Nervousness was a given, as Tuesday night rolled closer to an end. Mike found it easier, after visiting Freddy Fazbear's during the daytime, to see this so far as just a regular job. Maybe Jeremy was wrong, about the goings-on in this restaurant. Another thing to consider was that this location was a completely different one than what Jeremy monitored. If there were strange noises as the building settled, they couldn't have followed the franchise to this end of Main. The Mangle no longer existed. There hadn't been any mishaps here for years. Whether or not they soon closed, Fazbear Entertainment found a healthy balance between safety and excitement.

Where nerves regarding the location dimmed, Mike concerned more over his lack of knowledge about the job. He wouldn't have anyone to call for help in the middle of the night, should something go wrong or he needed a pointer. Even reminder that Scott's tapes would be waiting for him did nothing to alleviate the butterflies in his stomach. Bundled up for the cold walk, he left home earlier than anticipated. There was no harm in showing up early. Management made it very clear he wouldn't be paid for any extra time outside midnight and six o'clock, but no matter. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to be.

To his surprise, the parking lot wasn't empty at 11:30. One car situated in the employee section. Mike slowed when the driver door opened, unsure, although relaxed when he saw it was only Fritz.

"I didn't expect you to be here, tonight," Mike greeted him with.

Fritz shoved his hands into his coat pockets, shoulders hunched against the chilly night. "Well, I figured I'd swing by and make sure you made it. Probably wouldn't hurt to show you how best to conserve power. Remind you to use the restroom if you need to, all that. You're not going to want to wander around the building once midnight hits."

"Oh," Mike said as they meandered toward the entrance, "that reminds me. I heard something about being able to wear a Freddy Fazbear head, so that I become invisible to the animatronics?"

Fritz furrowed his brow. "Where did you hear that from?"

"Old rumour." Something subconscious kept Mike at bay, from being upfront with Fritz. He didn't entirely believe yet that Fritz was being honest about this place, whether or not that meant he was aware that something foul festered beneath the surface. He'd worked here long enough, possibly since before Jeremy even started. How could he give Mike a full tour of this place while ignoring its history? He offered no warning about coming here on time each night, in order to avoid the animatronics on his way to the office. He said nothing, about Jeremy, Freddy, or any of the kids that went missing. So then why would Mike tell Fritz about his relation to some of the victims?

"Well, yeah, it's a possibility. I never even thought about it, to tell you the truth. Scott had such a handle on this place at night, that it's a little difficult to gauge what you might need." Fritz chuckled. "Guess it's a good thing I came, then."

Whether he did or not, Mike would have hunted something down before taking up in the office. It was a little disconcerting, that Fritz never even considered mentioning it. Would Mike have been safe, had it never come up?

"You can probably tell that I haven't been a manager for very long," Fritz bashfully admitted. "Scott worked nights, but he was still mostly in charge of the place. I only took his position after he left. Seniority I guess, right? Too bad I'm only going to have two months or so of experience. I've already started looking into where to go afterward. Maybe it's finally time to try and get on at one of the mines. Hard to want to, after that explosion in Norton last year, though. . ."

Fritz was a talker, when nervous. Mike took the initiative to admit them into the building. No alarm sounded. Between him, the animatronics, and the reputation they bore, that probably wasn't necessary. It was just one more fee.

"Let's uh, let's get that head first, then. Shall we?" Fritz jerked a thumb toward the stage area. "Twenty-five minutes, until the animatronics come back online for night mode."

The restaurant would've been a lot less creepy, could they turn on some lights. The flashlight Mike had the forethought to bring came in handy. Fritz jumped when the beam of light outlined his silhouette against the floor.

"Sorry," he laughed it off. "This place is something totally different, without the kids. It sounds really empty."

They ascended the short set of stairs leading them up to where Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy stood in dark silence. Mike couldn't ignore how wide of a berth Fritz gave them. Unnerved, Mike did the same. It went without saying that, while Fritz rooted around, Mike would stand at the backstage door and keep an eye on the animatronics. Nothing happened, of course. As they headed down the west hall toward the office, Mike felt a little stupid to play into Fritz's paranoia.

