Chapter Text
MARCH 3RD, 1987
BEEEEP. BEEEEP. BEEEEP. An alarm clock reading 9:30 AM blares through the dimly-lit room, morning light filtering in through the gaps between the window blinds. The young man lying in bed turns and lightly shifts in the sheets, before sighing and reaching out to turn the alarm off. He sits up on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes and looking around for a moment, blinking rapidly as his surroundings fully come in focus. Running a hand through his tousled dark brown hair, he gets up from the bed and walks up to the window, slowly pulling the blinds open. He puts up a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight, flowing in and illuminating the room properly.
The room is, well, a simple rectangular bedroom with a black, fuzzy carpet and white walls. Posters of different media, like bands, albums and movies are the primary decoration; plastered all over the bedroom's walls. Metallica, Billy Idol, Iron Maiden and movies like John Carpenter's The Thing or Halloween. A simple bed is sat in one corner of the room, a desk in front of the opposite wall, a window on the wall, by the desk and a wardrobe. A stool with a guitar stand is sat by the desk, with a red and white 1982 Fender Stratocaster set in the holder.
Opening the wardrobe, the young man pulls out some clothes and quickly pulls them on; a pair of denim blue jeans, a pair of black and gray striped socks, black, worn Doc Martens, a gray striped long-sleeved sweater and a black t-shirt with the album cover for Ride the Lightning on it. As soon as he finishes getting dressed, he picks up a Walkman and a pair of headphones, nserts a cassette into the player and goes to exit the bedroom, opening the door slowly and exiting out into a long hallway with reddish walls and a blue carpet covering the floor. The walls are decorated with shelves with vases and other such trinkets, alongside framed photographs and paintings. Some photographs depict a happy family of six, and a young pre-adolescent boy with wild, messy brown hair, similarily to the young man himself. A snapshot of better times.
He continues down the hallway slowly, before opening a door into a bathroom, with blueish white ceramic tiles and walls. He blankly stares into the mirror, head tilted downwards, dead silvery blue eyes staring into the mirror for a few moments, lost in thought. The longer he stares into the mirror, the more he feels like he can see images of the past, flashing in front of his eyes like hitting rewind on VHS footage, all unfolding again. Again, and again, and again. Words left unsaid that day, actions made that could never be undone. Consequences. It's been years, and yet, he feels like no time has passed. He still feels like it all happened yesterday; every morning, he wakes up, everything that happened that day still fresh in his mind. He tells himself that he's been slowly recovering. Yet, it all feels the same as it did back then...
"Michael?" A voice from behind him is what snaps him out of the trance, as Michael turns around from the mirror and looks out to the doorway; a ginger-haired teenage girl with a pink collared shirt and a pair of blue overalls stood just outside the bathroom, looking at her brother, concern clear on her face. "Are you all right?"
"...I..." He hesitated for a few moments. "No- I mean, yeah, I'm fine, Liz."
Elizabeth nodded slowly. "Well, uh, dad told me to go and check up on you. You slept in a bit. You know what time it is, right?"
"It's...nine o'clock?"
"It's twenty to ten, actually."
"Right. I'll get going, then."
"Okay."
The two promptly turned and walked down the stairs, with Michael looking around at the numerous family photos hung on the walls with a melancholic gaze. Michael and his sister made their way to the living room, sitting down at the dining table. The living room of the Afton residence is a large, spacious room with green striped walls, a wooden floor with dark purple carpet on it, many oil and acrylic paintings and framed photographs hung on the wall, alongside shelves with vases and other such decorations. In the middle of the living room sits a large dining table, six chairs sat around it, three on each of the longer sides and one at each end of the table. At the head of the table is sat a man in his mid 40s; he has an orderly, well-kept appearance, with dark brown hair that's graying at the ends in a short, slick cut, a short mustache and dreary, half-lidded gray eyes. He's wearing a dark purple flannel button-up shirt and a pair of black trousers as he sits at the table, a plate with a golden-ish omelette on it in front of him, as are three other plates with the same meal in front of each other family member sat at the table. Sitting besides the father, on the side opposite to Michael and Elizabeth, is a younger girl with straight blonde hair in pigtails and a blue dress.
