Frieda's Pizza Lounge & Social Club: Night 1 PT1

  Mike found himself slowly getting back into the swing of things, adjusting himself on the office chair. Now that he was alone, Miss Megan’s words played back in his head, “Now now, Michael, I can assure you tonight will be rather uneventful. We have our technician on-site for the rest of the week, so if you have any questions about our performers or the lounge itself, please don’t hesitate to page his workstation. Now, if there’s nothing else, I'm off. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Mr. Schmidt.”

  Despite her words of encouragement, it did little to ease Mike’s fears. Stewing over his experience would make his first night more complicated than it should, Mike decided to take a better look at his no-longer-so-cramped den of possible death to take the edge off his mind. One of the things that caught his eyes was some of the posters of the performers. Some illustrated with kid friendly intent, while others looked more adult-oriented enough to be featured in a risqué magazine. Shaking his head, he shrugged it off, not paying heed to whatever degenerate decided to make those pictures and instead of turning his attention to the terminal on his desk.

Mike initiated the security feed and began to switch through different cameras.

  Much to his delight, the feed was surprisingly clear, making it perfectly easy to pick up the slightest bit of oddity with a flick of his eyes. Checking through the left and right halls, He brought up the other camera feed, placed in an area of the hall that allowed him to view the blind spots by the doors, letting him see whoever was outside. This gave him some more relief. Switching off the cameras, He eased into his chair more as he started to take in all the information he knew so far.
‘Okay, let's take this from the top...’ he thought to himself.

  ‘Old management is gone. Forever. New management is quite wealthy with all the right connections. The whole place underwent renovations. They want me here and are willing to pay better. The mechanical spawns-from-hell underwent complete dismantling, upgrading, remodeling… and they're able to 'think'. Claimed to be safe, though highly unsure of the validity of that statement. Resting his feet on the desk, he processed all the new information he was given. It was an interesting yet unnerving development. Despite the unfamiliarity to his new workplace, Mike felt secure knowing that a professional technician was on site.


  ‘If anything went wrong, that guy would be able to fix it, that’s why he’s here.’ Mike rationalized to himself.
So for once, he decided to relax, if they had managed to fix those things, his time here might become slightly easier. The desk fan blew gently against him, the only thing he could ask for right now would be a cup of hot coffee, however, the renovations weren't quite complete, so Mike could only assume a coffee machine would be added to his desk later.
Mike’s eyes slowly danced over the furnishings on his desk. There was only the fan, a radio, and a rotary phone which had speed dial numbers in the center dial for the manager's office, the technician’s station, and emergency services.
Satisfied with his examination of his workstation, Mike returned to the console, bringing the cameras back up. Much to his chagrin, people started clearing out, and the lights started dimming which meant his first night was about to begin.


"Ok," he muttered under his breath, mentally preparing himself for the night ahead of him while adjusting his chair.

"Showtime".

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[Night 1: Monday...or rather Bunday]

12:05 AM


   The air was cool yet oddly thick with tension. The Night-guard known as 'Michael Schmidt' sat back gently, taking a deep breath to relax, quietly contemplating the various life choices and regrets that lead him to this place. Mike would soon jolt slightly as the phone rang to life. He slid his chair forward to reach out and answer the call, one of which he was still unsure about truly answering. To start the night off right, Mike decided to indulge himself by turning the radio on. He wasn’t too sure what station to tune into, but after a bit of searching, his ears captivated by a sultry, feminine voice coming from the radio.

“Gooooooooood evening, my fellow creatures of the night~ This is 96.6, The Dusk, the radio station that’s only live at midnight I’m your host, the Mistress of Midnight, the Bedmate of the Bewitching Hour, the Sweetheart of the Small Hours, Aria Weiss~”

  Mike smirked and leaned forward in his chair, observing the camera feed as the hostess on the radio spoke. The halls looked sleeker, refined, and cleaned. Flashbacks continued to prevail over him though, forgetting the tacky hung decorations and children’s drawings was proving more difficult than he originally thought. The thought of those distant silhouettes in the darkness sent chills down his spine.


