It had only been one night. One night on the job, and the new guard already decided that he was quitting. No-one disclosed the fact that the animatronics moved, NOR said anything about the fact that they were trying to kill him in the process. No, he had to learn that helpful little piece of information from a damn phone call at the start of the shift, and even that told him only what he needed to know, and nothing more.
*Squeak*
The guard breath hitched for a minute. He immediately slammed the left door shut, turning on the light. A small alarm sounded, and he saw the ears of that rabbit. The guard decided that the damn thing snuck up on him when he was looking for the over-sized chicken. He exhaled slowly. "Thank God," he muttered under his breath. That was too close.
There was a clatter of pots and pans from the right. The guard checked to make sure the rabbit was gone and opened the door. Why they consumed power was beyond him. Terrible design choice on the company's part. He quickly flipped up the laptop monitor. The rabbit in question was at the end of the hall. Again, a clatter from his right. He hit the light.
That was his final mistake.
A metallic scream was heard, then there was silence.
The clean up crew had quite a mess to fix.
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Something started licking Ethan's face. He groaned and rolled over in his bed, not wanting to move. A wet something pushed his back. He groaned again, rolling over to try and feel what was attacking him. He grabbed a snout, then sighed. A muffled bark was emitted from his dog.
"Give me a minute, Sylvia." He yawned. "I'm still tired." This wasn't the answer that his dog wanted. She hopped up on her owner, crushed him beneath her, and began to vigorously lick his face. Ethan started to laugh as he lifted his hands to fight her off. Eventually, his German Shepherd hopped off his chest and trotted over to the door and sat down, waiting patiently to go out.
Ethan ran a hand through his short brown hair, dark green eyes fluttering open as he looked around his small apartment. A couch, TV mounted on the wall, fridge, small kitchenette. Yep, everything was right where it was supposed to be. Good.
The almost 17 year old stood up, stretching and yawning as he walked over to the door. His dog barked, wagging her tail excitedly. He opened the door, and he walked into the bright hallway of his uncle's apartment complex. He was tall and skinny, but he still had a bit of muscle on his body. Long legs meant that most of his shorter friends had to essentially jog to keep up with him.
"Morning there Ethan!" Ethan's uncle Terry had beaten Ethan out of bed this morning. Surprisingly, as uncle Terry usually never got out of bed before eight, and it was only five o'clock. His room was at the end of Ethan's hall, which was on the bottom floor of the small two floor complex.
Ethan smiled and waved, still tired and not really in the mood to interact with people just yet. Still, his uncle's voice was a welcome one. "Sleep well?" Ethan shrugged, rubbing his eyes as he exited the building to the front lawn. The town where he lived wasn't small, the nearest city about twenty or thirty miles off. But even with that, some areas of the town had the small, off the beaten path feel to it, especially around the small forest behind them. Really, the place had a unique position.
The town was called Hurricane, though hurricane's definitely were not the main cause of death and destruction. Ethan had lived here all his life, gone to both the schools in the area (the elementary and middle school were conjoined) and knew all the streets as well as he knew all the DOOM games, which was quite well.
Sylvia had finished up her business and had proceeded to run back to Ethan, only before trying to chase a squirrel. Ethan chuckled at his dog. If there was one thing that Ethan could never be without, it was his dog. A birthday gift from his aunt, Sylvia had essentially become Ethan's emotional support anchor. If he was stressed, depressed, or anything else, all he had to do was make it home, sit on the couch, and cuddle her, and everything seemed to melt away.
"So, Ethan, how are you doing in school?"
Ethan chuckled again. "You saw my report card, uncle Terry. Straight B's and one A. Nothing special."
"Hmm. Any success with the ladies?"
"Uncle!" Terry laughed heartily while Ethan blushed slightly. Unluckily for him, his uncle noticed. "So there IS someone!" Ethan nodded slightly as he bent down to pet Sylvia, who was begging for attention. "I guess you could say that."
"Who is she?"
"Just a friend, jeez!" Ethan sighed. "Well, according to only us. Apparently everyone thinks that we are a thing, even her little sister."
"How old's her sister?" Ethan held up eight of his fingers for a moment.
"And even she thinks so?" Terry laughed again. "Sounds like it's meant to be."
Ethan chuckled and shook his head. "That's what everyone else says." He looked at his uncle. "Question, though. Why was that a question?"
Terry didn't respond, instead throwing the newspaper at Ethan, who caught it and looked at the page. As it happened, the page he was looking at was the "Help Wanted" page. Ethan smirked. He already saw where this was going. Then he saw the ad that he assumed that his uncle saw.
"Help Wanted. Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Family Pizzeria looking for security guard to work the night shift. 12 am to 6am. Monitor cameras ensure safety of equipment and animatronic characters. Not responsible for death or dismemberment."
Ethan cocked an eyebrow at that last part. "Oddly specific about that. Gonna have to see if I can find something on that later."
"$120 dollars a week."
"Assuming that they mean a normal five day work week, a hundred twenty averages out to about…" Ethan thought for a moment, running over the math, "about four bucks an hour? Christ, that sucks."
Terry shrugged. "Ask me, that's just fine. Stay there for a while and eventually you'll end up getting promoted, yeah?"
Ethan was still put off by the last sentence before the contact info. Whatever, he thought. Probably a prank they pulled on the newbies. But why put it in the ad?
"Well, I was heading over there today anyway to hang out with the guys, so I guess I'll talk to the manager while I'm there."
