Just Another Night at Freddy's

Part Zero: The First Two Weeks

Chapter One: Welcome to the Night Shift

Mike Schmidt took in the faded exterior of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, wrinkling his nose slightly. All of the walls had, at one point in the building's life, been a charming shade of purple, with a black and white checkerboard pattern running in a two foot wide strip around the entire structure, about a foot from the top of the walls. But the elements and years of neglect had taken their toll, and the purple had dulled. The white turned into a dirty gray, and dark stains mired the walls. A large faded sign proclaimed the business's name, but a missing letter and deteriorated wiring eliminated any dignity.

What a dump, he thought, but pushed the front door open anyway. He had seen the restaurant's advertisement in the newspaper, offering up a security position that required no qualifications. With such a low entry barrier, Mike jumped at the opportunity for extra pay. He had insisted on striking out on his own as soon as he left college, and moved out of his parents' house the day after graduation. He then learned that the workforce had little to offer someone with a fresh Bachelor's, and he was lucky to land a job at a grocery store.

But as student loans caught up to him and a stubborn streak prevented him from seeking help from his parents, Mike began job hunting once again. This offer seemed too good to pass up. The hours weren't terrible (he could afford working late nights), and it wasn't nearly as far from his home as his other job.

All this went through the man's head as he looked around the front area. The inside wasn't much nicer, with dirty walls and dangling wires nobody seemed terribly inclined to fix. The greasy scent of pizza permeated everything, and a quick glance at the Dining Area showed a smattering of families at the long tables. A large stage sat at the far end of the large space, its curtains currently closed. The teenage hostess lounging in the lobby looked up before returning to examining her fingernails.

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's, sit where ya like," she said in a bored monotone. Mike smiled.

"Um, actually, I'm here about the night guard position? I saw your ad in the paper."

The girl suddenly stood ramrod-straight, eyes widening.

"You sure, mister? You want the night shift?" she asked.

"Yes..." Mike answered apprehensively. Maybe he didn't.

Before the girl could open her mouth to speak again, an agitated, angry looking woman strode out of an office, fixing her suit. It looked as if she wore it nearly every day. The woman quickly put on a forced smile as she ran a hand through her red hair, shooting a glare that made the hostess quickly walk out of the room. The smile returned.

"Hi there!" she greeted, "I hear you're looking to be our new night guard."

"That's right," Mike replied. The woman stuck out her hand.

"I'm Arianna, owner and manager," she said.

"Mike, Mike Schmidt," Mike returned.

"A pleasure," she said, quickly shaking hands, "If you'll follow me to my office, we'll conduct the interview."

"Oh, alright," Mike said in surprise, "You guys work fast."

"We certainly do," Arianna agreed, turning her back to Mike to avoid him catching her rolling her eyes.

Arianna's office could best be explained as organized chaos. It was packed to the brim with papers and memorabilia, but they were all organized to an extent. The most prominent item in the room was a very large poster depicting the animatronic band. It looked like an old advertisement that might have been put on display in a shopping center, but instead repurposed as a decoration. "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza!" the advertisement screamed, "Where fun and fantasy come to life!" The words were printed in large, block letters colored yellow with a thick blue outline. They framed an artistic depiction of the restaurant's characters, and a smiling brown bear, yellow chicken, purple rabbit, and red fox waved cheerily, stuck in the 1980s.

Arianna sat down in a large, faded leather chair and gestured to an uncomfortable looking wooden chair sitting in front of the desk.

"Please, have a seat," Arianna said, gesturing to the chair. When Mike did so, she continued.

"Alright, let's get this going," she said, "Do you have your resume?" Mike started.

"Right here," he said, handing over several pages in manila folder. Arianna swiped it from his hands.

"Wonderful," Arianna replied, sweeping it off the desk and into a waiting trashcan, "I'll look over it later. Let's begin the interview."

"Okay..." Mike said uncertainly. Arianna cleared her throat.

"Have you ever been convicted of a major felony?" she asked. Mike frowned.

"Uh, no, never," he answered. Arianna nodded.

"Right. Have you ever been a member of any sort of law enforcement?"

"What?"

"Just answer the question, Mr. Schmidt."

"No, I haven't," Mike answered. Arianna nodded once more.

"Do you have any experience with robotics?"

