A/N: Greetings! In case the summary wasn't clear enough (it almost certainly wasn't), this is basically my take on Sister Location in the style of FNAF 1, except I ended up changing several things in order to avoid it being a generic FNAF 1 reskin, so now it's more like 40% FNAF 1, 40% Sister Location, 10% elements of the other games I decided to put in, and 10% original ideas I came up with while I was figuring out the plot. As for how this ties back into the original games- more specifically, the exact point where it diverges from the canon timeline- that'll be addressed later on. For now, enjoy our lovely protagonist making a fool of himself instead!

...

...God, he needs a babysitter.

Warning: This chapter contains several references to suicide.

My maddened, off-key screeching echoed around the halls of the empty pizzeria as I whirled in circles on the swivel chair the company had thoughtfully provided for me. My fingers were starting to ache, I was getting pretty dizzy by this point, and my throat was hurting a little from all the screaming...

...and I couldn't care less.

Because as far as I knew, I had the entire building to myself for the next six hours, and like hell I wasn't going to abuse that privilege.

"KILL YOURSEEEEELF!" I sang obnoxiously, nearly whirling out the door. "IT'LL BE OVER IN A MINUTE! YOU'LL BE GLAD THAT YOU DID IT! JUST GO OVER TO YOUR OVEN AND SHOVE YOUR HEAD IN IT!"

In hindsight, it's pretty easy to see why the animatronics decided to attempt to kill me. I probably would've wanted to kill me in their place, too (well, more than I usually do).

However, in order to understand why I was spinning around standing on a swivel chair playing an air keytar while screaming Bo Burnham's "Kill Yourself" at the top of my lungs at midnight in a children's pizzeria in the first place, some mandatory exposition will very likely be required.

Such is the danger of beginning a story in media res, I suppose.

It seemed to be a relatively innocent children's entertainment venue. With a name like "Circus Baby's Pizza World," you wouldn't really expect anything but a generic Chuck E. Cheese ripoff.

Was I particularly proud of being reduced to the level where I had no other option but to attempt to get a job in such a place? Absolutely not. But I wouldn't be particularly proud of starving to death, either, and given how much money I'd ended up having to spend moving into this new house, that could end up a very real possibility.

My initial introduction to the restaurant didn't change much from my earlier interpretation of it. A bunch of garishly colored robots that were just creepy enough to make me slightly paranoid but nothing more? Pretty much the norm for places like this. Screaming herds of children twirling in cacophonous spirals that made me wish I'd bought noise-cancelling headphones before coming here? Well, admittedly I hadn't expected a place like this to be that popular among children, but it certainly wasn't unheard of.

The interview was surprisingly brief, but if they were going to be practically handing out jobs with decent pay, I wasn't going to question it. The contract was a little... off, but not so much so that I wasn't going to sign it anyway.

And that was that. I was hired as the security guard on the night shift and told to come in a little before midnight to begin my shift. Apparently they'd left behind some recordings for me to listen to just in case I was a complete idiot (which wasn't the case but also wasn't far off the mark), but I didn't bother to listen to them.

Instead, I carefully swept the entire restaurant to make sure there was nobody else around, and as the clock chimed twelve I selected my instrument. Most average idiots would have immediately jumped to an air guitar as their weapon of choice. I, however, am an intellectual, and so I opted for the more refined air keytar.

With that out of the way, all I had to do was decide what song I was going to humiliate myself with by singing off-key. Naturally, I chose an old classic.

"Have you ever felt sad or lonely? Have you ever felt two feet tall?"

I actually had zero clue what playing a keytar was like, but I'd learned piano before and that was close enough that I felt I could play air keytar well enough.

"Have you ever thought 'man, if only I was anybody else at all?'"

In general, I can't be expected to remain serious for very long, especially when left unattended. I'm able to put up a pretense of formality when needed, absolutely- I was able to pretend to be a competent, responsible individual throughout the entirety of the job interview, after all- but I can't keep it up forever. I'm only human.

"They like to kick you when times get rough, and you give your all, but it's not enough!"

With that in mind, then, it was quite admirable that I'd managed to remain comparatively placid for so long.

"And sticks and stones might break your bones, but words can break your heart!"

However, nothing lasts forever, and... well, let's just say I got too into it.

"So if you don't know where to go I'll show you where to staaaaart!"

So the next thing I knew, I was spinning around the office, standing on the swivel chair, horribly butchering the chorus of one of my favorite songs while simultaneously demonstrating how not to play an air keytar.

