I was in a long, dark hallway. I looked around and saw nothing--nothing but a golden-looking bear. Its mouth hung open, and there were hints of blood near its robotic jawline. The golden bear sat at the end of the hallway, illuminated by a single light. It seemed to be malfunctioning, violently twitching from time to time.
"Who are you?" I asked. My voice echoed off the walls.
The golden bear's empty eye sockets were suddenly filled with white dots, indicating it was aware of me.
"The better question is, how did you get here?" It asked in a distorted voice.
"What do you mean, how did i get here? You're part of my dream," I replied.
"Don't you remember me?" the golden bear asked. I was confused. Was I supposed to recognize this particular robot?
"No, I don't. Who or what are you?" I asked. The room began to spin. Everything was getting heavier by the second.
"Leave," the golden bear whispered.
"What?" I asked. A chill ran down my spine. Something wasn't right. Whatever it was, it felt dreadful.
"Get out," the golden bear said quietly. Its eye sockets suddenly turned pitch black, like someone had flipped a switch.
"I'm trying to understand what's going o--"
"GET OUT!" the bear's sockets flashed white again, brighter this time. Then it let out a deep, ear-piercing scream that forced me to cover my ears. The golden bear's head suddenly levitated--and launched toward me.
I jolted awake, gasping for breath. That wasn't an ordinary dream. It was more of a nightmare--no, something worse than that. Who or what was that robot? I sat up, drenched in sweat.
"Great. Now I have to wash my sheets," I muttered. I groaned and lay back down. Better than wetting the bed, I guess. I closed my eyes, hoping for a better dream than whatever the hell that was.
Beep beep beep beep beep click...
So much for sleep. I sat up in bed and rubbed my face, staring into the dark. the "do you remember me?" part lingered in my mind for a solid few minutes before I snapped back into reality. I glanced over at my bedside table. The neon red display read 11:50 PM.
My head already hurt, and my eyes weren't far behind. I popped some ibuprofen with water, hoping I'd survive long enough to make it to class tomorrow.
* * *
After a shower, I threw on dark pants, a black shirt, a sweater, and running shoes. Then I left my dorm, locking the door behind me. Hopefully the campus guard would let me out this late. If I recall correctly, it shouldn't be an issue. Plenty of students went out at night. I got in my car and started it, letting it warm up. A few minutes later, I pulled up to the campus gates, where a security guard on patrol waved for me to roll down my window.
I obliged.
"What are you doing out so late, son?" the guard asked. His nametag read "Bob." He looked bulkier than I remembered, with deep bags under his eyes. Based on rumors, I guessed he was around twenty-five. He wore the standard uniform and a hat with Stanford University insignia on it.
"I'm heading to my job. I work the midnight shift at a restaurant, Mr. Bob, sir," I replied nervously. Something told me he might not let me through. He studied me for a moment, then pressed a button on his dashboard. The gate creaked open.
"be careful during graveyard shifts. They get to you sometimes," he said. I thanked him and drove off. Luckily, the restaurant wasn't far from the campus.
* * *
Atthe Restaurant
I turned off the ignition and got out. The air was cold, and the whole place felt deserted--not a person or car in sight. But it was almost midnight after all. I walked toward the entrance of the pizzeria. It looked nothing like the ad listing. Sure, there was a cartoonish bear out front with the words "Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria," but the place looked abandoned and run-down. The windows were boarded up, moss clung to the red bricks, and the grass clearly hadn't been cut in months.
When I tried the door, it was locked. So I waited...
Five minutes passed. It was so foggy I couldn't see anything coming. Then, a purple car pulled into the lot and parked right next to mine--of all places.
A man in a purple suit stepped out and approached me.
"Hello. My name is William Afton. I'm pretty sure Henry already introduced me during your interview," he said, extending his hand.
I shook it.
"Yes, he did. I'm the new night guard. Mike Schmidt," I replied, my voice a bit jumbled.
