He stood in a place that looked like his home. Behind him, heavy footsteps approached. Turning around, he saw a man in a purple suit staring through the darkness with glowing purple eyes. In one hand was an axe. Beside him stood animatronics Mike didn't recognize, pristine and brand-new.
"Come on, Michael, I gave you one job: one, find her and free her, but you couldn't even do that."
On his command, the animatronics rushed at him.
Mike ran; he wasn't sure where he was going, but he stumbled through a random door. When his vision finally cleared, he looked around and knew exactly where he was.
Fredbear's Family Diner.
Yellow lights flickered overhead. Tables sat crooked, abandoned mid-meal. The stage loomed ahead.
*No. This isn't right. I shouldn't be here.*
On the floor near the stage stood a small figure wearing a striped shirt, holding a plush Fredbear whose eyes tracked Mike's every move. Part of the boy's head was crushed inward, caved in as if a giant jaw had clamped down and refused to let go. He swayed on his feet, struggling to balance.
"Garrett—" Mike's composure shattered instantly.
Garrett took a step toward him. Then another.
"Mike," Garrett's voice echoed hollowly through the diner. "It hurts."
Mike staggered backward. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't—"
The stage lights flared blindingly. Metal scraped behind him, and Mike spun around, slamming straight into something cold, smooth, and massive.
Circus Baby stood over him. Her face plates were opening and closing just enough to expose the endoskeleton beneath them, her glowing green eyes looking directly at him.
"You're a monster just like the rest of us, Michael," she said, her voice calm, curious, and unnervingly gentle. "So why don't you join us and do what we were made to do?"
The lights flickered erratically before cutting out completely, plunging the diner into absolute silence. Ahead of him in the darkness stood a figure someone he hadn't seen since his sister died.
Mike bolted upright.
Mike sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, letting the images fade. The dream had felt too real, as always. He grabbed his phone and checked the time. It was early, but he didn't feel like sleeping again.
The next few days went by. He exchanged texts with Jeremy here and there, nothing deep. Still no call about the job. He stopped by the pizzeria once or twice. The animatronics were getting stranger and stranger. With adults, they would look at them for long periods of time, but with kids they seemed to work completely fine.
He drove past the pizzeria one day, intending to scout the building again, only to find the parking lot blocked off. Two police cruisers sat near the entrance with their lights flashing, casting red and blue glares across the glass doors. Fazbear Entertainment was already under investigation, and the building was closed to the public.
Saturday morning, Mike got dressed and drove to Jeremy's place. The sun was just cresting the rooftops, washing the streets in warm light.
Jeremy waved from the porch.
"You actually made it," he called.
"And miss my chance to obliterate you two at video games? Never." Mike said.
Inside, Jeremy's brother Jeremiah leaned back on the couch, looking far too comfortable for someone who rarely got a day off.
"Hey, Fritz," Jeremiah said. "How've you been?"
"Good," Mike replied. "You?"
"Same as usual," he said, waving it off.
The three of them sat together and started playing games. Controllers clicked, voices overlapped. The noise of the game swallowed up the stress he had been carrying all morning, though it only helped a bit.
"Okay, that was cheap," Jeremiah said, pointing at the screen. "There's no way that move should've worked."
Jeremy smirked. "Sounds like something someone who lost would say."
Mike didn't take his eyes off the screen. "You two are putting up a great fight for second place. If you keep practicing, maybe in a decade you'll hit my warm-up level."
Jeremiah snorted. "Wow. Confidence."
Jeremiah glanced over. "Just out of curiosity, Fritz... you never told us anything about your family."
Mike's thumb hitched on the analog stick. He let out a dry laugh, keeping his eyes glued to the TV. "What, you want the tragic backstory or the boring version?"
Jeremy blinked. "Uh, either?"
Mike shrugged, shifting his character left. "Dad worked too much, home life was a mess, and nobody talks anymore. Roll credits."
Jeremiah snorted despite himself. "Wow. You really know how to sell it."
"Hey," Mike replied, smirking, "I save the emotional bonding for special occasions."
