It has been over 10 years since it'd happened; something that shouldn't have happened to begin with. What happened 10 years ago was something that led to both my father and my little sister no longer being here with me and my mom. I always blamed what happened for the destruction it brought.

There were many times I wished that it'd never happened and that my father and my little sister were still here. I wished that my life was back to the way it was before it happened, but I was keenly aware that things will never go back to normal.

It didn't help that my mother was able to cope with it better than I did. For the last 10 years, I had been plagued by terrible nightmares, which always ended with me screaming in the middle of the night. Last night was no different since I woke up screaming in the middle of the night because of said nightmares.

In fact, one of the reasons I even moved out of my mother's house was because of the nightmares, as well as the fact that the house we lived in was a house that my mother and father bought sometime after they got married.

When I had my first nightmare, I would never forget how my mother had come charging into my room and asked if I was okay. I didn't want to tell her about it, so I said it was nothing and told her to forget it. It took a while before she finally went back to her room and went back to sleep. Eventually, she stopped charging into my bedroom and left me alone, which I was grateful for.

As for the house, while I did love it, it brought bad memories and it made things difficult for me. When I turned 22, I couldn't take much more of it, so I decided to move out. I told my mother and she didn't like the idea and begged for me to stay. As much as I didn't want to leave her alone, I had to go. She was disappointed that she failed to change my mind but respected my choice.

When the day came for me to move out and after helping me get the house that I now lived in, I would never forget how she'd walked over to my side and rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Mihael, you don't have to do this," she said, her tone pleading. I'm not going to lie; I felt horrible, but I knew it was the right thing to do if I wanted any chance of keeping the memories at bay.

"I want to do this," I said with determination.

"I'll miss you," she said, and by how tight she hugged me, I was able to tell that she was going to cry. I hugged her back.

"I know," I said before we ended the hug and I hopped into my car and drove off. The memories faded and I felt my restraints failing.

'I miss you so much, father,' I thought to myself. 'You as well, my little sister.'

I allowed a single tear to escape and trail down my cheek. After I got a hold of myself, I set the picture back down, and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I opened the front door and stepped out onto the front porch. I surveyed the neighborhood and smiled.

The neighborhood itself was small, the kind where the people knew each other and were overall very pleasant. It was also the kind of neighborhood where you really didn't have to worry about anything bad or illegal happening and was very safe. It was one of the reasons why I even moved into this neighborhood in the first place.

The houses were your typical one-story structures that were either made out of wood or fine red bricks. My house was one of those that was made out of fine red bricks with a triangular-shaped roof fitted with a garage and a driveway. Parked in the driveway was my truck and not the flashy and modern-styled trucks. It was a Classic Old Chevy, the kind that existed back in the 1950s. It was crazy expensive, but it was all worth it.

To make it clear from the get-go, that truck was my very first car and I've treated it with great care ever since I got it. In fact, if I wasn't with my mother that day, I wouldn't have gotten it in the first place. I remember that day clearly.

It was on a Saturday, exactly 2 weeks after getting my license. I was in the car with my mother staring out the window slightly defeated. We had gone to different dealerships to search for a car, but there were none that caught my interest. I didn't want anything fancy, unlike most people who want a great-looking car for their first. I was aware of how things would go down if I got something fancy, especially when it came to entitled people.

We were on our way to a Chevy dealership, which was our last hope of finding a car. As I looked out the window, we passed by a random house and that was when I first saw it.

It was sitting idly in the front yard and it didn't look to be in the best shape. The paint was old, the front windshield was cracked, and the mirrors were missing. It had a piece of paper that said 'FOR SALE' taped to its front.

To my intense surprise, I felt the desire to have it. I wanted that truck right on the spot. I shouted for my mother to stop and drive back to that house.

"Why?" she asked.

"I want that truck," I said as I pointed at it. She stopped the car and looked at the truck that I was pointing at. My mother frowned when she saw it.

"Honey, that truck doesn't look like it would work," she said. "Maybe we can find something better."

"No," I insisted. "I want THAT truck. I have to get it."