"Good morning to you too, Michael." opened William, with a gruff, vaguely disapproving tone in his voice, a very noticeable Southern English accent in the way he spoke. "You slept in two hours."
"Yeah, I know, dad." Michael confirms. "Sorry."
"It's ten o'clock. You were supposed to be down here since eight."
"I know, dad."
"If you know, then why has this happened a second time?"
"I'm just tired."
"Well, you're always out late, no wonder you're tired."
"I haven't been out late yesterday, though??"
"Didn't you say you were going to Jeremy's?" inquired William, an eyebrow quirked.
"I did, yeah, but he told me he wasn't home, so I didn't."
"Right, but then you went to Junior's."
"Yes, I did, but I came back around 7 o'clock in the evening. I went to sleep on 9, dad..."
Silence overtakes the room for a few moments, silence hijacked by tension as William glared acutely at Michael. The teenager looked away and began to slowly eat his omelette, picking up a piece of bread from a bread basket on the table.
"You're just going to start eating like that? No apologies, nothing? Where are your manners, Michael?" William scolded Michael.
"I'm hungry, dad."
"So am I, but I've been waiting for you to come down here for two hours."
"Can we just eat in peace?" intervened Elizabeth, looking at both father and son, a slight sense of frustration crossing her face.
"...Fine." William closed the argument and began to eat as well, still giving Michael disapproving looks.
Sometime later, William, Liz, and Michael sit in the family car, a violet station wagon, as it moves through the town, rolling past shops, buildings and apartment blocks, before taking a turn around a corner and...there it is. In all of its glory. A large two-story building with red and white walls, many windows and a big neon sign hung up right on the front of it, depicting a band made up of a bear with a microphone, a blue rabbit with a guitar and a yellow chicken with a drumset. The sign reads; FREDDY FAZBEAR'S PIZZA PALACE.
The place used to be a much smaller pizzeria, rather than a mall-sized location, before 1985, named Freddy & Friends' Eatery. That year, the company had decided on a total revamp of the location, expanding it into a full-sized complex of sorts with a large parking lot. The parking lot wasn't totally empty; there were a few cars parked in front of the establishment, particularly a brown Ford LTD Crown Victoria station wagon and a blue Mercury Marquis, both parked in one of the employee-only spaces.
The Aftons' car pulls into an employee space besides the other two cars, as William twists the car key and pulls it out, stopping the car. The three climb out of the car and move up to the main entrance, pushing the doors open and stepping foot into the establishment.
A large space with a black and white tiled floor and white walls with a confetti pattern, with plenty of party decorations and drawings, plenty of tables and chairs set around the entrance area, and the reception desk somewhere to the right of the entrance, alongside a window gazing into the security office. Although it's a bit early, the complex isn't totally devoid of people.
A brown-haired man in his 30s, wearing a white uniform with a red vest, a pair of glasses and a nametag reading "RALPH WILSON / MANAGER" turns to the three who just entered the establishment and quickly lights up.
"Ah, good morning, Mr. Afton! And Michael, and Elizabeth."
"Good morning, Ralph." responded William in kind, sparing him a friendly smile. "How's work going?"
"Well, it's certainly a lot easier to handle right now, buuuut..." He chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his head. "It's bound to get worse later."
"Yeah, I know, Ralph. But you can handle it, right? You and the others."
"Of course! I mean, that's what you pay me for, right?" He laughs at his own joke, with William also slightly amused.
"Right, right." The two continue conversing about other topics, going on a few too many tangents, as Michael turns to look for his friends.
Michael walks off towards the arcade; a big hall with a spacey carpet, dark blue walls and lines of arcade machines of varying games; Space Invaders, Pong, Pac-Man, Asteroids and other such classics, alongside a few Fazbear originals like Chica's Party or BB's Air Adventure. Music faintly echoes into the arcade hall.
