"Jeremy Fitzgerald. Age twenty. It says in your CV that you have done many things of a worthwhile note. You've graduated collage with honours, and have an above average IQ. Why are you applying for a job as a nightguard at a pizza place? Don't you have anything better to do?"

"I would just like this job, please. It would mean a lot to me."

"Why? Do you have a history with Freddy Fazbear's Pizza?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Well, you are more competent than the other blokes I've interviewed today, and you do have a better CV than all of them. You've done more things, you've been to more schools, you're just generally better. But you do know the risks, do you not? Although we don't like to speak about it, a nightguard died in this position once. You do know that right?"

"Yes. I know that."

"Well then, Mr. Fitzgerald. You're hired."

Another night, another shift at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Today was Friday, last day of the working week. Thank goodness for that! The weekend was just six hours away, and coincidentally it would mean six hours of defending against murderous animatronics for children. It was not the ideal job, and Mike would like to find himself a better paid job as soon as it came up. But he guessed that having a job was slightly better than living under a bridge addicted to drugs, so he shouldn't be complaining.

Mike Schmidt was just a regular bloke trying to do his job, but his irritation grew at Fazbear's Entertainment and at their dishonesty about a job as simple as a nightguard at a Chuck-e-Cheese rip-off. The job description said nothing about murderous animatronics that tried to murder you by stuffing you into a suit! Though... Mike had various doubts about that theory which the Phone Guy proposed to him over the phone.

"You look like a naked endoskeleton," said the guy on the other end of the line. "That's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's, so they'll try to shove you into a suit."

But Mike saw with his very own eyes that the animatronics ignored an actual endoskeleton in the parts and repair closet. Those furry beings were actually out for human blood. His blood.

So Mike started up with his routine; checking the cameras. The fox's curtains were still closed, thankfully, so he didn't have to worry about him too much as for now. Next he checked on the three on the stage. Still they haven't moved. That was strange, not that Mike was complaining.

He remembered how the previous night had gone, how chaotic it had been. Mike had just escaped with his life, and had to lay down in a darkened room for a while afterwards. He just hoped that he would get to keep his life. It wasn't much, but it was still worth more than any paycheck, at least according to Mike.

He checked the cameras again, and the animatronics had still not moved. Things were going well. Too well. So Mike checked all the places, doing his actual job of making sure nobody was inside the building aside himself and the animatronics for once. Maybe the four furry monsters decided to give him a little break for once?

Mike yawned loudly, gazing up at his clock. Only ten minutes have passed. Heh, not too bad. He could do this if things carried on like this. All he had to do was wait.

But the pleasant silence of nothing didn't last long. It never did in this place. Mike, who had closed his eyes to relax a bit, snapped open his eyes once more at the sound of a quiet cough. A child cough.

His heart gave a jolt as he quickly grabbed the tablet to look over the Pizzeria. He had heard those animatronics sing, laugh and breathe using child voices, ones they had possibly learned to mimic thanks to all the time spent entertaining kids. His breathing became more frantic, but to his dismay he found that neither of the killer robots had moved. Maybe his cameras had faltered?

Instantly Mike left his screen aside and jumped up to press the buttons to shed some light on the dark blind spots just outside his doors. But strangely there was nobody there.

Was Mike hallucinating? Oh dear, it was bad if he was hallucinating while defending himself against murderous animatronics. It was bad if he was hallucinating in the first place!

The little voice coughed again, and Mike gasped and looked around, eyes widened and ears poised to listen for any little sounds. Adrenalin was pumped through his veins as he stood to his feet to at least protect himself from certain animatronic doom.

A few breath-taking moments passed, and once again the voice coughed. This time though, Mike was alert and could pinpoint where exactly the coughing was coming from.

Under his desk.

Gulping down his saliva, Mike shook on his feet and carefully lowered himself to a squat to look under his desk. Though what he found there was shocking, but not scary in a way that the animatronics were. This was a different kind of scary.

There was a little boy hiding under his desk.

Mike stared dumbfounded at the little kid, wide-eyed and frozen. How did he get here? The little kid was about seven years old, with ragged blond hair around his little head and big blue eyes, cold and staring. He seemed equally as surprised that he had been found.

