August 28th, 1993

12:00 AM

NIGHT ONE

Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, Hurricane, UT

Mike sat in a clunky office chair. The poor thing looked like it had been thrown into a junkyard and then promptly pulled out of it to come here. The springs in the chair were rusty and barely functional. His security office felt more like a glorified closet. It was barely tall enough for Mike to fit, and so narrow that he couldn't so much as stretch his arms to their full span.

And the cameras looked like they came from the 1950s! Seriously, who even uses black-and-white camera footage anymore? And there wasn't even a VCR; the cameras used giant magnetic tapes that Mike had to spend fifteen minutes messing around with before he could get the damn things to work properly! Even then, the cameras glitched out every couple of minutes and got covered in static, making them worthless during those periods of time. Also, the kitchen camera was broken and didn't even have a video feed, only audio!

Grumbling aside though, the job was pretty cushy. Mike had been more than a little wary when he saw the employment advertisement in the newspaper. He thought his… record… would have made getting the job incredibly difficult, but the manager had practically shooed him in. Sure, the pay was minimal at best, but the job was comfortable and let him use his only legal skill set; staying awake during the night!

He thought he knew why, though. As soon as he stepped foot in the small town of Hurricane, all he had ever heard from the local population was one warning:

"Don't go near Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria."

With such treatment coming from the local population, it made sense that management was desperate for someone to fill the gap in their employment force. Plus, the idea of having to stay in the same building for six hours with weird and creepy animatronics probably turned many people away.

Mike didn't have a choice, though. His record may have come from a different state altogether, but he could guarantee that it was still a part of his background information. People would probably have excused the part of the record with 'shoplifting', but they definitely wouldn't have ignored the 'aggravated assault' and 'organized robbery' charges. (The 'organized robbery' one was false… kinda.) He had no choice but to go to the shady building with the shady management and the shady reputation and ask for a job. The fact that even they didn't turn him down was a miracle.

That was what he thought.

Then the phone rang.

Mike jumped at the sudden noise. He noticed that on his dusty wooden desk was an equally dirty telephone. The phone was black and covered in what appeared to be… fur?

Mike followed the cord, but saw that the phone wasn't even connected to the wall.

How is it even ringing? Mike thought, puzzled. With no real reason against it, Mike chose to answer the phone. Pulling the large black plastic device from the stand, he put it to his ear.

"Hello? Hello, hello?"

Mike was about to reply before he realized that replying to a disconnected phone would probably do nothing at best. So, he continued listening to what he was sure must've been a prerecorded message.

"I've, uhhh, I've recorded a message on this phone. You know, to help you get settled in on your first night!"

The mystery man's voice was nervous and jittery, but it wasn't scratchy like the voices of the people over at management.

"Funny story. I, uhh, I'm actually finishing up my last week right now! Management said to record this for your, uhh, shifts, uhh, after I leave. You know, so that you can do my job too, heh!"

Mike was intrigued, but not much else. Management probably told the last guard to record a bunch of messages on the phone to 'help' him do his job right. Not that Mike really cared. Who really needs instructions on how to be a guard? It's boring and mainly consists of staring at the same screen for six hours.

"So, uhh, before I get started, uhh, Management actually gave me an introductory greeting to read to you! Basic, uhh, company greeting stuff, nothing special; just a bunch of legalese and whatnot."

Oh boy. Here comes the practiced drivel they make the cashiers memorize in company workshops.

The next few lines were so obviously practiced and monotone they almost made Mike laugh.

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, where fantasy and fun come to life. We hope you enjoy your experience working as a representative of our company, and sincerely hope to see the smile on the children's faces mirrored by a smile of your own. We take employee satisfaction very seriously, and always endeavor to provide you with the best possible employee experience. Thank you for choosing to work here."

Ahhh, good stuff, Mike thought, a smirk on his features.

"Notice: Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for any damages to personal property or self. Upon death or dismemberment of a registered employee, a missing persons' case will be filed after ninety days, OR until the restaurant premises have been thoroughly cleaned and washed with bleach and disinfectant, the animatronic characters' suits have been deep-cleaned and removed of all staining, and the Parts and Services room has been evacuated of all incriminating material which could damage the reputation of the company; whichever comes at a later point in time."

Now that made Mike's hairs stand on end. Correcting his posture, he sat upright and pushed the phone closer to his ear.

"Yeah, they don't really tell you these things when you sign up for the job, heh. Kinda like medicine side-effects in all those commercials, now that I think about it."

Mike was pretty sure that no medicine commercial had ever threatened the viewer with death or dismemberment; but what did he know? He hadn't even had to take any since his… not-so-stellar… coming-of-age party back in '86.

"Now, I know, that doesn't fill you with confidence or sound like anything good… at all, but it's not so bad! The company still loves you!… kinda. And besides, if I was forced to sing those same stupid songs for four whole years, and I never got a break except when I was sleeping, I'd probably get cranky too, heh."

Is… is he talking about the robots? But why would he?

Mike was sure that the message had to be a prank. He should've seen through it the moment he saw the cut cord. There's no way a company could stay afloat when it had a disclaimer like that.

"Now, the animatronic characters here are very special, and we love them with all our hearts! We need to show them respect, like we would our human employees, because they are the source for children's smiles everywhere!…That being said, uhh, they do tend to, how do I say this… they do tend to, get a bit, uhh, 'quirky', at night."