  “To all my new listeners I know what all of you are thinking, ‘Miss Weiss, why are you the only radio station that’s not on air during the day?” The sweet-sounding hostess giggled, “Well that’s simple, silly. I’m a creature of the night. I can’t function during the day as your silly day-walkers do~”


  Aria’s voice from the radio chimed Mike back into reality, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself before continuing to check the other feeds. The showroom and dining area was the most elaborately designed and spacious part of the lounge. Having at least three different cams, one for the dining area, the stage, and an overhead feed which captured the entire room perfectly. The whole thing made Mike feel a little uneasy, but the soft breeze on his face and the sweet voice on the radio seemed to take the edge off.


  "Tonight you can expect a little nip in the air, but clear, starry skies throughout the night So if I were you I’d want to bundle up with a warm body, just to be safe~" the hostess continued, “But enough about what I want, let’s listen to what you want, there's a question right here that came from one of my faithful listeners~”


  Mike switched the feed to the main lobby where Miss Megan was seen conversing with a rather curvy looking woman wearing a black dress with a part in the side that exposed her leg, black gloves that came up just slightly above her elbows, fishnet stockings, and black heels. She looked familiar, yet different at the same time. Mike found it somehow unnerving to watch the pair exchange pleasantries.


  Fiddling with the console controls, Mike zoomed the camera in on the pair, and as if by a psychic premonition, the manager looked up, grinned at the camera, and pointed towards it. The curvaceous woman turned around to face the camera, and it became clear to Mike that this was no normal woman. Her eyes glowed softly with warm LEDs, her head sported a pair of round bear ears and soft chocolate locks. Her face was not human, rather, the face of an anthropomorphic she-bear.


With half-lidded eyes and brow raised coyly, the she-bear stared right at him, smiling warmly in acknowledgment.


  It all hit Mike at once, this thing was his good pal Fazbear straight from his nightmares. His breath quickened and his eyes darted from the monitor to the windows on either side of his office. He was coming. Mike knew it. His time was limited. He had to make sure that THING couldn’t get in. Mike started panicking, he checked the monitor again only to find the manager leaving the premises and you-know-who, missing. He was about to fall into a state of pure hysteria when the voice of the hostess rang softly in his ears, almost calming him instantly.


“Now take a nice, deep breath and count with me We’ll shake out all those midnight jitters you folks might be having right about now So… One… Two… Three… Four… Let all your stress from the day just melt away and be replaced with that warm, fuzzy feeling of comfort~” She said calmly.

  Although he wouldn’t admit it, Mike found himself after the hostess’ instructions, calmly breathing in and out and counting along.


“One. Two. Three. Four.” Mike continued to count until the hostess stopped counting.


   “Are we all calmed down? All the shakes and jitters out of you? Good Now then… let’s get some music going on, hmm? I’d like to dedicate this song to the only man in my life, who has been there for me every step of the way and dare I say loves me more than you, my dear listeners~ Schwartz, this one’s for you~” Miss Aria spoke softly before the radio began to play Paul Anka’s ‘Put Your Head On My Shoulder.’


  'This can't be happening' Mike thought to himself as the music played softly in the background. He browsed through the cameras to find IT. That goddamn bear, that walking nightmare just waiting to spring and gut him when he least expects it. Soon enough, he found the she-bear in the dining area, casually drinking from a champagne glass while leaning against one of the tables.



"You’re not supposed to be here…" he muttered to himself, "what do I even do with you?"


  His question as soon as he asked himself, on the monitors' Mike noticed a couple of figures on the backstage camera. The backstage looked straight out of a neo-eighties club, soft magenta and cyan neon lights arranged in smooth patterns along the walls and ceiling, a few mild green lasers dancing around the room, but the most eye-catching part about the backstage was the four charging stations placed at the far wall.


  Mike swallowed a lump in his throat, he saw them. All of them save for that damned bear. His heart skipped a beat and his mind started to wander back to his hell. Hand trembling, Mike panned the camera to see no one there, but a terminal and desk where this 'technician' would be. It was now or never, and Miss Megan did say that if he had any questions he should call the technician. Mike eyed the phone, hesitating for a moment before grabbing the receiver and pressing the speed dial button labeled “technician.”
The phone rang twice, and Mike watched as the man backstage stood up before picking up the receiver from the phone on his desk and putting it to his ear.
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A young, clear voice came through Mike’s receiver, “Yo.”


"Oh yeah, hello. I’m Michael Schmidt, the new security guard? And I’ve got a quick question. The boss said that the bots are completely rebuilt and ‘reformed,’ is that true? Because I saw what I could only assume was Freddy Fazbear," Mike asked in a calm yet concerned tone.

