So after watching a playthrough of FNaF: Security Breach and all of Blade Runner: Black Lotus, I decided it was time for me to return to the world of Hook Runner. Now originally, I intended this fanfic to take place between Hook Runner and Hook Runner 2049 just like Black Lotus. But due to continuity issues, it will be a prequel to both fanfics. It takes place 4 years after Security Breach, which takes place 10 years after FNaF 3 in my version of the FNaF continuity. Also, the Security Breach and Fazbear Simulator characters that appear in this fanfic will resemble the designs in Fury's Rage. There will even be occasional references to the Fazbear Frights books. So with all that said, I hope you enjoy this latest entry in my Hook Runner series!

Chapter 1: Faded Memories

A throbbing headache woke up a young man who was lying against a brick wall in an alleyway. He had medium-length light-brown hair that was tied into a ponytail, wearing a torn denim vest and jeans. Leather fingerless gloves with studded braces covered his hands, and his nails were highlighted with light-blue nail polish. With his matching blue eyes, he noticed the alleyway connected to a sidewalk full of people while above him the sky was covered in dark clouds.

"How did I get here?" The brown-haired man wondered out loud.

"You tell me," said a nearby voice.

The brown-haired man looked to his right and saw a figure emerge from the shadow of an awning. It was another young man, only this one had short golden-yellow hair, eyes the color of lavender, and he wore a pale gold shirt and pants with a purple vest.

"Who are you?" the brown-haired man asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," said the blond-haired man.

Next to the brown-haired man's feet was a puddle of dirty water, which showed his reflection. His face had significant bruises, and his lower lip was cut. Confused, the brown-haired man touched his face and the injuries felt sore implying they were real.

"It looks like you were in a fight, and a pretty bad one," the blond-haired man observed as he knelt down and examined the brown-haired man's face.

Groaning, the brown-haired man said, "But…why don't I remember the fight, or my identity?"

"Maybe you were hit in the head hard enough to temporarily lose your memories," the blond-haired man suggested. "That would explain why I don't remember anything either."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm what you might call an imaginary friend of sorts. Therefore, I know just as much as you."

"Well, that's not helpful. How long do you think it will take for my memories to come back?"

"Could be a few hours, days, maybe weeks."

A sharp crack erupted from the sky, implying it was thunder.

"Let's walk around a bit," the blond-haired man suggested. "It might help clear our heads."

"And we should find shelter before it rains," the brown-haired man added.

Nodding in agreement, the blond-haired man walked toward the sidewalk while the brown-haired man followed. They merged into the crowds with no one staring at them, especially the blond-haired man. Further up the street, they came to a large public square and were startled by a robot wearing a white hat and glasses.

"Hi, I'm Map Bot!" the robot said, holding a folded paper in his hand. "Welcome to Endopolis. Please, take a map."

The brown-haired man took the map from the robot's hand and unfolded it while the blond-haired man looked over his shoulder. It showed a fairly sizable city with several notable locations described, including a chain of restaurants called Freddy's Cafe. At the bottom of the Freddy's Cafe description was a logo of Fazbear Entertainment, which apparently owned the Freddy's Cafe restaurants.

Looking at the brown bear in the middle of the Fazbear Entertainment logo, the brown-haired man suddenly recalled being inside a tube with a small boy. Then he remembered fighting someone in a white rabbit costume, and a young man with purple hair crying out a name to him before the purple-haired man got dragged away by a large hand with black claws.

"Are you okay?" the blond-haired man asked. "You're staring at nothing."

"I think my memories are coming back, but they're very faint," said the brown-haired man.

"That's great! What do you remember?"

"A boy, a white rabbit, and a name. I'm pretty sure it's my name, because the person who said it was addressing me."

"What was it?"

"Fredi."

"Ah, so your name is Fredi. And now I'm remembering my name too. It's…Glenn Trapp."

"Glenn Trapp?"

"Yes."

"How come you remember your first and last name, while I only remember my first name?"

"I'm sure you'll remember your last name soon enough."

Suddenly, another sharp crack of thunder erupted. This was followed by a few drops of rain appearing on the pavement. Filled with a strange instinctual fear of the rain, Fredi ran over to a nearby hot dog stand with Glenn keeping pace. They stood under the hot dog stand's umbrella covering as the rain increased to an instant downpour. Fredi sighed with relief and put his hands in his vest pockets. When he did this, he felt something and pulled out a black camera that was smaller than the palm of his hand. But when Fredi pushed the power button, a message appeared on the camera screen saying, 'please enter passcode' with four blank spaces underneath.

"The camera must be user-locked," Glenn guessed. "You have to guess the right combination of numbers to look at the camera's contents."

"I can see that, but why was it in my vest pocket?" Fredi turned the camera around in his hands, looking for any sign of ownership. "Was this mine?"

"Could be, but I wouldn't try to enter a combination until we're absolutely sure. Because if you guess the combination wrong three times, the camera locks up permanently."

"How do you know this?"

"I know I've seen one of these cameras before. And by that, I mean we have seen this camera."

"Hey, buddy," said the hot dog stand owner. "Are you going to keep talking to yourself, or order something already?"

Before Fredi could answer, someone grabbed his hand with the camera still in it. The person was a Hispanic man standing next to him with a white undershirt, black pants, and purple headscarf.

"That's a fancy-looking camera you got there," the Hispanic man noted. "How much do you want for it?"

"It's not for sale," Fredi insisted, wrestling his hand out of the Hispanic man's grasp.

"Really?" From behind the Hispanic man emerged a small green-haired girl wearing an olive-green hoodie and yellow-and-orange striped stockings with neon-green sneakers. "Because we overheard you saying that you don't know if it's yours or not. So what's the harm in having us take it off your hands?"

As she spoke, the green-haired girl pulled out a switchblade and pointed it at Fredi's gut.

To be continued…