When she saw that I did want it, she turned her car around and drove back to the house. When we arrived, we knocked on the door and a man who looked to be in his 80s opened the door. I asked him if that truck was truly for sale. When he said that it was, I informed him that I was very interested in buying it.

He looked at me skeptically. "Are ya sure ya want it?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm very sure," I said to him with genuine honesty.

I would never forget the expression of shock that formed on that old man's face when he realized that I was serious. He told me that it was all mine for $300. I immediately became disappointed as I didn't have that kind of money. I was still in high school and didn't have a job at the time so I didn't have anything in my name.

I think my mother saw something on my face because before anything else could happen, she offered to pay for it. The man gave her a warm smile and said it was all mine. I would never forget how I gave my mom the biggest hug I could muster. The man gave me the keys, we gave him the money, and we drove back home, with me driving the truck on the way there.

After getting it, we had a long-time friend, who was really good with cars, check it out and he did heavy work on it. There were a lot of things that had to get fixed but thanks to him, we didn't have to take it anywhere else to get it fixed. To this day, the truck remains my first and only vehicle and it has become my pride and joy.

'Such a peaceful neighborhood,' I thought to myself pleasantly at the sight and at the memories.

I walked over to the mailbox that stood at the foot of my front yard, opened the mailbox, and retrieved the contents stuffed inside. I looked them over. Five envelopes; four of them being bills and the last one looking like an invitation.

This didn't take me by surprise as I had a pretty good idea as to what it could be for. I resisted the urge to groan as I closed the mailbox and speed-walked all the way to the front door. The last thing I wanted was for one of the neighbors to say 'good morning' to me and start up a conversation with me, something I hated to my very core. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side.

"Mornin', Mihael!" called out a familiar deep, gruffy voice. I cringed and turned around to see a familiar tall balding man in his late 30s wearing a black T-shirt and torn-out jeans walking over to me with a friendly smile on his face.

"Morning, Peter," I said as politely as I could as he stopped about a foot away from me, mentally kicking myself for not being fast enough.

Peter Brown was the first one to introduce himself when I moved in five years ago. He lived in the house across the street, one of those that were made out of fine wood, and has a wife and 2 kids: one boy and one girl. He was the kind of neighbor that loved to strike up a conversation and had a heart of gold. Because of that, he was friends with pretty much everyone in the neighborhood… with the exception being me.

I never liked how he kept trying to befriend me, even though I made it very clear that I wasn't interested in being friends. I know that people say that having friends is one of the most important things to have in life, but having something like that never happened to me. It was something I saw as an impossibility.

'Here we go again,' I thought to myself in annoyance.

"How are you on this fine day?" he asked.

I shrugged, having decided to play along. "Meh. You?"

"Been doing fine," he replied. "Bella and I just woke up like fifteen minutes ago to the youngsters playing with their toys loudly. Noisy bunch, but I love them."

I chuckled lightly, remembering what I was like when I was a little kid. I was so noisy and made such a ruckus that it could all be heard all through the house, according to what my mother claimed. Because of how noisy I was and would make, I was given the nickname 'The Noisy Devil'.

I mentally smiled when I thought about their little kids; Emmett and Tara. I grew to love those kids and smiled whenever I saw them playing outside. Strangely enough, Peter would sometimes ask me to babysit his kids while he and Bella went out. Honestly, I didn't mind watching his kids. They reminded me of when I was around their age, which brought back good memories of the past.

Emmett Brown was a 10-year-old little boy with a baby face, smooth black hair, and amber eyes. He was the sweetest, and most selfless little boy I've ever met. I remember the first selfless deed Emmett just days after I moved in. It was a day that I would never forget.

It was during the summer, just 5 days after I moved in. I was sitting on my front porch drinking coffee when I caught sight of a little boy riding his bike, minding his own business. All was going well until I saw the little boy lose control of his bike. Both he and the bike fell and he scraped his knee in the process. His loud cries of pain caught the attention of the neighbors, including Emmett.

Emmett went over to see if the boy was okay and saw the scrape on his knee. Without so much as a second thought, he charged into the house and came out holding a cotton ball, rubbing alcohol, and a bandaid in his hands. He attended to the little boy's injury with the kindest smile on his face. When it all was done, the boy thanked him and went back home. It was the most heartwarming thing I'd ever seen. Emmett earned my respect that day, and I still thought highly of him.