"No, but I took a class that-,"

"Fantastic. Are you available to be called in when we need you during the day?" Arianna asked.

"Probably, I do have another job, but it shouldn't be a problem," Mike replied.

"Highest level of education?"

"Bachelor's," Mike replied proudly.

"Oh? In what?" Arianna asked.

"Uh, Liberal Arts," Mike answered.

"Ah," Arianna commented, "Okay, last question: Can you abide by strict confidentiality agreement with the understanding that severe legal action will be taken should you break this agreement?" Mike's head spun slightly as he tried to process the statement quickly.

"I-I, uh, I, yes, yes I can," Mike finally replied.

"Great," Arianna replied, "You're hired." Mike gaped in astonishment.

"Just like that? But you haven't even seen my resume," he pointed to the folder sitting in the trash.

"Don't need to," Arianna replied, opening a drawer in her desk and pulling out a thick document. "This is our non-disclosure agreement, employee contract, and insurance documentation."

Mike stared at the mass of forms. Arianna hid a sigh, and waggled the pen over the sheet. Mike began reading the first page, struggling to decipher the thickly worded legal phrases.

"Not to rush you, but, I do have things I have to do," Arianna said. Mike gave up on reading, deciding that getting a job now was better than risking the local job market again, and signed his name on the dotted line. Arianna quickly snatched it up.

"By taking this job you are required to complete at least two full weeks of work before quitting. Office is down those long halls, pick up your uniform there and be back to meet the janitor at 11:45 tonight," she said quickly, pushing Mike out of the office.

"What about training?" he asked.

"An old employee left messages on the phone, you'll figure it out," Arianna replied.

"But-"

"Don't be late," Arianna stressed, and closed the office door in Mike's face. The guard let out a puff of air between his lips, running a hand through his hair.

"Jeez," he said, trying to catch up with what his new boss had said. He was pulled from his thoughts as the lights in the Dining Area dimmed and a cheery recorded voice began to play.

"Hey boys and girls!" it boomed, "Are you all ready for Freddy?" One of the children let out a hardy cheer, but others remained silent. Mike watched as the red curtain ascended, lopsided, up to the ceiling, revealing three animatronic animals. A small smile tugged at the man's face. He remembered them from his own childhood, admittedly not very well. He had gone to the restaurant when it was brand new as a kid nearly twenty years ago. Everyone did back then.

"Hi everyone!" greeted the aforementioned Freddy. The animatronic's full name was Freddy Fazbear, and was, as his name suggested, a brown bear. The costume covering him was faded and stained, but intact, sporting a black bowtie at the neck. The robot's large head was very expressive, with bright blue eyes and a cheery (although admittedly creepy) smile, with large, blocky teeth. He also sported a black top hat on top of his head between his two round ears.

To the bear's right stood Bonnie, the Bunny. She was purple, with lighter accents on her stomach, muzzle, and ears. Her body shape was identical to Freddy's, a sort of oblong oval torso, being perfectly huggable in a mascot-like way, and she sported a snazzy red bowtie. The rabbit's head was more square shaped, with pinkish red eyes and long ears on top of her head, and unlike Freddy only had teeth on her bottom jaw. These ears had a joint in the middle, and were articulated.

And rounding out the trio on Freddy's left was Chica, the Chicken. She was shorter than her companions by a few inches, with a stouter torso. Her costume was yellow, equally faded and stained, and had a large white bib with the words "Let's Eat!" printed on it. Her head was more spherical, with a large, orange (and for whatever reason, toothy) beak. Chica's purple eyes sat a bit more sunken-in in her costume's eye sockets, making her appear to have dark circles around her eyes.

Mike's smile became a bit more forced as the band began playing their first song. The cringe-worthy lyrics and 80's stylings clearly indicated their song list had never been updated since it opened. What was striking, however, was the fluidity of the robot's movements. Yes, the starts and stops were a little bit jerky, but limbs moved smoothly as they sang, mouths opening and closing in near-perfect timing with the lyrics. They even took small steps about the stage, and their faces were surprisingly (and unsettlingly) expressive. Taking a quick glance at the few diners, it seemed they also shared a similar sentiment, with parents looking off-put by the animatronics' appearance.

