Chapter Text
Cold, wet and rainy, nothing new for this time of year. Bleak midwinter they called it, wasn’t that a poem? He couldn’t remember.
Neon lights glazed the street in hues of blues and purples that reflected off of the wet pavement. The occasional car dashed by, threatening to slash through each puddle that pooled next to the sidewalk. Besides that and the rain, the night was quiet. Normal for a small town. A particularly fast one, a red Mercedes, shot past, water lurching up as it grazed through one of those larger deposits. So much for bringing a coat, Jeremy thought, he ended up soaked anyway. Did the driver not see him? No, the roads were practically empty, they definitely did that on purpose. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he just kept walking. Hopefully they had a heater; being wet and cold for the entire night sounded rather dull.
There was nothing particularly special about Jeremy Fitzgerald, at least not noticeably. His face was soft with warm olive eyes, and a mop of blond curls fell onto his shoulders when he couldn’t be bothered to tie them up. He wouldn’t be the type that you’d look at twice if you were to walk past him while he was headed to work. He was just someone, a person, no one that was supposed to be important. Speaking on the topic of work, he had recently gotten a new job, just a week earlier; a security post at the new Fazbear’s. “All you have to do is watch the animatronics for a few hours each night, and then, hey! You get paid!” The guy on the phone said, voice all relaxed and casual, before adding “Oh, and intruders too.” Shouldn’t that have been the first thing he mentioned, especially considering the history of the company? Maybe that was something to take note of.
He’d only found out about the job through his father who urged him to apply. Something about that was surprising.
“Shouldn’t I be helping to look for Cass?” Jeremy asked to almost no avail.
“Just do this one thing for me, okay? It’ll get you out the house more.” His father had spoken, an uncharacteristic softness in his breaking voice.
And so, Jeremy had taken the job, been interviewed, and it was now his first day, or night, to be more accurate. They’d told him about the Pizzeria’s uniform policy for nightguards, it was the same as that of the daytime security guards; a blue or lilac shirt, black pants, “We’ll give you your badge on your first shift, we always have spares about.” He had chosen a blue shirt, neither colour particularly suited him, but blue was closer to green than purple, so he chose that. Green was a nice colour, it looked like life itself, he thought, but what’s the point in rationalising why you like a colour anyway?
Just past a 24-hour corner shop, with a white glare undiluted by people at this time of night, the Pizzaria emerged across the road. ‘Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza’, the sign read with bold lettering, decorated by a brown cartoon-like bear that hung over it, Freddy. His wide smile and red cheeks would welcome you to the restaurant, beckoning you inside with a friendly face and a promise of joy and laughter. The sign by all means looked new through the orange sodium haze, until you got slightly closer. Then you’d be able to tell that it had been plastered over something else, the bear’s silhouette not quite fitting the illustration, the text being slightly squashed. The company must have gotten tighter since Jeremy was a kid, he didn’t recall it looking so crappy when he was younger. The doors were glass, modern and sleek, with engravings of stars and what one would assume to be the new ‘main four’, the same bear, a rabbit, a chicken and a fox. Like old times, but comfortably different. What time was it? 23:34, he’d made good time. Jeremy rushed over to the entrance, mildly desperate to get out of the rain, before pushing open the door and slipping inside.
Before him stood a desk, red linoleum on a glittery purple, almost black, base. The walls of the establishment were grey, speckled with confetti and decay - hadn’t this location only been open for a few weeks? The smell was familiar, cheese mixed with sweat and plastic. Not much pleasure came from it. He’d have a better look around later, he should wait for now. There was a couch close to the door. Slightly decrepit, a bit rank. Looks like they couldn’t get a couch that was made this century, or they just chose not to. Probably the latter option. With slight awkwardness, Jeremy planted himself down on it, shedding his dripping coat and stuffing it down into the empty backpack he brought with him, before trying to squeeze out as much water from his hair as he could. He checked his watch again, 23:41, twenty minutes until he was supposed to start. Should he have just went and found whatever office he was supposed to be working in? Was someone else working a shift first?
“Sorry about the wait!” A man emerged from the hallway ahead. “Got caught up in something, didn’t realise the time. Yer Fitzgerald right?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
The man was jovial in his disposition, a round figure, lightly bearded and balding, mid-fifties at least, he smelt of cigarettes. His uniform, blue, darker than Jeremy’s own, held a name tag that read ‘J. Brecker’ over his heart. Below was another badge, golden like a shield, but instead of a crest laid Freddy’s face, it wasn’t the new design though.
