A Guard's life

Problems always stack

A/N: And this one gets written on the 20th! Hmmm... you guys must hate me at this point! Don't worry, I hate myself more.

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When Mike woke up in the morning, the sun wasn't even on the horizon yet. Through the window he could see that sky was getting slightly lighter at one end, but... it would take a while for the sun to rise.
He was still resting next to Simon, a decision he did indeed regretted already.
Just... the amount of warmth was scary. Being close to someone was scary.
With a deep sigh he carefully slipped out of the sheets into the cold, making a small hissing noise as the cold air hit his skin. Thankfully he was already used to that sensation and most certainly used to leave the bed anyway. Lying around always ended up in him getting angry and making him think of all his past mistakes.
Simon was still sleeping, thank fuck for that.
Without any real motivation he began walking around the small place, searching for anything interesting.
Before he never had the patience to do so, but now he actually acknowledged how barren and simple the place was. Definitely not made for having people over, but... it was surprisingly... roomy. Even if most rooms were nothing more than dusty places with covered furniture.
It felt more like a haunted house in those early hours of the morning and you would expect the sheets suddenly raising up and... who fucking knows, silverware to attack. Mike would have to ask why the fuck Simon was living in this place.
The only place remotely appearing used was the kitchen and it was... also pretty sterile. A used pan was all sitting on the stove, but there was nothing else.
For some reason, this unsettled the Guard. What did Simon make that seemingly either required nothing but a pan or somehow convinced the man to clean up everything else EXCEPT the pan. It didn't make sense! If you were already cleaning your fucking dishes, why leave the fucking PAN sitting there, dirty? Did he planned on making something else with it and forgot?
Wait, why did he give a shit?
Why was it irritating him so much?
Because it didn't make any sense!
BUT IT DIDN'T FUCKING MATTER!
BUT IT WAS REALLY WEIRD!
FOR FUCK'S SAKE!
HOW ABOUT YOU DO SOMETHING FUCKING USEFUL AND COOK EGGS?!
THEY ALWAYS START BURNING!
THEN FUCKING CONCENTRATE!
I THINK THERE'S MORE TO COOKING EGG THAN CONCENTRATING!
HOW WOULD YOU FUCKING KNOW, YOU NEVER FUCKING TRIED ANYTHING IN YOUR LIFE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!
I CAN AND WILL FIGHT YOU!
NO YOU FUCKING CAN'T YOU IMBICILE!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
With that he pulled out a few eggs and tried to remember how to make proper scrambled eggs, a feat surprisingly even possible for a numbnut like him!
It took him until he finished making it that he asked himself why the fuck he did this. He wasn't even hungry.
Maybe he should wake up Simon and ask him if he wanted it...
OH GEE, WHAT THE FUCK ELSE WOULD YOU DO, LET IT STAND THERE AND GET COLD!?
YEAH, MAYBE I WILL, FUCK YOU!
BUT WHY WOULD YOU, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT, IT WOULD MAKE NO SENSE!
WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING KILL YOURSELF!?
DOESN'T WORKING AT FREDDY'S COUNT AS THAT!?
Growling to himself he located the knives and forks and brought the stuff to Simon's bedside, the guy could probably use something to eat when he woke up.
So... should he... wake him up...?
A sudden noise caught his attention. It was a weird mechanical clicking.
Curious he followed the noise out of the room... it came from one of the windows.
Or... not?
Huh.
There was something moving out there.
The sounds were subtle, yet very distinct against the distant chirping of the birds and the sound of wind in the branches.
Morning time was always filled with an incredible tension for Mike. The whole world felt as if it was getting ready for the daily routine, the first cars began driving, the first bits of sunlight hit the earth, heating up the cold ground, the first people entered the street to get the things they needed.
It was also the time when dreams turned into nightmares and if you were lucky enough to wake up before hell breaks loose, you wipe the cold sweat from your forehead and ask yourself why you can't escape those fears.
Funnily enough the clicking reminded him about something he would hear in his nightmares.
But in which one of them?
He had so many...
Shaking off his weird trance-like state, he opened the window and let the cold morning air in, to lean outside and look around.
Nothing.
It was silent.
Wait- what happened to the birds?
Shivering for no good reason, he closed the window again, uncertain if he still wanted to know what that clicking had been-
BANG BANG BANG!
Somebody-
Something
- was knocking on the front door with an incredible strength.
