I Don't Own Fnaf
I'll be posting these chapters daily until I catch up on my stock, then it'll be once every Thursday for updates.
Micha- Mike, took to wearing a thick scarf that went up a bit past his chin for his... job interview, to help cover his lower face, it was late enough in the year for it to be excused, even if the idea of just what kind of interview he was going in for made him feel a bit sick, to come to this business, even under an assumed name, but he needed cash and information, and Freddy's needed a new night guard.
The place was practically abandoned, the old animatronics, ones he knew better than most, as he had been there, growing up as they had been created, were on the stage, looking about as broken down as possible while still being usable.
It made Mike's stomach roll and a pang of sadness run through him at the sight of them in such a state, hearing that Foxy was broken down beyond repairs, behind an out of order curtain, that he couldn't even see the animatronic. That fox had always been his favorite, but he had liked them all, sure he had bullied Evan over those stuffed animals, called them childish but... there were other reasons behind that than just being a jerk about some plushies. Mike had always been resentful over the childhood only he seemed to not be allowed to have in the Afton household.
The point stood, seeing them here, clearly half broken, hurt something in his chest. He could still remember how they were when they were brand new, it made seeing the parts that had been replaced, the pieces that hadn't been repaired right, more obvious. Chica's arms weren't quite the right color, Bonnie's face was crooked, Freddy was the only one who seemed to have gotten proper maintenance, but that wasn't saying much. There were patches on his outer suit that clearly had been just filled in with fabrics, and with all the inner machines in those things that made up the endoskeletons, Mike couldn't help but wonder if it was a fire hazard.
He wondered if the people now in-charge of his family's company even cared. The walls were disgusting, caked with half a layer of grime, the once nice and heart warming sights of the drawings from kids were nearly yellow with age, the place honestly stunk, like there was something rotting somewhere, it was worse by the stage to be honest when he had be wandering around the place, seeing only one or two families staying around as he moved about to do his interview.
They didn't exactly seem to be enjoying themselves.
Thankfully it went by quick, apparently his not so great copies were enough to get the job, he honestly barely said a word, just mentioned he wanted the position because he needed the money. The man on the other side of the desk, the head manager at this location, only location really, something Mike assumed meant he was probably one of the few people trying to keep the place running, looked about as desperate for the idea of anyone looking for work that Mike hadn't said much more than that before the uniform and a badge had been tossed to him.
He had been told his hours, and that was it. Midnight to six, Monday through Friday, with optional Saturdays, which Mike instantly signed up for, despite the look of uncomfortableness on the other man's face. He just ignored it, Mike needed all the overtime he could get. He could handle it, he's certainly been through worse than watching over a practically abandoned building. It was a bit weird to be on the side of upholding the law, but that just meant Mike knew what to look out for better in his own opinion.
Besides, even if something did happen and for some strange reason someone tried to break in, then, well, Michael might have let his education slip, but he had been a jock in the one year of high school he had, and if there was one thing that prison did, it kept you in shape if you didn't want to be a punching bag on occasion. It didn't always work, but that didn't mean Mike didn't know how to throw a proper punch if he had to, and he certainly knew how to take a beating and keep going.
So, no, he wasn't all that worried about the gig, it just meant that he would be on his own at night for six hours, which would give him plenty of time to look around and be able to snoop to see if he could find anything from the parts and service room on how to fix up an older suit like Fredbear.
Now all he had to do was return that night and get to work, if only it was that simple, he had another place to visit, to check in on as it were, but... He couldn't quite bring himself to do that just yet, no matter how easy it might make things for him, he just wasn't ready, so instead he took the bus and managed to get back to the old broken down diner around the middle of the afternoon, a small bag of items in his left hand as he slipped around the back to make sure he hadn't been seen before slipping into the old diner.
He found his way back to the backroom as easily as he had before, staring at the unmoved suit before taking a deep breath in, then out, before moving forwards, placing the bag on the ground, before slowly speaking, unsure if the bear was listening, but wanting to talk to him anyways. It had been so long since he had talked to his brother, he would take every chance he could now to do so, no matter the form.
"Hey... I'm gonna get you cleaned up a bit alright? And see just how much you're... missing" The bear still didn't react, so Mike just got to work, doing difficult things weren't often something he struggled with, making hard choices was a daily occurrence for him, choosing between what to spend his meager funds on meant he was used to making choices between poor decisions, and even more following through with them once he started, but this was hard.
