Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Westbrooke Street was brimming with life as usual, the houses lined up on the left one after the other. Each resembled the other, medium-sized, white trims, the gardens well kept together, making none of them feel individual despite the different colours. The right side of the street was different, for the past few decades Houses too expensive to be afforded had been knocked down in exchange for shops, it had become more of a leisure street.

A cyclist rode on the pavement, switching sides of the street and narrowly avoiding being run into by a jeep scrambler with fading yellow paint. People walked through the street, absorbed in their phones or in conversations, some rushing - Late for their jobs - Outside a house painted pink, and much to the dismay of the house owner, a small crowd of people had gathered to watch a mime, throwing change into the hat next to them. Even further along the street, the vendor of a donut van sells sugar donuts, to young children, right outside an ice cream parlour with bright signs trying - And failing - to attract attention, next to it a dimly lit alley wall which cuts through to the local Pizza place.

At the end of the street, a medium-sized house painted blue with a less than well-kept together garden housed two figures. Inside the small kitchen, a blonde-haired teen sat on one of the stools eating cereal. In the connecting living room, his mother Claire rushed through it, picking up her earrings from the table, as she hurriedly speed walked into the kitchen to get her shoes. “Ten minutes until you’re late.” The teen teased, through the very brief interval of shovelling cereal into his mouth.

“My ballet instructor won’t mind.” Claire responded, grabbing a hair pin and slotting it into her hair. “At least I get out of the house, Michael.” She added, the name said with joking disdain. “I get out the house.” He half mumbled. “No you don’t.” Claire replied. “No I don’t.” He repeated, not upholding his lie. After slotting her shoes on, she rushed to the door and picked up her car keys from inside the potted plant next to the exit.

“At least get a job, even if it’s part time. I’ll be here less due to my classes.” Claire said, softly. “C’mon, you haven’t had one since that,” She paused. “Graveyard job.” The words rolled off her tongue with disgust. Which was weird, considering from Mike’s memory nothing happened. “Or, better yet, get friends.” She added, lightheartedly. “Isn’t a hobby enough?” Mike mumbled, Claire didn’t hear it. “Bye Mike, love you.” Claire said, shutting the door and locking it behind her due to Mike’s terrible habit to forget to lock doors.

After finishing his cereal, he leaves the bowl on the counter - It having slipped his mind to place it in the sink to wash later - and walks up the spiral staircase to the hall upstairs. He pushes open the wooden door to the small library. Although Mike hadn’t used it as a library for the past 8 years, the floor was littered with taken apart devices. Gears, motors, circuit boards, levers, wires, screws, a half-taken apart microwave connected to an Iphone by a mass of wires which allowed Mike to remotely control the microwave with the Iphone.

Mike walked over to his laptop, picking up the wrench as he took it apart with expert precision, slowly he extracted its speakers, circuit board, fan and other parts. He begun using the pieces to work on a lavender coloured small robotic rabbit he’d been given by a family friend in childhood, he ripped off its eye and some connecting wires, replacing the wires with wires from the laptop and placing the eye back in the mechanical rabbit, it sparked to life and turned blue. 

Suddenly, he recalled the bowl he’d left on the counter and jumped up. Knowing his mum wouldn’t be very happy with him for giving her dishes when she got back from her ballet classes. He walked out, leaving the rabbit behind, as he walked down the spiral staircase and through the living room towards the kitchen. As he walked into the living room, the TV commercials had just started. “Then come on down to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!” A voice introduced, as the camera panned to a large sand coloured brick building, with an overlooming large red overhang above the entrance and neon signs of the three main animatronics Freddy, Bonnie and Chica.

The camera then cut to the interior, following a suited man who was walking through the dining hall. “Come and enjoy a bite in the dining hall, while watching our state of the art animatronic performers, refurbished from one of the first Fazbear Entertainment properties to bring joy to a new generation of children.” He explained, walking into the small arcade. “Or play on one of our many arcade machines, such as Chica’s feeding frenzy, Fredbear's Nom Nom Bits, Nedd Bear: The Space Soldier and many more.” He listed, the aforementioned games behind him.

“So if you want a fun time, come on down to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza in Emilville, Utah, the founding place of Fazbear Entertainment. It’s already been open for THREE weeks.” He stated, the ‘three’ clearly edited in. The commercial faded to a black screen, white text appeared, reading ‘Night guard needed. No qualifications.’ before moving onto the next commercial about ‘Murray Co’s Robotic Vacuum’ with a price too expensive for most people to afford.

Mike stared at the TV for a few seconds, thinking it over. “Well, I guess it’s a pretty easy job?” Mike mumbled to himself. “And I’d probably get free pizza!” He reasoned and, in a spur of the moment decision, headed for the door. He grabbed his badge and clipped it to his shirt, the pink-white-purple-black and blue of the badge offering a sharp contrast between his red shirt. He then grabbed his lime green hat from the table and unlocked the door, smelling fresh donuts as he shut the door and walked through the bustling street and towards the Pizza place.

Mike walked up to the entrance of the pizza place, staring up at the neon signs of the main animatronics as he walked through the doors of the pizza place and into the entrance. Surprisingly, nobody stopped him. He walked further into the main dining room, looking to the stage which presented the main three animatronics. The floor was messy, with spilled drinks and pizza all over, but a robotic vacuum with a sticker of Freddy at the top seemed to be cleaning it.

“The pizzeria is closed. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” A voice behind Mike said, causing Mike to flinch back in surprise, letting out a ‘Eek!’ sound. “Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed, staring at the pink haired individual with a black and white striped shirt and a tie who had seemingly appeared behind him. “Your.. uh.. Forehead. Is bleeding.” Mike pointed out, noticing the blood dripping from their hair.

“It happens.” They responded, unconcerned. “Again, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” They reiterated, causing Mike to remember the reason he was here. “Oh right, sorry, I’m here for the Night Guard position.” Mike explained, flailing his hands around awkwardly. “Oh. Right. Come along, I’ll bring you to the interview room.” They responded, walking past Mike and not looking behind as Mike followed back. “What’s.. Your name?” Mike asked, trying to do small talk despite being horrifically bad at it.

“Jamie.” Jamie - Finally named - introduced, lining things out on his checklist as they walked through the tables in the room, Mike following. “I’m Mike. Mike Schimdt, if you- If you need the full name” Mike responded, despite not being asked for his name. “Cool.” Jamie acknowledged, sketching something on their checklist ideally. “That’s, uh, Freddy, Chica and Bonnie.” Jamie pointed out on the stage, Mike paused to look at them. “Freddy and Bonnie were the original two in the forms of Fredbear and Spring Bonnie, they used to be yellow.” Jamie explained, taking out a tissue and cleaning their forehead as they waited for Mike to continue following. “Foxy is off in his own section, Pirates Cove, over there.” Jamie pointed with their pen, continuing to move into a smaller party room with a small, empty, stage and some boxes. “Why?” Mike asked.

“Foxy wasn’t made by the owner, he, uh, combined businesses with his friend who owned Foxy and the friend wanted Foxy to be independent. In fact, the corporation went through a lot of issues to get that specific model because he was, uh, tied up at some other place, Party world, or something.” Jamie mentioned, as Mike followed from behind. “You sure know a lot, you work here?” Mike asked. “No, I’m the secretary for someone from corporate, she’ll be interviewing you. The manager’s too, how do you say, lenient. With his hires, so they sent my boss instead.” They explained, pausing at the door. “Enter.” They ordered, reaching over and whipping off Mike’s hat. “That doesn’t suit you.” They observed, which Mike didn’t deny. “I like your pin. Nonbinary, right?” Mike pointed out, having noticed it on Jamie. Jamie nodded. “And you. Gender fluid.” Jamie pointed back, Mike nodded.

Mike walked through the doorway into a large room with a single chair and table in front of him, the rest of them pushed to the walls of the room. On the other side of the table, a girl with long brown hair in a black vest with a tie and white shirt looked up from her book. She reached onto her head and took off her reading glasses. “Name?” She asked, reaching over to another folder, with the arm movement, Mike noticed a name tag reading ‘Calliope A.’

“Uh, Mike Schmidt.” Mike responded, sitting in the chair opposite her. “But you won’t find anything about me in ther-” Mike begun, before being interrupted. “Found you.” Calliope responded, her voice cutting through his like a knife to butter. “Given that you quit your last job without a 2 weeks notice, your options are gonna be extremely limited.” Calliope stated, harshly. “It was a night guard job, though.” Mike pointed out, meekly.

“That it was.” Calliope half mumbled, flipping through the folder. “What’s the ‘A’ in your name stand for?” Mike blurted out. Calliope looked up, peering at him with green eyes. “It stands for-”

Mike walked out the building excitedly, mentally celebrating in his head. “I got the job!” He exclaimed, to nobody in particular, as he began walking home. “I’m pretty sure their paying me less than minimum wage, but I guess I don’t need money that desperately.” Mike reasoned, his mum was pretty wealthy - She came from “old money” or something - and got checks or something every month. He wasn’t sure of the details.

As Mike walked back home, the sun setting, he decided to take a detour through a dimly lit alleyway. It would cut down the fifteen minute walk to three minutes, he navigated through the alleyway, stepping over the bags of trash and avoiding the puddles of some sort of “mystery liquid”.

Almost nearing the other side of the alleyway that would lead to his house, he noticed a familiar name on the missing poster. “Brownen Light.” He read, outloud, recognising her as one of his mum’s friends, some sort of journalist, she’d shown up to their house a few days ago rambling about “something big” before his mum sent him up to his room, and he couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation. He felt a tinge of guilt, like her going missing was somehow his fault, as he made his way home.

Mike reached the door of his house and reached into his pocket to get his keys, slotting them into the keyhole before remembering he didn’t lock the door. “Ah, stupid.” He mentally told himself off, taking his keys out and pushing open the door then closing it behind him. He looked into the living room to see his mum staring at him. “Mike!” She exclaimed, her voice angry but with obvious hints of relief. “I tried your phone four times!” Claire put up four of her fingers to show it.

“Where were you?!” She asked, angrily. “Oh, uh, sorry- Mum.” Mike apologised, stuttering. Her expression softened. “It’s- It’s fine.” Claire responded, not having the heart to stay angry. “I was at an interview. For a job.” Mike explained, reaching to take his hat off before realising he left it with Jamie. Claire’s eyes widened in surprise, having not expected Mike to actually take her advice earlier. “Really? What is it?” Claire asked. “A Night Guard job,” Claire’s expression stiffened slightly. “At Freddy’s Pizza.” Claire’s eyes filled with urgency. “You WHAT?” Claire’s voice sounded disturbed, practically shouting the last word. “Why there?” She asked, nervously, almost frantic, unnerving Mike. “Uh, it was… On the TV.” Mike responded, avoiding direct eye contact.

“And after that?” Claire asked. “Va-Vacuums?” Mike quietly responded. “And before that?” She asked, like she was a police officer investigating a suspect. “I- I don’t know. I’d just came downstairs!” Mike responded, stepping back slightly. Claire paused, realising her behaviour was - For lack of a better word - Insane. “Sorry.” She apologised. “Just, uh, concerned they’ll be break ins. Those animatronics are valuable.” She lied, it was unconvincing. “It’s- It’s fine mum.” Mike responded. “I’ve still got a few hours before I have to go for my first shift so, wanna do something together?” Mike asked, Sunday nights were always their activity night. “Sure, sure.” Claire nodded. “Good! I’ll go find a board game.” Mike said, enthusiastically, running up the spiral staircase.

“You were meant to keep him safe.” Claire mumbled to herself, angrily. “Those animatronics are dangerous, last time he…” She trailed off. “He’ll be fine, Claire, he’s strong. He’s smart. Anyone who could hurt him is long gone.” She reassured. “I’ll just have to make a few calls.” Claire said, reaching over to her phone.

Chapter Text

Mike reached over to his bedside desk, grabbing the plastic gold security badge and clipping it onto his purple shirt. They’d delivered it to him through the post around an hour after he’d left - He didn’t remember giving them his address? But maybe he did and it had just slipped his mind - He looked in the mirror at himself, his hair looked half decent, his buttoned up shirt and trousers were actually ironed and makeup hid most of the insecurities of his face.

He adjusted his tie slightly, patting down his collar and made his way down the staircase where his mother was waiting for him. “Okay, be careful, stay safe and don’t get hurt.” Claire listed, holding Mike by the shoulders, she reached over to the dining room table and grabbed a switchblade and placed it in Mike’s pocket. “Uh, isn’t that… illegal?” Mike asked, usually his mother said to follow the laws like… any normal parent. “If you get caught with it, call me.” Claire advised, knowing how corrupt cops tended to be. “Are you supporting me committing crimes?” Mike asked, bluntly. “Come on, get going. Can’t be late on your first day.” Claire said, dodging the question. “Right right.” Mike mumbled back, picking up his handbag and putting it over his shoulder as he walked out the door and towards the pizza place.

Mike rushed towards the doors as Jamie - From earlier - placed a key in the keyhole. “Uh, excuse me.” Mike half shouted, running up to them and taking a moment to catch his breath. “Oh. Sorry. I forgot about you.” Jamie apologised, deadpan, taking the key out the hole. “For, uh, safety reasons. I’ll give you the keys in… Let’s say… a week.” Jamie decided, opening the door for Mike. “Assuming you’re good at remembering to lock the doors.” Jamie said. “Oh, buddy. I’m. The BEST at locking doors. I’ve never forgot.” Mike responded, embellishing the truth and being very extra in the way he said it. 

“There’s a to-do list in your office. Try your best not to wander outside the office. Or you’ll die.” Jamie informed. “That’s a joke. It’s, uh, funny. Haha.” They added, their voice completely deadpan as they ‘laughed’. "Are you gonna go in soon.” They added, but it was less a question more an order.

“There should be recordings for you. From the previous Night Guard.” Jamie explained, their voice flat as Mike stepped in, Jamie shut the door and locked it from behind them. Mike was now officially locked in from 12am to 6am for what would probably be the most boring job in the world, but at least he got outside the house and into… a locked building. More a downgrade than an upgrade. Outside, Jamie’s voice rang in their pocket, they took it out and recognised the number, answering. “Hello Mrs. Sc—” Mike walked into the main party room, taking in his surroundings which looked very different at night, more sinister.

Mike walked through the Pizzeria towards the office, he somehow pictured the layout in his head, like it was being beamed in, and walked through the hallway past the small party rooms into the office. It was small, the wall had a checkered pattern like the rest of the Pizza place and its desk had items cluttered all over, crumpled up pieces of paper, a black landline phone with a sticker of a white Freddy with pink cheeks plastered on the zero, one, eight and three keys. Mike laid his handbag on the table and took out his phone.

As he sat in the spinny chair, the phone rang, with the green light on it lighting up. “Uh, hello? Hello hello?” The voice from the phone begun, somewhat nonchalantly. “I wanted to record a message for you, to help you get settled in for your first night.” It explained. “Uh, hold on, let me find my cards.” The voice said, trailing off as the sounds of shuffling and desks opening came. By now Mike had realised it was a prerecorded message.

“Here they are, ahem, hello! And welcome to your new job as a Security Guard for,” The voice faltered. “...Insert location name here? Oh! Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” The voice corrected. “Your job, as a Security Guard, will be to keep the building secure, haha, obviously. But you do have other duties.” The voice read. “I’ll just wing it from here, corporate won’t kill me.” The voice decided. As Mike noticed the to-do list on the desk and picked it up, reading his chores.

“Uh, here at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, despite the insane popularity, is quite short staffed. I’m the manager of this establishment, and the maintenance guy, janitor, waiter, cook, night guard.” It listed, seemingly never ending. “So I’m glad you’ve decided to take this job, hopefully because I cannot handle another week here.” The voice complained. “By now you’ve probably noticed your to-do list, I’ll place one in there for you every night. Aren’t you glad?” The voice joked, dryly.

“If you’d look up, I suggest you make your way around using the ventilation.” The voice pointed out, Mike looked up to the near top of the office where a vent - Big enough for a human to crawl through with space left over - was. “I say that because the animatronics may get a bit lively, outside of showtime mode they don’t really know what to do with themselves, so it’s best to use the vents to do your job then get out, but don’t take too many wrong turns or our,” The voice faltered. “Security system may have some issues. And trust me, that thing; The master operation, logistics and tech node? Or something. I know I’m missing a word there but whatever, it doesn’t mess around. If it finds you it’ll…” It paused. “Let’s not get into that.” The voice didn’t continue. Mike didn’t heed the warning.

“Anyways, there’s two doors to your left and right, along with a camera tablet in the desk. Pretty advanced, it’s connected to the node so you can set it to inform you when there’s movement in the room and other stuff, but it takes up power and you’re on limited power. The doors being closed take up the power too, and locking the vents does too. So keep that in mind.” The voice explained, as Mike opened one of the drawers of the desk and found a tablet, he took it out and inspected it.

It was a small sized silver tablet, with a bear ear with an orange fill on each top corner. There was a small orange glowing circular shaped screen in the top right corner which said ‘100%’, presumably the power, the larger screen taking up the entire remaining tablet space and displaying the Pizzeria floor plan, each room had a button and Mike pressing them changed the screen to the camera. The bottom of the tablet had a red bowtie at the bottom. Mike messed around with the buttons as the voice kept speaking. 

“Uh, anything else?” The voice asked themselves. “Nope, that should be it. Though between you and me, you should probably hand in your two week notice right now. You probably won't wanna keep this job for long.” The voice explained, the sounds of a child crying in the background. “Shit, sorry, I've gotta go. Child slipped and I'm the only one on the day shift who's done a first aid course, bye. And, uh, stay safe.” The voice finished, the phone beeping before the green light turned off.

Mike climbed up onto the surprisingly sturdy table, standing up right and inspecting the large vent as he pulled it open. It was warm. Which unnerved him slightly, but he carried on, peering inside. “dId i MenTioN.” The voice started again, alarming Mike as he fell onto the floor head first. “Ow..” He half mumbled. “The- The The-” The voice stuttered, it sounded off, constantly fluxing in tone. “sEcurity TabLET. Has a map of the ventilationononon… For you to follow to make sure you don’t get lost!” The voice finished, cutting off abruptly. 

Mike grabbed the to-do list again, reading it outloud this time. “Okay, if I rush I should be able to get all this done by… 1am? Yeah.” He looked at the security tablet which displayed the time in the corner - ‘12:04am’ - He looked up at the vent, deciding not to use it. There weren't really any risks to just walking around the building, and he didn’t really wanna get caught by that security node or whatever, or navigating the vents. Mike took a deep breath, ready.

12:07am - A broken light bulb in the girls bathroom. Mike rushed in with his eyes down as he tried to fix the light bulb without looking up, before remembering that there was nobody in the girls bathroom. “Oh. Right.” Mike said, outloud, reaching up as he unscrewed the light bulb and put the new one in.

12:10am - An arcade machine - Neddbear: The Space Soldier - was stuck on the home screen, putting his mechanic skills to use, Mike unplugged it, then plugged it back in. It began working.

12:24am - The fourth party room covered in pizza and cake, Mike sighed, taking out the mop from the janitor's closet.

12:43am - A child had lost their teddy in Pirates Cove’s small maze (with only two dead ends).

12:52am - Lost and found box… lost? What was he even meant to do about this one?!

1:02am - The storage room's camera didn’t work. The door was locked. Mike gave up.

1:17am - The employee break room’s coffee machine didn’t work.

1:39am - Stage curtains vandalised.

1:48am - Dishes unwashed.

Mike collapsed down on the spinny chair in the security office, breathing heavily. He looked at the time - ‘2:00am’ - then at the list, he still had six things left to do. “I’m hungry.” Mike decided, waking out of his office and to the kitchen to find food that hadn’t been on the floor for hours. He looked through the cupboards, before he found a pizza and placed it in the oven, turning the dial as it burst to life and begun cooking the pizza.

As he turned around, he met face to face with the star of the show, Freddy Fazbear. He flinched back slightly, staring at the animatronic performer. Mike had never been this close up, he went forward a step, taking in the brown fur, bowtie with fading black paint, even his nose seemed scarily real up close. Whoever refurbished the animatronics must’ve done a good job.

However, Mike realised the animatronics eyes. They were pitch black, with a single white bright dot in the middle. Silver. “Well that’s not… right.” Mike mumbled, suddenly, Freddy’s hand swung up and almost hit him if he hadn’t managed to jump back in time. “Jesus fucking-” Mike said, almost collapsing into the oven. Freddy walked forward again, his hand slicing through the air and an inch away from Mike’s face. “Fuck fuck fuck-” Mike mumbled, in a lightning fast motion - Like Mike’s body was on auto pilot - he sprinted past Freddy and grabbed his top hat, ripping it off him.

Mike held the top hat in his hands as Freddy turned around. “Come and get it.” Mike teased, throwing the top hat to the other side of the room. Freddy didn’t follow the top hat and instead headed straight towards Mike, each step echoing on the floor. “Yeah, I don’t know why I thought that would work.” Mike said to himself, rushing out the kitchen and through the Pizzeria as Freddy trailed him from behind.

Mike rushed through the pizza place towards his office, Freddy walking after him surprisingly fast for a huge bulky animatronic. Mike jumped into the office and pressed the button on the side, a large metal door came sliding down and locked the door. Mike breathed a sigh of relief as Freddy peered at him through the window, its eyes empty. “I- I need to get out of here. I need to-” Mike’s rambling was cut short by the voice of the phone guy. 

“Uh hello? Hello hello?” The voice begun, like it did the first call. “I, uh, forgot to add.” The voice continued, sounding slightly off, even the mannerisms of how it was said seemed off, maybe the guy was just having a bad day when he recorded this message. “If you don’t complete your tasks I’ll have to fire you and, uh, well it would be pretty hard to find a job if you didn’t last a week on either of your jobs. And you’d condemn another poor soul to this, uh, job.” They explained, it sounded almost like a threat, and less like the kind-hearted voice from the first call. “Stay safe.” The voice added, another repeat from the original phone call, like it was frankensteined together from the first call.

Mike weighed his options, mumbling to himself. “On one hand, I could die.” He said, beginning to pace around. “On the other hand, I could get fired and then my mum would complain.” Mike paused, then sighed, as he reached for the tablet and picked it up, pressing a button on the side that changed the screen to a map of the vents, he then looked at his to-do list, changing the light bulb in the mens bathroom. “Why wasn’t that at the beginning of the list?!” Mike questioned, as he climbed up onto the desk and into the vents.

Mike navigated his way through the eerily large vents, placing his stomach flat on the floor and using his arms to pull himself forward. As he looked down to the tablet, an exclamation mark appeared on the screen, along with a box containing a ‘fun fact’. Mike read it outloud. “Fun fact, did you know a dead… body was once found in these vents.” Mike read, his voice cracked. “Okay, ignoring that.” Mike decided, pretending like he didn’t read it as he continued crawling.

He pushed open the vent and climbed through it into the males bathroom, trying to make as little sound as possible as he unscrewed the lightbulb. However, his hand slipped and it tumbled down, shattering. “Uh oh, uh oh.” Mike said, hastily taking the other lightbulb out his pocket and going on his tiptoes to screw it in as quickly as he could as he heard the sound of mechanical footsteps.

Freddy walked through the door, unwavering as he stepped forward, his eyes still silver. Once Mike screwed it in, he jumped down and back into the vent, Freddy’s arm shot through the vent grabbing onto Mike’s foot and pulling him back, as quickly as he could, he untied the laces as Freddy pulled the shoe off as Mike crawled away.

After crawling back to the office, he slammed the buttons for both doors, separating him and the killer animatronic with a solid metal door. “Okay, okay. I’m officially terrified.” Mike said, reaching over to his bag and looking through it for anything. “Has someone… went through this?” Mike asked, realising everything was in a different place. ‘Maybe it just got moved around when I was walking here’ He thought, placing it back down.

“Okay, only…” Mike looked at the time on the tablet. 2:08am. “FOUR more hours?!” Mike exclaimed. “Who cares about getting a job, I’m getting out of here.” Mike decided, climbing into the vent once more and beginning to make his way to the closest vent to the entrance, right above the stage, from there he just had to run straight towards the door. He looked through the vent at Freddy, the animatronic wandered around aimlessly, holding Mike’s shoe. In an instant, Mike dropped down onto the stage, causing Freddy to turn to him.

Mike locked eyes with the animatronic, realising it no longer had silver eyes. He ignored it, rushing towards the exit, he made it to the door - Not looking behind him - and tried to push it open. Remembering earlier that Jamie locked it. “Oh, right.” Mike said, turning around to Freddy, who was a few steps from him, there seemed to be no way out. Mike frantically searched through his bag, taking out a torch he didn’t remember packing.

He put the torch up and pointed it at Freddy, flipping the switch on the side as it activated and blinded him. He closed his eyes, ready for whatever came after.

Chapter Text

Mike locked eyes with the animatronic, realising it no longer had silver eyes. He ignored it, rushing towards the exit, he made it to the door - Not looking behind him - and tried to push it open. Remembering earlier that Jamie locked it. “Oh, right.” Mike said, turning around to Freddy, who was a few steps from him, there seemed to be no way out. Mike frantically searched through his bag, taking out a torch he didn’t remember packing.

He put the torch up and pointed it at Freddy, flipping the switch on the side as it activated and blinded him. He closed his eyes, ready for whatever came after.

…

“Ow, dude, my eyes. Can you turn that off?” Freddy asked, causing Mike to look up confused. “What the…” Mike stared as the animatronic reached up his hands to block the light from his eyes. “That’s WAY too bright.” Freddy said, adding emphasis on the ‘way’. “Uh, s-sorry?” Mike mumbled, embarrassed, turning off the flashlight. His mind was still racing.

“I wanted to give you your shoe back.” Freddy said, raising Mike’s shoe up and plopping it into his hands. “Sorry, I’m a little confused, didn’t you just try attack me?” Mike asked, absolutely certain that less than 10 minutes ago Freddy tried to attack him. “Why are you lying?” Freddy asked. “WHAT? I- I just-” Mike gestured wildly with his hands, trying to get his point across. “You just did it!” Mike pointed out.

“Sure.” Freddy responded, walking off. “Where are you going?” Mike asked, following from behind as he hopped while putting his shoe back on. “To the kitchen, I’m hungry.” Freddy stated, pushing open the door to the kitchen and entering. “Ooh, pizza.” Freddy exclaimed, reaching into the oven and taking out the cooked pizza Mike had placed inside earlier. Freddy took one of the pieces and bit into it.

“Can robots eat?” Mike asked, meekly. “Probably.” Freddy half shrugged. “Okay, uh,” Mike paused, uncertain. “I’m gonna go and… do my job. I guess.” Mike decided, looking back at the tablet, and realising he had to crawl through the vents back to the locked office. “Can I help?” Freddy asked, taking another bite of the pizza.

Mike thought about it for a second, on one hand, this animatronic had almost killed him and was now claiming he didn’t do it. On the other hand, his mum did say about getting friends. “Are you gonna eat me half way through helping me out?” Mike asked, it was better safe than.. Digested? If animatronics had digestive systems. “I wouldn’t eat you.” Freddy reassured. “Okay fineee.” Mike nodded, half uncertain. “Just give me a minute to get into the office through the vents.” Mike said, pointing towards the vents. “Oh I’ll open the doors for you.” Freddy responded, gesturing him to follow as he grabbed the whole pizza in one hand.

Mike followed and watched as Freddy walked up to the thick metal security door and slammed his hand straight through it, tearing a arm shaped hole into it then pressing the button on the inside of the office which caused the door to open. “I- What-” Mike stuttered, his head frantically turning from Freddy to the door. “WHAT’S THE POINT OF THE DOORS THEN?!” He exclaimed, walking inside as Freddy followed.

Mike picked up the to-do list from the table, reading his 6 final tasks. “Fix the light bulb in party room 3.” Mike read. “Who is breaking all these light bulbs?” Mike mumbled, aggressively opening the desk and taking out another spare light bulb as he walked to the party room with Freddy behind him. As he walked into this small party room, Freddy paused from behind.

“Freddy, you okay?” Mike asked, looking behind him. Freddy’s expression was almost empty, his eyes hollow. He blinked a few times, before his eyes turned back to normal. “Huh? Yeah. I’m not sure what that was.” Freddy said, shrugging slightly. “Here I’ll fix the light bulb for you.” Freddy offered, taking it from Mike’s hand and reaching up, he grabbed the light bulb already in and crushed it in his hands, then ripped it out. “Ooh.” Mike said, pained, he would definitely be told off for the damage.

Freddy placed the new light bulb in, screwing it a few times and ignoring the wires that didn’t connect. “That’s definitely a safety hazard, but then again so are you so I guess they won’t mind.” Mike decided, shrugging. “What’s on the list next?” Freddy asked, turning to Mike. “Uh. It’s,” Mike paused, looking down at the list. “Organise the shelves in Parts & Service.” Mike read, as Freddy swallowed the rest of the pizza in one single mouthful.

“I was… gonna ask for some of that.” Mike reacted, weakly. “Well I can..” Freddy opened his mouth up, then dislocated his jaw and reached in. “No! No! Nevermind! I’m okay, I’m good.” Mike insisted, seeing that may put him off his appetite. “Sure?” Freddy asked. “I’m sure. Very sure.” Mike nodded, as Freddy reattached his jaw with a crunch. “You could fit a small child in that jaw.” Mike observed, morbidly.

Mike placed the spare Bonnie head on the table. It was different from the current Bonnie model, instead shining a bright blue, eyelashes and rosy red cheeks, appearing to resemble a new toy more than the Bonnie on stage. “Hey Freddy.” Mike said, gesturing him over. “Do you know anything about this?” Mike asked, turning around the Bonnie head to reveal an engraved word ‘A. Robotics’. “Uhhh.” Freddy’s eyes skimmed over it, thinking for a few seconds.

“I think they're like a department in Fazbear Entertainment or something.” Freddy guessed, moving on. Mike stared at the name for a few more seconds. “I feel like they… remind me of something.” Mike said, to himself, since Freddy had walked off to eat. “Like something I shouldn’t know about.” He continued, feeling the engraved letters. “It’s probably nothing.” Mike decided, dropping it back on the table as he walked off.

Mike looked at the tablet, it was about to hit 6am. “Parts and service took a while. We didn’t get the other things finish but it’s probably fine?” Mike reasoned, it was kinda unrealistic to expect him to finish all these things in 6 hours. “Okay bye Freddy.” Mike said, walking towards the exit.

“What?! You can’t leave yet.” Freddy insisted, turning away from the frozen pizza he was eating. “I have too, it’s 6am! And I’m only here from 12 to 6.” Mike responded, a little scared Freddy would attack him for needing to leave. “But you avoided me for like 2 hours.” Freddy recalled, sadly. “You weren’t online for 2 hours?? Then you tried to kill me.” Mike reminded. “No I didn’t.” Freddy insisted. “Look,” Mike begun. “Tomorrow, if you don’t try to kill me. We can hang out for 6 whole hours.” Mike explained, much to Freddy’s delight.

“Oh okay! Bye night guard!” Freddy said, cheerfully. “It’s- My names Mike.” Mike corrected. “Night guard.” Freddy responded. “Mike.” “Night guard.” “MIKE.” Mike repeated, trying to make it as clear as possible. “Night guard.” Freddy repeated. “Okay, okay.” Mike decided to leave it at that, and walked to the exit just in time for an unfamiliar face to unlock it and open the doors.

“Oh, hi, my names M-” Mike begun, the unfamiliar face interrupting him with a grunt of acknowledgement, obviously not listening. “Okay asshole.” Mike mumbled, but nobody except himself heard it as he walked out and back to his house.

Mike crossed the road to the path towards his house, seeing it in the distance. As he did, he noticed somebody at the door, talking with his mother. The figure handed his mother something that he couldn’t make out, before walking off and towards Mike. As Mike’s eyes squinted, he recognised the figure.

“Oh. Hello.” Jamie - The figure - said, to Mike, staring at him with eyes of unclear emotion as they walked past. “Hellooo…” Mike trailed off, turning back and tracking Jamie as they walked away, staring at them for a few seconds as they walked off and towards a black car with dimmed out windows, which Jamie entered. It drove away.

As Mike unlocked the door, he noticed his mother throwing an envelope in the bin. “Who was that at the door?” Mike asked, faking ignorance. “Oh, just an old school friend, nothing special.” Claire reassured, lying exceptionally well, to the point Mike wouldn’t realise it was a lie if he didn’t know better. “I thought I saw him give you something.” Mike responded, trying to get the truth out of her.

“Ah, returning my earrings.” She responded, gesturing to her earrings on the table. “I lost them in ballet class, they returned them.” Claire added. “I thought he was an old school friend?” Mike asked, emphasising the word ‘old’. Claire turned back, staring at him for a few seconds, he stared back. “Yes, I… reconnected with him through my classes.” She said, trying to get her story right, having not expected him to question it.

“How was your day?” Claire inquired, trying to change the topic. “Boring, nothing happened, just had to do a few chores.” Mike lied, surprising himself with how good he lied, he couldn’t have lied this good yesterday if he had a gun to his head. “It’ll teach you responsibility.” Claire said. Mike nodded.

“I’m gonna go upstairs, I’m tired.” Mike said, excusing himself upstairs. “Night Mike.” Claire said, Mike responded as he walked up the spiral staircase. Mike entered his bedroom and locked the door, it wasn’t something he did often but often enough that it wouldn’t raise suspicion from Claire. He walked over to his desk then to his laptop, opening it, he opened his desk and into a secret compartment he’d built into it with a USB.

He put in the USB, his laptop screen froze up, before returning back to normal. The USB deactivated the parental controls his mum had put on and activated a VPN which hid his search history and made it almost untraceable, just in case. He opened Bing and searched up Fazbear Entertainment, he was quickly directed to their website and made his way to the staff directory.

His eyes skimmed through the CEO to the COO, Calliope. He clicked on her name and it opened a document about her. “Calliope A, Chief Operating Officer, 38, been with Fazbear Entertainment for 14 years.” Mike mumbled, he then opened a new tab and typed her name, hundreds of news articles about or mentioning her, a whole reddit post dedicated to finding out if she was a real person or an animatronic.

“An animatronic can’t look like a human, that’s stupid.” Mike stated, going back to the staff directory. He scrolled down to ‘Secretaries’ and couldn’t find Jamie. Next he searched ‘Jamie Fazbear Entertainment’ and got no results. “I don’t get it..” Mike said to himself. “Calliope is the second most powerful person in the company, as her secretary Jamie would have to be pretty powerful too, so where are they?” Mike asked himself. 

He tried to look more vaguely with ‘Pink hair Fazbear Entertainment’ but nothing appeared. “Who are you, Jamie?” Mike mumbled. 

Calliope lined up the stick to the balls, hitting the blue ball on the pool table and hitting in three other balls. “This is a lot more entertaining than Chess.” Calliope stated, passing the stick to Jamie, who took it and begun lining up their shot. “It seems very counterproductive to bring me back to the headquarters when you’re going to send me back to the Pizzeria in,” Jamie peered over to the window, calculating the time through the moon. “16 hours.” Jamie said, hitting the ball and getting no points.

“I don’t like phone calls. It’s why you're dealing with Claire and I’m not.” Calliope reminded. “What do you think of the night guard?” Calliope asked, taking the stick back and hitting the blue ball, knocking another 2 balls into the holes. “Now you’re just flexing your skill.” Jamie mumbled, grabbing the stick. “I think the night guard is a very intelligent individual who will take it on himself to figure out the mystery of that place.” Jamie expressed, once again trying to line up his shot, there was still enough balls to hit into the holes and beat Calliope.

“That place is full of mysteries.” Calliope responded, turning to the window in her office and staring out at the city, she knew more than most people about Fazbear Entertainment’s history. “Hence why I’ve removed myself from the company website and the internet. If he’s focused on the mystery of my identity, he won’t question the real mysteries.” Jamie explained. “This is why you're my secretary, always one step ahead.” Calliope said, grabbing the hot coffee cup on her desk and taking a sip.

“Well, actually, ma’am. I’m usually around six steps ahead.” Jamie corrected, hitting the ball. Calliope turned around just in time to see every remaining ball hit each other and fall into the various holes on the pool table. “How the FUCK did you do that?” Calliope asked, rushing over to the now empty pool table. “I hit the ball.” Jamie responded, deadpan, placing the stick on the table. “No shit.” Calliope cursed, realising Jamie had tricked her into lining up all the balls so he could get them all in.

Chapter Text

Jamie stood at the doors to the pizza place, staring absentmindedly into the forest nearby the pizza place. Jamie wasn’t sure why they chose to build the pizzeria here, they’d insisted it was just because the locals were wealthy but Jamie knew better, Calliope and the CEO had a shouting match the day the plans were announced. Although it was more one-sided, with the CEO replying calmly as Calliope shouted.

As they looked to the part of the town with buildings, they noticed Mike walking towards them with black headphones, adorned in stickers, on their ears. “Hey!” Mike waved, taking them off his left ear to hear Jamie. “You’re late by, uh, four minutes.” Jamie stated, looking down at their wristwatch mid way through their words. “Sorry.” Mike apologised, taking his headphones off and resting them around his neck. “You locking me in again?” Mike asked. 

