There were two things Michael had grown deceptively used to. The smell of death, and the feeling of fear. And tonight, both things were dredged up like a corpse from a shallow lake.
Television static filled the room, empty white noise nearly lulling him to sleep from a dead channel that he had no interest in changing or adjusting the antenna for. It was late at night, or midday if you happened to be someone with sense, and he saw no reason to get up when the volume was low enough it counted as a noise machine.
that was the day Michael would actually be getting rest, seeing as how things had been less than ideal for him within the span of a mere year. So many things that had happened, so many sights, sounds, sensations. It was almost so overwhelming he could forget just how traumatic it all was. How hard it was to sleep without seeing visions of what he had done.
It had all started back in the spring. There were two reasons Michael had even found himself within that fateful building when he was there.
One, he needed a job. It was sheer desperation, and Freddy’s was always hiring. He knew how much of a shit hole that place was, but he and Charlie were hard up for cash and he just needed a paycheck before shit got any worse. It wasn’t like either of them really had family to go beg for money from anyways. At least, not in any helpful way, seeing as how Henry had basically gone radio silent on them and Charlie was too pissed about that fact for the situation to find a helpful way to resolve itself.
Two, it was curiosity that sent him there. Intrigue in how the building still stood there, decrepit and slowly dying but there all the same. It was an oddity, something that called for him, like something within was keeping it breathing and he needed to know what. What had his father left within that building that made it undying, unwavering, a stain upon the town he called home.
He got hired without a fuss, he wasn’t even sure they performed a background check, but that wasn’t really a sticking point to him. What did it matter? It made sense, the place seemed like it was held up with spit and bubblegum. The hiring manager being chewed up didn’t shock him, especially when he couldn’t imagine most people working at a place like this for longer than needed. All this to say, he was hired on for a night shift gig, a shift he wasn’t even aware existed at a place that would under most circumstances would not be open at night, yet they did their own hiring for security. This wasn’t something he would’ve been aware of when he was younger, considering after the age of 12 he refused to go near anything “Freddy” or “Faz”-anything related even if it killed him.
Obviously, despite his father’s partial disappointment about that fact (and partial joy, from what Michael could glean in his teen years), he had not died due to this hesitance. For better or for worse.
That week had gone off without a hitch, really. Of course, in the way one might call “fighting for their life” fun. See, perhaps the fact he hadn’t been killed at his father’s hand for refusing to go near that restaurant was a warning in its own right. A promise that it would do that for him.
The first night felt almost comedic in nature, truly. Playing a prerecorded message left on an answering machine that sat proudly on the desk of an office that by the very nature of its construction felt incorrect. He felt almost trapped within a room with more entrances than logical for an office. Yet, it ultimately didn’t matter. He was stuck here for the night, and so he forced himself to relax into the peeling office chair that sat within the center of the room, and listen to the droning voice of whoever had left that message.
It started off simple enough, awkward, if anything, but there was a sort of dread that hit as the words truly started to force themselves to make sense. He felt his heart begin to pound in his chest, forcing a breath at the mention of a “missing person report”. It was almost comedic, wasn’t it? The lingering implication of what might happen to him within this building. Sure, he knew what kind of death trap he walked into on the surface, he heard the fights his father had with people firsthand, yet all the same it left him with a nauseous feeling.
What was he missing? What had been buried that even he lacked knowledge of?
He felt his heart start to race hearing mention of the animatronics moving, something he was everything but prepared to hear. After all, he avoided them like the plague following his brother’s death and yet here he sat, discovering they walked around? During the time he was covering his ears and closing his eyes to drown out these metallic nightmares they had grown to walk by themselves?
Everything in him told him simply being here was a mistake, that he was bound to die where he sat. Well, obviously that was what he was meant to think. It had to be some elaborate prank, something meant to latch into his fears of these robotic monsters. He had sat there for nearly 30 minutes without so much as a twitch from any of the animatronics he occasionally checked on.
Slowly, the brain numbing fear that maybe this was anything more than a joke ebbed away, leaving him bored with a hallowing rage ebbing inside him. How could he really be so stupid as to take some dude he didn’t even know the name of’s word as gospel? He scoffed at himself as he looked back up at the cameras that revealed the current status of everything within the restaurant when he noticed something particularly foul.
Bonnie had moved.
Not just an arm, or his head, or something simple like that. In fact, Michael wishes that was all that had occurred within the time he stopped paying attention. It was five minutes, really, it couldn’t have been more than five minutes and the robot was gone. The robot was gone. He was just checking it and the robot had moved. It was gone. It wasn’t a trick it was gone and he was told all he had to defend himself from a robot that wanted him dead was a door?
A door, he only had a door between him and a death machine. Why did he take this job? What possessed him? Why, why why? His mouth went dry, not even breathing as his eyes scanned the cameras, darting, searching for the robot. It was gone. He barely took his eyes off it. It was -
It was standing neatly in the main dining area.
It was simply standing there. It was standing there, and looking at him, and mocking him with those eyes. Those eyes that spoke more than that monster ever would.
“I know what you are. I know where you are. I’m coming for you.”
