Be Mine Forever And Ever

June 19, 1995

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"...M...Mi..."

Huh? Whazza- Who's there? Wait...You again... Leave me be. Please.

"...Mik...Mik..."

Mik? Milk? Mickey? What do you want? What. Do. You. Want.

"Mike...save me."

Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

"I...I own you!"

NO! GET OFF OF ME! OH GOD IT HURTS! ARGHHHHHHHHH!

"I OWN YOU!"

/

"NO!" I yell as I jerk from out under my covers. The only thing attacking me is the blares of my alarm clock on my dresser, sickeningly reminding me to get my ass out of bed. I begrudgingly lift myself from my silky heaven and wipe the crust off my eyes. I hated Mondays with a passion, mostly because it reminds me that I have no job to go to. Then again, no job to go to.

After shaking off the drowsiness of sleep, I went to the bathroom to shave, shower, and do my dirty business. Even though I feel like my routine is out of order. I dress in the polo shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of slightly worn out shoes. I wander over to my small kitchen, pull out some Count Chocula cereal and bowl of milk, and eat over in my living room. I absentmindedly flicker through the channels while munching on cheap, watered down chocolate cereal.

I don't care what anyone says. It was all I could afford.

My landline phone starts ringing in the other room just as I settle on watching MTV. I stand and sprint over just as the third ring sounds.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mike Schmidt?" A bored female tone responded, whom I'm guessing is a secretary.

"Speaking."

"Hi, I'm calling about your recent interview with Mr. Henson from KiloW Inc. and I regret to inform you that you have been turned down for the position. As it seems on your resume, you have no previous work experience in the field...or any field at all. I'm very sorry and hope you have a very nice day." She could not have sounded more sacrastic if she tried.

I gingerly place the phone back on the receiver. I proceeded to punch and curse at the wall. And curse louder since it hurt when I struck the hard wall.

Damn. That's the third time in the past two weeks. Fuck. This. Jesus, become an engineer they said, you'll get a job instantly they said.

I walk back to my living room and slump down on my couch while rubbing the sides of my head.

I haven't had a good night's rest in forever. This headache is killing me. And it's only getting worse.

I resume watching TV until at least...I don't know, three hours passed...I've only gotten up to get some snacks every now and then as well as answering the phone to telemarketers trying to sell me...insurance or beanie babies or whatever. There's only so much to see on the channels I've got. Been watching a long interview with a band called...well I wasn't paying attention but something like Nir...Vania? Nirvania? I don't know.

I turned off the tv and grabbed my long coat and umbrella and exited my apartment. On my way to the stairs, one of my neighbors in Room 126, next to mine, was leaving his apartment too. He looked at me and smiled as he approached me.

Great, him again...

"Hey Mike!" He said in his cheery attitude. Of course, always in his 'happy' mood, which in turn always brought a grimace from me.

"Heeey, Scott." I hissed through my teeth as I said his name.

"Where you off to, friend?" He beamed at me with his pearly whites. God that voice is so annoying.

"Oh, just...off to meet a friend. Over at the bar. Nothing major." I stated with slight hesitation. I was hoping that he would just go away or incinerate on the spot.

"That's very nice!" His smile wavered a bit, "Though I would very much appreciate the idea of... us two buds having a good-old-fashioned dinner later! How about it, friend?" He anxiously waited for my answer.

"Oooo, I don't think so. I'm going to be busy later. Maybe next time." Or never.

His smile faltered and seemed like he was forcing it, "Oh, okay, next time then?"

"Whatever." I brushed past him and walked down the stairs.

Meanwhile, Scott was still standing there, no longer with a smile but a determined look. His green irises burned with passion.

"One day...He WILL be mine." He stepped over to the window down the hall and watched as I left through the front of the apartment complex towards my beat up sedan. I started up the engine and pulled onto the road towards Jay's Bar.

Bump, Bump, Bump, Bum-Bump

Jesus, they really need to fix the roads in this city. Hitting a pothole every six seconds.

Today was another 77oF (25oC) day. The sun was shining, clearing the usual, bleak atmosphere of this town. I drove past the homeless bums on the corners of streets, while they held up signs begging for money or shelter or couldn't walk two steps without tripping over one. Others shoveled along carts full of stuff they need to survive, cautious of anyone who tries to steal their possessions.