Jamie nodded, opening the doors to the pizza place and gesturing inside. “Thanks.” Mike thanked, walking in, as Jamie closed the door. Mike reached out and placed his foot in the way of shutting the door. “Why are you still here?” Mike asked, staring Jamie dead in the eyes. “You don’t work here, in this pizzeria, I mean.” Mike recalled, having asked Jamie that the first time they met.

“I searched up your boss, Calliope, there’s thousand of results. News articles, documents, whole Reddit conversations about her, a Wikipedia page, pictures. She’s the Chief Operation Officer of Fazbear Entertainment.” Mike continued, having barely slept due to how much he researched her. “But there’s nothing about you. You know what’s really peculiar, the website said she has no secretary.” Mike added, still staring dead at Jamie, who didn’t react.

“That’s interesting.” Jamie responded, sounding unconcerned, their forehead begun to bleed, leading to them taking out a tissue and cleaning the blood. “You talked to my mum.” Mike reminded, emphasising the ‘mum’. “Why did you talk to her, by the way?” Mike asked, trying to make it sound casual in hopes of getting an answer. “What’d she tell you?” Jamie asked. “You first.” Mike replied. “No sorry, I, uh, you need to tell me the lie she fed you first so I can lie to you as well.” Jamie explained, not even trying to hide it, their heart clearly not in their half assed lie. “You just admitted it was a lie!” Mike pointed out. “I, uh, don’t recall that.” Jamie responded, with a shrug, like always his pale blue eyes showed no emotions.

“I’m going to find out who you are.” Mike challenged, determined, as he pulled his foot back and allowed Jamie to close and lock the door, he stared at Jamie a few seconds after the door shut, before turning away and walking further into the pizza place. He looked up at the stage, where Freddy was on the stage, seemingly deactivated. 

“Oh, maybe Freddy’s offline today.” Mike theorised, and like someone heard him and specifically wanted to spite him, Freddy’s eyes became bright. “Hey night guard!” Freddy exclaimed, jumping off the stage and walking over to Mike. “Hey Freddy..” Mike said, putting his hand up to wave slightly. “Let's play a board game!” Freddy decided.

“I need to check my to-do list.” Mike responded, making his way through the pizza place towards the security office, Freddy followed close behind. “What if you just… don’t do it?” Freddy asked. “Then I’ll get fired.” Mike argued, walking into the Security office and pressing a button on the phone.

“Uh hello? Oh hey!” The appropriately nicknamed phone guy begun, his voice strangely excited. “Uh wow this place is so clean! You really did most of your chores, I mean, actually cleaning parts & service? Amazing!” The voice continued, seemingly proud of Mike almost completing the to-do list. “I left you a long list to test how much you would actually do, to see how far I could push you.” He explained, enraging Mike.

“Now that you know that you’ll probably do less chores but, hey, that’s fine. I got one day of work out of ya’.” The voice said, as Mike noticed a to-do list with only 3 easy chores written on it. “Uhh and just sayin’ between you and me there’s been this guy from corporate, uhh Jamie? I think that’s their name. They’ve been hanging around the Pizzeria lately, kicked me out of my own office. And they’ve also been locking the place up. I think they're trying to keep an eye on you?” The voice theorised.

“So just, uh, be careful. Corporate doesn’t really do that sort of thing, but this Pizzeria does have an interesting,” The voice hesitated. “Quality.” It continued. “They, uh, built this thing over,” The voice paused, weighing their options. “N-Nevermind. Nevermind. Sorry.” The voice said, sounding like they regretted their choices and had just stopped themselves.

“Forget I said anything. Just, uh, do your chores and the pay will go into your bank account, or, we’ll deliver it in an envelope.” The voice said, the sounds of shuffling. “Sorry, what’s that?” The voice asked, Mike heard whispers that weren’t the guy's voice from the phone. “Oh, shit?” The voice mumbled. “Uh sorry, gotta go. One of the animatronics malfunctioned and hit a kid, that’s a lawsuit and a half alright.” The voice explained. “They’ve been so hostile lately,” The voice mumbled, it sounded like he was getting off his seat. “Uh bye, and remember. You are the face of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!” The voice said, an artificial happy tone. “Yeah sorry, corporate orders, to say that in all messages.” The voice explained, as the call cut off.

Mike looked back at his to-do list, then Freddy. “Okay! And you're not gonna try killing me today.” Mike made sure. “I would never do that.” Freddy insisted. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” Freddy promised. “You don’t have a heart.” Mike responded, causing Freddy to shrug.

“I’m hungry.” Freddy decided, beginning to walk off. “Freddy, listen, I’ll get my chores done. You cook us something? Okay.” Mike offered, Freddy nodded in response. “Okay, good!” Mike said to himself, as Freddy walked off. He looked at his chores, he just had to fix two light bulbs and mop one of the small party rooms.

The time reached 12:33am as Mike walked back into the security office and crossed the final thing off the list. “That was a lot easier than yesterday.” Mike said to himself. He suddenly got an idea and took out his phone, finding himself back on the staff directory of Fazbear Entertainment. “I need to know everyone in this company like the back of my hand.” Mike mumbled, if corporate was gonna stalk him then he needed to stalk them back.

He scrolled down to ‘Heads of Departments’ and clicked on the first one he noticed. “Andrew Afton .” Mike read out, as the file about him opened. “Head of the mechanic and engineering department known as Afton Robotics.” Mike recognised ‘A. Robotics’ from the spare Bonnie head yesterday. “Brother of the founder of Fazbear Entertainment.” Mike's eyebrow slightly raised at the word ‘Founder’, he realised the website had never mentioned the Founder by name. 

He moved to Google and searched up ‘Fazbear Entertainment Founder’ and got a Wikipedia page result. “William Afton” Mike clicked on the page, ready to read more when suddenly, the sounds of pots and pans dropping along with the cracking of a fire from the kitchen. Mike suddenly remembered he got Freddy to go make them something. “Uh oh.” Mike said, pocketing his phone.

Mike rushed into the kitchen just in time to see Freddy, surrounded by kitchen utensils on the floor, hitting a small fire from the oven with a fire extinguisher “Freddy!” Mike exclaimed, his voice cracked as he rushed over and snatched the fire extinguisher away and used it to extinguish the fire properly. “Ooh that's how it works. I knew that.” Freddy lied, as Mike slotted the fire extinguisher into the corner and looked at the charred remains of a pizza in the oven.

“You don't know how to cook, do you?” Mike asked, in hindsight, he probably should've asked before sending Freddy to make food. “Not at all.” Freddy responded, Mike sighed. “Great.” He mumbled, looking down. “Chica can cook.” Freddy added, causing Mike to look back up. “Chica isn't online.” Mike pointed out, seriously questioning Freddy's intelligence.

“We can activate her!” Freddy exclaimed, leaving the kitchen and walking towards the stage, with Mike following close behind. “I don't think we need another animatronic online.” Mike said, trying to dismay Freddy into activating Chica. Freddy didn't listen, walking up the stairs and onto the stage towards Chica.

“Chica, wakey wakey pizza and pizza.” Freddy said, waving his hand in front of Chica's glossy eyes to try get her attention. “Should I kick her?” Freddy asked. “Don't kick he-” Before Mike even finish, Freddy kicked her and Chica collapsed onto the floor, still showing no signs of sentience. “I know!” Freddy said, having a ‘eureka’ moment. Right above him, the light bulb sparked and turned off. “That's a good sign.” Mike sarcastically mumbled.

“We find Chica's cupcake!” Freddy announced, pointing at Chica's empty hand. Mike paused, staring at Freddy for some indication that he wasn't serious. He found none. “That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard.” Mike responded, completely deadpan. “No, it's genius!” Freddy insisted. “Run me through your thought process here.” Mike said, wanting to see how anybody could possibly come to the conclusion that the solution to activating Chica was to give her her probably plastic cupcake.

“Chica's Cupcake is like her missing part, she had it during the day while performing, when she accidentally hit a kid, Chica's cupcake was thrown to the other side of the room.” Freddy recalled. “Okay, fine.” Mike conceded, deciding he had nothing better to do than entertain Freddy's idea.

“Where'd you last see Chica's cupcake?” Mike asked, causing Freddy to jump down from the stage and over to the other side of the room. “Right..” Freddy paused, walking up to the wall and pointing right in front of a vent. “Here!” Freddy said, continuing to point. “Oh great, so that things in the vents.” Mike said, ducking down onto the floor to look into the vent.

“If that things in the vents then there's no way we're finding it.” Mike stated, pushing the vent up and looking inside it. “Uhh nope, I see nothi- OW FUCK-” Mike exclaimed, as the Cupcake jumped from the shadows and bit Mike's nose. “Fuck you fuck you fuck you-” Mike cursed, extensively, pulling his head out the vent and trying to get the Cupcake off his nose.

“I don't think you're meant to say those words, Mike.” Freddy said, staring unhelpfully. “Just help me get it off.” Mike responded, struggling as he tried to pull it off. Freddy reached over and went to grab the Cupcake, it jumped off Mike's face and onto Freddy. “Ah!” Freddy exclaimed, as it grabbed a wire sticking out Freddy's eye socket and used it to rip out his eye. “OW?” Freddy exclaimed, as the Cupcake hopped off Freddy and back into the vent with Freddy's eye in its mouth.

“Uhm, you know Mike, maybe we should give up.” Freddy decided, conceding instantly. “No, no, no.” Mike said, looking up while clutching his nose. “This is personal now.” Mike said, determined. He rushed over to the security office to get the tablet and a torch which he put in his pocket. “I'm going in.” Mike said to Freddy, climbing up onto the desk and into the vent at the top of the security office and crawled in.

As Mike crawled through the vent he clicked a button on the tablet, blinking icons of each of the animatronics appeared on the screen, including the Cupcake. Mike crawled through the vents towards it, coming to the ventilation above the stage as the Cupcake crawled out the shadows and into Mike's views, still with Freddy's eye in its mouth.

“Hello.” Mike said, quietly, as him and the Cupcake stared at each other like a standoff. After a moment, the Cupcake charged towards Mike. He reached into his pocket and took out his flashlight, as the Cupcake got closer, he flashed the light. Momentarily stopping it as he jumped forward and grabbed it.

“Got you you little-” Mike quickly regretted his decision as it used its surprising strength to throw Mike into the left wall of the vent. He reached into his pocket and used his knife, slicing the cupcake slightly and causing a dent. Mike threw the weight of his body onto the vent and shattered through it, collapsing down onto the centre stage with the Cupcake in hand.

The Cupcake slammed Mike onto the floor next to Chica, as he struggled and kicked the knife next to him with his foot. He grabbed it and stabbed out the Cupcake’s eye, causing sparks to fly as he slammed the Cupcake into Chica’s hand. Mechanical strings bolted from Chica’s hand and locked the Cupcake in place onto her hand.

Mike took short deep breaths, as Freddy rushed in. “Are you okay?” Freddy asked, walking over and helping Mike get up. “THAT thing is strong.” Mike said, through his breaths, as he pulled Chica up. “If I did all that for nothing, I'm attacking you next.” Mike threatened Freddy, he couldn't even tell himself if it was an empty threat or not. “Your eyes on the floor, by the way.” Mike said, pointing to Freddy's eye, Freddy decided he'd get it later.

“Chica?” Freddy asked, staring at Chica. Suddenly, she blinked. Once. Then twice. Her eyes stopped being glossy. “I can't believe that actually worked.” Mike said, still out of breath. Chica's eyes suddenly went dark, with a single white dot, like Freddy's when he first attacked Mike. Chica moved slightly, taking a step forward towards Freddy. “Chica! You're workin-” Freddy was interrupted when Chica threw her arm forward hitting Freddy off the stage.

“Agh-” Freddy exclaimed, as Mike jumped off the stage and grabbed Freddy mid fall, pulling him up. “Run?” Mike suggested. Freddy stared as Chica walked forward. “Yeahh, that's probably a good idea.” Freddy nodded.

Chapter Text

< Chapter Five (5) - Chica attacks?! >

Freddy and Mike rushed to the kitchen, as Chica followed from behind with her dead eyes. Mike got to the kitchen first, pulling the door open as Freddy rushed in, he slammed it shut behind him. Mike almost collapsed down, breathing heavily but relieved. “Hold on.” Freddy said, looking at the door. “That door can’t be locked, what is it actually doing against Chica?” Freddy asked.

Mike paused for a second, thinking. “Good poin-” Mike said, being interrupted as Chica almost broke the door of the hinges by walking through. “Uh- Ah-” Mike stuttered, looking around as Chica walked towards him. “Go fork!” Mike said, grabbing a fork and throwing it at Chica, predictably it did nothing. “Yeah I’m not sure where I was going with that.” Mike said, ducking down as Chica threw her hand forward in a swing which would’ve probably decapitated Mike (Maybe not that bad, but it would’ve done damage). He felt something on his cheek, reaching up he felt blood, a small cut.

Mike had never been hurt before, even when he was a child he’d never scraped his knees. It was one of his main bragging points in School. “I-” Mike stuttered, staring down at his hand with a smudge of blood on his finger, he was in too much shock to realise Chica was about to hit him again.

“Freddy attack!” Freddy exclaimed, rushing forward and pushed Chica forward, throwing her onto the table and snapping Mike out of his shock. “You’re welcome Mike.” Freddy said, proudly and feeling self accomplished as Mike grabbed him and pulled him out the kitchen. “Where are we going now?” Freddy asked, looking back at the kitchen door as Mike continued to drag Freddy into the main room. “Hold on!” Freddy said, letting go of Mike and picking up the eye that Cupcake had tore out him. “There we go.” Freddy said, as Mike grabbed his hand and continued to pull him towards the Security office. Once they arrived, he slammed both the doors shut.

Mike let go of Freddy’s hand and started looking through his bag. “Flashlight, phone, switchblade.” Mike listed, taking things out and placing them on the desk. “Saying no no words and bringing weapons in? I’m gonna have to report you, night guard.” Freddy said, folding his arms like a disappointed father (Or, at least, what Mike imagined a disappointed father would look like). “We’re being attacked by Chica! Report her!” Mike exclaimed, taking out his makeup, house keys, wrench, and also dumping them on the desk. Realistically, he didn’t have anything to fight against a giant animatronic, but he’ll look anyway.

“That’s not Chica, you can tell by the eyes. It must be her evil twin or something.” Freddy responded, suddenly the glass on the right side of the room banged as Chica slammed her hand onto it, her eyes still pitch black except the one white dot. “See, evil.” Freddy said, certain. “No, the eyes are just like yours the first night I was here!” Mike said, still looking through his bag. “And now she’s attacking me like you did the first night!” Mike continued.

“I told you I didn’t attack you!” Freddy said, not remembering, suddenly Chica’s hand reached through the hole Freddy had made in the door yesterday, grabbed Freddy and began pulling him towards her. “AHH!” Freddy shouted, getting out of the grip and running to the opposite side of the room. “Okay, I believe you now!” Freddy admitted. “Maybe I was possessed?” He theorised.

Mike took the last things out of his bag, a pipe wrench he took from home and a roll of cellotape. “Okay, how is any of this meant to help!” Mike complained, putting emphasis on ‘any’. He cursed his past self for not planning against killer animatronic chasing after him. 

“Okay, let me think!” Mike said, pausing and trying to tune everything out. He could use the vents to escape, but last time he tried that he almost died (And he’ll still have to come back tomorrow), he could hold out in the Office for the next 5 hours, but Chica seemed dangerously close to managing to open the doors. He looked at all the items he had, picking up his phone and typing in the number for emergency services, and suddenly, the office phone began ringing, as if on cue.

“Uh, hey, me again!” The voice on the phone began, the same one from the past few calls. “If you call emergency services you’ll be fired. Just, uh, a warning, not that you’d ever do that.” The voice warned, no background noise or anything. Strangely silent. The recording cut off again. Mike sighed, placing down his phone. “Point taken.” Mike half mumbled, looking back down to the items.

Suddenly, he got an idea, thinking back to a small red cylinder he had seen in the corner of parts and services. Whilst cleaning parts and services Freddy had explained it was a charging station for any other animatronics who would be sent to the Pizzeria. He picked up his cellotape and pipe wrench, putting the cellotape in his pocket.

“Freddy! Stall Chica for a few minutes then lead her to parts and services!” Mike said, opening the door on the left and running through the hallways into Parts and Services. “Okay, I’ve only got a few minutes.” Mike said, looking around and identifying the components around the place, finally a time to put his mechanic skills to work.

He identified the charging station and walked over to it, its door slid open as he propped it open with a Bonnie head. He then grabbed a Freddy arm model on the shelf and began stripping it to its endoskeleton form. Then extracted the wires from the Bonnie head he was using to prop open the charging station door, he entered the charging station and connected the wires to the interior top through cellotape. He then placed the endoskeleton arm on the side of the back of the inside of the charging station and wrapped wires around it. 

Mike repeated this process multiple times quickly, placing endoskeleton arms on each side of the inside of the charging station and connecting them through wires. “Okay, now I need…” Mike looked around, noticing a small metal box labelled ‘Circuits - Fragile, do not touch’, he picked up the box, inspecting it and noticing a small rusty lock. He looked for a key, but after around four seconds of not being able to locate it, he brought the box into the air and slammed it into the shelf, shattering the lock. He opened the box to a number of different shaped circuit boards.

“Single sided, double sided, multilayer, rigid,” Mike mumbled, identifying multiple types of circuit boards but none were optimal for what he needed. “Aha!” Mike said, finding a type of circuit board he recognised. It was from the 1990s and banned due to faulty workings that caused the machines it was used to create to deactivate when enough electricity was detected. Mike heard sounds from , realising he didn’t have much time left.

He placed the box and went back into the charging station, connecting the circuit board to the palm of one of the endoskeleton arms. “Okay, there.” Mike whispered, quietly. He then hopped out the charging station and took away the bonnie head keeping the door open, he looked behind the charging station and found wires connected to nothing. “Perfect.” Mike said, grabbing the wires and connecting them to the same charging port the computer in the corner was connected too.

Mike opened a programming window and began typing, he was semi rusty on programming but knew enough of the basics. “Mikeeee!” Freddy shouted, rushing into parts and services and dragging out the ‘e’. Chica ran in after him. “Push her in there!” Mike said, pointing at the charging station, Freddy nodded and grabbed Chica, she almost overpowered him but he managed to push her into the charging station.

She looked up angrily, ready to walk out of it and tear Freddy apart, but Mike pressed a button on the computer and the endoskeleton arms grabbed her. Two of them grabbed her left arm, then two of them grabbed her right arm, holding her in space. She let out an inhumane scream as one of them - The one with a circuit board on the palm - grabbed the back of her forehead.

Mike clicked another button as electricity overloaded the endoskeleton arm, the circuit board began sparking and sent a signal into Chica’s head, overloading her systems as she let out another scream. After a few seconds, her eyes went completely black and her eyelids shut as her head hung down, deactivated.

“Woah… What did you do?” Freddy asked, impressed. “Simple! First I programmed the endoskeleton arms to grab Chica and hold her in space, then I overloaded the electricity in the circuit board touching her and it sent a signal into the CPU inside her overloading her systems, the emergency system activated and deactivated her so the electricity didn’t fry her CPU.” Mike explained.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” Freddy said, Mike shrugged. “It’s a hobby.” He responded, opening the charging port and prying Chica out of the cold mechanical hands. “Will anyone wonder about the hands?” Mike asked as he looked to the charging station, holding Chica as he pulled her onto the table with surprising ease. “Eh, our mechanic went missing last week.” Freddy shrugged, Mike decided to care about that at a later date as he noticed two buttons on either side of Chica’s head. He pressed both buttons at the same time, the face plate unlocked and Mike took it off, staring into the endoskeleton.

“How did you know how to do that?” Freddy asked, Mike didn’t have an answer.

Freddy took one of the slices of Pizza from the white simplistic pizza box, taking a bite as he watched Mike look at the circuitry inside Chica’s head. “Okay, I think I’ve figured out the issue.” Mike said, finally, beckoning Freddy to look. “Chica’s CPU should be in control, but it’s not,” Mike pointed at a yellow CPU, it had one flashing light but the light was dim. “The CPU in control is this one,” Mike continued, pointing to a plain white CPU with an orange light. 

“The manual says the white CPU is the connection to the Master Operations Node, the yellow CPU is Chica.” Mike explained, pointing at the manual which had a depiction of both CPUs. “So all I do is,” Mike grabbed the white CPU and detached it from Chica, a few wires coming out along with it. “That should fix it!” Mike said, pocketing the CPU, he pressed a button on the endoskeleton, just above the eye, then placed the faceplate back on, it locked back into place.

Mike and Freddy stared at Chica, waiting. She flinched slightly, before looking up, her eyes blinked rapidly before she opened her eyes, Mike held up his pipe wrench protectively. “I thought you said she wasn’t gonna attack us?” Freddy whispered. “I’m not taking any chances!” Mike argued back, cautiously. Chica’s eyes looked around the room, seemingly disorientated.

“Uh, hi?” Chica said, confused. “Chica, are you gonna try to kill us?” Freddy asked. “Why would I do that?” Chica asked, confused. “Wasn’t I just on the stage?” She continued. “Ah! My head,” She exclaimed suddenly, touching the temple of her head. “It’s like there’s something missing.” She said, still clutching her head. 

“Uh, Mike.” Freddy said, grabbing Mike’s shoulders and making him face the opposite way from Chica. “Do you think that has something to do with the fact you removed that CPU from her head?” Freddy questioned. “What- Pfft, no.” Mike said, dismissing the idea. “Maybe.” He added. “Possibly.” He continued. “Probably.” He conceded, picking up the manual and flicking through pages to find the one about CPU removal.

“Absolutely do not remove the NC CPU (Node Connection CPU) at any time. Side effects may include; Malfunctions, programming relapses, memory glitches, etc. Anyone found to be meddling with the animatronics will be met with a civil lawsuit.” Mike read outloud, slightly worried. “Well, at least she won’t kill us?” He reasoned, trying to find the bright side. “What about your lawsuit?” Freddy asked. “Lucky the mechanic went missing?” Mike reasoned, he hated to be happy about the fact someone went missing but he’d take what was given.

“I can fix that later!” Mike offered, turning back to Chica. “Are you the mechanic?” Chica asked, not recognising Mike. “I’m the Security Guard.” Mike said, proudly (Like that was something to be proud about). “His real name is Night Guard, but we all call him Mike.” Freddy added. “What? N-No it isn’t? Who’s WE? What?” Mike said, confused about that entire sentence.

“Chica, can you make us Pizza?” Freddy asked, ignoring Mike’s probing. “Sure! I love cooking!” Chica said, jumping up from the table. “I have my own cooking channel!” Chica bragged. “I don’t think that’s true.” Mike half mumbled, as Chica walked out Parts and Services and towards the kitchen.

“Hold on, you have Pizza? Why’d you ask her to make more?” Mike asked, pointing out the Pizza Freddy had on the table. “I’m hungry.” He argued, picking up the box and sliding the remaining slices into his mouth. “There’s-” Mike’s words got stuck in his throat. “There’s no way that isn’t affecting your systems or something?” Mike said, confused, checking the manual.

“Oh, what do you know, animatronics can eat.” Mike said, reading the manual which explained original models were built with the ability to eat for 100% realism, unaware of the fact Freddy had already wandered off. “Apparently no animatronic models have been able to copy it since then, The Founder was ahead of his time with the animatronics.” Mike continued, paraphrasing what he was reading.

“All Fazbear Entertainment mechanics and technicians learn specific ways to manufacture animatronics based on the works of The Founder, these Fazbear Entertainment trained technicians are known as Faz-Technicians.” Mike read. “Well that’s a stupid name.” Mike remarked, as Freddy shouted at Mike to come eat the pizza.

Mike walked out of the Pizzeria and towards home, once again deciding to take a detour through a dimly lit alleyway to shorten his walk home by twelve minutes. He passed into the alleyway, stepping over the bags of trash like last time. The mystery liquid was gone, maybe someone had cleaned it up. As he jumped past a trashbag, he noticed a broken shard of glass.

He picked the shard up for some reason, it seemed to be from a wine bottle or something, as he looked at himself in the reflection. He noticed the cut on his cheek from earlier, the blood was mostly dried, he forgot to clean it, his mum would definitely notice. He cursed himself silently, but before he could place the shard down, he noticed a silhouette reflected behind him.

Before Mike could react, he was slammed into the wall by the figure. “Fuck-” Mike managed to get out as the figure covered his mouth with a gloved hand, Mike tried to fight back but was failing badly, the figure had a good grip on him. He tried to take in his features but the figure was wearing almost entirely black, with a black face mask covering his mouth and some sort of goggles while his hair was covered by a hood, all Mike could make out was some brown hair.

Mike bit the hand covering his mouth, causing the figure to pull it back in surprise, when the figure did that Mike pushed himself onto the wall and used it to prop himself up as he then threw himself forward, headbutting the figure. The figure quickly recovered and punched Mike in the face, throwing him back. Mike tried to fight back but the figure got the upper hand again, kicking his knee then stabbing a glass shard into his arm.

Mike shouted in pain as the figure punched Mike’s face again and again. Mike looked into the figures concealed eyes and the figure paused, as if they recognised Mike. Maybe they did? Mike took that moment to take the switchblade from his pocket and stab it into the figure’s shoulder, the figure stumbled back in pain as Mike swung again, slicing through the figure’s clothes and getting them in the chest, not a very deep cut but a cut nonetheless.

The figure took out a syringe and tried to inject Mike, but Mike managed to dodge and kicked the figure in the knee, then stabbed the pocket knife into the figure’s hand, pulling it out. The figure stumbled back, falling over as Mike ran away, panting heavily. It didn’t take him long, on account of what was presumably adrenaline coursing through his veins and making him run faster, to get home. He pushed the door open and shut it behind him.

“That was a fast walk ho-” Claire began, before noticing Mike’s various bruises. “Mike!” Claire exclaimed, dropping the cutlery she was putting away and rushing over to help him, she helped him sit on the couch. “What happened?” Claire asked, as she rushed to get the first aid kit from the kitchen counter. 

“Some- Guy in the alley attacked me.” Mike mumbled out, he wasn’t attacked as badly as his mum made it out to be but going from never having a single bruise to being attacked was a huge jump. Claire rushed over and rolled Mike’s sleeve up, taking out the glass shard and disinfecting the wound with a wipe. She then administered a plaster.

She looked elsewhere on his body for bruises but only found minor ones. She then looked at the cut on his cheek. “Did the guy have a knife?” Claire asked, her tone sounded weird. “N-No? I don’t think so?” Mike said, wincing slightly as Claire touched the cut with a wipe. “Are you sure?” Claire asked, Mike nodded, confused.

“There’s some traces of metal on this cut.” Claire observed, causing Mike to panic inside. If he admitted he got it from a killer animatronic two things could happen; His mum would either call a mental asylum, or his mum would make him quit, and she was already nervous enough about the job for some reason. Mike tried to come up with some sort of excuse.

“The- They must have- Had a knife or something. I just didn’t- See it in the, uh, in- In the panic.” Mike said, stuttering intensely whilst trying to perpetuate his lie. He expected his mum to point that out but… she didn’t. She seemed to accept it. “Go wash your face, tell me if it feels painful anywhere else.” Claire said, Mike nodded and walked upstairs to wash his face.

Once she was sure Mike was out of ear view. “Liar.” Claire whispered to herself. She picked up her phone and typed in a number. “You were meant to protect my son.” Claire said, as soon as the caller picked up. “We’re keeping an eye on him.” The deadpan voice from the other side responded. “Not enough.” Claire spat back, venom in her voice. “Listen to me, Jamie. Tell your boss, or your boss’ boss, I don’t give a shit who, that they take my son’s safety seriously. Or I will make your company go bankrupt.” Claire threatened, her voice still quiet so Mike didn’t hear her.

“You don’t have that sort of power, Mrs. Schmidt.” Jamie responded on the phone. “Try me.” Claire said, the phone went silent for a few seconds. “I’ll see what can be done. But, you must understand, that place has specific threats that the corporation cannot exactly protect him from, without him noticing.” Jamie explained.

“Then the Corporation will no longer be anything.” Claire stated, harshly. Jamie didn’t respond for some time, a long silence. “I’ll… I’ll get someone on it.” Jamie offered.

Jamie drove the car that Calliope had allowed them to have, a simple black car with blacked out windows so nobody could see inside. They don't technically have a driver licence but who had to know that, they pulled into the parking lot and parked their car. The driving lot was basically empty except for them and one other car. It would’ve been confusing if there was many other cars considering the driving lot was in front of a Fazbear Entertainment warehouse. 

Jamie got out of the car and locked the doors behind them. They walked towards the other car, it was a yellow-painted eyesore (Or, a jeep with a pickup bed, but Jamie had never been big on cars), Jamie dreaded the conversation, the only time they’d ever met the owner was during a company meeting for the new CEO in which the man said all of… four words which were ‘Can I go now’.

Jamie stopped at the jeep and knocked on the windows, there were some sort of curtains on the window so Jamie couldn’t see inside. After a few seconds of waiting they knocked again, then again, then one more time. They heard a loud sigh and some shuffling as the curtains opened and the window rolled down. 

“Can’t a guy get some sleep? It’s 7am.” The man complained, looking almost identical to when Jamie had last seen him. His brown hair was still graying at the sides, and he clearly hadn’t shaved very well. “Oh you’re-” The man paused, stuttering slightly as he was clearly tired. “Calliope’s assistant?” The man guessed.

“Close enough. Are you Andrew?” Jamie asked, knowing the answer. “You know it, but call me Andy. What do you want? If this is about a new animatronic you want me to make, just leave a call. I’ll have that gator one done by next month.” Andrew said, going to roll up his windows again. “It’s not.” Jamie stated, Andrew scoffed, wanting to get the conversation done.

“I need a security animatronic, for the Pizza place.” Jamie explained. Andrew laughed slightly. “Is that so?” He asked. “Well maybe, just maybe, if you guys didn’t build that Pizza place over the most dangerous location in the history of the corporation, then have all the animatronics connected to the most dangerous animatronic in the history of the corporation, you wouldn’t be having this issue.” Andrew said, annoyed, he went to roll up his window.

Jamie scrambled to stop him, putting their hand into the window gap so Andrew couldn’t roll it down. “Please.” Jamie said, trying to appeal to him. Andrew stared, then sighed. “Has anyone died?” Andrew asked. “Officially, no. Unofficially, we have four deaths that may be linked to it.” Jamie said, knowing that Fazbear Entertainment wouldn’t like them admitting that.

“I need a specific animatronic.” Andrew said, remembering back to events he had tried to distract himself from for the past few decades. “Name? I’ll search for it in the system, get it delivered today.” Jamie offered. “It’s not in the system.” Andrew said, not looking Jamie in the eyes. “It’s in the local scrapyard, contained in a giant metal cylinder, just bring the whole cylinder.” Andrew recalled, his eyes threatening to begin crying. “Why.” Jamie asked, eyebrow raised slightly, a hint of emotion. “Don’t ask questions.” Andrew responded, coldly.

“Understood.” Jamie nodded, the company motto was pretty much ‘Don’t ask questions’. “Can I have a ride?” Jamie asked. “You have a car.” Andrew pointed out, he wasn’t very interested in giving rides, gas costs a lot these days (Ignoring his huge amount of wealth). “I don’t have a driving licence.” Jamie explained. “And I don’t have the space for a cylinder to fit into my car.” They pointed out.

Andrew sighed again. “Fine, get in.” He conceded, unlocking the door. “Thank you.” Jamie thanked, climbing into the car, Andrew pulled a blanket and a pillow out the way. The car was covered in Fazbear Entertainment memorabilia, some of the stuff here would go for a fortune due to its rarity. “Why isn’t your boss the one handling this?” Andrew asked, turning the car on.

“It’s below her pay grade, and, frankly, I’m smarter.” Jamie stated, causing Andrew to smile slightly. “I like you, don’t let your confidence get to your head. Before you know it you’ll owe five thousand pounds worth of drugs to some people, then you’ll ask your brother for help and he’ll refuse because his business partner doesn’t want you to work for them, then you’ll get beat up in an alleyway, and then your brother will hire you but it’ll cause a void between him and his business partner and then-” Andrew paused, realising Jamie was looking at him weirdly. “Anyways! Let’s go.” Andrew said, moving on casually as he put the jeep in reverse.

Chapter Text

“And you'll be extra careful this time?” Claire checked, standing at the doorway as Mike stood on the path outside. “Yes, I promise.” Mike nodded, trying to alleviate her fears. “Can't you stay off for one more day?” Claire asked, practically begging. “They won't accept that I'm sick forever, mum. They could excuse me being off on the weekends, but that's it.” Mike explained, Claire had convinced him to stay off under the excuse of being sick to ‘recover’ from being attacked but Mike needed to get out of the house, as much as he enjoyed winning board games with his mum (Specifically the winning part, he loved to win) she would not let him get a moment of his own time since he was attacked.

“I'll stay safe, I won't use that alleyway anymore.” Mike convinced, Claire nodded. “O-Okay, fine.” She nodded, reminding herself Mike was able to protect himself. Once Mike had managed to convince her, he began walking through the street, jumpy at every noise. Mike was scared of everything as a child. Spiders, bugs, the dark, silence, crowds, enclosed spaces, balloons. Apparently, according to his mum, he was even scared of tall clowns at one point. Seriously, tall clowns? Only the tall ones? Where'd he get that fear from?

But he thought he'd gotten over all that, except the tall clowns, he'd never interacted with a tall clown to test that one. As he thought about his fears, he paused at the alleyway he’d been attacked in on Friday. He looked into it, and noticed a few drops of blood on the ground, he looked left and right, reasoning the attacker wouldn’t be in the alleyway because, well, why would they still be there.

Mike tiptoed through the alleyway quickly, getting to the drips of blood. He reached into his pocket and took out a homemade syringe, he’d used an empty pen, plastic and paper while following some tutorial he’d found online. He bent down and used the syringe to take some of the blood. He hadn’t really thought about the plan much, realistically what could he do with someone’s blood? Maybe DNA search for a match? But DNA wasn’t exactly public knowledge.

Mike put the syringe in his bag, with the blood inside and covered it in a tissue to keep it semi concealed (Explaining to anyone why he had a homemade syringe with blood inside would be a conversation, to say the least). He almost ran out the alleyway and continued down his normal path, getting to the Pizza place in around ten minutes due to his fast paced walk. When he arrived, Jamie was standing at the door.

“I heard what happened.” Jamie stated, holding the keys in his hands. “I’m sorry you were hurt.” They added, their voice sounding semi apologetic. “Why thank you very much, Jamie Murphy O’Conner.” Mike said, using Jamie’s full name. “Uh, right.” Jamie said, recovering from their confusion quickly. “I didn’t know we were on a full name basis.” Jamie said, opening the door for Mike.

“Keys, you can have them.” Jamie said, holding out the keys. “Thanks…” Mike said, grabbing the keys still suspicious of Jamie. “Born in Sheffield, joined Fazbear Entertainment 6 years ago straight after graduating from an extremely prestigious University.” Mike continued, walking into the door backwards so he could stare threateningly at Jamie. “Is this meant to scare me? Is it a threat?” Jamie asked, not afraid. “No, I’m just saying what I know. I’ve been busy this week, learning about Fazbear Entertainment’s employees.” Mike explained, it was wondrous how much information the internet gave out, it only cost $300 to have hackers scrape the internet for information, god was he lucky his mum didn’t question his spending habits.

“It’s unfortunate what happened to your boss’ siblings, huh.” Mike said, as he closed the door, the statement alarmed Jamie, but Mike locked the door and walked into the Pizza place. Jamie stood there for a few seconds longer, contemplating what they should do. “Well,” They paused. “Interesting.” Jamie finished, for once, they were slightly nervous. Only slightly. Or maybe a little more.

Mike walked through the entrance hall, completely forgetting to lock the door as he pocketed the keys. “Hey Freddy! I’m here!” Mike said, last time he had entered Chica and Freddy had been online, but maybe Chica would be offline? He’d been gone for two days so, things were bound to change; Maybe.

“Hi night guard!” Freddy said, sitting on a chair at a party table as he waved. Sitting at the table was every animatronic formerly on the stage - Freddy, Chica and Bonnie - “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you! Like…” Freddy paused, counting on his four fingers. “One, two, three, four… Twenty eight years!” Freddy counted, very totally accurately. “Yeah, sure, 28 years.” Mike said, not wanting to argue with Freddy who was clearly not the smartest.

“Hi Mike guard!” Chica said, sitting at the table as she waved at Mike. “That’s… not my name.” He began, before realising it was probably useless to tell her that. “Is your head still ringing?” Mike asked, hoping the answer would be no as he walked over to the table. “Yeah, but I got used to it!” She reassured, the ringing in her head was almost constant but she’d figured out how to distract herself from it. “That’s good!” Mike said, happy he wouldn’t have to fix that.

“This is Bonnie, say hi Bonnie.” Freddy said, gesturing to Bonnie like Mike wouldn’t know his name. Bonnie picked up a notepad and pen and wrote on it, then showing it to Mike. It read ‘Hello!’ with the exclamation mark dot a star, the handwriting was cursive. Making Mike wonder how an animatronic knew cursive. “Hi Bonnie!” Mike said, trying to make a good first impression. “Why is he using a notepad to write?” Mike asked.