"What are you doing here kid?" Mike blurted out at him, unable to contain his shock. "How the heck did you get in here?"

The boy coughed again before he replied in his high-pitched pre-puberty voice.

"I wanted to stay with Foxy for the night, so I stayed!" the little boy replied cheerfully. "It's okay with you, Mr. Nightguard, is it?"

Mike sucked air through his teeth and bit his lower lip. He didn't want to tell this kid that his favourite red fox turned into a bloodthirsty monster, but then again it wasn't fine by him. It was only a matter of time before the animatronics turned to nightmares, and he couldn't have a kid by his side!

"Where's your family kid?" Mike asked instead. Perhaps he could call them to tell them that their son had stayed at Freddy Fazbear's. They must be worried sick!

"Oh! I have fourteen siblings!" the little boy explained happily, not realising the seriousness of the situation. "I'll be back before they know I'm missing!"

Once again Mike wasn't sure. "Do you know your parent's phone numbers?"

The boy shook his head.

Oh great. Mike pinched his brow and sighed. It wouldn't've worked anyway. It was far to dangerous for this kid to leave in the middle of the night, when the animatronics were just waiting to detect movement. Why, why, why must all the worst things happen to him? First, a minimum-wage job that turned out to be a survival game against four killing-machines, and now he had to babysit a little kid while doing so? Oh boy they better pay him better for this.

"Get out of there kid," Mike sighed lowly, stepping back to give the kid some room to come out of his hiding place. The little kid crawled out from under the desk, still bouncing on his toes. Mike didn't know what the boy was so happy about. He didn't know what he would do if he was left behind by his family in a cheap pizza place overnight. Probably curling up somewhere where nobody could get at him. Or at least trying to get out of there, like any sane kid would. But not this boy.

"So, when can I meet Foxy?" asked the boy, but didn't get the reply he was hoping for.

"Next time you come here during the day," said Mike coldly. "If you leave this place at all."

The boy stared at him like a dog stared at a high-pitched noise. "What? But he's here, isn't he?"

Mike wanted to bark at the kid that the animatronics wanted his head, but kept himself back. This was a little kid, and childhood was not to be tampered with. So instead he tried to be as gentle as he possibly could. "Of course he's here, but he's out of order right now. Right now, you've got to stay with me."

The boy looked as if Chrismas had been cancelled. "Why can't I see Foxy!? He'll be happy to see me!"

Mike wanted to slap himself in the forehead at the boy's ignorance. "Right now Foxy doesn't want to see anyone. For now you've got to stay in here and stay really, really quiet."

The boy shut his mouth, disappointed. Mike sighed and grabbed his tablet to check on the animatronics. Foxy's closet was still closed, but the animatronics had turned their heads to stare into his soul. Boy they were agitated.

If a kid was with him, it was not good. It was bad enough that Mike had to fight for his own skin, and now he had to save a little kid as well? Would the murderous animatronics touch a little child? He didn't know, but what he did know of the robots round the halls that they attacked. There was double pressure on him now. Juuuuusst perfect.

For a while the little child was silent as Mike pretended to be super-engaged in his job, though secretly having a major panic attack inside. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the kid heading out into the darkness of one of the doors. His heart leapt.

"Don't go out there!" he yelped, reaching out, quick as an adder, to grab the boy by the arm.

"Why?" the brat asked, taring his arm away from the nightguard, but he saw the absolute fear in Mike's eyes and he backed down. "Why?" he asked again.

Once again Mike sighed a heavy sigh. If this kid was gonna be stuck with him for the next six hours, he needed to be honest incase the robots decide to strike. "Listen kid, this place is haunted, I'm telling you. Those animatronics have been going at my throat for the whole week. They've been trying to kill me, and yesterday I nearly died here!"

The kid glared at him as if he were some sort of lunatic. There was doubt in his big blue eyes, and Mike could clearly read his thoughts through his face.

This man is crazy.

"You don't have to take my word for it," Mike growled lowly, fixing his nightguard cap on his head. "If you want to get mauled by your favourite cuddly creatures, it's your problem. But not on my watch. You're to stay here in this room until six am, got it kid?"