Eventually, the grating music took its toll on Mike, and he sought refuge in the Security Office as he went to grab his uniform. The songs followed him down the hall, and again the newly hired guard had to wrinkle his nose at the state of the place. The walls and floor with deeply stained, cracks and holes adorned the walls, and several ceiling panels were missing in this part of the building also, allowing pieces of wiring to dangle freely. Trash sat in the corner.

I thought they said this place had a janitor, Mike thought. Clearly he wasn't a good one. He reached the end of the hallway and found his new office.

Cramped didn't begin to describe it. The room was barely big enough for a small rolling chair and a desk, upon which sat a phone, a fan, a large black square, and a small monitor on what looked like a video tape suite. A single light hung over the desk, with most of the light coming from the fluorescents in the hallway. The office sat between the two long hallways that led back to the Dining Area, with a large window on each side. Mike found his uniform on the chair, and picked it up to sit in it. Looking around, he found that there were two large buttons easily in arm's reach by each doorway. One button, currently glowing red, was labeled "DOOR" while the other, a blue color, was labeled "LIGHT." He pushed the second button experimentally, and a large spotlight shined on the space right by the window. Curious, he pressed the "DOOR" button on his right.

Mike nearly leapt out of his skin as a huge steel door dropped from the top of the doorframe, clacking as it locked into place. He rapped his knuckles on it, finding that it was solid metal, and looked very thick.

Talk about overkill, he thought, Why make this a bomb shelter? Mike looked at the uniform he was given. It consisted of a dark gray shirt, black slacks, and a black ball cap with "SECURITY" stitched across the front in white thread, all wrapped up in a large plastic bag. The contents stunk of heavy disinfectant.

Tucking the clothes under one arm, Mike exited the office, stopping to watch a little bit more of the animatronics perform, and noticed a dark doorway with a sign out front. Stepping closer revealed the sign read "Area Closed." A quick glimpse inside revealed a small addition to the main Dining Area, almost completely dark from lack of lights, with a small stage up against the wall to the left. A security camera hung from the ceiling, but as opposed to looking at the room's entrance or open space was instead aimed at the stage. Purple curtains with a star pattern were lowered, and another sign, this one much older, was posted in front. "Sorry, Out of Order!" it said.

Not wanting to get in trouble from looking in a closed-off section of restaurant, Mike left his investigation there. He gave one last glance at the robots onstage as they finished their show before exiting the restaurant and crossing the parking lot to the bus stop. It would do him good to get a little bit of rest before his shift started.

Hours later, Mike sat in his uniform on the bus heading for the small shopping center Freddy Fazbear's sat across the street from. As the pizzeria came into view, its faded exterior lent a more sinister air with all of its external lights turned off, and a parking lot empty except for a small pickup truck. The temperature of the air outside dropped sharply once night fell, and Mike hugged himself against the chill as he quickly strode towards the darkened restaurant.

Lights were on inside, thankfully, and Mike knocked on the main doors. A few moments later, a portly, older man answered with a mop over his shoulder.

"You the new guy?" he asked. Mike nodded, and the man gave him a grim look before extending a hand. "Name's Frank, I'm the janitor."

"Mike," Mike replied, shaking the offered hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Uh-huh," Frank said, "I'm just about finished. Your shift starts at midnight. We ration the power at night to cut costs, so you might want to get into the office before then."

"Alright. Thanks for the advice," Mike said.

"Yep," Frank replied, and looked Mike up and down. "Good luck, kid." Mike couldn't help but chuckle.

"C'mon, how hard can it be? I just gotta watch the place," he said. Frank opened his mouth to say something, but instead set his jaw and nodded before turning away.

Mike followed the janitor's advice and went directly to the office. The single light over the desk was lit, illuminating the wall and the myriad of junk hanging from it. A large poster of Freddy and the band, several children's drawings, and random pieces of paper hung from a corkboard that was mounted next to the monitor bank. A black metal square sat on the desk.

Curious, the new guard picked it up, feeling its heft in his hands. A large button poked up from the right side, accidentally getting pushed as Mike turned the device in his hands. The screen flickered to life, revealing itself as a large tablet.