“He doesn’t have a voice box for some reason, apparently the guy who helped repurpose us couldn’t create a voice box to fit.” Freddy explained. “Maybe I could try making one?” Mike offered, Bonnie scribbled something down on his notepad then held it up for everyone to see. ‘I don’t need a voice box, it’s fine’ It read. “Well, if you say so.” Mike shrugged, his pipe wrench still in his bag as he placed it onto the table.

“What about Foxy, is he activated?” Mike asked, Foxy was the only animatronic he’d barely seen beyond that one chore he had to do in the pirates cove area, and even then Foxy was on the small stage behind purple curtains. “He won’t come out of Pirates Cove, he’s protecting his ‘treasure’.” Freddy said, pointing to pirates cove, which looked distinctively different from the rest of the Pizzeria. “We tried to lure him out using Cake.” Chica recalled.

“And?” Mike asked, wanting to know the rest. “Freddy ate the cake when I turned around.” Chica said, looking at Freddy disapprovingly. “I was hungry!” Freddy argued back. “You’re always hungry.” Chica said back, equally as disapproving as her last comment. “We both like food. We should band together and make more.” Freddy offered, like he was a conflict mediator.

“Which means I make more food and you stand around in the kitchen.” Chica pointed out. “No! I would do things.” Freddy said back, almost aggressively. “Like what? Eat the chocolate off a spoon?” Chica remarked, as Freddy and Chica kept arguing with Bonnie in the middle of them.

“Guys, guys.” Mike interrupted, trying to talk down the argument (At this point change his job from Night Guard to babysitter considering the animatronics were like children). “Back to Foxy, argue later.” He said, looking at the pirates cove area. “Is his treasure like plastic coins?” Mike asked, expecting it to be fake.

“No, it’s stuff he stole.” Freddy began. “Chica’s whisk, Bonnie’s guitar, my microphone,” He paused for a second, before resuming his list. “Your bag.” Freddy said, putting a figure up for each listed item. “Sorry, what was the last one?” Mike asked, turning around just in time to see Foxy running away with his bag.

“MY BAG!” Mike exclaimed, running after Foxy into the pirates cove area, he noticed Foxy was the only animatronic wearing clothes, it appeared to be a Pirates outfit, a blue coat with golden accents and a pirate hat, Mike recalled Jamie’s words when they first met; That Foxy had a different creator than the rest of the animatronics which he considered may account for the uniqueness in design.

The pirates cove area was vastly different from the rest of the Pizza place, everything was pirate-themed. The table and chairs were wooden and the walls were plastered with wallpaper of a fake sea at the bottom and wooden, seemingly to resemble the inside of a pirate ship, Foxy climbed onto the stage and opened a treasure chest with his hook, throwing Mike’s bag in there and locking it shut.

“Give me my bag back!” Mike exclaimed, looking up at Foxy. “I will,” Foxy responded. “Oh that was easy-” Mike said, before being quickly interrupted. “If you beat me in a sword fight!” Foxy finished, Mike barely managed to say ‘what’ in response before Foxy pulled out a cutlass from seemingly thin air and jumped down in front of Mike.

“Okay, look, your plastic sword isn’t gonna do anything.” Mike said, as Foxy slashed forward with the sword, it slightly cut through Mike’s purple uniform. “Ah!” He exclaimed, stumbling back as Foxy slashed again. “IS THAT A REAL SWORD WHY DO YOU HAVE A REAL SWORD-” Mike said, inching backwards quickly as Foxy kept trying to attack him, he grabbed a fake treasure map on the table and threw it at Foxy, running away during Foxy’s momentary blindness.

He ran back to the other animatronics who were still sitting at the party table, Mike almost collapsed down breathing heavily. “WHY does Foxy have an ACTUAL SWORD?” He asked, raising his voice at certain words, Bonnie scribbled something on his notepad then held it up — ‘Realism.’ — “Well I don’t like it! Isn’t that a safety concern?” Mike asked, before remembering everything here was a safety concern.

“Well I need my bag back.” Mike said, trying to come up with a plan. “Let’s just let him have stuff, you can buy another bag for like… 5 pounds at the prize counter.” Freddy advised, clearly not having a clear grasp of prices of things. “Freddy you- You do know things are inside bags right? You put things in there.” Mike explained, unsure if Freddy’s lack of intelligence was due to him being an animatronic or due to him being Freddy. “Yeah but if you buy a bag you can just transfer all your things there.” Freddy pointed out, like it was obvious.

“That’s… not how that works.” Mike realised it would be pointless. “But don’t you want your microphone back?” Mike asked, trying to convince them. “And Chica, how are you gonna whisk ingredients without your whisk?” Mike asked. “And Bonnie, how will you make music without your guitar?” Mike asked. In response, Bonnie opened his mouth as the sounds of guitar strumming echoed out of it.

“You can do that but don’t have a voice box?” Mike asked, semi impressed. Bonnie half shrugged in response as Mike decided to move on. “Am I convincing anyone?” He asked, getting variations of ‘No’ from everyone. “Okay, well, look at it this way. Chica, without your whisk you can’t make certain foods, and without that Freddy can’t eat certain types of food.” Mike convinced.

“And my phone is in my bag so I can’t order food.” He continued. “He has a point.” Freddy said to Chica, who considered the point. “And Bonnie, I don’t know you well enough to convince you.” Mike said, knowing practically nothing about Bonnie. “Okay, fine, we’ll help.” Freddy decided. “I knew I was convincing.” Mike said, proudly.

He leaned over and ripped a piece of paper out Bonnie’s notebook then took his pen. “First things first…” Mike begun, beginning to draw out his plan while explaining. “So Foxy needs to be lured out of his stage so someone can get the treasure chest, whoever fights him will probably need a sword. Does anyone have a sword?” Mike asked, knowing the answer was probably no, but he held onto hope.

“Only Foxy has a sword, I don’t think there’s any spar-” Freddy didn’t finish as Bonnie took out a sword similar to Foxy’s. “Where did you get that?” Chica asked, surprised. Bonnie took his pen back and wrote ‘He had a spare one I stole’. “Okay, so, if someone sword fights him then two other people go from the left and right to get his treasure chest.” Mike said, drawing a simplistic map of pirates cove and icons of Freddy, Chica, himself and Bonnie.

“Where’s my microphone?” Freddy asked. “In the chest.” Mike responded, pointing to the drawing of the chest. “Can you draw it in?” Freddy asked. “Okay fine.” Mike half mumbled, drawing the microphone in the chest. “That part is shaded in.” Freddy pointed, Mike shaded it in. “Oh can you draw my whisk?” Chica asked, Mike drawing the whisk in response.

“I don’t have my top hat in that drawing.” Freddy pointed out, Mike sighed and drew the tophat. “I’m missing a whole body.” Chica pointed out next. “Okay, you get the point. I’m not an artist.” Mike said, grabbing the paper and crumpling it up into a paper ball then throwing it away. “Who’s fighting Foxy?” Mike asked, as everyone looked at him.

“I am not fighting Foxy.” Mike insisted. “I am flesh and blood and guts, you guys are metal and more metal.” Mike compared, he was a lot more fragile than the animatronics. “Well, I’m not doing it. You’re the one who wants your bag.” Chica argued. “But you guys won’t get hurt by swords? I will!” He tried to argue.

Mike waited a few seconds for one of them to offer instead, but nothing happened. “Okay fine! Fine. I’ll do it.” Mike agreed, reluctantly, picking up the sword. “Who’s going from the left and who’s going from the right?” Mike asked, looking at the sword and thinking back to the time he’d watch other kids fight each other with sticks in school, he was always too nervous to get involved, his best friend ended up being the computer in the IT classrooms he’d sneak into during break.

“I’ll go from the right.” Chica decided, looking at Freddy. “I just realised there was Pizza in the freezer, I’m back to having no reason to help.” Freddy explained, causing Mike to roll his eyes. “Okay, Bonnie?” Mike said, Bonnie scribbled down a response ‘I’ll go from the left’. “Thank you, Bonnie.” Mike said, as Chica and Foxy got up.

They walked over to the pirates cove area and Mike put the sword forward, like he’d saw in all the pirate movies. “W-What do I say? Like ‘I challenge you to a duel’ or something?” Mike asked, looking to Chica and Bonnie for an idea. “Uh, Foxy! Duel.” Mike half shouted to the stage on the other side of the area as Foxy opened up the purple curtains. “So you’ve come for your magical sack of items!” Foxy said, extravagantly. “Then come forth and fight!” He continued.

“Can we talk about how he thinks he’s a pirate?” Mike mumbled, as both Chica and Bonnie suddenly rushed forward from both sides and Mike followed. Chica was faster and so Foxy rushed towards her and slashed forward, hitting her slightly, she instantly ran back. “Sorry Mike, you’re on your own!” Chica said, running past him. 

Foxy ran towards Mike and attacked with the sword, Mike held his up and blocked. “Aha! So you’re an expert swordsman!” Foxy observed, taking another step with his peg leg as he tried to hit Mike and Mike, once again, blocked. “Yep! Totally! You should give up now!” Mike tried to reason, secretly panicking because this was extremely hard.

Foxy raised the sword and brought it down, Mike saw a moment and pulled his own sword down and hit Foxy in the pegleg, knocking him over as Foxy’s sword flew out his hand. Mike rushed towards the stage and jumped onto it, grabbing the chest and trying to open it. He realised it had a lock, as he saw it a shadow engulfed him and he looked behind to Foxy once again raising his sword up to strike Mike. Mike instinctively shut his eyes. 

The hit didn’t come, after a few seconds, Mike looked up to see Bonnie expertly fighting Foxy back with a pen. “If you can do that with a pen then why didn’t you use the sword!” Mike said, annoyed, but Bonnie ignored him as he continued to block and fight back against Foxy, it was at that point that Mike noticed a rusty silver key with a small skeleton keychain hanging from Foxy’s clothing. “The key!” Mike pointed, but realised he had no way to get it.

“Redemption!” Chica said, throwing her Cupcake out her hands and towards Foxy. He turned back to hit it but it avoided his sword and bit the key, ripping it and a bit of Foxy’s clothing off. It then ran on the floor towards Mike and dropped the key in front of him. “At least you didn’t bite my nose this time.” Mike said, picking up the key and putting it in the keyhole, turning it to unlock the chest.

He pulled the chest open and took out his bag. “Aha!” He exclaimed, as Foxy turned back. “Well, guess I lose.” Foxy shrugged, dropping the sword and taking off his pirate hat as his voice suddenly became casual. “What?! You were just trying to kill me!” Mike said, as Chica walked to the stage and took her whisk from the chest.

“No, it’s called LARPing. Live action role playing.” Foxy responded, like that was obvious. “You used an actual sword to roleplay ?” Mike asked, although he supposed it wasn’t the stupidest idea he’d ever saw an animatronic have (Case in point; Freddy). “Well obviously.” Foxy said, picking up the chest and dumping stuff out of it onto the floor.

“You could’ve killed me!” Mike continued, trying to contain his anger. “In roleplay form.” Foxy corrected. “I didn’t know it was a roleplay?” Mike said, as Foxy shut the chest. “Life is one big roleplay.” Foxy shrugged, putting the chest down. “What does that even mean!” Mike said, raising his voice. 

“Just accept I was completely justified in all my actions.” Foxy said, walking out of pirates cove. “I thought you didn’t leave this area?” Mike continued, holding his bag as he followed Foxy. “That was also part of the LARP, keep up.” Foxy said, going to sit with the others. “Doesn’t anyone else have a problem with this?” Mike asked.

“It was just a roleplay, Mike.” Chica said, seeming to agree with Foxy. “Okay, wow, everyone here is really forgiving.” Mike said, semi impressed. He decided to just ‘go with the flow’.

Calliope shifted through her stack of paperwork, the CEO had delegated a number of files of employees for her to go through that had reports filed against them and decide if they should be fired for the reports or not. “And the security animatronic?” She asked, barely looking up to Jamie.

“Currently in progress. Delivery imminent in two days or less.” Jamie responded, looking at an old poster for an old location, with a more bear-like Freddy Fazbear holding a phone with the words ‘Order now’ on the page. “Jamie.” Calliope said, once, but they were more focused on the poster to hear.

“Jamie.” She repeated, snapping them out their thoughts. “S-Sorry. I, uh, apologise.” Jamie said, apologetically. “I asked about the Night Guard. Any new information?” Calliope asked, the question Jamie was dreading. “You’ve been unfocused since you met up with Andrew, anything wrong?” Calliope asked, not in a caring way.

“Nothing. I’ve just,” Jamie hesitated briefly. “Learnt information about the Company I wasn’t privy to beforehand.” They finished, careful with their wording. “That’s Pandora’s box, Jamie. Information is two things; Power and danger. If you use it to control your actions, it’s power. If you let it control your actions, that’s danger. Don’t let it become danger.” She advised, still not looking up from her paperwork.

“You were top of your class, Jamie. I handpicked you because I thought you’d be more useful here then wherever you planned to go, it would be extremely irritating to have to find a good replacement for you.” Calliope said, somewhat threateningly. Jamie stared for a few seconds, before collecting themself. “The Night Guard has appeared to become aware of information regarding myself and yourself.” Jamie said, deciding to not look her straight in the eyes.

“Unsurprising. There is a Wikipedia page about me, afterall.” Calliope said, although the Wikipedia page was extremely inaccurate, the past CEO had allowed her to practically decide her own biography that allowed her to leave out a few important things such as her actual childhood. She placed a file about ‘Fritz Smith’, a Security Guard who’d tampered with animatronics and moving onto an ‘Axel Bennett’, a mechanic who’d punched a parent who they said was annoying them. “I mean, uh, he mentioned your… siblings.” Jamie eventually said, mumbling the last word quietly.

Calliope stopped reading the files and looked up, directly into Jamie’s eyes. “I’m, uh, I’m not entirely sure how he gained this information, but I’ll look into it and make sure it’s removed from the interne-” Jamie was interrupted. “Get out.” She ordered, not skipping a beat. “Pardon?” Jamie said, nervously. “Get. Out.” Calliope repeated, harshly, Jamie listened and opened the door then shut it.

Calliope stared where Jamie was once standing, breathing deeply, before she suddenly flung her hands across the table and threw the stack of paper, her lamp and closed laptop onto the floor. She slammed her hands onto the desk, then did it again. It took her a moment to collect herself, but she stood up and walked towards the door, opening it to where Jamie was standing in the hallway.

“Investigate how he discovered this information and expunge it. Make sure you keep an eye on the night guard, find out exactly what he knows.” Calliope ordered, as Jamie ignored the things on the floor in her office. Jamie nodded. “How do you expect me to do that?” Jamie asked, curiously.

“Figure it out, I believe you said you were ‘frankly smarter’ than me.” Calliope reminded, unnerving Jamie as Calliope had no feasible way to have heard that conversation between him and Andy. “I’ll figure it out.” Jamie agreed, as Calliope shut the doors to her office.

Chapter Text

Mike sat in the security office, on his phone. The tablet was sitting on the desk and seemed to be downloading some update, hence the cameras weren’t working. That should’ve been an issue but Mike was far too focused on this level of the mobile game he was playing. He’d only downloaded the game yesterday afternoon and was already on level 100. Despite that, he’d watched, off the top of his head, 200 ads. Mobile games were littered with them.

“Agh!” Mike exclaimed as he failed in the game, predictably, an ad began playing. He rolled his eyes and turned his phone off and placed it on the desk. He reached over to his bag and searched through it, less because he expected something interesting to be in there and more to pass the time.

He took out the homemade syringe. “I seriously need to do something with this.” He muttered, he had someone who was gonna help him sort it out, but he wasn’t really thinking far ahead. Even if he got a DNA match it was hardly like he could hunt down his attacker himself. He wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of strength. “Unless…” Mike said, outloud. “I had a robotic arm.” Mike said, like it was the best idea in the world.

“Or. Maybe not robotic. But like… an endoskeleton arm around my arm.” Mike said, imagining it. “Yep, nobody’s come up with that before.” Mike said, certain. He opened the notes app on his phone and wrote ‘Skeleton arm’. He paused, before adding ‘Flamethrower?’. He’d always wanted to do something with a flamethrower, maybe he could give one of the animatronics one?

Now that he thought about the animatronics, he realised he hadn’t heard anything from them for hours. Yesterday they; Attacked him and claimed it was roleplaying, set the stage curtains on fire, acted out the events of the first Hunger Games movie (How’d they even know about that?). And that was only the first hour.

Mike got up from his chair, grabbing and pocketing his phone and walking through the hallways, past the party rooms. “Guys!” Mike exclaimed, walking into an empty main party room, which was almost unnerving. “Uh guys?” Mike looked around, trying to see if he’d missed them the first time he looked.

“Is this a surprise birthday party?” Mike asked, which would’ve confused him since his birthday was earlier this month and how would they have known. He heard sounds coming from the kitchen and, like a horror movie protagonist would, walked towards the kitchen, opening the door gently. “Uh, what the heck?” Mike said, staring at Freddy, Foxy and Bonnie were all at separate counters in the kitchen making various types of food, Chica was walking around with an orange instant camera with red and blue markings and Freddy ears.

“Mike!” Chica said, walking over to Mike and grabbing him by the hand. “Welcome to my cooking show! You’re contestant 12.” Chica said, pulling him towards an empty kitchen counter with equipment set up. “Why am I the twelfth contestant out of three others?” Mike pointed out. “And you know that camera is for photos only, right?” He pointed out, Chica ignored both questions.

“The challenge is whoever can make the best cake! You better go quick, there’s only ten minutes left on the clock.” Chica warned, walking away from Mike to the other ‘contestants’. “I can do this, I guess? I’ve played Minecraft.” Mike reasoned, he’d never really baked or anything and his mum didn’t show him how to cook, which wasn’t entirely his fault; She’d tell him to put something in the microwave and come back in five minutes later and he’d have taken apart the microwave for the voltage capacitors.

“Let me think. Sugar, eggs, milk, butter.” Mike listed the things off the top of his head, finding a jar of milk, eggs and butter. He took a bowl and poured in milk, then cracked two eggs and put it in, then butter. He took a whisk and began stirring, really hoping he got the recipe right.

Mike watched Chica, still holding the camera as she began talking to Foxy. “And why do you want to win this challenge?” Chica asked, holding a microphone to Foxy as he cracked an egg and poured the yolk onto a slab of butter on a plate. Which gave Mike hope he would win the competition because realistically how could you do worse than that.

“Well… My mother is very sick, and ever since I was young I’ve always wanted to win a baking competition. Winning this would give me the money I needed to afford her medicine…” Foxy said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “What? That’s not true?” Mike pointed out. “Shush Mike, the only way to win baking shows is a sob story.“ Foxy said back, turning his attention to Chica. “And what type of cake are you making?” Chica asked Foxy.

“A Pirate ship cake!” Foxy responded, reaching for a model of a pirate ship made out of dough and decorated with icing which was actually impressive. Mike ignored it and looked back to the bowl he was stirring. He took out a cake wrapper and poured the stuff from the bowl into the cake wrapper, then placed it into the oven and set the temperature to high for five minutes.

“Psst, Mike.” Foxy whispered, from the counter as Chica walked away. “Take this.” Foxy said, reaching into his pockets and taking out an ingredient list for cake. “Why are you helping me?” Mike whispered back, although it was more like a shout in a whispery tone. “Don't question it!” Foxy whisper-shouted back, holding the ingredients list towards Mike.

“Fine!” Mike said back, snatching the list. “Chica! Mike has a cheat list!” Foxy shouted, pointing to Mike, Mike realised Foxy was trying to frame him for cheating and impulsively did the only thing he could think of to hide the list; Eating it. He scrunched it into a paper ball and swallowed it.

“Are you cheating Mike?” Chica asked, suspiciously, pushing the camera right up to him. “What? I’d never.” Mike said, unconvincingly, ignoring the bland taste of the paper. “Hmmm.” Chica said, as Mike felt the camera touch the tip of his nose, like she was inspecting him. As Chica continued to do this, Mike noticed his oven was overheating. “Uh Chica, can I-” Mike was interrupted by Chica pushing the camera further towards him and almost knocking him over.

“My cake is burning.” Mike pointed out, pointing to the oven. “Okay, fine. I don’t think you’d cheat.” Chica said, pulling the camera away as Mike rushed to open the oven and take out the ‘cake’. “Three minutes left!” Chica exclaimed, holding up a small black timer counting down. “Okay, wow, this looks horrible.” Mike said, it was basically a hardened square of butter with yolk on it. “Oh! Flour.” Mike said, opening the fridge and taking a bag of flour.

“It’s really lucky animatronics don’t have taste buds, I hope.” Mike said, sprinkling flour onto the top of the cake. Mike looked towards Chica, who was now interviewing Freddy. “Psst, Mike.” Foxy whispered. “I’m not taking anything from you again, Foxy!” Mike whispered back, as he placed the flour down to put icing on his cake.

“I’m just telling you your oven is on fire.” Foxy whispered, pointing to the oven with his hook hand. “Yeah, likely story.” Mike said, rolling his eyes. “No, seriously.” Foxy continued, no longer whispering. “I’m not falling for it, let me decorate my cake.” Mike said, not looking towards the oven.

“Your loss.” Foxy said, shrugging, as he poured the butter with two eggs on into his dough pirate ship. “So Mike, how do you feel about your winning chances?” Chica asked, putting the microphone up to Mike’s face. “I’ve only saw Foxy’s cake so I’m pretty uncertain.” Mike said, trying his best to work despite the microphone being so close to him.

“And what about your oven on fire?” Chica asked, casually. “Well it’s pretty easily ignor-” Mike paused midway through his sentence. “Hold on, what.” He said, looking towards his oven which was, as Foxy had told him, on fire. “Told you.” Foxy said, as Mike rushed to grab the fire extinguisher from the other side of the room and spraying the fire coming out of the oven.

“One minute left!” Chica announced, stressing Mike out as he put the fire extinguisher down. “Okay, uh, think.” Mike said, looking at his almost definitely poisonous cake. He looked at Foxy’s actually impressive pirate ship cake, then at Freddy’s… Okay Freddy had eaten his cake, which was expected, and Bonnie’s cake was still in the oven. So clearly his only opponent was Foxy.

Mike thought for a moment then got an idea, if Foxy was gonna play dirty then so was he. “Psst, Freddy.” Mike whispered to Freddy, he did it a few more times before Freddy turned to him. “Yeah?” Freddy whispered back, although neither of them were really whispering from other sides of the room, Chica was too focused interviewing Bonnie to notice.

“Help me distract Foxy.” Mike whispered back. “Why?” Freddy asked. “Uh,” Mike thought for a second. “I’m the only one who can order food?” Mike reasoned, shrugging slightly. “Good enough for me.” Freddy said, looking and whispering to Foxy, who turned around and stopped putting the icing on his pirate ship themed cake. 

Mike reached over and picked up the pirate ship cake, then placed his own ‘cake’ where Foxy’s cake used to be, successfully switching their cakes. “Time up!” Chica announced, making everyone stop everything they were doing. “Freddy, first, your cake.” Chica said, putting the camera up as she walked up to Freddy.

Freddy unhinged his jaw, put his hand in and bought out the cake, surprisingly intact, placing it in front of Chica. “Here it is.” Freddy said, proudly. “That’s actually good…” Mike mumbled, as Chica inspected the cake. “I’m not eating that, but I judge it three out of five.” Chica said, walking to Foxy.

“Foxy, your cake.” Chica said. “Heh, well, Chica. Let’s just say I went all ou-” Foxy turned around to see what was barely even a cake where his cake should’ve been. “What!” He almost shouted, looking around. “Foxy I’m gonna have to rate you a one out of five.” Chica judged, sounding disappointed.

“That isn’t my cake!” Foxy insisted, but Chica ignored her and walked up to Mike. “Wow, Mike, that is an amazing cake.” Chica said, putting the camera towards it as Foxy recognised it. “What? Chica, that’s my cake!” Foxy pointed out. “It’s pirate ship shaped! It’s- I’m a pirate! It’s- Pirate! Me, it, pirate! You saw me make the cake!” Foxy said, pointing at himself and the cake rapidly every time he said ‘pirate’.

“I’ve heard that before Foxy. Four out of five, Mike.” Chica said, moving on to Bonnie. “Okay, your turn Bonnie.” Chica said. Mike suddenly got a notification on his phone, he looked down at it and made an excuse to go outside. He quickly went to the security office and took out the syringe, then walked to the entrance doors and unlocked them with the keys.

He tried to push open the doors and walked straight into them. Realising he hadn’t actually locked the doors earlier and just locked them. He unlocked the doors, for real this time, and walked out. A figure was standing outside, everything screamed private detective about them, they had the beige trenchcoat and hat, their face covered in shadows.

“Here you go.” Mike said, holding out the syringe as the figure took it. “You know you really look like a private detective. I mean I know you are one, but like walking stereotype.” Mike said, looking them up and down as the figure pocketed the syringe. “Okay so you’ll place that in with other DNA samples and see if there’s any matches with DNA registries belonging to the company?” Mike checked.

The figure nodded. “Okay, I’ll send you the money.” Mike said, as the figure walked off. “I’ve given that guy almost a thousand.” Mike mumbled, he was a good investigator considering the information he found on Calliope, but still. Mike went back into the pizza place and entered the kitchen. 

“Bonnie wins!” Chica said, holding up Bonnie’s hand as a multi-layered cake was next to Bonnie. “How did you make that?” Mike asked. Bonnie scribbled down a response on his notebook and held it up - ‘Get good’.

Mike knocked on the doors to his house, he waited a few seconds for an answer. But nothing came, he sighed and reached into his pockets for his keys, slotting them into the keyhole and unlocking them (After a few failed attempts). “Mum, you up?” Mike quietly shouted, shutting the door behind him and pocketing his keys.

He wandered into the living room to see Claire asleep on the couch. Well that explained it, she had kept awake the past few days to see him when he came home at six am. He put his keys on the key hook on the wall and passed by his mum, he paused when he noticed something in her hand.

“What is that?” He mumbled, peering down and slowly inching it out of her hand while she slept. It looked like a crumpled newspaper, his mum hated newspapers last she checked, the only part she was remotely interested in was the crosswords, but as he uncrumpled the paper the crossword was unfinished. 

He checked the heading. “Investigative Journalist Brownen Light found dead.” Mike almost gasped, one of his mum’s friends, she had gone missing around last week. He had only met her a handful of times himself, but she seemed nice. He noticed his mum stirring from her sleep and decided to make his way upstairs.

He walked up the staircase and went into his room, locking the door behind him as he continued to read the newspaper. “52 year-old Investigative Journalist Brownen Light found dead after being missing for a week. Cause of death is yet unidentified but murder is believed. Police have refused to comment on this matter.” Mike read.

“This comes after a series of missing disappearances across the city that many attribute to a yet unidentified serial killer, although police refuse to believe in this.” Mike hadn’t heard anything about that, but now that he thought about it, it made more sense. His mum did seem to be more paranoid about locking the door and going outside over the past few weeks. Maybe even the person who attacked him was a serial killer, they did try to inject him, maybe that’s what they had done to all the other missing people, he put those thoughts to the side for now and kept reading.

“Witnesses who found the body commented it was ‘withered’, like a body that had been decaying for months.” Mike raised an eyebrow, that wasn’t possible, Mike had seen her last Tuesday before getting a job, it was impossible for her body to have decomposed that bad, he barely knew anything about body decomposition (It would be weird if he did, not like he’d have to live through it) but even he knew that.

He skimmed ahead, to the near end of the story. “According to a close friend who refused to have their identity disclosed, Brownen was investigating Fazbear Entertainment and the previously aforementioned serial killer, suggesting a connection between the two (Although this is unconfirmed).” Mike read, he paused.

“Fazbear Entertainment?” He asked, with the final paragraph being a quote from a Fazbear Entertainment representative about the ludicrousy of the idea. Mike placed the newspaper in the hidden compartment in his desk. He remembered something, once when his mum and Brownen were talking she had mentioned about keeping copies of all her investigative notes in a secret compartment in her desk (It was how Mike got the idea for his own, actually).

He could finish where she left off, she must’ve been way further ahead in her own notes about Fazbear Entertainment considering her whole job was investigating. The only issue would be actually getting into her house, he remembered the address. He quickly took out a pen and wrote her address on a piece of paper for memory; He could go there in a few days to find the notes. 

Chapter Text

“Foxy, do you have any nines?” Freddy asked, holding his cards. He just needed one more nine to have all four cards and win. “Uhh, go fish.” Foxy said, searching through his nines. “Dammit!” Freddy exclaimed, reaching for the pile of cards in the middle and taking one which wasn’t what he wanted.

“Freddy, do you have any nines?” Chica asked, smirking. “Ahh!” Freddy pouted, giving Chica the card. “I win!” Chica said, slamming the card down and putting her hands in the air. “How have you won every time?” Foxy asked, pulling the cards off his hook and putting them onto the table. “Chica, you’re not in the game anymore!” Foxy decided, turning to Mike. “Mike! Come take Chica’s place!” Foxy said, as Chica got up from the chair.

“Hold on.” Mike said, sweeping up the stuff on the floor with his brush and putting them on the dusting pan, then walking over to the bin and pouring it in. He took out the notepad with chores on them and crossed ‘cleaning up’ off. “Okay, I think that’s everything.” Mike said, putting the notepad in his breast pocket.

As he walked over, there was a knock on the door. “I’ll get it!” Chica said, before Mike rushed in front of her and stopped her. “No no no, I can get it. One of us is human, after all.” Mike protested, as Chica stopped walking towards the door. Mike walked towards the door, he took out the keys and went to put them into the lock before remembering he didn’t even lock the door, he put the keys back in his pocket and opened the door.

“Hey.” Jamie said, holding a piece of paper with a tall wide cardboard box next to them marked ‘FRAGILE’ in big red text. “Uh, what’s this?” Mike said, walking closer to the box. “It’s a new animatronic. For security.” Jamie said, passing the piece of paper to Mike. “Those are the list of risks.” Jamie said, as Mike unfolded the piece of paper again and again and again and again.

“Wow this is… a lot.” Mike said, trying to squint to read the tiny text, the only words he could make out were ‘Security Puppet’. “I can’t read this.” Mike complained, causing Jamie to shrug. “Your fault.” They responded. “The animatronic is for security and will come out during your shifts” Jamie explained. “Wait, so why do you need me?” Mike pointed out, his whole job was meant to be security, after all.

“We can’t replace everyone with animatronics.” Jamie responded, before pausing. “Well. Not yet.” They added. “Fazbear Entertainment takes no liabilities of damage to person or personal property, or even our property, it’s still your fault somehow.” Jamie said, like they’d said something along those lines multiple times before. Mike opened his mouth to rebuttal, but it would probably be pointless.

“Why are we even getting this?” Mike asked, confused why Fazbear Entertainment had randomly decided to throw a security animatronic into the pizza place. “Uh,” Jamie briefly paused. “Lawsuit.” They said, like it was a decision they’d made up on the spot in response to Mike, but Mike knew better than to question it.

“How do I get this thing in?” Mike asked, changing the topic. It wasn’t like there was one of those things that could wheel boxes in. “It’s surprisingly light. You’ll manage.” Jamie assured, turning around and walking off. “Uhh, okay, I should just-” Mike paced around the box a few times, inspecting it. He went to the back of it, marked ‘FRAGILE’ like every other side.

He pushed on it from behind and it quickly fell flat onto the floor, making a loud bang echo on the pathway. Mike stood in silence for a few seconds, looking around to make sure Jamie had walked off. “Nobody saw that…” Mike whispered to himself, as he continued to push the box, now on its side, through the doors.

“Mike, are you sure you don’t want help with that?” Freddy asked, watching as Mike pushed the box through the main room in between two sets of the long tables. “No I can-” Mike struggled pushing between his sentences. “-do it!” He continued, pushing it one more time before huffing from exhaustion.

Mike reached into his pocket and took out his switchblade, he moved to the front of the box and sliced through the cellotape, pulling open the sides of the box to reveal… a second box. This one was much smaller, light blue with a thick purple line on each side, and a purple bow on the lid.

Mike fairly easily pulled the box out of the cardboard box and planted it the right way up on the ground, propping it next to the prize corner. “That was so much easier to pull, I could’ve just done that the whole time? Why was that box even so hard to pull?” Mike said, mainly to himself, as the animatronics walked up to look at the box.

“It looks like a music box.” Freddy observed, checking the side for a winding key (But not finding any). “Maybe it’s gonna replace us as a band and take over the pizzeria.” Foxy worried. “It’s a security animatronic, guys. It won’t replace you all. Only me.” Mike reassured, as Foxy stepped closer to the box.

“So, how do we open this?” Foxy asked. “Well it’s like,” Mike paused and looked down, checking the time on his phone briefly. “Two hours into my shift, so it should come out any second now.” Mike finished, everyone stared at the box waiting for a few seconds. Waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

“Are you pulling a prank?” Chica asked. “No, why- What would even be the point of this prank?” Mike pointed out, looking between Chica and the box. “Well, I’m bored of waiting.” Foxy decided, walking off, with Bonnie agreeing and following. “Okay, I guess it’s just you, me and Chica waitin…” Mike said to Freddy, trailed off as Chica walked off.

“I guess it’s just you and me waiting.” Mike corrected, sitting in front of the box with his legs crossed, Freddy sitting similarly. “Sitting like this is uncomfortable.” Freddy said, moving around to try to get a better pose. “We had to sit like this all the time in school.” Mike recalled. “I didn’t go to school.” Freddy responded.

“Oh yeah.” Mike half mumbled, watching as Freddy tried increasingly different ways to sit down, each providing him with no comfort.

“So then you cut down the tree with the axe instead.” Mike said, watching as Freddy tapped away on Mike’s phone. “But I can just use my hands to cut down the tree?” Freddy pointed out. “The axe is faster because it’s a tool, like the pickaxe.” Mike explained. “Ooh.” Freddy nodded, cutting blocks of wood with the axe.

“So how do you win this game?” Freddy asked, collecting the wood. “You beat the dragon.” Mike explained. “Oh, it’s becoming night, you should make shelter.” He interrupted as Freddy was about to speak. “Just turn the logs into planks and then build a house, or dig into the side of a mountain, or underground.” Mike listed. 

Coincidentally, Mike looked up to the box as the lid began opening. “Freddy, freddy, freddy-” Mike said, tapping Freddy multiple times to get his attention. “Shhh Mike I’m making a house.” Freddy said, continuing to use Mike’s phone, Mike snatched it away and paused the game. “The box is opening!” He pointed out, gesturing to the box.

“Guys, the box is opening!” Freddy exclaimed, as Chica, Foxy and Bonnie looked over from their positions in the room. The box fully opened and an animatronic extended out of it. Unlike any model any of them were familiar with. It was thin and tall, easily the tallest of the animatronics, it appeared to have some sort of faux security guard uniform on, similar to Mike’s, a short sleeved button up purple shirt but with a few black stripes covering it and its white arms. 

It had a black belt with various compartments, and what looked to be a taser and baton respectively. The top of its head had a sort of hat, almost like a jester hat, protruding from the top. It was black, blending in with the skin, and had a golden bell at the top. But what drew Mike’s attention, mainly, was its face. It was some sort of porcelaine mask with two eyeholes and a hole somewhat resembling a smile, gaping in perpetual laughter, next to it were red cheeks on either side, and - Creepiest of all - blue streaks coming out of the eyes that looked almost like tears. There appeared to be a horizontal split at the centre of the mask. The whole animatronic was unnerving. 

“If I was a robber and saw that thing I’d run away too.” Foxy whispered to Bonnie, who was sitting next to him. “Freddy, go talk to it.” Mike said to Freddy, who was similarly frozen up in unease. “What? No? You go talk to it, night guard to night guard.” Freddy argued back, neither of them taking their eyes off the animatronic.

“Animatronic to animatronic.” Mike argued. “Well- Uh-” Freddy stuttered. “We don’t claim that thing.” Freddy decided, folding his arms, Mike stepped back and pushed Freddy forward, as Freddy tried to catch his balance, doing so almost right in front of the animatronic. “Uh, hi.” Freddy gulped, doing a small wave as he looked up into the animatronic’s dead eyes.

“My name’s Freddy. What’s yours?” Freddy asked, trying to sound unintimidated. The animatronic looked down at him, staring back for a few seconds. Before suddenly, turning away to the side and walking away. “...Rude.” Freddy said, as the animatronic looked at the prizes in the prize corner, plushies and action figures of various animatronics, food and drinks.

“Maybe it isn’t alive like us?” Bonnie theorised, writing it down and showing it on his notepad. “Or it just doesn’t like Freddy. Let me try.” Foxy added, walking up to the animatronic. “Hey there, no hard feelings for ignoring Freddy, I would do the same.” Foxy began, being briefly interrupted by Freddy’s annoyed exclamation which he ignored. “My name’s Foxy.” Foxy said, extending his arm with his hook as a handshake.

The animatronic didn’t even bat an eyesocket, moving on from the prize counter and walking past Foxy towards the stage. “Haha.” Freddy teased. “Uh, guys.” Chica said. “I didn’t see you do any better, Freddy.” Foxy said, sulkily. “Guys.” Chica repeated. “Well it looked at me, it didn’t even look at you.” Freddy argued, both ignoring Chica.

