Five Nights At Freddy's

Chapter Seven: Keep Your Enemies Closer

  A rundown motel in the middle of nowhere had never looked as good as it did to anyone except Mike Schmidt as he pulled into the parking lot, the need for sleep aching in his bones. He stumbled out of his car, tripping up the cement steps and staggering into the main lobby.  The man at the front desk didn't look up from his newspaper as Mike clumsily made his way down the hall.  He busted the door open, locking it behind him.  He nearly missed his unkempt bed as he collapsed, falling immediately into a deep sleep, blissfully ignorant for just a few unconscious hours of what dangers lie ahead of him in the coming night.

  He awoke with a start to the sound of his alarm. It was nearly six p.m. and he hadn't eaten since breakfast with Jeremy. His coffee had all but left his system, leaving a gaping, dehydrated void in its wake.  He grumbled loudly, trudging out of bed and into the bathroom.  His clammy hands felt the frigid metal sink sloppily; between his slaps he was able to locate the grimy faucet and knobs.  Ice cold water gushed into the basin, spraying his shirt and dampening his face.  Mike resisted the urge to screech, his fury igniting instead into self sabotage.  He plummeted his hands into the sink, his skin screaming with resistance, and cupped some of the freezing water.  With one swift movement, he splashed his face, the chill liquid numbing his hands and cheeks.  He froze, shivering, his hands clasped to the sides of the sink.  He recaptured his breath, gazing into the mirror before him.  He felt himself awaken, adrenaline pumping into his system and his face suddenly flushing with life.  He shook his head.
  "Great," he muttered, "I'm going insane." Suddenly, the phone in the next room buzzed.  He reached for a nearby paper towel and dabbed at his neck and forehead, making his way into the room gingerly.  He clutched the phone, a yawn escaping as his greeting. 
  "Hiya, Mike Schmidt?" Mike furrowed his brow. 
  "Yes, who's this?"
  "This is Charlie from Freddy's," Charlie greeted, "Mr. Iris is busy right now but he asked me to call to make sure you were still coming in tonight... he was worried you were a little uh... distraught this morning."
  "Oh yeah, I'm coming in," Mike agreed, a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought. 
  "Oh!" Charlie clambered, "good!  Uh... good, he wanted to me to remind you about your contract.  There's a fee if you don't show up and... and he wanted to remind you about the defamation of character clause which pretty much means you just can't talk bad about the brand or... or spread rumors or anything."  Mike blinked. 
  "Right.  Is there an issue?"
  "No!" Charlie cried, "no, he just wanted to remind you.  We've had a small number of night guards before you and none of them stuck around very long... but they broke the rules quite frequently.  You know, not showing up to work, talking bad about the company... just be sure you... you know..." Charlie paused, "it's not that we think you're trouble, Mr. Schmidt, we're just covering our bases."
  "Don't worry about it, Charlie," Mike muttered, his face flushing, "tell Mr. Iris that if he has any other concerns to come to me directly."
  "Yes sir," Charlie agreed bashfully, sighing in relief, "good luck tonight."  With that, he ended the phone call.  Mike furrowed his brow.  What kind of leader sends a kid to do his threatening? He wondered, shaking his head in bewilderment. Iris doesn't even need to worry.  The things I saw last night were crazy... I'm even starting to doubt myself.  I was exhausted, after all... besides, it's not like I have proof.  Mike froze.  Wait a second, I'm the security guard, I have footage.  With that, he made a mad dash for his keys, threw himself out the door, and made a beeline for his car.  He needed to see that footage.  He needed it now. 

  The parking lot was mostly empty, except for a few patron's cars off toward the left.  It was the first time Mike had seen any cars in the parking lot outside of those belonging to the employees.  A sinking feeling set over him as he imagined those hulking animatronics and the small, fragile children surrounding them, their gnashing teeth as they sang.  He shuddered, opening the front doors with a sudden burst of vigilance. 