"You're mentally unstable," said the kid. "Why can't I see Foxy?"

This kid. He had the audacity to tell his elder that he was mentally unstable when he didn't even know what he was going through. All he cared about was some stupid cartoon character. Thank god Mike didn't have kids of his own, he didn't know how he would last.

"Fine!" Mike barked and picked up his tablet. "If you want to see your fox so badly, then here he is!"

He switched the camera to Pirate Cove and showed it to the brat. The kid looked expectantly at the tablet, then his face fell.

"Foxy isn't there!" he exclaimed sadly.

That sentence made Mike's heart stop beating. Next thing Mike heard was running footsteps. Those footsteps.

The action came automatically. Over the previous four nights Mike had developed extremely quick reflexes, which was unbelievably handy in situations like this. He thrust the tablet into the boy's hands and leapt towards the door, arm outstretched towards the button.

The shape of Foxy appeared in the doorway, hook and claws and teeth glistening in the dim overhead lights. The animatronic's cold, dead eyes flared with unknown rage as it made a desperate jump towards them. A loud, high-pitched scream emerged from its throat, a horrible alien sound that promised death and blood and every horrible thing. But Mike was faster. His fist slammed the button and the metal door came crashing down, blocking off the threat's way.

Mike flinched when he heard Foxy ram into the door, proceeding to knock on the door with all its might and causing to make a few more minor dents in the metal. Then silence.

He waited a few moments before he shined the light, and the shadow of the Foxy animatronic could be seen trudging back to Pirate Cove, disappointed. So Mike reluctantly reopened the door and checked how much power he had left. 84%... Not that great...

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Mike sat down in his chair again, relieved that his heart was still beating and his soul hadn't left his body, although that was a big yet at this point. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, he let his neck rest for a moment. Oh boy.

He reached out for his tablet, only to find that it was not there. Then he remembered what he'd done with it.

"May I get the screen kid?" Mike asked, outstretching his hand. The kid was shocked, shaking in his tiny shoes, but handed Mike the tablet anyway. The nightguard had to admit that he felt sorry for the little kid, but he couldn't worry about that now. He had much more important things to do.

Foxy had returned to its place in Pirate Cove, dead eyes shining in the camera light as if it knew that Mike was looking back at it. At least it was stationary, for now. The same couldn't be said for the other animatronics. The bear and the rabbit were still standing still, jaws slightly unhinged to show off their killer teeth. The chicken was gone. Where was it?

The parts and repair closet, the dark chicken stood there as if looking for something. The animatronics never moved when he saw them on camera, the exception being Foxy's running. Did those robots know when he was looking through the cameras? They probably did. Those robots knew a lot of things.

"Was that-"

"Foxy? Sure was," Mike replied, slightly annoyed at the kid at his side. The boy was still shaking, stammering through chattering teeth. "Now do you believe me about them being dangerous?"

The boy nodded his head vigorously, those big blue eyes of his welling up with tears. Mike shook his head and turned to check on the animatronics again, though they had not moved.

"Am I ever gonna get home Mr. Nightguard?" the kid asked, taking a few rapid sobbing breaths. "Can I go home?"

Mike hesitated. "I can't promise you that kid. What I know is that these animatronics' free-roaming mode turns itself off at six am. It's safer if you stay with me until that time instead of risking getting your head bitten off trying to get out while they're active. Just try to stay quiet."

The little kid wiped his running nose on his sleeve and sat next to the spinning-chair on the floor. He muttered his agreement and apology and hugged his knees closely to himself. Most likely he was scarred for life and would never return to Freddy Fazbear's after this night, or at least would be haunted by reoccurring nightmares like Mike was.

For a couple of precious minutes Mike tracked the animatronics on camera, following the chicken's movements from place to place all while making sure none of the others moved. They were agitated, he could feel their anger tense in the air. He could almost smell their foul odour through the corridors.