“Guys!” Chica exclaimed, getting everyone’s attention. “Look.” She said, pointing at the animatronic’s feet. They were hovering slightly off the ground. “Oh, great, so it’s a ghost. We let a ghost in, good job Mike.” Foxy said, blaming Mike. “Hey! Don’t blame me, blame Fazbear Entertainment, or Afton Robotics or whoever made this thing!” Mike stated, proclaiming his innocence.

“I thought it was an animatronic.” Freddy said, confused. Bonnie quickly scribbled down ‘Animatronic-Ghost hybrid’. “That’s not possible, Bonnie.” Foxy said. “You guys being alive shouldn’t be possible but here we are.” Mike pointed out. “Maybe if we get its attention, we can get it to leave.” Freddy theorised, by now all of the animatronics, and Mike, were in a circle discussing.

“You guys come up with a way to get its attention, I’ll call Fazbear Entertainment and,” Mike paused. “Ask them about Animatronic-Ghost hybrids? I guess?” Mike said, confused about his own words. They nodded as Mike turned back and took out the piece of paper Jamie had given him earlier, he found a number at the bottom and called it on his phone.

“Hello, this is Afton Robotics Animatronic Help Centre.” A voice spoke on the other end. “Uh, hello? My animatronic is… floating.” Mike said, trying his best to not sound like a prank call. The voice didn’t say anything for a few seconds, before hanging up. “Okay, well I don’t know what I expected.” Mike half mumbled, before getting an idea.

He went onto a private folder of files on his phone, and found a file marked ‘JMO-Info.rar’, using a decryption key, he unlocked the file and translated it to text format. It was sent to him from the detective and had all sorts of information about Jamie. “Jamie Murphy O’Conner, born Sheffield, August 29th 19-” Mike continued reading through the file.

“Aha!” Mike said, out loud. “Personal phone number.” He read, copying it and typing it into his phone. He let it ring for a few minutes before it was picked up. “Hello?” Jamie’s voice on the other end said, blankly. “Hey Jamie.” Mike said, trying his best to sound casual. The voice went silent, Mike was expecting a hang up.

“How did you get this number?” Jamie asked, sounding slightly off-put. “I’ll get back to you about that in three to five business days. Quick question, is the animatronic meant to be floating?” Mike asked, staying offtopic from ‘how did you get this number’. “The, Uh, Security Puppet, yes, of course.” Jamie said, sounding not certain.

“You don’t sound very confident.” Mike observed. “I don’t know much about that model. It’s, uh, unique. A sort of experimental design, and it’s been renovated a few times.” Jamie explained, cryptically. “Well, do you have blueprints for it? Can you get in contact with whoever made it?” Mike asked. 

“Do you have a Ouija board?” Jamie asked, not missing a beat. “The maker’s dead?” Mike asked, surprised. The animatronic didn’t look nearly that old, but it must’ve been renovated. “Give or take.” Jamie responded, causing Mike’s eyebrows to shift. “Yeah. Dead.” Jamie quickly corrected.

“What about the guy who renovated it?” Mike asked. “He said he doesn’t even fully understand the technology. Like I said, it’s unique.” Jamie repeated. “Fine.” Mike responded, going to hang up. “Oh, and delete my number.” Jamie added, Mike didn’t grace them with a response and hung up.

“How are you guys doing?” Mike asked, turning to the animatronics. “We’ve got a plan!” Foxy announced, confidently. “Bonnie’s gonna fight it and threaten it till it talks.” Foxy said, pointing to Bonnie who was holding the sword from a few days ago. “Can’t ghosts like phase through things?” Mike pointed out.

“Animatronic ghost hybrid, Mike.” Freddy reminded. “Well, I guess we can try.” Mike reasoned, watching as Bonnie walked up to the Security Puppet, who was inspecting the stage curtains, and pointed the sword at it. The Security Puppet turned to Bonnie and reached out its freakishly long arm.

The hand separated into two, along with part of the arm at the front, and separated. A thin silver cylinder emerged and, suddenly, shot fire straight at Bonnie. Bonnie quickly threw the sword forward in response and rushed away, the Security Puppet continued to point at the sword, setting it on fire for a few seconds, before the cylinder reached back into itself and the hand reconnected together.

“It has a FLAMETHROWER?” Mike exclaimed, mentally scratching ‘flamethrower’ off his list of ideas. Whoever made this animatronic and him were clearly on the same wavelength of ideas, Mike was just a little behind. Bonnie rushed past them and to the other side of the room. 

“It wasn’t that scary, Bonnie.” Foxy said, half lying to himself as the Security Puppet wandered past and into the hallway leading to various smaller party rooms. “What if we…” Freddy thought for a second. “Turn the lights off in the room it’s in? Then attack it.” Freddy said, Mike was going to say that was a stupid idea but didn’t really have any other ideas.

Mike walked through the hallway to the security office and grabbed the security tablet as the Security Puppet entered one of the small party rooms, which was adorned with a green colour scheme. “Isn’t that only for cameras?” Freddy asked. “Well, I was thinking,” Mike reached into his pocket and took out a small screwdriver.

“This thing is connected to the master operations node or something,” Mike, through the brief intervals of speaking, unscrewed the screws on the back of the tablet and opened it up. Various wires and circuitry visible which Mike inspected. “And that can control all the technology in this place.” He continued, messing with some of the technology.

“Then the tablet must have a two way connection to the node. It’s probably got an incredibly advanced security system so I won’t be fully able to fully access all the node capabilities.” The screen of the tablet switched to a programming terminal, with various commands written in green text.

“But with a bit of work.” Mike continued, typing using the on screen keyboard, a few firewall popups appeared on the screen but Mike managed to make them disappear. “Okay, maybe, a lot of work.” Mike continued, focusing more intensely as he continued to type. “And…” Mike typed a command, sending it.

The screen turned off, going black. Before turning back on. “Yes! Done.” Mike said, proudly. He typed a command and the lights in the green party room turned off, everything went completely black. “I know, impressive.” Mike said. They looked into the darkness of the room before the lines on the Security Puppet began to glow in the dark, between the green lightning from the stripes and the dark silhouette it actually resembled a ghost.

“Woah…” Foxy oohed. “Go hit it!” Mike whispered, like it could hear them. “What? Me?” Foxy asked. “Yes, you! You have a hook for a hand!” Mike said, pointing to Foxy’s hook. “I- Fine!” Foxy huffed, walking in as the darkness consumed in. “Bet you ten that he won’t come back out.” Freddy said, to Chica.

“You’re on.” Chica responded. “You guys don’t even have money.” Mike said, but both ignored him. After a few seconds of silence from the room, the Security Puppet floated close to them and passed by. “Yep, it ate Foxy. Do you see that smile?” Freddy theorised. “Hold on, I’ll get the lights back on.” Mike said, tapping the screen of the security tablet, after a few seconds the lights turned back on.

Foxy was on the floor with his claw ripped off from his arm. “Foxy!” Mike, and Freddy, exclaimed, all of them rushing to Foxy. “It didn’t go very well guys.” Foxy said, as Mike picked up his claw. “Hold on, this is an easy retattach.” Mike reassured, putting the claw close to where it was, and connecting a few wires and using his small screwdriver. After a second, it slotted back in place and connected.

“There! Good as new.” Mike said, pocketing his small screwdriver, as Foxy looked at his hook and moved it around a few times. “I feel like a new fox!” Foxy said, confidently. “But I’m not attacking that thing ever again.” Foxy added, defensively. “Yeah, Mike, I’m thinking maybe we just let it do its thing. It’s not hurting anymore.” Freddy said, being interrupted in his last sentence by Foxy’s obviously fake cough.

“Correction, it’s not hurting anyone unless provoked.” Freddy corrected, earning a ‘Thank you’ from Foxy. “I agree with Freddy.” Chica said, nodding. Mike hesitated, checking the screen and noticing the Security Puppet was now inside another party room. Weirdly enough, it already had an icon on the screen like the other animatronics. It was its mask, maybe the node just updated fast.

Mike knew he probably should just let it go, like Freddy said it wasn’t hurting anyone unless provoked. But he just couldn’t, he was too stubborn. He wasn’t going to give up on this.

“Okay, fine, but I have one more idea.” Mike said, beckoning everyone to follow him into the security office, he looked through his bag and took out his pipe wrench and a small circular disc. “I made this thing and my house. It’s able to confuse and access any programming system, if I touch the Security Puppet it should make it glitch out and then I can wack it, and download all its database to my phone.” Mike explained, confidently.

“One question.” Freddy said, putting his hand up. “Why do you have that?” Freddy asked, pointing to the disc. “In case any of you guys try to attack me, like Chica that one time!” Mike explained, knowing Freddy would remember that time. “I guess that’s fair…” Freddy said, somewhat suspiciously.

“Come on, follow me!” Mike said, going towards the small party room the Security Puppet was in. This one was decorated with a red and green colour scheme. “Hey, Freddy, this is the same party room where you helped me with a chore? The day we met.” Mike recalled, it had almost been a week since then.

Mike peered into the room, as the Security Puppet seemingly inspected one of the tables. “Three, two, one, go!” Mike mumbled to himself, rushing in and managing to tap the animatronic with the disc on its back torso. The disc attached in place as the animatronic turned around. Mike’s phone, in his pocket, pinged.

He checked it, a copy of the data from the Security Puppet had downloaded into his phone, like the disc was meant to do. “This… isn’t right.” Mike said, quietly. “Mike! Hit it!” Freddy said, from a few steps behind Mike. “These make no sense, the endoskeleton looks nothing like it’s meant to, there’s barely any wires. This isn’t anything like you guys, it shouldn’t even be functioning.” Mike said, looking as data continued to download, at this point he was convinced it really was an animatronic-ghost hybrid, there was literally no other way it could be functioning. The endoskeleton shouldn’t have allowed for such fluid movements.

“Mike!” Chica said, trying to get him to hit it. “This isn’t just advanced technology, it’s completely unfamiliar. Its database isn’t even connected to the node, it’s not connected to anything. It’s basically without a brain, maybe that’s why it isn’t talking?” Mike theorised, as all three animatronics behind him exclaimed his name.

“Huh?” Mike said, turning around. “Hit it!” They all exclaimed, pointing to his pipewrench. “Oh! Right!” Mike said, pocketing his phone and putting his pipewrench in the air. He brought it down on the Security Puppet, ready to hit it. But as it was about to impact, it stopped.

“What are you doing? Hit it!” Foxy said, as Mike continued trying to push down. “I’m- Trying!” Mike said, it was like an invisible barrier was stopping him from hitting it, keeping his pipewrench in place. Suddenly, his pipewrench exploded into pieces, pieces of it flew all over, slamming into the wall and floor and a few pieces hitting Mike himself.

“Actual paranormal activity!” Foxy exclaimed, rushing out the room. “Uh,” Mike opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He had no explanation for what just happened. “My pipewrench…” He managed to mumble, looking up at the Security Puppet and expecting it to retaliate. But it didn’t.

At first it did nothing, staring down at him. Mike’s phone got a notification but he ignored it, petrified in fear. The Security Puppet floated past him, towards Freddy. “Mike! I can’t move!” Freddy exclaimed, suddenly, the Security Puppet went straight up to him. “What? What do you mean?” Mike said, rushing towards Freddy and trying to grab his hand and pull him, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I mean I literally can’t move!” Freddy responded, looking around frantically. “I’m trying to pull you!” Mike responded back, he pulled Freddy so hard he slipped and fell back, but Freddy stayed squarely in place. Eventually looking up at the Security Puppet. “It must be keeping you in place!” Mike exclaimed, scrambling back to his feet.

The Security Puppet’s hands reached up, and Mike couldn’t tell if it was his eyes playing tricks on him but it almost seemed like the tears on its mask looked liquid, like actual tears. The Security Puppet reached forward and tapped Freddy on the head, suddenly, he began convulsing in place. Falling to the ground.

“Freddy!” Mike rushed to Freddy, at the same time so did Chica. Foxy ran back into the room and, despite his fear, separated the Security Puppet and Freddy by running in between them both, the Security Puppet’s hand fell back down, limply beside it. “Freddy, Freddy! Are you okay?” Mike asked.

Freddy’s eyes glowed bright white, engulfing his pupils as his whole eye sockets glowed so bright Mike couldn’t look directly in them. “Freddy? Can you hear me? Freddy!” Mike continued trying to get Freddy’s attention, as Freddy continued to convulse slightly.

Gabriel ran up the stairs to the boat, walking onto the path. “Gabriel! Slow down!” His mother said, her voice slightly raised, walking up the stairs behind him as Gabriel waited at the top. “Sorry, mom!” Gabriel apologised, clearly disliking standing in place for so long. “It’s fine, you can run ahead. Just make sure you’re in view.” His mother explained, causing Gabriel to nod and rush towards the stairs to the Pizzeria part of the ship, Gabriel found her saying that weird, she was too busy inspecting one of her new jewellery pieces to even look at him, but he did what he was told either way.

“You sure it’s a good idea letting him run like that? Have you heard how many children have gone missing?” Gabriel’s mother pointed out, although Gabriel had long since ran out of earshot. “Oh, please. This place is crowded, there’s no way someone can scoop him up.” She reassured her husband.

Gabriel’s father found it better not to argue, at least not right now, in a public place. “Have you heard about the riots in Los Angeles? People are being attacked, they’ve blocked the Florence intersection.” Gabriel’s father said, trying to change the topic to something a lot further than them, rather than focusing on the number of kids who had gone missing a lot closer to them than he liked to think of.

Gabriel stood at the spiral stairs, people walking past, he impatiently stood there for his parents to get there. As he waited, a black-haired man walked up the stairs. He noticed Gabriel. “You okay, kid?” The man asked, bending down and looking Gabriel in the eyes. He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his cheeks. And his purple eyes didn’t look bright.

“Mhm! I’m waiting for my parents to get here. It’s my birthday!” Gabriel responded, innocently, pointing to his two parents walking along the path. The man’s smile faltered as he looked back, and he stood back up. “Ah, of course. You have fun in there. I’ve heard they’re getting out an old animatronic, maybe he’ll know it’s your birthday!” The man said, his voice slightly offbeat.

“Ooh.” Gabriel gasped, as the man walked away, mumbling something to himself that Gabriel couldn’t quite make out as his parents reached him and began descending down the stairs. As Gabriel was ready to run down, his father grabbed him lightly. “Make sure you’re okay, don’t follow any stranger anywhere, alright?” His father told him.

“Okay dad!” Gabriel nodded, he knew not to follow strangers around, stranger danger, after all. “You treat me like I’m a kid! I’m a big boy now! I’m thirteen! I can protect myself.” Gabriel pouted, causing his father to laugh. “You can’t protect yourself from everything, not yet at least. When you’re as big and strong as Freddy, then I’ll be a little less overprotective.” His father said.

“Like Freddy…” Gabriel muttered, looking down at his white shirt with a picture of Freddy on it.  

Chapter Text

Mike and Foxy propped Freddy onto the chair with some struggle, he was still convulsing but had calmed down slightly, he didn’t seem to be fully aware. “What did that thing do to him?” Foxy asked, turning back as the Security Puppet stared, silently. “I don’t know… I’m trying to stabilise his systems now.” Mike said, tapping two buttons on the side of Freddy’s head then bopping his nose, the front of the face came off.

Mike inspected the endoskeleton, pausing after a second. “That’s… weird.” Mike said, confused. “What?” Foxy said, turning to him. “He’s already in emergency deactivation mode. Whatever’s happening isn’t his system, it’s like he’s being jerked around.” Mike explained. “Well, get it to stop!” Foxy said, still partly holding Freddy down.

“I’ll reactivate his system, maybe it’ll pacify whatever’s happening.” Mike said, reaching to right above the endoskeleton’s eye and tapping a small button, the eyes went black for a few seconds. Before reactivating, Freddy blinked rapidly as he stopped convulsing. “Freddy? You okay?” Mike asked, looking up at Freddy expectantly.

“I…” Freddy’s voice cracked. “I had parents.” He half whispered, almost in awe at his own memories.

“This place looks even cooler than last time we were here.” Gabriel mumbled, looking at the place in awe. It had obviously seen redecorations, a whole upheaval. Its colour scheme was now red and green. In fact, the walls were completely red. There were tables and chairs near the front of the room, in front of the stage, but none nearer the back where he had entered.

But Gabriel was more focused on the animatronics than the layout of the room, he ran ahead of his parents, earning a sigh from his father, and up to the small stage opposite the prize counter. The animatronic on the stage was new, replacing the Foxy animatronic, was similarly designed, it was a fox animatronic, coloured white with orange highlights in its ears and snout and on its stomach. It also had purple cheeks, freckles and a bowtie. 

“Don’t you think that one’s a little creepy?” Gabriel’s father asked, from behind him. Gabriel turned around, his father was standing next to him and his mother had walked past, either to sit down at one of the tables or because she hadn’t noticed everyone else had stopped here. “No, I think it looks cool!” Gabriel argued.

“Whatever you say, kid.” Gabriel’s father responded, laughing slightly, ruffling Gabriel’s brown hair. He looked down at Gabriel’s outfit, which he had specifically chosen to have him stand out in the crowd of children, but it didn’t work very well when practically every other kid was also wearing white, even if Gabriel’s orange stripes were unique.

“Here, come on!” Gabriel’s father said, leading him to the prize counter. “Hey, can I have that top hat?” Gabriel’s father asked, pointing to a white top hat on one of the shelves. “It costs one hundred tickets.” The attendant responded, even Gabriel, who was young, could tell she obviously didn’t care about her job. “I’ll give you a tenner.” Gabriel’s father said, taking out a tenner.

“Yeah, sure man, that works.” The attendant half muttered, reaching and taking the tenner, pocketing it and passing the top hat to Gabriel’s father. “Here, keep this on. That way I can always see you.” Gabriel’s father said, turning to him and placing the top hat on his head.

“Okay dad!” Gabriel nodded, despite the fact the top hat was too big for his head and threatened to come off at practically any time. “Me and your mum will be on that table over there, don’t leave this room without one of us, and don’t follow any strangers.” Gabriel’s father said.

“You’ve said that like twice already, dad.” Gabriel pointed out, emphasising the ‘twice’. Gabriel’s father chuckled. “Right, just making sure you’re careful.” He said, walking over to the table where Gabriel’s mother had sat down. Gabriel looked back over to the fox animatronic, it was now performing some sort of instrumental with an accordion, which Gabriel marvelled at.

“That can’t be true!” Foxy said, Mike and Foxy had now been joined by Bonnie and Chica sitting around Freddy as he retold his memories. “How could you have human memories? They must be fake or something.” Foxy theorised. “Uh, well, it says here.” Mike said, flashing his phone to them. It was a picture of a huge yacht, but it looked abandoned.

“At the height of Fazbear Entertainment’s early success in 1986, they opened up some huge yacht as a ‘super location’. It had a pizza place, bar, pool, even a museum of Fazbear Entertainment stuff. Popularity began dying in the early 1990s and they closed it down in 1996. Nowadays, it’s a place for urban explorers, there’s even rumours of some cult practise going on there.” Mike explained, having just read an article on it.

“Yeah! That’s the place!” Freddy recognised, pointing towards the picture. “Do you have any other pictures?” Freddy asked, expectantly. “Uhhh,” Mike turned his phone back to himself, pressing on the article. “Are we ignoring the fact Freddy shouldn’t have memories of being a child? He’s an animatronic, like us!” Foxy reiterated.

“Mike, you seem unnaturally calm about this.” Foxy pointed out, which got a murmur of agreement from Chica and Freddy (And probably Bonnie, if he could talk). “Whenever I was reading up about Fazbear Entertainment, there’s always been rumours of ghosts and possessions.” Mike explained. 

“Honestly, I think I’m just in shock right now. Especially because of that Security Puppet thing.” Mike half joked, showing a picture of an animatronic to Freddy. “This one? It was apparently originally from a really early video game console release that Fazbear Entertainment sponsored, trying to begin some ‘expanded gaming universe’ that could connect with other big game companies. It fell flat pretty quickly, so they stole the game design for an animatronic.” Mike explained.

“That was the fox I already mentioned. The orange one. I can’t remember its name, uh, what was it…” Freddy mumbled to himself for a few seconds. “Lolbit.” Mike said, softly. “I was gonna say that.” Freddy snapped, almost aggressively. Surprising Mike. “Uh, sorry?” Mike half muttered an apology, showing another animatronic.

This one was almost like a mannequin. Freakishly tall and slender with a thin waist (Almost like the Security Puppet), with red ‘clothing’ and thin orange hair in twin pigtails. “It was one of their earliest ‘human’ animatronics. Rumours from former employees say the founder created it, with plans to create way more, but they were never followed through. Its name is…” Mike was interrupted. 

“Eleanor.” Freddy said, out loud.

“You have to find that one creepy! Look at it! That’s right out of a horror movie!” Gabriel’s father said, pointing at Eleanor as she - Or it - sang some song for a crowd of children on the main stage. “I agree with your father on this one, I’d cry if that thing came up to me.” Gabriel’s mother agreed,

“She’s a clown dad, they are all a little bit scary.” Gabriel said, with the condescension that came with any newly aged teenager, as he took a bite of the slice of cheesy pepperoni pizza. Gabriel’s father chuckled, as Gabriel drank his plastic cup of orange juice in one chug. “Can I walk around?” Gabriel asked, excitedly.

“I… uh…” Gabriel’s father hesitated, stuttering to find reasoning. “Yes, just stay in view.” Gabriel’s mother said, interrupting his father, passing him some money for the arcade machines. Gabriel nodded and got up from his chair. “You’re always so neglectful with him, this place is dangerous.” Gabriel’s father said, quietly but harshly. “Oh please, you bought him the hat so we could see him, didn’t you?” His mother pointed out. “We can’t keep an eye on him all the time, we shouldn’t even have come here!” His father said back.

Gabriel tried his best to miss the argument as he rushed off. He hated when his parents fought, even more when it was in public. He walked over to the arcade machines lined up against the corner of the wall and slotted in money to begin playing on one of them. It was some sort of shooting game.

“Hey! You’re good at that game.” A feminine voice from next to Gabriel said, causing him to shriek slightly. “Eek!” He exclaimed, as he died in the game. “Uh, thanks…” Gabriel said, smiling back slightly. The girl was dark-skinned and had short black hair kinda like Gabriel’s brown hair. She was wearing a dark blue shirt with white stripes and had a white headband with paper bunny ears attached. She looked a little older than Gabriel, probably fourteen.

“I like your ears.” Gabriel complimented, guessing her favourite was Bonnie. “Thanks! I like your shirt. Is your favourite Freddy?” She asked, curiously. Gabriel nodded back. “Yeah! Is your’s Bonnie?” Gabriel asked, and the girl nodded. “Yeah! I used to like Freddy the most but I can play guitar, and so can Bonnie, so I kinda shifted favourites. My name’s Jeremy, what’s yours?” The girl asked.

“Uh, your name is Jeremy?” Gabriel asked, thinking he may have misheard her. That was hardly a girl’s name. She shifted in place awkwardly. “My dad wanted a boy, and didn’t care enough to change it when I ended up being a girl.” Jeremy explained, sounding somewhat resentful.

“Oh. Well my name’s Gabriel!” Gabriel introduced, reaching out his hand which she shook. “It’s my birthday!” He said, proudly, causing Jeremy to wish him a happy birthday. “So, why are you here?” Gabriel asked, as he and Jeremy walked. “Well, it’s meant to be a gift from my dad. But I think he just wanted to go to the bar and have time without me. But he says it’s because I won my fencing tournament.” She explained.

“You do fencing? That is so cool!” Gabriel said, interested. “Can you teach me to do fencing?” Gabriel asked, maybe if he learned to defend himself his parents would stop being so overbearing. “Probably not, fencing is hard. But I can teach you an easy defense move!” Jeremy offered.

“So, it’s really easy but most people don’t know it. You put out your hands and thrust forward with your arms, usually you push them by the hips to get them off guard and then sort of ram into them to get them to fall over. Here, I’ll explain it more in depth. So first…” 

By this point almost everyone had turned to Bonnie, who - If he had not been himself - would have also turned to himself. “So, Bonnie’s also a dead child’s ghost. Great.” Foxy said, sarcastically. “We don’t know that.” Chica said, defensively, but even she knew she was just arguing with Foxy for the sake of disagreeing.

“Bunny ears, sword skills. Jeremy is basically Bonnie. E.g. Jeremy is Bonnie.” Foxy pointed out, as Bonnie wrote a response on his notepad. “For the record I don’t remember any of this.” It read. “Well, that’s what I’m wondering. Why did the Security Puppet only reawaken my memories?” Freddy asked.

“The colours.” Mike said, simply, causing everyone to look at him. “Well, you heard Freddy, the yacht was redesigned to be red and green. That party room was red and green, clearly it’s some sort of memory awakening.” Mike pointed out. “Okay, but, is it like a split personality thing going on? An animatronic personality and dead kid personality?” Foxy asked.

“It seems like they’re the same personality. Bonnie knows how to fight, he fought you with a pen afterall. And that attack ‘Jeremy’ was describing sounded like what Freddy did against Chica when she was attacking.” Mike recalled, putting the pieces together, at this point he wondered if he even needed that private detective. He was getting pretty good at connecting the dots himself.

“Are we dead kids?” Chica asked, cutting through everyone else’s thoughts. “Like me and Foxy.” She specified. “No, of course we aren’t.” Foxy said, almost defensively. “Maybe if we got Security Puppet to tap you guys on the head.” Mike said, before both Foxy and Chica quickly shut that idea down.

“Guys!” Freddy shouted, not even trying to calm it down before shouting and interrupting everyone. “I’m remembering more. So listen.” Freddy said, again sounding aggressive. But Mike decided to ignore that for now.

“I don’t really wanna go near them while they’re arguing. It’s better for them to get it all out now.” Gabriel said, sitting against the wall next to Jeremy, as he looked to his parents who had now begun arguing more intensely. “I’m sorry.” Jeremy said, apologetically. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” Gabriel said, resentfully.

“What about your parents?” Gabriel asked, trying to get his mind of his own. “It’s only me and my dad. My mom left us shortly after I was born.” Jeremy recalled. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Gabriel apologised. “It’s fine, not like I knew her.” Jeremy said, half joking. They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Hey kid! I heard it was your birthday.” A voice from beside them said, Gabriel turned to see Bonnie, or some variation. This Bonnie was yellow, with a purple bowtie and two black buttons. Its stomach and the inside of its ears had a lighter yellow shade, and it was wearing a purple star-specked vest, but it was undoubtedly a version of Bonnie. It was the same version of Bonnie he recognised from the commercials and TV shows.

“How did you know?” Gabriel asked, standing up to get a better view. The Bonnie laughed. “Your parents told me!” They lied, their voice didn’t sound right, but Gabriel didn’t catch that in the moment as the topic was quickly changed. “So, where’s your cake?” They asked. “I don’t have any.” Gabriel said, looking down sort of embarrassed. “Well, we must change that,” The Bonnie crouched down to be eye level with Gabriel.

“I have some cake in another room, if you come with me you can have it and we can celebrate. Would you like that?” He offered, staring dead into Gabriel’s eyes. “Ye-” But before he could finish, Jeremy tapped him. “Uh, Gabriel. This guy doesn’t seem trustable.” Jeremy said, whispering as she looked between the Bonnie and Gabriel.

“What are you talking about? They wouldn’t let anyone work here if they weren’t trustworthy.” Gabriel whispered back, like he didn’t want to offend the person who he thought was just trying to be kind. “Okay, well, at least tell your parents!” Jeremy said, in a whispering tone but really saying it somewhat loudly.

“We can’t do that. You wouldn’t want to bother them, would you?” The Bonnie interrupted, the tone somewhat threatening, which Jeremy managed to pick up on but Gabriel not so much. “He’s right, I don’t really wanna bother them.” Gabriel agreed, Jeremy mumbled something.

“Okay fine.” Jeremy said, folding his arms, she clearly couldn’t convince Gabriel to not follow him, but maybe she could keep Gabriel safe. They followed the Bonnie into a small room, it wasn’t decorated like the others, only having a few unplugged arcade machines, some decorations on the floor, an empty Freddy suit and a single table with a piece of cake on a plate.

“Ooh.” Gabriel said, rushing to the empty Freddy suit to inspect it. He had never seen one this up close, only ever on performance. He was so infatuated with it that he didn’t hear the door shut, or the door lock, or the struggle between Jeremy and the man. “Do you like it?” They asked, from behind, having dropped the tone of ‘niceness’ that they used to get Gabriel to follow them.

“Yeah! It looks so cool…” Gabriel said, looking at its features. “It’s one of the earliest suits in the history of the corporation. Way older than anything out there, and unique.” The man continued, stepping closer to Gabriel. “Do you want a closer look?” He asked, which confused Gabriel. “How could I-” Before Gabriel could finish, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, coughing.

He turned around to see the man holding a knife, which was now covered in his own blood. “For a thirteen year old, you’re far easier to lead here than the others.” The man said, coldly, taking off the head and placing it on the ground. It was the same man from earlier, black hair, purple eyes. 

Gabriel collapsed on the floor, still bleeding. His throat felt hoarse, he looked up to see Jeremy on the floor. “What did you… do to her?” He managed to say, despite the blood dripping from his mouth. “Oh, she’s fine. Little can be said about you. I need her for something else. Rest assured, she’ll join you in death soon.” He said, taking out a cloth and wiping the blood from his knife.

“Why?” Gabriel asked, tears now welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t even think properly. “It’s for good reasons. Don’t worry.” He said, assuringly, looking at a clown animatronic in the corner. It looked similar to Eleanor, Gabriel thought he could see a human eye in it. “I had her moved here so I could be reminded of why I was doing this. She is, after all, the reason I’m doing any of this. You and your friend may be the last ones, I’ll bring her back.” He explained, but the meaning of half of that was lost on Gabriel.

As Gabriel’s vision faded, the man carried him closer to the Freddy suit. Gabriel was barely conscious as he was placed inside the suit. “I really need to find out a better way to do this…” Gabriel heard the man mumbling, as his vision faded.

“I don’t really remember much beyond that. Just… fragments of memories.” Freddy said, clutching his head slightly. “So, what? Someone stuffed you into a suit and you possessed it? There’s no way that’s-” Foxy was quickly interrupted. “We get it, Foxy. You don’t like the fact I’m possessed.” Freddy snapped, annoyed.

“Okay, sorry man.” Foxy apologised, not really meaning it. “What do you think about this, Mike?” Foxy asked, looking towards Mike expectantly. “Mike.” Foxy repeated. “Hey Mike!” Foxy said, waving his hook in front of Mike’s unfocused eyes. “Huh? Oh, uh…” Mike tried to formulate a response, when suddenly he got a call on his phone.

“Sorry. I have to take this.” Mike said, getting up from his seat and walking out the entrance as he answered the call. “Hello?” Mike said, waiting for a response on the other end. There was no response. “Hello?” He repeated, before turning to the side to see the private detective right there.

“Ah! Oh. You’re right there.” Mike said, briefly exclaiming before he hung up. “DNA results are fast.” Mike mumbled, as the private detective held out a USB stick. “All DNA information is on that. Results suggest male, last thirties, generally good health. But no matches. Whoever they are, they haven’t donated their DNA to any services.” The detective explained, hands in pockets.

“What about government DNA services? Like if they’ve been arrested, or anything.” Mike asked. “I don’t have that many connections, this is as far as I can get for you.” The detective explained. “Okay. Thanks.” Mike nodded, walking away and back into the pizzeria. As he walked back in, he realised the time was nearing six am.

He watched the Security Puppet fold back into its box, the lid shutting it inside, as the animatronics got back into his position. “Uh! Freddy!” Mike said, rushing to Freddy before he climbed onto the stage. “Yeah?” Freddy turned, looking like he was sort of out of it, like he wasn’t fully there.

“I- I’m sorry. You’re dead. It’s a stupid thing to say, not like it’s my fault. But I hope you’re okay. I’m here for you.” Mike continued, awkwardly, he was never his best at showing emotion to alive humans, let alone dead ones. Freddy didn’t respond for a few seconds. “Thanks, Mike.” He half mumbled, climbing up to the stage and standing, his feet locked into place.

“I just… wish I knew more. I wish I knew why I died. Who that man even was. But I guess I’ll get over it.” Freddy said, as his eyes closed and he activated into showtime mode. The clock hitting six am.

Chapter Text

“You really need to be more careful with these inventions.” Claire said, brushing up the wires and circuitry on the floor. “I was careful! I implanted a kill switch.” Mike argued, watching the remnants of the invention to make sure it didn’t come back to life. “An explosion? You added a self destruct, you could’ve just short circuited the cpu!” Claire argued, pouring the wires and circuitry into the bin.

“Yeah but-” Mike paused, trying to come up with an argument. “That wouldn’t have been as cool?” He reasoned, half shrugging, Claire rolled her eyes. “Next time I see one of those things outside your room, I’m just hitting it with my brush.” Claire threatened, half jokingly, as she placed the brush back in the cabinet.

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Mike nodded, attaching the plastic gold badge to himself whilst looking in the window as a substitute mirror. “You’re going so early.” Claire said, looking at the time through the tv. “A whole forty five minutes.” Claire said, somewhat suspiciously. “Yeah, they needed me slightly earlier. Low number of employees.” Mike lied, recalling that person who had recorded phone messages for him during his first days on the job mentioning how they were the manager, maintenance guy, cook, janitor and waiter.

“Hm, okay.” Claire accepted, as her phone began ringing. Before she managed to grab it, Mike managed to read ‘Jamie’. “Who’s that?” Mike asked, acting like he hadn’t managed to see it. “Ballet instructor, apparently I’ve been lacking in some moves.” Claire lied, putting the phone to her ear.

“I have to take this. Have fun at your job, stay safe.” Claire said, giving Mike a hug as she answered the phone and he left. Mike shut the door behind him, bag over his shoulder. He felt sort of bad about lying to his mum, but he didn’t wanna worry her, and she was lying to him too.

“Okay, so the address…” Mike took out his phone and typed Brownen’s address, it showed the directions to her house, around eighteen minutes away. He wasn’t really sure how he’d get into her house, but he’d figure that out once he got there.

“This is,” Mike paused, pushing the paper clip further into the lock. “So much harder than the tutorial makes it out to be.” He continued, fiddling with the paper clip with his phone in his other hand, he was so lucky nobody had asked him why he was lockpicking a house. “Maybe I need to learn how to lockpick.” Mike said to himself.

He heard the sound of an unlocking and pulled the paper clip out. “Yes!” He quietly exclaimed, pushing open the door and closing it behind him. “If I was Brownen I’d probably put my secret compartment in my office desk.” Mike said, outloud, walking through the corridor. He’d only been here a few times when he was young, his mother and Brownen were apparently childhood friends, but as the years passed by they became distant.

Mike went into the office and to the desk, he opened it and was able to notice a secret compartment, which he slid open and took out a folder of papers. “Aha.” Mike mumbled, looking at the folder. On the cover, the words ‘FAZBEAR ENT.’ was written in full capitals. “This is definitely what I’m looking for.” Mike said, opening the folder as a variety of papers and photos fell out.

“Oops.” Mike mumbled, bending down and putting stuff back into the folder. “Huh?” He half mumbled, picking up a piece of paper with two people in them. One of them was black haired and purple eyed, just like Freddy had described the person who killed him, the other was blonde haired and red eyed, Mike didn’t recognise that person. Behind them was some white bricked building with some stripes of purple paint. 

There were annotations written in red marker on the back of the photo, Mike switched it around and read outloud. “Founders of Fredbears and Co. Later rebranded into Fazbear Entertainment. Photo dated 1984.” He read outloud, continuing to stare for a few seconds. From what he’d searched about Fazbear Entertainment, he’d never ran into them being named ‘Fredbears and Co’, they must’ve rebranded early on in their history.

His thoughts were cut short by the sounds of police sirens. “Oh, sh-” Mike mumbled, putting the photo in the folder. He went to go through the corridor, but realised the police cars would probably park out there. Someone must’ve saw him and called the police on him for lockpicking, couldn’t people mind their own business?

Mike went to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked. “Uhh.” Mike looked around for something, noticing a small metal box. “I hope nothing important is in here…” He mumbled, before remembering the person who owned it was dead, and therefore wouldn’t care. He threw the box at the window and it shattered. 

He quickly climbed through it, folder in hand, getting cut on a few shards of glass but managing to drop onto the grass outside and rush away. As he looked back, two police cars had pulled up, along with a suited figure he couldn’t quite make out, not in a police outfit talking with one of them, presumably a neighbour. Mike was lucky he’d managed to sneak away before being caught, he didn’t have any plans to be arrested.

Mike took out his phone and looked at the time, realising he was late to his job, he also realised he had the keys for the pizzeria and the doors would just be unlocked for anyone to break in. “Maybe they were right to put in the Security Puppet.” Mike mumbled, beginning to rush to his job out the police’s view.

Mike walked through the doorways to the pizzeria, almost out of breath at how fast he ran there. He pushed open the doors and closed them from behind, walking into the main party room. “Mike!” Chica exclaimed, her, Foxy and Bonnie, who were sitting at one of the tables, turned to him.

“Where’ve you been?” Chica asked, curiously, as Mike placed the bag on the table. By now, he’d placed the folder inside so the animatronics didn’t question him about it. “Sorry, I was running late.” Mike apologised, still catching his breath. “Hold on,” Mike said, between breaths.

