I can't believe I'm doing this, Harley thought. It was his first shift at Rocky Ratchet's Pizza. The place was known for their animatronics. Rocky Ratchet was the main star, with Zuma playing guitar. Skye was the backup singer. Marshall, or Marshy as the little pups called him, was currently out of order.

He entered the building and locked the glass double-door behind him. It was 11:40. And it was dark inside. He walked over to the office and sat down. The office had a poster saying "Celebrate!", a fan, and other things you would find in a security office. Though the metal doors on each side were a little odd. The phone started ringing.

"Hello, hello? Um, can you hear me okay? I wanted to leave you a message to assist you in getting comfortable on your initial night here. Oh, by the way, I used to be part of the team at that very office. In fact, this week is my final stretch there.".

Interesting.

"So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay? Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know.".

He didn't expect this much talk from a first night intro to his job.

"Um, "Welcome to Rocky Ratchet's Pizza. A magical place for pups and dogs alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Ratchet Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or individual. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon as property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced". Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about.".

How is that reassuring?

"Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of pups and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay. So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night.".

Why?

"Uh... Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the canine body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?".

Harley was feeling a little freaked out.

"Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll pr- they'll most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Rocky Ratchet's Pizza, they'll probably try to... forcefully stuff you inside a Rocky Ratchet suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area.".

Harley was officially freaked out.

"So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort... and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh. Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night.".

Harley's paws trembled as he set down the phone. What had he gotten himself into? This was supposed to be an easy night watchman gig, not some twisted survival game against murderous animatronics.

He glanced at the tablet on the desk, its screen flickering to life as he tapped it. The cameras cycled through different areas of the pizzeria. Everything seemed normal, the animatronics standing motionless on stage. But for how long?

The clock ticked over to midnight. Harley's shift had officially begun.

For the first hour, nothing happened. Harley found himself jumping at every little creak and groan of the old building settling. His eyes darted constantly between the tablet and the dark hallways on either side of the office.

At 1:13 AM, movement caught his eye on the camera. Rocky Ratchet had left the stage.

Harley looked through all the cameras to find him. In his panic, he noticed Zuma was missing too. As a matter of fact, Skye was as well.

Harley's heart raced as he frantically scanned through the cameras. Where had they gone? The dim, grainy footage revealed empty rooms and shadowy corridors, but no sign of the animatronics.

Suddenly, a metallic clang echoed from the left hallway. Harley's paw instinctively shot out to the door button, slamming it shut with a resounding thud. He panted heavily, ears perked for any further sounds.

The tablet screen flickered, and Harley nearly dropped it when Rocky Ratchet's face appeared in the camera feed, unnaturally close to the lens. The animatronic dog's eyes seemed to stare directly at him, its permanent grin now sinister in the low light.

A scratching noise came from the right side. Harley whipped his head around to see Zuma's silhouette in the hallway. Harley hit the door button on that side too. Harley was about to check the cameras, when he noticed a battery symbol on the screen. And it was draining fast.

He forgot about the battery usage.

He checked the hallways, then opened the doors.

Harley's paws shook as he reopened the doors, praying the animatronics had moved on. The battery indicator on the tablet showed 65% remaining. He had to be more careful.

Silence fell over the pizzeria once again, broken only by Harley's ragged breathing and the soft whir of the desk fan. He cycled through the cameras, searching for any sign of movement. Rocky was back on stage, but Zuma and Skye were still missing.

A faint giggle echoed through the building, sending chills down Harley's spine. He frantically checked the cameras, finally spotting Skye in the kitchen. The audio crackled with the sound of pots and pans clanging.

2:30 AM. Harley's eyes burned from staring at the screen, but he didn't dare look away. A flicker of movement might mean they're on their way into the office.

Harley checked the cameras and noticed that Marshall was peeking out of the curtain. He blinked and Marshall was gone, leaving the curtains wide open.

Harley's heart raced as he scanned the cameras, searching for Marshall. How was this possible? The phone guy had said Marshall was out of order. Yet there was no denying what he'd just seen.

A blur of white with black spots caught his eye on one of the hallway cameras. Marshall was sprinting towards the office at an alarming speed. Harley's paw slammed down on the left door button just as the animatronic reached it. A heavy thud and scraping of metal against metal told him he'd narrowly avoided disaster.

