PROLOUGE

Freddy Fazbear's. A place for kids. Pizzas, birthday parties, and a band full of animals. A lot can change in twenty years.

20 YEARS AGO

Our story is about a child, one not always liked, but he never understood why. He was ousted, alone. His parents were divorced, his father a deadbeat. The father had a run in with the law, something about a few missing kids and a mascot costume. The kid didn't think much about it, but it was hard as everyone else always acted as if he was the one who done so. He sat alone at the table, looking at the stage; a brown bear, a yellow chicken, and a purple bunny occupied it. They looked as if they were sleeping, well as much as one can sleep standing up. Suddenly he saw the lights flicker, and the occupants slowly sprung to life. He was never really interested in them, no, the one he really liked was the one positioned near him, behind the curtains.

"Hiya kids! Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's!" the bear exclaimed, his jerky movements somewhat startling to the crowd of children. "I hope you're enjoying your pizza, it's Chica's specialty!" he continued.

The kid just looked down at his plate. He never was a fan of pizza, at least from this place. Thin as cardboard, and almost tasted like it too. The show drowned on in the background, him absently minded to what was going on around. Today was his big day, however not a friend came. "But that's okay", he thought as he looked behind him "At least one's always here for me."

The intercom buzzed overhead as a prerecorded message started to play, "Oh no! Here comes the pirate Foxy! Hide your pizzas kids!" said the forced voice. You could almost tell he hated his job. The curtains from behind him parted as a red fox was shown. He sported an eyepach and a metal hook. The crowd of kids jeered at this character, some even going as far as throwing empty cups. the fox never flinched, and continued on with his performance, as if he wasn't even phased. After awhile the curtains closed on the red one, and the kids went back to eating. All except him. He felt bad for the pirate, his friend. He grabbed his slice of pizza and pushed aside the drapes. He was looking straight on the fox, and the fox didn't even notice him. He didn't mind, he was use to not being noticed. The kid looked over the fox quickly, before resting his eyes on the hook. Gently he slid his pizza in it, and gave a small smile. The fox continued to look straight ahead, no feelings, no emotions. The boy hugged the metallic legs, then left the stage as quickly as he entered it. "Mikey, it's time to go!" he heard his mother cry out, searching the crowd, he spotted her, and ran towards her. The boy stopped for a second, as he thought he heard a whispering voice. Shaking his head, he proceeded to his parent and left the dining area.

PRESENT DAY

"This is it" Michael thought. He could never hold down a steady job, and no one really wanted to hire him, on the account of his father. "No questions asked? Nightshift? Sounds like something I can do." He dialed the number, and the interview was short. They asked a few questions, then a pause of dead air. "You're hired." the other guy on the phone said. "You start Monday, and you better not be late."

And on monday Michael went to the building. He had to walk, but for him the journey was short, only a few blocks. Taking a deep breath he read the sign on the building. "Freddy Fazbear's. I haven't been here in years." Reaching for the double doors, he pulled them and entered the establishment. It was a lot dirtier and worn down then he remembered, then again a lot can change in twenty years. He met a frail old man on the way in, exchanged pleasantries, and was told more about his job. Michael was led to a small booth where he would end up spending the night. The old man pointed here and there, explaining each thing. The guy seemed to be in a rush, and as soon as he was done, he bolted to the exit, didn't even say goodbye. Michael just shook it off, as the man just wanting to get home to his wife before it got dark. He picked up his pad and sat down at the desk, unaware of what he really got himself into this day.