  The door collided with the back wall with the force of a freight train.  Charlie jumped, dropping the broom in his hands.  The two families dining turned their heads curiously.  Mike blushed as Charlie scrambled for the broom. 
  "Mr. Schmidt!" Charlie cried, "we... we weren't expecting you until later!"
  "I know," Mike agreed, "I'm sorry, I was just hoping I could get into the office?  I think I left my wallet." 
  "Oh," Charlie relaxed, "sure, of course.  Violet's in there now."  Mike's heart sank. 
  "Right... of... of course she is..."

  The hallway was darkened to where Mike could only see his black shoes if they hovered above the white tiles which patterned the floor.  It was warm in the hall again, he could hear the A/C wheezing above him but couldn't feel the cool air at all.  As he neared, he could smell the scent of cigarette smoke getting stronger and stronger.  When he approached the side door of the office, he could make out faint, gentle sounds coming from inside.  He paused.  Was... was she crying?  Mike knocked gently on the glass window which caused Violet to jump and check the camera.  She wiped her face as he entered. 
  "Are you okay?" Mike greeted.  She cleared her throat,. 
  "I'm fine," she snapped, taking a draw on her cigarette, "p...paper cut." 
  "Ah," Mike humored, nodding.  He took a few tentative steps inside, glancing around the office.
  "Did you need something?  Your shift doesn't start for another five hours." 
  "I thought I left my wallet," Mike lied, getting on his hands and knees to look under the desk for the full effect.  Violet raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. 
  "If that bulge in your pants isn't your wallet, I'm going to throw you out."  Mike froze, feeling his pocket. 
  "Would you look at that," he muttered, flushing.  As he stood, he smashed his head into the bottom of the desk.  Violet jumped, placing a hand on his shoulder as he came up, rubbing his scalp. 
  "Are you okay?" She managed, shock lining her face.  Mike winced, whistling. 
  "Yup, yup, I'm okay..." He blinked, his eyes focusing on Violet who was inches away.  He could see the tear tracks on her skin and small drops of water still fresh on her eyelashes.  Her stunned face started to twitch into an odd grin before she broke, a giggle breaking its way into the silence of the room.  Mike grinned too, chuckling as Violet covered her mouth. 
  "I'm sorry- it's not funny," she managed between gasps, putting her cigarette down on a tray by the computer. 
  "You can laugh, it's fine," Mike insisted, the pain in his head dissipating.  He realized it was the first time he'd seen Violet do anything other than scowl and smirk.  She calmed after a minute, exhaling sharply to catch her breath.  Mike stayed on the ground, balancing on his knees.  "Hey, um... this is a long shot I know... but is it okay with you if I check the footage from last night?" 
  "I figured you'd want to," Violet agreed with a shrug, turning to her monitor, "you're not the first night guard that's asked..."  Mike stood, stunned.  She opened a new tab, withdrawing the files from the night before.  As they played, Mike felt his heart sink into his stomach.  The rabbit left the stage, wandered around the dining room and rejoined the others, followed by the chicken and the bear who did the same, nonsensical, and nonthreatening track around the tables.  Mike swallowed, lowering his head.  Violet watched him as he took a seat on the couch.  "You okay?"
  "That's... not what happened..." Mike insisted, clasping his head in his hands.  Violet frowned, turning back to the monitor.  She took her cigarette in her fingers gently, placing it back in her mouth.  A puff of smoke marked her breath in the air.
  "We believe you, you know," Violet muttered.  Mike lifted his head.  She grimaced, as though being kind were painful.  "The last night guards... they all said the same thing.  The animatronics would try to get into their office." 
  "And... the... getting stuffed into a suit bit?"  Violet's mouth thinned. 
  "I am legally not allowed to say," she recited, "it's in my contract.  Ask me in a week."  Mike sighed, turning away.  She extinguished her cigarette.  "I will say this, Mr. Schmidt," she continued, "there's a damn good reason I showed up drunk to work today.  I didn't expect to find you in the condition you were in."  Mike turned back to her slowly, the weight of her words settling on him.  She broke his eye contact, turning back to her monitor and closing the footage from the night before to view the live feed of the three animatronics on stage.  Mike stood, a sudden chill falling over him in the hot room as he took his leave.