Survive the Night. A FNAF 1 fanfiction. Book 1

CHAPTER 2: Night Terrors

Michael arrived back at the pizzeria just before midnight. The place was deserted, the silence broken only by the hum of the fluorescent lights. He settled into the security office; it was small and cluttered, with old surveillance monitors lining one wall, showing different areas of the pizzeria. A single fan buzzed noisily on the desk, providing little relief from the oppressive heat. Posters and children's drawings decorated the wall. He leaned back in the chair, trying to shake off the unease he felt. Suddenly, the phone rang, startling him. He picked it up cautiously. "Hello? Hello?" "Uh, hey there, Mike," an oddly familiar but slightly off voice greeted him. It was Dave Miller, the former security guard he had been told about, though his voice seemed different and more sinister than he had expected. "Just calling to check in on your first night. See how you're settling in."

"Uh, yeah, it's... it's fine," Michael replied, glancing nervously at the monitors. "Just a bit... creepy, you know?"

"That's to be expected," the voice chuckled. "You'll get used to it. So, how's the old pizzeria treating you? Seen anything... unusual yet?" Michael scanned the screens, seeing nothing out of the ordinary for now. "No, not really. Just getting started."

"Well, you know, these old places have a way of... coming alive at night," the voice continued, almost too cheerfully. "Those animatronics can be quite the handful."

Michael's eyes darted to the screen showing the stage. The animatronics were still in place, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. "Yeah, I've heard the stories. Trying not to think too much about it." The voice on the other end seemed to grow more insistent. "Oh, you should definitely think about it, Mike. Keeps you on your toes. Those animatronics have a habit of... wandering. But you've got those cameras, right? Just keep an eye on them."

"Yeah, I'm watching," Michael said, feeling a chill. The office was cold, and the dim light from the monitors cast eerie shadows. "But you know, sometimes the cameras... they don't catch everything," the voice suggested. "You might need to get up and check things out yourself." Michael felt a pang of anxiety. "Uh, I don't think that's a good idea." The voice laughed softly. "Oh, come on, Mike. Where's your sense of adventure? Just think of it as a little... midnight stroll. Keeps you awake." As the call continued, Michael's attention wavered. He caught movement on one of the screens. Bonnie was missing. His heart skipped a beat. "Uh, I need to go. Something's... something's wrong."

"Oh, don't worry about that. It's probably nothing," the voice said smoothly. "Just a glitch. Stay on the line; let's chat a bit longer." But Michael's instincts told him otherwise. He had to check. "Sorry, I have to go," he said, hanging up abruptly. He grabbed his flashlight and stepped out of the office, his footsteps echoing in the deserted halls. "Hello?" he called out, his voice trembling. There was no answer, only the soft whirring of machinery. He moved cautiously, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the darkness. As he approached the main stage, he realized Bonnie was nowhere to be seen. His pulse quickened. "Bonnie?" he whispered, feeling foolish but desperate. Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him. Spinning around, he saw nothing but shadows. He backed away slowly, the flashlight shaking in his hand. He needed to get back to the office. Returning to the security room, he locked the door behind him, breathing heavily. He checked the monitors again, but Bonnie was still missing. The phone rang once more, but Michael ignored it. He couldn't afford any distractions now. He settled back into his chair, eyes glued to the screens, trying to keep track of every animatronic movement. His eyes were darting between the monitors. Each screen displayed a different section of the pizzeria, but his focus was drawn to the empty spot on the stage where Bonnie should have been. The clock read 2:30 AM, and the pizzeria felt colder and more sinister with each passing minute.

After waiting a couple of hours and not being able to find Bonnie, he decided to get up and look for him. The narrow beam of his flashlight barely cut through the oppressive darkness as he stepped into the hallway. The air was thick with the faint smell of old pizza crust and dough, and the silence was deafening. "Bonnie?" he called out, his voice echoing eerily. No response. He moved cautiously, passing by the dining area, the tables and chairs casting long, twisted shadows. He checked Pirate Cove, but Foxy was still behind the curtains. Chica and Freddy were also on stage, their blank eyes staring into the void. As he made his way toward the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of his eye. He turned quickly, his flashlight swinging wildly, but saw nothing. His heart pounded in his chest. He shook his head, trying to convince himself that it was just his imagination. But then he saw something—flickering apparitions of children, their faces pale and their eyes hollow, appearing and disappearing like a bad signal. Michael blinked hard, shaking his head again. "I'm just seeing things," he muttered, pressing forward. The images faded, leaving him unnerved. He checked the cameras again, using his portable monitor. Bonnie was still nowhere to be seen. Then he heard it—a low, swirling noise, like metal grinding against metal. His stomach dropped. The sound was getting closer.

He rushed towards the bathrooms, the source of the noise. As he pushed open the door, his flashlight caught Bonnie's menacing figure standing in the middle of the room, eyes glowing in the darkness. The animatronics' head slowly turned toward him, emitting that horrifying swirling noise. "Crap," Michael whispered, backing away. Suddenly, Bonnie lunged forward, the mechanical whirring growing louder. Michael spun on his heel and sprinted back down the hallway, Bonnie crashing through the corridor behind him. His breath came in ragged gasps as he reached the security office, slamming the door shut just in time. Bonnie pounded against the door, each impact sending a shiver down Michael's spine. He checked the clock: 4:55 a.m. One more hour. He just had to survive one more hour. The attacks on the door continued, but as the clock struck 5:00 AM, they abruptly stopped. Michael peeked at the monitor; Bonnie had returned to the stage, performing as if nothing had happened. Relieved, Michael sank into his chair, but his respite was short-lived. Around 40 minutes later, the monitors went dark and the doors sprang open, then the lights in the pizzeria flickered out. "The generator," Michael realized, dread filling him. He had to get to the basement to reset it. Grabbing his flashlight, he left the office again, nerves on edge. He made his way to the basement door, each step echoing in the empty halls and rooms. As he descended into the basement, he could hear Bonnie's mechanical whirring nearby. He fumbled with the generator, trying to restart it. Just as Bonnie's towering figure loomed at the top of the stairs, the clock struck 6:00 AM.

Bonnie's eyes dimmed, and the animatronic turned and walked back to the stage. Michael let out a shaky breath and hurried to the exit, stumbling out into the dawn light. William Afton was waiting for him. "How was your first night?" William asked his tone almost mocking. Michael opened his mouth to respond, but William cut him off. "Go home and get some rest." Michael nodded numbly, too exhausted and confused to argue. Maybe it had all been a bad dream. He drove home, his mind racing. His siblings, Evan and Elizabeth, greeted him cheerfully. "Congratulations on your first night!" Evan and Elizabeth said in unison, but Michael could only manage a tired smile. He grabbed a quick bite to eat and went straight to bed, too drained to explain what had happened. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't shake the feeling that the night's events were far from over.