A small chuckle was heard on the other end. "Ah, well nice to meet you, Schmidt, I take it you saw Mama then?"

“Mama?" replied Mike in confusion.


  "Yeah, Lemme tell you a story. One day I’m minding my business when all of a sudden I’m approached by a man with a lot of money and a lot of power, he goes, ‘Listen, I’ve heard about what you’ve done and I’d like you to do something for me. We’ll pay you well and we believe it’s something only you can do.’ So you can imagine my surprise when I had five rotting, ugly looking animatronics in my workshop. They tell me what they want, they want a band and they want them to look like the fancy synthetics we have nowadays. Faces, thighs, boobs, emotions, and all. So I do what I do best, fix things. It took me a while but I completely overhauled everything, from their endoskeleton to their AI, all of it reworked. But I’m rambling, Mama Frieda, formerly known as Freddy, is the poster child of our establishment, our patrons love her, always mingling and chatting with people, even taking occasional song requests," The technician went on, getting up and walking towards the charging stations, he leans on the station that’s currently housing Bonnie.


  “I was briefed on your experiences, Mister Schmidt and I’d like you to know they’re perfectly safe and wouldn’t harm a single hair on your head.”


  However, despite the technician’s words of comfort, Michael's eyes darted to Bonnie, who began showing signs of 'life,' which immediately causing his stomach to turn over in his gut. Slowly the robotic hare lifted the top half of the charger, getting up and stretching its limbs. The ears began articulating left and right as if stretching as well. Bonnie observed its surroundings, fluidly turning its body to look at the room. Oddly enough, a smile formed on the rabbits' faces upon seeing the camera looking at her charging station. Good lord the technician was right about giving the machines the ability to emote. She was Staring directly, or what he thought was direct, at him. His heart nearly skipped a beat as he spun his chair around to look away from the screen.


"Y-you don't say," Michael replied, calming his nerves done by breathing, "Is she the headliner?"


"Yeah but she always shares the limelight with her bandmates. She and the crew headline our shows,” the technician continued, "Now that doesn't mean she doesn't occasionally do a solo act or two. Right next to Bonnie & Foxy, Mama is also one of our more active solo performers".

"Is that right?" Inquired Mike, disbelief in his tone. The entire time contemplating whether to look back at the screen or not, while listening to the technician ramble.


  "Oh yeah, but at these hours she’s pretty laid back and easy-going. If she's not as her piano on stage, she'll either be at the bar or wandering the hallways admiring the portraits, making sure everything's all in order." The technician stated. Mike finally willed himself to turn around and watch the backstage camera again, the rabbot was gone.


"Hold the thought, Sinatra," he said, putting the receiver down. Mike could start hearing movement and noises from the end of the phone.

"Uh, is everything alright?" Mike asked.


“Yeah! Listen I’m sorry about not being here tonight, there was some last-minute franchise business that I had to take care of for management. Nothing major, just some details on a few deals and leftover paperwork. But it all went through smoothly! I'm actually on my way back to the lounge now as we speak, and if traffic and weather are permitting, you might see me right as you clock out. Hell, I might be able to make it just in time enough to rescue you from them, hahaha!” Schwartz laughed humorously. The night-guard simply turned his head slowly to the phone and gave it a look that could’ve potentially killed.


“But in all seriousness, You’re going to do, and be fine. Everything is fine. This ain’t the old world anymore. A new place, with a new face, new theme, new management, and new memories for everyone to enjoy. The only thing old here is well, you. But don’t see that as a negative, it means you have the much-needed experience someone of this position needs, which I know sounds odd given your circumstances. Management themselves are even curious about you and you’re history. So with this trial week, we’ll be able to see just how qualified you are. So chin up! Cause I have a feeling you’re gonna end up as a newer face in the Fazbear family”



  "Hey, Casanova, I'm back. What were we talking about? Eh, nevermind, probably wasn’t important. Say, Bonnie's awake and about, as you probably saw. So play nice and don't scare her off, okay? Mmkay. Anything else you need to know? Cause I have to see to Foxy and Chica if not." The tech asked.


  Mike's face was a mixture of nervousness and fear, switching to the show stage feed, where the rabbit was present once more, stretching its arms and legs to get its servo going. He eventually snapped back into reality after the tech cleared his throat to get his attention,


"Uh right, will I have to worry about Fred-er-Frieda at all?" He managed to utter, eyes glued on Bonnie.
"As I said, you have nothing to worry about. She went through a personality and programming overhaul. They walk, they talk, they experience life the same way we do, save for the whole ‘we have blood,’ thing." The tech said in trying to assuage Mike’s fears. It helped, sort of. The thought alone that the bots can walk and talk like a human being was interesting but also scary, even more so now that Bonnie is up and about.