"Well, if we're talking about family," Mike said, glancing between them, "what about you guys? Where's your family?"
Jeremy's expression shifted, the smile fading a little. "Our parents died a while back. Boat accident during a work trip years ago. They didn't make it back, so we were stuck with relatives until we were old enough to move out."
Mike didn't answer right away. His own family was buried in his father's machines, but he couldn't exactly say that, so he kept his mouth shut. "I'm sorry," he said, and meant it.
"Thanks." Jeremy looked down at his hands. "We were pretty young. Jeremiah practically raised me after that."
Jeremiah shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. "Somebody had to make sure you didn't make a mess."
Mike nodded. "Explains a lot."
Jeremiah cleared his throat. "Anyways… you guys hungry? I'm thinking about ordering pizza." He reached for his phone, already scrolling like he knew the answer.
Jeremy perked up immediately. "Yeah. Definitely."
Mike paused, then shook his head. "I'm good."
Jeremiah glanced over. "You sure? What about a drink?"
"Yeah, I'm good," Mike said.
Jeremiah tapped his screen. "More for us, then."
Jeremiah and Jeremy argued over toppings while Mike stayed quiet. Food held no interest. It was easier than explaining that eating meant dealing with a stomach that didn't work anymore.
Forty minutes and three rounds of fighting games later, a heavy knock came from the door.
Jeremiah was on his feet instantly. "That should be the pizza."
He grabbed the pizza and set it on the table. Steam curled up from the box, and Jeremiah leaned in, already reaching for a slice.
"Smells amazing," Jeremiah said, already biting in.
Mike went back to playing games, fingers moving automatically over the controller. The familiar button clicks drowned out the sounds of eating behind him.
Jeremiah leaned forward, focused on his slice. "You're way too good at this," he muttered.
Mike let out a short breath that might've been a laugh. "Practice."
The screen flashed with movement and color. It finally felt like he was living a normal life, like he was just some guy hanging out with friends.
Then the memory hit. Something from years ago.
Different friends. Laughter that felt meaner than it should have. A small joke that went too far. Garrett's head pushed toward Fredbear's jaw-
Mike blinked hard, forcing the image away. The sound of the crunch never left him. No matter how many years passed, no matter how hard he tried to accept his mistakes and move on.
"You good?" Jeremiah asked, noticing him freeze mid-combo.
"Yeah." Mike's voice came out steady. "Just zoned out."
"Alright, guys, I think I'm going to head home now," Mike said, standing up and setting the controller down. He checked his watch, almost 7 PM. The sky outside the window was already darkening.
Jeremy groaned, leaning back on the couch. "Already? We were just getting to the fun part!"
Jeremiah shook his head with a small grin.
"Don't worry, we can play more another day." Mike laughed softly and pushed the door open, stepping into the dimming light outside.
In his car, he checked the rearview mirror before pulling out. For a second, the back seat wasn't empty. A small shape sat there, striped shirt, slumped forward. Then headlights swept the street, and the mirror was dark. Just shadows. Just a trick of the light.
Mike pulled out and drove home.
Back home, Mike kicked off his shoes, collapsed onto the bed, and closed his eyes.
Sleep came easier than it should have, dragging him straight back into the familiar torment of his nightmares.
Mike's phone buzzed on the nightstand, dragging him out of it. He grabbed it, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the blinds.
The screen showed one new message from Jeremy, sent a few minutes before.
He unlocked the screen and began to read it.
Jeremy: Hey Fritz. Weird update: turns out last night was my final shift. They didn't tell me not to go.
Also, the place is still under investigation, but Fazbear had one last party booked today, so they're doing it anyway. I have to be there. Heads up: someone used one of the old yellow suits. Don't know who or why, but the animatronics have been acting even weirder since then. Be careful if you come by. Gotta run.
Mike stared at the screen.
Someone used an old yellow suit.
He could already guess who it was. His father's face, hidden behind that hideous yellow suit.
He typed back quickly, *Stay safe. Let me know if anything happens.*
Then he got out of bed and started getting ready. If William Afton was anywhere near that building, Mike needed to be there too.