The stuff he had brought in the bag were just some basic cleaners that he half remembered being used on the suits, given the fur that made the outermost layer was... sensitive to some harsher products, it meant that they were required to have a certain level of maintenance. Mike had been 'asked' to do it a few times when he was younger when he had been particularly in trouble, so he knew what he was doing. Though, it used to be from grease, now it was... Not that.
The suit was heavy, he had to move it to get at joints, and... to get it away from the slowly growing pool of red underneath it when he had to use some water to break up the blood. He had to take several breaks, barely keeping himself together when he did, having to leave the room to take in large gulps of air to keep himself from freaking out, but he always returned and got back to work within ten minutes. Because no matter how bad it was for him, it couldn't be worse than being covered in your own blood for over eight years.
The worst part was the mouth, it was... bad.
Mike hadn't been much of a great talker, a life like his made him much more likely to say whatever was on his mind, often being much too snarky or harsh for other people to want to keep in a conversation with him, so he was a bit out of practice outside of simple banter that some of his 'friends' liked to use to talk to each other. Which was more just teasing each other until one pulled a weapon.
Mike was thankfully more than tall enough for that to not be much of a worry for him, he was intimidating, or at least so he's been told. Still, it made the hours of cleaning feel... weird, he tried to make comments, even joking around when he was nearing the point of needing a break, trying to use humor to distance himself from... Well, everything. It helped more than he thought it should, but it didn't make the situation less awkward for anyone involved.
He didn't want to think about just what it was like for Evan, trapped in that suit, he didn't want to know what it felt like to have to be washed down and cleaned, especially the.. insides of the suit. The idea of it made Mike's guts squirm past a point that would be considered comfortable. He just hoped the kid would feel better afterwards, being clean again, even if it was in a way Mike was sure no one else could hope to understand. He hoped it was like a shower after a very long day out in the dirt.
He had to stop, even after working for hours at it, the insides were going to be just as bad, if not worse than what was on the outside from the small bit he had managed to see from the inner mouth of the suit, and it was already approaching eleven, he needed to catch another bus before he was late for his first day.
Mike explained, over the course of the hours of cleaning just what all he was doing, half needing to break the silence and his own thoughts and half needing Evan to know he was serious about all this, that he was doing everything he could as soon as he could.
He knew he could be doing more, but he couldn't take much more today, tomorrow... Tomorrow was another day, then he would go and do what he had to, if he didn't talk himself out of it and spend the evening after sleeping off his soon approaching graveyard shift washing up Fredbear again.
He probably should do that anyways, it was only right.
Yeah, it could wait another day, but for now, he just wanted a boring, if hopefully informative, night at his new job.
The night guard uniform was an ungodly shade of purple that had been thankfully muted by wear and tear, showing it's worn down points around the elbows, said uniform was really just a big jacket that only just long enough on Michael's tall body, with a few patches showing off his title and not much else. It was also way more appealing to Mike than it should be to anyone else. It was familiar, and while most would find it gross, given it's clearly a well used uniform, it was also the same one he saw back when he was a kid, back when the night guards had first been introduced to that second location, Juniors.
Back when the four animatronics in the building he was now approaching, had been in perfect condition.
Though, Michael couldn't help but frown, just a bit, noticing just how... frayed the edges were as well, he couldn't see the outfit well, he had only tossed it on on the way to the pizzeria, and it was already more than late enough that in the dark light, he could only sort of see the clear stains that were around the back of the uniform. Strange.
Last guy must have slipped onto his back into something, unimportant though. There was also a fair number of clear stitches along it as well.
Thankfully Michael was more than used to wearing incredibly old clothing, though it really just showed how cheap the company had become in the last few years after both Henry and his Father had vanished into the air. Couldn't they at least afford another uniform?
Maybe Mike shouldn't say anything about being able to afford things though, he was functionally homeless at the moment. He hadn't... exactly thought he'd be around long enough to care about keeping up on his rent for his apartment, so he only had a few days before he was kicked out when the landlord finally came down to scream at him to get out.
That was fine, that was under an Afton name, and the sooner he could get that to disappear the better, it didn't help though that he was a spitting image of his father, even if he was more lean than William's heavier body, their faces were quite close. It was something Mike didn't know how to deal with, but he already had enough of that as it was, he'd just keep himself on the down low.
