i did not sleep last night. blasts you with this
a/n: okay so i'm not strictly adhering to lore here. call it an au if you want, i'm taking some bits and leaving some bits. this is an extremely self indulgent fic, i fucking love security breach and i miss fics like these </3 so enjoyyy
wc: 1.7k
sleepless nights and... animatronics, apparently
part one!
Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex. An over-branded mouthful, honestly. You’d never heard of the place, but when you mentioned it in front of your older relatives, they seemed to recognize the franchise. Or some older version of it. You didn’t read too much into it.
All that you knew (and cared about) was that you’d finally landed a job in this atrocious job market, and that it paid well.
And now, for the second time (the first being your interview), you were faced with the ridiculously large complex with the neon sign that was bigger than your house.
It was surprisingly busy for a weekday, but most schools should’ve been out at the grand hour of five PM, so maybe it wasn’t surprising.
The place was absolutely swarming. Kids skipping to the entrance with huge grins, shouting for their parents to walk faster. Long lines at the gates, tired employees working as fast as they could to strap wristbands on tiny arms and hand out one of a dozen different passes to each kid.
The air was thick. Warm on your skin—not exactly a comfort in summer—sharp and musty in your nose, booming in your ears… the place was the definition of buzzing. But maybe not entirely awful; one of the many smells drifting around was food. What kind, you weren’t sure. But it didn’t smell bad. And half of the noise was kids’ laughter and excited shouts. Watching those smiles, you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of your own mouth.
You managed to navigate to the offices; the one spot in this massive structure that you’d seen so far. Past an inconspicuous door that said EMPLOYEES ONLY.
You were an employee now, right? It still felt kind of weird pushing through that door and just… wandering down that little hallway.
Pausing outside the door you’d interviewed in—the one that had a little gold plate that said Management—you raised your hand to knock… and hesitated.
You could hear voices inside. As much as you tried not to eavesdrop, it was kind of difficult with how clear you could hear the conversation.
A more masculine voice. Your interviewer, you vaguely recognized.
“I don’t care that you prefer to work nights alone. With everything that’s been happening, we need more night staff.”
In reply, a more feminine voice. Younger. Sharper.
“To do what? The night shift workload is completely manageable with one person. We have security bots that do half the work already!”
Your fist hovered over the door. Damn your own curiosity.
“Vanessa, we can’t afford to have any more incidents. It’s just a preventative measure.”
There was a pause. When the woman spoke again, her voice was low. Almost a whisper.
“Sir, I have been personally investigating those disappearances. And I’ve been implementing my own measures to prevent any more from happening.”
Did you… hear that right? Suddenly this didn’t feel like a conversation you should be listening to. The man was mid-reply when you knocked at last, three sharp raps that cut him off. He beckoned for you to come in.
When you pushed that door open, smile plastered on your face, you’d never guess that they’d just been having a seemingly dark conversation. There was the man who interviewed you—some middle-aged white guy with a very forgettable face (no offense to him)—and a girl, blonde, probably not much older than you, but with bags under her eyes more characteristic of someone twice her age.
She smiled thinly, rising to extend a hand to you as the manager spoke.
“Y/n, this is Vanessa. She’s our night guard; you’ll be working together directly.”
“Partially,” Vanessa corrected, giving your hand a firm shake. “I do security. You’ll be doing…”
She looked at the manager. He perked up, floundering for a moment. “Well, I’ve created an itinerary… just little tasks I’ve stolen from the closers. It’ll keep you plenty busy for the night. But you will be checking in with each other frequently,” he added, almost like a reprimand, with a not-so-subtle look at Vanessa. “Safety reasons.”
“Of course,” you agreed, nodding at both of them.
Vanessa’s lip twitched. “Yeah.”
The manager cleared his throat, shuffling papers around his desk. “Uh, since you won’t really be doing security, you won’t be training with Vanessa.”
“Makes sense,” you muttered.
“Vanessa, if you could just get Y/n situated with a uniform, I’ll have Payton come fetch them from the employee locker room,” the manager prattled, already reaching for his phone.
Vanessa nodded stiffly, making for the door. You took the hint to follow.
“Uniform’s simple,” Vanessa explained, tilting her head at you as you walked. “Just the polo; you can wear whatever you want below that. Some kids around here wear skirts. Most wear jeans or something. You can wear a jacket, but it has to be our brand.”
You raised an eyebrow. Vanessa snorted. “Stupid, I know. At least it’s free.”
She turned abruptly into a little closet, stooping to fish a shirt from a box. She extended it to you lazily, nodding to the end of the hall. “Locker rooms are just that door at the very end. I’ll meet you by the entrance at close.”
