Five Nights At Freddy's: The Hidden Souls

The Compromise

March 5, 1976 - 9:00 A.M. - William's Apartment (Present Time)

Ah, finally, a relaxing cup of coffee to help calm my mind from everything that's been going on. He wasn't able to get too much sleep last night, mainly because he was still terrified of his experiences with Funtime Freddy and Ballora. If this is the kind of shit I'm being forced to put up with, then I'm not taking it. I need to have a nice little chat with Mr. Cunningham about all of this. He was still very pissed off, and spent the entire morning trying to figure out what to say to his boss about his "work conditions".

William's apartment wasn't too small, but it provided enough room for him to feel at home. The walls were painted light green, the carpet was beige, and the door was dark brown, with a shiny doorknob. Inside his apartment were two small tables, one where he put his small TV and the other where he put his lamp at, a cushion chair, and a medium-sized bed. Although it tended to get a little cramped, he was just fine with living here.

Alright, got my work outfit on, I ate some breakfast, and I should be good to go. His outfit was a button-downed teal blue shirt, along with a dark grey tie and a little silver badge near his chest that read out, "William Afton - Technician". Looks good, better get going. He got the keys to his apartment and left, walking out of the building to get to the parking lot, where he kept his purple Ford F250. Ok, just need to explain to Mr. Cunningham what's wrong carefully, and hopefully, I can finally get some answers to my questions. He opened the car door and turned on the engine, and began driving his way to work.

Alright, what exactly do I tell him first? Maybe about why the robots are trying to kill me? Wait, I haven't thought about that at all. Why am I just realizing this? Ok, just make sure to tell him everything, and see what he can do. Or maybe I should just quit and look for work elsewhere. No, maybe not, there aren't too many well-paying jobs available around here, anyway. But I better be getting a raise if I have to keep putting up with this shit. William's past week so far has been nothing short of a train wreck - moving into a new apartment, getting a new job, nearly and nearly dying on the second night of the job. Coming back to a job where the robots you are trying to repair are secretly trying to murder you takes a lot of nerve. Oh well, at least I'm still getting decent payment for this job. I might as well see if there's anything Mr. Cunningham can do about it.

Around thirty minutes of driving later, William arrived at the parking lot of Circus Baby World. Luckily, it wasn't too crowded, as William's boss mentioned to him last week that not many customers come in on Wednesdays. How convenient, he thought. He got out of his car and went through the entrance to the above-ground level of Circus Baby World. Apparently, most of the customers take an elevator inside of the first level of the building to go to the galleries that the animatronics would be performing for them at, while the rest of the first level was where all of the administrators and employee rooms were located. William knew the place well, he remembered the little tour he was given last week before taking his position as a technician here, so he knew where his employer's room was located. As William was walking towards Mr. Cunningham's room, he bumped into another employee.

"Hey, look where you're walking."

William didn't recognize this employee. He had dark brown hair, probably in his later thirties, and was wearing a purple jacket, with a little gold name tag that had the following words on it: Dave Miller, Head Technician. He must work on the animatronics, too. Maybe I don't even need to go to Mr. Cunningham to get some answers. This guy could probably explain it to me. After realizing he just bumped into the man, he apologized.

"I'm sorry, uh, Mr. Miller, I didn't see you there. Say, you're the head technician, right?"

"If you can read what my name tag says, you wouldn't have to ask. I am."