“One, two, three…” Mike counted, Foxy, Bonnie, Chica. “Where’s Freddy?” He asked, instantly suspicious. “He was being annoying, and we called him out, so he went into the freezer.” Foxy explained, pointing into the kitchen. “Is that safe?” He asked, reaching into his bag and taking out the manual about Fazbear Entertainment animatronics, which he flipped through.

“It says everything should be fine as long as the animatronic hasn’t suffered any major injuries to the head area, otherwise the CPU may be endangered by cold conditions.” Mike read outloud, deciding that was probably safe. “Okay just, uh, keep an eye on him. I’ll be in the security office.” Mike said, putting the manual back into his bag.

“What’s the Security Puppet doing?” Mike asked, curiously. “Uh, well,” Foxy hesitated, looking at Chica. “It’s looking through the vents, we think.” Chica explained, awkwardly, she pointed to one of the vents. “It slithered in there, hasn’t come out since.” Chica explained. “Huh, strange.” Mike mumbled, wondering if that was something he should be worried about.

“Maybe there’s a rat in the vents or something?” Mike theorised, grabbing his bag up from the table and putting it over his shoulders. “Like I said, I’ll be in the security office if you need me, but don’t bother me.” Mike said, almost defensively, as he turned back and began walking through the hallway to the security room.

“Do you think we should mention Freddy hit his head like twice during showtime?” Foxy asked, turning to Chica, once Mike was out of earshot. “Uh, probably, should we go check on him?” Chica asked, that had slipped her mind. “Freddy!” Foxy exclaimed, jumping up from his chair as Chica followed.

Mike entered the office and tapped the buttons on each side, slamming the doors shut. He noticed the one which had been damaged had been fixed, which made things easier. “Okay, uh,” Mike picked up a few pieces of crumpled up paper that had been on the desk since he took the job and placed them on the windows like makeshift curtains so nobody could see inside properly.

“Maybe I’m being too paranoid.” He mumbled to himself, placing his bag down and taking out the folder. He opened it and the first thing he noticed was a few pieces of paper connected by a paperclip, he flipped through each of them and it detailed missing people, many of whom apparently lived in Mike’s town.

Red marker had seeped through multiple pages. “No known correlation between victims; Randomly selected.” He read out, placing the papers down. He grabbed another piece of paper labelled timeline. “First presumed victim of serial killer seventeenth of May.” He read, outloud, that was a few months ago. 

Mike noticed a USB cellotaped to the piece of paper and ripped it off. Mike wondered what the point of a USB was if all the information was written down. As he took out his phone to put the USB in, lining it up with the USB port— “Mike!” Foxy exclaimed from outside, alarming Mike and making him drop the USB.

He walked over to the window and peered outside to see Foxy, looking skittish, and Bonnie next to him looking out for something. Mike took off one of the pieces of paper to look out at Foxy. “Yeah, Foxy?” Mike asked, Foxy turning to the window and walking up to it. “Okay, so we went to check on Freddy in the freezer and it turns out, uh, he’s completely frozen now. Like covered in ice. And he’s attacking us. I think his CPU was damaged or something.” Foxy explained.

“Can you open the door?” Foxy asked, impatiently. “Uh, hold on, I’m doing something right now.” Mike said, hesitantly, looking back to the folder, he couldn’t really explain what he was doing to Foxy, and he’d probably get in his way of investigating. “What? Mike?” Foxy said, aghast.

“Evil Freddy!” Foxy pointed out, gesturing between him and the out of view Freddy. “Uh huh, you guys just solve that. Ask Security Puppet for help.” Mike dismissed, grabbing a piece of paper to put back on the window. “I’m not going anywhere near that thing, it’s still in the vents anyways. Mike you- Eeek!” Foxy was cut short when Freddy went to attack him.

“Oh wow, you weren’t kidding.” Mike said, looking through the window. Freddy was absolutely covered in ice, it looked like he was made out of ice at that point, and it looked like he was using an icicle to attack Foxy, who narrowly avoided it. “They’ll be fine…” Mike mumbled to himself, almost believing his own words as he went back and put the USB in his phone.

“Audio file.” Mike mumbled, as an audio file began playing. “Recording seven. Topic, Afton Robotics.” It began, it was definitely Brownen’s voice, Mike hadn’t heard it many times but it was unrecognisable. “Currently the mechanic and engineering department of Fazbear Entertainment, headed by,” Her voice wavered, like she was checking something.

“Andrew Afton, check recording three for more information about him,” She said, pausing again with the sounds of papers ruffling. “Afton Robotics was founded 21st October 1986 by William Afton, one of two founders of Fazbear Entertainment, dedicated to the invention of state of the art technologies, including animatronics.” She explained.

“According to news reports and witness statements from Fazbear Entertainment employees at the dates leading up to the founding, William Afton and Henry Emily, at that point members of Fazbear Entertainment’s Board of Directors, engaged in public arguments with each other of which there is no discernible reason. These arguments resulted in the end of their friendship and, resultantly, William founded Afton Robotics in an attempt to distance himself from Fazbear Entertainment. Despite this, he continued to serve on the Board of Directors up to his disappearance in late 2001. Henry, also, continued to serve on the Board of Directors up to his own personal disappearance in 2006. Events leading up to these detailed in recording one and recording two respectively.” Brownen explained.

“Afton Robotics continued to rent out animatronics and technologies to Fazbear Entertainment and other companies at a hefty price. This forced Fazbear Entertainment to rely, primarily, on Afton Robotics, and prevented the Board of Directors from removing William Afton from his role despite continued worries of his mental health throughout the 1990s.” She continued.

Mike paused the USB, realising he’d been listening to it out of order. He began looking through the folder for any other USBs, but was quickly interrupted by a loud bang on the office’s window. “Mike!” Chica exclaimed, banging on the window, Mike rolled his eyes and took the papers off the window to see Chica.

“Yes Chica?” Mike asked, sounding disinterested. “Let us in! Bonnie can’t hold off Freddy for long.” Chica said, practically begging. “I’m sure you guys can handle this yourself.” Mike said, not looking her in the eyes out of subconscious guilt. “I don’t think we- Ahh!” Chica was cut short as an icicle was thrown at her which she barely dodged, rushing away.

“Maybe I should help with that…” Mike mumbled, looking back at the folder. “I just need to finish this recording.” He decided, playing it again, after this one he could go help. “However, I believe the founding was not the full story. My conclusion is that William Afton and Henry Emily faked these arguments, publicly, in order to distance themselves from each other upon realising they no longer had the combined majority share of Fazbear Entertainment. This way, if William was forced off the Board of Directors, Henry would not be. And vice versa.” She explained.

“Evidence to agree with this is the similarities in animatronic designs. Various Afton Robotics-made animatronics were built with clothing, a design commonly attributed to Henry Emily. Furthermore, many designs that originated in Afton Robotics-made animatronics made their way into Henry’s later designs during the early 2000s, and William and Henry continued to live in the same neighbourhood for many years after its founding.” Brownen continued.

“Fazbear Entertainment later acquired Afton Robotics in 2006 in a private deal between both corporations which are unclear. More research pending. Andrew Afton was made head of the department. This deal boosted Fazbear Entertainment into previously unseen levels of success which have continued throughout the years and allowed them to venture into other industries, including construction water supply, law, retail etc, for more about the expansion of Fazbear Entertainment see recording four. End recording.” Brownen finished.

Mike took out the USB, he had no idea Fazbear Entertainment was such a huge company to do all those things, Fazbear ‘Entertainment’ was seriously a misleading name if it was that huge. He placed the USB back into the folder and went to close it, but caught notice of something and took it out.

It seemed to be a printed out old newspaper, probably from a site which archived old newspapers or something. He took it out and it was a picture of the yacht location that Freddy mentioned. “Two young children have gone missing after last being sighted in Fazbear’s Mega-Yacht on the 29th April this year. The resulting investigation has led to the temporary closure of Fazbear’s Mega-Yacht. The corporation has denied any responsibility but are described as ‘aiding the police in any manner they can’. This brings further attention to various murders taking place in Fazbear Entertainment owned locations over the past few years that have, so far, been ruled as having no relation to Fazbear Entertainment themselves. Reports indicate the parent of one child has been charged with neglect, with the other child’s parents facing similar charges.” He read out.

“People are being murdered left and right around this corporation. How has it not gone bankrupt?” Mike said to himself, investors must be really stupid, or committed. He placed the paper into the folder and closed it. “I still haven’t figured out how this all relates to the current serial killer.” He realised, deciding to brush that off for now.

He heard the exclamations of Foxy and Chica from the main party room. “I’m coming, guys!” He exclaimed, pressing the button and opening the door to the security office and rushing down the hallway.

“And a few more tweaks here…” Mike mumbled, messing around with the circuitry in Freddy’s exposed endoskeleton head as Chica used a blowdryer to melt the ice Freddy was covered in. “His CPU is fine, these things are durable.” Mike said, grabbing Freddy’s suit head and screwing it back on.

“Oh, thanks Mike. You’ve been a lot of help.” Foxy said, sarcastically, arms folded. “I’m fixing the CPU.” He argued, making a few final touches to attach the head. “He would’ve killed us if not for Bonnie!” Foxy highlighted, turning to the Security Puppet which had since crawled out the vents.

“And a lot of help you were! In the vents all the time!” Foxy shouted, the Security Puppet didn’t even bat an eyesocket. Mike reactivated Freddy. Freddy blinked once, then twice, as his eyes brightened up. “Huh? What happened?” Freddy asked, confused, looking around. “You went into the freezer and tried to kill us.” Foxy stated, point blank.

“What?” Freddy asked, confused. Bonnie, in response, showed what he had written down - ‘Your CPU got damaged in the freezer and you went crazy and attacked us’ - It read. “Oh, right. I remember a little now.” Freddy said, looking down. “You gonna apologise, or?” Foxy asked, expectantly.

“For what? It’s not like I meant to get my CPU damaged and attack you.” Freddy responded, harshly. “You’re unbelievable.” Foxy said, in disbelief, as he stormed out the room. Everyone sat in silence for a little bit. “What’s his problem?” Freddy asked, causing Chica and Bonnie to walk out similarly annoyed by his behaviour.

“Rude.” Freddy said, annoyed. Mike opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. Freddy was being aggressive, but Mike would probably also be aggressive if he’d turned out to be a dead child. “Do you have something to say?” Freddy asked, looking at Mike. “Uh,” Mike hesitated.

“No, sorry.” Mike apologised, trying to ignore Freddy’s stares. Freddy shrugged and walked out of parts and services. Mike placed the wrench back on the shelf, he couldn’t believe his pipewrench had broken yesterday, he’d had that ever since… three years ago. It was a birthday gift from his mum, he’d have to find a new one now.

“I bribed the police to turn a blind eye, but they weren’t able to figure out the perpetrator.” The woman opposite Calliope’s desk recalled, tinkering with the small knife in her hands as she slid it through her hands expertly. “So what? Was probably just a common break in cut short by police arrival. Not like Brownen had any friends who would care to check up on her.” Calliope responded, brushing it off.

“Stop wasting my time. You have your own superiors to report too, not me.” Calliope continued, not looking up from her paperwork. “Now you’re just being rude, can’t old friends talk?” The woman asked, pouting. “Friends, funny word. Personally, I use it for people I like. Meaning I would not attribute it to you.” Calliope responded.

“I’m closer with you than your siblings.” The woman teased. “I wish you went where they are, that’s for sure.” Calliope said, putting another document to the side. “Now get out before I press the silent alarm and security drags you out.” Calliope added, she was half tempted to press it already but, knowing the woman, she probably would’ve just killed whoever came.

“Fine.” The woman agreed, rolling her eyes. “Witnesses say they had blonde hair, know anyone like that?” The woman asked, that got Calliope’s attention, but she didn’t show it, continuing to write on the paperwork. “No. Unless my nursery teacher is working to undermine Fazbear Entertainment.” Calliope quipped, sarcastically, earning a giggle from the woman.

“Okay, I’ll be going now, see you Calli.” The woman said, turning back and skipping away. “Don’t call me that, and send my assistant in when you leave.” Calliope said, slightly annoyed. “And hide your knife!” She added, but by that time the woman was already out of the room. 

After a few seconds, Jamie walked back into the room. “Who was that?” Jamie asked, Calliope was about to reprimand them for asking questions, but decided not too. “Old school acquaintance.” Calliope said. “Well, I say school. More like childhood. Although, it was hardly fit for a child.” She half mumbled. “Tell security to not let her in next time. I hate surprise visitors.” Calliope ordered, Jamie nodded.

She considered bringing up the night guard, Claire’s child, but decided against it. There was nothing she could do anymore, if he continued to research Fazbear Entertainment, he’d sign his own death certificate. 

Chapter Text

“For someone with such extensive notes you really need to get better at organising it, Brownen.” Mike mumbled to himself, shuffling through papers. He wanted to do this yesterday when he got home, but Fallfest, a carnival festival that happened every September, had begun and his mum had convinced him to go.

He thought it was unusual, considering his mum had always made up some excuse to not be able to go. But Mike welcomed it openly considering it was fun, it was a combination of indoor carnival, arcades and attractions, with a Halloween theme despite the fact Halloween was a month away.

Mike had taken notice of a lot of the attractions being Fazbear Entertainment-themed, there were imagery all over of the main animatronics and ones Mike didn’t recognise, some even had costumes and masks on. A quick Google search had concluded it was because Fazbear Entertainment had sponsored the event since they’d been popular, it had originally started out as Spook-Fest.

Mike was starting to wonder how he hadn’t realised how connected Emilville, the town, was to Fazbear Entertainment. Mike placed down a piece of paper about Fredbear & Friends, a TV Show that had begun in 1986 and ending in 1995 and helped Fazbear Entertainment promote their brand, he picked up another piece of paper from the folder which actually caught his attention. 

“Fazbear Entertainment appears to be bribing police and detectives to turn a blind eye to the series of missing people, and news outlets to turn a blind eye to reporting.” Mike read, connected to the paper was a photo of bank statements showing Fazbear Entertainment giving thousands to various news agencies bank accounts.

“Fazbear Entertainment has been linked multiple times by reliable private detectives to cult activities relating to murder. Due to the unnamed serial killer’s actions resembling those of the series of murders taking place in the 1990s, the conclusion is reached that for whatever reasons Fazbear Entertainment is funding a serial killer to commit murders resembling the ones in the 1990s. Reasons why unknown.” Mike read out, finally, that was a connection between the serial killer and Fazbear Entertainment.

Without warning, the black landline phone on the desk began ringing, Mike almost fell off the spinny chair due to not expecting the sudden sound. He quickly placed the papers back in the folder, like whoever was calling would see the papers somehow, and put the folder in his bag.

Mike pressed the answer button on the phone. “Uh, hello? Hello?” The familiar voice began, the voice of ‘phone guy’, who hadn’t left a message since exactly a week ago, last Friday. “Oh, another recorded message.” Mike mumbled. “What advice do you have for me today, voice of a middle aged man?” Mike asked. “Uh, nope! I’m live, so to speak, here in the vocal flesh, haha!” The voice corrected, causing Mike to straighten up, again, like the voice would see him and tell him off for his posture, he noticed the phone read out ‘4th Sep 2020’, the date. If he’d noticed that earlier he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself like that.

“Oh, I- Uh, hi?” Mike said, awkwardly, he hadn’t expected to have any human interaction today. ‘Does Freddy count as human interaction?’ Mike considered, briefly, before pushing the thought to the back of his head. “Hey! Uh, listen. I’m meant to be doing a surprise drop in, you know, to see how you’re taking the night shift, make sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to. Corporate orders.” The voice explained, alarming Mike.

“I thought it would be pretty unfair to do that, to you. Especially because corporate has never ordered this thing before, ever. So I’m just giving you a little warning. I’m at a gas station five minutes away, refueling my car. You’ve got five minutes to get everything into place, alright?” The voice asked.

“I-” Mike paused, trying to find his words. “Can I have more than five minutes?” Mike asked, desperately. “Sorry, you’re not even meant to have five seconds to prepare. Uh, see you on the flipside.” The voice apologised, before Mike could argue it cut off. “Oh, uh, ah,” Mike panicked, he hated things being dropped on him like this.

“Will he want to check my bag?” Mike mumbled to himself, mentally recalling all the items in there, the only thing that would really get him in trouble was the folder. He didn’t really want to have to explain why he had a huge folder about Fazbear Entertainment and a serial killer, composed by a dead woman. He took the folder out his bag and stood up on his desk, pushing it into the vent at the top which he’d previously used when the animatronics tried to kill him, or, the one animatronic, Freddy.

He also placed his switchblade onto the folder, he couldn’t remember if it was legal or not to carry knives, but he didn’t wanna risk it. Mike jumped back down and practically ran into the main party room, where the animatronics were playing arcade machines. “Guys, guys.” Mike said, trying to get their attention.

“Hold on, Mike, I’ve almost beat Bonnie.” Foxy said, determined, he and Bonnie were playing one of those driving games, Racing with Helpy, with steering wheels. All Mike knew about the game was that every skin was a recostumed version of a tiny Freddy, or something. Foxy was doing surprisingly good despite his hook for a hand. “We have more important things!” Mike said, by now he’d already gotten Chica and Freddy’s attention.

“Nothing. Is more important than winning.” Foxy said, squinting his eyes to concentrate better, almost immediately his car crashed into one of the buildings. “Okay, I’m done. What’s up?” Foxy asked, turning around to Mike. “Someone’s coming here to inspect the place! I think he’s the manager? And, like, everything else.” Mike warned.

“Seems like you’re overreacting, Mike.” Foxy dismissed. “No! If he finds out you guys are alive he’ll… scrap you? Or fire me.” Mike theorised, he didn’t actually know what would happen but he was already too committed to warning them to back out now. “Yeah, like I said, overreacting.” Foxy said, shrugging.

“I don’t know, I actually like Mike.” Chica said, like the idea was absurd. “I’m feeling really insulted right now.” Mike said, crossing his arms. “Okay, well what do we do?” Foxy asked, making Mike realise he didn’t actually know. “On the stage, quick!” Mike rushed, pointing to the stage.

Mike watched as everyone except Bonnie and Foxy made their way to the stage, Foxy because he was going to the Pirate’s Cove stage instead. “Bonnie, you need to- Wow.” Mike paused, noticing that Bonnie’s score on the driving game had long since exceeded the other scores. Bonnie’s player character was a small pink and white Freddy wearing a military helmet. “You know you’ve beat the high score, right?” Mike asked.

Bonnie didn’t reply. “Oh, right, you can’t write because you’re focused on the game.” Mike mumbled, remembering. “Get that power up, get the power up!” Mike repeated, the constant repeat led to Bonnie losing control of the steering wheel and crashing into one of the other cars, driven by - Ironically - a shiny version of Bonnie.

Bonnie quickly scribbled down an annoyed response - ‘Don’t backseat drive, Mike’ - “Sorry.” Mike responded, embarrassed, as Bonnie walked towards the stage. “Uh, what else do I need to do?” Mike mumbled, looking around, he noticed the Security Puppet floating around.

“Hey, you, uh, Puppet.” Mike said, trying to get its attention. He ran up to it, slightly afraid of it, and tapped it on the shoulder so it turned around. “Go back in your box.” Mike ordered. “I have… seniority?” Mike reasoned, despite the fact Puppet was probably much older than him.

The Security Puppet stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Mike waited for a response. “Please?” He begged. “I need to protect you all.” It responded, the voice sounding like that of a child, maybe a teenager, it almost sounded like it came from everywhere, and Mike could’ve sworn the mouth of the mask moved, but that wasn’t possible and he quickly pushed those thoughts to the side.

“I-” Mike couldn’t find the words, he didn’t actually expect that thing to speak. “Um-” He stuttered. “Can you stay at your box? Or… not float?” Mike tried to negotiate, the Security Puppet didn’t respond for a moment, before nodding. “Cool.” He responded, weakly, his voice barely a whisper. He never wanted that thing to speak again.

Mike walked away, turning back briefly. “Don’t- Don’t speak again, please.” Mike said, weakly, the Security Puppet again nodded, but Mike felt like it projected an atmosphere of sadness. “Ignoring that.” Mike decided, he’d take in the implications of Security Puppet talking when he wasn’t being inspected.

“Uh, Mike!” Chica said, like a school child putting her hand up. “Should I go take the pizza out of the oven?” Chica asked, looking towards the kitchen. “You could’ve done that before getting on the stage!” Mike pointed out. “I’ll go do it.” He said, going towards the kitchen before he heard the door in the entrance hall open.

“Hello?” The familiar voice came, closing the door behind him. Mike looked towards him, disappointingly, he didn’t have one of those old red telephones for a head like Mike liked to picture him with. He had long brown hair, combed to the right, dark blue eyes and a beard growing in. He was wearing a security outfit, sort of like Mike’s, but light blue instead of purple.

“Oh uh, hi, hello.” Mike said, he was never very good at introductions, reaching out his hand for the man to shake. But he didn’t, and so Mike pulled his hand back awkwardly. “Hey, I’m Ralph, I’m the manager of this place.” Ralph explained, holding a clipboard in his hand, Mike couldn’t make out the papers on it.

“Mike, right?” Ralph asked, looking down to his clipboard which presumably had Mike’s identity. “Yep! That’s me. Mike Schmidt.” Mike responded, looking anxiously towards the kitchen but trying to keep his composure. “Uh huh, good.” Ralph nodded, looking up at the animatronics on the stage.

“Okay, uh, just show me around the place and I’ll make sure everything’s looking right.” Ralph said, pressing the button on his pen absentmindedly. The tapping, suddenly, stopped as he caught notice of the Security Puppet. “You okay?” Mike asked, tilting his head. “Is that…” Ralph trailed off, walking towards the Security Puppet, Mike followed.

“It looks a bit different but, it’s you.” Ralph said, inspecting the Security Puppet. He even briefly reached up to touch the mask, before retracting his hand. “You’ve seen this thing before?” Mike asked, curiously. “Yeah, years and years ago.” Ralph nodded, looking nostalgic. “I would’ve had to have been, what? Seven? Last time I saw that thing, in 1990.” Ralph said, doing the maths in his head, he was never any good at maths.

“It was in Fredbear’s, I’d always found it creepy. I think it was security or something, never really did much though. They phased it out after the manager’s daughter went missing.” Ralph recalled, somewhat casual about his mention of someone disappearing. “It looked different back then, no uniform or anything, little less skinny, small stuff.” Ralph explained.

“I heard they made a few at other locations, in one of the Circus Baby Pizza Worlds I worked at, uh, a decade or so ago they’d just removed it. Could never get the design proper, apparently.” Ralph paused. “Anyways, let’s take a look around.” Ralph said, turning away from the Security Puppet, and to Mike.

“Okay, you lead.” Mike said, wanting to get Mike out of the main party room. “Uh, okay. Let’s go to the kitchen first.” Ralph said, turning to the kitchen. “Actually! I’ll lead! That way you know I’m… paying attention to the surroundings in… my shifts?” Mike reasoned, literally anywhere except the kitchen.

“Uh, sure, okay.” Ralph nodded, a little suspicious but accepting it. “Let’s look at some of the smaller party rooms first, you first.” Mike said, beckoning Ralph to go into the right hallway, which Ralph did. With Ralph’s back turned, Mike rushed over to the stage. “Chica, psst, Chica!” Mike whispered, trying to get her attention.

“Yeah?” Chica whispered back, crouching down. “Go turn off the oven!” Mike whispered, he didn’t want Ralph to see the oven on and blame Mike for not being allowed to do that, and Mike couldn’t really - even if it was correct - claim an animatronic did it. “Okay!” Chica said, rushing towards the stairs on one side of the stage.

Mike rushed back to Ralph, who was exiting one of the party rooms. “All looks in order, I would prefer it if you didn’t run off like that, okay?” Ralph said, ticking something off his clipboard, Mike apologised sheepishly as they moved onto the next room. “So, how long have you been working at Freddy’s?” Mike asked, trying to make small talk.

“The company? Since I was sixteen, I worked in manufacturing, not entertainment. I got moved into entertainment in 2006, they bounced me between pizza places in various roles and eventually I ended up here as the manager, and just about everything else.” Ralph explained, inspecting one of the tables in the small party room.

“You mentioned Fredbear’s, so, are you a fan of the franchise?” Mike asked, following around as Ralph walked through the room, looking under tables and so on, from what Mike knew Fredbear’s was the first of the establishments. “Back when I was young, who in this country wasn’t? I love children’s entertainment.” Ralph continued, marking something off his clipboard and going out the room, Mike followed.

“My daughter, Coppelia, hates the whole thing. The shows, the animatronics, the pizzerias. Makes the, uh, family discount I get here pretty useless, ha, unless I get delivery, but if she knows the pizzas are from Freddy’s she’ll refuse to eat them.” Ralph explained. “Maybe she’ll grow out of the fear, she’s only twelve.” Ralph theorised, entering the other small party room.

“What about you? Like the animatronics up there, or?” Ralph asked. “I think they’re a little creepy, but they have a charm. The guy who fixed them up did real good.” Mike indirectly complimented. “Ah yeah, I met the guy once or twice. Nice guy, seems a little depressed, though. But who wouldn’t be considering,” Ralph paused.

“On the topic of the animatronics,” Ralph said, changing the topic. “I’d like to see how they work, a little more up close.” Ralph said, confusing Mike slightly because why would he, a night guard, know how the animatronics work? I mean, he did, but why would he. “Sure?” Mike responded.

Accidentally, Ralph dropped his clipboard on the floor. “Let me get that for you.” Mike said, quickly, bending down and picking it up. He, nonsuspiciously, looked at the piece of paper at the front of the few pieces clipped on it. Curiously, the top read ‘Fazbear Enterprises’. Not ‘Entertainment’.

“Uh, isn’t it Fazbear Entertainment?” Mike questioned, passing the clipboard back to Ralph. “Oh, uh. The new CEO plans to rebrand the company to make it easier to reach out into other business ventures than just entertainment. They’ll be announcing it later today, actually.” Ralph explained.

“Won’t affect your job, don’t worry. They haven’t been just an ‘entertainment’ company since 2010, basically a megacorporation hiding under a pizzeria chain mask.” Ralph joked, walking out of the party room and through the corridor. “But, you probably wouldn’t know much about that, unless you’ve been doing something like… a deep dive into the corporation's history or something.” Ralph joked, laughing.

“HA! Yeah. Imagine that.” Mike said, laughing a bit too loud for it to not be suspicious. “Uh… yeah.” Ralph nodded, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Just, uh, turn it on now, okay?.” Ralph said, staring at Foxy who was sitting on the table in parts and services. “Right, okay.” Mike said, nervously. He knew Foxy was already online and just pretending to be offline, and didn’t actually know how to tell Foxy to act like a normal animatronic without Ralph hearing.

Mike reached down to Foxy’s arm and pretended to press a button, hoping Ralph would assume that was the turning on button (In reality, there was no button there), and also hoping Foxy would get the idea. Thankfully, he did. Foxy looked up and pretended to power on.

“Hi! I’m Captain Foxy the fox! I was created in 1983 by Henry Emil-” Foxy began. “Uh huh, yep.” Ralph mumbled, looking down at his clipboard as Foxy continued. “-and revamped recently by Andrew Afton for performance in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” Foxy continued, in one of those generic fake cheerful voices.

“Hm, no pirate accent.” Ralph said, writing something on his clipboard. “What’s your main priority, Foxy?” Ralph asked. “Uh… pirating… movies?” Foxy guessed. “Uh, no. Maybe note this one as needing reprogramming.” Ralph said to himself, flipping a page on his clipboard and writing something.

“I’m gonna step out for a second.” Ralph said, pointing to the door, he walked to it and closed it behind him. “Mike! Do something! I can’t be reprogrammed, I’m too cool.” Foxy said, dropping his cheerful voice. “Do what? He’s the manager!” Mike pointed out, highlighting his powerlessness.

“Uh, I’ve got an idea, stay with me.” Foxy said, pausing for dramatic effect. “Have you watched Spongebob?” Foxy asked. “Of course I have, everyone’s watched Spongebob.” Mike said, the television was practically always on when he was a child, unless he took it apart, which happened a lot.

“Okay, you know the health inspector episode?” Foxy continued. “What? We are not poisoning and burying the manager.” Mike said, outraged by the idea, by this point they were more shouting in a whispery voice than anything. “It’s either the manager or me, Mike.” Foxy said, crossing his arms.

“You! Obviously you! He’s a human, you’re not.” Mike said. “Oh. Wow. So you don’t see robots as people.” Foxy said, faking outrage. “Can you guys plot my death a little quieter?” Ralph asked, door open. “Yeah, sorry.” Mike said, turning back to Foxy. His mouth opened to say something, but he paused.

“Hold on. What?” Mike said, turning back to Ralph. “You know they’re alive?” Mike asked, gesturing to the animatronics who seemed similarly surprised. “You know the camera’s record, right? I watched the footage.” Ralph said, like it was obvious, which it now was once he stated it.

“Yeah, I- I knew that.” Mike lied. “And, plus, I’ve been working across pizzerias for a while. Usually animatronics, uh, attacked me. Not sure why these guys are different. Maybe because they’re old designs, or something?” Ralph explained. “So you’re not really gonna reprogram me?” Foxy asked.

“No, just thought it’d be funny to worry you, heh.” Ralph revealed, causing Foxy to sigh in relief. “Wait, so is this an actual inspection?” Mike asked, wanting to check. “Oh, uh, yeah. Corporate was really insistent I do an inspection.” Ralph explained. “My only note is to stop tampering with the animatronics, but because we don’t have a mechanic I’ll let it go, just write down what you do next time.” Ralph somewhat reprimanded.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just see something mechanical and need to figure out how it works, it’s an addiction, really.” Mike joked, trying to make an excuse for himself even if it didn’t work very well.

Mike grabbed the folder from the vent and jumped down from his desk, now that Ralph was gone he could continue reading this. Weirdly, it felt lighter in his hands, maybe some stuff had dropped out. He peered back into the vent but nope, nothing had fallen out. Maybe he was just wrong.

Mike turned around and was practically jumpscared by Security Puppet, who was just standing there. Mike jumped back and banged into the table, still attempting to inch back further because there was an uncomfortable lack of distance between him and Security Puppet. “Uh, b- back up.” Mike stuttered.

“The others do not remember, not fully.” It began, in the same voice of a child like it had earlier. “But I remember. I recall each moment. I am not like them.” It continued, inching closer to Mike, who tried to inch further back, but again couldn’t. “Yeah, they don’t ever get this close to me.” Mike half mumbled, looking down because looking into its eyes made him uncomfortable.

“We are the same. Me and you. I could answer every question you have.” It said, if Mike had looked up he would see its eyes glowing white. “But you do not want me too. You want to know for the sake of knowing. Not to help.” It said, its tone unclear, was it disdain? Mike couldn’t tell.

“I do not hate you, but stay out of my way.” It vanished into thin air. “W-What?” Mike managed to weakly say, looking around. But it had just disappeared, like it wasn’t there. He hastily checked the cameras and it was still sitting at its box like it had earlier, it hadn’t moved a muscle. Mike held the folder in his hand tighter, almost nervously.

“I don’t feel very secure with that thing. Not at all.” Mike mumbled to himself.

Chapter Text

“And if I just press this button.” Mike mumbled to himself, tapping a key on the computer that was connected by a variety of wires to an endoskeleton. “Not working, maybe if I…” Mike turned back to the computer, typing in a line of code. “Test two.” Mike said, tapping the same key a second time.

The endoskeleton raised its arm and, with a lighter connected to it, shot out fire that didn’t quite reach the wall but went quite far either way. “Yes! Flamethrower!” Mike said, pressing another key to turn it off, the endoskeleton arm reached down but the fire didn’t stop, burning the floor.

“Ah!” Mike exclaimed, stepping back. “Little help!” Mike shouted, after a few seconds of silence Ralph walked into the room. “Hey, what’s- OH MY GOD-” Ralph stepped back out of the room. “If I remembered you were here I wouldn’t have asked for help.” Mike said, half to himself, he forgot Ralph had said he was going to be on the night shift to avoid customer complaints.

“Get water or something!” Mike said, exclaiming from the other side of the room, both he and Ralph were separated by fire. “You have liquid right there!” Ralph argued, pointing to the can of Fizzyfaz on one of the shelves that Mike had been drinking. “That’s not water! That’s- Not even healthy!” Mike pointed out.

“Just do it!” Ralph said. “Fine!” Mike said, he grabbed the can of Fizzyfaz and splashed it on the lighter, putting it out and giving Mike time to rip the lighter out and turn it off. “Note to self, make sure to have a code that turns the lighter off, instead of just on.” Mike said, planning to write that in his notepad later.

Ralph looked down at the black mark on the floor. “That’s coming out of your paycheck to fix.” Ralph said, turning back and walking out the room. “And don’t do that without asking me!” Ralph added, now out of view. “Second note to self, lock parts and services so Ralph can’t tell me off.” Mike said, also planning to write that down.

He disconnected the wires and the endoskeleton, placing them back on the shelf and leaving the endoskeleton on the table as he walked through the storage room and into the main party room where the animatronics were eating a pizza at one of the tables. “Guys, I have an idea.” Mike said, as they all turned to him.

“Basically, right, from the third to the eighth of September they do this carnival festival thing called Fallfest nearby, it’s got games and stuff.” Mike began, looking around for Ralph who he couldn’t see. “About you guys.” He added. “I was thinking we should all go, and do stuff.” Mike explained.

“I think you’re missing the fact we’re… animatronics.” Foxy pointed out, gesturing to his whole body. “No, but, I thought about that.” Mike said, proudly. “Everyone will just think you guys have really realistic costumes. Like super realistic.” He explained, recalling how some people there already had costumes of the animatronics on, ones that weren’t at all resemblant to the actual animatronics but it would probably work, people were more likely to assume realistic costumes than the animatronics being alive.

“Well I’m convinced, Bonnie?” Foxy turned to look at Bonnie. ‘I think that could work’ Bonnie had written down, obviously anticipating that he was about to be asked. “What about Ralph? I don’t think he’d want us doing this.” Chica said. “Well, where is Ralph?” Mike asked, Chica pointed to the door to his office.

“I didn’t notice that that was there till now.” Mike mumbled. “I’ll go talk to him.” Mike said, walking over to the door and knocking on it. “Hey, Ralph.” Mike said, opening the door. Ralph was sitting at his desk reading a book. “Oh, uh, hey Mike.” Ralph said, looking up at Mike as he placed the book down.

“If you’re gonna ask to do another flamethrower thing, it’s a no, alright?” Ralph said, looking back at his book. “No no no no.” Mike said, closing the door behind him. “I mean, are you sure it’s a no?” Mike asked, he did kinda want to make another flamethrower. “It’s definitively a no.” Ralph said, his tone making it clear there was no room for discussion.

“Okay, fine, it’s- It’s not even about that.” Mike said, half angrily. “I was thinking it would be good for… animatronic morale if they went to Fallfest.” Mike said, sitting on the seat opposite Ralph’s. “That’s a lawsuit and a half. Those are Fazbear Entertai- Sorry, uh, Enterprises, property.” Ralph responded, not even entertaining the idea.

“You could come with them so they don’t get into issues, trust me, I’ve thought it through. They’ll pretend to be people in costumes.” Mike explained, trying to convince Ralph. “Again, still a lawsuit in the making. And if Fazbear Enterprises finds out it’ll be my head on a platter.” Ralph reiterated.

“But this way you can watch them and stop them, if, for example, Freddy hit a child while in showtime mode that would be in front of crowds of people. And Freddy’s been aggressive lately, this may help.” Mike continued, he’d been thinking of his reasoning almost the entire weekend. 

Ralph paused for a few seconds, sighing. “I’m convinced, fine.” Ralph accepted, getting up from his chair. “If anything happens, I’m firing you before I get fired.” Ralph threatened, slotting his book into the bookshelf.  “Yes! Okay, that’s fine.” Mike agreed, happily.

“I thought this place would be more crowded.” Freddy said, walking through the attractions. “Well, it is 3am.” Foxy pointed out. “That’s probably for the better, less witnesses if something happens.” Ralph said, looking down like he was deep in thought. “You don’t seem very optimistic.” Foxy observed.

“Gee, I wonder why.” Ralph mumbled, as a young woman came up to Bonnie. “Wow! Your costume is so realistic, did you make it yourself?” The woman asked, curiously. “Uh, he’s mute so he can’t reply.” Ralph said, interjecting himself into the conversation on account of Bonnie’s lack of voicebox.

At the same time, Mike also suggested an excuse. “His costume makes it hard for him to speak, sorry.” Mike lied, as both him and Ralph looked at each other. “Both, it’s both.” Ralph said, trying to cover up both their excuses. “Uh, okay?” The woman said, laughing slightly on account of how awkward it was.

“Uh, cool costume.” She mumbled, walking away, Ralph sighed thankfully that she hadn’t asked any more questions. “That was close.” Ralph mumbled, turning back to notice Foxy and Chica were missing. “Oh, shit.” Ralph said, turning to Mike. “Look! This is why they aren’t allowed out!” Ralph said, looking around to try to find them.

“At least Freddy’s here.” Mike said, trying to look on the bright side. “Freddy, did you see where they went?” Ralph asked. “No, I’m not their caretaker.” Freddy said, aggressively. “Okay, uh, sorry.” Ralph said, backing up slightly. “Split up, I’ll go find one of them, you go find the other. Both of you, uh, stay right here, alright? Ralph said to Mike, then turning to Freddy and Bonnie when he said the second half.