"All right, so, basics." Fritz nudged a small basket filled with cassette tapes sitting by the fan. "These are what Scott left for you. Don't run out of power, otherwise you're going to be stuck in here until eight. These doors won't open again until the main power switch gets turned back over. The doors, by the way, come with open and close circuits, not your standard issue locks. Keep them shut until the animatronics return to their standard positions for day mode. I can't stress that enough. That being said, if you have to go to the bathroom, now is the time."

"I will, once you head out."

"Great. Hm, what else? Here are the camera feeds, obviously. All you need to do is watch, make sure nobody gets in and that nothing goes wrong. You're not expected to implement repairs in the middle of the night, but leave a note for me in the morning and I'll make sure that whatever's wrong gets fixed. We used to have a repairman on call, to come in at nine if anything went haywire with the animatronics, but since we need to stretch the budget until the end of the year, we had to terminate his contract. If these guys are going away into decommission and storage come January, there's no point in upkeep."

For all Fritz's apprehension, he sounded legitimately sad for that reality. Mike supposed, after six or more years working here, he'd developed an attachment. So had the kids in town, who were too young to understand Freddy Fazbear's dark past. All they would remember was an oversized chicken offering them cupcakes, a bunny playing the guitar, a bear singing them Happy Birthday, and a fox that rode the high seas like they wished they could, as pirates. Objectively, if Mike struck from the record his bad experiences with this restaurant, he might feel the same. He'd enjoyed it too, when Mom and Dad used to bring him here before Freddy came along.

"Other than all that, I'm not really sure what else to tell you. The desk lamp takes up less power than the room's main light, so I'd recommend using that instead. Don't be alarmed if the animatronics come down the hallway. They have spacial restrictions during the day, mostly to keep them out of the restrooms, but at night they can go anywhere."

"Right."

Hands on his hips, Fritz peered around the small room, for prompt of anything else to share before making his coveted escape. "I guess with that, I'll head out. Good luck. Maybe give me a call when you're done, let me know how it went."

Since Mike had to go to the bathroom anyway, he walked Fritz to the door. Fritz seemed to appreciate that, bidding Mike goodbye before jogging to his car as quickly as he dared over the slick walkways outside. Mike locked the entrance behind him, then turned to face the restaurant at large.

Fritz was definitely correct, about the aura this place put off when it wasn't full of people. Mike didn't realize how big it was either, without so many bodies filling it up. This must be what it was like to walk through a carnival after hours. All this colourful garb shouldn't sit in the darkness. These halls shouldn't be so quiet. It wouldn't seem half as creepy if music covered Mike's echoing footsteps.

11:47. Thirteen minutes until the animatronics entered night mode. In order to save power, Mike kept to his flashlight. It situated on the counter while he made use of a urinal, and then guided his way out of the restroom hallway. As precaution, he turned it off for a moment before emerging into the dining area. His eyes adjusted to the light streaming in from the parking lot, only to see that Chica, Freddy, and Bonnie indeed remained in the exact same position on-stage.

Mike probably wouldn't be so nervous right now, had Fritz not come in. He picked up Fritz' nervous energy all for himself, keeping a near-steady gaze on the animatronics as he headed past the kitchen for the office.

Switches completed the door circuits, bringing them down on both sides. Mike never worked somewhere with office doors like that, although he supposed they came in handy back when this place actually made money. A hefty safe situated in the corner, prime target for someone desperate.

Mike hesitated to make himself comfortable, since he had a difficult time considering this space his. After pacing slightly to familiarize himself with all the posters on the walls, he plopped down in the chair. There were only three minutes left until his actual shift started. He'd brought a book, just in case the night got boring, but for now he was curious. What did Jeremy see, every night that he worked for the franchise? What did Scott have to put up with? Leaning forward on the desk, Mike watched the stage intensely as midnight crept up. In the latter half of 11:59, his heart rate picked up. When the clock turned over to the next day, he barely cared to blink.

