The alarm died under his hand. He dragged himself out of bed and pulled on something fresh from the laundry as always. He sprayed on cologne out of habit. He had no way of knowing if it made a difference anymore. He prepared himself and grabbed a few illusion discs he had built using Williams' research, tucking them into his sling bag in case something happened to the primary one.
On the way into town, he remembered the news article he'd read about the new and improved Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. He'd even reached out to the manager. It started with a quick text but ended with a face-to-face meeting, which was awkward; the man wouldn't shut up about how safe the place was and how much everyone loved Freddy's. He told Mike he'd have to wait for an open position because, even though the location was brand new, management had already filled every role. Apparently, the brand's reputation was still good enough to pull in eager applicants, leaving no current openings.
*A job at Freddy's. Yeah. Real smart, Mike.*
But it was necessary. Fazbear Entertainment always covered up things. And William Afton, his father, the founder of everything terrible in his life, had a way of always coming back to places such as his own pizzeria. If he was still out there, Mike needed to track him down before more kids disappeared.
He walked from the treeline down into town during the Monday morning rush. People looked tired from getting up early for work as car horns blared past buses loaded with commuters. Everyone walked past each other like any other day.
What would people think if they saw someone like him? Someone who looked like a zombie. Would they scream and panic, or deny that something like that could exist?
Freddy Fazbear's Pizza stood bright and cheerful in the morning sun, doing its absolute best to look unbothered by its own body count. Bright sign. Clean windows. Mike glanced at his watch: 10:15 AM. Peak hours.
Toys. That was the idea.
If they looked harmless, the children would trust them. Parents, meanwhile, bought into anything that seemed safe enough for their family.
The place was a lot like the last location. Kids laughing. Parents talking. Mike was observing as he made his way in.
He wandered around the place but didn't go anywhere that would get him in trouble. He noticed the other animatronics moving through the building, interacting with kids; it didn't seem real. And there was Jeremy.
An old face in a familiar place. They'd met a few months ago; he used to work as mall security with his brother before getting fired.
"Jeremy?"
Jeremy looked up from where he was seated. "Oh hey, Fritz. Didn't expect to see you here."
Fritz. The alias Mike had been using to keep a low profile. Between his father owning the company and his own past, his real name carried problems he didn't want to deal with.
"Could say the same," Mike said, pulling out a chair right beside him at the long party table.
"Thought I would check this place out," Jeremy said, gesturing to his food. "Maybe even eat something here since it just opened recently. Would you like something as well?"
"It's fine. I'm not hungry."
"I'm actually starting here tonight as a night guard," Jeremy said, "so I thought, why not show up and get a bit familiar with the place?"
"Night guard? Here?"
"Yeah. Exciting, right?" Jeremy offered a dry laugh. "Six hours of staring at cameras. I'm also going to have to fix my sleep schedule so I can get some proper sleep."
Mike shrugged. "Six hours in a dark room watching monitors for killer robots? Sounds like a thrilling career move, Jeremy."
"I'm more worried about their free-roam feature," Jeremy said, pointing to Toy Bonnie, who was standing and staring from right behind them. "I heard people say that the animatronics at Freddy's shove you into suits, though being an animatronic would be interesting. Say, have you heard about their facial recognition? Apparently, it's tied to some kind of criminal database because of kids going missing at the previous location. But they mostly just stare at adults for no apparent reason. With all the stories about the last place, I wouldn't be surprised if these guys were somehow possessed."
"You don't actually believe those stories, do you? People will say anything for a good story."
Jeremy met his eyes for a second. "Who knows? For all we know, they could be, but rumors are just rumors; they aren't always reliable."
"But why at Freddy's of all places?" Mike asked. "If you already heard about their reputation, why would you still want to work here? Surely there are better options."
"My brother said the same thing. Sure, this place doesn't give me life insurance and barely pays me minimum wage, and the stories about this place aren't something people should ignore, but I've already tried other nearby places, and they turned me down. However, this place is still paying something, and at least they promised me free pizza."
"Free pizza sounds great until you realize it's framed as employee compensation. They're spending millions on shiny plastic robots and paying their staff in grease."
"As long as I'm getting paid for my time, that's all that matters."
Arms crossed loosely, Mike leaned back. "Anyways, speaking of your brother, how are things going with him? Does he still work at the mall?"
"He's doing great, and yes, he still works there. But I still think they unreasonably fired me. I mean, sure, I punched the guy who I thought was kidnapping a kid, but how was I supposed to know that kid was his son?"
Mike chuckled. "Sounds exactly like something I would do."
"So," Jeremy said eventually, clearing his throat, "you busy this weekend?"
"No, I've been losing my mind with how boring things have been these past couple of days. Why do you ask?"
"Well, why don't you come over then?" Jeremy offered. "We haven't gotten the chance to hang out in weeks."
Mike thought about it. "Sure," he said. "Why not? I was getting bored anyway."
Jeremy smiled. "Well, I think I should head home now. My brother will be back soon, so I should get back as soon as possible and do some chores so he doesn't start scolding me."
"Well, good luck with that," Mike said. "Say, are you going to be coming back here again?"
"Not sure yet," Jeremy replied. "Guess I'll see if I'm busy for the next couple of days."
Jeremy finished his food and offered Mike a ride home, but Mike refused; he hadn't really told anyone where he lives and absolutely had no plans to do so. Besides, who would want to be roommates with a corpse?
He walked back to his house, dropped his bag by the door, and collapsed onto the couch. He flicked on the TV. His favorite, Immortal and The Restless, had been canceled, leaving him with season 3, episode 8 of a backup show. He closed his eyes and drifted off by the time it ended. Aside from watching reruns, sleeping was the only way to kill time without accidentally shedding a fingernail in public.
Bad luck always seemed to follow him outside from time to time. Once, a mugger who pulled a knife on him dropped his wallet and ran the second Mike clicked off his illusion disc and let his purple grin say hello. Another time, a golden retriever sprinted down Main Street with Mike's left hand in its mouth. The skin grew back, but he took genuine comfort in imagining the owner trying to explain a decomposing human limb on their living room rug.