Now Mike was sure it was a prank call. To curb the growing dread in his mind, he switched the old camera's footage over to the Main Stage, where the animatronics were standing.

No one had moved. All three were still in their positions.

"Just to make you aware, n-not that you should be scared or anything, uhh- the animatronics do… sorta… wander around at night. From what Management said, they're left in some sorta… free-roaming mode during your night shift. Apparently, if they don't move for some time, uhh, their servos lock up. Happened once before, it-uhh-it took our engineers three days to fix. Lemme tell ya, it wasn't cheap, heh heh."

So far, so good. Mike wasn't sure what the disclaimer meant, but it was probably in case someone saw the robots move and hurt something trying to run away. But why would that necessitate the disclaimer?

"Now, the only risk this could possibly face towards you, as a uhh, as a night watchman, is that-well, the animatronics aren't really programmed to understand human behavior or-or human characteristics. In fact, they're not programmed to understand the presence of, uhh, of humans during your night shift at all! So, when they uhh, sorry, IF they see you, they probably won't recognise you as a-as a human-human being or a person."

Weird, but manageable. Not being recognised as human by furry robots wasn't exactly on Mike's bingo card, but it probably didn't matter.

"They'll probably see you as- well… as a metal endoskeleton without its suit on. Now, the magic can't be spoiled for the- uhh, for the little kids, you know? So, if they see a metal endo-endoskeleton just sorta, walking around… their directive is to take it to Parts and Services, and, uhh, and put a costume on it. You know, so that kids don't see a creepy-a creepy metal robot walking around in a children's restaurant. …would probably result in a lotta lawsuits…"

So the furry robots would shove him into an animal cosplay if they saw him? Embarrassing. Mike would have to keep a reminder not to record anything that would happen in Parts and Services.

"Now, on its own, that-that wouldn't be so bad, you know? Just a smelly old- suit. However, these suits aren't for- well, they aren't for HUMANS to wear, but for uhh, but for robots. With that in mind… uhh… they have a lot of crossbeams, and wires, and-all the stuff a robot would need to move. All of them are designed for thin metal endos, not for meat sacks like you and me. So… if you get shoved in one, it could cause a bit of discomfort… and- and uhh, death. …Probably a bit more worried about the death part."

Wait. What?

Mike quickly shoved his hand onto the camera controls and reset the footage.

…

…

The bunny was gone.

In a wild panic, Mike used the wonky control pad to switch cams, until he found the creepy rabbit in the Dining Area. Its face was aimed towards the left of the screen. From the perspective of the came, left would be…

The bathrooms.

Mike breathed a sigh of relief. The killer robots wouldn't be running towards him… for now.

"The only parts of your body that would ever see the light of day again would probably be your eyes and teeth when they, uhh, pop, just go PLOP, uhh, out of the front of the mask.

But, uhhh, worry not!"

Mike perked up. Please tell him they had stored guns, or back exits, or ANYTHING to get out of this hellhole.

"I managed to uhh-to convince Management that night guards would prob-probably be better at their jobs ALIVE… heh. On that note… there's a reason that the office you're in is so cramped. Go ahead and push the red buttons next to each door frame."

Without hesitating, Mike whacked the red button on the left door. There was a short pause. One second. Two seconds.

…nothing happened? Mike thought.

On that cue, a massive steel slab slammed with a metallic BANG onto the floor, cracking a stained tile and making Mike jump back in fright.

His mind was a whirlwind of chaotic emotions. After a minute or two, Mike managed to compose himself enough to form coherent thoughts. He realized that he had dropped the phone. Picking it up, he put it again to his ear, but it was evident that he had missed a few words.

"-make sure to check those blind spots with the lights when you can. I'll, uhh… I'll catch you on the flip side… I hope."

What was that about blind spots? Mike thought, panicking. Refreshing his cameras again, Mike saw that the creepy rabbit had moved. Quickly scrolling through camera footage, he caught the thing in… a supply closet? … Why?

Switching footage back to the Main Stage, Mike noticed that the chicken was also gone. Thankfully, Mike was able to catch the faint noise of clanging pots and pans. Sure enough, when he switched to the kitchen camera, he could clearly hear the chicken's attempts at making edible food.

Five hours later…

Mike had already been forced to fend off the rabbit two times. While he wasn't sure why the robot didn't attempt to attack the office from the windows, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The noise of crashing utensils echoed from the kitchen. The chicken, interestingly enough, had made no attempt to engage in the attack with the other animatronic.

Mike grinned at the sound, but only for a moment. A noise rang throughout the halls, its strident note silencing the kitchen audio. At first, he thought it was some sort of trick by the robot animals to catch him off-guard and make him leave the safety of his office.

Then he realized that the time on the old clock behind his head was 6:00 AM. His shift- his nightmare… was over.

He remembered the weird man who had been standing outside the building when Mike had come in for his shift. His parting words still echoed in Mike's head.

"You'll change your mind after today. When you do, come see me."

With a start, Mike realized that the scrap of paper which the stranger had given him was still clasped in his left hand.

Mike quickly unfolded the crumpled paper.

Belle Arendt Opera Performance,

1:00 PM to 4:00 PM,

Neptune Auditorium, Hurricane, Utah

It was a ticket to… an opera concert? The stranger had some odd taste, but Mike was going to take any lead he could get. Besides, he had a funny feeling that he wasn't going to last very long without that man's help.

He had survived his first night… and if he had anything to say about it, it would hopefully be his last.