Then the phone rang. Mike shivered, remembering how last time Phone Guy (he didn't know his name, so he started calling him Phone Guy for a cheap laugh) tried to talk he was brutally murdered by one of the animatronics. He did check in all the empty suits in the back room just as he'd asked, hoping to find the man trapped in one of the animal suits and to save what little was left of him, but to his surprise there was nothing in there. Phone Guy must've died then and there. Though Mike personally didn't know Phone Guy, and had never seen him with his very own eyes, he was hit with a pang of grief and fury. Those animatronics killed him. Those animatronics killed his guide.

So why was the phone ringing now?

Mike hesitated before he answered the call. And instantly wished he didn't.

What played back was not Phone Guy's nervous, stammering voice, offering him advice, guidance and information which would be greatly appreciated at this point.

No, what came out of the phone was at first static, then strings of deep, distorted voices that mumbled incoherent noises that sounded like they came from the darkest pits of hell. Whatever they were trying to say was punctuated by shrill shrieks that cut off and started up again in a way that humans could never imitate. The animatronics were talking to him through the recorded phone message.

Mike instantly hit mute call, and once again the office went silent. No sane words could describe his horror at the message the four robots had left for him, taunting him, sneering, as if they knew that killing that person on the phone had touched a nerve. Soon Mike's terror turned to sorrow, and he pressed the palm of his hand to his mouth, staring off into his mind.

"What was that Mr. Nightguard?" asked the kid, causing Mike to jump in his seat. He'd forgotten he was there. The kid looked absolutely terrified, and was looking for answers to ease his fears. But would the truth calm him down like the kid wanted him to?

At first Mike shook his head, not wanting to tell the kid what true horrors he'd endured at his time at Freddy Fazbear's. But there was something about the boy's gaze that worked as a truth-drug, an effect that dragged the truth out. So Mike told him. Everything.

"Is the same thing gonna happen to us?" asked the little boy, wide eyes full of tremor.

Mike bit his tongue and shrugged sadly, turning to check on the animatronics once more.

The two on stage hadn't moved at all, though their mouths were now gaping open so the dim lighting glistened off their sharp teeth. That fox had not moved either, though its neck was now bent at a right angle, its eyes still glistening threateningly at the camera.

But the chicken was nowhere in sight. Gah! Where was it? His question was about to be answered.

That awful breathing started to emerge from the right corridor. That breathing like someone was trying to cling onto the last threads of their life. Familiar breathing it was, for Mike had gotten quite used to hearing it whenever the rabbit or the chicken were near. Once again Mike had left his screen aside and turned to the rightmost door. The overhead light flickered, and the terrifying image of the dusty yellow Chica the Chicken brightened up, mouth agape and eyes staring. So Mike shut the door against it promptly. Thankfully Chica nor Bonnie required much to be shut out, since their programming seemed to be less complex, but they drained unnecessary power.

But another noise joined the creepy breathing from the other side of the door. The running footsteps of Foxy the fox. It was going for another attack.

Mike looked up at the other door in horror, knowing full well that he could not make it to the button on time. His whole life flashed before his eyes at that moment as he froze like a deer in headlights, watching as the terrifying creature emerged from the darkness again, the awful scream once again screeching in the ears.

This was the end.

Though apparently not. Before the monster could leap through the door, the metal once again slammed down, blocking off the threat. The animatronic knocked into the door, then proceeded to knock violently into it again, draining even more power.

For that moment Mike was confused on why he was still alive and not being dragged to the parts and repair closet by a huge animatronic arm. It took him a few moments to realise that the little kid had pressed the button, preventing the machine from leaping inside.

"I'm sorry Foxy," said the boy sadly, both hands tightly against the big red button. He looked towards the nightguard with panic, as if looking for gratification that he did the right thing.

Though Mike didn't want to admit it, he was grateful for the kid's quick actions. "Good job kid," he congratulated him dryly. "Though I need you to step away. These things take up power and if we run out, it won't be good."

The boy nodded obediently and took a step back from the door. Mike first checked his own door, to his dismay Chica was still standing there and staring at him with that awful, bloodcurdling expression. But fortunately Foxy had gave up on knocking on the door and went back to its home back at Pirate's Cove, ready to plan its next attack. So there was no need in the door being down anymore. So once again the door opened.

Boy this was going to be a long night.