Golden Pain(Five Nights at Freddy's Fanfiction)

What And Who Am I?

((A/N: This is my first FNaF fanfiction I've ever written. Like, ever. So I hope ya enjoy! XD))

She screams. I feel bad for her... But why? I'm supposed to be the sadistic, unpredictable one. So... why is it that I want to stop the others from hurting her? She's the new night guard here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Her name is Mickalie... I think... The others think she's an unsuited endoskeleton, but I know better. She IS in fact, a human. But what do I do? Bonnie and Chica... They're scaring her... How do I know it's them, you ask? Well, Freddy will only ever come out if there's no power left, and Foxy leaves the guard alone for their first night. This is her first night. I could go in there and keep the others away, but I don't want to scare her even more. I guess I could talk to Bonnie and Chica... But then again, they may accuse me of going soft and go after me. Though, I could take them down easily... AND it would keep them away from Mickalie. Yea, I'll give it a shot.

I sneak down the hallway, out of the view of the cameras, as not to scare her. In truth, though I can't explain it, I seem to know where the other animatronics are at all times... I'm just creepy that way. That's how I know Bonnie is at her left door, and Chica is peering through her right window. She screams again, and the sound is so full of pure terror... I think of the night guards' lives which I have ended... How could I ever have done something so cruel? Does it really take a girl to help me realize how twisted and sick I really am? I guess so... Either way, I should probably get on with talking to them. I go down the hallway Bonnie is in, and make the noise that signals we need to talk, in the kitchen. That's the only place where the camera's video feed is disabled. I then move around, again out of sight of the cameras, until I get to the hallway that Chica is in. I send the same signal. Then, I hear Mickalie scream again...

Dammit! I let her see me! I need to be more careful. I back out of her view, but still feel stupid... and really bad, for some reason. I make my way to the kitchen, being even more careful to stay out of the camera's view. When I get there, I see that Bonnie has already arrived. He looks rather irritated with me. Yay... Chica comes in not too far behind me. Both of them look at me expectantly, waiting to hear why I called them down to the kitchen.

"Wh-why do we have t-to kill every s-single one?" I ask, my robotic voice stuttering involuntarily. I haven't been used in years, so it's really no surprise.

"Because. They took our lives. Now we take theirs," Chica replies, as if it's the simplest concept in the world.

"But d-don't you think we've k-killed enough?" I ask again.

"You're going soft, aren't you!?" Chica accuses, her look hardening into one of pure hatred and disgust.

"Wh-what!? No! Th-that's not what I'm s-saying!" I retort. "I'm j-just saying, don't you g-get a little tired of d-doing the same thing a-all the time?"

Bonnie looks down. I can tell he feels the same way. But he's scared of Chica.

"YOU'RE GOING SOFT!" Chica practically screams at me. She comes at me, full speed.

I back away towards the door, fast. I barely get the chance to open it, before Chica slams into me. She knocks me over onto the ground. Out of all of us, she's proven to be the most violent. Bonnie just watches in silent horror. He's unsure of what to do. Upon my impact with the floor, there is a rather bright flash of light. Sparks fly everywhere. I look up and see no one there. I can feel it. It's six. Her shift is over. But my vision begins to fade. My last thought before blacking out, presumably for good, is

'She shut me down...'

***

The clock hits the hour mark. Finally, I'm done. As I'm about to leave, I hear a loud crash, and a flash of light, over by the kitchen. I sigh, wondering how crazy I can possibly be for actually going to see what it was. I cautiously approach the kitchen door. There are no animatronics in sight. My gaze drops to the floor, and I gasp. There is a young boy, probably around my age, sprawled across the floor. He looks badly hurt, and I wonder what could've happened to injure him to this extent. I run over, tossing my things to the side, not really caring about them at the moment. I kneel beside the boy, and check his pulse. I sigh in relief.