No doors, no doors, no doors!
"Oof!" Falling onto the cold floor, Mike untangled himself from his ragged blanket. Sighing, he rubbed his temple. Taking a moment to look at his room, he stood up, and walked over to one wall, looking at it. After a moment, he turned, and headed towards his bedroom door. Unlocking it, he made his way to the bathroom, and pulled out some cleaning utensils.
"That dream again, why is it always that dream?" Mike sighed as he scrubbed one of his bedroom walls clean. Wiping it off with a damp rag, he admired the blank surface for a moment. Nodding once, he returned the cleaning equipment back to the bathroom, and pulled out a brand new marker.
In letters large than all the others written around the room, Mike wrote three words instead of his usual two. Slow, precise movements led him through each stroke, and as he finished, he closed his eyes. Finally, he added a question mark to the end. Putting the marker away, Mike turned toward his door, knowing it was time for work.
The words he had written echoed in his head as he locked his door. They echoed as he checked the animatronic was still secure. As he opened the front door, and left for work. They echoed a question, a thought still half-formed in his mind. Memories of before he worked at Freddy's obscured by their haze, it was a question Mike wasn't ready to face.
Was it me?
Returning home, Mike threw his bag onto the counter, and slumped onto his couch. After a moment of hesitation, he turned on the news. From the looks of things, they were still reporting on the death at the hospital. Mike stifled a yawn, and tried to pay attention.
"Police are still not ruling out murder, despite a suicide note to the contrary. We will update you as soon as fresh information comes in. In other news, our President has declared a rise to the minimum wage. Low-budget earners rejoice-." Smiling, Mike was pleased at the good news. Money had been getting tighter and tighter, and finally he would gain some breathing room.
"If you think you see this individual, please report this to…" Pulling out the newspaper, Mike began scanning the classifieds. A lot of them were for jobs he was unqualified for, but thankfully two seemed promising. Circling them, he resolved to answer them in the morning. A ringing began to sound, and Mike rose from the chair.
"Hello?" Unlocking his door, Mike answered it just before it clicked off. There had been a hope it might be about some more part-time work, but he was immensely disappointed. Not only was it not in any way helpful to him, it was from a labcoat.
"Mike, it's me, your Psychologist. I noticed you cancelled your meeting this week. I'm just calling to see if there was a reason." The voice grated against Mike, and he clenched his teeth.
"I told you in the call. Money's a bit tight right now, I can't." While it wasn't exactly a lie, it wasn't the truth either. Mike hated going to visit him. It wasn't because the man was bad or anything, but he didn't understand.
"Alright Mike, just this one I'll give you a free checkup. How does this Friday sound?" Just great, now Mike was even receiving charity. The thought grated through him so strong, it was hard keeping the displeasure out of his voice.
"No, don't spend your money on me. I'll try to save for next month." There was a hollow note to Mike's voice, and both knew he wasn't telling the truth.
"So what's the real reason you never come to a session Mike?" The line was silent for a long time after the labcoat spoke, before a sigh came through the line. Biting his lip, Mike knew what the labcoat was going to say.
"Mike, if you keep skipping your checkups, I'm going to have to contact the Psychiatric Hospital. You know they only let you out under the condition you come to these sessions." The line was silent for a moment longer, and just as the labcoat was about to put down the phone, Mike spoke.
"I'd like to take you up on your free session Doc. I honestly can't afford it this month. Midday sound good?" Mike closed his eyes as he heard scribbling through the phone, before a pleased voice answered.
"Of course Mike, see you then. Click~" Putting the phone down, Mike sighed as he stood up. Pulling out a second tape, Mike removed the first one from his cassette player. Placing it in, he let himself relax slightly as the familiar ringing sounded.
"You knew," he spoke, placing a hand on top of the player as the guy on the recording began to speak. Turning, Mike reached out to his door, preparing to lock it before he went to sleep. Closing it gently, he locked it, and headed toward his bed. Slipping onto the bed, he stretched, and stifled a yawn.
"Hrm?" A blinking red light on his tablet alerted him to something, and he pulled it up to his face. The battery was going flat. Mike switched on the charger and plugged it in. With any luck, he'd be able to go out to the library tomorrow to research more about spring-locks. Maybe something there would lead to a clue.
"Goodnight," he spoke aloud to no one, pulling the blanket around him as he closed his eyes. Did he feel safe? Not really, but with two locked doors the animatronic should at least make a lot of noise trying to get to him. As he drifted off, Mike wondered what his chances of no nightmares would be.
His guess of 0 was, of course, spot on.