His sister, Tara Brown, was a 9-year-old girl with a pretty face, long blonde hair, and light blue eyes. While she was as kind as her brother, she was a bit vain when it came to her looks. Whenever she was in the mood, she would brag about how she looked beautiful and brag about it. I had to admit; she was very beautiful for her age. It did drive me a little crazy whenever Tara did that, but those moments were few and far between.

As for his wife, Bella Brown was a beautiful young woman with average color skin, silky black hair, and amber eyes. I've met her a few times and I'll be honest, she's a pretty decent woman. She was a kind woman, but she was strict when it came to raising the kids. Whenever I would see her outside and she saw me, she would wave and say 'hi'. I would return the gesture. I could consider her a friend, but the both of us weren't that close enough or did anything that would put the both of us to be at that stage.

"Kids will do that to you," I said, which got Peter to chuckle.

"I think we can all agree that we were like that when we were their age," he said with humor in his tone.

"No argument there," I said.

"So, do you have any plans for today?" he asked politely. Grr. Of course, he would ask that. I felt my annoyance from earlier turn into frustration and it built up inside me. I did my very best to repress it as much as possible.

"No, not really," I replied, my voice sounding tight. "You?"

"Well," Peter began to say, "today is my son's birthday and I invited everyone in the neighborhood to the party, including you."

I resisted the urge to groan, remembering the invitation that was stuffed in my mailbox. Whenever it came down to special events, such as birthdays or even the holidays, Peter would invite everyone in the neighborhood to his house to celebrate, something his wife loathed. I never showed up for these celebrations.

"Let me guess; you're having it at your house?" I guessed.

He shook his head. "Nope, not this time. Instead of celebrating it at my house, I will be having it at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. It was my son's idea, not mine."

I nearly dropped my stuff upon hearing that name. Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex was this popular entertainment center/mall fitted with all sorts of attractions, places to eat, etc. It opened 12 years ago and to this day, in fact, it was the most popular establishment in the small town of Hurricane. I didn't want to believe it. It all sounded so crazy.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, secretly hoping that it was all just a crazy joke.

Peter shook his head again. "Nope, I'm not kidding. The party starts at 12 PM at the Pizzaplex and it will last till closing."

It took everything I had to prevent myself from throwing up. This wasn't a joke; Peter Brown was in fact planning to have his son's birthday be celebrated at the Mega Pizzaplex. I was feeling this way because of not only the place itself but also because of what happened for 2 whole years.

A few days after the Pizzaplex's opening, more than 150 kids had gone missing and, unfortunately, were never found. The families who lost their kids were torn apart and even moved out of Hurricane. It wasn't until the end of the second year did we find out who was responsible.

The Pizzaplex's security guard at the time, a woman named Vanessa, turned out to be the one responsible for the disappearances. Though it was never revealed how or why, but it was said that Vanessa was sent to a mental institution for being 'crazy in the head'.

To be honest, it sickens me to know and see that people still go there and the place is still in business. If it were all up to me, I would've made sure that place got shut down.

"So, you coming?" Peter asked in a hopeful tone. I looked at him with disgust, the frustration turning into fury.

"Have you lost your FUCKING MIND?!" I shouted in fury and disgust. Peter took a step back, shock plastered on his face.

"Huh? What?" he asked stupidly.

"IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO SET FOOT IN THAT WRETCHED PLACE, YOU'RE SADLY MISTAKEN!" I screamed in fury. Peter continues to stare at me in shock. I took notice of the other neighbors stepping out of their homes, obviously coming out to see what was going on.

'Let them watch,' I thought bitterly.

"Mihael, what's wrong?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused. I glared daggers at him, my fury boiling in my veins.

"What's wrong?! WHAT'S WRONG?!" I screamed loudly in his face. "WHAT'S WRONG IS THAT YOU'RE HAVING YOUR SON'S BIRTHDAY BE CELEBRATED AT THE VERY SAME ESTABLISHMENT WHERE MORE THAN 150 KIDS HAVE GONE MISSING AND STILL HAVEN'T BEEN FOUND! YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, PETER!"

