Chapter 1

Life.

Something to cherish.

Something to enjoy to its fullest.

Some people go about it with friends and family as a memorable experience.

Others like to risk it all with the tendency to throw themselves off cliffs and out of planes, turning life into an epic adventure.

I try to take it as it goes, easy and simple, almost boring. But what was there to change? Graduating top of my class from high school, a nice job at the local diner with my best friend, a reliable car to take me anywhere I wanted to go, and splitting rent with my brother.

Couldn't be better.

But things change I guess...

Randy's Diner shut down six months after I got hired. Rosaline moved off to Texas with her boyfriend. I was left with no job, my only friend gone, and rent on the way.

I was depressed. With only a high school degree and only six months work experience, no place was looking to hire me at the end of the year.

My luck changed however when my brother got a new position work. Mike had come home singing the praises of the day shift. No more long nights. Bigger pay check. Free pizza and drinks at the end of the day.

It was the best news we had gotten in a long while. Even better though was when he mentioned that management was looking for someone to replace the night guard position. It was a position I could fill easily. I was already a night owl, staying awake all hours of the night because that's what was easier. Guarding the place? Who would want to even break into the place besides some teens wanting a peak at the "cursed" pizzeria after hours? They would be easy enough to scare off and it doesn't take a genius to call 911 or beat someone off with a nightstick.

When I mentioned my idea to Mikey, he acted... off.

"Don't you remember how many times I came home exhausted from being there all night?"

I like the late hours. I'd sleep all day if I could already.

"The pay wasn't that great either. It felt like my kid sister was bringing in more dough than I was. How's that for my big brother image huh?"

He just got promoted. More pay for less hours and at hours he enjoyed. I would be making less now, but it would still be money coming in.

"And weren't you looking forward to working at the library or something? I thought you had your heart set on it."

It would've been nice if they had any positions open.

Every excuse was met with a good argument. Every complaint was met with a explanation of how it would work better for me.

He had no way of keeping from that job.

But when he started mentioning the rumors? The police reports? Tales of missing children, murderers, and glitchy electronics. Whispers of ghosts and vengeful animatronics.

I swore he'd lost it.

I let it go though. We went our separate ways and spent the rest of the day in comfortable silence.

The next day I met with management behind my brother's back.

I got the job.

I thought nothing could really go wrong in a place called "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza." All that stuff happened years ago.

But I was wrong.

So, so wrong.

*groan*

Sweat drips off my brow as I dive for the door controls, Bonnie had almost gotten in again. He stands there still, pawing at the metal keeping him separate from me. The camera tablet is clutched tightly to my chest, acting as a wall to keep my heart from beating out its flesh shell.

Pots and pans clatter together in the distance. The telltale sign that Chica is moving in the kitchen. How appropriate for the chicken wearing a bib that states "Let's Eat."

I climb back over to the chair, taking a deep breath to try and center myself.

"Okay, Mr. Freddy," I breathe, "you better still be there."

Placing the tablet in front of myself again I set the feed to the stage camera.

I feel the blood drain from my face.

He's still there. Staring. Staring right at the camera.

Those shadowed eyes were staring right at me.

In a panic I change the feed over to Pirate's Cove. The view of the closed thick curtains allows me to sigh in relief. Foxy hadn't made an appearance.

I thought I was prepared for anything. I thought those tape recordings were just a hazing ritual for night guards.

But now with the clock ticking past three in the morning and the power generator lingering around fifty percent, I realize just how unprepared I am.

Why hadn't I listened to Mike?

Now it looks like my life is over.