"Mike, I know you're there," spoke his answering machine. Groaning, Mike shifted onto his back, looking up at the ceiling as he layed on his bed. The same two words painted a landscape of blocky stars, and he rose to a sitting position. Rubbing his eyes, he leaned over to the phone near his desk, and picked it up.
"I'm here, what do you want?" Trying not to be turt despite the early hour, Mike looked around his room as he waited for a response.
"I'm sorry Mike, but we're gonna have to let you go. You'll receive a week's pay, but you don't need to come into work. We didn't do too well this season, and we're cutting back in a lot of places." The voice on the other end was apologetic, and Mike sighed in response.
"It's...fine. Thank you for calling. I will. Goodbye." Mike hung up the phone, and dialed a number, waiting as it rung.
"Hey, you got any part time work available? Yeah, it's gonna take me a while to find another one. What do they pay? ...It's not ideal, but I'll take it. Yeah, thanks, bye." Hanging up the phone, Mike pulled out a planner, marking out the day for his part-time employment. The paper didn't get delivered for another day, he'd try to find a new job then.
Mike walked out of his bedroom, locking the door behind him. Walking into his living room, he opened the door to the kitchen, and placed a piece of toast in his toaster. Once it was cooked, he bit down on it, and headed back into the living room. Taking a seat on the couch, he flicked on his half-busted tv.
"...dead in a hospital on…" Listening to the news, Mike slowly munched on his toast, closing his eyes for a moment in thought. Pulling out a small tablet, he turned it on and checked the only screen. A crystal clear image showed the animatronic still attached to the table. Narrowing his eyes, Mike also checked that the restraints were still attached.
"Ssssss." The tv suddenly cut out, showing static, and gaining Mike's attention. Freezing, Mike's breathing hitched. The golden bear slowly crawled out of the tv, growing in size. As it approached Mike, the toast, still half in his mouth, dropped to the floor. Slowly, Mike pulled up his tablet, putting it between them, and lowered it. It was gone.
"He's back," whispered Mike, standing up and turning off the tv. Leaning against a wall, he slumped to the ground, shaking silently. The nights flashed through his head, even after all these years, vivid and blinding. Breathing slowly, he remained that way for a moment longer, before rising back off the floor.
"Alright, focus." Walking toward the door that led to the animatronic, Mike unlocked it, and entered. Slowly, the animatronic head turned toward him, and he gulped. Closing the door, he glanced toward the note he had left on the door. 'If you are reading this, there is a murdering monster in this room. Never open this door.'
"Ok, I've got this guy here. What do I do with him?" Closing the door, Mike locked it and slowly approached the animatronic. It continued staring at him, not emitting a single sound. That is, if you excluded the shallow breathing. Forcing himself to look over the body, Mike still had no clues as to what he could do.
"Maybe that old manual…" Turning, Mike dug around in a dusty box, pulling out a yellowed booklet. Flipping it open, he quickly skimmed the paragraphs about the springlock animatronic. Biting his lip, he tossed it back in the box, and rubbed his forehead. Beginning to pace the room, Mike frowned in concentration.
"Think, where does this one fit into everything. There are the normal five, those toy versions, that Balloon Boy, and this one. A 'puppet' was also mentioned. Pictures...pictures…" Mike pulled out another box, rifling around before finally revealing a single picture of a puppet giving a present to a smiling kid.
"The spring-lock animatronic...likely this one. But why is there no record of it after a certain point. That room being sealed off..." Placing the picture back in the box, Mike stood up and looked toward the animatronic. It was still watching him, he shuddered. Movement in the corner of his vision caught his eye, and he blinked.
The paper plate Balloon Boy had moved, and was now resting on top of the table. What's more, it seemed to be looking right at him. Mike shifted back, feeling the security of the wall behind him. Apprehension crawled through him, and he forced himself to continue taking breaths. Glancing toward the animatronic, still staring at him, he looked back toward the Balloon Boy. It had moved again.
"H-Hello?" Mike didn't dare move, knowing that something else was in this room. Something he didn't have strapped down to a table. The Balloon Boy paper plate seemed to flutter in a breeze despite the enclosed room, and Mike felt all his courage leave him. Diving for the door, Mike unlocked it as quick as his could, pulling it open.
Mike felt a hand on his shoulder, and froze, mid step to freedom. Slowly, he turned his head, seeing something slowly come into view. It wasn't the animatronic, nor the paper plate. It had pitch black eyes, with a white mask that had purple streaks going down it's face. Mike felt his heart beating inside his chest, about to burst out. He didn't dare breathe. He didn't dare blink.
Mike watched it fade right in front of his eyes, and collapsed to the floor, still in the doorway. Using the door, he pulled himself upright, and forced himself to look inside the room. Everything was back to normal, and the animatronic was still looking at him. Mike looked toward the Balloon Boy paper plate, and closed the door, locking it.
"Not today!" Mike laughed wildly as he dashed toward his room, unlocking it and relocking it. Looking back as he put a wall behind him, he tried desperately to bring himself back to some sort of coherent thought beyond the desire to run. Mike looked around his room, snatching his marker from the table, and wrote the two words three more times.
Calming down, Mike took a seat on his bed, still shaking. Closing his eyes, he slowly absorbed the event that had occurred in the room. Somehow, three things were in his apartment now. One he had brought here himself, but the other two were much more foreboding. Why had that puppet appeared?
"Why does it always feel like I'm missing that one crucial piece to this puzzle?" Mike flopped back onto his bed, and sighed. So many questions, and so few answers. The murders, the animatronics, and the security guard. There was something deeper to this, he knew it.
"I just hope finding out doesn't kill me in the process."