Grabbing his flashlight-bat, the man slowly crept up to the entrance, ready to attack whatever was behind there and kill it in the most effective way he knew how to- by bashing whatever was operating it into mush. In most cases that was the brain.
OH, shut the fuck up, you haven't ever killed a man.
Well, TECHNICALLY-
Technically, yeah. But neither Vincent, nor Orange counted as human.
Fair enough.
Can we get back to whatever demon stands outside there now?
Yes, right.
Very slowly he bridged the rest of the distance and peeked through the peephole of the door, being greeted with...
Nothing.
Rubbing his face, he began asking himself if he was hallucinating. Would be pretty harmless, honestly.
At least there were no corpses this time.
Suddenly, a hand touched his back and made him freeze up.
This wasn't real.
This wasn't real.
This wasn't real-
"M-Mike? Are you okay?"
Turning around, he suddenly felt retarded, it was only Simon, giving him a worried look. "Yeah... just tripping. The usual."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to... interrupt you?"
"HMMM, YEAH, FUCK YOU, I LOVE MY TRIPS! HALLUCINATIONS ARE MY FAVORITE! I AM SOOOO DISAPPOINTED!"
"A-ah, please calm down! I'm sorry!"
"You better fucking be..." Mike rubbed his face, scanning Simon, trying to figure out if the man felt alright again. "You're up early."
There was no expression. "Mike, for heck's sake, usually I'm up WAY earlier. Usually I only get to put a cable into the back of my head to get energized... also, I got breakfast!"
"... Was it good?"
"I never knew a human being was CAPABLE to fail at making scrambled eggs. This was an eye-opening experience and I'm really thankful I got that. Could you make some more?"
"If you explain to me why the fuck the pan was the only used thing in your kitchen, maybe."
Confused Simon tilted his head. "What...?"
"Alright, different question, I thought you barely have any money, how the fuck do you live in a real house?"
"Easy, I- uh..." The guy frowned. "It's from the company. From all I could gather it was pretty cheap anyway, because it's haunted or something... all those people who built on it died, all the previous owners died and it's surrounded by a giant scary forest. Needless to say that it isn't really... high in demand. Maybe the company just really wants to get rid of me, but I can honestly not care... for all the time living here, I had no problem for all the time I've been here. Admittedly I don't really spend a lot of time in here, but..."
"How many places can be fucking haunted in this world?! HOW MANY SOULS CAN BE STUCK TO THIS SHITSTAIN OF A REALITY?!"
"Again, I'm pretty sure this place actually ISN'T haunted. I know a haunted place when I see one and this place is just depressing. There are quite a few animals in the area on the other hand... sometimes they try to get in I think."
"And you're just... okay with it?"
"It isn't much different from a usual workday."
Fair enough. "So... that knocking was real?"
"Uh... I'm not sure, I haven't heard anything to be perfectly honest... but I was somewhat distracted by your masterpiece of a dish that almost costed my life."
"Screw you! Fucking say it was bad and get over it!"
"I wouldn't call it bad, it brought me to another plane of existence-"
"SHUT UP!" It didn't really bother him that his food was called bad, after all he never fucking cooked, but that his friend was constantly mentioning it was driving him up the walls. "We have a bit more important things to do than keep talking about the same shit! What about work?"
"It's amazing how enthusiastic you become about work, once you dislike a certain topic."
"It's amazing how fucking sarcastic you've become, once you stopped giving a shit."
"Yeah, about right." The Phone Guy yawned. "I'm going to take a shower, please don't break anything."
The man turned away and left, before Mike even got the chance to ask him how the fuck that man managed to shower with that head. Too bad. Anyway, not breaking anything for ten minutes or something. No problem.
Only a small problem.
Restless he wandered around, before finally sitting down on the sofa in front of a rather small TV. They watched documentaries all day yesterday, the most retarded thing he's ever done. Why would he care about the wander-routes that wolfs take?!
He didn't, but seemingly Simon. Or at least he argued that it managed to relax him.
And no, Mike didn't tried to argue with him he wasn't that much of a fucking cunt. Though at the point that they came to the documentary about why the fuck colors existed, he almost dozed off, so... there was some truth in it apparently.
Fucking hell, the only thing remotely interesting were those about ancient predators, because fucking hell was it BRUTAL!