With that thought, it was a good thing he was working alone, really, as he walked into the pizzeria finally, looking around before glancing at a nearby wall clock, he had another fifteen minutes before his shift started, no one else was around, the cleaning crew long since gone it seemed... If there even was any, the place didn't seem to get enough people in it to warrant a full staff for something like that.
All the same, he was tired and mostly, really, needed an easy night after his evening, so he ended up just settling himself into the back office that functioned as the guard post, there were a few things to note.
The doors being the main ones, they were... intense. Thick steel plates that when he fiddled with the strange buttons on the side, made him realize they were doors in the first place. The built in lights made him question the purpose of that as well, but after a moment decided if everything was by camera, then he didn't really need to walk around with a flashlight.
Said cameras were easy enough to find, they were connected to a central tablet that was connected by a thick cord into the desk, which he tracked the wire going from into the wall, probably connecting to the cameras all directly. At least the feed was clear enough to make out the important details, as he scouted through them for a moment, just to get a feel before setting the tablet down. He'd check in a bit once his shift started, but he doubted anything would happen.
Then, at the hit of midnight, the phone rang and everything changed.
Mike stumbled into his apartment, half falling onto his crappy bed before passing out immediately, the constant adrenaline surge of the last six hours had meant the second he didn't have to function, his body stopped and shut down immediately.
Waking up had been an experience not worth repeating, the memories of the last night hadn't been much better, he had been stuck in his office the entire time, the second he ever thought he was safe enough, one of the cast appeared in the halls and kept him in place. It was... terrifying, the man over the phone, Mike swore he knew the man, or at least heard his voice before, but hearing his... description of what would happen to Mike if he got caught by any of the four.
Mike knew all too well just what happened to a person when they were jammed into an unstable suit, and while he tried not only a few days ago to... relive the experience, he had something to live for now, and had no interest in getting himself killed. Still, he wasn't sure he wanted to stay at the place, it seemed incredibly foolish in all honesty to even attempt something like that.
His life didn't have much value, but he was the only one who knew about Evan, not only that, he really did need the job, not only for the cash but the information he could find there.
But it wasn't his... only option. The thought of that though made the already pounding thoughts in Michael's head hurt even worse, he knew he had been stalling, but that was because he didn't think he'd need to go there so soon.
It was too much, the last few days was just one thing after another, killer animatronics that Mike knew for a fact never had those issues in the past, he practically grew up around the things, back when his father had to pull more than a few over nights. On top of his most recent suicide attempt only to be stopped by his dead brother who was inside the suit Michael had used to kill said brother...
It took longer than he liked to finally pull himself out of his horrible and creaky bed, finally getting ready for the day. It was already well past noon, he had to get moving, had to get back to that place, to see if he was working another night shift.
It was time for Michael Afton to go home.
Mike Schmidt already wanted to leave and he wasn't even there yet.
It was too quick of a ride over, as he found himself standing on the block, staring ahead at the house in front of him. It was worn down, the yard out of control, dust covered the windows, and no sight of life anywhere in sight. The only thing that was to note was a weathered down for sale sign out in the front. His father would have sold it, the man was too careful, hated more than anything to leave something unfinished, meaning... Mike didn't continue the thought, instead he just moved around the side of the house, keeping his head down as he moved quickly to not gather too much attention.
He soon found his bedroom window, it was boarded up, apparently his father never got it fixed after the last time Mike had broken it before he had finally been arrested to await his trial.
The wooden board had been half rotted from rain making it easy to pull it away to reveal his room, the only thing different about it surprisingly was the level of mold that had crawled it's way around the sealed window onto the wall paper, making it smell incredibly like mildew as Mike quickly scaled through the window, landing onto his feet as he looked around quietly, his heart not pounding surprisingly like he thought it would being back here, back in this room.
Instead, he just felt... Sad, it was the best way to describe it, along with a creeping sense of dread, as he moved around, looking at the ruined posters on the walls, his old desk, still holding a few school notebooks that had more doodles in them than actual notes. It seemed like it had never been touched after he was kicked out, Mike wasn't sure how he felt about that, the memory of his father's near murderous glint in his eyes as he threw Mike out the door clashing harshly into the front of his mind with the idea that his father never threw his stuff away.