“Okay, you go that way I’ll go that way.” Ralph said, turning back to Mike as Mike nodded, Ralph turned and went into the other direction. “Foxy! Chi-” Mike shouted, before pausing. “I probably shouldn’t say that.” He mumbled, walking past a few open attractions all adorned with the animatronics likeness, some had similar plushies like the ones he’d seen in the prize counter.

“Hey, you. Hit down these cups and win a prize.” One of the attraction employees said, which Mike politely refused by walking past. After a few minutes of walking, he noticed a small red tent which had an open sign, it was one of those tarot reading places, Mike had never been in one, and he found it weird for one to be at Fallfest, but he decided to go into it anyways, he saw no signs of either Foxy or Chica afterall.

“Uh, hello.” Mike said, crouching down to go into the tent. It all seemed very ‘classic witch’, crystals adorned, symbols Mike didn’t recognise and other things that looked vaguely ritualistic. “Ah, I’ve been expecting you.” The person opposite him said, turning around. “Really?” Mike asked, doubtfully.

“If you have any money, then yes.” The person responded, Mike reached into his pocket and took out some money which he passed over. “Then yes, I’ve been expecting you.” She decided, wearing some sort of cloak. “Would you like a tarot reading?” She asked, gesturing to the seat.

“Uh, yeah.” Mike nodded, sitting on a pillow on the floor crosslegged. “What sort?” The person asked, grabbing a set of tarot cards from the desk and sitting on the pillow opposite Mike. “Any?” Mike responded, uncertainly, he hadn’t really thought that far ahead, his mum had always told him to think things out before doing them, especially in robotics. He almost never listened.

“Hm, okay.” The person nodded, taking the cards out the pack and shuffling them for over thirty seconds. Mike had never believed in witchcraft, or any sort of magic, but - Over the past week - he’d begun doubting such things considering, well, ghosts. Dragging him out of his thoughts, the person placed down a card on the small table in between them.

It was a man on the edge of a mountain, walking towards a cliff, a dog was barking at his heel but it didn’t look like the man was realising. “You are the Fool, upright.” She began. “This is a good card. It is a card of infinite potential. The fool is entering a new journey, a new beginning. New experiences, personal growth, adventure.” She continued.

“But the fool is not always positive. This is a new beginning, but not necessarily a good beginning. The fool walks towards a mountain, he must take a leap, he must take a risk. This is either because you do not take risks enough, or because you take too many risks. Or both.” She explained, placing another card next to the fool card.

This card was a figure on a vehicle driven by white and black sphinxes. “Your mother is the chariot. This card is more neutral. It signifies strength, determination, so on. The card means to take action to succeed, that obstacles are coming that must be avoided. To understand yourself as you are,” She explained.

“But the chariot must be careful. To reach its goal it will not always look at others, or will be blinded by the end goal. Tunnel vision, as it is called. Despite exerting control over its surroundings, it may not always understand its surroundings. Its actions may bring out feelings it doesn’t realise it has. Aggression, even. It must be controlled.” She paused, grabbing and slamming another card. Now three.

“Your father is the hanged man.” She said, Mike briefly opened his mouth to tell her that, well, he’d never met his father. Barely ever even heard a word about him, but he wanted to know things about his father that his mother wouldn’t admit, so he closed his mouth and allowed her to continue. The card was of a man, upside down, suspended on a tree.

“The hanged man is a sacrifice, perhaps one due to repentance of wrongdoings, or to see his path forward clearer. This path is walked alone, due to indecision, urgency or another thing altogether. This card is waiting, patience, but not always of his own choice. Maybe, even, due to force.” She revealed.

“But either way, the pause is to achieve success, or await opportunity. A change in life, much akin to the fool. You are much like your father, in that way, Michael.” The person said, looking at him in the eyes, it sent shivers down his spine. “Uh, tha- thank you. I’ll be going now. Thanks again.” Mike stuttered, getting up in a panic. He’d never told this person his name.

“The person you chase is The Hierophant, reversed.” The person said, placing a card of a figure adorned in red sitting in what appeared to be a church. Mike didn’t have time to even open his mouth as the person continued. “The Hierophant reversed symbolises a lack of control due to being tied in traditions and taught normality.” She explained.

“It is about attempting to stray away from a path taught by external forces, to trust yourself and not the knowledge of others. About challenging the status quo. If this figure was here, they’d learn this, but because he is not. He will not.” The person explained, almost sorrowfully.

“You hunt someone dangerous, someone who will harm you. If you get close enough, you will be surrounded by fire and flames, you will be burned and your face will melt off and reveal something about yourself you do not want to know.” The person continued, Mike backed away. “And that is not a tarot divination, that is a divination of you. Your future.” She continued.

“Watch yourself, Michael A-” Mike didn’t hear the rest as he rushed out the tent, back out into the night. That settled it, he was done with witchcraft. Never again. “Stick to robotics, Mike.” Mike mumbled to himself, looking around, he noticed Chica playing on one of the attractions.

“Chica!” Mike said, rushing over to her. It was some sort of shooting game, she was using a toy blaster to shoot wooden cutouts of animatronics that would pop up and down. “Oh, hey Mike!” Chica said, turning to Mike before continuing to shoot. “You can’t run off like that! Ralph and I were looking for you!” Mike said, still slightly nervous from the divination.

“Oops, sorry!” Chica apologised, sheepishly, placing the gun down as she went to walk off. “Hey! You have to pay!” The person running the attraction said, causing Chica to freeze. “Sorry about that,” Mike apologised, reaching into his pocket and taking out money which he gave to the person. He and Chica walked off towards the place Ralph had said for Bonnie and Freddy to stay at.

“Mike! You found her!” Ralph said, thankfully, with Foxy next to him. “Thank god.” Ralph mumbled, putting his hands in his head thankfully. “Okay, we’re going back to the pizza place right now, this whole thing is over.” Ralph said, like he was a teacher telling off school children.

“But Ralph-” Foxy began, before Ralph quickly shut his talking down. “No buts, back to the pizza place now.” Ralph said, as Mike heard Freddy mumble something angrily, or sarcastically, or both.

“Almost six am, god, I should’ve paid attention to the time.” Ralph mumbled, as the animatronics walked through the doors into the pizza place. “They would’ve killed me if the employees got here and there were no animatronics.” Ralph said, looking down at his wrist watch, Mike walked in last.

“Hold on, Mike.” Ralph said, closing the doors as Mike was in. “Listen, I get you’re trying to do good for the animatronics, and, uh, I respect that. But you need to accept that sometimes things you do won’t work, that whole thing was so Freddy would be happy, nothing happened with Freddy, he’s probably more angry. You just need to accept that you can’t fix everything.” Ralph reiterated.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. You’re right.” Mike said, sheepishly. After a few more words from Ralph, Mike managed to get away and walked to Freddy, who was on the stage. “Hey, Freddy, can you come with me for a second?” Mike said, looking up at the other animatronics to make sure they didn’t realise anything suspicious.

“Fine, I guess.” Freddy agreed, getting up and following Mike into the smaller party room with a stage which was being used as storage, which it had been since Mike got his job here, Mike shut the door behind them and propped a box up to it so nobody could get in. “Look, I- I shouldn’t tell you this.” Mike began, taking out a small piece of paper folded up.

“And don’t tell anyone, because I think Ralph would kill me if he found out.” Mike said, putting the paper into Freddy’s hand. “I, well, someone I hired, managed to track down your parents address. They’re in their seventies now, retired from their jobs, it’s nearby in another part of town an hour away.” Mike explained, as Freddy looked down to the piece of paper with the address written on it.

“One of these days Ralph isn’t here I can take you there. I can’t promise you’ll talk to them, and I don’t really know how it would work out, but it’s worth a try.” Mike offered, he almost definitely shouldn’t do that, but Freddy deserved to see his parents again. “I-” The words got stuck in Freddy’s throat, surprising since he wasn’t human anymore.

“Th… Thank you, Mike.” Freddy mumbled, not entirely sure what to say. “Anything for a friend.” Mike said, smiling slightly. From the vents above them, Security Puppet observed, and Security Puppet considered.

“But why did he let the police find Brownen’s body? I don’t get it.” One of the shareholders asked, less annoyed and more confused by the action. Calliope had never bothered to remember their name. “I’m doing damage control, but we do have a leak somewhere. Someone told the press Brownen was investigating the serial killer and the corporation’s connection to it.” Thomas, the director of Fazbear Enterprises’ Public Relations Department, responded.

The people around this table were a skeleton crew, composed of a few executives, Calliope, Thomas etc, and shareholders. They were meeting in a hurry in their usual meeting room in the Fazplex Tower. They weren’t able to do much without the rest of the board, but it was better than waiting a week till the next meeting of the full board.

“Who cares? We need to cut his funding off, teach him to listen to us. Or end the experiment.” Abigail, one of the shareholders Calliope did know the name of because she actually liked her, stated. “You’re just looking for an excuse to shut down the experiment, it’s important work.” Another shareholder argued, Calliope was somewhat certain his surname was Greenwood, but fully certain he was one of the shareholders involved with opening Chica’s Party World back in 2015, and - Again - somewhat sure he was the current manager of the location.

“Murder is important work? Oh, please. We’re risking half of this corporation by funding this person, this can easily be tied back to us. If the police catch him, we’re done!” Abigail argued back, aggressively, her fuse was always short. It quickly devolved into shouting, shouting between almost everyone at the table, shouting which would’ve been stopped by the CEO - Given her role as Chairperson of the Board - if they had bothered to show up to the meeting.

Abigail and probably Greenwood were shouting about the experiment, Thomas was shouting to nobody in particular about a leak, and the others were shouting about something Calliope deemed not important enough to note. “The leak is Claire.” Calliope said, her voice cut through everyone’s shouting and died down.

“Claire? You mean- Jesus Christ. Nothing we can do, then.” Thomas paused, putting one of their hands to the temple of their nose to try to negate their anger. “Whilst I agree with Abigail, there aren’t enough of the board here to vote on the shutting down of the experiment.” Calliope reminded.  “And I doubt it would end up in our favour, Abigail.” She added, turning to Abigail who nodded.

“So what? We just let him do whatever he wants?” The shareholder who Calliope didn’t remember the name of asked. “I’ll arrange for someone to tell him off, sternly.” Calliope offered, getting a few nods from other members across the table. “Fine, but when this all blows up in our faces, it’s all of your heads on the line.” Abigail said, pointing around to everyone.

“Except you, Calliope, I’ll cover for you.” Abigail said, she was one of the members of the shareholders who voted for Calliope to be CEO seven months back. She had also been in the corporation around as long as Calliope was in it; She was integrated into the board after her father, Arthur, passed away and she inherited his shares. She was also the regional manager of Fazbear Enterprises’ German branch of locations, again, a role she inherited from her father.

“Is that our meeting over? I do have things to get back too.” One of the elder shareholders asked, his name was Prescott, he’d been a member of the Board since the corporation was still called ‘Fredbears and Co’. He was a shareholder of various other companies, Smiles and Servos, Wonderland Inc, Westerfield Corp, CTC Entertainment etc. Some of them were even rivals of Fazbear Enterprises, but for some reason - One lost to Calliope - nobody seemed to have an issue with it. Maybe because of his history with the corporation, after all, he was one of the few whose investments made Fazbear Enterprises what it was today.

“I believe so.” Calliope said, with nods and mumbles of concurrences in response. “If there’s anything else anyone wants to bring up?” Calliope asked, looking around the table. “The construction of the pizzaplexes?” Abigail asked, looking to Verdugo, he was another shareholder and the sole board member of Fazbear Construction Inc, a subsidiary of Fazbear Enterprises.

“Should be done within a matter of months, if everything goes right.” Verdugo responded, looking uninterested in the whole meeting and more interested in blueprints he was looking at. “Okay, that’s all I needed to know.”  Abigail nodded, looking back up at Calliope. “Hm. Meeting over, then.” Calliope said.

Chapter Text

Mike snuck through the hallway of apartments up the stairs, the place was clearly abandoned. Spiders and bugs were crawling on the floor and the paint on the walls were fading off and chipped. From what Mike had read, the place had been abandoned for decades, it was purchased by Fazbear Enterprises, then Entertainment, to branch out into property management but it didn’t work well and the place was abandoned.

From Brownen’s notes, this was one of the possible locations in Emilville the serial killer was working at, another location was an abandoned Freddy Fazbear’s location on the edge of the town, an abandoned amusement park and a few other abandoned places. All belonging to Fazbear Enterprises. 

Mike had told his mum he was going out for fresh air, she obviously found it extremely suspicious because Mike never went outside for fresh air, but hadn’t decided to question him further. It took him two hours to get here, he’d called in sick on his job so Ralph was probably gonna be dealing with the animatronics.

As Mike snuck up the stairs, he noticed one of the rooms had lights on. He reached into his pocket, taking out his pocket knife and inched closer to the door. From the little he knew about this person, they were way older than him, and probably more fit. So Mike was relying purely on a surprise attack to overpower them.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He turned around just in time to see his familiar attacker pull a needle out of Mike’s throat, Mike felt the mark on his neck and felt light headed, collapsing as everything went black.

Mike’s eyes snapped open, it took him a few seconds to focus on everything around him. But he quickly realised he was strapped to some sort of table by metal restraints. He looked around the room, it was obviously decaying like the rest of the building. But it seemed to have been recently renovated.

There were sorts of medical equipment all over the place, along with papers and photos of various people, some Mike recognised as people he’d read about going missing. But most curiously, there seemed to be multiple cauldrons with some sort of bubbling liquid, what that was was lost on Mike.

“You awake? That’s good.” His attacker said, sitting on a chair with his head down, his voice was southern. “I’ve noticed you’ve been researching me, you’ve gotten frightfully close.” They continued, Mike noticed they had a knife in their hand, they still hadn’t looked up at him.

“It was you who broke into Brownen’s house, right? Calli said it was you, well, she didn’t say it was you. But her silence said it was you, you get me?” His attacker asked, as he looked up at Mike, Mike felt like he had saw him somewhere, but he couldn’t place his finger on where. Red eyes. The red eyes seemed most familiar.

“I don’t think you realise what’s going on here.” His attacker continued, getting up from his chair and walking over to Mike. “I am doing things so much more important than you would understand. You’re simple minded, pathetic.” He insulted, putting the knife up to Mike’s throat.

“But I am,” He paused, the knife was now resting on Mike’s throat, he laughed. “I am more.” He finished, pulling the knife away. “I won’t kill you, they won’t let me.” He said, placing the knife in his pocket. “But stop researching me.” His attacker said, walking over to one of the cauldrons and pulling a lever on the wall, lava came from the ceiling and poured into the cauldron, leaving it empty as it merged with the bubbling liquid. “Because if we meet again, I will kill you. And you’ve been through enough, even if you don’t know.” He threatened, as lava poured into each of the cauldrons.

“Do you understand me? Oh, right, your mouth’s taped.” His attacker teased, walking closer, Mike took the chance and pushed his arm on the table he was strapped to, it sent a signal to the wires he’d attached to his arm and pushed up a small knife into his palm. He used the tip to cut one of the restraints.

In a quick motion, Mike stabbed into his attacker's knee and quickly began to cut at his other restraint. “Oh- You-” His attacker mumbled, flinching back and almost falling down as he tried to stop the blood dripping. Mike quickly cut the rest of his restraints and managed to get out, pacing back slightly as he put his knife up to protect himself.

“Why are you doing any of this? I don’t get it.” Mike said, his voice shaky. He really really hadn’t thought this ahead. His attacker walked closer, and so Mike backed up, within a few seconds their positions in the room had changed. Mike was next to the cauldrons and his attacker was next to a window.

“Because I want to know everything. Because I won’t be controlled. Aren’t we similar, in that regard? Don’t you also want to know everything?” His attacker asked, almost teasingly. “We’re nothing alike, you’re a murderer.” Mike said, defensively. His attacker pulled up his mask, hiding the lower half of his face.

“So what?” He asked, like he didn’t care. “You’ve killed people.” Mike added, although doubted he was going to make this person feel sympathy for their victims. “People are born dying, atom by atom, decaying infinitely. I just speed up that process, but I can make them live anew, like Freddy. Isn’t that all anyone wants? to live forever?” His attacker asked, surprising Mike who didn’t expect him to know about Freddy.

“Freddy didn’t even know who he was, you’re no saviour.” Mike continued, inching slightly closer, ready to attack. “The dead do forget. Everyone does one day, don’t they? Even you forget.” His attacker argued. “But I assure you, I do this for good reasons. I will bring her back. I will make her live again.” His attacker said, his voice shaky with every ‘her’. “Who?” Mike asked, but suddenly, Mike heard footsteps coming from the door, when he turned back, his attacker had vanished. Just like that.

A police officer burst through the door. “Hands up! You’re under arrest!” They exclaimed, pointing their pistol at Mike. Mike briefly looked at the window, it led to the fire escape, he considered using it. But reasoned he wasn’t as fast as a gun. He dropped his knife and raised his hands.

“For the last time, what were you doing there?” One of the police officers questioned, sitting opposite Mike. There were two officers, but only the one of them who caught Mike had spoken. “Like I said, wrong place wrong time.” Mike repeated, quietly, it was practically all he’d said the whole interrogation, he couldn’t really say; ‘Oh, you know, the usual. Using the notes of a murdered woman to track down a serial killer and attack him because he attacked me in an alleyway almost two weeks ago’. Well, he could, but it wouldn’t go down well.

“That’s not an answer!” The same police officer snapped, before the other officer - Saying his first words - asked to talk to his partner at another side of the room. From what Mike could hear, they were discussing whether or not he was the serial killer, they concluded he wasn’t because ‘someone from Fazbear’s would’ve arrived to bail him out by now’.

“Okay,” One of the police officers said, walking back up to Mike. “Okay, we’re putting you into a cell until we can sort this out. Do you want your phone call?” He asked, slightly friendlier with Mike. Mike nodded. After his phone call, they placed him in one of the cells in the back of the police station and went to sit in the reception area, obviously assuming he wouldn’t need any supervision because, well, he was locked up.

Around ten minutes later, Mike heard his mother’s voice, talking to the police officers. Almost certainly bribing them to let him go, she would definitely have questions for him, but Mike would get to that when he got to it. Looking towards the door to make sure nobody came in, Mike took out a paperclip and began working at the cell lock.

He’d watched a few tutorials on youtube since last time he’d tried to pick a lock, and, hopefully, gotten better at it. Within a few seconds, the cell door unlocked. Mike pushed it open softly, making sure the police couldn’t hear it. He looked around to a computer on a desk, and rushed over to it.

He wasn’t entirely sure this would work. But it was worth a try. He reached into his pocket and took out the USB with all the DNA information about his attacker, as the detective had told him, no public database had any data matching it, but maybe the police’s database would.

He slid the USB into the port on the side, a notification came up ‘DNA uploading’, as a list of DNA profiles appeared. He listened in to Claire and the officers' conversation, something about the amount of money Claire would have to give them. “Hurry up…” Mike mumbled, tapping on the desk anxiously.

The computer dinged. ‘One match!’ It said, opening one profile. Mike read through it. “Sammy Emily? ‘Emily’ as in Henry Emily?” Mike mumbled, this guy was related to one of the founders of Fazbear Enterprises. “Arrested briefly for suspected murder but let out due to lack of evidence. Huh.” Mike read, so they apparently hadn’t connected that ‘Sammy Emily’ was the killer.

‘Okay, Mrs. Schmidt, this should be enough’ Mike heard one of the police officers say, he turned to see one of them coming towards the door through its blurry window, he turned the computer off and rushed back into his cell, shutting the door just as the other door opened and the police officer walked through.

“You’re free to go.” The officer said, putting the key in the cell door before realising it wasn’t locked. “Huh. We forgot to lock it. Lucky you didn’t realise, hah.” He laughed, unknowingly, as he opened the door and Mike walked out.

The walk home had been silent. Dead silence. Claire hadn’t said a word to him, barely even looked him in the eyes. They walked up to the stairs of the house's doorway and Claire put in the key, unlocking the door, Mike walked in and shut it behind him. His mum was standing in the living room.

“Look-” Mike began, but Claire quickly interrupted. “What are you doing?” She asked, turning around and looking him in the eyes. “Seriously, Mike. If that happens again the police won’t let you go. No matter how much money I give them.” Claire stated, trying to show how severe the situation was.

“I barely got that off your permanent record, I need to know what you were doing. You can’t keep hiding things from me.” Claire said, her voice was trying to be soft but failing, she was angry. Mike opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t get any words out. “Ever since you got that job, you’ve been acting different. I need to know what’s going on. Stop lying to me.” Claire reiterated.

“No.” Mike said, outloud, surprising Claire, and himself. “You stop lying to me!” Mike said, his voice more confrontational than he wanted it to be, but he couldn’t back down now. “Ever since I got that job you’ve been acting weird, and lying, and not telling me the whole truth!” Mike continued, putting extra emphasis on ‘you’ve’. He was never usually this confrontational.

“You’ve been cage-y about my whole job, everything about Fazbear’s, you’ve been talking to Jamie and lying about who they are. If you want me to be honest with you, you have to be honest with me first.” Mike continued, by this point he was almost shouting at her, and she looked surprised he’d done that. Mike was surprised with himself, honestly.

“I-” Claire stuttered, surprised. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Claire admitted, regretfully. “I haven’t been fully honest with you, I’m being hypocritical. I’m sorry.” Claire continued. “I’m the ex-wife of William Afton, one of two founders of Fazbear Entertainment.” Claire admitted, not looking Mike in the eyes.

“W-What?” Mike said, not able to say anything else. “Fazbear’s is dangerous, they are rotten to the core just like William was. They’re tied to murder after murder to reach some unobtainable goal. William took life after life in the 1990s, Fazbear Entertainment knew and covered it up.” Claire revealed.

“Then why are you working with them?” Mike asked, trying to figure out the full story. “After William was presumed dead, I received the rights to the likeness of most of the animatronics. My deal with them was that they could continue to use them. I barely interacted with them outside of the royalty checks they sent me, but once you got the job I felt like I had to do something to protect you.” Claire continued.

“Now you have to tell me what you’re doing, and maybe I can help you.” Claire added, Mike hesitated. “I- I’ve been researching the company and the serial killer. He was the one who attacked me.” Mike admitted. “Brownen died doing that, I can’t let you continue.” Claire responded, almost immediately.

“You can’t stop me.” Mike argued, again, almost immediately. “I can’t.” She nodded, hesitantly. “If you find out about this serial killer, I need you to promise to stop investigating Fazbear’s, you can still work there but that’s it, okay?” Claire asked. “Okay.” Mike agreed, that seemed like enough.

Chapter Text

Ralph pressed the latest voicemail on his phone, he’d meant to check it earlier but he’d been busy helping his daughter study. ‘Hey Ralph, Mike here.’ It began, from what it sounded Mike was walking somewhere. ‘Uh, I won’t be able to come into work today, I’m sick.’ Mike explained, followed by two obviously fake coughs.

‘So, yeah bye! Hopefully the animatronics aren’t too much trouble. Ew, bugs.’ The message continued. “Bugs? Where are you?” Ralph asked, briefly forgetting it was a recorded message. Ralph listened to the message for a few minutes, before deciding to speed it up. Clearly Mike had forgotten to hang up or something because, from the sped up recording, it was some southern voice talking, then Mike and them conversing.

‘People are born dying, atom by atom, decaying infinitely.’ Ralph heard the southern voice say, before the rest of the audio was muffled. “Wha..?” Ralph mumbled, speeding it up again for a few seconds before suddenly stopping it back at its normal pace, from the sounds of it the phone was in Mike’s pocket so it was still muffled, but Mike seemed to be shouting at someone about how they’d been lying to him. “Mike, remember to hang up next time.” Ralph mumbled, deleting the voice message and pocketing his phone, assuming he’d just been picking up voices from whatever show Mike was watching.

“Well, this can’t be that hard. Or at least not as hard as when I used to be doing the night shift, considering they aren’t attacking me.” Ralph mumbled to himself, he stood up and looked through the bookcase on the left of his chair for a book to read to pass the shift, considering it would probably be uneventful.

“They messed up my order!” Ralph said, aghast, realising the rows of books were in alphabetical and date order and recalling back to the time that person from corporate, Jamie, used Ralph’s office for a few days. “The order was perfectly understandable…” Ralph paused “...to me.” He finished, pulling out a few books and placing them on his desk with plans to rearrange the whole thing back to his own order.

“Aha!” Ralph exclaimed, pulling out the book he recognised. “The extended history of animatronics; From Ancient Greek automatons to Disney’s Audio-Animatronics to Fazbear’s Faz-Tech, by William and Andy Afton.” Ralph read outloud, the cover was of various cutting edge animatronics, coincidentally, practically all of them were made by Fazbear Entertainment employees, almost like having the Founder of Fazbear Enterprises and the then-Chief Technological Officer (Who was now director of the robotics department of Fazbear Enterprises) write a book about animatronic history would make it a little bias in Fazbear Enterprises favour.

The book was also hugely outdated since it was written before a lot of the recent advancements. There were no mentions of Afton Robotics’ advancements in artificial intelligence, the animatronics from Circus Baby’s, the new endoskeletons they’d begun producing, the master operations and tech node. Especially that thing, it was probably the most advanced animatronic in history.

Ralph was only three, or four, years old when the book had come out. But his father had decided to buy him it like a three year old could read. His father had always had some delirious idea that Ralph was going to become a master animatronic maker on par with, back then, the ‘ingenious Afton twins’. Even though, first off, they weren’t twins, and second off, from chatter at other locations Ralph used to work at, neither of them were especially smart in anything other than animatronics. And third off, Ralph was a child.

Ralph knew enough about animatronics, he worked in one of the factories for years under the apprenticeship of one of the most famed animatronic makers in the world, but that obviously wasn’t enough because that animatronic maker wasn’t one of the ingenious Afton twins, so it hardly mattered to his father. Nothing was ever enough for him. Even if he could list every word in this whole book off his heart, it wouldn’t be enough for his dad.

Ralph was snapped out his thoughts by sounds from the main party room. “It’s okay, Mike will deal with tha…” Ralph began muttering to himself, before remembering. “Right. No Mike.” Ralph remembered, placing the book on the desk, he’d have to educate himself another day and sort out whatever was happening first.

Ralph opened the door to his office and walked out the main party room. “Hey, can you guys keep it dow- What the hell?” Ralph paused, on one of the long party tables was a giant square pizza taking up the whole table. “Oh, hey Ralph!” Chica said, turning to him before turning back to the pizza, which Freddy, Foxy and Bonnie were also surrounding.

“How did you guys even do this?” Ralph asked, walking over to it. “How many ingredients did you use on this thing?” Ralph, also, asked. He had so many questions. “Oh, all of the ingredients.” Chica responded, casually. “Oh, okay. Hold on what?” Ralph said, turning to look at Chica. “All? What about the ones in the back of the cabinets?” Ralph asked.

“Used.” Chica responded, equally casually. “The ones in the freezer?” Ralph asked. “Used.” She responded. “The pantry.” Ralph asked, again. “All gone.” Chica nodded, still not even looking at him. “The secret freezer compartments.” He continued, surely Chica couldn’t have used all of the ingriden— “Used.” 

“How do you even know about that bit?” Ralph asked, annoyed. “I’m Chica, I have food X-ray vision.” Chica revealed, like that was obvious. “Hold on, seriously?” Ralph asked, Chica nodded. “Interesting.” Ralph mumbled, back in the early 2000s that wasn’t possible, another thing the book he had in his office obviously wasn’t caught up on.

“Okay, can you put ‘order new ingredients’ into the system?” Ralph asked. “Uh. Hold on.” Chica paused, squinting her eyes. “No.” She responded, opening her eyes again. “Huh? Why not?” He questioned. “Well, I’m not connected to the systems. It was a whole thing, Mike detached me from the node or whatever.” Chica explained, apparently she’d been attacking Freddy and Mike, or something, back then she was too distracted by the constant ringing in her head.

“He WHAT?” Ralph almost shouted the second word. “And it hasn’t torn you to pieces?” He inspected Chica like he was going to tap her and she’d fall apart into just her endoskeleton. “No? Should it?” Chica sounded quite alarmed at that idea. “Uh, no, of course not.” Ralph said, trying to make her not freak out, but if he was being honest. He would’ve said ‘yes’.

“Uh, Freddy, can you add buying ingredients to the system?” Ralph asked, turning to Freddy who was on the other side of the table. Freddy paused, and there was sparks of green text in his eyes. “Done!” He responded, causing Ralph to mumble ‘thanks Freddy’. There wasn’t really anything he could do, so he went back into his office and picked up the book.

“Back to reading…” Ralph said, sitting in his chair and opening the book to page one. “The history of animatronics has been a long and documented history. But at no point before has it ever been explored in one book in such detail. To the ancient automatons built from clockwork and puppeted by humans to…”

Ralph heard some sort of loud crashing sounds outside his office. “What the…” Ralph trailed off, placing his book down. He was only on page fifty, he slammed the book down on his desk and stood up. “This is the most stress I’ve felt in weeks.” Ralph said to himself, opening the door to the main party room.

In front of him, tables were flipped to act as walls(?). On one side, Freddy and Bonnie, and on the other side, Foxy and Chica, were shooting at each other with toy guns. “I don’t even… What… How do I even…” Ralph couldn’t even find the right words. “Shoot Ralph!” Foxy exclaimed, pointing the toy gun at Ralph.

“If anyone shoots me I’m reprogramming all of you.” Ralph threatened, completely deadpan, he wouldn’t really, but he could sure threaten it. Foxy paused. “Shoot each other!” Foxy decided, pointing back and firing towards Freddy and Bonnie. “Where did you guys even get…” Ralph paused halfway through, turning to the few arcade machines, the guns meant to be connected to the shooting game arcade were ripped off.

“Ingredients and fixing the machines, this is gonna cost a fortune.” Ralph said, putting his head in his hands. “Shit- You-” Ralph flinched back, noticing Security Puppet standing right next to him. “You’re so silent. It’s scary. Walk louder.” Ralph said, looking up at the thing, he then looked down. “Oh, you are floating.” Ralph noticed, looking back up then down to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Just stay ten steps away from me at all times.” Ralph decided, taking a few steps back. “I’m gonna be in my office for ten minutes, when I come back out I want this all back to normal.” Ralph said, to the animatronics, he walked back into his office and shut the door. “How does Mike deal with this?” Ralph asked, to nobody specifically.

The timer began ringing, Ralph looked away from his book, now on page seventy four, and pressed the ‘off’ button on his phone. “Ten minutes, I’m gonna walk out that door and everything will be normal.” Ralph said, not really believing everything would be, but hoping it would.

He walked to the door and opened it. At first glance, everything was normal. “Okay… This is good so far.” Ralph said, looking around what was actually a surprisingly clean main party room. “Hold on,” Ralph noticed. “Where are they all.” He asked, outloud, none of the main animatronics were in the room.

Ralph walked further into the room, looking around. “Is this the part where you guys turn back to being evil and attack me?” Ralph asked, outloud, thinking back to his time on the night shift weeks ago. “Security Puppet! Where are they?” Ralph asked, shouting to another side of the room where Security Puppet was inspecting shelves of prizes in the prize corner. It shrugged.

“Do you actually do anything security related? I’m seriously doubting it. If I took out a weapon you’d just like… shrug it off? I imagine.” Ralph said, doubtfully, maybe that was the reason the Security Puppets were phased out of usage, being absolutely and utterly useless. Then again, nightguards were pretty useless too, basically just cannon fodder to animatronics.

After all, that was why Ralph was taking practically all of the jobs in this pizza place. Originally, it was fully staffed, the CEO had pulled members from all sorts of locations, people who’d worked and dealt with animatronics for decades like himself. They took turns on the night shift, and over a short period of time they all resigned because the animatronics were too hostile, he’d kept in contact with one or two, they’d been moved to other locations, or been outright fired, a lot of them flocked to take jobs at other competitors.

All this did make Ralph wonder why the animatronics weren’t hostile anymore, he couldn’t describe his confusion the first time he watched Mike’s shift and he and Freddy just spoke with each other, all friendly, then the same with Chica, Bonnie and Foxy. The reasons why were all still lost on him, but he was okay with it because, well, they weren’t trying to kill anyone anymore.

Ralph paced through the pizza place, checking the storage room, parts and services,arcade, pirates cove area and the bathrooms. After not finding them there he went to the left hallway and peered into the small party rooms he walked past, he went through the security office to the right hallway but they weren’t in those rooms either.

He paused, noticing the door to the storage room in between the green coloured party room and the blue-maroon coloured party room was open. That door was only ever meant to be locked. “Shit…” Ralph muttered, quickly pushing open the door hoping they hadn’t went down… there.

It was a small room, there were piles of boxes and shelves lined up in each corner and around the room. Full of spare prizes, animatronic parts, decorations, uniforms and so on. But unfortunately, the animatronics weren’t there. He walked past a pile of boxes and found the staircase leading down behind it. When he’d placed the boxes in this room he’d taken care to try and have them hide the staircase, but obviously the animatronics had found it.

He walked down the staircase and into the darkness. He walked straight through darkness for around two minutes, thankfully managing to not trip down or anything. But eventually saw the light and walked towards it, the room brightened up. It was large and tall, easily bigger than the main party room, and it had tall, wide shelves and shelves of toys, animatronic parts, animatronic suits, props etc. Sometimes, on the weekends, Fazbear Enterprises employees would come and take some stuff to distribute them to other locations.

“Freddy! Foxy! Bonnie!” Ralph shouted, it echoed across the room but there was no response. “Dammit.” Ralph mumbled, looking up at one of the walls where there was a map of the place. “Distribution area, data centre,” Ralph read, pausing at the data centre and not reading the other locations. On the map, the way to the data centre was depicted as a magenta line. He looked on the floor and, low and behold, there was a magenta line.

“Hopefully they’re there.” Ralph said, turning and walking through the shelves, following the magenta line painted on the floor, he made note of the various things on the shelves. An animatronic dog, some creepy little ‘helper’ doll, a tiny Freddy etc, a Spring Bonnie suit (But, as Ralph knew, not the Spring Bonnie suit). Ralph knew a lot of those things were phased out over the years, but Fazbear Enterprises really didn’t like destroying their own stuff.

After a few minutes of walking, he ended up stumbling across the area. It was a row of desks with those white vintage computers, each of them had a small sticker on them detailing where they were from. For some reason, even as computer technology had increased, Fazbear Enterprises was insistent on using these things all the way up to 2018, just slightly upgrading them. 

He noticed one of them was on, maybe the animatronics had turned it on. He walked over and checked where it came from ‘Fredbear’s Family Diner’. “Jeez, old.” Ralph said, as he reached for the power off button his hand paused. He noticed an app open, he moved the cursor to the icon and opened it.

The laptop almost froze, there were copious amounts of tabs open, seemingly about Fazbear Enterprises history, key members of the Enterprises, etc. “What the…” Ralph mumbled, confused, he noticed a notification, checking it. ‘Information downloading to Node.exe. Eighty percent downloaded’. He scrambled and quickly turned it off, that thing was trying to learn about its past now? That was unsettling. 

But the animatronics weren’t here, he looked at another map plastered on the wall. The only other area was the entrance to The Underground, which, if the animatronics entered, there was no way Ralph was going to retrieve them. He followed the yellow line on the floor and made his way to the entrance.

Ralph noticed Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy after walking. “Hey! Stop doing that!” He shouted, as Freddy and Bonnie turned around but Foxy continued trying to pull on the door. “Oh, hey Ralph.” Freddy said, waving casually as Ralph ran to them, Foxy fell back, unable to open the door.

“How the hell did you guys get in here?” Ralph asked, aggressively. “The storage room door was unlocked.” Freddy shrugged, as Foxy stood back up. “Can you open this thing?” Foxy asked, using his hook to gesture to the door. It was solid metal and thick, with one of those wheels commonly found on bank vaults locking it off. Ralph knew all three of the codes he had to input to open the wheel, but there was no way he was gonna tell them that.

“No! Don’t go through there, it’s dangerous.” Ralph said, pushing himself in front of them and the door. “You can’t get through there without codes anyways.” He added, it wasn’t like the doors in the security office that they could just break through, the door was harder to open than a regular bank vault. They could slam into it for a solid week and still not get through.

“Look, follow the yellow line and get out of the basement, go play uno or something. You guys like doing that.” Ralph said, gesturing to the yellow line on the floor, after a few mumbles of annoyance, the animatronics went on their way. Ralph sighed, in relief they hadn’t tried more.

Ralph peered through the window on the door, the glass was too blurry to make anything out, but it looked like something was moving around in the room. “Hey, you.” Ralph said, knocking on the door twice as the figure stopped moving. “I don’t know what your aim is, but stop. Or I’ll get someone who can deal with you involved.” Ralph threatened, an empty threat, there were very few people who could deal with this thing, let alone any Ralph knew.

The wheel moved, unlocking slightly. Ralph flinched back. “Stop that.” Ralph ordered, his voice shaky. The wheel continued to rotate, Ralph knew it could be unlocked from inside without any issue. “I- I said stop.” Ralph reiterated, backing up. It didn’t stop. “Okay, I-I, uh, I get it,” Ralph continued to back up as the door unlocked.