The battery indicator now read 45%. Harley knew he couldn't keep the doors closed for long. He took a deep breath and opened the left door, praying Marshall had retreated.

3:15 AM. The night seemed to stretch on endlessly. Harley's nerves were frayed, every sound making him flinch. He'd seen Rocky once more in the men's bathroom, but not much else from him. Skye was in the kitchen. Again. And Zuma was in the janitor's closet.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the fan on Harley's desk slowed to a stop. The battery indicator flashed red: 15%. Panic gripped him as he realized he might not have enough power to make it through the night.

He frantically checked the cameras one last time. Rocky was back on stage, staring directly at the camera. Zuma had moved to the dining area. Skye was still in the kitchen. And Marshall…

A dark chuckle came from the right hallway. Harley's paw hovered over the door button, but he hesitated. Could he risk closing it with so little power left?

The laughter grew louder, closer. Harley's breath caught in his throat as he saw a pair of glowing eyes appear in the darkness. Marshall's damaged face peeked around the corner, his jaw hanging at an unnatural angle.

With a lunge, Harley closed the door.

14%.

13%.

12%. How long was Marshall going to stay there?

11%.

10%.

9%. Harley checked through the window, and, seeing Marshall finally gone, opened the door.

8%. The power was draining fast. Harley's paws trembled as he checked the cameras once more. Rocky and Zuma were back on stage, but Skye and Marshall were nowhere to be seen. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the building.

4:45 AM. Just over an hour left. Harley could make it. He had to.

7%. A giggle echoed from the left hallway. Skye. Harley's paw hovered over the door button, ready to slam it shut at a moment's notice.

6%. The giggling stopped. Harley held his breath, straining to hear any movement.

5%. A shadow passed by the left window. Harley's paw twitched, but he resisted the urge to close the door. He couldn't waste any more power.

4%. They were coming upon him from both sides.

3%. The time was only 4:48. Harley was doomed.

2%. Silence.

1%. Nothing.

0%. The lights, electronics, and doors shut down.

Darkness engulfed the office as the power died. Harley's heart pounded in his chest, his eyes straining to adjust to the pitch black. The silence was oppressive, broken only by his ragged breathing.

A faint melody began to play. Harley's ears perked up, recognizing the tune of "Toreador March." It was coming from the left hallway, accompanied by a pair of glowing eyes. Rocky.

Harley sat frozen in his chair, unable to move as the music box tune continued. The glowing eyes blinked slowly, drawing closer with each passing second. He could make out Rocky's silhouette now, the animatronic's teeth gleaming in what little light filtered through the windows.

5:00 AM. Just one more hour. But without power, without doors, how could he possibly survive?

A scraping sound came from the right. Another pair of eyes was looking at him. Then another. And one more pair.

They were all looking at him.

5:01. They lunged at him.

5:02. They gripped him and dragged him.

5:03. They were starting to shove him into a suit.

5:04. Harley's muffled screams echoed through the empty pizzeria as the animatronics forced him deeper into the suit. He could feel the wires and crossbeams pressing against his skin, threatening to pierce through at any moment.

5:05. The pressure increased. Harley's vision blurred as tears streamed down his face. This was it. This was how he was going to die.

5:06. Suddenly, a loud chime rang out. The animatronics froze, their glowing eyes dimming. Harley held his breath, afraid to move.

5:07. One by one, the animatronics released their grip on him. They turned and began shuffling back to their positions on stage, leaving Harley half-stuffed into the suit.

5:08. With trembling paws, Harley pulled himself out. He was injured in the parts where he was shoved in.

What happened?

Harley shuffled out into the main area. All the animatronics were in their places. Marshall was in his cove, his face still broken.

Harley had barely managed to survive the night.

He realized he was bleeding badly, and shuffled toward the first aid kit. He found the bandages, and applied them on his hind legs.

6:00 am came, and the workers found Harley on a chair, his lower half in bandages, and blood on the floor. They called an ambulance right away.

After he arrived, Harley asked if he could leave his job. They said they had no one else to fill in for him, so he had to go to work when he got better.

Harley went on to say that the animatronics nearly killed him multiple times, and were about to succeed in that, and to say that they should tell future employees about the threat at night.