Mike decided to push the thoughts to the side for the time being, instead heading out of the room, looking around and noting quickly it wasn't just his room that was left alone. Sure more than a few things had been moved around, but nothing was missing, the pictures were still on the walls, even ones that had him in it, which he had figured out had been the first to go.
Of course there were some new things, a couple updated appliances, the couch had been replaced, but beyond that... nothing was touched, even a clear layer of dust had formed over more than a few things. The report Mike had seen when he went down the rabbit hole of trying to find out what happened to his family said William had been noted to have vanished around four years ago. He couldn't remember the exact date, only remembering at the moment it had been early in the year, but still.
It was at the end of 1991 right now, meaning the house hadn't been touched since somewhere between '87 and '88.
It hit Mike all at once then, his family was gone, there was a good chance his father was dead wasn't there? His father never would have let this house, the house Mike's mom died in, the house that took everyone from the man, like this, no matter how much the tragedy, Mike's father would have sold everything first, but never let everything fall to pieces, he'd rather die than show the world that.
They were all dead, Michael killed his entire family hadn't he? Within one day, he ruined everything.
He couldn't breath for a moment, like the air had been robbed from him as he fell onto the new but now old couch and did his best to get himself under control, but all he could do was stare ahead, at the mantle in the living room, staring up at the pictures of them all, back when they were happy.
He was crying, Mike dimly realized that at some point, but couldn't keep the response down, not now, he knew it had been a bad decision to come here.
He couldn't take it, he couldn't stay here, he'd go mad, do something stupid, which wasn't something he could afford right now, as he pulled himself up onto his feet, rubbing at his stinging eyes with a hateful grunt at his own weakness, it had been years since he last cried, and now in a week it was like he couldn't help himself. Stumbling away from the living room, he quickly headed away, to the staircase, heading up to where the office was.
It's where his father had kept everything of importance after all, if there was going to be anything of value, it would be in there. Perhaps if Mike was lucky, there'd even be a safety stash of cash he could use, his father had always been the careful type, always having something in case of emergency after all.
The door was locked, but that only stopped Mike long enough to pull out a card to jimmy the lock with, within a minute it swung open as he walked inside. It was... bare. He had never been allowed much in here when he was younger, but it still felt... less than it had been. Less cluttered with half a dozen papers at least, but there was still a solid line of filing cabinets along the right wall.
Unlabeled, but that was fine, Mike just took a deep breath, moving over and quickly looking through them, more skimming than anything, the first few were just filled to the brim with financials, a far portion full of things that had happened after... After '83. Mike hadn't been tempted enough to look through them much, noting a few documents about a number of things but nothing that would help him now, they all were outdated by several years, nothing to be found of importance that was for sure.
The next one had patents, most all of them in his Father's name, but a few in Henry's as well, a few blueprints to be found as well, a couple models that he didn't recognize but put back quickly enough after spending just enough time to see that they had nothing to do with the springlock designs that Mike was after. There was also... The rights and trademarks to most of the animatronics, not all of them, none of the newest were in the drawer, from Henry's last attempt to keep the company on the right track, but enough that it was startling to see them all... Those had caught Mike's interest, if only because of what was on them.
Of course they had to be out of date, Fazbear Entertainment clearly wasn't run by the two founders any longer and probably had bought or rewrote the rights even when either of the two were still around, because there was no way Michael Afton's name was suppose to be put down on most of the papers along with both William Afton and Henry Emily's name, not to mention the clear aging on most of them. Mike's father had probably figured that in case something happened, an Afton should hold power in the company, Henry seemed to hold the same estimate it seemed, cause some, like the one with rights over Chica, a sole creation of Henry's, had Charlie's and Sam's names listed as well.
Had... Had the two men planned to leave their life's work to their children? If that was the case, it made sense why Mike's name was on there, he was the oldest by six years to Elizabeth who even had a year on Evan, he'd have been an adult to take up a role long before either of the other two.
The thought of that made something twist in his gut hard enough that he shoved the papers away, they were useless to him now, no doubt his father had changed them. The man had cut him off of everything, made it known even that Mike was out of his Will, when on some of Mike's worse days in jail he tried to call the house to speak to someone, anyone.
Mike had stopped calling after hearing that, it hurt too much to wonder what else his father would tell him, much less hear it from the man himself. Everything had probably gone to Henry in the end who would have sold it off to Fazbear Entertainment no doubt, so there was no reason to think about it. It didn't matter anyways, they weren't what he was here for.