Nothing happened. Not immediately, anyway. Mike expected that at the strike of midnight, Chica, Bonnie, and Freddy Fazbear would snap to life. The feeds were grainy, but he could see subtle changes if he strained his eyes enough. Lights turned on in the animatronics eyes. Chica's head slowly turned, as if she studied the dining area. Thoughts were most definitely not a robotic phenomenon, but as a human being, Mike couldn't help projecting. Was she confused, to find herself awake with no one to entertain? No one to offer cupcakes to? Where was any hint of noise that she could drift toward?

The only source of noise Mike had in the office was the fan. He couldn't compromise on it though, given how hot and stuffy this room became without it. Opening the high, tiny window would probably make even more racket, thanks to wind and passing vehicles. It was only an option Mike would consider if six o'clock neared and he needed that final bump to get him through. Even if the animatronics couldn't reach him as the noise drew them in, Mike would much rather avoid seeing them if at all possible. There were still windows to the hallways through which he could be viewed. Blinds apparently weren't in the budget.

Chica and Bonnie stayed in the dining area. Their night mode didn't seem much different than day mode. A little annoyed that so much tense build-up led to this actuality, Mike peered into the basket containing the tapes Scott made for him. 'First Night' was clearly labelled.

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to—" Mike hit the pause button on the cassette player provided to him. Too loud. On the camera feeds, Bonnie and Chica stilled, heads turned in direction of the office. When they carried on their previous routes, Mike released the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Before hitting play again, he turned the volume down to zero. Once the tape started again, he adjusted for a level that wouldn't draw unwanted attention from the animatronics. ". . .get settled in on your first night. I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. You'll do fine.

"Let's see, first, there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read: 'Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, a magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Remember to smile: you're the face of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.'

"Blah, blah, kind of pointless, I know. You've got no one to smile for in the middle of the night, except for the animatronics. They get a little quirky at night, so they might even smile back." Scott chuckled. "Sorry. That sounded a lot funnier in my head.

"So, just be aware, the animatronics do tend to wander a bit. They're left in free roaming mode at night, since their servos lock up if they get turned off for too long. They used to be allowed to walk around during the day too, but then there was The Bite of '87." An awkward pause complemented a wash of recognition through Mike's stomach. ". . .Yeah. It's-it's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?

"I don't mean to scare you, though. That was truly a freak accident. Years ago. Nothing like that's ever happened again since, and we're going to keep it that way. The animatronics aren't malicious, but some of their programming might be of danger to you if you're not cautious. It's like that in any job, right? I'm going to tell you some of the same things I'm sure Fritz told you, like to keep your doors closed. If you have to open them for any reason, avoid playing with them, since they're a horrible drain on the nightly power budget. It's really just best if you stay put for the six hour shift. You can hold it that long, can't you? I eventually learned." Scott chuckled again. "Heh. . .sorry. Something about this place teaches you how to have a sense of humour. One day, if you stay on long enough, you'll listen back through these and we'll have a grand ol' time together.

"You must be wondering, what kind of programming do the animatronics have, that might put you in danger? The thing is, after hours everything that moves becomes an animatronic, in their eyes. Their child-recognition software and connection to the national sex offender registry runs only during the daytime, since obviously there's no need for them when no patrons are around. In order for those to run smoothly in the daytime, they need to be powered down at night. We tried to keep them on all night but there were some. . .close calls. No one got hurt, mind you. But it's not something we'd ever risk again. Think of that portion of their personalities as akin to a child. If they don't get their sleep, they get just as cranky."

Scott laughed openly, with this joke. Mike certainly still didn't find it funny. In the lull, he checked on the animatronics' locations, again. Chica roamed near the restaurant entrance, while Bonnie weaved through the dining area's tables. Freddy remained on stage. Mike had no idea if Foxy was even capable of movement right now, but his curtain remained undisturbed.

