In The Shadows

Everything was quiet for once. Jeremy sighed and adjusted his too-tight tie. None of the old animatronics had left the back room, none of the new ones had left the stage, Mangle was scattered around 3 rooms, and Balloon Boy was busy riding the carousel. Jeremy hadn’t even needed to wind the music box all night, not after stacking so much garbage from the Prize Corner atop it that the Puppet was good and stuck.

The siren call of Jeremy's Walkman was incredibly tempting, especially after two-and-a-half hours of nothing happening. Jeremy ignored it steadfastly, though. He was nothing if not professional, and with how strange the animatronics had been acting all week he didn't want to leave himself open to surprises.

For all he knew, they might go crazy and attack him.

Jeremy shook his head. He knew watching that old horror movie about killer robots before work was a bad idea. At the time he could only laugh at it due to the bad special effects -- it was decades old, after all -- and even worse acting. Four hours separated from it and all alone in a very dark and very creepy building, though, and that cheesy movie was suddenly very scary.

Of course, Jeremy's growing headache wasn't helping matters. The guard reached for his cold thermos. At first to take a long drink to rehydrate; then to press against his temple. The cool metal helped the pounding abate, but before Jeremy could even put the thermos back onto the table it was back.

With a growl Jeremy got up to pace, all at once too full of energy. He felt antsy. Anxious. Apprehensive. All in all this was the least eventful night shift so far, and yet it was somehow turning into the most stressful.

Distantly, the echoes of Balloon Boy's laughter atop his merry-go-round grew quiet.

Jeremy continued his attempts to tread a rut into the tiled floor. The steady beating in his skull refused to go away, and with every throb his mood worsened. He was never a night person, Jeremy knew. It was a struggle to go to sleep in the morning and wake up every afternoon. Why had he even applied for this position?

And why hadn't the animatronics begun to move around yet? Jeremy strode back to his desk and flicked through the cameras, more to distract himself than to actually see what had changed. Nothing different in the back and no changes on the stage. Mangle had made meager efforts to get back together but seemed to have given up.

Balloon Boy appeared to be asleep, collapsed next to one of the carousel's horses. Probably tuckered himself out, Jeremy thought idly. Could robots even get tired? Were his batteries just out of juice? Was that why he stole Jeremy's batteries the other night? A sharp throb silenced Jeremy's introspection. He hissed and pressed a palm to his forehead.

He felt clammy. Great, just what he needed. Being sick was the only thing he was missing in life. Even his dark skin had paled a few shades.

The rustle of paper at the entrance to his workspace -- Jeremy refused to call it an office, drivel about the new minimalist wave meaning he didn't need a door or weak excuses that the junk piled in the corners didn't make it a storage area for an overflowing backroom failed to convince him otherwise -- drew his line of sight up. One of the arts-and-crafts projects had made its way onto the wall. Jeremy found it hard to even care, regardless of the mystery of how it got there.

Another peek at the cameras revealed nothing but static. The harsh white noise grated on Jeremy's nerves, especially when it continued even though the tablet was off. Jeremy looked back up. The old junk televisions were all turned on, static playing on each and every one of them.

Now Jeremy was starting to feel worried.

His breathing beginning to sound muffled to his own ears, Jeremy stood up and cautiously approached the hallway, flashlight in hand. One eye stayed on the hall as he shot a quick glance at either vent only to find them empty. The televisions turned off when he reached them, and Jeremy stood at the edge of the entrance to his workspace. The shadows seemed so thick as to be almost physical, clinging to the walls. They even fought against Jeremy's flashlight, as though straining to keep the light from penetrating the darkness.

A giant golden head stared back at Jeremy.

Jeremy yelped and dropped his flashlight. It turned off upon hitting the ground, and the surge of darkness left Jeremy blind as he frantically searched for it. The darkness of the restaurant seemed to almost caress him, sending a shiver up his spine and causing goosebumps to raise on his flesh.

