It was his third night, just his third fucking night, and he was already fucking fucked.

Bonnie and Chica spent the whole night camped outside his doors, that goddamned fox had scratched the ever loving hell out of the left door, and even Freddy was starting to roam around the diner.

Mike repeated a mantra of several fucks with a few shits and dammits thrown in. It was 3 AM and he only had 5% energy left at most.

He knew he shouldn't have taken this job, he'd heard about what happened in '87, but he desperately needed the cash. The pay was shit, but it was enough to pay the rent, at least for a few more weeks.

Of course that wouldn't matter if he died now.

1% left, he was too goddamn young to die. Twenty-five years old, twenty-five and about to be ripped apart by a bunch of murderous fursuits.

This was bullshit.

The lights went out.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Mike smashed his fists against the screen in frustration.

He fell onto the desk, sobbing hysterically. At any moment Freddy would play that stupid song, just like the night before. This time daylight wouldn't come and save him.

Loud metal footsteps came roaring from down the hallway. Mike hadn't heard that last time the power went out, but he hadn't exactly been paying attention. They stopped right outside his door.

"Dum dee dum," a deep electric voice sang from the doorway. But that wasn't Freddy, Freddy didn't do that, only-

He looked up just in time to see the large animatronic fox smash its hook down on him.

Mike's head hurt, a lot. He could barely think with the throbbing pain. He felt cold and stiff, where the hell was he?

A light flashed on his face suddenly, and he recoiled, only to hit his head against a concrete wall.

"Uh, you alright man?"

He recognized that voice, that was the morning security guard. Mike looked up at the source of the light.

"Hello?"

He was shining his flashlight through two familiar purple curtains.

Fuck, last night, running out of power, Foxy, it all came rushing back.

"Am I dead?" asked Mike, half sincerely. He noticed the robot standing just out of outside view next to the curtain, hook raised as if it were about to decapitate the next person who entered.

"Uh, no but," the guard tapped his forehead. Mike mirrored the movement and felt the dried blood caked all over his face.

"Shit..."

"Do, do you need me to call 911?"

And what, tell the police he was attacked by evil robots? "No, I'll be fine. Thanks."

Mike stood up unsteadily and walked past the fox and the other guard. As he passed Foxy, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of movement in its plastic eye.

The cut on his head turned out to be superficial when he examined it in his apartment. Foxy must have used the blunt end of its hook to knock Mike out, otherwise the security guard would most definitely be dead.

The thing that bothered him most wasn't that he had almost died, it was that he didn't. All the other animatronics seemed bloodthirsty, desperately taking every chance to murder Mike. There was even a few close calls with the fox itself on the second night, so what changed?

Maybe Foxy dragged him to Pirate's Cove intending to torture him before jamming him into a Fazbear suit, but was interrupted by the arrival of morning. But surely two hours was enough for Foxy to move Mike and kill him. And why not just do it at the office?

There was another reason, and Mike for the life of him couldn't figure it out.

He had bandaged his head and a few scrapes on his arms before heading to sleep in preparation for his next shift. He slept the day away and woke up at 6 PM.

It was while he was drinking his afternoon cup of coffee that he decided to head to work early and investigate for himself before the animatronics turned lethal.

He knew it was a stupid idea, but Mike was already used to making those.

The evening security guard nodded towards him as he entered at 8 PM, just before Freddy's closed. There weren't many customers, but he couldn't blame them for not wanting to eat at this shithole.

Mike headed off toward Pirate's Cove, flashlight in hand. He made sure to tell the other guard where he was going, just in case Foxy decided to finish last night's business.

He stepped past the out of order sign and between the curtains. Foxy was standing in the center of the stage, facing Mike.

He stood still for a bit, hesitating, but Foxy just stared at him.

Crap, now that he was there Mike had no idea what he was going to do.

"Uh, hey Foxy," he settled on saying. "You remember me?"

No response. Of course no response, free roam mode was offline during the day.

God, he felt unbearably stupid. Did the animatronics even understand speech?

"I, uh, I wanted to say thanks for not killing me," Mike rubbed the back of his neck, "just please don't give me a hard time tonight."

He turned to leave.

A burst of static from the robot surprised Mike, making him fall forwards. He looked up at the animatronic. Foxy's mouth began moving up and down to simulate speech.

"Re - Remember ch-ch-children ta' c-c-come back ta' the-the cove sss-soon!" The voice clip was in a deep stereotypical pirate accent, but it was glitchy and filled with static. The fox's mouth slowly stopped moving.

Mike hesitantly stood back up and nodded towards Foxy, "I, uh, I," he swallowed, "okay."

He backed out through the curtains, keeping an eye on the animatronic before running back to the safety of the other guard's presence.