"The animatronics have more. . .I call it reptilian programming, which is their absolute basics. Things like walking. One thing that saved Management from hiring a couple more dayworkers is their recognition to right the other animatronics. If Bonnie's head goes askew for instance, and none of the workers notice, then Chica will straighten it back out. Similarly, they understand that every costume needs an endoskeleton, and every endoskeleton needs a costume. It's up to them to make sure there aren't any endoskeletons walking around outside of costume, or costumes laying around on the floor. It's disturbing for the kids, right? They want to believe that Chica, Bonnie, Freddy, and Foxy are magical creatures, not robots. It's been years too, since we left any empty costumes just laying around the restaurant. I'm sure you're familiar with the arrest made back in the summer of '87, when Vince Hart was busted for luring kids into the back while dressed up as Golden Bonnie. Yeah. Not the franchise's greatest moment.

"Coming back to the animatronics' behaviour though, I know what you're thinking. It's really dangerous, to have these robots walking freely around the building with that kind of programming. It's honestly the best it's going to get. Any attempts to better them can't seem to get past that. It's all right, though. You're still safe. Just do what Fritz and I tell you, about staying in your office with the doors shut, and you'll be fine. I used to tell old hires that wearing one of their heads would deter the animatronics from you, but it only works conditionally, so I'm a little hesitant to bring it up. That's better left for when you're more comfortable working here. I might go over it tomorrow night, or something. To be honest, I haven't made a plan of what to say, on these tapes. It's been years since I trained somebody, since I've been the only one here at night. I left Fritz with all the tapes I've ever done though, so you're welcome to go through them all at your leisure. There might be things on them that I'll forget to mention now. Also, a lot of outdated information. We have a lot less animatronics, different policies. . .all that. Uh, might be kind of hard to sort through it all, but hey. What else are you going to do, for six hours a night?

"Anyway, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Keep an eye on those cameras for anything unusual, and remember to keep the doors shut. Conserve your power." Scott paused. "All right, good night."

Freddy Fazbear's head still situated against Mike's leg, in the silence following the message's end. It didn't feel like so much of a security blanket anymore. What should Mike do, if the animatronics came down the hallway? Even if they couldn't enter the office, he didn't at all like the idea of them seeing him through the windows and loitering there until their day modes took back over. At least for now, he didn't need to worry about it. Chica and Bonnie were the only ones that moved as required by their servomotors, and they generally stayed within the parameters of their day modes.

The book Mike brought to pass the time was completely useless. In order to tell if anything went wrong with the animatronics, he needed to recognize what was normal. Rather than bury his nose in the final chapter of Hyperion, as he'd hoped to do, Mike stared at the animatronics on screen and tried to learn their movements.

Chica kept her beak frequently open. Mike would probably never see her twist her head the way she did now, during the daytime. More than likely, she had parts in her neck that frequently seized. She also tended to spend more time on the kitchen side of the restaurant. At one point, she entered it and knocked some of the dishes around. Uncertain if this was something dysfunctional about the animatronic, Mike marked it for Fritz in the morning. Also, that the kitchen camera's feed was interrupted. Mike could hear everything just fine, but not a glimmer of the room manifested beyond stray bits of static.

This was early for Mike to develop a sense of humour, unsure as he remained about this place, but he chuckled lightly as Bonnie approached the kitchen as well. The noise drew him in, to stand stupidly by the doorway as Chica's instructional code failed to free her from the boxy, cluttered room. Was this a common occurrence? Did the cooks need to pick up after Chica every morning, before rolling out a day's worth of dough? One would think, they'd just lock the door by now.

Since there wasn't much else to do that fell within the parameters of paying attention to his job, Mike wound up keeping a log. Chica stumbled out of the kitchen about an hour later, knocking Bonnie as she passed. Bonnie surprised Mike, by catching himself before falling over. So far, their behaviour lent him the impression of walking legs without a brain. There was a complex slew of decisions necessary to make a move like that.

Just as quickly as apparent intelligence manifested though, it was gone. Bonnie turned in Chica's direction and followed her through the tables. The animatronics seemed mindful of where chair and table legs were, but perhaps those parameters were programmed in. If one chair was left out of place at the end of operation hours, the animatronics would probably trip and break their faces. Granted, there were replacement heads in the backstage area, but as every company's head office was fond of pushing, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

Any hint of tension in Mike's shoulders disappeared by the time two o'clock rolled around without any hint of incident. He was starting to feel angry at himself, for buying any of the stories that circulated about this place. This is what Scott did for six years, basking in the admiration that his coworkers held for him. It was a cheap lift to infamy.