“You’ve sufficiently intimidated me. Stop.” Ralph said, as the door unlocked and creeped open slightly. Before anything else could happen, the Security Puppet floated from behind Ralph, causing him to back up into the opposite direction. It felt like everything stopped as the Security Puppet stood in front of the door.

Then, suddenly, the door slammed shut and the wheel rotated back to normal. The silhouette through the window went out of view. “How did you…” Ralph whispered, shocked, as the Security Puppet turned back and followed the yellow line, Ralph also followed.

“So…” Ralph began, trying to make small talk despite the fact this thing didn’t speak. “You’re here to protect from that thing? The node?” Ralph asked, looking up at the tall animatronic. That made some sense, the node even seemed scared of it. The Security Puppet slightly nodded.

“Well, uh, thanks?” Ralph said, as they walked up the stairs and back into the storage room, he walked back through the main party room and into his office, sitting on his chair. “Finally, I can read in peace.” Ralph mumbled, picking up the book. “Actually, hold on.” Ralph paused, placing the book back down.

“This has been seventy four pages of boringness. I refuse.” Ralph decided, placing the book back in the bookshelf. “Who cares about Disney’s robot Abraham Lincoln? Not me.” Ralph said, rolling his eyes, he walked into the main party room and over to the animatronics playing uno.

“Hey, I’m joining.” Ralph said, sitting on one of the chairs. “Uh, okay.” Foxy said, giving him nine cards. “Who’s first?” Ralph asked. “Me!” Chica said, placing down a plus four card to Bonnie. Bonnie placed down a plus four card, then Foxy placed down a plus four card, then Freddy placed down a plus four card.

“Take…” Foxy counted the number of cards. “Sixteen, Ralph.” Foxy said, looking at Ralph. “Maybe I should have stuck to my book.” He mumbled.

Chapter Text

“And last christmas I got you… that pipe wrench.” Claire said, reading off from the notes app on her phone. “Whatever happened to that pipe wrench?” She asked, looking down at Mike. “Wha- What’s even a pipewrench?” Mike exclaimed, laughing nervously as he looked up from the TV remote he was tinkering with and trying to fix, recalling the pipewrench exploding due to Security Puppet.

“Didn’t you- uh- get that for my birthday?” Mike asked, trying to change the topic. “Oh, wait.” Claire paused, looking at her notes app. “You’re right…” She mumbled, realising she was looking at the birthday notes instead of the christmas notes. “Last christmas I got you that green hat, where is that?” Claire asked, looking up at the hat rack where it didn’t lay.

“It’s September, we don’t even need to be talking about Christmas gifts.” Mike said, suddenly, his tone sounding completely off. “Well, you’re the one who brought up Christmas.” Claire responded, not catching his suspicious tone of voice. “Yeah because they were doing reruns of Last Christmas before you broke the remote.” Mike argued, placing the back of the remote back on it.

“Remote fixed! Done! Boom!” Mike exclaimed, suddenly, pointing the remote to the tv and flicking through the channels. “Oh, Mike, you’re an angel in ways you don’t even know.” Claire said, thankfully (and easily distracted), reaching over and taking the remote from Mike to switch through the channels; News channel, news channel, sports channel, cooking show, a Fazbear’s commercial, before finally settling on a show about people with three lives hunting and killing each other as their lives decrease. The show was probably a metaphor for societal collapse, or something.

“Are you going to your job now?” Claire asked, looking up as Mike grabbed his badge from the table and clipped it to his shirt. “Uh huh.” Mike nodded. “That’s good, halfway through the week till the weekends. I’m planning to get an early night tonight. I'm going out with a friend for coffee at nine, so remember to bring your keys to unlock the door.” Claire said, Mike nodding and knowing they were in his bag.

“Okay, you have fun.” Mike said, walking to the door. “You too, don’t get arrested looking for a serial killer while you’re out.” Claire said, half jokingly, Mike didn’t reply and quickly rushed out of the house, making his way to the pizzeria.

“What… the hell?” Mike mumbled, looking up at the pizzeria which was adorned in Christmas decorations; christmas lights, christmas lights, and… more christmas lights. He made his way through the door, forgetting to lock it, and into the main room, where Freddy, Bonnie and Chica were setting up decorations.

“What are you guys doing? It’s not Christmas.” Mike said, as Freddy looked down at him and jumped off one of the tables with a mistle toe in hand. “You’re right, Mike. It’s not Christmas, it’s-” Freddy paused, grabbing a poster from the table and putting it in Mike’s hands. “Fazbear Christmas!” He exclaimed, doing jazz hands as Mike looked down at the poster which showed Freddy in a Santa costume.

“What?” Mike asked, looking back up. “Basically Christmas except Fazbear Enterprises celebrates it in September, and then celebrates actual Christmas again on, well, Christmas. For ‘maximum profits’.” Ralph explained, ripping off a tablecloth and replacing it with a green and red one, which he patted down.

“Oh. Corporate greed.” “Corporate greed. Exactly.” Ralph and Mike said, at around the same time. “It also means they can purchase Christmas decorations early, and reuse them for December. It’s all about cutting costs.” Ralph explained. “On that note. Mike, come with me.” Ralph said, gesturing for Mike to follow him as he dumped Christmas coloured tablecloths on the floor and walked off.

Mike followed him through into the storage room with a small stage, then into the employee breakroom where there was a small door leading outside, there were two trucks parked outside with the words ‘Fazbear Express’ on the side. “Hold on, the corporation buys Christmas decorations early to save money, from another Fazbear’s subsidiary, to save money?” Mike asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Ralph nodded, walking over to one of the trucks and peeling off the ‘Fazbear Express’, which was apparently a huge sticker, slightly. “And they use these trucks for delivery too by replacing the stickers.” Ralph revealed, casually, before walking up to the back of the van and opening it.

“Wow, lazy.” Mike mumbled, not surprised, since researching Fazbear’s he’d pretty much learned that, if one thing, they cut corners at every opportunity. “Yeah,” Ralph agreed, walking to the back of one of the trucks with Mike following, there were various cheap-looking Christmas decorations. Almost all of them with Freddy’s face on somewhere.

“The animatronics will decorate most of the place, they’re programmed to love Christmas, cut a little bit of manual labour out for us.” Ralph explained, grabbing a box of Christmas crackers with animatronic depictions Mike didn’t even recognise, even if most of them were all variants of the main gang. “They just can’t, like, go outside when special occasions, like Fazbear Christmas, are happening. Back in another location they had a Freddy animatronic wonder out right before a kids birthday, so they found it easier to just program all animatronics to not go outside before special occassions.” Ralph recalled, accounting for why they could go out at Fallfest but not now. 

“So we’ve gotta do the heavy lifting of these boxes into the pizzeria for them.” He explained. “I think corporate is scared they’d also, like, drop the boxes or something, and break stuff. I don’t know.” Ralph shrugged.

Mike picked up an open box of paper plates and plastic cups, the plates had depictions of Chica with a Santa’s hat on. “Can I steal some of these?” Mike asked, bluntly. “Uh, shoot, go ahead.” Ralph said, barely even hesitating. “I knew a guy back when I was working at Bonnie’s Bowling & Brunch who stole like,” He paused, putting his hand up to count. “Three Christmas trees, six jars of cookies, a bowling ball, a set of pins, four hundred in cash. Thinkin’ about it he was a bit of a kleptomaniac. Realising that after eight years, wow.”

“You just let him get away with that?” Mike asked. “We were being hunted by an animatronic who’d throw bowling balls at us some nights, stealing was… pretty eh in comparison.” Ralph said, putting things in perspective as he carried the box of Christmas crackers into the employees room.

“That’s fair…” Mike mumbled, following Ralph as he carried the box of paper plates and plastic cups into the break room, and putting a few in his bag.

“And that’s why Coppelia hates Christmas.” Ralph said, having finished an anecdote about his young daughter, having finished bringing in all the boxes hours ago. “I would too if you’d placed a giant animatronic in my room whilst I slept.” Mike responded, deadpan, picking up the coffee Ralph had brewed him. “Okay, look, when you put it like that. It’s bad. But I-” Ralph tried to defend himself, but was interrupted when Mike promptly spit out the coffee.

“What the- Did you even- Ew.” Mike stuttered, immediately running tap water and drinking it straight from the tap. “How strong do you have your coffee?” Mike asked, in between taking large sips of the tap water. “I put way more water in it than usual. I’ll have you know.” Ralph said, folding his arms and taking a sip of his cup of coffee.

“Sick. That’s sick. You’re gonna die of coffee.” Mike said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve like that would get rid of the taste. “Look, this stuff keeps me awake and able.” Ralph argued, finishing the cup in one long sip. “Don’t even talk to me about coffee anymore. I’m breaking that coffee machine.” Mike threatened, earning the response of ‘you’d fix it’ and a shrug from Ralph.

“Wanna go see if the animatronics have messed up decorating?” Ralph asked, suddenly. “I thought you said they were programmed to ‘do a perfect job’?” Mike recalled, raising an eyebrow. “I was lying.” Ralph responded, laughing slightly that Mike believed him. “I just wanted to do less work.” He admitted, placing down Mike’s cup after he’d drunk it too.

“I thought you were more… stuck up, then this.” Mike admitted, not able to word it in any less blunt way. “Rude, I’m plenty non-stuck up.” Ralph said, turning to the door back out into the main party room. “Can I have Friday off?” 

“Don’t push it.”

Mike and Ralph walked out into the main party room, which was surprisingly well decorated. The walls were adorned with Christmas lights and there was a mistle toe on the ceiling, and… 

“Okay, guys. Put up one Christmas tree, I said, how many are there?” Ralph said, disapproving like a parent would of a misbehaving child. “Uh, one?” Chica said, trying to brush it off. “How many are there?” Ralph repeated, same tone. “Six…” She mumbled, eventually, looking down, Ralph looked over as Security Puppet, the tallest one, reached up to place a star ornament on the top of one of the trees.

“You know what, sure. Who’s gonna complain about there being too many christmas trees?” He decided, although he could definitively picture half of the usual guests complaining about too many Christmas trees, but he wouldn’t be there for it. “Uh, Ralph, it’s actually Fazbear Christmas.” Freddy corrected, sitting on one of the seats.

“Don’t… Don’t push it, Freddy.” Ralph said, trying to ignore him. “Mike! We got you a present!” Freddy said, moving on, and towards Mike, with a small wrapped box in hand. “Where the hell did you guys even get the wrapping paper?” Ralph mumbled, they’d only ever ordered decorations, not actual presents, or wrapping paper.

“Wow! Really?” Mike asked, picking the present up and unwrapping it. Failing. Failing. Failing. Failing Failing.

“Wow you guys, uh, really wrapped this well-” Mike stuttered, trying to pull the bow apart. Failing. Failing. Failing.

“Like- really- super well!” He continued, still trying to pull it apart and failing. Failing.

“Jesus Christ, Mike, just-” Ralph grabbed a paperclip and sliced through the bow, ripping it off. “Easy.” He insisted, placing the paperclip next to Mike, who mumbled ‘showoff’ instead of ‘thanks’ and pulled the box open. “Oh my god! A pipewrench?” Mike asked, taking the pipewrench out of the box and inspecting it.

“I can’t believe you guys knew I needed one…” Mike mumbled, inspecting it. “We were kinda there when Security Puppet exploded it.” Freddy reminded. “Oh, right…” Mike mumbled. “Well, I didn’t get you guys anything, on account of not knowing about this till like four hours ago.” Mike apologised, lightly.

“It’s okay, Mike, we take payment in gold bars.” Freddy reassured. “Not happening.” Mike responded, instantly.

“Merry Fazbear Christmas, Ms. A-” One of the desk clerks said, Calliope paying no attention as she thanked them and walked past the office cubicles to the elevator. Event decorators were, well, decorating the place. Christmas lights and setting up trees and ornaments. She’d told them specifically to stay away from her office, she hated Christmas, and ‘Fazbear Christmas’.

She entered the elevator and pressed a button, top floor, her office. The doors came to shut, but someone placed their hand in the closing doors before they shut, pushing them open. “Jamie? I thought I’d sent you home.” Calliope mumbled, as Jamie inched into the elevator and she made room for them.

“I was printing out paperwork, the CEO asked you to look through the construction plans for some new locations.” Jamie reminded, holding up a pile of papers in their hands. “Right. Because she didn’t need my permission to build the pizza place in Emilville but she needs my permission on these.” Calliope mumbled, rolling her eyes as the elevator ticked up from the seventh floor to the fortieth.

“Okay, leave them on my desk.” Calliope said, as the elevator ticked up in silence.

“Aren’t we… going the same way?” Jamie pointed out. “I’m going to my office to sleep. It’s 5am.” Calliope responded, bluntly. “And you’re going to your house to sleep, right after you drop them off at my office.” She added, matter of factly. “Yes, ma’am.” Jamie mumbled, unsurprised.

After the elevator arrived at the fortieth floor, Calliope and Jamie walked, silently, to her office. Calliope slotted in the key and pushed open the door.

“What. the hell.” Calliope said, instantly. Her office was adorned in more Christmas decorations than Fazbear memorabilia. “Don’t like Fazbear Christmas?” Jamie asked. “No, I hate Fazbear Christmas.” Calliope corrected, walking in as she took in the lights, tinsel, ornaments hanging from her ceiling fan, a snow globe on her desk next to a small Christmas tree.

“This is why they should outlaw Christmas.” Calliope mumbled, Jamie couldn’t tell if she was joking. “Like Cromwell?” Jamie asked, jokingly, placing the paperwork on her desk. “I didn’t do history as a subject, Jamie, I don’t get that reference.” Calliope rolled her eyes, grabbing the Christmas lights and ripping them off one side of the wall as they sparked.

“Well, while we’re here, and it’s here…” Jamie began, picking up a Christmas cracker from the table and holding it out. “I said I hate Christmas.” Calliope reminded. “It’s impolite to not do it.” Jamie insisted, still holding it up. “Please?” They added.

“...Fine.” Calliope conceded, reaching onto the other side of the cracker and pulling it. It came apart, with Jamie holding the bigger piece. “Ha,” They laughed, deadpan, pulling out the paper crown. “I didn’t even want it.” Calliope mumbled, dropping the lesser part of the cracker into her bin and walking past to the side of her desk nearest the window.

“Don’t wear that paper crown in my presence.” Calliope said as she sat down. Jamie didn’t listen, uncrumpling and placing the purple paper crown on their hair. “Don’t I look great?” They asked. “Amazing, go home.” Calliope said, not looking up. “Do you wanna hear the joke?” Jamie asked, taking the small piece of paper out the cracker.

“Not particularly.” Calliope responded, taking a look at the paperwork. “What’s Dave short for?” Jamie read out, ignoring her response. “Davie, Davy, Davey, David, Davis.” Calliope listed, not missing a beat. “Because he’s got short legs.” Jamie finished, Calliope paused between shuffling the papers.

She chuckled slightly.

“You laughed.” Jamie said, feeling accomplished. “It was ironic.” Calliope defended, instantly. “Sureeee.” Jamie said, dragging the ‘e’ out. “Okay, fine, I laughed. I love Christmas. I love-” Calliope reached up and snatched the paper crown from Jamie’s head. “Hey!” Jamie exclaimed, not fast enough to stop her.

“Paper crowns.” She finished, placing it on her hair. “Look what you did, you turned me evil. Now I have a crown. Ho Ho Ho.” Calliope continued, clearly just wanting to prove a point, whatever that was. “Was that a Die Hard quote?” Jamie asked.

“Go home Jamie.”

“Yeah, okay…” Jamie mumbled, they turned back, paused, then turned back to Calliope and reached into their pocket, taking out a small gift. “It’s, uh, a Bonnie funko pop.” Jamie revealed. “I haven’t gotten you anything and we’ve been working together for six years, so, I thought I’d… uh, yeah.” They finished, awkwardly.

“Thank… you?” Calliope said, picking it up and inspecting each side of the wrapped present like Jamie hadn’t just told her what was in it. “Merry Fazbear Christmas, C.” Jamie said, turning back and walking to the exit. “Merry ‘Christmas’, Jamie.” Calliope mumbled, unsure if it was loud enough for them to hear.

“Should I send them money back, as a ‘thank you’? Is a thousand considerate?” Calliope mumbled, she hadn’t had to get christmas gifts for any of her family since their house burned down, nor the people she grew up with that tried to insist they were her family, ever.

“Early night, you said, Claire. Going out for coffee at nine, you said.” Claire mumbled to herself, opening the top kitchen cabinets and searching through them, unable to find what she was looking for as her Spotify shuffled through her playlist to some sort of Christmas song she didn’t remember.

“Not even Christmas.” She mumbled, trying to ignore it as she slammed one of the cabinets shut and opened another. “It was such a stupid, stupid idea. Fazbear Christmas.” She continued, opening another cabinet and looking through it as quickly as she could, her hand only banging into cups and plates and bowls.

‘Bells will be ringin' the sad, sad news.’

The singer began, Claire tried to ignore it. “Where the hell-” She continued, trying to ignore her head going to memories she scarcely wanted to recall, about the love of her life, about the losses of her life. Just about her life.

‘Ooooh, what a Christmas, to have the blues.’

“Your face was so stupid when you pitched the idea to me, ‘Christmas twice! Imagine the money we’ll save’.” She repeated, still remembering what he said to her. “You were a cheapskate, I guess you never really had much money to know a life-”

‘My baby's gone, I have no friends.’

 “-without having to save, and you were surrounded by me and Henry, both wealthy.” She mumbled, not affected by the lyrics, which seemed to reflect her life too accurately, as they interrupted her and she slammed another cabinet shut. “Your stupid bright purple eyes, so full of life till-” Her voice cracked, as she gave up and just fell on the floor, leaving one of the cabinets open.

‘To wish me good, once again.’

“Oh, William, where’d it go wrong?” She asked, outloud, she knew where it went wrong. She wished she had kept any pictures of him around, but it was too risky, Mike couldn’t know. And now he knew. So what was the point in burning them all?

‘'Choirs' will be singing, 'Silent Night'’

‘Christmas carol by candlelight’

She looked next to her, on the floor, her bottle of pills right there. “Oh, right.” She mumbled, she’d dropped them earlier, of course. She reached down and unscrewed the lid.

‘Please, come home for Christmas.’

‘Please, come home for Christmas.’

‘If not for Christmas by New Year's night.’

“Maybe you were right, maybe Mike would’ve been better off if he’d stayed with the both of us.” Claire questioned, she’d never had a habit of thinking about what-could’ve-been, only what-is. But in times like this what else was she to do? She unscrewed the lid and poured a few pills into hand, swallowing them.

The song moved on, lyrics passed that Claire barely listened to.

‘But this is Christmas, yes, Christmas, my dear.’

‘The time of year to be with the one you love.’

She missed Mike.

‘So, won't you tell me you'll never more roam?’

‘Christmas and New Year will find you home.’

“Happy Christmas, Will.” She mumbled, finally. It wasn’t Christmas. But maybe the thought counted some, as she placed the bottle back down, to forget about it later.

‘There'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain.’

‘And I'll be happy, happy once again.’

Chapter Text

“There are loads missing in this.” Mike mumbled, to nobody, having dumped half of the contents of Brownen’s notes on the office desk. “The Afton Robotics USB is recording seven. That means there should be…” Mike paused, briefly, doing the maths in his head. “Did I seriously just have to do that in my head? Maybe I shouldn’t have skipped maths class that one time.” Mike half joked.

“There should be six other USBs. Recording seven said that the other recordings were,” Mike looked to his small notepad, where he’d written it down. “Recording one about William Afton,” Mike read, his voice faltering. “Or… dad? I guess?” He considered. “Nope, no, William Afton.” He quickly decided, ‘dad’ just didn’t roll off his tongue.

“Recording two about Henry Emily, recording three about Andrew Afton, recording four about Fazbear Entertainment. So where are they?” He questioned, outloud. “And this folder seems way lighter than when I first found it.” He added, unsure what could account for notes going missing.

“What’s that?” Ralph’s voice asked, from behind, Mike immediately turned around and manoeuvred to stand in front of the papers, which was hard because he had dumped them literally all over the desk. He hadn’t seen Ralph since yesterday when they were setting up for ‘Christmas’. “What’s what?” Mike asked, trying to play dumb. “I- Right there.” Ralph said, trying to move past Mike but Mike quickly blocked him from picking up one of the pieces of paper.

“Right where?” Mike asked, staring right into Ralph’s eyes. “You can’t just keep repeating what I say but phrased as a question.” Ralph said, more disappointed Mike wasn’t better at lying. “I can’t just keep repeating what you say but phrased as a- Yeah, good point.” Mike nodded, he looked at a figurine of Bonnie on the desk and grabbed it, throwing it across the room out of the open door.

“What was that?!” Mike asked, his tone obviously exaggerated. “I watched you do that, I saw you throw that. Do you think I’m stupid?” Ralph pointed out, Mike opened his mouth. “Don’t. Answer that.” Ralph said, interrupting Mike before he could say anything. Suddenly, there was a large bang from the main party room.

“I’m not falling for it, Mike.” Ralph said, crossing his arms. “How would I even do that?” Mike pointed out. “Yeah, good point. We should probably go check that out.” Ralph agreed, realising that that was true, he turned to the door and walked out of it. Mike quickly picked up the paper pieces and put them back into the folder, then put the folder into his bag.

He quickly followed Ralph through the hallway, hoping Ralph had forgotten about all the notes somehow, magically. “What the hell?” Ralph asked, pausing at the end of the hallway, Mike did the same. On the floor, Foxy had a tear in his stomach peeking into his endoskeleton. There were also damage to his arms and his legs, further exposing his endoskeleton.

“Jesus.” Mike said, inspecting the ‘wounds’ and trying to decipher how he could possibly fix these. “What happened?” Mike asked, but Foxy made no reply on account of being deactivated. “Jeez, this is gonna be costly.” Ralph mumbled, disapprovingly. “Get him up, we’ll bring him into parts and services.” Ralph decided, ducking down and hoisting one side of Foxy up, Mike did the same.

It took a few minutes, but they managed to dump him onto the table. Ralph looked through the shelves, taking out what looked like bandages and wrapping it around some wounds. “What’s that?” Mike asked, curiously. “Faz-Tape.” Ralph explained, grabbing scissors and cutting a piece off once it was sufficiently wrapped around a wound. It took him five cuts.

“Basically, the tape will analyse the damage and…” Ralph paused, pointing to a bit of tape he’d cellotaped on, it was beginning to glow faintly green. “Change colours based on how bad the damage is.” Ralph explained, as the pieces of tape began to glow green and orange respectively. Although one piece of tape, the tape tied around Foxy’s chest, was glowing red.

“This was actually made by my mentor in 2004. People kept over or underestimating animatronic damage. He got angry. Invented this out of spite, it saves corporate loads. They have it patented, competitors have been trying to get their hands on how to make it for nearly two decades.” Ralph recalled, placing the tape down and unwrapping it from the chest.

“...Okay, the main damage is in the endoskeleton's spinal cord, I should be able to straighten it out. But the rest of these wounds aren’t really that bad. I’ll report this to corporate, but they dwell on things like these for weeks. They’ll probably just say to put him out of order for the time being.” Ralph guessed, recalling a time when he was working at one of the pizzeria’s - The Pizza Playground - and the children ripped apart some foxy model, corporate said they’d “send someone over as soon as possible”. The pizzeria closed down 3 years later with the animatronic as broken as it had been. Then Ralph was moved here.

“Do you want me to help?” Mike asked, willingly. “I- It’s fine, man. Foxy animatronics are my speciality.” Ralph promised. “Oh. Right. You’re also a mechanic.” Mike half mumbled, he’d usually forgotten about that. “What should I do?” Mike asked. “Uh,” Ralph paused, thinking about it. “Go see if you can figure out who did this, they’re probably more likely to admit it to you than me.” Ralph said, Mike mumbled something about that being true. Not hearing Ralph’s comment about ‘spending almost a decade in a factory just to have his mechanical ingenuity forgotten’.

“Freddy! Chica! Bonnie!” Mike exclaimed, upon walking into the main party room. No answer. “Guys!” He continued, dragging out the ‘s’ as he walked through, looking around with them nowhere in sight. “The one time I need you guys you aren’t setting something on fire.” He mumbled, picking up the security tablet he’d left on the table and using it to find the animatronics. “They’re in…” He paused. “Backstage.” He read out, it dawning on him that he’d never gone backstage before.

Using the stairs, he climbed up onto the main stage, no entrance in sight. The stage itself pushed into the wall slightly, for the curtains, but he couldn’t find any sort of entrance into the actual backstage area. He looked down at the security tablet, noticing that, whilst the wall was represented by a white line, there was a small gap, he lined himself up with it and noticed part of the wall was thinner in real life.

“Oh. Flush door.” Mike mumbled, pushing it back as it opened into the backstage area, which was significantly dustier than any other room, making Mike wonder how this much dust could accumulate if the place had only been open for five weeks. The long room was, beyond that, filled with cardboard cutout decorations, bushes, clouds, background decorations and what looked like spare instruments. Beyond that, there were board games, spare tables and chairs, it seemed like whoever placed everything had done it specifically so it was too much of a mess to look at the other side.

“Guys! I see you’re in here!” Mike shouted, looking down at the tablet where it showed the icons of the animatronics as on the opposite side of the room, which Mike couldn’t see as he made his way across the room, inching past everything stored inside. “Mike! Come here!” Freddy’s voice exclaimed, which Mike listened too as he eventually found the animatronics standing next to a pile of costumes, in some of them too.

“Mike! Look, we’re villains.” Freddy said, seeming accomplished. He was wearing a tuxedo and had a really obviously fake moustache on, presumably to twirl it. Chica was just wearing a chef's outfit. Bonnie was Bonnie. “You guys have no idea how bad this looks for you to say right now.” Mike said.

“Chica, why are you in a chef's outfit?” Mike asked, turning to her. “I’m Gordon Ramsay.” Chica responded. “He’s a villain to you?” Mike asked. “Actually! Nevermind,” He said, interrupting before Chica could open her beak. “Which one of you guys hurt Foxy?” Mike asked, confrontationally.

“Huh? Foxy?” Freddy asked. “I haven’t saw Foxy since…” Freddy paused, thinking. Bonnie scribbled something down on his notepad and showed it; ‘Since Mike was off’. “Right! Yeah! I haven’t seen Foxy since you had a day off, Mike. He didn’t help us decorate.” Freddy recalled, turning to Chica and asking if she’d seen him.

“I haven’t seen him! He helped me in the kitchen before Ralph told us to decorate, but I don’t remember him coming out.” Chica recalled. “None of you? Really?” Mike asked, raising an eyebrow, each of them shrugged. “That’s… strange.” Mike mumbled, the last time he remembered seeing Foxy was Fallfest, which felt like forever ago, or at least four months, even if it was just a few days ago.

“Maybe the cameras caught something?” Chica pointed out, which reminded Mike about the cameras. “Oh, right. I forgot about those.” Mike mumbled. “I don’t know how long they save recordings for. Maybe Ralph will know.” Mike considered, gesturing for everyone to follow him as they made their way back to Parts and Services.

“I mean, I shouldn’t really tell you, you’re meant to sign like three NDAs but the cameras do save recordings, up to like, forever.” Ralph admitted. “You know how the two hallways on opposite sides of the security office leave that weird space in between covered up by a wall?” Ralph asked, not waiting for a response and assuming Mike knew. “Purposeful architecture choice, practically every location has it, inside that ‘empty space’ they place a series of local cloud storage devices in which all camera footage is sent too.” Ralph explained.

“Hold on,” Mike said, as Ralph used a wrench to make minor adjustments to Foxy’s endoskeleton. “So they cut costs by using vans for multiple subsidiaries, buying bad products cheap, ect, but spend like thousands saving all camera footage, ever, in a location's history?” Mike asked, pointing out the obvious hypocrisy.

“Yeah, double standards, I know. Construction workers don’t even know about it, usually the only people who do are the location managers and the high echelons of corporate.” Ralph explained, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small silver key. “What’s that?” Mike asked, taking it as Ralph passed it.

“System access, plug in the tablet, then the key, and it should allow you to access the footage, the animatronics can’t come with you, though.” Ralph explained, turning back to the endoskeleton spinal cord as he struggled to twist it with his wrench. “Huh, why?” Mike asked. “The entrance is a hidden vent under the security office desk, they won’t fit.” Ralph explained.

“Guess you’re on your own, Mike.” Freddy shrugged.

Mike crawled out through the vent into a small room, with practically no lighting except the flashlight he was holding. He could see, through the dark, multiple large bulky boxes, which he recognised as cloud server devices. He’d tinkered with smaller versions back when he was young, he’d made one out of spare parts once, it could barely hold anything, 0.5GB from memory, but he did it nonetheless.

He noticed a small indent in one of the devices, which was much like the shape of the security tablet he was holding. He walked forward, placing it in as it attached, and stabbed the key into a nearby keyhole. The security tablet switched from a map of the pizza place to a list of dates, up to present day.

He clicked on yesterday; Thursday 9th September 2020. It switched to times; 12am, 1am, 2am, 3am, 4am, 5am, 6am, 7am, 8a- Mike picked 12am. He recalled getting into the pizzeria at around 12:37am, he’d been getting into a habit of coming a little late since Ralph had begun working alongside him.

The footage immediately, and coincidentally, began just as Foxy walked into the kitchen. “Well, that’s good timing.” Mike mumbled, he sped up the timing. Five minutes, nothing happened. Ten minutes, nothing happened. Till, at the fifteen minute mark, Chica walked out. As that happened, some sort of blurry figure walked in.

“Pause!” Mike exclaimed, pressing the pause button as the footage froze, quality downgrading slightly as Mike squinted his eyes. “That’s…” He paused. “That’s Sammy. How’d he-” Mike couldn’t finish his words as the tablet sparked and fell out of its slot, he jumped back in alarm as the footage disappeared.

“Oh, dang it!” Mike exclaimed, grabbing the tablet and slotting it back in. ‘Footage lost.’ It said, big white text on a black screen. “What do you mean footage lost? Unlose it!” He exclaimed, like it could hear him, it didn’t and the tablet stayed on the black screen. “Why would Sammy do that? How would Sammy do that?” Mike asked, outloud.

He spammed the buttons on the security tablet, in case that would do anything, but after a minute or so of pressing it, nothing happened. “Great.” Mike half mumbled, pulling the security tablet out of the slot and then the key. “Okay, Mike, you’re great at lying, come up with a lie.” Mike mumbled to himself, picking his flashlight up and walking back over to the vent.

Once he’d climbed out from it;

“So…” Ralph motioned, waiting for an answer. “Eek! Aren’t you fixing Foxy?” Mike asked, shrinking back slightly once he’d stood up. “I did all I could do.” Ralph half shrugged. “If corporate just sent us some Foxy metal, we could fix him up, but that large tear in his chest is… costly, and Foxy isn’t that popular with the kids.” Ralph reminded, essentially what he told Mike earlier.

“So…” He repeated. “What happened to Foxy?” He asked. Mike opened his mouth to speak, thinking, telling Ralph wouldn’t be a good idea, he wouldn’t understand. He wouldn't get it. “The footage was… corrupted.” Mike responded, finally. “Corrupted? Seriously?” Ralph asked, Mike couldn’t tell if he didn’t believe it or if he was just surprised. Or both.

“Y-Yeah.” Mike nodded, trying to sound as convincing as possible. He was used to lying to Claire, he’d been doing it for years, but he could never get used to lying to someone he barely knew. It, ironically, made him feel dishonest. “Weird, I’ve never heard of them doing that. But I guess it was bound to happen eventually.” Ralph said, after a beat of silence.

“We’ll just say he slipped, maybe once he’s online he’ll remember more.” He decided. “Yeah, once he’s online.” Mike agreed, as Ralph walked off. “Oh!” Ralph said, peeking back into the security office. “Key!” Ralph reminded. “Right.” Mike said, throwing the managerial key to Ralph, who caught it. “Thanks!” He said, already out of view again.

After a few seconds, Mike pressed the buttons on both sides as the security office doors slammed shut. He looked back down to his bag and took out Brownen’s folder, dumping the papers on the desk. “All the recordings are still missi-” Mike paused, seeing the reflection of Security Puppet on one of the monitors.

“Okay! How are you doing that? Can you teleport?” Mike asked, turning back and backing up to the desk slightly. “It appears,” Security Puppet began, still in the same unsettling child-like voice that spoke when its mouth didn’t move. “I have misjudged you.” It finished, finally.

“I said you wanted to know for the sake of knowing. Not to help. I thought you wanted this. But you… offered to help Gabriel. You didn’t need to do that.” Security Puppet explained, still way too close for Mike’s liking like it was last Friday. It used ‘Gabriel’, not ‘Freddy’. “T-Thanks?” Mike mumbled.

Security Puppet reached out its hand and opened it, fingers unsettlingly long. There were USBs, marked with numbers, and pieces of paper. “You- You stole my stuff?!” Mike exclaimed, snatching it from the animatronic. “I needed to learn. Not all of it.” Security Puppet explained.

“Wait, wait. You didn’t need to learn all of it, or you needed to learn, but didn’t steal all of it. Semantics are important.” Mike asked, two completely different meanings. The animatronic didn’t reply. “Okay. Um, well thanks.” Mike nodded. He turned back to dump the USBs on the desk, and when he turned back; Security Puppet was gone.

“Creeps me out.” Mike mumbled, looking back at the USBs. “Well, since I’ve got them.” He decided, picking up the USB with a ‘7’ on it, if he remembered correctly this one was about Andrew Afton. He put the USB in his phone, and an audio file began playing, immediately. Brownen’s voice, again.

“Okay, I’m recording this using my phone, if you don’t mind?” Brownen began, like she was talking to someone. “Uh, sure. Fine. Don’t you know shorthand?” Another voice began, one Mike didn’t recognise, it sounded older, like someone in their fifties, a male voice definitively.

“Ah, it’s a dying art. I want to be able to quote what you say with accuracy, Mr. Afton.” Brownen responded, sounding like she was already annoyed with the other voice. “Andrew is fine. Thanks. That’s all I’d like to go by, thank you.” The other voice responded. It clicked, this was Andrew Afton, the Head of Afton Robotics, the guy who made the animatronics. It was an interview, not just Brownen talking about him.

“Apologies, Andrew. I’m a new journalist, I’m sure you’ll understand.” Brownen responded, trying to mask an anger, Mike could tell. His mother did it all the time. It was a lie, Mike knew Brownen had been in the journalistic game for decades, since her and Claire got out of school, at least. Claire had said so.

“Oh, it’s very noticeable. Not sure why they’d send someone like you to interview someone like me, but that’s fine.” Andrew responded, clearly he had some sort of level of self importance. Maybe that’s why he didn’t do interviews, Mike hadn’t done any research about him yet.

Awkward silence in the audio.

“Right. Anyways.” Brownen began. “You’ve been in this company for a very long time, correct? You joined in 1983, they called you the ‘ingenious Afton twins’ in 1985, you and Willia-” Brownen recalled, Andrew interrupted.

“Lets not talk about my brother.” He said, sounding matter of fact. “We both know all this, I’m sure you can fit it into the papers without wasting my time. It’s on the company website. Anything interesting to ask me?” He asked.

Brownen let out a laugh, annoyed, awkward. “Right. Sorry.” Mike could practically hear her grating her teeth. “In 1995, you sold your shares and went to work for a Fazbear Entertainment competitor, right?” Brownen asked, but didn’t wait for a response. “But in,” She paused, probably looking through papers. “2006, you were hired by the previous CEO to direct the Afton Robotics Department following its acquisition by Fazbear Entertainment, right?” She asked.

“Yeah, again, public information.” Andrew responded.

“Why? I mean, the Sunday Times has you quoted in 1995 as saying ‘I will never work with that company ever again, they can go-’, and then you say around eight very explicit words I cannot repeat if I want this published.” Brownen said, obviously reading from something. 

“Change of heart.” Andrew excused, immediately.

“Big change of heart. Did you quit because of William, because of his murdering?” Brownen asked. That was blunt, Mike was surprised.

“He was never admitted with that in a court of law.” Again, Andrew’s response was immediate.

“No, and it actually never,” Brownen said, Andrew was saying something, angrily, but Brownen’s voice drowned it out. “Made its way into the public eye. Like it was being covered up, even more so in present day, like some massive multi-billionaire corporation had covered it up and paid off news corporations to rewrite their own history, or something?” Brownen asked, implying the obvious.

“Do you even work for the BBC? I’m- Who the hell do you think you are?” Andrew asked, it sounded like he was standing up.

“You were born on the 21st of November 1965, William was always the ‘golden child’ right, your school friends said so? You did drugs too. I mean, one of your dealers is still serving prison time today, but he said you owed him upwards of five hundred to them alone, imagine how much you owed to all the drug dealers?” Brownen continued, it sounded like she was also getting up, maybe to intimidate him.

“Fuck you! Don’t contact me again! Ever.” Andrew said, the sound of footsteps. Probably him walking off.

“Andrew! Did you know about your brother's murders when they were happening? Were you aware of them? Did you kno…” Brownen trailed off, it seemed she’d followed Andrew away from her phone to the point Mike couldn’t hear her voice, but it all seemed to be the same question, just rephrased. After a second, the audio cut out. Brownen’s voice came back.