"Ah, alright then. Thanks for the assurance," Mike replied calmly. "Sorry If I disturbed you, they...just took me by surprise"
"Yeah no worries, she tends to take people by surprise, so my advice to you is ready." The tech rambled with another small chuckle on his end.


"Thanks uh... say, I didn’t catch your name mister?" Mike replied, swallowing a lump in his throat as the feeling of impending doom built up in his gut.


“Schwartz. Call me up when you have any questions. Dunno what the boss told you, but I’m not as busy as she says. See you.” Schwartz replied before hanging up.


  Mike’s attention returned to the feed, Schwartz had hung up the phone and was hovering over Chica’s charging station and fiddling with some buttons on it. It unnerved Mike to see such a man so carelessly tinkering with those allegedly reformed killers.
He flicked through a couple of cameras only to find robotic hare was gone again from the stage. Heart kicking up like a V8, Mike started pressing through different feeds to keep track of it. Bonnie appeared in the utility closet feed. It was roomy now, with shelves holding items ranging from cleaning supplies to more decorations. The rabbot started rearranging cleaning supplies, reaching up to put something away. Taking advantage of the situation to learn a little more about what he’s dealing with, Mike found himself zooming in on Bonnie.

  From a purely observational point, she appeared to have a little cottontail, which was adorable in its way. Bonnie also wore fishnet stockings on her legs. Boy did she have legs for days, Moving the camera up, he got to see her upper body. Bonnie's ears were more articulated, moving systematically to the sense of sound while occasionally dropping to the side. Bonnie stopped for a moment before turning her upper body toward the camera, looking back with intrigue in her face.

  She wore a bodysuit, a collar with her signature red bowtie, and cuffs on each hand. something like what Hugh Hefner's playmates would wear. As her eyes met the camera, Mike felt a twinge in his gut and his heart. He immediately cycled off the feed and back to the main menu of his workstation. He tabbed through a few miscellaneous folders. Calendars, event dates, hours, banned patrons, staff numbers, and the like before his eyes were drawn to a tab labeled “SEC.”

  Mike pressed the tab and the first thing that caught his eye was an application labeled "Performers Status.” Accessing it, the screen went on to produce five portraits of the animatronics. Frieda, Chica, Bonnie, Foxy, and a currently empty portrait labeled “UNDER MAINTENANCE.” Wanting to know a little more about his soon-to-be-demise, Mike selecting the portrait of Frieda. The screen went on to produce a diagnostic of Frieda Fazbear.



 -----FAZBEAR ENTERTAINMENT PROFILE-----

[MODEL]: Frieda
[STATUS]: Active

[ROLE]: Bandleader
-Solo performer

-House warmer

Description: [A complete re-envisioning of the classic Freddy Fazbear. Frieda has found new life, reimagined as a crowd-pleasing and crowd mingling class act. Winner of two gold records, and the General Motors "Automaton of the Year" in '93, Frieda isn't your average entertainer. She’s most affectionately called “Mama” by most of the staff and the other synthetics in the lounge. Designed with the motherly figure in mind, Frieda is first to know if there are problems in the lounge and first to act if a customer requires attention.]

It was an interesting entry for that particular bear. Maybe there was more to this new management then he was aware of? Either way, he felt the need to learn more. Mike went on to check the tab labeled “Bonnie", but not before looking at both windows as the feeling of being watched chilled him to the core. Satisfied he wasn’t being watched, he turned his gaze to the screen. However, unbeknownst to him a pair of purple rabbit ears rose by the window, followed by a pair of pink eyes.
The hostess’s voice chimed from the radio, “Can you believe it’s 2:30 already~? I’ll be signing off in a few hours, so please stay tuned in and let me whisk you away to pleasures of the night~”
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    With power at one hundred percent, and servos perfectly lubed, Bonnie was activated and roaming the lounge. After getting fully charged, she stood up to go and greet Mr. Schwartz, only to take a moment to see that the backstage camera seemed to be active. The rabbot seemed slightly surprised, before catching the technician’s attention. After testing her sensors and moving her ears to make sure correct articulation, they embraced in a hug as he began to tell her of the new guy. From what he said, the new night guard sounded nice but a bit on the shy side. Still, it was enough to make a smile form on her lips. Feeling more inclined the meet the new guy, she left to go and take care of whatever chores needed completing. As she walked out on stage, she strode toward the end and performed an athletic flip, landing perfectly on her feet.