“Great, just follow me and I’ll take you to yer office.” Brecker clapped his hands together. “My names Jack Brecker, by the way. I’m head of security around here.”
On the way through the corridors, which in all honesty were a little disquieting, Brecker had said that another guy, Ralph Garrison, was going to be the one checking up on the new recruits; “A nice fella, he is. Talks a lot, though. He’ll give yer a call at midnight,” he spoke, rustling through the draws in the office desk to find another badge. “Ah, here’s one! Welcome to the team, Fitzy!” The boss held out the badge as though it were treasure. Fitzy. That was a new one.
The office was larger than Jeremy had expected it to be, with walls like those of the corridors that led up to it; stained with mould that had barely been cleaned off. Surely that had to be a safety hazard? Little metal stars hung around the ceiling like specks of colour on strings. A few monitors littered the corners of the room, just off of the vents. They were old models with dusted screens, probably backups for the one on the desk, or they’d just forgotten to get rid of them. There was a poster on the wall of three of the mascots. He could actually remember the characters from earlier years quite well; Bonnie on the left, Freddy in the centre, and Chica on the right. They looked so different.
“Oh yeah! There’s a few papers we need you to sign. Just some legal stuff, you know how it is.” Brecker’s voice rang through the younger man’s daze as he smacked a tall pile of documents on the desk. “Good luck!”
“Thanks.” Jeremy nodded, not sure if his boss was referring to the papers or the night ahead. With a wave, Brecker left, leaving the office with a slightly daunting silence. You’d be able to imagine a place like this being appealing to kids during the day, with the bright furniture and such, but at night its flaws were revealed. Whatever happy atmosphere that could be achieved in the sunlight was wiped away under the cover of darkness. All that was left was discomfort.
He sat there for a moment, before the thought occurred to maybe turn on the monitor, it was obviously there for a reason. It ran through its startup animation, with loud buzzes and whirs before it flickered to a shot of the main stage. He didn’t know what he was expecting, any security role would require checking cameras, that’s part of the job. Jeremy clicked through each fuzzy screen, clicking on and off the attached flashlight. Then there was one with another button, a music-box? Why on earth would a music-box be attached to a surveillance system?
A sharp ringing broke through the silence, obnoxiously loud and mildly startling. The phone call Brecker had mentioned, what was the guy’s name again? Jeremy grabbed the phone out of its holder, immediately a voice called out, “Uh, hello?” What if this was actually some customer or something? How was he supposed to know if it was actually that phone guy the boss had mentioned?!
“Hello, hello?”
“Hi.” That’s not how you’re supposed to address customers!
“Uh, hello and welcome to your new summer job at the new and improved Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.” Oh. He realised the voice was of the same man who’d he’d talked to about the job when he had applied. It wasn’t summer though, it was definitely November. “Uh, I'm here to talk you through some of the things you can expect to see during your first week here, and to help you get started down this new and exciting career path.” The guy sounded both enthusiastic and bored, an exact medium, not quite monotone but not exactly lively either. What was he supposed to say in response? Jesus, he needed to get out more.
“Uh, now I want you to forget anything you may have heard about the old location, you know.”
“I’m not sure that’s an easy feat, sir.” Jeremy laughed awkwardly.
“Uh, some people still have a somewhat… negative impression of the company. Uhh... that old restaurant was kind of left to rot for quite a while, but I- I want to reassure you, Fazbear Entertainment is committed to family fun, and above all, safety.” Considering the mouldy walls, and the exposed wires on them, was that true? “They've spent a small fortune on these new animatronics, uh, facial recognition, advanced mobility. They even let them walk around during the day! Hah! Isn't that neat?” He cleared his throat, not letting himself get too excited. “But most importantly, they're all tied into some kind of criminal database, so they can detect a predator a mile away. Heck, we should be paying them to guard you!” That was comforting, to a degree. It explained the new look though. Jeremy imagined it was probably controversial, changing the way the animatronics looked, but he couldn’t lie and say he hated them. He wondered if they still had a Foxy. The one that he remembered was creepy as Hell. Bonnie was always better.
“Uh, now that being said, no new system's without its… kinks.”
“What?”
“Uhh... you're only the second guard to work at that location. Uh, the first guy finished his week, but complained about...” He paused. “Conditions.”