"KILL YOURSEEEEEELF!"

I'm very good at multitasking, as you can see.

It was about when I'd gotten to the end of the second verse that a garbled robotic voice shrieked "OH, BIRTHDAY BOY!" from the depths of the pizzeria, and that's when we get into really big trouble.

"Wait, what the hell was that?" I wobbled and fell from the chair, just barely managing to catch myself before face-planting onto the dirty floor. With a reluctant groan, I pulled myself up again and booted up the company-issued laptop. "At least I don't have to leave the debatable comfort of my office to check."

It's quite likely that you're thinking that I'm being far too calm about this, and you're right, I was. I could come up with several justifications for this that you'd probably be dumb enough to believe... or I could just admit that I was only able to keep up an outer semblance of calmness because I'm a fairly decent actor.

In hindsight, I don't know why I bothered. It's not like I thought anyone would see me or anything.

I am not a very logical individual.

I frantically clicked around the cameras for a couple seconds before realizing that the white robot bear with the hand puppet was missing from the main stage, having shifted position to the dining hall in front of it. He flashed a slightly deranged grin at the camera before swinging his head back towards the stage, as though he'd heard something. After a moment of hesitation, he walked back up onto the stage and froze in place, as though nothing had ever happened.

"...what?" I blinked hesitantly, unsure whether any of that had actually happened. Just to be sure, I did a quick scan of the restaurant, but everything seemed fine: the three robots on the stage- the clown with pigtails, the ballerina, and the aforementioned bear with a rabbit puppet- were standing there placidly as though they were about to perform, and the fox animatronic was slumped over, deactivated, on its own separate stage.

"...must've imagined the whole thing." I shook my head, instinctual self-distrust setting in, only to be stopped mid-shake by the phone ringing.

A night call? Who'd be calling a place like this at midnight? I picked up the phone and held it a careful distance from my ear, just in case there was someone on the other end with an air horn. (I had a bad experience with that once.) "Hello?"

"...would you happen to be the night guard?" a young woman's voice asked quietly.

"Uh, yeah, th-that's me." Naturally, paranoia quickly set in. "Who are you?"

The voice completely ignored my question- not suspicious at all. "Listen carefully to what I am about to tell you. If you do not listen to me, you will die."

"Wowie, I'm getting death threats now? I'm pretty sure that's one of the first signs that you're famous! Golly, I honestly never thought I'd hit this milestone!" A stupid thing to say, really, but I tend to get pretty snarky when I'm stressed. Probably a coping mechanism or something, like most of my behavior is.

Again, the voice completely ignored me- a shame, I thought that was a fairly clever quip. "The animatronics in this establishment, as I believe you just saw, are not deactivated at night."

"How unfortunate." Did this mean the robot really had moved? Well, golly, what else could it mean, you idiot? I snapped at myself mentally a couple seconds later.

"Indeed. They are left active at all periods and allowed to freely roam the building. Unfortunately, they tend to grow... restless. They don't like that the people in charge of this establishment believe that they need to be monitored at all times, and in their irritation, will very likely try to kill you."

Most people would've called out the person on the other end as a coworker trying to pull some lame excuse for a prank, but I'm not most people. In a way, I was almost hoping that whatever the lady on the other end was saying was true- it'd probably be the most exciting thing that happened to me in the entirety of my pathetic life.

"I don't think that they'll put in a lot of effort to come after you tonight." the woman continued. "They probably don't expect very much of you."

And they are completely right, I thought, though I kept silent.

"They will only send Funtime Freddy after you, but he should be relatively easy to counter. You see the large red buttons next to the doors on your left and right?"

"Yeah..." I replied hesitantly. Given some of the high-tech stuff this place apparently had, I was half expecting a lightsaber to pop out of the wall as I pressed the button on my right. Instead, all that happened was that a metal door slammed down from the ceiling with a resounding clang.

I flinched slightly, pressing the button to open the door again. I've never been good with loud noises. "Alright... if I've got these doors, then why don't I just keep them shut all the time?"

"That's because the building's power will cut out if you use them for too long, dummy." A hint of annoyance entered the woman's voice, though it quickly returned to neutral as she continued. "Freddy will wander down the hallways towards your office. Usually, he will simply shout various recycled lines from his shows as he walks down the hall, and you will need to close the appropriate door depending on where you hear him coming from."

"Seems pretty straightforward." I nodded.

