The glass door closed behind you as you were greeted at the desk by your manager. He looked a kind, friendly man, with a bright smile, and lit up eyes. He greets you with a friendly "Hello (Y/N), my name is Carl. Welcome to Freddy Fazbears Pizzeria! I hope I can help you get settled in on your first night here." Carl then lead you around the place. But you noticed a room with a "Sorry, out of order." Sign on it.
You didn't want to seem suspicious; so you carried on receiving your miniature tour. Carl then lead you into the office. A wall of security cameras caught your attention. You looked around. Children's artwork was hung upon the walls, there was a huge celebrate poster on the wall, presumably from a birthday long before '87, because the colours were faded with age, and the edges were a little torn. The room was clean, and had a certain aroma about it that made you feel welcome.. Almost of sea salt... "Well, I best be off, I hope you have a great first night!" Carl beamed as he sauntered away, and out of the building. You stared at the camera screens, hoping to see something... Anything... You were only slightly disappointed when nothing occurred. You slumped down into the chair and played on your phone for a while, it was near 2:AM when you saw the first activity... The large purple bunny, creeping off the stage, in panic you slam the doors shut, and watch in agony as the power tics away. Bonnie seemed to stop in the middle of the stage room, and that's where he remained silently for the rest of the night. Time ticked on, and then you open the doors, when you realise you only have 17% left of power. Soon it was 6:00AM. Home Time. You left the building with a certain feeling of achievement. You survived the first night.
YOU ARE READING
Falling For Foxy
FanfictionYou are a new security guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. After a few days you become curious... What's in Pirate Cove? Why is the curtain always closed? What's been hidden in there? You yearn to find out, but when you find what's lurking in there...
