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Desperation, that was your answer when people asked you why you stayed, desperation and insanity. It's the intricate mix of desperation and insanity that has led you into this dank, dirty shit hole of a security room filled with some kid's shitty drawings, cobwebs, and one single dim overhead light making four measly dollars an hour once again. Once again you are Daniel in the lion's den waiting for your just desserts.
You are alone in your den, you made absolutely sure when you did your original rounds when you came in at ten, and yet you know that isn't true, the man on the phone has made that quite clear. Speaking of the man on the phone, the phone is ringing, pick it up, won't you?
The connection is filled with static as you pick up the phone. As you place the dirty receiver to your ear you wonder what interesting advice your friend will relay to you tonight. He has already told you the story of the infamous “Bite of '87”, a story that you don't remember hearing about, the blind spots, the horror lurking in “Pirate Cove”, a strangely singular place, and various other tidbits of information; what else could he tell you?
“Uhh, hello? Hey you're doing great!” You smile as your hear the sound of his voice, the sound of the man on the phone's voice is a comfort to you as you listen to him speak, your mind mentally recording every word he says. He is the only true voice you have heard in days. His voice helps you block out them and their screeches. Speaking of them...
Out of your left ear you can hear them rustling around already. They're quite feisty tonight, aren't they? He had warned you last night that they would become more active as the week progressed, it's Wednesday in case you've forgotten. You spare a quick glance at the cameras, quickly shifting between Pirate Cove and the Show Stage. The rabbit and the chicken have taken off, big surprise, leaving just Freddy to look at you, hello Freddy. The curtains in Pirate Cove are closed, guess he isn't ready to come out yet.
You check the lights by both doors, the halls are empty. The man on the phone is still talking but you know that eventually he'll run out of words to say to you. Maybe you could try and call him back, let his words get you through the night? You hardly doubt that would work but you desperately wish you could try.
“Uhm okay, I will leave you to it. See you on the flip side.”
See you on the flip side indeed, man on the phone.
Time is moving as slowly as ever as the horrific creatures known as Bonnie the Bunny and Chica the Chicken move around the surprisingly large building of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. You aren't too concerned about finding them on the cameras, you need to keep a close, but not too close, eye on Foxy and Freddy, they're the real monsters.
The vomit inducing smell of blood, mucus, and age wafts through the halls and into the small office, one of them is coming. You lean over and flip the left hall light and the bright purple suit of Bonnie greets you, the mouth of the animatronic open wide and menacingly. You slam the emergency door closed and try to calm your racing heart, it can't hurt you with the door closed. Bonnie seems to like you the most as it is almost always outside of your door. You can always hear it singing its happy tune as it strolls around, dum-da-da-dum, dum-da-da-dum. Could it be that it is singing to you, pleading for you to open the door to let it in? Who knows.
Three AM, only three more hours to go. You wonder to yourself if you will make it through the night or if tonight would be the night that you would go “missing”, or at least that's what they would tell the police if they asked. If the police asked, which you hardly doubted they would, the executives of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza would claim that you had simply stopped showing up for work and they had been forced to terminate you. They would say that “no they hadn't noticed anything strange about Mr. Schmidt” and that you would be greatly missed. The police would accept this and leave the restaurant unknowing of the mangled heap that was once your body that has been stuffed into a Freddy Fazbear suit, because after all having your costume off is against the rules at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza and you have always been a stickler for rules.
You spare a quick glance between Pirate Cove and the Show Stage and your heart sinks, Foxy is peaking out from behind the tattered curtains. You have seen how fast it could move as you had barely escaped last night as you slammed the left door just in time, could you really be that lucky two nights in a row? The answer would probably be no but you were feeling lucky tonight, after all the man on the phone had said “see you on the flip side” implying that he would speak to you again, you couldn't disappoint the man by not being here, or rather be alive because you would be here forever, to listen to him.
You flip the lights on once again to your left, Bonnie has left you. You open the door and check the lights to your right and just as you expect Chica is there. You close the door and feel a small surge of triumph, maybe you will survive. You look at the grainy cameras and Freddy is still looking at you, a pair of empty black sockets looking lifelessly at you. What had those parents said about him, a reanimated carcass? If only they knew of how correct they were.
Five AM. Chica has abandoned you again finding the kitchen much more interesting than you. You can hear it rummaging around in there, perhaps it is looking for a midnight snack? Maybe it will make you a sandwich, you are getting quite hungry. You switch the camera to Foxy and see that it is still peaking out from behind the curtains, its red tattered fur looking as if it had been drenched in blood (it probably has been). Foxy is a strange creature, both abashed and yet adamant for your attention. It wanted to be seen and yet it was prepared to inform you of when you were looking at it too much. Children were so finicky.
And then it's dark, mind-numbingly dark. You remember the man on the phone's advice and fall limp, your head lolling against your chest and your gaze falling to the floor. You should have been more careful, you were so close. You can hear his chime, Bizet's overture for Carmen arranged for a music box, you always had had a soft spot for musicals. You can feel his haunting eyes on you as your throat seizes up. You don't dare breathe as he watches you, his eyes and mouth the only parts of him illuminated. The haunting melody continues to play and you become more paranoid by the second. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and your blood is pulsing through your veins, you are alive and yet in a few more seconds you won't be, it will be as simple as that.
And then it's over. The crusty alarm clock on the desk begins to blare loudly telling you and them that it's six AM, you have survived once again. A wave of relief passes through you as you hear Freddy leave you to return to his position on the show stage. The others follow suit and soon everyone's in their places ready for another happy, fun filled day at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza one that you will sadly miss. You make your way out of the building, lock up behind you, and make your way down to the bus stop to get home for some well deserved sleep, after all you do have work tonight.