Terry nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Hey, isn't old Sinclair still there?"
"Mr. Sin? As far as I know, yeah. I'd be concerned if I heard he'd stop working." Sinclair was an old friend of Terry, and the man had worked many jobs over his life, everything from construction to a four year stint in the Army during Vietnam. Man had never not had a job.
Terry laughed. "Sounds about right.. Moment that man says he's retiring, you'll know hell's frozen over."
Ethan laughed. "That's a straight fact." He rolled his shoulders, looking at the rising sun. He turned to go back inside. "Guess I better take a shower, huh?" Terry laughed and shooed him inside.
When he got back to his larger than usual apartment that his uncle had given him rent free, he grabbed Sylvia some food and water, grabbed a towel, and laid out his more decent looking clothes. Red and black flannel shirt, a nicer pair of his jeans, and his dad's old, and almost brand new, combat boots. Ethan nodded, satisfied. Sinclair would appreciate the honesty that came with the look. Nothing too fancy.
Grabbing a towel, Ethan made his way into the bathroom, having to nudge Sylvia back into the living room. "Go lay down, attention whore." He tossed her favorite bone, and the dog went running after it, laying down and happily chewing on it after she caught it.
Ethan turned on the bath faucet as he closed the door, looking at himself in the mirror as it slowly filled up. Uncle Terry always said that his favorite (and the only) nephew looked just like his younger brother. With the few pictures that his uncle had, Ethan couldn't help but agree. The same dark, emerald green eyes, the short brown hair, even the chin looked exactly like his dad's. Almost identical.
"Kinda like Jango Fett with Boba?" That was a question that had just popped into his mind on the same Christmas that he had gotten Sylvia. Being a huge Star Wars nerd led to some goofy questions sometimes.
Ethan undressed, set an hour long timer, and gently slipped into the bath. He allowed himself to relax, staring up at the ceiling. After about fifteen minutes, he drifted to sleep.
However, his mind decided that now was a good time to torment him with old memories.
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"Dad, don't go!"
A much younger Ethan ran to his father, desperately hugging his leg in a futile attempt to prevent him from leaving.
Ethan's father smiled, tears in his eyes. "It's okay, son. You don't have to worry, alright? You're going to have mommy and uncle Terry here to take care of you. You don't have to worry about anything."
Ethan hugged his father, crying as he did so. You could tell that his father was trying to stay cool but was having a helluva time keeping it up. Little did anyone there know, but this would be the last time that Ethan's father would be with them. One final hug. The plane took off ten minutes later.
Three months later, the soldiers and the letter came. Ethan didn't fully understand what was happening at the time, but after it was explained, he felt like he was torn in half from grief.
His mother had an adverse reaction to this, however. She looked for anything to kill the pain, and that led to an alcoholic mother. Abuse came often then as Ethan reminded her too much of his father. At least, that's what he assumed was the case.
This went on for just over a month. But one night, it all changed, perhaps not for the worst, but definitely not for the better.
Ethan was woken up by the sounds of his mother sobbing in the bathroom. Now, usually Ethan stayed away from her when this happened, but for some reason, this night he got out of bed and walked to the bathroom.
That was still a decision that he regretted.
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Ethan jolted awake as his phone started ringing, blasting Trivium's "Down from the Sky." He groaned as he reached for it, luckily still having dry fingers. Answering it, he tried to sound as awake as he could.
"Gunner residence."
"Hey, I'm calling about my subscription to Guns and Bullets and an issue with your latest magazine."
Ethan chuckled as he heard his friend's voice. Guns and Bullets was a nickname he had picked up in the online gaming community, as his profile picture was the front cover of Guns and Bullets from Fallout 4. That and the fact that his playstyle in most games was spraying ammo at the other team in hopes of hitting something. Surprising to most, it worked quite well at times.
The friend calling him was Brandon, his tallest friend and basically just a giant teddy bear of a person. His voice was a deep baritone timbre, which made him sound awfully threatening at times.
"I'm sorry sir. Our correction offices don't open until eight o'clock, can you leave a message?"
Brandon laughed at the other end. "Just making sure that you're still up for the gang meet up at Freddy's, Ethan."
Ethan chuckled. "When am I not open to going to Freddy's? Come on, cheap pizza and arcade tokens? Who could say no?"
"Sounds about right, my man. Just checking. Be there at opening time?"
"Aye, I'll see y'all then."
"Alright, see you then, Ethan."
"Later Brandon."
The line clicked. Ethan set his phone down, sighing, the interview at Freddy's on his mind. The second to last line still picked at his thoughts. Why so specific in the death and dismemberment part? What the hell had happened? And why in a kids restaurant?
He snapped out of it when he heard Sylvia scratching and whining at the bathroom door. "One sec, girl." He pulled the drain plug, stood up and grabbed his towel. Almost immediately after unlocking the door, Sylvia came rushing in, laying down on the rug in front of the tub. Ethan chuckled and shook his head. Attention whore very accurately described his dog.
He shaved, combed his hair, and put on his clothes. Grabbing his keys to his truck, he walked Sylvia over to his uncle's apartment, as he had his own dog and for the fact that Sylvia had massive anxiety when it came to Ethan leaving.
Ethan hugged his uncle, patted Syliva on the head, and walked out to his vehicle. He checked the time. Seven o'clock. Freddy's didn't open until nine. Sinclair would definitely be there, however.
Might as well get this interview over.