[Mike's POV]
Static. Sheer unintelligible static. That was all that fifth recording from Phone Man had for me, if it even was from Phone Man. The noises on there sounded barely human. Then again, they quite resembled the kind of weird sounds you hear when you rewind a tape or something. Maybe if I could find a way to reverse it? Maybe it's Phone Man after all. Maybe he's on vacation in Miami or something and not... well...
Dead in an animatronic suit...
The mere thought of it sent bile up my throat. Shoving a person in a suit filled with all those spring locks couldn't possibly be a painless process... or a clean one...
No! Refocus. This is your last night. You can't risk messing up tonight.
I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. My shift would start in a couple of minutes. I fixated my gaze on the clock.
The ticking of the clock seemed to slow down as nervous energy sent heat rising up to my face. I removed my mask and waited.
It felt like I was waiting for a massacre to happen. Like waiting for a really bad test result. Or, waiting in line for my turn on the Guillotine.
Keep your wits and stay alive. Stay calm.
11:59 pm. Just one minute left.
That's fine. That's perfectly fine. You've done this before, you can do it again. You--
The automated bells started ringing, and the kids from all those years ago began to shriek.
And with that, something inside me snapped.
I can't do it I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't...!
But it was too late. Bonnie and Chica were already gone from their stage. Already running loose around the pizzeria. I couldn't leave anymore. Not that I ever could anyway; the exits being locked and all.
I was trapped. Trapped in this nightmare and I couldn't get out.
You've been through way worse before. You'll be fine--
No no no I'm gonna die I'm gonna die!
I chose to listen to the motivational side of me; the one that wasn't reminding me of my impending doom. I was used to ignoring rising panic. This wasn't the first time I was doing something like this. And I doubted it'd be the last.
Besides, I'm not lucky enough to die.
I flicked through the cameras and caught Freddy mid-hallway-strut. Show-Time for Foxy was at 1:00 am. That was an entire hour away.
Good. I can do this. You got this.
NO YOU DON'T GOT THIS YOU ANYTHING BUT GOT THIS!
I sipped a bit of soda, and instantly choked. I spat the soda out, coughing violently, making my throat hurt awfully.
Even your good luck charm's failing you now! You're dead meat tonight you're flipping dead!
It was a stupid ritual anyway. You don't need it. You're good. You're golden--
IT'S ME
"No... not again..."
This time, I locked eyes with the yellow animatronic bear in my office, slumped over on one side, immobile, though its very presence blurred my vision completely, the constant chanting of "it's me" making my ears ring.
"Who are you?" I yelled over the noise, trying my best to tolerate my growing headache. No change.
"What do you want from me?"
YOU ARE READING
Another Five Nights
FanfictionFollows Michael Afton as he tries to survive a work week's time with killer animatronics that haunted his childhood. Or is that all there is to his blasted afterlife? Please note: This is an AU of the Five Nights at Freddy's lore made by Scott Cawth...