Mike moved to the next file cabinet and finally struck some kind of gold, the old blueprints of the original four, a few mock designs of them and a ton of notes, as well as a few papers on nearly two decades old graph paper on one of the springlock suits. It was for Spring Bonnie, not the one he was looking for, but it was enough to give him an idea of just what he needed right? After all, the two suits were basically the same on the inside.
He quickly went through the rest of the cabinet, finding whatever else he could find on them, which was surprisingly little to his disappointment, before shoving them into a bag he had brought with him. The only other things in the end found were notes, mostly holding numbers that held no interest in him, they were just written down seemingly at random before tossed into the files drawers without much to show what they were supposed to be to or for.
He had been ready to leave the surprisingly cold room, before stopping, just for a moment, before heading back to head to the main desk, deciding he should just make sure he wasn't missing anything, he couldn't imagine coming back here again, not any time soon at least.
There wasn't much to be seen, a few spare parts and a number of tools mostly for sketching out designs, there was a full drawer filled to the brim with unused graph paper. No cash, something Mike shouldn't have felt so disappointed about as he did.
In the end, he barely had enough of an idea to maybe figure out what was missing from Fredbear's springlocks, though that did nothing for the Spring based endoskeleton the suit was probably broken beyond Mike's idea of repair and missing multiple parts as well as all the broken parts inside of it, not to mention unless he wanted to try and file for his father to be pounced dead, something that would bring the name Afton back into the spotlight so harshly that Mike would rather another four years in prison, he could hardly legally sell anything in the house.
Hell, the house had probably been bought back by the bank if it was trying to be sold without anything being moved out of it or repaired, meaning he was already breaking several laws just being here, the only thing that he would get anything by trying to get his father recognized as dead was a mob to run him out of town.
As much as the idea made him feel quite literally ill with nerves, he'd have to go back for another night, as many nights it seemed as it took for him to be able to get what he needed and as well enough cash to be able to get what he needed.
That was fine, it had to be.
So with that, he moved, leaving the office and quickly heading back down stairs to get out through the back window. He had to go back to Evan and finish cleaning him up anyways before his shift started, maybe as well open... open Fredbear up and see what the damage was like properly.
That thought was what really made him feel the most ill, and yet he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen all the same. He'd need it to be able to see everything that was inside the suit, besides if last night taught him anything, Mike would need to conserve as much power as possible during his shifts, and those door lights clearly in the long run weren't good for his health.
The rest of the cleaning was just as bad as he thought it would be, it took hours, years of build up and rust along with more gunk that Mike would ever like to so much as think about had built up inside the thing that somehow blood was the last thing he thought about. Lunch, or rather a early dinner was also far away from anything on his mind as he worked, thankful to himself for also finding a pair of kitchen gloves back at the house as well to use so his hands were coated in the stuff like they had been yesterday.
The only thing of note that happened that wasn't cleaning, or at least not solely cleaning related that happened was that Mike finally took a look around the old Diner, there was hardly anything left, the tables, chairs, and even ovens had been moved out at some point, but luckily he did find an old crank in the back that had been made to prime the springlock suits to be able to be worn.
It was also used to open them up.
Michael apologized to his brother more than once, feeling the creaking old gears of the suit to pry the back of it open, he was sure he was doing more damage than good at the time, but that was before he saw the state of the insides and decided that it had to be worth it, hence the hours of cleaning that followed as mentioned before.
Honestly the whole thing was slightly terrifying, Mike was half sure the only reason the suit hadn't snapped shut over his arms was because of just how rusted the springs were that they just couldn't snap into place like they should have been able to in their prime. The mostly missing spring part of the springlocks probably helped as well to be honest.
He still made sure to keep the locks wound tight as they could get anyways.
By the time night had long since fallen, he had cleaned up most of the inside, but there was more than a bit left, it seemed almost never ending in all honesty, yet Mike, when he carefully unlocked the springs and let the suit close up to pull Fredbear back into a sitting position, said still.
"Sorry it's taking so long, I'll get the rest tomorrow, I have to go back in for work again, this time hopefully the four will leave me alone... I'm not too hopeful about it though" He had been telling Evan throughout the cleaning about what happened the night before, he hadn't mentioned the house though, the kid probably had as many bad memories there as he did, worse even given... Mike.