It's been bad since the new mayor stepped in and really fucked the whole is rising instead of falling and there are less jobs available. Now, all those displaced are just trying to not die. All while the rich over in Arcadia across town are enjoying their lives, unfazed and untouched by poverty. The entire city hated those smug bastards.

I pulled up to the bar and slammed my car door before heading inside to the smokey musk of this city's number one watering hole. The city's well-known drunk, Derek, threw a bottle at the wall next to me and shouted, "Close the door! The light burns!".

Number one watering hole.

I spotted my friend Jackson already poached in one of the tables with his girlfriend, Marie. He noticed me walk in and waved me over.

"Sup, Mike." He said while motioning to the seat across from him.

"Hey guys." I sat down while Marie grinned and said a quick "Hi" to me.

"First of all, I want to say I'm...sorry about what happened to your friend, recently. Read about it in the newspaper." He dropped this day's paper to the page of obituaries with Spike's name in it.

"Yeah...I guess it happens when you screw with your dealer." I closed the page and started to browse the sports section.

"So, how about your last interview? How'd it go?"

"Shit, they passed me over. Said I didn't have experience in the field."

"Really? Damn. Sorry to hear that."

"It's just whatever. It's happened before so I going continue applying til hopefully someone hires me. If not, my degree is just going to sit there on the wall."

Marie pitched in, "Well, how about you get, like, a small job so you can climb up from there."

I put down the newspaper and looked at her, "I've already tried that. Problem is, there's hardly ever any work in this washed up town. A bunch of people are unemployed like me. There a bum on every street corner. I'm lucky I had some money to pay my bills since my warehouse job."

"Well, don't lose hope yet. Maybe there's a job listing in the newspaper."

I flipped through the pages of the paper until I reached the 'Wanted Ads' section. I skimmed through the ads and read them aloud.

"Truck Driver, must have commercial license, nope. Sewage worker? In this town, hell no. McDonald's employee, the pay isn't any good."

"Doesn't seem like anyone in this town needs an engineer." I just stared at Jackson as he realized his mistake before coughing into his hand and looked away.

"God, none of these jobs are any good. Either the pay isn't worth it or needs previous job experience. Which I DON'T have because I have to be employed first." I slammed the paper on the table with the job ads page still open.

Marie took a look at it and pointed to one ad on the page, "What about this one?"

I leaned in to the paper and focused on the ad she was pointing at. It had a small picture of a bear with a top hat and holding a microphone.

"Freddy...Fazbear's...Pizzeria? Looking for a night guard position." When I said that, Jackson's eyes shot wide open.

"WHAT!? Hold on! You can't take that job!" He said to me.

"Why not? Says here you don't need previous job experience. And Hey! The pay is $24.95 an hour! Holy shit!" This has been one of the few times I've actually been excited about a job.

"No! That place is evil! They're looking for a night guard because the last one has either disappeared or been killed! Look!"

He flipped to another page until it came across an article saying 'Another Guard Gone Missing In Famous Kid's Restaurant' showing a picture of the front of the pizzeria looking to hire.

"See what I'm talking about? The fricking police even said that they couldn't find any footage of him disappearing from the cameras. Nobody, no nothing! That place is evil, I'm telling you!"

"Maybe someone broke in and kidnapped him and took the video. Or he ran off because he didn't want to deal with the parents' crappy kids. Whatever, at least it pays well." I took out a marker and circled the ad.

"Mike, please, you're making a huge mistake. Think about it! That ad's been there for the past month and still no one has taken it. Because they don't want to die along with the rest of the night guards!"

"Whatever the job takes, I'm sure I can handle it. Besides, you know me. I like a challenge."

"Not if it's going to kill you!"

"It says that the pizzeria is 'new and improved' so the security could be improved as well. And it's a kiddie restaurant. It's not like anything major will happen. You guys are just overreacting." I check my watch, "if I go now, I can see what the job takes and be the first one to apply since no one else is. Got to go! Bye!" I dash out the door with the newspaper in my hand just as Jackson yelled something to me.

"Mike! Wait!" I push through the door, leaving Jackson and Marie there, "...the Bite of 87...".

Jackson and Marie swerved their heads towards the bar as Derek began to howl in laughter and rocking in his stool. He started coughing from his fit.

"*cough* *cough cough* Hehehe, your friend is as good as *hiccup*...dead." The town drunk cackled uncontrollably before bursting into a fit of coughs.