An understanding expression formed on Peter's face for a short moment before it became an expression of sadness.

"I know what you're talking about, Mihael," Peter muttered softly. "I wish it never happened. All of those poor innocent kids. All of those families should never have to go through that, but-"

"But what?" I spat venomously.

"But they caught the one responsible for the disappearances," Peter resumed. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"And you still think it's a good idea to have your son's birthday party be celebrated at the Pizzaplex, aware that kids went missing there?" I growled viciously through my teeth. There was a brief pause and I waited for him to give me an answer.

"Mihael, that was 10 years ago and there hasn't been a disappearance since. I know that it was tragic, but we can't always dwell on the past all the time. I really don't think it's a bad idea to have my son's birthday party there."

I stared at him, my right eye twitching violently. He did NOT just say that! How could this man believe that it was okay to go through with something like this?! I felt something snap within me as my body began shaking.

"You… are… an IDIOT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?! IT'S BAD ENOUGH THAT THEY STILL HAVEN'T FOUND THE KIDS THAT HAVE GONE MISSING, BUT FOR YOU TO SAY THAT IT'S NOT A BAD IDEA TO HAVE YOUR SON'S BIRTHDAY PARTY THERE IS THE WORST THING THAT I EVER HEARD COME OUT OF SOMEONE'S MOUTH! YOU'RE DISGUSTING!"

"Mihael, please calm down," he pleaded. That only made me angrier.

"CALM DOWN?!" I shouted in his face. "YOU EXPECT ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN YOU PLAN TO HAVE YOUR SON'S BIRTHDAY AT THE PIZZAPLEX?!"

"Nothing bad has happened in the last 10 years," he pointed out.

"I DON'T CARE!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, my face hot.

I waved the invitation violently in Peter's face. He shut his eyes and moved his head back as I did this. I stopped and Peter opened his eyes.

"I LOST SOMEONE IMPORTANT TO ME THERE!" I shouted before ripping it to pieces. "YOU'RE A FOOL FOR INVITING ME!"

Peter watched in utter horror as I did this. I didn't care if his feelings were hurt. He deserved it. Then, I threw the pieces onto the ground and proceeded to stomp my foot on it a couple of times before I stopped. I glared daggers at Peter while he focused his horror-struck face on me.

"I'M NOT GOING TO THE PARTY AND YOU NEED TO THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING!" With that, I stormed inside, slamming the door behind me.

I took a quick sip of my coffee before setting the mug beside the computer and staring intently at the screen. I gritted my teeth as I tried to keep my anger under control.

It had been over an hour since my talk with Peter and me looking for a job online. I was still very disgusted and miffed with Peter for even considering having his son's birthday be celebrated at the Mega Pizzaplex. I knew that the man meant well in wanting to invite me, but it didn't have to be at the most God-awful place in history.

I mean, I wouldn't have a problem or wouldn't even care if Peter had the party at a different location, but the fact that he was having his own son's birthday at the Pizzaplex was something I cared about. I was aware that I had gone a bit too far with tearing that invitation into pieces in his face, but I wanted to make my hatred for the place very clear to him.

The thing was talking about the Pizzaplex was a very personal matter to me. Just even mentioning or thinking about that place sends me into a rage. I didn't see the Pizzaplex as a friendly family establishment; I saw it as the place where innocent children had gone missing and were never found. A place that didn't deserve to remain in business.

The fact that people still go there and act like the disappearances weren't that big of a deal or act like it never happened was the most disrespectful thing I've ever seen and heard. It was only made worse when sometime later, the police dropped the case as not only was the person responsible for them at a mental institution but their bodies were never found. They didn't see any reason to continue the case and keep on searching, which only infuriated me even more just thinking about it.

I slammed my fists onto the desk, the desk slightly shaking from the impact. I hated thinking about the Pizzaplex, and it didn't help that I was forced to remember the awful memories I've tried my best to bury deep within the depths of my very mind. I just wished that someone or something would do something about that place, shut that establishment down for good and tear it down so that I would never have to see its ugly face again.

