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Prologue: Last Night

  Silence, pure absolute silence invades the dining area. From its yellow, cheerful walls bounces off nothing at all, no music, no children laughing, no parents talking to each other, no pizza orders, and no show. Just pure, sepulchral silence. But after all, nights are not calm at all. What seems to be a happy and colorful place during the day, becomes an almost morgue-like area during the night, and with full reason, as every part of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, its posters, its games, each room, each hallway, and every cutout teasing the appearance of what one thinks are plain animatronic mascots, have a secret that they refuse to tell, but not by choice. The drawings on a wall next to the colorful blue entrance archway, the only things that can tell a story and make it somehow vivid, warn of what the present has turned out to be, but nothing ever refers to the past, why would they have to? But what the present doesn’t want to tell through those images, is told by one single image in the center of all, a yellow rabbit holding hands with 5 children. There is a lot that can be learned from the past, and that drawing, along with the 4 fuzzy man-made animals that remain still on their stages, can agree with that. But are those friendly critters what they really seem to be?

  Through the dark employee halls, dimly lit by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling, a struggle can be heard, coming from a room to which both hallways lead up to. The door on the right side is banging out loud, as a boy comes out of it, sweating bullets and with teary eyes. He pushes himself against the door with all his force, as growling persists from the other side. Right as life flashes before the boy’s eyes, the growling and the struggle finally cease. He takes his chance to take a breath, taking his hand up to his chest, as if his heart was beating over there when, he can feel it right inside his head. His uniform, purple colored, was messy.

  A badge on his chest, signaled his name, John, and his droopy tie, signaled a fierce battle was fought, along with a fully open gash on his forearm. Blood was smearing what remained of his uniform’s sleeve, while the inside flesh of his arm could be noticed barely. John unmade his tie and began to tie up his forearm, with the hopes it would be enough to momentarily stop some blood, but it was not enough to calm the pain. He rushed to the double door in front of him, struggling to open it at first only to realize the need to unlock it. How ironic, he once locked it up to stop what was coming after him, just to then needing to unlock it to escape. But while he reached for the keys, he heard a door creak wide open at the other end of the hallway. The sepulchral silence was now broken, not only by the loud thump and clicking of whatever creature of the night was reaching for John, but by a heavy ambiance that slowly introduced dread into the air. John saw a big figure, a silhouette of what seemed to be a bipedal creature, with three flaps on top of his head, and a hand that was lifted and held close to what seemed to be its chest. John rushed through the keys, none of them working except for the last one. Once he began going through the doors, loud thumping a long with clicking was heard, but it became faster, quicker, more aggressive, charging towards him without any intention to stop.

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  He barely got through the doors, blocking them with a nearby chair as quickly as he could. He then took the flashlight out of his pocket, lighting up some of the supply hallway. He kept going on, the beam of light trembling under his hand as he lighted the garage door, and then took a turn to his left, to find the door at the end. He went through it, only to be met with the bathroom hall, and in front of him, the door leading to the kitchen. He turned on his flashlight, as the dim light of the barely rising sun shone a beam, almost signaling John his exit, one he did not lose of course. He peeked out of the entrance to the bathroom hall, checking both sides, before heading to his right, walking through the blue archway, making his escape at once. But what he did not count with, is that a certain someone was now looking for round two. A humming was heard from behind as he approached the doors to the outside.

  He only ran to them, past the counter and the open door to the employees break room. When he tried to reach for the keys to his escape, he met nothing on his belt. He looked back and saw them on the floor, running up to them only to face the silhouette of a foxlike creature. Its extremities clicking and slightly shaking as it lifts its right arm, shining over John the figure of a large sharp hook instead of a hand. “Someone, help please! Somebody, help!” shouted the poor boy as he banged against the door. As the figure got closer and closer, its steps fell against the checkered path on the floor as hard as a rock, for its metal feet gave steps in an almost calculative manner. And just as it got over John, the only thing he could do was to wait for his fate. Then, silence returned, now accompanied with the bright shine of the sun as the far away chiming of a bell, signals the time. 6:00AM.

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