It almost felt as if those words were truly spoken to him, said whispered into his ear, a small voice. A child’s voice mocking him. How sick was he that he’d think that thing would have an innocent voice? It wanted him dead, it wasn’t a child’s friend, it was a monster.
He felt his breath ragged behind gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes as he tapped a finger against the screen of the monitor. Covering the animatronic’s face so it could no longer stare through the camera at him.
“Come ‘n’ get me then, bastard,” he hissed to it, his eyes glancing away towards a second monitor, realizing the curtain to pirate’s cove had opened. But Foxy was out of order. It said right there on the sign. Yet here it was, staring at him with all the same ruthless intent as Bonnie. He couldn’t help but laugh, something so sickly ironic about the situation. So the bastard was too broken to perform for kids but it could gladly seek and destroy.
How appropriate, Michael thought, the words burning in his throat as he whispered them to himself, huffing quietly. Of course something from his father and Henry’s hands would only be good for causing problems. He was a shining example of that, wasn’t he? Maybe he fit right in with these things.
He peered up once more to spot that the rabbit had moved further through the building, still staring at Michael through cameras that felt less one-way than they did prior. As if the creature could see him, witnessing his chest fall up and down, waiting to strike, no longer a rabbit, no longer prey. No, it was the predator and Michael was a sitting duck, low hanging fruit, easy to grab, to choke the life out of.
Though, that wasn’t to say he wasn’t a man who wouldn’t put up a fight. He glanced back at the fox that peered from behind the originally closed curtain, still staring, waiting. How sly of it, really. To be waiting until Michael’s guard was lowered. How sad it already missed its chance.
Seconds ticked by, minutes slowly creeping in as he watched the rabbit grow ever closer, almost as if it were stalling. Waiting for Michael to grow tired. Waiting for a perfectly opportune time. Nearly human, Michael couldn’t help but admit to himself. Disturbingly human.
As minutes crept by and turned to hours the creature drew closer, only a third of the way through his shift by the time it had begun creeping towards his door. Though, Michael had to admit, he couldn’t help the way his stomach lurched as he realized the robot was no longer in the cameras at all. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he slowly reached towards the light to the hall, gently pressing the button to illuminate it.
He couldn’t even scream as he was placed faced to face with the rabbit, its lifeless eyes truly boring into him. Its maw gaped as if it planned to lunge into him, threatening to rip away his flesh with its metallic teeth. There was no real thought within Michael’s head as his fingers moved away from the light switch and slammed the door shut, loudly banging to the floor as the thick metal created a barrier between him and the rabbit. The buzzing light stayed alive a few moments longer, revealing to him the shadow of the rabbit before it clicked off against his will.
Right, the power, he couldn’t let the power run out. This stupid building limited its power supply at night. Probably to keep the night guard from running up the electricity bill. Cheap bastards, won’t even pay to keep a man alive. He better be getting hazard pay for this shit.
He glanced back at the monitors sat on his desk once more, finding the robotic fox he once admired had not yet moved any further. A positive sign as far as things went for him. He wasn't sure how the thing would behave and he wasn't too keen on finding out considering it seemed to be hesitant to move when looked, unlike Bonnie. In fact, it seemed as if Bonnie were the only one who moved much at all.
Eventually, Mike decided to make an almost careless move. He turned back on the light of the hall Bonnie was in. It seemed as if it weren't an error on his part, however, noticing the shadow the robot has previously cast was gone. Seemed as if it had finally left, and considering it was once again visible on the cameras, he assumed it was safe to once again open the door.
Slowly, hours ticked by, not much changing as he played what began to feel like a game of peek-a-boo with the robot. It was almost surreal as the clock finally ticked to 6 in the morning, the alarm beeping, echoing through what felt like the entire restaurant. He stared at the cameras as Bonnie returned to the stage and Foxy once more hid behind the curtain. Right, his shift was over. The game was over for the night.
A sharp pang of confusion coursed through his mind. Game? What the hell was he talking about it being a game? Those things wanted him dead and he called it a game? Perhaps, in its own twisted way, the hunt, the chase was the game. He was the prize, but it was a game all the same.
There wasn't any reason to linger on the thought for too long. He was done with work, he was exhausted beyond what he could have ever imagined, and Charlie was probably waiting for him, worried about how the night had gone. She was probably the only person left who really understood what this place did to him, after all.
He slowly stood from his seat, his back aching as he finally moved from his stationary position, frozen with fear for far too long. He kept an eye on the monitors, eventually realizing the things weren’t going to move again, probably not until he was long gone and the restaurant was once again open. How interesting, he supposed, before exiting the office, finding himself frozen once more as he realized he had to walk past the stage to exit the building. He felt his heart once again begin to race, his limbs numb, nothing more than pins and needles as he stared at the robots on the stage. He took a deep breath before realizing he was cornered if he didn’t take the risk. Barely any thoughts beyond a pure need for survival in his head, he reached the front door of the establishment, looking back and realizing he hadn’t been chased. In fact, none of them had moved at all.
The game really was over for the night. He made it through his first night, and he wasn’t too sure what he had really learned.