Looking around, he hears noises echoing from somewhere behind him. He turns around and notices a person leaning forward towards a yellow-coloured arcade machine labeled: "PRINCESS QUEST". The teenager standing in front of the machine is rather tall, her right hand pulling the joystick left, then right, then down, then left, in the meanwhile the left hand pressing buttons dexterously as pixels danced across an 8-bit screen, two differently-coloured eyes locked on it.
"I know you're there, Mike." said the person, turning slightly to peer at Mike, amber and hazel eyes glaring at him unamusedly through messy bangs of hair. She's wearing a dark yellow band t-shirt with the Descendents' Milo Goes To College album cover drawing on it, a black long-sleeved shirt underneath, black denim jeans and worn yellow Converses. Her fluffy hair is jet-black and shoulder-length, bound into two short spiky pigtails. "You suck at being stealthy, dude."
"...well, atleast I tried, I guess."
"Not hard enough, clearly." said Cassidy, turned back to the arcade machine.
"...you ONLY ever play this game."
"Yeah, so what?" She turned back, hand in her pocket, the other on the arcade machine. "You got a problem with it?"
"No, no, just...wondering why you don't play other games."
A few moments of awkward silence. Cassidy just kind of sighs and turns back to the machine. "It's just the only one that's fun enough for me. Besides, I don't really play games much. Just, you know, out of..."
"Boredom?"
She points a finger at Mike, not bothering to face him. "Ding ding ding — correct."
"...cool, I guess." Michael makes an about-turn and takes a few more looks around the arcade.
"Yo, Mike!" A familiar voice called out. Michael turned towards the source of the voice and smiled as he noticed who it is; the familiar sight of none other than his best friend, Jeremy Fitzgerald, wearing his usual azure striped sweater, dark blue denim jacket, light blue jeans, gray Converses, a freckled face with hazel eyes, a freshly shaven mustache and reddish brown hair in a messy mullet, his rectangular prescription glasses low on his nose. A little arcade-y F.F.P.P. nametag reading "JEREMY FITZGERALD / NIGHT SECURITY" is attached to the denim jacket.
"Hey, Jeremy." Michael answers, sparing a slight smile as he walks up to meet Jeremy with a handshake and a hug, patted on the back by the latter.
"How ya' doin', man? How ya' holdin' up? Youuuu good?" Jeremy asked, noticing Michael's weary, tired expression, slight concern on the former's face.
"No, I'm all right."
"You sure, man?" Jeremy places a hand on Michael's shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm okay, really."
"Nooo, he is not." Cassidy chimed in, among the sounds of a joystick being pulled around and buttons clicking.
"Don't listen to her, Jeremy."
"No, but, like, for real, are you sure you're all right, Mike?"
Brief moment of silence between the two.
A tired sigh. "I'm decent. Just...tired. Had an argument with dad."
"Oh. Was it bad?"
"...well, it was just the same as always."
" Oh, m'kay." Jeremy nodded and patted Mike on the back. "Hope you're feeling better now."
"Yeah, I guess...dad's just talking about...whatever, with Ralph."
"Yeah, saw that..." He turned around and looked over to the arcade entrance, spotting something and waves over. "Heyyy, Charlie! Lizzie!"
The two girls waved at Jeremy, with Charlie noticing Michael and waving. "Hi, Michael!"
Michael waves back in return and is greeted with a hug by the former.
"You all right?" She asks, looking up at him.
"Yeah, just a bit tired."
"Oh, all right." She nods slowly and walks up to Cassidy, patting her on the shoulder. "Hey. Earth to Cassidy, helloooo?"
Cassidy turns around and gives Charlie a deadpan stare. "What's up, is the world ending or what?"
"No, of course not. Just wanted to say hi."
"...dude, we literally saw eachother today."
"So what? Can't I just say hi to a friend? Jeez, Cass..." Charlie chuckles softly, patting Cass on the shoulder, before turning to the whole group. "You guys wanna go find Eric and Jerry? They should be somewhere around here, I think."
