I huffed in frustration as I scrubbed the soapy mess on the floor harder. How a kitchen could be so grimy yet still viewed as sanitary in regards to operation and the service of food is beyond me. I sighed and paused my vigorous attempts at cleaning to wipe the layer of sweat from my forehead with the back of my sleeve. How come I always get stuck with the worst jobs? And the graveyard shift, too. Guess that's what I get for applying to a fast food place halfway through the summer.

I glanced up as my coworker nemeses, Alice, sauntered by. She could always find a way to screw up my day. I grimaced internally at the smirk she currently wore on her face. There was bound to be trouble afoot.

I gasped in shock and anger as she purposely knocked a full cup of soda onto the floor I was mopping. She snickered and sneered mockingly, "Oh, I'm sorry (y/n). Were you cleaning there? Here let me help you."

I fumed with rage as she scooped some of the spilt beverage back into the cup and splashed it across the front of my uniform. If only looks could kill. I snarled angrily and snapped the mop in two across my knee. I threw the broken utensil to the floor and stomped out of the kitchen. As the door to the restaurant closed behind me, I screamed, "I quit!"

I jumped into my car and shoved the key into the ignition, mumbling curses under my breath. I turned to my favorite radio station and allowed the music to wash over me, slowly relaxing my trembling figure. After a few minutes, I was pretty close to being back to normal. Well, as close to normal as I can get with a soaked, sticky uniform and my now lack of occupation. I bit my lip nervously. That job was my only source of income. I was barely scraping by as it was. Now what was I going to do? No way in hell was I moving back with my parents. I'd have to find a new job and fast.

I pulled into the driveway of my home and trudged my way inside. I stripped myself of my messy uniform and took a hot, relaxing shower. When I was fully relaxed (and out of hot water) I wrapped my (h/l) (h/c) hair in a towel and threw on some sweat pants and my favorite shirt. I went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate then sat down at the table to browse the newspaper for available jobs.

After about twenty minutes of searching, I slammed the paper down on the table, growling in irritation. I couldn't find anything! I groaned and softly banged my head against the table... Multiple times. In a last ditch effort to find something, I flipped to the last page of ads. My eyes landed on an add for a place called Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Apparently they were looking for a security guard to look over the place from 12 a.m. to 6 a.m.. Not the best hours in the world and the pay was horrid at only $120 for five nights, but at least it was something. If I combine that with the money I'll get from my previous job, it'll last me for just a little while. At least till I find something better.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was 3 a.m.. I yawned tiredly and set the paper back on the table. I quickly circled the phone number with a sharpie then went straight to bed. I'd give the owner a call later in the morning.

- timeskip to 8 a.m. brought to you by Freddy singing-

I drug myself out of bed and went straight to the phone. I dialed the number I circled the night before and sat on the edge of my chair as the phone rang. On the third ring, the phone was answered by a man's voice. "Hello, this is the owner of Freddy Fazbear's speaking. How may I help you?" he asked in a bored, monotone voice.

"Um, hi. My name is (f\n) (l\n) and I was calling to respond to an add about a night guard position I saw in the paper," I said quickly if not a bit pleadingly.

The owner seemed to perk up some at this. "Oh really? That's great! How soon can you start?"

My eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Oh, er, as soon as you'll have me!"

"Fantastic! Can you start tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah, that'll be fine. Uh, thank you sir. But... Don't I need an interview or something?" I asked hesitantly.

He paused a moment. "Just... Come in at 11. I'll show you around and tell you what you'll need to do. We'll just consider that your interview."

I giggled to myself. "Sounds great. Again, thank you sir. I'll see you then." I hung up the phone and fist bumped the air. "Excellent! Man, that was almost too easy." I made some coffee, grinning widely with glee, and went about my day.

- time skip to 10:59 brought to you by Bonnie playing the guitar-

I drove into the parking lot and parked by the door. While the place was obviously closed at the time, it looked as if it hadn't got much service in a while. I wonder why they need a night guard for a place that seems like a Chuck E. Cheese wannabe.

I walked into the building and into what I assumed was the main room. There were multiple round tables littered about the room with chairs circling them. This setup wrapped around a wooden stage where an animatronic bear, bunny, and chicken stood. Looking over to the left I saw another, smaller stage but a purple curtain with yellow and white stairs was draped in place, blocking my view. I guess there's another animatronic back there since there's a sign that says "Sorry. Out of order."

I heard a door close off to the left and saw someone walking out of a storage room. The person looked to be a slightly balding man in his late forties or early fifties. He glanced my way and saw me, a huge grin appearing on his face. He clapped his hands and said, "Ah, you must be (y\n)."

I nodded, smiling softly, and said, "Yes sir. Are you the owner I was speaking to earlier?"

He chuckled and said, "Yes that's me." He took my hand and pumped it up and down furiously. "Jeremy Fazbear, at your service. Allow me to introduce you to the crew." He pointed at the animatronic bear and said, "This here is Freddy. The yellow chicken is Chica and the purple bunny is Bonnie."

I giggled and did a small curtsey. "A pleasure to meet you all."

Mr. Fazbear laughed and said, "Yes, I think you'll do nicely here. Shall I escort you to your office?"

I nodded. "Sure. But if you don't mind my asking sir, what's behind those curtains over there?" I asked, pointing to where the out of order sign was.

Mr. Fazbear seemed to cringe a little. "Oh, Pirate's Cove? That's where Foxy is. He malfunctioned back in 1987 and the company didn't have the money to repair him so we had to shut him down. A shame, really. He was pretty popular."

I frowned some. "Yeah, that is a shame... How about that office?" I suggested in attempts to change the subject.

Mr. Fazbear chuckled nervously. "Of course. Right this way, my dear."

I followed him to the back of the establishment to a small room with electronic doors. There was a metal desk in the middle of the room with a somewhat worn looking office chair. The desk had a fan sitting on it and a small tablet. Mr. Fazbear turned toward me, his smile seeming more forced than before. "All right (y\n), your job is simple. All you have to do is keep an eye on the cameras to make sure nothing changes. Use the tablet to switch to each camera. Keep an eye on the power because it will run out if you're not careful. A simple tap of the door buttons will close the doors. There is a blind spot outside your office so make sure you check your door lights periodically. Doesn't sound so hard, right? I'm sure you'll be fine." He began to quickly back out of the office, almost as if he was afraid of something. "By the way, there's a uniform in the bottom drawer of your desk. You don't have to wear it, but the hat is nice. Have a good night and good luck!"

I raised an eyebrow, wondering what his deal was. I shrugged and sat down in the chair, twirling a little in the seat. I sighed tiredly, staring up at the ceiling. "Six hours, huh? How hard can it be?"