“Okay, all in all, I probably should’ve leaned him into those questions.” Brownen mumbled. “Recording three, Andrew Afton. The interview you just heard was conducted Thursday July 16th, by me, under the false identity of BBC journalist Lucy Delmore. The rest of this tape will be covering and detailing Andrew’s background and any other knowledge.” Brownen began.

“Thank God Foxy is the least popular of the gang.” Ralph mumbled, pulling the purple curtains of the Pirate Cove’s stage closed, obscuring the still deactivated Foxy from view. He grabbed the white sign and planted it on the ground through a combination of cellotape and glue.

He took out a black marker, and wrote down in large text ‘SORRY!’, then below it, in smaller text. ‘OUT OF ORDER’. “That sound do it.” Ralph mumbled, putting the lid back on the marker. “They call me a genius.” He said, mentally patting himself on the back.

Chapter Text

“I win, again.” Chica said, placing down her last Uno card. “Okay, you’re seriously way too good at this.” Foxy said, slamming his Uno cards onto the table, which included three plus fours. “Why didn’t you-?!” Ralph gestured to the cards and back to Foxy. “I was waiting for the perfect moment to strike!” Foxy responded.

“Well, you didn’t do a very good job at it.” Mike mumbled, placing his cards down. “Hey! Excuse you.” Foxy exclaimed, crossing his arms as Chica reached around the table to pick up the cards. “Can we do something else? If Chica wins one more time I’m gonna… I don’t know.” Freddy shrugged.

“I mean, Foxy you were broken earlier today, can we talk about that?” Freddy asked, gesturing to Freddy. “I told you, I don’t remember how it happened, just like… that whole day is blank.” Foxy said, gesturing to his head and tapping on it twice, like it would echo and be hollow.

“I should be way better at this game…” Ralph mumbled, not listening to the conversation as he looked down at his cards. “I mean when I used to work in the factory I’d always win, like, always.” He iterated. “I think my boss was just bad at it.” He added. “You bring that job up all the time. We get it, you worked in a factory.” Foxy commented, harshly.

“I do not!” Ralph argued, immediately. “Kinda do.” Mike agreed, somewhat quiet. “Okay, I… go away.” Ralph mumbled, not finding it necessary to continue. “I mean, you could… tell us about it?” Mike asked, trying his best to not sound suspicious, in reality he was just attempting to get some information about the past of Fazbear Entertainment out of Ralph.

“Eh, I mean… I really shouldn’t.” Ralph said, resistant. It took Mike a few minutes of convincing.

“Okay! Fine! What’s the worst that could happen?” He conceded, thinking back. “Okay, so the year was… Jesus, the year was 1999. I’d just passed my final school tests and needed a job at sixteen. Nobody wanted to hire me, but I heard they were hiring for some ‘recently opened animatronic factory’. The pay was horrible, and estimations placed the company as probably going bankrupt in ten to fifteen years, but I needed a job. So I began working at Fazbear Entertainment’s Fredbear’s Factory…”

“Okay, now screw the screws in there and there…” One of the senior employees said, gesturing to two points between the arm and torso of the endoskeleton. Ralph reached the screwdriver forward and did both. “Okay, good,” He mumbled. “Uh, what about that screw?” Ralph mumbled, meekly, gesturing to a third screw.

“Nah, you leave that one. The manager says so.” The employee responded, gesturing to an elevated room accessible by a dangerous looking staircase, where there was a window into what appeared to be an office, connected to a small balcony overseeing the production line.

“But, won’t the skeleton break?” Ralph asked, looking back at the other employee. “I don’t know, man, they drop it in lava or something.” The employee said, again gesturing to large pots of lava, with an endoskeleton slowly being lowered into it on chains. “Is that standard?” Ralph asked.

“Hell if I know. All I do is screw stuff. You think anyone here cares to know how things works besides the big man upstairs?” The employee asked, dismissively. “I mean… I just feel like-” Ralph went to say, but was quickly interrupted. “What are you? Gay? Just do your job, no need to question everything.” The employee interrupted, laying the screwdriver next to Ralph and walking off before Ralph could mumble out an apology.

“Rude…” Ralph mumbled, picking up the screwdriver as the conveyor belt brought over another endoskeleton with two detached arms, and paused in front of him, and the other people surrounding him doing similar work. Most of them were also new, he recognised a few of them from school, bullies, mostly.

The process repeated; Endoskeleton comes down, armless. Conveyor belt pauses. Arms screwed on. Conveyor belt resumed. Ralph was a little slower than the others, which was ironic considering he probably knew the most about animatronics out of anyone here. Except the more senior employees. Maybe it was just a new work environment slowing him down.

After a while of the process repeating. The conveyor belt paused, and didn’t resume. “Aw, shit. Again.” Someone next to Ralph mumbled, looking a little older than him. “Again?” Ralph asked, not meaning to say it outloud. “Yeah, this happens sometimes.” The other person responded, placing down his screwdriver.

“Someone needs to go up there and get you know who to restart it.” He said, pointing upwards to the office. Ralph noted nobody had actually said this manager's name yet, like it would summon him. “Get one of the new guys to do it.” The person who had taught Ralph the screwing said, his eyes landing on Ralph.

“You do it!” He ordered. “Me? Why?” Ralph asked, immediately, not liking that idea. “You seem confident.” He said, not at all meaning it, he’d clearly identified Ralph as someone who was unlikely to say no. “I…” Ralph went to argue. “Fine.” He conceded. He walked towards the staircase to the office, briefly hesitating, before walking up there.

He got to the door, stepping onto the balcony, and knocked twice. There was no response. Knocked again. No response. He paused before his third time, and leaned against the door to try and hear in. There was a southern voice, and a voice speaking the Queen’s English. 

Against his best ideas, he creaked the doors open slightly and peered in.

The southern voice was a blonde man, older than he was by at least two decades, who seemed to be the elusive factory manager judging by his mechanic style outfit. The other person speaking in Queen’s English, Ralph couldn’t pin, but seemed around the same age as the factory manager. He was walking with a cane, which didn’t make sense for a man of his age.

“...oh, who cares what they have to say?” The southern man asked, to the other, clearly Ralph wasn’t catching the full conversation. “Money cares, Henry.” The man responded, saying the name ‘Henry’ in a way people with a history together certainly would. “You promised us, when you began this factory project, that you’d get results, your results suck. Your endoskeletons are good, but they aren’t Afton Robotics quality. Your animatronics are good, but they aren’t Afton Robotics quality. Your-” The other man continued, listing three things Ralph couldn’t recall in the future.

“Prescott, this factory has been open for six months, give us time.” Henry argued, sounding like he was trying his best not to get angry. “I am willing to give you time, Henry. But the board aren’t, we’re a failing company and shareholders are talking about jumping ship to any number of competitors, this company is done, quite frankly. My investment advisors tell me to leave now, sell the shares whilst they still mean something and take my leave.” Prescott responded.

“I’ll get results, Prescott. I’m good at this, I’m the best there is, and you know it.” Henry insisted, waving a wrench about like that would make his point any clearer. “William’s better, Andrew’s getting there, so I hear.” Prescott argued, by this point Ralph had deduced he represented Fazbear’s Board of Directors, as a shareholder himself.

“Oh, so your first plan is relying on the Afton in charge of Afton Robotics, and your back up plan is relying on the Afton helping a competitor. Genius, good job, gold star.” Henry quipped, sarcastically. “Oh, grow up!” Prescott said, looking like he was about to shout before pausing. “Ugh, just…” He paused. “I support your endeavours entirely, if it was up to me I’d get you the funding to open ten of these factories, but the board are doubtful, your public image has suffered greatly, and if William finds out about it so help us all.” He continued, not looking directly at Henry.

“Look, Prescott.” Henry began, walking slightly closer. “You wanted to be free of Afton Robotics, they’ve made you dependent on them to the point your own engineering department is basically obsolete. I can fix that, if you give me time. I just need time.” He promised. “I can’t… There’s nothing I can do, Henry. I’m- I’m pulling out the company.” Prescott admitted.

“Oh, Prescott. Don’t be that way.” Henry replied, instantly. “You convinced me, back in the eighties, that this company was the best thing I could ever invest in. And it’s been great, I trusted you. It’s brought me millions. But I can’t find it worth going any further. Sorry.” Prescott apologised. “Without you they’ll shut me down!” Henry pointed out.

“I’m sorry.” Prescott said, about to turn to the door, Henry grabbed his arm. “Just. Please. For old times sake. I’ll get the board something, end of this month. Actually, right now, even.” Henry said, turning to his desk and searching through the cupboards frantically. “Try these.” Henry said, taking out what looked like glasses, with a few wires poking out. Purple lenses.

“This isn’t animatronic tech.” Prescott mumbled. “It’s tech, they’ll be impressed. None of them know anything about animatronics, Arthur’s impressed by anything if you explain it like it’s complex.” Henry insulted, with Ralph presuming Arthur was another board member. Prescott placed the glasses on.

“Holy…” He mumbled, looking around like the whole room had changed. Nothing had happened. “What is this? Is that Freddy?” Prescott asked, looking to a location where there most certainly wasn’t a Freddy model. “It’s virtual reality.” Henry responded, casual. “Those headsets are huge, these are just glasses.” Prescott replied, pulling them down to compare what he saw with and without them on.

“Told you, I’m the best there is.” Henry said, folding his arms, accomplished. “Okay, fine, I’m impressed. I won’t pull out, my advisors will hate it but…” Prescott trailed off. “And I’ll try to get you some more funding, just get us some results, in animatronics.” He added, pocketing the glasses and turning back with his cane to the door. Making his way past Ralph, standing outside the door who he barely even acknowledged.

“Impolite to eavesdrop, you know.” Henry said, finally, not even looking towards Ralph. Ralph tensed up, opening the door fully and stepping in. “Uh, I- I’m sorry. Mr…?” Ralph paused. “Emily.” Henry responded. “Em-Emily? As in…” Ralph paused again, Henry scoffed. “Yes, as in the Emily family you are thinkin’ of.” He responded, like he’d got that question before.

“Aren’t you guys like wealthy?” Ralph asked, again, against his better judgement. “My cousins are wealthy, different family branches. I’m rich, there’s a difference.” Henry corrected. “What happens when you don’t get taught economics then come into millions as inheritance. You lose it.” He added, sounding annoyed.

“Anyways, what do you want from me?” Henry asked. “Uh, the conveyor belt stopped.” Ralph said, quietly, although noting Henry wasn’t as scary as the factory workers made him out to be. “Ugh, again, seriously? Why do I even try to help this company?” Henry sighed, rolling his eyes and reaching for a red button, when pressing it, Ralph saw from the window that the conveyors promptly resumed activity.

“There, done. Go back to working.” Henry ordered, sitting back down on his desk and grabbing a small mechanical object Ralph didn’t have the intelligence to identify, beginning to tinker with it. “Uh, yes sir!” Ralph nodded, turning back and going down the staircase to his jo—

“Okay, this is boring.” Foxy interrupted, swinging his hook through the air like it would cut through Ralph’s story. “Foxy! That’s rude!” Mike exclaimed, shushing him. After a pause of silence; “He’s right, through, Ralph. This is boring. Can you skip ahead?” Mike asked, although this was the first he’d heard about Henry Emily from someone who’d met him, it didn’t seem that valuable of information.

“Okay, uh, when do you want?” Ralph asked. “How long were you working at the factory?” Foxy asked. “Uh, like… six to seven years. From mid 1999 to 2006.” Ralph said, counting on his fingers to recall. “Okay, skip to 2006.” Foxy ordered. “Right. So,” Ralph continued.

Henry threw pages and pages of paperwork from his desk onto the ground, grabbing a lighter and setting half of it ablaze as best he could. “Are you insane? What the hell?” Ralph asked, trying to pull him back and failing, you’d think after working in a factory for so many years he’d be stronger.

“You don’t get it- You-” Henry stuttered, pushing Ralph back and searching through his desks frantically, like an insane person, his hair was messy. “You don’t-” He continued, pulling a whole drawer out as its contents poured onto the ground. He grabbed a hammer and began smashing them apart, franti—

“Okay, backtrack.” Mike said, cutting through Ralph’s recalling. “Let's roll back the clock to like… a few months after you began working there. Something interesting.” Mike said, he wanted to get the full story about Ralph’s employment as nonsuspiciously as possible. But also fast, because he was impatient.

“I was kinda invested in that.” Foxy pointed out. “We’ll be invested in that when we get the context.” Mike said, shushing him, and turning back to Ralph. “Okay…” Ralph mumbled, before coughing and continuing.

Ralph drilled the screws into the endoskeleton for what felt like the ten thousandth time, and what probably was the ten thousandth time at this point. Everyone on his segment of the conveyer belt looked as bored as he was, a constant cycle of screwing that barely made sense; Not that anyone except Ralph knew how mechanics worked anyways.

He was absorbed in the motions when, during a brief pause in the conveyor belts motion of moving endoskeletons, he spotted Henry walking down the staircase. He hadn’t saw him since the last time, even when Ralph got here early Henry had always got here early enough to avoid him. He’d began to theorise Henry slept in his office.

The man looked tired, and like he hadn’t learned a single self care tip in his entire life. He was also unshaven, which Ralph would, in his later years, notice was a tendency shared by another high level Fazbear Entertainment employee who handled the mechanics side of things.

Ralph tried his best to work like he wasn’t being watched by Henry, who looked at what he and the others were doing with some form of interest. “Who the hell taught you to screw like that?” Henry mumbled, peering at him. “Uh, um,” Ralph stuttered, almost immediately, confused by the question.

“It was, uhm, me, Sir.” Someone spoke up, the one who’d taught him. “Well, why’d you teach him to do it wrong?” Henry asked, sounding annoyed, and especially southern. “Uh, I-” The man stuttered, nervous. “Jesus Christ, that’s… so wrong.” Henry said, peering towards another who was in the process of screwing. But most of them had stopped now, it was far more interesting seeing their boss practically curse someone out.

“You’re fired, get out.” Henry said, harshly. The man opened his mouth to argue, but didn’t complete his comment, he said a few select words to Henry that wouldn’t be acceptable to say in modern times, then made his way outside the factory past the cauldrons of lava. Henry rolled his eyes.

“Here, everyone watch.” Henry said, gesturing to himself. He stood behind Ralph, and grabbed his arms, moving them to screw the screws in how he intended, which, safe to say, was nothing like they’d all been taught. “You all get that? Used your eyes well? Ignore however anyone’s taught you, and do that. Okay?” Henry asked, triggering collective mumbles of ‘yes’ and ‘uh huh’.

“And if you don’t know how to do your jobs, ask the guy who's hiring you to do your jobs, for god sake.” He added, before moving away back towards his office. 

“You were all doing your jobs wrong for months?” Chica asked. “Five months, to be exact. Apparently, I heard this from my friend Alex that Fazbear Entertainment is still finding those faulty endoskeletons across locations, they have like six lawsuits pending due to the safety concerns.” Ralph explained.

“Wait, so, that’s the first time he went out of his office in five months?” Mike asked. “No, no. He went out before, but rarely. He didn’t involve himself with the employees till after then. He told me corporate was docking the factory funds again so he had to ‘get everyone to work to their full potential’, or something.” Ralph explained, taking a bite from the pizza slice on the table.

“Hey, Freddy, isn’t that the pizza you licked?” Chica asked, causing Ralph to immediately drop the pizza slice and gag.

“You kinda watched him do that, Ralph.” Mike pointed out. “I was in the moment of explaining my life, Mike!” Ralph exclaimed, grabbing another pizza slice from the box that hadn’t been touched by Freddy’s mechanical tongue. “What happened next?” Mike asked, having silently turned on his phone's recording app.

“Uh, I mean, let me think,” Ralph paused. “I think the next time we spoke in any meaningful way was when he asked me to help him work on some new animatronics, apparently he’d checked and I was the only one with an actual mechanics qualification who was employed except him. This was around three months later.” He explained.

“Wait, you made animatronics?” Mike asked, surprised.

“Back in the late nineties. No, wait, by this point it was… 2000? 2001?” Ralph estimated. “Back in that year, the Board of Directors was concerned about how much the company relied on the founder,” Mike noticed Ralph didn’t use William’s name, theorising it meant something, maybe they’d met. “Not just because of Afton Robotics, but because he owned the rights to the likeness of all the animatronics. So, they wanted some new better animatronics,” Ralph explained.

“Hey!” Freddy exclaimed.

“No offense, guys. No replacing the originals and so on.” Ralph reassured. “I mean, they got phased out after like a few months of usage.” He insisted, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “I heard the guys, the other factory workers I mean, called them the,” He paused. “Mediocre Melodies.” He said, mockingly, making a quoting gesture.

“On account of them being mediocre. But their actual group name was always meant to be the Melodies.” Ralph explained, then launching back into the anecdote about his life.

“Okay, hold it still. And when I say still. I don’t mean like this,” Henry paused, waving the purple painted bulky robotic arm overly shakily. “I mean like this.” He paused, holding it completely still, before passing it to Ralph. Ralph held it, still physically weak back in those days; the shift in the factory surprisingly didn’t train the muscles especially well.

“Is this good..?” Ralph asked, trying to hold it as sturdy as possible. Henry pushed it in slightly closer to the armless hippo animatronic, before picking the screwdriver up from the table and beginning to screw at specific points. Ralph, even with his then limited knowledge about animatronics, was stumped by Henry's mechanical tactics, the guy seemed miles ahead of him. Ralph wouldn’t meet someone who came close to that level of mechanical ingenuity for decades to come.

“So, uhm,” Ralph began, trying to make small talk. “Why me?” Ralph asked. Henry didn’t even look up from screwing the arm; “You know mechanics, I assume you know enough to help out slightly.” Henry responded, as the arm made a sound like it had latched into place. “Other arm, other arm.” Ralph ordered, he spun around the chair which held the animatronic and passed Ralph the second arm, which he held in place.

“Yeah but, is that it?” Ralph asked.

“Pretty much.” Henry agreed.

“Oh,” Ralph tutted, quietly. There was awkward silence following that, a long awkward silence, before Henry continued.

“But I do see something in you. I’m not gonna say you remind me of a younger me, because you don’t. I was loaded and had started a business by the time I was your age, I was making advancements in animatronic technology that people still haven’t matched nowadays, I,” Henry gestured to the lower half of Ralph’s face. “Shaved.” He finished.

“But, I do think there’s something in you. Potential. You’re awkward, and weak, and you’re not the best at anything. You’re not gonna win any awards for this.” Henry continued, seemed more like he was just listing every bad quality Ralph had, Ralph had heard enough of that from his father. “But I’ve met people worse than you. I think you really want to do good in whatever work you choose, I think you really will try your best to do anything you set your mind to, I can’t say many people like that exist still, you get me?” Henry said, pushing the arm in place as it latched onto the body of the animatronic.

“Here, look, look,” Henry said, patting him on the shoulder and gesturing through the windows of his own office to the conveyors and the people working below. “Those aren’t people who want to do their best. They’re people who wanna make their money and go home, I think you wanna make your money and go home, too. But I think you wanna do that so you can tell whoever’s waiting for you that you did your best on the way back, right?” Henry asked. 

“I-” Ralph stuttered, awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “Uhm,” He opened his mouth before closing it. He’d never had someone believe in him like this before. “I have nobody,” He stuttered out. “Waiting for me,” he continued. “At- at home. I mean. I-” He said it all before he could censor it, that was such a stupid response, he cringed at the memory even decades later.

“What? Ya don’t? No school sweetheart? No mom? No dad?” Henry asked, looking at him again. “No not… any who are excited to see me.” Ralph managed to admit. “My mum died when I was young. My father could care less about me, all he does is drone on about how I need to do better, do more than I’m doing. And when I do more I need to do more again.” He admitted.

“Nonsense! All parents care about their children.” Henry insisted. “Someone tell my father that.” Ralph quipped, sarcastically.

“I’m serious, you know. All parents care for their children, I would give anything for my child to talk to me again, they are my heart. I’m sure your dad feels the same, you just gotta talk to the guy.” Henry explained. “I mean I,” He paused, sensing Ralph was uncomfortable with the conversation. “Sorry, sorry.” He apologised.

“Here, look, the next animatronic on our roster. The main guy in the Melodies.” Henry said, he reached to his cluttered desk and picked up a mask; Freddy, but with noticeably lighter skin. “Is that not just Freddy?” Ralph asked.

“Don’t insult my craftsmanship. This is Nedd Bear.” Henry corrected. “Legally, completely different.” He explained. “We reckon it’ll be easier if we keep a bear as the main mascot, that and so many locations have bear imagery that it'd be pretty costly if we replaced it with like a crocodile or something. I mean, seriously, who’s gonna make a crocodile animatronic?” Henry asked, laughing slightly.

“What next, a wolf?” Ralph joked back.

“After that I’d call it a friendship, although I don’t think he would. He taught me more about animatronics than my teachers did when it was my whole syllabus.” Ralph recalled, by this point everyone except Mike had walked off to fulfil various other endeavours; eating, fencing, cooking, treasure hunting, crossword puzzles.

“So, was he a genius?” Mike asked, trying his best to not make it sound suspicious.

“Oh, yeah yeah. Definitively. He had weaknesses, obviously, finances ironically were not his strong suit. But in engineering he might’ve been unmatched, and he knew how to get what he wanted. Whenever a board member would visit he’d play them like a fiddle to get what he wanted. He told me it was hereditary, a member of each family generation would be born with an IQ off the charts. He was the one in his generation.” Ralph explained.

“And did he have children, or something?” Mike asked, trying to be as casual as he could. He knew Henry had children. He also knew three of Henry’s addresses from throughout his life, he’d saw an online reconstruction of Henry’s family tree. But he couldn’t admit that he’d been cyberstalking a missing person with help from his mother’s dead detective friend and an actual private detective.

“Oh, yeah.” Ralph nodded, unsuspecting. “Two, actually. Or he had two.” Ralph explained, almost bittersweetly. “Had?” Mike asked. Ralph nodded.

“Yeah, we only spoke about it once. 2002. Years since we’d completed the Melodies and they’d been phased out. It took me a while to get the confidence to ask him about it. And it was clearly a subject he didn’t want asking about after that.” Ralph explained. “You see, we were…”

“Who’s, uhm, the children in that photo?” Ralph asked, more meekly than he’d wanted. The question came out awkward, he’d done some level of a gesture towards the framed photo on Henry’s desk that had been there since Ralph first snuck into it. The two children in the photograph looked like siblings; brown haired, freckled, similar facial shape. They looked similar enough to Henry.

“Oh,” Henry tutted, awkwardly, looking up from whatever he was working on - some invention Ralph couldn’t begin to understand - and up at Ralph. Henry wasn’t exactly meant to be using factory funds and resources for “personal” projects; anything except animatronics. But by this point, the factory was beginning to be properly funded as Fazbear Entertainment put more trust in them.

“They were my kids.” Henry admitted, hesitantly, he propelled his wheeled chair to Ralph and pointed at the boy in the photo. “That’s my son, Sammy. He turned twenty recently. I don’t really have…” Henry paused. “Much to do with his life anymore, I don’t even know what he does for a job. But my wife tells me he’s smart, so I’m sure he’s fine on his own.” He said, it sounded like he was convincing himself.

“When, uh, me and my then wife divorced. The court ruled that I was a danger to my son, that hurt. But I got why, he went with my ex-wife Marina. I don’t think I’ve seen him in person since then.” He said, almost laughing, although the laugh was empty.

“And that is my lovely daughter Charlotte. She’s still eight.” Henry said, bittersweetly.

“Eight, but-” Ralph was confused, considering the ages of the two in the photograph, they appeared to be the same, or at the very least there wasn’t a twelve year age gap between the two.

“She died.” Henry answered, interrupting him. “She, uh, got out of my eyesight once and a monster found her. Killed her.” Henry explained. “The worst part being that monster was my best friend, a man she considered family.” He revealed. “And he was never convicted, you know?” he added.

“N-Never?” Ralph asked.

“Not for anything, no punishment. I don’t think he even felt bad. That stabbing her was…” He paused, trying to think of a comparison. “as trivial as screwing a screw into an endo.” He finished. 

“Is he still…” Ralph trailed off.

“Alive? Don’t know, he went missing recently. I for one hope he died in pain, and hope he’s rotting like a bunny corpse somewhere.” Henry said, more harsh than Ralph expected. There was silence after that.

“Anyways…” Henry said, moving and pushing the framed photo down face first so his kids weren’t visible anymore.

“Did you… ever find out who killed his daughter?” Mike asked, trying to not make it sound suspicious. He had a pretty certain idea just from that description.

“He never told me himself, but from what I’d gathered I think it was the other founder of the company, William.” Ralph explained, unawarely confirming Mike’s suspicions. “I mean, don’t- don’t tell anyone I said that. They’d fire me and they’d fire you. I’m being too honest with you but, hey, I think you’re trustable. What’s the worst you're gonna do? Record all this? Hah.” Ralph laughed, dryly, Mike laughed awkwardly.

“So you guys were close?” Freddy asked, having involved himself with the conversation again. “Safe assumption, I’d say.” Mike agreed.

“I’d like to say so.” Ralph agreed. “I mean he was the best man at my wedding.” Ralph revealed.

“The what?!” Mike exclaimed.

“Yeah, I got married in 2005. It was cheap, obviously. The factory didn’t pay well, and my then wife’s job was hair styling. Waste of my savings, honestly, since we got divorced like a decade later. But, whatever.” Ralph said, waving it off.

“Come on, man. It’s my wedding.” Ralph said, putting emphasis on the word ‘wedding’ whilst Henry didn’t even look at him. “You know, like… a ceremonial union between two people, costed half a fortune, like half my family’s coming.” He continued.

“I can’t come, I’m busy. The factory can’t run itself.” Henry insisted.

“Yeah, except….” Ralph paused. “It’s Summer, and the factory’s gonna be closed for a week and a half, as you organised. And don’t say you have to have a security guy, because you’ve hired them too, I saw the paperwork on your desk.” Ralph said, already combatting what was to be Henry’s next excuse.

“I just can’t. Sorry.” Henry repeated, turning back to the endoskeleton he was adjusting the parts of. “I’m gonna be real busy with all this,” He gestured to the varying parts of machinery and mechanics on his table. “Maybe next time.” He excused.

“You only get married once, that’s the whole point.” Ralph pointed out. “But fine. Fine. It’s up to you.” He conceded, placing the invitation on Henry’s desk.

“Wait, wait,” Mike interrupted. “So he didn’t even come?” He asked.

“Ah, ah. Let me finish.” Ralph responded. “I mean, I hadn’t expected him to show up after the conversation. And he didn't go for the ceremony, but as the night came to an end…”

“Look who decided to show up!” Ralph exclaimed, now significantly drunker than he promised his newly wedded wife he’d be. People were shuffling towards the door, and Henry was sifting through the small crowd towards Ralph, in an awful looking suit which Ralph would’ve thought was second hand if Henry hadn’t told him where he got the suit from a few days later, and - even more shockingly - he’d actually shaved for what was probably the first time since Ralph had met him.

“I’d be a horrible best man if I didn’t show up.” Henry agreed.

“You missed the whole thing, you’re terrible.” Ralph said, half honest, but hugged him nonetheless. “Alcohol?” He asked, waving a glass to Henry.

“Uh, no no. I don’t drink anymore. Not since my daughter died.” Henry said, dismissing the question.

“You mean after?” Ralph asked, not able to censor himself in this state of drunkenness.

“No, before. I swore off alcohol after it.” Henry corrected. “You’re drunk.” He concluded, expertly deducing it.

“A little, you should give it a try. Loosen up.” Ralph insisted, waving the glass towards Henry a second time. Henry backed up slightly.

“I’m… fine.” Henry responded. “Don’t make this a habit. You can’t operate heavy machinery while drunk. And they’d shut us down for one incid-” 

“Come onnnn, man. Don’t speak work at my wedding.” Ralph interrupted. “Come meet my wife, come meet my wife.” He insisted, grabbing Henry’s arm and pulling him over.

“Was that the last time you saw him?” Mike asked, invested in the story now.

“Eh, one of the last times. After that he kinda closed himself off, even when I went back to working he’d lock himself in his office and stuff. I never figured out why, but. Whatever.” Ralph said, with a shrug.

“What was the last time?” Mike asked, curiously.

“Uh. 2006. I came to the factory, but apparently he was sending everyone home. I went up to his office to ask, and-” 

Henry threw pages and pages of paperwork from his desk onto the ground, grabbing a lighter and setting half of it ablaze as best he could. “Are you insane? What the hell?” Ralph asked, trying to pull him back and failing, you’d think after working in a factory for so many years he’d be stronger.

“You don’t get it- You-” Henry stuttered, pushing Ralph back and searching through his desks frantically, like an insane person, his hair was messy. “You don’t-” He continued, pulling a whole drawer out as its contents poured onto the ground. He grabbed a hammer and began smashing them apart, frantically.

“Calm down! Calm. Down! What’s going on?” He asked, getting in the way of Henry and the desk. Henry paused, throwing the hammer on the floor and moving on.

“You just-” He scoffed. “You’ve never understood it like I have. You never will.” Henry said, he pressed on the bottom of his desk and the wall began opening up, not to the surprise of Henry.

“What the hell?” Ralph asked, as the wall opened to a secret room. Exposed wires were covering the floor and wall, entangled in one another and of varying colours seemingly to provide some method of differentiating. “What is this?” Ralph asked. The centre of the room was a large circular chair, and above it a large helmet with a glass visor that Ralph recognised to be a VR headset, it was held up by chunky wires, seemingly sitting on the chair would allow for one to put the headset on.

“It doesn’t concern you, Ralph, go back to your life.” Henry said, walking into the room and avoiding the wires. Ralph followed.

“Henry!” Ralph exclaimed, following him. Henry dropped to his knees and began tearing the wires out of the chair, the lights in the room flickered, as Henry stood up and turned his sights on the wires holding the headset up.

“Henry! Talk to me!” Ralph exclaimed, grabbing Henry before he could stand on the chair to reach the headset. Henry paused, hesitating.

“Do you…” Henry paused. “Do you believe in ghosts, Ralph?” He asked, looking at him.

“Ghosts? No. I don’t think those things exist.” Ralph dismissed, confused about where it had come from. “Do you?” He asked.

“I don’t ‘believe’.” Henry responded, he got up on the chair and reached to the headset, pulling a USB out of it before coming back down. “Take this. I don’t need it anymore.” He said, putting the USB into Ralph’s hands. Ralph looked down to it, sleek and black with the letters ‘M.X.E.S’ written in purple marker.

“The man…” Henry paused, incredibly briefly. He was catching his breath after he’d destroyed half of the things in his office. “The man who killed my daughter is still out there. I don’t know where but he will come back.” Henry said.

“You sound insane.” Ralph said, frankly afraid of the man he considered his best friend.

“I do- I don’t care.” Henry dismissed, still holding Ralph’s hand as he closed Ralph’s palm with the USB in. “I need to do something. I don’t know… I don’t know if I can come back from this. So I need you to keep this safe.” He said. “Do you promise me you’ll keep it safe?” Henry asked, emphasising the word ‘promise’.

“I-” Ralph hesitated, not wanting to feed into his friend’s delusions. “I promise.” He nodded.

“Thank you.” Henry nodded, before pushing Ralph away. “You need to leave.” He said.

“I can’t leave you.” Ralph responded. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” He asked.

“It’ll be fine. Leave.” Henry responded, brushing him off. He turned back to Ralph after he hadn’t budged. “I promise. I’ll be fine. We’ll see each other again.” Henry said, he seemed like he meant it.

“O-Okay.” Ralph nodded. “Tomorrow?” He asked.

Henry paused.

“We’ll see each other again.”

“Wow. And that was the last time?” Mike asked, surprised. “Do you think he was telling the truth?” He asked.

“What? About ghosts and his daughter’s killer being alive?” Ralph listed. “No, just the ramblings of an insane man. I guess if you lost your child you’d be bound to go insane eventually, I know if I lost my Coppelia.” He said.

“Hm.” Mike nodded, excluding the fact Freddy, and possibly the other animatronics, were probably dead children possessing the animatronics. He hadn’t unpacked all that yet. “So what happened after?” Mike asked.

“Eh, the next day I went to the factory and…”

Ralph was walking through the street towards the factory, the events of the last day had been mostly forgotten by him in exchange for a bad night's sleep. But as he drew closer to the factory, he became more and more confused and began remembering the events as he noticed his coworkers walking past him. As he came up to the front of the factory, there were two people.

One of them noticed him. An older man, with grey hair who seemed to be balding at the top. He was in a suit with a blue tie, and was wearing glasses. “Ah, your name, Sir.” The man asked, once he noticed Ralph.

“Uh, Ralph..?” Ralph responded, confused. The man reached out of his hand for a handshake, which Ralph accepted.

“Ralph, Ralph, Ralph…” The man repeated, snapping his tongue a few times. “Calli, do we have a ‘Ralph’?” He asked, pulling back from the handshake and looking at a significantly younger woman who seemed to be in her 20s. She had long brown hair and was wearing a black vest, she held up a clipboard and searched through it quickly.

“Yes, Sir.” ‘Calli’ nodded, picking a pen on her ear and crossing what Ralph presumed was his name off it.

“Good, good. We’ll make a CEO out of you, yet, Calli.” The man promised to her. “My name’s Nemo M. Syne, CEO of Fazbear Entertainment. Perhaps just call me Mr. Syne, or Nemo, I’m not one of those stuck up CEOs.” Nemo said, rather politely. “I’m sorry to tell you, but this factory has been closed down. We have no need for it.” Nemo explained, putting his hands into his pockets and whistling. The man talked fast, Ralph could barely make out what he was saying. It's like he'd never learned to put gaps between words and just said a whole sentence as one ridiculously long word. 

“What? Why?” Ralph asked, alarmed. He’d think being put out of work would come with a few weeks of notice.

“Ah, well, recently we’ve closed a deal and came into acquisition of Afton Robotics. We’re in the looks for a CEO right about now, but due to that we have no need for this factory. There’s little reason for it, no reason, no reason at all.” Nemo explained, looking up to the factory.

“Y-You can’t do that? You can’t put us all out of a job?” Ralph asked.

“Oh! Oh dearie me, no. Here at Fazbear’s we would never let our employees go so rudely. We’d at least give a severance package.” Nemo insisted, patting Ralph on the back. “We’re merely transferring you to another half of the company, the entertainment side. You are familiar with our whole chain of restaurants, yes?” Nemo asked.

“Y-Yeah? Obviously, I went there as a child. To Fredbears.” Ralph recalled.

“Ah! Amazing! Amazing! Fredbears was a lovely place, truly a shame it ended so unceremoniously. How long ago now, Calli?” Nemo asked, not bothering to turn around to his young assistant. “Fourteen years, Sir.” She responded. “Fourteen years!” Nemo exclaimed. “Time has gotten away from us all.” He said, pacing about.

“But nonetheless, we’d love to have you over at one of our restaurants. Calli here has composed a list of some excellent options, please, please.” Nemo said, gesturing to Ralph to come over to his assistant and look over her shoulder at her clipboard. “Here, here, here. We have-” and, following that, Nemo began pointing at a list of multiple restaurants in the area, none of which Ralph could remember.

“Hold on,” Ralph cut in. “What happened to Henry?” He asked.

“Henry? Oh! oh, yes, of course. Your boss. Ah, well, the man seems to have gone walk abouts, or missing. More accurately.” Nemo revealed. “It's a tragedy, truly. He was a great mind, an excellent man. Hopefully he'll turn up sooner or later.

“Can't say the same for his son…” Calli mumbled, under her breath. “Don't be horrible, Calli. I doubt Sammy is mourning his father but there's probably something to be unpacked there, you send him my condolences, in fact.” Nemo insisted.

“Missing?” Ralph managed to mumble. He'd blame himself for it years after, thinking that maybe if he did something something may have changed. Henry may have been alright.

“Yes. Terrible, truly. A tragedy in the making But I'm sure he'll come about one day. Those Emily's, they love to be,” he paused. “dramatic ones. Don't they? Ever saw those parties the mayor puts on? Extravagant, ridiculous almost. But I digress, your friend will be fine. He did a lovely, lovely job with this factory, we'll probably keep it up for a few years in case we need it. Calli, write that down. Lovely, thank you.” Nemo explained. “Anyways, I digress, lovely restaurant options here.” 

“Wh- What's my job actually gonna be?” Ralph asked, confused and struggling to keep up.

“Oh, oh, semantics. You will find as an employee you can do all sorts, cooking, cleaning, security, managing. Jack of all trades, our employees are. I've always said that jobs at Fazbear's are fluid, our employees should be as multifaceted and complex as our animatronics! Calli get a trademark on that pending.” He said, gesturing to her.

“Right away, Sir.” She nodded.

“And that's how I began working at the restaurants.” Ralph finished, almost an hour had elapsed since the story had begun. “I really do wonder what happened to Henry, never saw him again. I don't think they ever demolished that factory either.” He added.

“What about, uh, the USB?” Mike asked.

“Hm?” Ralph said, reaching into his pocket and taking it out, placing the USB on the table. It was aged, but Mike could tell it was the same one from the story. “I keep it on me most of the time. Just in case. I've never even plugged it in, I guess I'm afraid of what I'll find.” He explained.