"Ah yes, Mr. Sch--" He paused mid-sentence and stared at me for a bit too long. "Schmidt. You can just call me Afton."
"Okay, Afton." It was only day one, but something about him felt off. The strange pause he took while looking at me felt unusual.
"Well, enough introductions. I'll show you inside." Afton pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. It creaked loudly as he pushed it open. The inside was warmer. The first thing that caught my eye was a booth labeled Prize Corner.
The Prize Corner had various stuffed animals: a bluish-purple rabbit with a red guitar, a fox with an eyepatch and hook, and a bear with a black top hat and bowtie.
"Is that a duck or a chicken?" I asked, pointing at the yellow plush holding a pink cupcake. Afton groaned.
"I swear to god, it's a fucking chicken, not a duck!"
"Oh, sorry," I said quickly.
"Don't even ask me if Bonnie is blue or purple. It's indigo! Don't people know their colors?!" He added, visibly frustrated.
He continued to rant about not being British, but my attention was drawn to something else. There was a gold plush bear in the prize corner that looked exactly like the one from my dream. Same blank white eyes. I couldn't remember the color of the hat or bowtie, but it felt familiar. Like I'd owned that plush before. I started to develop a slight headache looking at it.
"I'm from the United States. I even have the birth certificate to prove it! Are you even listening to me?" Afton asked.
I snapped back to attention.
"What? Oh--sorry, what were you saying?" Great. Now he has incentive to fire me.
"Never mind. it's not relevant," he said, brushing it off. Then, he gestured to the plush. "His name was Fredbear. Before I had to scrap him."
"Fredbear?" I repeated. I glanced back at the plush. "Why did you scrap him?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Afton said coldly. His face darkened, like he'd just relived something traumatic.
"Oh...okay." Yeah. I'm definitely getting fired.
Then, just as suddenly, he perked up. "This way!" he said enthusiastically. This guy is full of surprises.
We entered the dining room. It was surprisingly spacious, considering how small the building looked from the outside. The tables in the room were covered in colorful polka-dot patterns. Chairs looked like guitar necks. Stars hung from the ceiling. It looked like a wonderful place for a birthday party--if it weren't so unsettling.
"Come meet the band!" Afton called. I turned to the stage and saw three massive animatronics.
"Their names are Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy," Afton spoke. They were identical to the plushies from earlier.
"They look scary," I said. Their lifeless gaze felt like it pierced right through me.
"I designed the robotics. Henry did the exteriors," Afton said proudly.
"They're robots?" I asked.
"Yes. We call them animatronics, but yeah—one of my finest creations." Afton still gave me weird vibes, but I couldn't pin down why.
"Oh! Before I forget," he added. He handed me a security vest, keys, and a badge. I put everything on.
"You look good," Afton said. Then under his breath, "You look just like him."
"What was that?" I asked, buttoning the vest
Nothing! Anyway, I'll show you the office before I go. Don't have much time--spent most of it ranting." He led me through a dark hallway to the security office. Oddly, it didn't have doors.
"As you can tell, I'm a busy man. Before I go-- good luck. The pre-recorded calls will tell you what to do."
Alright," I nodded.
"The first night is always the toughest. But I think you'll do just fine," he said with a grin. "Better than the rest of them."
The rest of them?
I sat in the office chair and rolled forward to the desk. A bulky tablet sat there. I found the power button and turned it on. It booted up, displaying the layout of the pizzeria alongside multiple camera feed angles of it. I flipped through the cameras and saw afton walk to the prize corner before disappearing near the entrance. Afton was a weird man, but I'm willing to tolerate it. I really need this job.
The clock read 11:59 PM. It was almost midnight.
What could go wrong?
I sat and waited. As the clock struck twelve, the phone rang. I hit the speaker. Then everything became distorted. My eyes felt like they were under pressure. The room twisted. My stomach churned. My head felt like exploding.
And then--I blacked out...