An idle daydream of obtaining that for himself carried Mike forward on his boredom for a little while. Only when Bonnie migrated in direction of the west hall around quarter-to-four did Mike sit up straighter and reabsorb some of the tension he'd successfully shed. Bonnie showed no sign of turning back. Not until he passed the supply closet did Mike accept that a decision needed to be made. Scott's confidence in the Freddy head reflected now in Mike, as he glanced down at it. No good. Bonnie's slow footsteps were audible now. Mike was rooted to his chair. Panic slid down his back and chest like ice. These things weren't harmless. He was in danger. He needed to move right now.

A flurry flicked the desk lamp off, before Mike dropped to the floor and scuttled backwards underneath the desk. With his back pressed to the wall and knees drawn to his chest, all the measures to ascertain his safety seemed completely flimsy. Did Bonnie just wander? Was Mike overreacting? Probably, to both. The logical area of his brain called himself an idiot, but adrenaline didn't care so long as it saved his life.

The footsteps stopped, just short of the door. Eyes clenched shut as he hoped Bonnie left, Mike imagined his silhouette illuminated in bare light, through the window. Could the animatronics see in the dark? Could they really see at all? Two more footsteps. Closer. Mike emitted a noise of surprise when something rapped against the door. Not just an accident. Couldn't be. Nothing knocked randomly in such a telltale pattern.

No, you can't come in. Please go away.

Silence.

Oh, this was ridiculous. Mike was a grown man. He shouldn't hide from animatronics that couldn't reach him anyway. For all his cockiness and shaky confidence, he definitely needed to work on this portion of his attitude. It defied reason, even when taking into consideration all the grief these characters were associated with. Considering that Mike was still here almost two-thirds through the night, with minimal strife, he was actually doing pretty well.

Mike calmed down once Bonnie's footsteps retreated down the hallway. Chica was back in the kitchen, kicking around the stuff she'd knocked earlier, so Bonnie's attention focused away from the locked door he'd found. Animatronics didn't have attention spans, Mike reminded himself. If he wanted to succeed at this job, he needed to stop humanizing them.

Thankfully, that was the only fit of fear Mike suffered himself, for the night. Just when Bonnie hovered too uncomfortably close to the west hall opening, a five-to-six executive order in their programming set the animatronics on their return to their resting positions. At six o'clock on the dot, the lights behind their eyes went out, and their heads slumped against their chests.

Mike sighed. He'd survived his first night.

He had his jacket on already, when he remembered Fritz's request to give him a call. After seeking out his name on the contact list, Mike dialled him in. The phone on the other end only rang once before Fritz answered with a tense greeting.

"Hey, it's Mike." Mike yawned. "I'm just heading home."

"Everything went all right?"

"Yeah, it was fine. Bonnie and Chica were the only ones that really roamed. Chica made a mess in the kitchen, by the sounds of it. Is that normal?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe? Scott didn't mention anything on the tapes?"

"No. Maybe he cleaned up after her. When do the cooks usually come in?"

"They start getting everything ready for the day around eight."

"Right. . .ask them for me, later? If Scott took care of it, I suppose I could too at the end of the night."

Fritz chuckled. "A go-getter, huh? Damn fine, after getting through the night so easily. Too bad this place is closing down so soon. I think you'd have already earned yourself a permanent position here."

"I do what I can."

With Fritz heading back to bed for a couple more hours before having to rise for work, Mike figured he might as well do the same. He raised both office doors, checked his surroundings for any messes or belongings he'd left, and headed for the door. Even though he could see the three animatronics on stage, he watched out for them. Foxy hadn't moved all night, but he could still be anywhere. His metal shone under the flashlight, when Mike checked through the curtain's gap from a distance. Everything seemed to be in order.

The sun had yet to rise. After zipping up his coat and stowing his hands in the pockets, Mike headed for home.