She gave a halfhearted wave, already heading in the opposite direction.
“See you then,” you muttered, though you doubted she heard.
The locker room was quiet while you changed in the single bathroom stall, but you heard the door open just as you were looking for a free locker for your bag.
“Newbie?” A voice called.
“Uh, Payton, right?”
A bleached-blonde teen saluted you, the dozen pins on their jacket clicking at the motion. “That’s me.”
Your eyes landed on the… green glitter(?) coating their hands. They followed your gaze, turning their hands in front of them with a laugh. “I usually work in the daycare. But I’ve been all over.”
“There’s a daycare here?”
“You didn’t know? There’s a lot of stuff here. I feel like even I’m still learning—just today I found out that we make tacos.”
They jabbed a thumb at the door, one hand fiddling with a lanyard while they walked. “I’d give you the full tour, but that’d take your whole shift, and I’m leaving in two hours.”
You followed them out into the main area, weaving through groups of kids and teens and parents. Above all the racket, music started booming. Payton seemed to perk up, turning around to face you with a grin.
“Ooh, they’re doing the closing performance! C’mon, you gotta see this.”
You ducked into an elevator, watching Payton bob their head to the music. You couldn’t help but join—the music was admittedly catchy. Very… retro.
When the doors opened… you were met with a massive open space. There were shopping malls smaller than what you were looking at. Multiple levels, huge neon signs littered everywhere, escalators and stairs, fountains…
You didn’t have time to gawk too much. Payton was hurrying down an escalator towards the source of the music (and beams of flashing lights): a stage.
“I don’t get to see these guys perform very often,” they explained breathlessly, practically shouting over the noise. “But it’s totally my guilty pleasure.”
Honestly, you couldn’t blame them for that. For one, the music was pretty good, and two… as you approached the stage, you realized that there were animatronics moving about. You’d assumed they were people from afar, and even now you questioned if they were people in suits.
“Those are… robots?”
“Our animatronic mascots!” Payton announced grandly, gesturing with both hands to the stage. “Pretty cool, huh? They’re hella advanced!”
“That’s a word for it,” you breathed. Then, louder for Payton to hear: “Nothing like what I’m used to.”
Payton laughed, nodding. “Yeah, these aren’t those cruddy chuck-e-cheese puppets—not by a long shot.”
You just hummed, watching the four move across the flashing stage, strumming guitars, mashing keyboards, twirling a microphone like a baton… it was surreal.
“We missed the intro,” Payton began again, leaning in to speak, “but that one’s Freddy!”
They gestured to the one with the microphone. The kids seemed more enamored with him; jumping and clapping whenever he got close to the stage’s edge. He was quite literally the poster boy, and he looked the part. Bright colors, an inoffensive face—he looked like he was constantly smiling. It made your own lips curve into a grin.
“Chica,” Payton went on, pointing to a pink-clad bird animatronic. She was strumming a guitar with casual flourishes, glancing around at the other animatronics like she was just happy to be up there with them. Somehow, you decided that she was the friendliest among the four. From what you could gather by looking at a performance, anyhow.
“Roxy.” In the center of the stage, mashing away at a keyboard, was a wolf animatronic. Her eyes were locked on the crowd, seemingly very focused. She didn’t even look away when she had to side-step to dodge Monty, still playing the keyboard, still watching. It was impressive, honestly. You could guess that she was the more serious character.
“And Monty,” Payton gestured as a gator animatronic swept by the front of the stage. He looked a bit different from the others—more punk, for sure. And the way he carried himself matched; with head-banging and dramatic turns and flourishes, it was almost obnoxious. Almost—frankly, it just seemed like he had the loudest personality.
“You lucked out! Usually it’s Bonnie on bass—don’t see Monty up there often.”
“There’s more of them??”
Payton laughed, clapping you on the back instead of answering.
Just as soon as the music had started, one final strum ended the song, and the animatronics… they didn’t go still. Rather, they heaved. Like they were breathing. Like real rockstars after an intense show. Chica blew kisses. Freddy knelt to high-five a kid. Roxy waved nonchalantly. Monty had his fists in the air like he was celebrating.
You tilted your head. There was so much… personality. Detail. Effort. It was artful.
And as they started to back towards the curtains… you swore that one of them, finally spotting you in the crowd, winked at you.
You just blinked, dazed by the whole performance.
“Well,” Payton huffed, clearing their throat after cheering. “Let’s get back to training, huh?”
oh yaaahh.. whatever the writing equivalent of brain candy is... that's what i'm doing
anyways, tysm for reading!! take care of yourselves lovey dovies <3