  The dining area wasn't too bad, only a couple of tables needed some shining, as well as a few minor pieces of trash. Bonnie took care of the tables first, wiping some while adjusting the fabrics that decorated them. Soon music started playing, filling the room with an ambient and laid back vibe as Bonnie's ears perked up. She turned to see Frieda at her piano, eyes half-lidded as she played away a rich, harmonious tune. She looked over towards Frieda, the bearbot smiled warmly in response.


The time was 2:55 AM


A small hum could be heard as she stretched out her servos, before taking another moment to look around. A few chairs needed to be pushed in, tables required some setting, other than that her list of chores was short. With a Sway in its steps, Bonnie began to tidy up the dining room a bit, before wandering off to do her own thing. She straightened out a few tables before sliding in a few loose chairs. Then she noticed there was some leftover garbage. Bending over to pick it up, she struggled for a bit. Meanwhile, the dining room camera became active and scanned the room, before stopping on Bonnie.

Somehow, Bonnie realized she was being watched as she poked her Lil head out from under the table to look up at the Camera, The red dot faded. Curiosity peaked within the rabbot. She recalled some of the conversations they overheard from the technician of a new ‘watchman’ for the establishment. For Bonnie, meeting new faces was always a delight, as was the possibility of making new acquaintances. With a smile forming around her synthetic lips, she started skipping towards the direction of the two hallways. Before trotting off, she looked back at the stage, and then towards the infamous ‘pirate cove’, tilting her head slightly wondering if her high-seas companion was okay. But deep down she knew better than to potentially disturb her.

Before she could choose which hallway to traverse, she heard the distant sounds of reinforced door shutters closing, causing her to jump back a bit. Those heavy doors were always thunderous to her sensitive receivers. After shaking it off, Bonnie decided to go right, figuring to use the ‘VIP Rooms’ as a shortcut to meet the new employee.

‘I hope they are nice’ Bonnie spoke to herself softly.

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The time was between 3:35 AM to 4:45 AM


If the watchman were to have chosen a career as an observer for a nature channel documentary, they might have been one of the most focused in the field. He watched as he saw the purple bun come to life on the stage, looking so incredibly different in her remodeling. Her movement was robotic yet also oddly fluid, a far cry from their uncanny maneuvering. But it wasn’t until she got to work where he saw her...cotton tail. He tilted his head in sheer curiosity, taking in the surprisingly pleasant view.


“wow” was all that he could utter to himself. It wasn’t until the rabbot peeked out from under the table and stared directly at the camera, causing him to put the tablet down in sheer panic. His eyes darted at both of the security doors, before deciding to close them both out of precaution. Once again checking the time.

The Rabbot strolled down the hallway, a gentle sway in its synthetic hips. To Bonnie, the after-hours were always peaceful and calm. Interacting with children and grown-up customers was always a fun experience, especially when she did her live performances. But the quietness, coupled with the company of her autonomous companions and occasional overnight staffer gave it a more homely and comfy aesthetic.

  Within the halls were collections of vintage movie posters hung up in cases, all containing notably famous performers. From ‘Beaglejuice’ & the ‘Indiana Jowls’ series, to ‘Gone with the Wing’ and ‘Beverly Hills Bob’ starring Billy bob of the Rock-a-fire Explosion. Bonnie straightened a few that were askew, taking the time to appreciate the cinematic representation of Animatronic Performers, often at times wondering would it would be like to be an ‘Alloywood Star’.

  Bonnie proceeded to skip down the hall towards the supply closet, humming a simple tune. She opened the door, Walking towards the shelf where the cleaning items came from, the rabbot tried to put them back but had a little trouble. Getting on its tiptoes, Bonnie tried again to put the items back in place with less struggle. Bonnie's ears suddenly perked up as she picked up the sound of the camera being manually controlled. She turned her head to look at the camera, but it then suddenly went back to its default position. This made her giggle a bit. Maybe the new guy was anxious to see her. Once she finished, she exited the closet and proceeded to make her way down the hall towards the security station. Meanwhile, the camera in that hallway came to life, observing her.