Unfortunately for Jackson, he knew he was right.

/ 30 Minutes of Driving Later /

Damn, thanks for the GPS, Jackson. Way better than an actual freaking oversized map.

"...Says the place is...around here. But where?...ooohhhh fuck." I said as I approached a large blinking sign with bright, bold, red letters that say, 'Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria'.

Reluctantly enough, I pulled into the crowded parking lot with tired fathers, drowsy mothers, and overzealous kids running in and outside the pizzeria. Luckily, a spot opened up and I parked before anyone else could. Just as I shut off the engine, which sputtered as it did, I started feeling...nauseous.

Ohhhhhh goOOOoooDddd. Ahhhh.

I held onto my hurting stomach as it felt like a thousand stings at once. I was sweating up a storm and it felt I had to throw up or cry out in pain or SOMETHING! Occasionally, a sharp pain would shock my body from my head to my toes and I would let out a weak, barely audible scream. I've never felt this bad, even when I had the flu last year.

Suddenly, as fast as it came, the pain stopped. I became more controlled of my breathing instead of heavy wheezing. Now the only thing is that my crotch was slightly uncomfortable but tolerable. Almost like it had been put through hell or some hot coals. I sucked it up and exited my car. As I got out of my car, the kids immediately started to shriek and scream as they rushed the entrance.

"Come on!" "Freddy's onstage!" "Let's go Mom! They're on!"

I'm glad I wasn't in the swarm.

I walked towards the doors to the pizzeria. But a headache caught on and I had to rub my head as my head felt like someone stuck a metal beam in and melted it. And it only got worse as I inched closer and closer to the pizzeria. My brain pounded and pulsed endlessly while my hands sensed pins and needles. My throat and my tongue felt as dry as the Sahara and I fear that my tearing eyes would bulge out of my sockets if I opened them wider. But still I forced my fucking unresponsive body to walk to the pizzeria. I closed my burning, stinging eyes just as I made it to the pizzeria's double doors.

Oh goooodddd! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE! IT! STOP! I can't take the pain anymore! Someone please make it stop!

"Sir? Sir? Are you alright, sir?"

I opened up my eyes to see a red-haired girl with a name tag, set with the pizzeria's logo. The pain had stopped and I found myself in the large dining hall with kids all crowding the front of a large wooden stage as...three robots were playing on stage, one a brown bear, another a chicken with a bib that says "Let's Eat", and a purple bunny. The bear had a microphone, the chicken had one of its own, and the bunny had a red, electric guitar.

The bear stood forward,

"Hello everyone! So nice to see you again, even some new faces in the crowd! We have a great show for today but first, let's introduce ourselves. My name is Freddy Fazbear!

"Hi, Freddy!" The children shouted back to Freddy.

"My friend over here," he pointed to the chicken, "her name's Chica!"

"Hi, everyone. I'm so excited to see you again!" Chica ecstatically waved to the kids.

"Hi, Chica!" They replied.

"And my great bud over here is Bonnie! Bonnie, say hi to the crowd!" Freddy said.

"Hey guys! Hope you all have a fun time here in Freddy's Pizzeria!" He slung the guitar strap over his shoulder and smiled warmly at the kids.

"Hi, Bonnie!" The kids replied.

"And, as I promised, we're gonna play a song for you. Chica, Bonnie, you ready?"

"Yes sir!" "Uh-huh!"

"1! 2! 3! 4!"

The animatronic band began to sing a upbeat, melodic song with a few subtle, pop-culture references thrown in there. My focus was interrupted by a hand waving back and forth in my face.

"Hellllooooooo? Is anyone there?" The pizzeria girl said to me.

"Wha-Huh? Oh! I'm sorry...uhh *ahem* uhh...I'm here for the..." I stopped.

She just looked at me like I was an idiot.

I reached for the newspaper I stuffed in my back pocket and opened the page to the ad I circled with the marker.

"I'm here...to apply for the night guard position." The girl's eyes opened as wide as saucers in disbelief. She even took a step back away from me.

Guess I still smell like the bar, I thought.

"Uhh...are you sure y-you have the r-right place, s-s-sir?" She didn't believe me.

"I'm pretty sure. This...is Freddy's Fazbear Pizzeria, right?"