"However, you will need to pay close attention to what he says. If he says something along the lines of 'Get ready for a surprise,' then you need to immediately shut the opposite door. When he says that, he will send his puppet to loop around the building and attack from the other side. If you do not react quickly, you will die."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're telling me a tiny plastic hand puppet is going to kill me?"

"No, but he will break the door on that side. That will leave it free for Freddy to circle around and enter the office."

"...okay, that makes sense. Is that all?"

"For tonight, yes. I will tell you if anything changes."

"Alright, got it. Thanks for the tips."

"...you're being awfully calm about the prospect of death by robots." ventured the voice slowly.

I let out a deadpan sigh. "Well, in the words of a great man, 'This might as well happen. Adult life is already so goddamn weird.'" I'd been waiting almost half a year for an opportunity to use that quote, and now seemed as good a time as any.

"...well, I suppose I will leave you to it." the woman said. "If things change tomorrow, I will let you know." With that, the phone went dead.

With an apathetic sigh, I leaned back in my chair and brought up the tablet. "Alrighty. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Though the next several hours weren't as stressful as they could've been, they were certainly quite nerve-racking nonetheless. I watched Funtime Freddy like a hawk (forgive the overused simile) as he wandered around the building, slamming the doors shut in his face whenever he even came close to them. I didn't think I'd ever get used to the sound of the doors slamming down, but after an hour I wasn't even flinching anymore. (Good job, me. You finally did something right for once. Proud of you.)

The information the woman had given me proved to be accurate, right down to the detail about the rabbit puppet. I could tell when had given up and wandered off down the hallway, or when the hand puppet had circled back around to him, by the metallic thunk noise from outside when they left. Realistically, I knew he was probably just punching the door out of anger at not catching me off guard (heh, unintentional pun) or something like that, but I chose to believe that he was smacking face-first into the door each time for the sake of the humorous mental images that conjured up.

And just like the lady on the phone had said he would be, he was quite the talkative guy: some stuff, like "Hey, Bon-Bon, I think that's the birthday boy over there! We should go give him a surprise!" was very obviously regurgitated dialogue from the pizzeria's shows, "I see you over there in the dark!" was a bit more questionable but could probably be explained away similarly, but the one time I heard him shout "Big news from Oxi-Clean!" had to have been a glitch, because I couldn't think of any reason why Anthony Sullivan quotes would be programmed into an entertainment robot.

Unless I just hallucinated him saying that from sleep deprivation. I wasn't used to staying up so late, and that kind of thing had happened to me before, so it's not like that was out of the question.

It wasn't until the clock chimed 6 AM- the end of my shift- that it occurred to me to check how much power I had left. As Funtime Freddy stormed back to his stage with an angry cry of "What a party pooper!", I glanced down at the corner of the screen.

There was only three percent left.

Three percent.

There was a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach as I closed the laptop and leaned back in my chair, heart pounding. Just a few more minutes would've been all it would've taken, and I'd have run out of power.

Leaving the doors open for Freddy to get in and kill me.

With a subdued sigh, I stood up and kicked the chair aside. Well, it didn't run out, and there was no point in pondering pointless counterfactuals.

I left the office and made my way towards the door, but stopped at the last second, my attention turning back to the three animatronics on the main stage. For some reason, laughter surged up from somewhere within, but I suppressed it.

Stepping up in front of the stage, I regarded Funtime Freddy apathetically. He didn't look like he was going to jump out and attack me, so I decided to engage in some completely unnecessary gloating. If he was going to try to kill me, I should at least give him a reason to hate me, you know? It's just the courteous thing to do.

"Howdy!" I chirped cheerfully, plastering my best shit-eating grin across my face and hoping he couldn't hear my heart pounding as loudly as I could. "Guess you didn't manage to kill me. Proper shame, isn't it? Not like it would've made a difference if you had, though- I'm already dead inside, so you'd really only be finishing the job for me before I have to."

One of Freddy's faceplates shifted slightly, so I took a subtle step back. "Aw, it's okay, don't cry! Tomorrow's another day, and if you're lucky, you might be able to catch me off guard!" You better bet I'm gonna milk that pun for all it's worth. You're probably going to hear it several times over the next couple chapters. "I'm rooting for you, Freddy! I believe in you!"

With that, I turned and strode towards the exit, humming the first few bars of Sound of Silence. I had a feeling I was going to regret taking this job a lot less than a completely sane person would have.