This has to be expensive, Mike thought, now handling it much more tenderly. The image on the screen appeared to be some sort of camera feed, and a map was visible in the bottom right corner. Security cameras, maybe? The tablet seemed to be tuned into the camera aimed at the Dining Hall, and Frank could be seen wiping down one of the long tables. Mike watched as he checked his watch, and suddenly dropped everything he was doing, quite literally in the case of the cleaning equipment. The rotund janitor strode quickly out of frame, and Mike could faintly hear the sound of the front doors opening, closing, and locking.

What's his hurry? Mike wondered, looking at the mess left on the tables. Can't even clean up his own mess. Ass.

Not wanting to get blamed for Frank's actions, the new night guard rose from his chair, but froze when a series of sharp clicks sounded from deep within the restaurant. One by one, the lights snapped off, except for a few select emergency fixtures, and the distant hum of the building's ventilation settled into the background. The office was suddenly plunged into near-darkness, the only light coming from the lamp on the ceiling and the tablet's soft glow. The fan, Mike noticed, continued to spin, unperturbed by most of the pizzeria going offline.

The blackness seemed to creep in slowly through the doorways, making it difficult to resist shutting the doors for the peace of mind six inches of solid steel created. Mike took a steadying breath.

Okay. Okay. It's just dark, you're fine, he told himself. Wait a second, the phone messages!

Mike saw a red light flashing on the phone sitting on the desk, and pushed the button next to it.

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night..."

Mike clenched the tablet tightly, eyes glued to the screen. This didn't make any sense. The animatronics walking around? Stuffing people into suits? What the hell kind of place was this?! Why was it assumed the carpets needed to be cleaned? What got on the carpets? The phone message left more questions than answers, leaving Mike sweating in his chair as he forced himself to watch the animatronic characters on the Show Stage. So far, they were unmoving.

An hour passed, and Mike found himself starting to relax. This has to be a joke, he thought, Just a big practical joke they play on the new guy. He began to chuckle softly as the realization hit him. Of course it was a prank. What the phone guy said was ridiculous. Mike leaned back against the chair in relief, panic draining from him and leaving him in a relaxed stupor. Until a sharp static burst from the tablet. The camera feed had dissolved into white snow which lasted for several seconds before seemingly fixing itself and going back to normal. Except the chicken was missing.

Mike's heart dropped. A definite gap now lay on the bear's right. The joke wasn't so funny anymore. He tapped furiously on each box on the map, scanning through the cameras, until a figure appeared briefly in the scrolling images. The guard suppressed a shout of surprise as the view of the Dining Hall now showed the chicken standing prominently in the middle of the chairs, giving a slack-jawed stare at the camera. Even more distressing, the mess Frank had left had been cleaned up. Mike sat rooted to his chair.

The night only got worse as the rabbit animatronic left as well, and the pair wandered about the restaurant. The closest one of them ever got to the Security Office was the beginning of the West Hall, but that had been near enough for Mike to punch the door's control button. The hours crept by at an agonizingly slow pace, but soon a chime went off (nearly scaring Mike out of his skin), and the clock proudly flashed 6:00 am. Shift complete.

Mike fell limp in his chair, relief once again washing over him. The fan gave him a spinning ovation as it vigilantly did its duty in blowing a very small amount of air into the guard's face. The sound of keys turning the front door's tumblers sounded not even a minute later, and a voice called out.

"Schmidt?" It was Arianna.

"Yeah?" Mike called out weakly.

Footsteps sounded along the hallway followed by Arianna sticking her head in the open right door. She looked him up and down.

"You made it," she said, expressionless, and looked at the tablet, "Nearly ran out of power, we don't have much stored up. Don't let the power run out, the fridges will thaw and you will be in charge of replacing any lost ingredients." Mike found his voice.

"What? After that whole thing with the robots, that's what you have to say?" Mike asked, bewildered. Arianna ignored him.

"Whatever, just get back here tonight. You're contractually obligated to complete at least two weeks," Arianna reminded roughly, before turning on a heel and walking away. Mike chased after her.

"Hey, hey, wait just a second!" he said, "What the hell's up with the robots?"

"What about them?"

"Oh, gee, how about the part where they're alive?" Mike asked. Arianna's gaze hardened into a glare.

"Do not yell at me, Schmidt. I own you for the next eleven days, so you better shape up if you still want this job," she threatened. Mike laughed.

"You can have it," he fired back, "Because there is no way in hell I am doing that again."