She noticeably gulped but nodded nevertheless.

"Can I go see the manager or...someone...uhh, for the thing?"

The girl's lip quivered and slowly pointed down the hall at a door I could see labeled as, 'Manager's Office'.

"Thanks. Take care now." I started to walk away as the girl went pale and sat down hard on a nearby chair. One of the kids was pushed out of the seat because of her. I turned back around and proceeded towards the Manager's Office.

I opened the door and instantly smelled like vodka and the faint waft of cigarettes.

What the hell kind of place is this person running?

Behind a long, wooden desk stood a tall, slightly buff, shaved cut man. He turned around to show his chiseled jawline and muscle body. He stood a bit taller than me and was holding a cigar before he put it out in an ashtray.

Oddly enough, he sounds like the stereotypical Russian guy.

"Oh, hello friend! I am totally normal American Carl Marx. What can I do for you today, fellow American?" He said to me while smiling warmly. I honestly was intimidated by his tall stature, even if he's being friendly. I was still determined to get the position. Hopefully, this will open some doors for a engineering position.

"Uhhh...I'm here for...the nightguard job."

His smile fell and his elated visage turned into a look of confusion, "Are you sure you have the right address, American? Because I-I don't think you can handle that."

"Well, I think I'm more than capable of handling a night alone in a kid's restaurant." I have no idea why everyone's been like this. Even the manager is a bit crazy.

"I don't know. Those words coming out your mouth are exact words tiny worms before you said about job. And then, BOOM!" He clapped his hands together, startling me, "They disappear into thin air."

Regardless of a little bit of fear-mongering, I was still determined to get the job. I had no other place left to go so forget the so-called "risks". It just seems like he's trying to keep me from applying for the great salary.

"Are you sure you are up for such a challenge? It may just be as frightening as wrestling bear in the motherla-uh, forest in America..." He asked me once more, with whatever he was talking about.

With a outstretched hand towards Carl, I said, "I'm ready for anything!"

Carl looked at my hand, sighed, and shook my hand. Internally, I was screaming as I finally got a good job with a good salary.

"Thank you, sir! You won't regret this!" I beamed at my new boss. He didn't seem as excited as I was. It looked as though he was worried. I brushed it aside anyways.

"Right...Let me show you where you new job will be." Carl motioned for me to follow him.

I walked a bit behind him while he led me down a small, semi-dark hallway. I could see one of the male teen staff member leave a room at the end of the hallway with a bucket and a mop in his hands. Only...the mop had red stuff on the bristles. As I passed him, I stopped as a force pulled me back from my wrist. I looked to see the staff member's cold, blank stare. His hair was black and styled to make him look emo. He had bags under his eyes and his stare was close to a thousand yard stare.

"Uhhh...Could you let me go, please?" He just kept staring at me with his lifeless eyes. I did notice how his pupils were dilated and shaking. I gulped.

He opened his mouth slowly, "Fresh...meat..." He said in a raspy voice. I could have pissed myself from how scared I was. I pulled my arm away and walked back to Carl. I tried not to look behind me but immediately regretted as the teen was pointed his finger at me.

At the end of the hallway, there was a small office with a desk with a fan, some plushies that resemble the animatronic band playing on the stage, a black rolling chair, and weird rectangle on the seat of the chair.

"Here is where you will stay between midnight and 6 a.m. You have state-of-art security system, your American toys of Band, and a beautiful picture of Moscow palace on wall." He walks to the chair and hands me the rectangle, "This is advanced tablet that is not available anywhere else. Use it to spy on Band from cameras."

"Cameras? Advanced tech? All this to watch out for burglars in a kid's restaurant?" I inquired. It seemed a bit excessive. Carl furrowed his brow at me.

"Do not question my methods. Show up ten minutes before 12 tonight. That's all I can tell you, comrade. Let me show you to door." He pushed me along all the way to the entrance.

While we began to pass the zealous crowd of children, I noticed how at the other side of the restaurant was a large, purple curtain with stars on it.

"What's that place over there? It doesn't look like any children are there." I said as I pointed to the curtains. Carl's eyes shot wide open and stuttered.

"N-No that is off-limits for puny Americans. Y-you stay away from Pirate Cove. And my vodka!" He once again shoved me but a tad faster than before. I almost tripped as he forcefully shoved me outside into the parking lot.