Where was the flashlight? Jeremy's panic grew worse. Although he had dropped it at his feet, it was no longer there. The only option was that it had rolled further into the hallway, further towards that thing which had been watching him. Jeremy steeled his nerves and dove forwards. His fingers brushed the flashlight.

The yell of triumph seemed to banish the shadows nearly as well as the light did. Jeremy clicked on his flashlight the moment he had grasped it and aimed it down the hall. The golden head was gone. Jeremy sighed, the relief palpable. A coil of tension in the pit of his stomach relaxed. Even his headache felt like it was going away.

Jeremy was already seated in his chair once more before he even bothered to think about what he had seen. "I guess I was just seeing things," he muttered to himself. "I'm probably not sleeping enough, or I'm sicker than I thought."

"Not quite," a voice whispered next to him, sounding amused.

Jeremy yelped and jumped out of his chair. The instinctual response was to draw his arm back and throw his flashlight at the voice, and that was exactly what the guard did. It sailed through the air, and then through its intended target.

A bear, only the barest hints of purple visible within the darkness of its appearance, sat in the corner of the room. It was so dark, in fact, that it resembled a moonless night sky. Its eyes glinted like stars and when it opened its mouth in a grin its teeth shone as well.

"Believe me, Jeremy, this is all real," the bear continued.

Jeremy's response was to scream again and throw something else.

"W-Who are you? What are you doing here?" Jeremy stuttered, his thermos now dented and rolling on the floor.

"Me? Well, I ain't anyone of importance." The vaguest hints of a southern drawl made themselves apparent. "As for what I'm doing here, well..." The bear reached up and adjusted his hat. "You've been a bit insubordinate, Mr. Fitzgerald."

At Jeremy's confused, and panicked, expression the bear chuckled. "What are you talking about? When did you even get here?"

The bear stood up and adjusted his bow tie. "Allow me to answer your questions in order. I'm referring to our mutual... acquaintance at the Prize Corner. They're rather cross at you and wouldn't leave us alone until someone did something. Now, regarding when I got here." The bear shot forward far faster than its size would suggest and clapped a massive hand on Jeremy's shoulder. The guard's knees buckled. "I've been here a lot longer than you have, boy."

Jeremy fell back in his chair. His eyes were wide, his breath came in sharp gasps. Something was wrong. Jeremy's chest tightened.

"WAKE UP."

"What?" Jeremy asked.

The bear ignored him in favor of adjusting his bowtie. "You'd better hope we don't see each other again, young man. Things won't end well if we do. There'll be no more of this foolishness. Now, WAKE UP."

Jeremy's head shot off of his desk. He looked around, disoriented. The hum of the light hanging from the ceiling very nearly lulled Jeremy back to sleep, but he fought against it and straightened up.

Still confused and running on autopilot, Jeremy picked up his security tablet. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the Puppet's music box being nearly unwound.

"That was a close one," he said after cranking it back up. Still feeling sluggish, Jeremy entertained thoughts of covering the music box up so that he wouldn't have to wind it all the time. An unpleasant sensation ran down his spine at the idea, which he quickly abandoned as a consequence.

Jeremy flipped through the cameras. All of the animatronics were in their usual spots, likely having moved back during his accidental nap. There were only a few minutes left until his shift was over, after all. Mangle was looking surprisingly put together for once in the Kid's Cove, and Balloon Boy was up and about riding the carousel. Jeremy grabbed his flashlight and tried to shin it down the hall. The light failed to come on. Little rascal must've gotten the batteries out while Jeremy was sleeping.

The end of the shift passed uneventfully, and Jeremy popped in his Walkman to blast some Public Enemy. It took a short search to find his thermos, which had been lying in the corner of Jeremy's workspace for some reason. Maybe he knocked it off in his sleep. When he grabbed it he noticed it looked a bit more beat up than he remembered, but Jeremy shrugged his shoulders.

He was sure it was nothing important.