"You're going to do for at least two weeks or I will see you in court. Do. Your. Job, Arianna said pointedly, before turning and storming away. Mike sat, dumbfounded. He debated following and yelling at her more, but decided there would be no point. He growled in anger, kicking the chair aside, not caring if he damaged it.

This is ridiculous! he thought, terrified of the prospect of another night of live robots. Hesitantly, he crept down the long hallway leading back to the Dining Area. He kept his gaze locked at that now motionless animatronics standing on the stage, and left the restaurant. Upon reaching the safety of the parking lot, he allowed himself a sigh of relief. Focus, Mike. It's just two weeks. Only thirteen more nights, then you can quit without being dragged to court! He threw a rude gesture at the double doors behind him.

"Nice," a voice said. Mike looked up and saw the teenaged hostess from before. "Real classy. Good thing the boss didn't see you, or she'd tear you a new one." Mike just fumed.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?" he asked sharply.

"Uh, newsflash genius, it's June," the hostess fired back, "And I got a pretty sweet gig workin' full time here over the break. Hardly anyone ever comes in, so I just have to sit back and relax. "

"Well ain't that swell?" Mike replied sourly. The hostess's expression softened.

"You're the new night guard, right?" she asked. Mike nodded. "Man, I don't envy you. But hey, at least you made it through your first night!"

Mike noticed something odd about her tone.

"You're making it sound like that's not a common occurrence," he said.

"It's not," the hostess replied, "Lots of times I don't even see the guy. Nobody does. He'll agree to work at night, but the next morning there's nobody around. So props for stickin' around."

"Gee, thanks," Mike said sarcastically.

The hostess smiled. "Don't mention it. I'm Kelly, by the way." She extended a hand, and Mike shook it.

"Mike," he said.

"You're coming back, right? Tonight?" Kelly asked.

"I'm supposed to," Mike said, "Got no choice, right?"

"Well, hey, hopefully I'll see you tomorrow morning too," Kelly said, and walked into the restaurant.

Mike tried to ignore the possibly sinister subtext.

A/N: This will be the only author's note from me for this thing, since I just want to focus on the story and let it stand on its own, but I figured this first bit deserved an explanation. So let's jump right in:

Hello! Welcome to "Just Another Night at Freddy's", now being rewritten, remastered, and kept into one story! Yes, after a long period of waiting for the next iteration of the series, I present an ongoing re-do of everything you've seen before! ...Please hold your applause.

I know what you're thinking: "But Delta, all those other stories are good, so why are you redoing them?" Good question, hypothetical reader! Because to me, those stories turned into a little bit of a mess. A whole mishmash of abandoned arcs, characters, plot holes, and backpedaling that came from having a series that had to adapt to games as they came out. The solution? Take a cue from the videogame industry: Wait for a half-year, then release everything again, except retooled and with all the DLC put back in.

You see, I now have a universe with characters, settings, and more fleshed out, and it's grand. I also know what the hell I'm doing, and have gotten better as a writer-person-guy. So I wanted to retool everything, make it all flow and fit together nicely so I can keep my sanity. Consider this the new official canon, I guess.

What this does not mean is that I will be copying and pasting everything from before. That'd defeat the purpose. Instead, I'm rewriting everything (yes, EVERYTHING), keeping the same premises, perhaps but still throwing enough twists and turns to try and keep things interesting. Sure, some stuff you'll see coming, but I'm going to put a lot more meat on this story's bones and really flesh everything out. I'll also probably finish it. Maybe. We'll see. Fingers crossed.

"But Delta, I like the old stuff!" I hear you say. Okay, great! It's not going anywhere. I'm not deleting it, even if there are some that I now WANT to delete. I'm keeping it up there, memories of super-happy writing-times passed, but I want to give this story the treatment it deserves. Starting here. Let's get this show on the road.

-DeltaV "Totally Not Giving Up This Time"

DISCLAIMER: Oh, before I forget: I do not own the rights to Five Nights at Freddy's nor the rights to any related official merchandise or media. This is a non-profit fan work done for entertainment purposes only. I'd like to think I own the details of my alternate universe, any original characters, and my original characterizations of existing characters due to their ambiguous nature in official canon. Any non-credited examples of this work on any site other than this one has not been approved by me; and should be considered plagiarism to the extent possible due to the nature of this as a fan creation. Please support the official release.