It felt weird for Mike to stand in the Pizzeria again, the real one and not the one they had rebuilt. His memories of this location gave mixed feelings, as while he did meet the four children there-when he was himself a child-and had fun with them, this location stayed the one where he almost died.
The same one he watched the four children that were coming family to him die. And later on, he had learned it had been by his best friendâs hands. So, truth to be told, Mike did prefer the location he had worked in. There, despite the danger of his first few nights, he had found the children again. He would say he ahd found Drew too, but considering how it wentâŠ
Maybe he should stop thinking of the past. And concentrate on the present. Everyone was happy now, if a bit⊠dead. Except him. He was only a living ghost.
I really need to focus on work.
Because, if Mike stood in the Pizzeria today, it was for the night shift. He did need money after all, and for once he loved the idea of not doing a random part time job. Being in an alternate world certainly helped his choice. And well, it was better than he took the night shift, even if he wasnât sure how he would feel if the animatronics were possessed like his own had been.
They wouldnât be his friendsâ ghosts, after all.
However, the manager had told him there would be a second night guard. Mike understood the logic, they would be safer if they were two to watch the animatronics. Be it from outside dangers or the bots themselves. Still⊠Mike wished that someone else didnât have to go though the night shift. He could only hope it wouldnât be a life threatening one, but it ended up dangerous, he would not allow his co-worker to get hurt.
Sky blue eyes drifted to his watch, noticing their shift would start in half an hour. The brunet had arrived a bit early, unwilling to not be the first one around. However, the same way, Mike didnât want his co-worker to wander the location alone, even if it would be before the animatronics were supposed to move.
In short? Mike leant against the wall beside the door of the Pizzeria, his usual white shirt visible under his open purple jacket. It was obvious he was the second night guard, and quite possibly, that he was waiting for his co-worker. He didnât look worried to be alone out there either, even seeming at peace in the middle of the night.
A blond approached, and Mike showed a faint smile. Deep down, past experiences made him wonder: would this young man be the alternate of someone he knew? Or was this location different enough?
âHello there.â Mike straightened as he greeted the other male. âI guess youâre the night guard thatâll work with me?â He doubted someone else had approached at random, but who knew. Heâd seen enough weird thing, after all.
June of 1987, an abnormally humid Monday evening.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jeremy had hoped that by focusing on the more insignificant details of the night ahead would somehow help to temper the burning anxiety that had started to build up inside of him a few hours prior. Unfortunately, he had once again grossly underestimated his own capacity for unbridled apprehension and was still fumbling around helplessly with his tie in the middle of his college dorm room an hour later than he had initially planned.Â
Tonight was his first night working the night shift at the newly reopened Freddy Fazbearâs Pizza. While it certainly hadnât been his first choice for a part-time job as a student, the advantages had been incredibly appealing at the time - the new location was close enough to campus that he could rely on his bike for transportation, working nights ensured that it wouldnât conflict with any of his classes, and, most of all, the environment was already familiar to him, despite the melancholy memories it brought with it. The need for a bit of extra income in mind, he had written down the number on the help wanted sign plastered in the front window without much further thought, making the call with the assumption that heâd be turned away on the spot only to be hired immediately over the phone and promptly told that he would begin first thing the following week.Â
And now here he was, one foot out the door, a black tie hanging haphazardly from his shirt collar and his sandy brown hair a complete mess at 11:15 PM.Â
Glancing at his watch, he groaned in exasperation, giving up on salvaging his appearance and closing the door behind him, turning the key in the lock before placing it back in his pants pocket. Another minute wasted groping around in the dark to unchain his bicycle, he was finally out of the campus proper and onto the side streets heading towards his new job.
It had been nearly five years since Jeremy had stepped foot inside of the family pizzeria. He had many fond memories of frequent visits to the old location when he was younger, carefree days spent with Vincent and the children, the closest thing he ever had to family. A peaceful time brought to an abrupt end by the tragic death of one of their own. Vincent had changed after the loss of his sister becoming distant and withdrawn until one day he had just... vanished. No matter how long he would wait on the street corner they had been meeting up at for years, he never saw Vincent or any of the other kids again, the pizzeria shutting its doors soon after.Â
He wondered if part of him was hoping that by returning to the last place heâd seen the man, location change aside, that he might have a chance to see Vincent once more, foolish as it was. Even as the years began to pass, a new life forced onto him in place of the one that had been torn away from him that day, he had continued to hold onto any fraction of hope he could manage. Heâd do anything to go back to those days, to be together with the person who had given him a reason to live in the first place again.Â
If only he knew how close he really was at that moment.Â
Clutching the brakes, he pulled up in front of the new location, much larger than the one he remembered, and unmounted his bike, propping it up against the side of the building where he would easily be able to find it in the morning once his shift had ended. Walking over towards the large double doors that served as the entrance, he paused. He looked down at his attire, giving himself a quick once over. He looked like he had just crawled out of bed - his tie was knotted awkwardly, the grey dress shirt that served as the uniform untucked on one side, and his unruly mop of hair sticking up in every direction imaginable. Quickly tucking his shirttail back into his trousers, he did his best to flatten his hair back down before walking the rest of the short distance, squinting into the darkness to try and get a better view.Â
His eyesight not what it used to be, it wasnât until he was almost right next to the door that he noticed the presence of someone else casually leaning against the hard surface. He had involuntarily jumped when the other figure began to move, startled by its appearance. He could have sworn heâd be the only one here tonight. A voice traveled through the crisp night air, directing a question at him that he had to take a moment completely process.
Sighing with relief once he had hopefully made sense of the situation, he chuckled nervously. Theyâd hired two night guards? Although strange, the mere fact that he wouldnât be alone in an empty restaurant for six hours was enough to release some of the tension in his shoulders. He brought one arm up to hold the other in place against his torso, suddenly extremely self-conscious of his haggard appearance.
âUm, I-I suppose I am. Iâm J-Jeremy Fitzgerald.â His response sounded quiet and uneasy even to his own ears. â T-Tonightâs my f-first night here.â
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