'Curse that wretched place,' I thought bitterly to myself.

A few knocks at my front door caught my attention. I looked away from the computer screen, curious as to who it was and why, despite feeling angry. I let out a low sigh, grabbed my coffee mug, got up from the computer chair, and walked over to the front door. I unlocked the door and swung it open.

Standing on my front porch was a woman with long brown hair, slightly tan skin that had a few wrinkles, and brown eyes. This woman before me was my mother, Rebecca Patel. Ever since I moved out of her house, she made it a habit to come to visit me and see how I was doing. I wouldn't have a problem with it if she didn't come over every single day.

I instantly took notice that she had an angry expression on her face.

"Hey, Mihael," my mother said with an angry tone.

"What are you doing here, mother?" I asked sternly. She didn't reply. Instead, she pointed behind her and I looked.

Standing behind her were all of my neighbors and they were glaring at me, angry expressions on their faces. Seeing this, something deep down told me that they informed her of what happened earlier. That wouldn't come out as a surprise since they saw the whole thing.

I looked back at my mother and her angry expression intensified.

"I'm very disappointed in you, young man," she said in a scolding tone. "Your neighbors have told me what happened earlier."

I glared at my mother. I was not in the mood to hear it from her, and I was sure as heck wasn't going to let her get in the way.

"If you're going to scold me because I refused Peter's invitation to go to the Pizzaplex for his son's birthday, don't even bother wasting your time on it," I said rudely. "Nothing you say will change anything so do me a favor and spare me. I need all the time I can get to find a job."

I proceeded to shut the door, not wanting to deal with this nonsense at the moment. The front door was about to click shut before something pushed the door back with force. I took a few steps back as the door swung wide open. My mother was now looking at me with the most enraged expression I'd ever seen plastered on her face.

"Mihael Patel," my mother began, her tone seething with anger, "I'm your mother and you will NOT disrespect me like that. I will scold you for your behavior because it was unacceptable and uncalled for. I sure as hell didn't raise you to behave like that. Peter was kind enough to invite you to the Pizzaplex for his son's birthday and you had the audacity to spit in his face and declare that you're not going? I'm sorry to tell you this, but this ends right now.

"I know that you don't like the Pizzaplex because of what happened, even after what happened all those years ago, but you didn't have to behave the way you did. I'm aware that your hatred for the Pizzaplex has to do with her going missing and I miss her as much as you do, but I refuse to have you fly off the handle on anyone for them mentioning the place.

"And as for you looking for a job, I know that you want to get a job, but I won't have you destroy yourself over it. So, here's what's going to happen; you are going to take a break from looking for a job and go to the Pizzaplex for Emmett's birthday. That will be better than just staying indoors all day as you have been for the last five years."

I stared at her in disbelief. There was no way that she said what she just said, but unfortunately, my mother did say what she said. It was true; I refused to set foot near that place because that's where I lost someone dear to me. Her disappearance has haunted me since then and I still have nightmares about it to this day. If my mother thought that I was going to do what she wanted me to do, well, she was sorely mistaken.

"Mother, I am NOT going," I growled, glaring at her. "I want nothing to do with the place. There's nothing on this planet that's going to make me go back to that wretched place. You're a fool for thinking otherwise."

"That's enough, Mihael!" my mother shouted. "Stop acting like that and do something productive for once!"

"You may be my mother, but I'm not going to have you tell me what to do!" I retorted.

"Stop being so disrespectful and selfish!"

"Blah, blah, blah!" I said rudely, making the motion with my right hand. My mother gasped, her mouth dropping and her eyes wide. I heard the neighbors gasp, but I ignored them. "I'm NOT going and THAT'S FINAL!"

My mother narrowed her eyes at me, a burning determination flaring in her eyes. That wasn't a good sign…

Author's Note:

That's the end of Chapter One.

I'm really nervous about how this will be received. I take my writing very seriously so if you guys see any errors, please let me know and I will do my best to fix them. All criticism is appreciated. :)

Update: Added new content, making the chapter a bit longer.

Update 2: Added more content. :)

Final Update: Added more story content. This will be the last time Chapter One will be updated.