Chapter Text
Today is Sunday, April 4.
The sound's coming out of the security system make the perfect white noise for you. It's staticy blandness seems to help you focus as you work furiously. The beat-up laptop on your desk whirling with life, it’s screen casting a whitish glow on you and your close surroundings. Taking a quick second the check the security feed, you cycle through the cameras. Nothing looks new, at least to you. You’re surprised you can even see though, the tech’s pretty outdated. Your boss said he was going to fix it soon, but honestly you don't know if it’ll be for better or for worse...
You take a quick look at the door.
When you first started working, you would check the doorways constantly, nervous about that dummy position right outside. It didn’t help when your boss pranked you with some of the suit parts. You swear, you must have jumped like, 20 ft in the air or something. You repaid the favor by socking him in the arm, but you didn’t hold it against him. Nah, you knew he’d crossed the line a little while ago. Why get pissed now? Plus it wasn’t like it was haunted or anything...
It's all "decoration", as Rodney, your boss, told you; but it still makes you uneasy. You should have said that this was fucked up, that he should let sleeping dogs lie. That it was pretty bad to be commercializing off of actual murders. But that’s not how it went at all.
What you did say was "when do I start", because you need cash and Rodney's loaded. You mean, how else did he managed to buy this lot and get all this stupid fazbear junk.
Yet, the attraction isn't too bad once you get past the creepy aspects of it. Sure, the green lights were unnerving as hell, and you almost pissed yourself when you touched the laughing button. But after you strolled around the place, you found it kind of cool. There was all sorts of cool 80’s and 90’s junk laying around! And then the spare robot parts…
Apparently, the part of you that loved tinkering with computers and tv’s seemed to love tinkering with robots as well. It was a lot more complicated than it looked, though. You even had to look online for other parts, trying to piece together a blueprint for this crazy plan. The end result was a rather frankenstein looking mess, maybe two feet high with mismatched limbs. You thought he was a cute little bugger, but you could never get him to turn on. The tech was probably too old anyway.
It was still useful for scaring the shit out of Rodney though! You snicker at the memory of Rodney running down the hallway of terror, offline robot “chasing” after him. Man, that was so good! Even though he banned you from working on the animatronics afterwards,the reaction alone still made the prank worth it.
But that meant you lost your only form of enjoyment at this boring job. You’d play some video games if you had any, but you sold them all to pay for rent...
So now you were left to do the only other thing you could think off.
Homework...
You can feel the pure caffeine pulsing through your veins, having already downed your 5th energy drink. Your laptop, which is not a part of this shitty setup Rodney made, is furiously keeping up with the words you're typing. You have a paper due by the end of this week, i.e. next Sunday, and you really can't afford to wait on it. You're not going to get that degree by just sitting on your ass all day.
Or, well you're technically sitting on your ass right now, but it's night. That's different...
Shut up.
The point is you've been driven to get your project done early. Which either happens when you feel guilty for slacking, or when you feel bored.
"It'll get interesting," Rodney said in one of his infamous voicemails, "Dude, the moment we find a whole animatronic, this place will be the scariest attraction around!"
You would say Rodney was full of shit, but he sounded so sincere. Maybe he was just some hopeful idiot banking all his cash on this thing? Maybe he actually believed he could do this? Maybe if you weren't such a cynical piece of shit, you'd believe in it too?
Nah, you know this place will tank, with or without an animatronic.
Finishing your paper with a satisfied click, you quickly save your work. You lean back into your chair, feeling your back pop as you stretch out. A yawn escapes you despite your heart feeling like you ran in a marathon.
Well, now that you've finished anything important, you guess you work on your other current pass time.
You get up out of the chair and exit the office, grabbing your backpack from the doorway. Your eyes fall upon old posters and children's scribbles. Some of the scribbles are cute, while others are pretty creepy. Either way, they litter
the hallway like crazy, covering every possible window and such.
"What the hell were they thinking," you mutter, stopping to pick up a fallen paper and trying to stick it back on the wall. You're not really sure who "they" are. They could be the child who drew the terrifying picture, or the people who kept the pizzeria running. Hell, you could even be talking about your employers and their crazy scheme.
How about all three? Yeah, that sounds right. The picture refuses to stay on the wall, so you just crumple it and shove it in your hoodie pocket. You’ll fix it later; maybe.
You make your way down the hallway. The spare parts and tools in your backpack occasional clank together. It's music to your ears. You feel yourself smile when you come across the old arcade machine. Its box like shape and somewhat intact screen fill you with delight. Rodney said you couldn't mess with the animatronic parts, but he didn't tell you not to mess with the other junk. You've been careful not to make it look too messed with, but Tony doesn't focus much on these. You're not even sure if it's from the pizzeria, seeing as he looks at it with nothing but contempt.