"Anyways, I'll see you then Ev" Mike was ready to head on out when the breaking and static sounds returned again from behind him, nearly giving him a jump as he spun back around and saw the lights were back.
For a moment Mike didn't like remembering just how close those pinpricks of light looked like the four at the pizzeria's eyes when they were a bit too close to the cameras. He moved back over towards Fredbear anyways, leaning down and waiting as the static continued to groan, unsure what was trying to be said.
"Are... are you ok?" The static... muffled... Mike took that as a yes, as he asked again.
"Is something the matter then?" The sound increased, right... So loud was yes, quiet was no... Mike could work with this, though he'd rather have his first real conversation with his brother be with actual words, there was a much to giddy part of him too excited to see the suit responding again, making sure Mike knew he wasn't crazy, there really was something happening here, he hadn't just imagined it and had gone off the deep end, or at least not to far off to make up his brother being in a bear suit.
"Is it something I said?" The sound grew again as Mike tried to figure out just what it was supposed to be the issue of... Then Mike finally noticed where the suit's eyes were pointed at... It was his jacket...
"Are you worried about Freddy's?" The static spiked loud enough that Mike felt like his ears were going to pop for a moment, and even as the sound dulled, it didn't stop the headache that quickly formed behind his eyes. He shook it off quick enough, well, not really, but he could pretend, he was good at acting like he was fine, Mike learned how to pretend a long time ago, and he's only gotten better.
"It'll be fine, I'll be alright, I need the job Evan" The static fell to a near silence as Mike frowned for a moment, no? What was he answering, Mike hadn't asked a question... A thought occurred to him for a moment before as he asked, with a sinking heart, for clarification, "You don't care if I get hurt do you?"
Another large spike, not enough to hurt, but bad enough on his still sore ears as Mike was left here in faint shock before finally shaking his head. He had no right to think the kid would be worried about him, Mike killed him, no amount of actions would make up for that. Still... That meant something else here was happening then if Evan wasn't worried about Michael being hurt, then what was he worried about in a place he's never been to?
No, Mike was overthinking this. This ghost stuff was messing with him, it was simple.
It didn't take a genius to figure out Evan just cared if Mike wasn't around to repair him anymore.
That was fine, it was the only reason Michael was sticking around after all.
"Right, well I still won't let them kill me, thanks for the concern though, really helps" The quip came before he could help it, standing up trying to brush off the hurt that still pulsed through his chest, this time emotional far more than anything physical as Mike quickly moved out of the room, not needing to be around anymore if he didn't want to be late.
The fredbear suit just watched the man leave, wondering briefly how the man could be so blind before slowly powering back off, that little stint in communication had burned away the faint bit of energy Golden Freddy had accumulated over the last few days, it was far faster than it had been before, the cleaning of his suit in general was more maintenance than he had seen ever compared to any of the others, and it clearly helped.
But it wasn't enough yet.
That was fine, they already knew what was going to happen, knew what to do, it wouldn't be long now.
Annoying brothers or not, nothing would stop them now.
The second night was harder, and apparently according to the guy on the phone, the only source of messed up comfort he had, it would only get harder and harder as the week progressed, that didn't make Mike feel much better about all of this, but he at least managed. Foxy tried his first run tonight, that had been terrifying, hearing that dull hook slash and scrap over the outside of the doors before finally moving away. Seeing the shape of him through the cameras had been rough as well, seeing the horrible shape of the animatronic was hard.
It was also probably the only reason he was still alive, he barely caught the fox moving, and if the animatronic was in perfect shape, then Mike could only imagine just how fast Foxy would move then.
Either way, this time he managed to survive with a much larger portion of power remaining, as he moved out of the office the clock slowly ticked a few minutes past six. He had a bit of time before the day crew arrived, meaning he had to do this now.
Heading around, moving towards where he saw the parts and services room on the camera, the halls felt more haunting now that he had seen the four move through them over the course of two nights. The echoing steps compared to the crashing of footsteps he had heard from before, it was... not fun, as he headed forwards, finding the employee only room, before pushing it in and strolling inside.
It was honestly about as horrifying as it felt to be in here as it had been to look at it in the cameras. The heads on the walls didn't help, the free standing endo was helpful though, as Mike quickly moved around, heading to see if he could find anything to help him out in the drawers, there had to be instructions somewhere right?
