Jeremy's eyes opened. His head… ached. In fact, so did the back of his neck. He groaned as he tried to push himself out of bed.

Wait. His bed was hard. Or cold. His eyes fluttered open. He wasn't in his bed. In fact, judging by the dirty tiled floor, he wasn't even in his bedroom. He lifted his head up slightly, his nose wrinkling when he got a whiff of the aroma of the room. He tried to think about last night. He was just walking back to his apartment after picking up his groceries for tomorrow, planning to head straight to bed, when he felt something pierce his neck…

Oh, God. Had he been drugged? And kidnapped? Shit, were his kidneys already gone? He stood up quickly. It made the headache worse, but he didn't care. He needed to observe his surroundings. He started spinning around, trying to see if anything caught his eye. As a matter of fact, something did. Namely a TV, stood atop a stool.

Jeremy squinted. What the hell was a TV doing here? Were his kidnappers making sure he kept up with the news or some crap? Before he could even consider turning it on, though, it suddenly burst into static. The static quickly dispersed. Now, it was showing… a doll. One with red eyes, red spirals on its cheeks, and black hair.

"Hello, Mr. Fitzgerald." The doll's voice, bizarrely, was deep. Almost sounded like a demon. "Or, as you're called by those who wish to reach out to you, Jeremy. It's time to play a game."

Jeremy blinked. He was already telling himself that this was just some weird-ass dream, but it didn't feel fake. It felt real. Arguably more real than anything else since the accident.

"You may be wondering why you have woken up here, in a cold and empty place." The doll didn't emote at all, but he could only imagine the guy voicing it was scowling. "I am here to help you. 19 years ago, you worked in Freddy Fazbear's Pizza as a night guard before being promoted to the day shift. And on the 28th of October in 1987, you witnessed a horrible accident that occurred to a fellow worker."

Jeremy froze. He was talking about the Bite of 87. That was when an animatronic - its name was the Mangle, if he remembered correctly - took a bite out of a co-worker's head. Took out his frontal lobe. He lived, but he was never the same afterwards. And, to be honest, neither was Jeremy.

"The event scarred you, arguably just as much as your co-worker." Clearly, the freak doing the voice for the doll had done their research. "Ever since it occurred, you have become a shut-in, only ever leaving the house to acquire basic needs. Anyone who tried to reach out to you, you've ignored. Is it because you fear losing another friend? Or because you blame yourself for not being able to save your friend? Do you even know?"

Jeremy stared at the screen, eyes wide. The worst part about all of this wasn't even the fact that he had been kidnapped, as disturbing as that fact was. It was that this guy seemed to know everything about him. Right down to the fact that he didn't know why he didn't want to fraternise with anyone else.

"Regardless, I want you to live your life. To no longer live like a ghost. And sometimes, a sacrifice is needed." The screen briefly burst into static, revealing someone strapped to a table. They were wearing some kind of helmet that had a few metal spikes… nearly digging into his skull. Wait a minute… oh, God. The man on the table… was him.

"The helmet you are wearing has a timer. In three minutes, several spikes will stab themselves into your head, and converge in your frontal lobe. However, unlike your friend…" The video cut back to the doll, putting a face back to the voice. "You will not survive."

Jeremy started to shake. Thankfully, even though it felt like it was going to happen, he didn't pass out from shock. Good thing, too. It let him hear the next part.

"There is, however, a way out. Behind you is a narrow pipe. At the bottom, there is a weighted scale that can be activated with the weight of a human hand. Doing so will provide you with a key to be used in a keyhole at the back of the helmet. It is too deep to activate normally, though. But I'll get you a hint…" The doll almost seemed to lean forward. "The second star to the right."

Jeremy slowly approached the TV. What the hell did that mean?

"Live or die. Make your choice." The image disappeared. Jeremy took a few steps back, before he noticed a digital clock on the wall. It read 2:58… and it was counting down.

Jeremy started to look around, the doll's words echoing in his head. Second star to the right? What did that mean? Did it have something to do with space? Astrology? And how was that supposed to…

Wait. Now that he thought about it, he had heard of that phrase before. They had played it once in Freddy Fazbear's Pizza during a 'movie day' to keep the kids quiet. Walt Disney's Peter Pan. He looked up at the ceiling. It had several planets painted on it, all in a vertical line. He looked to the right of them. Hey, there was something next to a star drawing. It was… a hand, next to a saw.

Jeremy turned around and saw the pipe that the doll had mentioned. Next to it was… a saw.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what he needed to do next. However, even though his stomach sank with the realisation, he knew that he needed to do it.

Slowly, he walked over to the saw and picked it up. He inhaled shakily as he placed his hand flat on the wall. Holding the saw in his other hand, he steadily brought it towards his hand. The cold steel had only lightly grazed his flesh before he pulled it back. The fear was holding him back. He tried again. He didn't even feel the metal before he pulled it back.

Why can't you do it?! He screamed in his head. It's either this or death!

He looked back behind him. The clock now read 1:10. Right, whether he liked it or not, he needed to do this. He brought the saw to his wrist and started moving it back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. When he saw the blood starting to pool out he looked away.

Just think about how relieved you'll be when you get out and the creep who did this is behind bars. He sped up the sawing as he bit his lip. Eventually, after what felt like a whole minute, he heard something fall to the ground. He quickly looked down. There was his hand, lying severed on the ground. Throwing away the saw, he grabbed his hand - he cringed as he felt how cold it had gotten already - and threw it down the pipe. After a few seconds, he heard something metal hit the ground behind him. He bent down and grabbed it. The key.

Jeremy allowed himself to smile. "Thank you, God." He brought the key behind the helmet and placed it in the keyhole. Just needed to turn it and-

That's when he heard a sound. He slowly brought the key back into his view. Half of it was missing. His face drained of all blood when he realised what had happened.

The clock now read 0:15. Jeremy finally gave in. He started screaming as he fell to his knees. He started pulling at the helmet, hoping that would somehow help him.

"No!" He cried. Then he noticed something he had somehow missed. A camera in the corner. Pointed right at him. His face hardened.

"Who are you?" The clock was running out of time, but he continued to focus on the camera. "Who are you-"

Suddenly, several spikes stabbed him through the head. He went stiff for a moment, before falling onto his stomach. Blood started to pool out of his head and onto the ground. After that, all was quiet. Except for a door being opened. Followed by the sound of footsteps.