“What do you mean? What conditions?”
“Uh, we switched him over to the day shift. So hey, lucky you, right?”
Never mind, whatever reassurance the guy had created earlier had now been lost. Nothing about this seemed lucky. There’s a sound coming from the vents.
“Uh, mainly he expressed concern that certain characters seemed to move around at night-“
There’s something in the vent. Maybe that was his imagination. Maybe it wasn’t real.
“-And even attempted to get into his office!” Maybe it was.
“What do I do about that? I’m uh- there’s-“
“Now, from what we know that should be impossible. Uh, that restaurant should be the safest place on earth.”
“I’m not sure it’s impossible-“ Was that the new Bonnie in the vent? He checked the light. Yeah, it was. The guy said they’re really safe though, he could surely just leave it alone.
“So while our engineers don't really have an explanation for this, the working theory is that the robots were never given a proper night mode. So when it gets quiet, they think they're in the wrong room, so then they go try to find where the people are, and in this case, that's your office.”
“Right.” That kind of made sense.
“So our temporary solution is this: there's a music box over by the prize counter, and it's rigged to be wound up remotely. So just every once in a while, switch over to the prize counter video feed and wind it up for a few seconds.”
So that’s what that was! Jeremy rushed back over to the monitor, holding the button while keeping an eye on the blue bunny that stared him down.
“It doesn't seem to affect all of the animatronics, but it does affect... one of them.” The guy cleared his throat again. What did he mean one? Bonnie climbed out of the vent, eyes shrunken, mouth wide. It stalked forward, closer to the desk.
“Uh, and as for the rest of them we have an even easier solution. You see there may be a minor... glitch in the system, something about robots seeing you as an endoskeleton without his costume on, and wanting to stuff you into a suit…” Phone-guy rambled.
“What!?” Jeremy yelped down the phone. This guy was addressing this stuff way too casually.
“So hey, we've given you an empty Freddy Fazbear head- Problem solved! You can put it on anytime, and leave it on for as long as you want; eventually anything that wandered in will wander back out.”
Jeremy spotted the head below the desk. It was more of a mask than anything, with only the top half of the head, no jaw or anything. He pulled it over his own head, staring back at the bunny robot thing in front of him that now leaned over the table, convulsing slightly. He shut his eyes tightly as the thing got closer…
Nothing. It left. His breathing had gotten too heavy. He needed to calm down.
“Uh, something else worth mentioning is kind of the quirky modern design of the building. You may have noticed there are no doors for you to close.” Phone-guy laughed a little. He obviously didn’t hear the commotion.
“Uh, but hey, you have a light! And even though your flashlight can run out of power, the building cannot. So, don't worry about the place going dark.”
“Do I need to charge it or something? Get new batteries and stuff? Are those in the desk?”
“Well I think that's it.” Never mind, then. “Uh, you should be golden. Uh, check the lights, put on the Freddy head if you need to, uhm, keep the music box wound up, piece of cake!”
“Wait, what about intruders and stuff-“
“Have a good night, and I'll talk to you tomorrow!” He hung up. Jeremy checked his watch. 2:01AM. This was going to be a long night.
He checked the music-box again. It was unwinding, or at least thats what the little circle symbol seemed to indicate. He held the button for a few moments. Right. Cool. What next?
He checked the main stage. Bonnie was back there. Good. All three of the main group seemed to be as they should be.
He flicked through a couple more cameras before he spotted something. What exactly was that? A bunch of parts, or something, bundled together with a fox-type head. No way that was the new Foxy! It might have actually been an improvement from the old model, at least the face wasn’t so creepy. He’d focus on that thing later.
Another camera, one of the back rooms. That’s where they were keeping the old ones then. They’d seen better days, definitely. He could see the old Bonnie, the one he remembered, clearly, he was missing a face and an arm. It looked to be releasing smoke, or something dark. It was hard to tell. Something about it felt painful. A bastardisation of childhood or something. That might have been a bit dramatic.
The night began to breeze by as he repeated the cycle: check the cameras, wind the box, maybe flash the light down the hallway a few times, just to be safe. Hour by hour 06:00 drew nearer, until it finally hit with a wave of relief. The building’s lights flickered on, marking the end of Jeremy’s nightshift. He got to go home, thank God. Nothing about working at a Pizza restaurant should warrant that amount of stress.