If not, then Mike would probably have to look through one of the last few locations, no doubt they had been stripped of anything of use like the Diner had been, while anything that wasn't had been left behind to rot. The best bet would be Juniors, the first place that this cast had worked at, well over a decade ago now. It was strange to think about, as he moved through the parts, absently looking over the endo, not knowing at all what he was supposed to do.
Maybe he could just shove this metal skeleton into Fredbear and hope for the best? That didn't sound like a good idea, but really, the outer shell that made the suits were replaceable, incredibly so, but it's the endoskeletons that usually defined everything, those things were much harder to replace and mess with.
The thought that he was in over his head came to pass again, but Mike just shook his head, it wasn't important, it didn't matter, he had to do it anyways right, so there was no point in thinking about it.
With that he continued to look through the items littered about, nothing that would help him out in the long run, but he did find some plans for the endoskeletons, of course, he already had those from his father's house, but maybe he could compare to the two and see if there was anything missing from both? His father had notes all over the corners about things he had noted when he helped build them, but these ones had snide remarks about other things, safety it looked like, hidden under sass.
Mentions of if someone wanted to keep their fingers for another day to not wrap wires without gloves, things that would be common sense to people with actual engineering experience, but stuff Mike probably wouldn't have even thought about before trying his hand at. They would probably be helpful at some point, though Mike really needed to crack open some books to start to learn about this stuff, it was clear he was missing the fundamentals here that would keep him from making some idiotic decision.
"Hey, excuse me but who the hell are you?" Mike jumped, spinning around, flashlight coming up for a moment before he remembered the power had cutback on as he stared into the dark eyes of an unamused looking man, a bit older than him, probably early thirties at most, though Mike knew more than most how stress could age a person, and those lines didn't seem... too natural. Next he noticed the patch marking the man as a worker here and relaxed a bit, it would be a pain if he had to deal with a robber right after his shift ended, he wasn't sure he had the energy to deal with them.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone would be here for another hour, I'm the night guard, Mike Schmidt. I was just looking around, the cameras don't do a good picture of the place sometimes" Mike's lie came easily as the man seemed to relax a tad, staring at his uniform for a moment before nodding.
"Right, sorry, just don't see many people in this corner or at this hour, I'm Fritz, I work on the animatronics occasionally when they need a tune up" There was a hint of something in the man's eyes though as he scanned over Mike that made him feel like he was being judged, if silently, as Mike quickly brushed that off, asking quickly.
"You work on them? Mind me asking just what it is you do with them given how... rowdy they can be" If some jerk was messing with the animatronics, it would make sense why they seemed so murderous if they were programmed for it, though another part of his mind perked up at the idea of being able to speak to something who actually knew what they were doing with the animatronics.
Fritz though seemed to close off at the mention of their nightly activities, a faint look of... something pulling on his face before he quickly shrugged.
"I don't do nothing to those damn things, they do that on their own, I just make sure the gears in them aren't so rusted that they don't breakdown in the middle of the day, anything more and they get... a bit snippy, free roam mode active or not" That didn't sound like something Mike wanted to poke at. He couldn't imagine just what snippy entailed when a person didn't have metal doors to use. A part of him was sure he didn't want to know either.
"Right, what's with that? I was here when I was a kid, well, another location at least, one not as crap if you don't mind the honesty, and they weren't ever so... violent" Fritz shot Mike a sharp look, before finally shrugging.
"Does it matter? Probably were always like that, I've been here for a long while, trust me they've always been like that. Just let it go and keep up the good work... It'd be nice to have a guard that lasted more than a few days" The man muttered that last part under his breath, probably thinking Michael wouldn't hear it, he did anyway as he watched with a faint hint of suspicion as the two separated away as Mike headed to leave.
Something was off here that had been obvious from the first night, but Mr. Fritz over there just confirmed something else.
How many guards died in this job? And how the hell did no one know about it? Hurricane as a city wasn't exactly... kind to this franchise, haven't been for a long time from what he's seen since he's been back. So who the hell would work here willingly?
Mike... felt something clench in the bottom of his stomach at the thought of just what had happened to his family's pride and joy. It was never supposed to be like this, his father had to be rolling in his grave, hell, they all probably were.
Maybe he should come clean, own up to his name, see if there was anything left for him, if only to try and shut this place down for good? If anything, his family's name's reputation should be enough to kill the place off if it was known he was working here.
Maybe not...
