Five Nights of Eternal Darkness Chapters 1-5

History... history will not be kind to me. Even I, myself, despise the actions I had to take... but they HAD to be done. For the sake of the world as it is, was, and could have been I HAD to! It was an action that... let me begin again.
My name is not important. People do not remember it and they do not care. What they do care about was what happened in 1987.
The beginnings of the day... I was on my way, the way to a job. A very basic, very simple job. I was the day watchman at a pizza place, a children's restaurant with... unusual creatures that were newly made at the time. These were referred to as "Animatronics", robots designed to look and act like children's characters.
On my way, I passed an odd sight. A sight that would change my life for the worse. On the side of the road was a crashed car, a destroyed and ruined wreck with only a few things left. I pulled over, a choice I now regret immensely...
As I approached the wreckage and the front seat, I found a disturbing sight. This would be the first of many. I found a dead body, clutching a book and a tire-iron. I don't know why, maybe it was destined to happen, but I took the book. Oh, how I wish I had not.
I touched the odd, leathery book of the deceased and dropped it upon the ground, grasping my head as a sudden surge enveloped me. I saw the life of others pass me by. The life of those just as unfortunate as I was. At the time, they seemed odd and unconnected, like a series of photographs removed from different pieces of literature. Knowing what I do now, I know it all comes together, but... it's too late now.
I had not a cellphone nor was there a payphone near, I had to return to my car and gather my thoughts and a pocket of change to get help. Before I sped off, I grabbed the book and held it close. Ignorant as I was to whatever was happening, I knew the book was a key part.
Although I had called the police and had the book, they found no crash nor body.
After the police left and assured that I had seen a mirage, I returned to my job. Yes, the job I assume many of you have guessed by now.
Freddy Fazbear's was not always a place of fear and mystery. At one point it was a legitimate business, based upon the rose-tinted glasses of youth. It had fun and games, food and treats for friends and family alike. Everyone was a member of the Fazbear family, until the day it -or rather, I- happened.
Many call me Purple. They said purple is a powerful color, designated to royalty and those of higher standings. I was the opposite; a janitor. The lowest ring on the Fazbear chain. I had an important job, yes, but very little respect. It was of the first days things had gone wrong. What I say may not justify my actions to you, and may just be ramblings of a madman, but I know, that if there is a god above, someone will.
You have guessed my name and know of my actions, but you know not of why I did deeds that even the most heinous of felons detest.
The first incident was something I regret not stopping sooner. The night after receiving the book, I would find the first of several incidents.
Freddy Fazbears was a simple business. The doors opened at 7, with one hour of prep time for the kitchen staff and it closed at nine. My shift was from 9:30 to 4, from there the security guard would come and keep watch for the remaining two hours. Until then it was a job of me, my walkman, the night, and the bear. I needn't tell you about the songs I listened to, nor the inconsequential series of events leading to the incident. The time was... it was some time after 1, but I am unsure as I had not brought a watch with my usual belongings and I didn't feel time was important at that moment. I had heard a banging noise from the side of the building. I'd dismiss it as raccoon or strays getting into the trash, had it not been for the earlier events... and the book I still carried with me. The scratching and clanging continued for hours on end, like the heart in the floorboards or the feeling of guilt, its sound only grew louder and louder as time went on. Finally, I had given in to my curiosity.
As I kept the broom to my side in order to defend myself, I opened the door to empty blackness and braced for the worst.
I entered the black of night, holding the door open to make a fast escape, should the time comes. I stared into the empty darkness, scanning for a sign of anything to quell my fears. I found nothing and returned to my work, setting my music to keep my mind off of my own imagination.
The as I worked, I had often heard clanging and crashing, horrible sounds that as I rushed to find them lead to nothing but things that were knocked down or broken. After the second instance I had left the building and returned to the parking lot, using my car light to read what to do in the situation.
It was a few minutes before animal control arrived and entered the building, assuring me that it wasn't uncommon for an animal to find its way into a building and not find its way out. The man entered with a net and a smile on his face, assuring me the situation would be solved in no time at all.
I pity that man. Nobody deserved the fate he suffered, even my fate, as I tell you this, was a far better one than his. It was a terrible noise, the shriek for help of a formerly prideful man. I was unsure what to do as he screamed, my fear grasping me as the worst came to fruition. One could see it as ironic, being that fear would be what many considered my most powerful weapon. I heard the shouts and screeches, a horrific, guttural noise filling the air at the moment before silence.
I called into the building, repeatedly. Only the terrible clattering noise answered. Before I could react, the figure of the man began running down the halls, towards the door. Towards me.