NOTHING WAS AS GREAT AS SEEING GIANT LIZARDS TEAR EACH OTHER APART! BAM, GIANT LIZARD GETS EATEN BY OTHER GIANT LIZARD, BUT THEN ANOTHER GIANT LIZARD COMES OUT OF THE WATER AND-
Again, frantic knocking.
Groaning Mike stood up. Either he checked on his hallucination to make it hopefully fuck off or he would hear that knocking for the rest of his day.
To his surprise there was ACTUALLY someone there, namely Orange, having an alarmed expression. Since he wouldn't stop knocking, Mike finally gave in and opened the door. "What the fuck do you want-!"
"HAVEYOUSEENALICE?!" The man jumped right at him.
"Fuck no! Why would I know where that fucking cancer is?! Probably at the restaurant, trying to kill Jerry like the fucking monster she is?"
"Ooooooh... right... that could be!" Completely relaxed again, Old Sport jumped back and cheerful looked around. "What a neat place? Where's the Phoney?"
"Showering...?"
"Owww, wild night?"
"Do you consider documentaries as wild?" Mike didn't even give a shit at this point, not willing to let him irritate him.
"Fuck, he got the DOCUMENTARIES out? Spicy, I never expected you two to be THAT filthy! Remind me to never touch any of you two ever again."
"Yes, PLEASE. Could you now leave?"
"Nah." Completely ignorant of Mike's annoyance the man entered and looked around. "Really, I'd live here!"
"But you DON'T so FUCK OFF! What do you even WANT?!"
"Welp, you're gonna come to work, right? We could walk together~!"
"Just spill it. What the fuck is your problem? Did you have a fight with Dave or what?"
"No...?" His voice sounded incredible innocent.
"If you're planning anything stupid, I swear to god-"
"Okay, okay, I'm curious! How's Phoney doing now that his head got opened? Is he... is he okay?"
"Don't tell me you're fucking worried, I'd be more than disgusted with such a blatant lie."
"Worried is a broad word..." Old Sport tried to weasel around it, feeling called out. "I AM actually a bit worried about him! Mostly curious though. I... there was only once I met a Phone Guy that almost remembered what he had been before, but..."
"But?"
"We all got off track..."
"We all?"
"Mike, for fuck's sake, leave me alone!" Apparently that he was sensitive to that topic, making this situation even more suspicious.
"Feel free to leave at any fucking time!"
Their senseless bickering was finally interrupted by Simon, who now fully ready joined them at the door. "Employees? What is going on?"
"Old Sport came up to fuck around." Mike sounded only annoyed.
"I didn't!" Insulted the man crossed his arms. "I only wanted to check on you... and since you're back up, we could walk together!"
Phone Guy stared a while before nodding. "Sounds reasonable. Are you ready to get going, Mike?"
Baffled his friend glanced at him, but some sort of nervous energy pushed his need to argue aside. It was highly unlikely that Old Sport actually planned something bad, it... he hadn't before.
Also, he needed to get back to the establishment.
Check on it.
"I'll be ready in a minute." Quickly he ran off to put on his shoes and join them outside.
For another moment the headless and the soulless stared at each other.
"Stop making Mike so uncomfortable."
Instantly Orange Guy took note of the slightly colder undertones in his voice. "It's not like I'm doing it on purpose... he needs a thicker skin. Hey, so... how are you feeling?"
"What do you expect? I was Springlocked, I lost- I lost a LOT and just yesterday I was ALLOWED to realize it."
Sympathetic Old Sport smiled. "It will get better. Eventually."
"Is that all what you wanted? I don't need sympathy from a psychopath."
"Ah, Phoney! You're now one of us, I'd be careful what I say!"
Quick, loud steps announced Mike return and the Orange Guy decided that it was the PERFECT moment to change topic to something more cheerful!
"Did you see yesterday's camera feed?! There were again THE BEST expressions, once you come to the part where Freddy-"
They started walking and Mike looked up at the clear sky, wondering how Jerry did. It's kind of screwed if he thought about it. In his job, it would be totally normal to simply say goodbye to a co-worker at evening and never see him again, because he got torn apart by a group of killer robots.
Somehow, he suddenly felt a sting of sympathy for Simon and all the other Phone Guys that were working in such a position. No wonder they had such a hard time to treat his employees as people and not as disposable objects.
Maybe he wouldn't care about people either when they would disappear on him on a regular basis.
For a while he spaced out.
God, he hoped the boy wasn't dead or traumatized.
The kid didn't deserve that.