Confessions

“My name is Jeremy Fitzgerald. I work the night shift at Freddy Fazbear’s. It probably sounds familiar to you, because it’s had… renovations…Um, a re-opening, I think.  It shut down, or something like that  a few years back. Well, not exactly, bec-”

A loud, obnoxious sigh.

“Please get to the point, Mister Fitzgerald.”

She exudes an aura of bitchiness.  Those glasses, jesus. Probably couldn’t see a problem staring her right in her stupid face.  The fingernails rattling on the table also don’t really help me  keep whatever patience I had when I agreed to this thing. Knick-knick-knick. Like a woodpecker. Whatever. She IS pulling a risky move by agreeing to publish this, but then again you don’t have too much to lose when you’re a tabloid journalist

“Shit, let’s start again. Sorry, mind’s been a little shot to hell lately. “

She looked down at the silver metal device, and stopped banging the edge long enough to click,  and rewind the tape. Then to click play, and hopefully she keeps her hands on her lap this time.


“...Okay, we’re recording? Alright. My name’s Jeremy Fitzgerald, and I work at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza at night, first guy to work the night shift since it opened up actually. And the job’s why I’m here today. See, work conditions have been stressful…”


I punched in at 11:45. It was my first night on the job. I just sit down in the office and watch the whole place with some cameras  to make sure nobody burns down the place or steal something worth taking, like the robots. But here’s the thing. The robots are supposed to also enforce that authority. The new ones, anyways.

They’ve got some program that recognizes criminal’s faces. Which must be really shitty because they’ve really wanted to investigate what’s going on in my office these past two nights.

Now, I’m a sociable guy. I don’t mind it if my roommate brings people over. But what I do mind is when those fuckers go in my room. And for the past two nights, these robots have done nothing but try to get into my office.  I was told that they’re always like this, which is weird because that’d be a pretty big safety hazard, right? Nope, they’re only like this at night, according to a couple of coworkers.

And here’s where things get weird. I was told to put on an animal hemet whenever they’re about to come into my office. They apparently confuse me for the robot underneath their suits,and try to compensate for that by putting a suit on me. They’ll try to get into my office so they can do that, and they’ll probably take the hallway to get inside, or through my vents. They were OHSA required apparently, for air conditioning. Either way, I wanted to keep an eye out of them apparently.

I thought it was just a joke, until one of the animatronics went missing. A blue rabbit, specifically. My balls dropped down to the floor when I saw him missing from the line-up of three on the Stage’s feed.  I watched it move down to the party room, his eyes focused on me the whole time. They dilated to pinpricks when he left the stage, actually. That, coupled with his pose with a guitar gave me the impression he was on something. Maybe ecstasy, because he had a wide-ass smile on his face.

Then he saw my vents. And moved towards them. Could’ve sworn that asshole’s smile grew bigger.

He crawled inside, and started moving towards the exit.


When he was at the exit, and was peering into my office, I threw the helmet on as fast I could. Not ashamed to admit it. He crawled out anyways, and stepped up to me. His smile frozen all the while. I saw his eyes peer into mine.


And I heard him take a deep breath. You know, when wind rushes in at just the right moment, and you have that nice, relaxing inhale and exhale? I heard it. I swear to god, I could hear the rush of air out of the nostrils coming from that machine.

He shifted his staring away from me and over my shoulder, as if he was trying to remember something, and turned to crawl  back into the vent…Yeah, Miss Batson, is it? I know that look, the look of skepticism. These things are capable of this, I swear. They’re walking around during the day too, actually. My co-worker said that they’re great with kids and adults during the day. Phin also clarified that they’re supposed to be inanimate at night, but you can see where I’m going with this story.

I took a nice deep breath before getting back to “work”.

I was old to keep winding a music box located next to a gift box, or the box’s occupant would leave for my office. Apparently, it was attracted to noise, and when the closest noise source stops, the next best thing to hear would be my air-conditioned office and the subtle buzzing of my camera device. That was bullshit, because I didn’t humor the man on the phone at all during my first night, until the rabbit came into my office and things got weird. I checked the camera systems to ensure that the occupant hadn’t gotten out, when I saw the box.

It somehow aged twenty years in the two minutes since I last checked it’s camera feed. It was dingy, and damp like cardboard in the rain. The difference between the gift box and the cardboard though, was the black substance dripping out from the lid of the box, which was slowly beginning to open up as my music box began to close to a finish.

I was actually kinda paralyzed by what I saw going on here, because the lid opened up and hung over the sides without any visible assistance. The box was now drooped, and looked soggy from the amount of darkness dripping down it’s sides. As I wound the box up again, the stains began to fade and the box was back to it’s condition. It was like a time lapse but re-

“Jeremy, we don’t have all day.I know this would go well with the conspiracy theorists, but I have readers to feed. Seniors and adults alike buy our mag for gossip, not for horror stories.”

Right, we’re getting to that.



2
Just so we’re on the same page here, you don’t believe the part about the box, right? That’s okay with me since I don’t expect you to write about the spooky, para-natural or whatever they call that voodoo bullshit… Your readers will want something juicy. I mean, no offense but they’d rather take the bait right in front of them, than the real stuff a few yards away. They’re like goldfish.

“None taken,” she says. “But what exactly is underneath the ‘voodoo bullshit’ and such of the pizzeria, Mr. Fitzgerald? What is it that you’ve got that’ll blow them away?

Well, shit. Where to begin. All this is just set-up for the real good stuff. When I get to Phin’s part, you’ll have the info you need.

I continued through my night in a cycle of winding up the box, and watching for the rabbit. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least. It spent most of his time in the vent on my left after it stepped into my office. Sometimes he’d crawl back around the corner of the vent for a while, and just stare at my camera. Like he knew I was watching him.

I didn’t like his stare, so I just listened for the sound of banging coming from the vents, while keeping that box wound up.  He’d look at me from the exit, so I’d put the helmet back on; at which point he crawled out of the vent and gave a bit of a scan of the office, before he ducked back inside.

Still, it really wanted to be inside my office for some reason.

Then it was five in the morning when the rest of his buddies came off the stage. Freddy Fazbear , who’s supposed to be their mascot, mind you- and a chicken. Both of these looked less like the animals they’re supposed to represent after they left the stage.


The bear was bad news. His eyes, they just blacked out like a camera feed or a television. I could still see his brown “eyelids” around the black, though, and that was even worse. It was like a demon.

The chicken seemed to have done something with her eyes and beak. For one, she didn’t have eyes. For two, she didn’t have a beak anymore.  The disappearance of those revealed the cold metal interior underneath, like the Terminator.  She and the bear walked together in the same path towards my office. I heard jingling down the hall, and some mechanical steps as they shambled around the corner, chicken following Freddy, while the rabbit messed around in the vent and I knew the box was ticking down.  I realized it was going to be tough keeping track of four different things at once. Then I was interrupted in my thoughts..

A little jingle from the tablet I use to monitor the camera, signifying that it was six in the morning. I watched them turn around and walk back to the stage, slowly but cleanly; not at all like the movement of the two late guests who were quite clumsy.

I went out to get a coffee immediately after before I came back to talk with Phin, and scheduled my appointment with you.

“So you’re telling me you’ve been the night guard for-”

One day. Yep.

“That’s rea-”

Just bear with me.

Something juicy's coming up.