"Uhh...okay." I began walking towards my car, feeling immensely relieved to be out of that strange place. Whatever's been happening to me for the past hour has left me scared to no end. I just now realized that I've been covered in sweat since I entered that damn pizzeria. I slapped my sweat-covered head.

That's why he wasn't happy. I probably smelt awful. I even shook his hand with my sweaty palm.

I sniffed my pit and recoiled in disgust.

Yup. I. Smell. Like. Onions. Layers of it.

I shook my head and started the engine. I felt bad now so I cracked open my window before pulling out of the parking lot onto the road. While readjusting my mirror, I spotted a figure in the reflection, far back in the window of the pizzeria. It looked like my boss watching me as I left. I thought nothing of it and proceeded back home to get ready for my new night job. But...before I forget...

/ 20 Minutes of driving later /

The sidewalk was cracked and shattered, as always. The cloudy sky only darkens my mood as I approach the City Cemetery. I held a bouquet of brightly-colored flowers as I walked closer and closer to a familiar gravestone. I stopped directly in front of it to read the letters embedded in the stone, "Here lies [Redacted] Schmidt. R.I.P."

No tears. Not this time. It's been too long since the accident. But I can't stop thinking about the memories I had with her, all of them before the crash. The trips with Dad up to the lake. Mom's cooking, even if it wasn't the best in the world. Even the car rides themselves. The car rides made it all worth it. She would always drive me around for different things. Even just menial tasks. I loved it all.

I placed the flowers delicately on the grave and wished that all of them were in a better place. At least they died instantly and without pain. I left the Cemetery behind and drove back home to get ready for the night shift.

When I got back to my apartment, I flopped on my bed and knocked out quickly. I was too tired to even care about anything at the moment. I set my alarm for an hour before midnight and slept soundly.

/ A few hours later /

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"Ughhhhhhh...frickin...thing..." I repeatedly slapped at my night stand to silence the alarm but I couldn't find it. Finally, I pressed the snooze button on the nuclear warhead and jumped out of bed. I wiped the drool off my lip and fixed up my shirt and jeans. I grabbed my keys off the wall and quietly closed the door to my apartment. Unfortunately, I bumped into Scott who was carrying a trashbag.

Ughhh Fucking Scott...

"Hi, Mike! Where you off to?" For some odd reason, he lifted the bag with one hand to allow me to see his flexing muscle which was barely visible from his shirt. I have no idea why he did that. He must like working out with trash.

"I'm uhh...Off to my new job." I stated flatly and without emotion.

"A new job? I'm happy for you Mike! Of course, you could always ask me for financial help..."

"Nah, I'm tired of lounging around. It'd be good to put myself to use. I still have bills to pay by the end of the month so...glad to have a job now."

"Ohh, okay...well, good for you I guess. See you around?"

"Right, sure." I hope not.

I went down the steps while Scott watched me go down. I couldn't tell at the moment that he was a tad bit irritated.

When I was out of earshot, "A job? He could just move in with me and he wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. Damn it Mike, why are you playing so hard to get?"

I entered my car and maneuvered onto the road past a bunch of assholes who wouldn't let me into the lanes. It was a quiet night and the clouds had moved allowing me to see the stars. I opened up my window and let the wind blow as I drove. The street lights and the moon only provided me so much luminescence.

I had arrived. The job I was sure I was ready for. There's no mistaking the Pizzeria sign. And who was there to greet me? Carl was standing at the entrance. He watched over me as I parked in an empty spot. I made sure I had everything before I entered what felt like hell itself. I breathed in and out.

no, Mike I exited my car and forced my legs to walk straight ahead. Carl loomed over me with his arms crossed in disapproval.

"Are you sure you are up for this, comrade?" Carl asked me.

I involuntarily gulped, "Yeah...I'm sure. I can take whatever you throw at me."

He snickered, "I'm not what you should worried about, comrade. It's the Band."

Why did -ou com- ba-k

/

Welp, here it is. The sequel. To anyone who read my first work, I apologize for the long delay. I have come back harder, better, faster, and stronger. To anyone who hasn't read my last work, this may be a bit confusing as to what this story is talking about. But don't worry, I'll try to make it easy for anyone to understand. I've come up with another plan for this story so I expect this to turn out well for a fiction.

I thank you for reading, from the bottom of my heart, and as always,

Have a nice day.