It didn't matter, it would go under soon enough, and Evan was his priority right now.
As Mike walked out, heading to the nearest bus stop, he didn't notice the sight of more than a single pair of eyes tracing his movement as he went.
Time passed, the third night was horrible, it was getting harder and harder, but he was doing fine. Phone Guy seemed... quieter, Mike remembered him finally, didn't remember his name but remembered his voice, he had been hired on soon after Juniors had opened, Mike never met the man, not really, he saw him on occasion at work meetings, the man had been a day manager to his knowledge, but that was about it, he hadn't been interested in business to much back then, being a kid and all, to pay attention.
It made him feel... different, recognizing the man on the other end of the phone, not better, not worse, just different. He had seemed nice, Mike remembered that, but the way Phone Guy talked about death, always covering it, always covering himself in case of something happening, it was like he knew exactly what was happening, and the only thing he could do was speak out to the ones who heard his voice over the calls. A warning if a poor one from a man who could stop whatever all this was.
He must have known just how many people were dying in this job right? How many people must have quit after the first few nights. How long did the guard position stay open until some idiot wandered into the spot. What was the point of this job anyways?
The questions swirled, but he couldn't do anything with them, he never could. He did want to talk to Phone Guy, though who knew where the man was, he couldn't call back through the phone, it was a one way for some reason that Mike couldn't even hope to comprehend given it should have been his job to call the police should anything happen here, and he needed a phone to do that. Perhaps after one too many guards had made 'false' reports that the company just stopped the phone from being able to call out.
It made Mike feel even more trapped than before when he realized that fact, like a life line he hadn't really considered had been cut off from him.
He finally finished cleaning out Fredbear, got to look at the suit better as well, finally with a proper flashlight in hand and with everything cleaned. It... was bad, but not as bad as he thought, now that he had basically gone through the entire suit, he knew what was where, and with the rough blueprints he had a basic idea of just what was happening and what was needed.
The suits were built to be cranked so all the metal and the endoskeleton would be pulled taut to the sides so a person could get in. It looked like a lot of those springs had simply snapped a long while ago, not allowing the endoskeleton to move into place with the few parts that were in the right spots. Basically, the spring locks all were way too rusted to have the transition between suit and animatronic function properly, and once Mike was able to pry those parts out and into place with the Endoskeleton, it was clear that while there was a few parts still missing, primarily a head for the endo, along with a number of smaller parts, the skeleton itself was mostly still there.
Just in pieces, with the springs that normally latched everything together all being broken beyond anything Mike could repair or rusted so badly that they basically snapped and broke when he had forcefully pulled the pieces into place to know what he was looking at.
He apologized a lot to Evan about that, though he had no idea just if the kid could feel it, that hardly mattered to him.
Still, he had something to work towards, while these parts were custom, as long as he could figure out how they worked, perhaps bring in some of the different types of spring locks into a metalworking store, he'd be able to have them make the parts for him, so he could just then reattach the spring locks where they had broken off... If the Endoskeleton itself still... functioned properly. The battery pack Mike found was corroded so badly he had to just throw it out, it was beyond busted, but Evan still occasionally showed up, those pinpricks of light and faint shuddering sounds, so clearly the suit didn't need electricity to power it.
A thought that frankly hurt Mike's head, but he just decided to not think about it too hard after a while. Still, the endo itself was rusted up badly as well, but at the very least, Mike did know how to clean up rust and oil joints. It was the best he could do for the time being, so that's what he was planning on while he worked on figuring out just how the hell he was going to pay for the parts he'd need.
He had looked into what the standard cost of an animatronic voice box was the day before.
The price on it nearly made him want to cry. It was more than a few weeks worth of payment, payment he needed if he wanted to make it to next week.
Things hardly were getting easier, but at least Mike had something of a plan still. He just had to keep surviving, and if he could do that for this long without caring about his life, then he should be able to handle this when he was actually trying right?
Night four gave him all the answers he needed on that.
Hey, look at that, things are in motion, characters are being introduced, and the plot is getting going, isn't that just interesting. This all is going to be fairly fast paced, or at least as fast as I can make it while making sure the right amount of stuff is here while also being a really slow paced writer by nature. Either way, I'm happy with this, so that's really all that matters to me while I'm working in the background to make sure the plot is all worked out properly in advance, which is really something I should do before I start writing anything but... meh, hasn't stopped me yet. So, See ya.