Michael simply shrugs. "Fine by me."
"Yeah, let's go." Jeremy affirms.
"M'kay then." Cassidy says, slowly leaning back from the arcade machine and letting it reset on its own, the game reverting to the title screen as the group goes to find the others...
Sometime later, the whole group sits at a dining table somewhere in the main hall of the Pizza Palace, pop rock music echoing from various speakers around the hall. In the middle of the large hall is a stage with the three main animatronic mascots of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Palace, the Fazbear Popstars; Freddy the Singin' Bear, Bonnie the Poprockin' Rabbit and Chica the Chicken, all standing posed on the stage. Freddy with his sparkling red blazer and black tophat, microphone in hand, Bonnie with his blue varsity jacket and his white and blue spiky-shaped electric guitar and Chica with her ponytail and drumsticks in hand, standing behind the drumset.
The dining table covered with a confetti pattern tablecloth is littered with plastic plates, plastic glasses and pizza boxes with pepperoni, cheese and Margherita pizzas, all of the teenagers huddled around the table and conversing amongst eachother.
"Sooo, you guys!" Charlie chimed in, clapping her hands a bit to attract attention to herself. "I've been thinking a bit. Well, me and Cass, actually." She says, ever so slightly leaning towards the latter, who DOES notice this but still mostly just keeps the same blank expression.
"Thinking of what?" Eric, Cassidy's slightly younger bespectacled brother, asked curiously, an eyebrow quirked. He's black haired, much like his sister, but with dark brown eyes instead, and his hair is in an orderly slicked haircut.
"What Charlie means is we've been thinking of doing a movie night. Going to the cinema n' stuff. This Sunday." Cassidy completed Charlie's proposal.
"Yeah, basically! And, uhhh, just wanted to know what you guys think."
"Sounds cool, Charlie!" Jerry joined in, face lighting up at the suggestion. "What, uhh, movie are we gonna go see?"
"Uhhhh..." Charlie paused for a second, thinking.
"It's a horror movie, obviously." Cassidy added.
"Oh, yeah." Charlie nodded, before she gasped suddenly as she remembered. "Ohhh, right! They're showing Something Wicked This Way Comes again!"
"Oooh! Wait, didn't we see that one once, Cass?" Eric asked, turning to his sister.
"Nnnnnope, don't think so."
"Are you sure?"
"Eric, we saw Phantasm, not Something Wicked This Way Comes. You're misremembering."
"Ohhh, right." Eric facepalms. "Well, whatever it is, I'm in. What about you two?" Eric turned towards the Afton siblings. "Beth? Mike?"
"Sounds good to me!" Elizabeth joyfully agreed. "I'm free on Sunday anyway. No plans then, soooo, I can come! You, Mike?" She turned over to Mike, who's staring off to the side blankly. Elizabeth's expression turns a bit concerned. "Michael?"
Jeremy frowned slightly as he pulled his chair a bit closer to Michael, an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, man, you good?"
"..." Silence.
"...you wanna go outside and get a breath of fresh air?" Jeremy asked, his azure eyes concernedly seeking for Michael's.
After a few moments of quiet, Michael nodded. "...yeah."
Jeremy got up with Michael. "We'll be right back, all right?" The others nod as the two walk off to the entrance.
Just outside the Pizza Palace, Jeremy and Michael sit down on the sidewalk, staring at the mostly-empty parking lot and the town beyond. The sky is a dark, cloudy gray, with a slightly chilly wind blowing through.
"...hey, Mike. You sure you're okay?"
"...no...I don't know."
"Well...what happened, exactly? You said you and your dad had an argument, but...what exactly was it?"
"... It wasn't anything special, I'm just...really tired lately."
"You know damn well that's not everything, Mike. Just tell me, man." Jeremy looked into Michael's eyes, a sincere, worryful expression on his face.