As the man rushed at me I stared at his cold, soulless eyes that seemed to pierce the atmosphere. He grabbed for me as I slammed the glass door onto him, he, not even flinching at having been struck by the door, began pounding on it furiously. He was intent on having me. I had gotten a closer look, and as I tried to slip out the employee handbook for other emergency numbers, the odd, leather bound book found itself in my hands instead. As I read inside, a deep, pounding voice in my head; a voice was unsure was even there read to me what was upon the page, even in the dimmed lights.
It told me of a beast, a terrible beast. This beast would crawl into the human body and take over, eviscerating the host until it had nothing more but a pale skin over its own hideous figure. As I turned to stare back at what had once been a man, I had found that very smug smile of a man sure of victory had been replaced with a grimace of pure anger and hatred. As I hastily returned to the book, the voice told me more and more about the creature itself until finally, it told me the cure. It was not a cure I would enjoy, nor was it a cure I would have wanted, but it was the only one I had.
The bonethief in his puppet's disguise was to be purged by blade and flame. As I grasped my broomhandle and carefully locked the glass door, I feared what would follow.
It would only hold so long as I ran to the man's truck, hoping, neigh, praying for a blade to help in this battle. As I heard the creature bang on and on on the door, I found what I had to use to improvise with: a metal hoop, used to constrict around an animal's neck and a tranquilizer rifle.
I was, beforehand, not a religious man, but as the night continued, I feared I should have listened to my rabbi's teachings more often.
I had never used a gun before, the feeling of a tranquilizer rifle in my arms felt unusual to me. A trial by fire was probably the last thing I needed now as I heard the demon-spawn bash violently against the pizzeria doors, the plexiglass unlikely to hold any longer, I dropped the rifle, foolish a choice it may have been to those who could wield such a device, in favor of the looped wire on the end of a metal stick. As I gulped and shook, removing myself from the truck, I saw the man thrashing against the glass door, it getting closer and closer to its breaking point. I took the ring of keys and opened the lock, pulling the door away as the man tore himself from the building's interior. Finally, he turned as I shook, holding the crude items in my hands. His yellow, deathly eyes looking at me as he dove towards me.
I am, or rather, was, not what one would call physically fit. I was thin and pale, almost appearing malnourished to those who did not know me. I had neither strength nor speed nor endurance to keep me going in a situation like this. Had this been a standard fare I should have died.
...I should have died. I thought back on that term every time I recount this tale. How had the world changed had I not survived that night? Would those children still have died? Would Freddy's have been shut down? I am getting ahead of myself now, and for that I apologize.
I stared into the golden eyes of that which wanted nothing more but my corpse. I had never fought before, as I had never reason too. As the beast bared upon me I finally struck, catching it with the metal wiring in the jaw, pushing it away. I returned to the restaurant, knowing full well it would follow. I rushed into the kitchen, the only source of fire I could think of.
The kitchen of the pizzeria would see much bloodshed over the years, but that night would be the first of a long line.
The Fazbear Pizzeria's kitchen is a mystery to some who were not allowed inside. As a janitor, I assure you that there was nothing worthy of mystery or theories. It was a simple, albeit large kitchen. Pictures of the founder enjoying pizzas with drawn pictures of Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy hung on the walls alongside basic instructions for new trainees. There were numerous utensils lying about counters, tabletops, and the floor, presumably because of the creature mussing the place up. Several sinks were strewn about, for both cooking and cleaning purposes. The floors and walls were made up of black and white tiles forming a checkerboard pattern. There was two doors in the back that had a freezer and a fire exit, marked respectively. In the middle of it all was a large pizza oven, an astoundingly large pizza oven that was able to cook as many pizzas as needed be to feed a large rush of customers.
I pulled down the door to the oven, preheating it accordingly as I braced for the resulting brawl. I hid beside the door, keeping the large pole close to not give away my position. Finally, after a time that felt far longer than any hour I felt before or after, the beast entered. I came from behind and gave a mighty shove, but the beast turned as it fell and grabbed my jumpsuit. It drug me down with it as we both sat in front of a sweltering oven. It was not a fun battle, the creature assaulted with fingernails that had, somehow, grown out to the sharpness of claws. It scratched and clawed my face as I pulled myself away. The body convulsed on the ground as I backed away, grabbing the pole in anticipation for a follow-up assault. As a terrible tearing noise followed and my body adjusted to the pain, I saw my eyes rest upon a cruel, pale green imp. It stared back at me, and I felt terrible. Far, far more terrible than I would ever or will ever feel again. It dove into my soul and tore apart whatever it could simply by looking at me.