You gently pull it away from the wall and pop the back panel off. Some dust puffs out, spreading around you and the floor and everywhere else and oh jeez it’s in your eyes ohgod-
"Damn Rodney, ever heard of a broom," You cough and shut your eyes. Your hand waves frantically in a vain attempt to clear the air.
Once it's safe to breathe, you pop your head back in and let the glory of machinery take you. Your hands move around the wires and tubes with ease, careful but precise. Reattaching old parts and putting in new ones, you are in your element.
You've always love working with machinery, and working with your hands. So this is probably your only relief in your stressful life. You’ve had to cut classes and take other part time jobs just to make ends meet. Granted, Rodney managed to pay enough for you to quit those other jobs, but most of your money is going to rent. You still need to manage to pay for technical college.
Suddenly, the machine blares to life. Cheesy arcade music busting out of broken speakers with such gusto that you jump up in surprise, hitting your head in the process.
“Ah, fuck!"
As you hold your head and scramble out, the music seems to quiet down. Light emits from the screen, but you have no idea what's playing. The machine's casing had been scratched off, only flecks of faded blue paint remained on its rusted husk.
You look back at the panel, noticing the power cord plugged into the wall. Weird, you normally pull the cord out to avoid electrocution. Maybe you were too careless this time. You are pretty tired…
Dusting yourself off, you make your way to the front of the machine. The title, "Five Night’s at Freddy’s" catches your eye quickly, as well as the pixelated balloons and pizzas on the screen. Guess the mystery of “what is this thing and where did it come from” is solved.
Good for you.
The words "Press any button to play" start flashing, getting your attention once again. You also notice that someone had already put in a token. Which was odd, seeing as it hadn’t been touched by anyone else but you for like, years. Ether it was a glitch or the machine broke before someone could play, you safely assume.
“Well thanks for the free play, possible random 80’s kid.” You chuckled as you pressed the start button. You grip the joystick with one hand and set the other on the two buttons. Finally, after all this time, you’re going to play this game. It’s probably going to be super bad, but who cares! You fixed the machine and-
Your lopsided smile shifts into a frown as the cheerful music slows to a crawl, and the once colorful image quickly goes black. You wait a moment, two more, before a new image pops up. It looks like some sort of grey, pixelated thing. White text lays suspended above it, moving to once playful music.
Do you wish to save us?/p>
(Press start to accept)
You squint, reading the letters again and reexamining the image. It just bobs up and down to the creepy music. You feel kind of creeped out yourself, but like hell are you going to let some wuss 80’s game mess with you. You press start again, not really noticing you're nodding as well.
Thank you!
For a second, you swear you see the grey pixel smile, but then the screen shatters. You jump back to avoid the sparks and flying glass, your eyes wide and fearful. Quickly, you rush to pull the cord out of the machine, fearful it might catch on fire. It continues to spark around for a bit, before finally settling down.
It takes you a while to calm yourself after that, and even longer to find a broom. You curse as you sweep up shards of glass from the floor, realizing you’ll have to explain this to Rodney. He’ll be pretty pissed about this, you’re sure about it. But at least the place didn’t catch on fire.
Suddenly, something moves out of the corner of your eye. You snap your head up, only to see some papers fluttering by the vent.
You stare at the vent for a second or two, feeling a chill run up your back…
Screw it, you’ll just leave a note and head back to the office. You’re getting spooked just standing here.
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It’s dark, like always. The lights haven’t been turned on for years; and width no windows, there's no sunlight…
The wall is stuck behind you, as always. It’s peeled drywall and cracked brick standing tall and firm. You’ve given up scrapping your way out, but occasionally you’ll use your fingers to scrawl little doodles. If you could see, you’ve bet they’d cover the whole room by now.
You know he’s done his fair share of scrawling too...
Seeing as you can’t hear the wind howl or the rain fall, you assume it's a quiet day. Or night.
You’ve lost track of time in here. Weeks, months, hell even years could have passed by and you’d have no idea. You remember when the clock worked, you’d count the minutes.
It’s hands haven’t moved in a long, long time
…
He hasn’t spoken up in a while, but you're thankful for that.
When you two were first stuck together, he’d tell you horrible things. He’d tell you what he’d done, and why he did it. He’d even tell you that Fredbear was scrapped, along with the other animatronics.
You’d tell him to shut up.
Part of you didn’t want to believe him, but you kind of accepted it after a while.
Fazbear’s was finished, and you’d been left as a prison for this sick freak.
If that's what life set up for you, fine, so be it. Not like you’d be out on stage anyway, you were so outdated…
You bet you looked like roadkill anyway. Probably smelled like it too...
If you were still useful doing this, then you’d make sure this creep never made it out of here. You’d been his cage, his prison.
…
Still, you missed performing. You missed the old days…
It's selfish, you know, but…
Sometimes, you wish for a second chance.