  She reached the corner of the hallway that leads to the office, but before they went any further, Bonnie realized it would need to take it slow and smooth. After taking a moment to stretch and wiggle her frame slightly, she ducked down and started crawling towards the security office, dodging the camera’s line of sight. Right underneath the window, Bonnie could hear activity inside. A smile formed on her lips as she slowly poked her head to look through the window. Bonnie photo-receptors were greeted by the sight of a man in the chair, staring intently at the terminal inside. Bonnie observed his features. The man appeared broad-shouldered, in his early thirties. Her facial reading software zoomed in on his face. The program tried to calculate his identity, but there seemed to be some type of processing error when trying to Identify him. That alone seemed kind of odd. Was there a small bug in the program?


  The man in the office suddenly had a look as Bonnie found herself ducking below the window, hiding from the man's line of sight. Bonnie's cheek LED's lit up once more, keeping low before she could pick up the sound of him turning the chair back towards the terminal. Slowly rising back up, she took another gander at the new night guard. This timed he leaned back in the chair, removing his hat and brushing back his hair. He looked like a pretty good guy, and he was very easy on the eyes. He was an improvement in terms of looks, certainly better than the last mug. Hopefully, his personality was just as charming. As she listened to him read her bio, Bonnie summoned up some courage, crawling up and standing by the doorway. She tried to process the proper opening line to greet him.
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The time was now 5:15 AM


The guard could not help but take a moment to both looks at some of the unique posters, but also take a closer look at her, more importantly; her cottontail. Something about it looked super soft and fluffy, like the perfect stress-relieving toy. His hand reached out slowly to the screen, pretending to slowly squeeze it with his hand before a sudden realization came to him.

‘Wait, what am I doing?’ he said to himself, suddenly finding himself questioning his curiosity. He placed the tablet down and rubbed his eyes.

  Perhaps it felt like a long night, despite it going by almost seamlessly. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the tablet back up to see the rabbit gone. Almost Immediately, his thumb skimmed through the feeds to find her. It wasn’t until he stumbled upon the utility room feed, he saw her. It was roomier now, with shelves holding items ranging from cleaning supplies to more decorations. The rabbot started rearranging cleaning supplies, reaching up to put something away. For some reason, the night guard found himself zooming in on Bonnie. This time, she was more up close and more crystal clear. Dear lord they certainly were reworked from the ground up. He began to recall the posters on the walls back then, showing their older, truer forms. How uncanny, bulky, and highly unnerving the animatronics were.

  But now, it was almost as if they had mutated, or evolved into something else completely. She seemed modeled more athletically, with legs that could go on for days. Adorned in a corset that could have been ripped from Hugh Hefner’s playmate closet, with a sequin-red bowtie on the back of her neck, she had a stylish and endearing appearance. Her joints even looked highly advanced in robotic design, compared to the old bulky designs.

But once again, he found his eyes drawn to her tail, and then eventually her figure. Someone on the re-design team must have had either very specific instructions or was a connoisseur of the derriere. The Nightguard couldn’t help but take his hands and form the shape of a heart, slowly bringing it to Bonnie’s buns. And it fits perfectly, which sort of raised even further concerns in him.

‘Oh no, it’s form-fitting’ he nervously thought. Fishnet stockings covered her legs. Boy howdy did she have legs for days, Moving the camera up, he got to see her upper body. Bonnie's ears were more articulated, moving systematically to the sense of sound while occasionally dropping to the side. The rabbot stopped for a moment, when suddenly they turned around, looked up at the camera, intrigue on her face, and gave a little wave, prompting him to once again put the tablet down and compose himself. Did they know he was watching them inappropriately?

‘Come on, get it together’ he said to himself, getting up from the chair to pace around the room, trying to calm himself, Heart kicking up like a V8. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of purple rabbit ears rose by the window, followed by a pair of pink eyes watching him.
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It was now 5:45 AM


Turning back to see nothing in the windows, he returned to his desk and saw a file labeled [FAZBEAR ENTERTAINMENT PROFILE]. Reaching over to grab it, he settled back into his chair and opened it up. Maybe this could help him learn more about them finally, resting back as he started reading the file aloud to himself;


-----FAZBEAR ENTERTAINMENT PROFILE-----
“[Bonnie BunBun: affectionately referred to as Bonnie, is the sweetheart of the Fazette’s. Standing about 5'7 and weighing a surprisingly light 135. Bonnie is the lead guitarist for the band, she has a rather large database of songs implemented in her memory and can execute said songs with flawless precision. Offstage her bubbly personality sobers up a little, she tends to be rather quiet and easily frightened. Always approach her like you would a scared child or a puppy until she's comfortable with your presence.]”