"...I just don't..." Michael covers his face with his hand. "I keep on having nightmares and I just keep on getting reminded of...what happened that day. I just can't escape it." He sighed shakily, looking down into the concrete floor beneath them. "And every day I wake up and everything that happened then is just...so vivid in my memories, it feels like it happened just yesterday. I just don't know what to do about it."
Jeremy nods slowly, head turning to the side for a brief moment, before he turns back to face Michael, pulling him into a soft, intimate hug. "Hey man, you're not alone in this, all right? You've got me, and you've got Charlie, okay? It's...well, it's all right to...feel guilty about it, but...you can't let that guilt eat you up. You can't let it hold you down, Mike."
Quiet overtakes the two's conversation momentarily, as a car passes by.
"...I guess you're right." Michael gets up slowly and turns to Jeremy, lending him a hand to help him get up. "I'll... I'll try to not let it get a hold of me. I'll give it my best."
Jeremy pulls Mike into one last hug, smiling. "That's good, Mike." He pulls away, giving him space. "Just remember that we're here for you, and I'm here for you, so...if you need to talk about anythin', I'm all ears."
Michael nodded slowly. "Thanks, Jeremy."
"No problem." He turns towards the entrance. "So, you coming with us to the cinema on Sunday or...?"
Mike takes a long pause to think. "I don't know, I'll have to ask my dad."
"Aw...all right, well, you just tell me whenever you get his answer aaaand I'll tell the others, all right?"
Michael nods.
"Sweet." Jeremy pats Mike on the shoulder. "Let's go back inside, aight?" And the two walk back into the Pizza Palace, another car driving past...
In an office in the employee-only area of the establishment, with light yellow walls, a brown wooden floor and a window on one wall, stand two men; one is a slightly chubby 46 year-old man with dirty-blonde hair, round glasses, hazel eyes, sideburns and a mustache, wearing a yellowish long-sleeved flannel shirt with a green vest over it, a pair of tan trousers and some black shoes, alongside a nametag attached to the vest, on it written "HENRY EMILY / CO-FOUNDER, COMPANY MANAGEMENT". He's sat in a wheeled office chair, behind a desk. The other is a similarly bespectacled man in his 30s, with curly brown hair, dark brown eyes and a neatly shaven stubble, in a gray suit with a white shirt underneath and a nametag reading "PHILIP COOPER / COMPANY MANAGEMENT".
"So, uh, Phil. Felix just called me yesterday, aaaand he told me he'd like to come and pay a visit this..." Henry paused for a moment, searching the corners of his memories. "Saturday or Sunday. I'll have to ask him again, but generally sometime in the weekend."
"Right." Philip nodded.
"So, I need you and Ralph to get this place prepared for the weekend. Everything should be in tip-top shape. Don't really wanna embarrass ourselves."
"Of course not, Mr. Emily...so, um, on a side note, err... has William- sorry, I mean, Mr. Afton. Has he been feeling all right recently? I've noticed he's been a bit more...dejected and distant." Philip inquired, waiting for a response from Henry.
"Uhh...well, I've tried to talk to him about it too, but he kind of avoids me. Don't know what's up with him either..." Henry lets out a sigh. "Probably just the burden of having to care for three kids on his own. And...well, you know. What happened then."
"Right..." Philip stared downwards for a second. "Cass has been getting really distant too. I try to talk to her, you know, small talk about school and whatnot, but she just gives me one-word responses. Spends a lot of time alone in her room, although she does go out with friends, so...there's that, at least."
"Yeah, well, I can't blame her, personally." Henry acknowledges. "She and Edd were really good friends, and then...well, yeah... maybe it's best not to talk about it."
"Yeah, you're probably right. I'll...go talk to Ralph about the thing you said?"
"Yeah, you go and do that, Phil."
"All right..." Phil picks up a stack of papers and a folder from the desk and walks towards the door, opening it. "You have a good day, sir."
"You too, you too." Henry waves Phil off, as the door closes shut and Henry turns around in his chair, looking through the window at the town.
The cloudy gray skies gaze over a small, sleeping town, rays of sunlight peeking through.
Maybe things will get better.