The guard took a moment to process the first half of that paragraph. It sounds like they made her slightly meeker.

“[Once she's comfortable and opens up to a person, she becomes rather affectionate. Included but not limited to, cuddling, hugging, nuzzling, simulated napping and taking care of the general needs of said individual. Off the record, she has skillful hands and can work muscles as impeccably as she can the strings of her guitar.]”


The guard’s eyes could not help but widen at those little details.


“[Bonnie is the second model of the Fazettes. She sees Frieda Fazbear as a mother figure, and Chica Chicken as well as Foxy the Pirate as sisters. Do not, under any circumstances, hurt Bonnie in any way. Physical or emotional trauma will provoke a very angry response from the Fazbear Bunch, leading up to and including potential, terminal, physical disabilities.]”

  That last part was enough to grow a lump in his throat and a gut-wrenching feeling of fear. Tossing the file back on the desk, he once again arose from his chair and took a deep breath, Taking his hat off to brush his hair back.
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  'Okay...Okay,’ he began to process himself, ‘so there's a way to handle one, albeit possibly having to walk on the most brittle of eggshells.' The guard thought to himself, resting his hands behind his head for a second to finally swallow the lump in his throat.

  'T-This shouldn't be so bad. Yeah, just need to approach this with caution' the man thought to himself, before straightening himself out. ‘He claims they were completely overhauled, this dossier could be some proof of that, but still-’ The mind of the guard trailed off as He turned to the left, reaching over to raise the door shutter. He was greeted by none other than Bonnie’s face staring directly at him, with a look of sheer childlike innocence and inquiry. Even with all the courage displayed during the war, it was not enough to suppress the surprise and fear that overcame him at that moment. A sudden and very unpleasant memory overcame the man as Bonnie’s face flashed to its older self, screaming at him with its uncanny face.

“JIMINYCHRISTCRACKERSAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-”

They cried out in unison. The guard kicked the door button-down & fell back into his chair. The reaction seemed to startle her, and with a high-pitched noise she darted off. The night guard was panting from the sudden panic.

"Goddamn it...ugh..." said the guard to himself, trying to calm his heart down. He turned back to the terminal, bringing back up the feed to see where the runaway rabbit had gone too. He checked the hall feed to see the supply room door close. Switching to it immediately, he saw the rabbot twiddling her fingers whilst sounding rather nervous. What got to him more though, was when he heard her whisper.


“ohgeezohgoodnessohmygoodnessgraciouysoh gosh...he's so cute~"


"What the hell...?" he said to himself, leaning back in the chair, re-adorning his hat that fell on the floor. He soon realized that Bonnie ran off, which was new. The look she had on her face, it didn’t appear hostile. But perhaps curiosity and intrigue? The watchman couldn’t tell, it was pretty quick. Still, He did not like the sudden intrusion of his personal space, even if her intentions weren’t murderous. He finally managed to calm down a bit, sighing out of relief.

A sudden melody filled the air, a chime that the watchman was all too familiar with.


[6 AM.]

‘Annnnnnd I’m Done’ he thought to himself, rising forth from the office and power walking his way out of the establishment. He didn’t want to possibly startle the rabbit again so he just made his way to the exit when suddenly the doors open, the rays of the early morning glow filled the room. The guard winced a bit from the brightness but managed to focus and get a better look at the person. They were a bit younger looking in general but made up for it with their height. Dressed plainly in blue jeans, a plain t-shirt, and flannel button-up jacket, his hair is short, blonde, and cut cleanly, and was in their early twenties. The young man cracked a grin, reaching out to shake the guard's hand.

“Glad we can finally meet in person, Mr. Schmidt.” He said in a warm and pleasant voice, “Ah, of course!” Schwartz explained, looking over the guard’s shoulder, “There’s our Lil carrot!” he said in an endearing tone as Mr. Schmidt gazed over his shoulder, wide-eyed to see the purple hare standing halfway between the hallway and main lobby, in a shy and timid display.


“H-Hi” Bonnie spoke softly, “i-it’s nice to meet you, sir,” she said to the guard.