FNAFTM: The Book

Prologue

[ > This story is based around the FNAF Musical created by Random Encounters. I recommend you check it out, if you haven't already seen it. Now, remember that this is an alternate universe. Many things would not happen in our real world, so please keep that in mind! Without further ado, I present, FNAF: The Musical: The Book < ]

The all-too-familiar sound of three consecutive beeps played softly for what felt like the one thousandth time that day. Mark set his phone down on the coffee table, letting out a soft sigh as he dropped his face into his hands. Another failed attempt at finding a stable job.

He had multiple newspapers splayed out over his desk for him to search. His computer stood before him, with a list of websites of establishments looking for employees. Not a single one had worked for him so far. They did not interest him, despite how deep he delved into searching. His eyes flicked toward the corner of his computer screen to see the time. 7:03 P.M.. It had been three hours since he started.

"One more newspaper. One more." He reached for the first newspaper on the stack that sat on the floor beside his feet, having not scanned any of them yet. Skimming the thin paper, he glanced through small articles, searching for anything that stood out to him.

Nothing caught his eye until he pulled it open with a soft crinkle, that is when his eyes were drawn to a small ad squeezed into the center of the page. Small lettering beside a black and white picture of an animatronic bear read that Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was in need of a night guard who worked from 12 A.M. to 6 A.M. and watched the animatronics.

Despite his fear of mannequins and the like, he found himself reaching for his phone. Without having any reasoning for it, he had a strong urge to get this job. It felt like he was meant to take it. He quickly dialed the seemingly impossible number displayed on the paper. 1-800-FAZ-FAZBEAR. Surprisingly, it began to ring. He held it to his ear, tapping his foot rapidly as he awaited a voice.

"Uh... Hello? Hello, hello?"

Mark jumped slightly, as it was louder than he expected, "Er... Hi." He rested his chin on his hand.

"This is Fazbear Entertainment, what can we help you with?" The voice was odd, and there was no easy way to describe it. It was almost cheerful, yet monotonous. Like whoever was speaking was reading from a script word-for-word in a mock happy tone.

"I'm calling to apply for the night guard shift. I... uh... I saw it in the paper."

"Ah, yes, of course! Y'know, you're the first caller we've had since that ad was published! Funny, huh?" This was said without the slightest indication of humor, it was simply stated as a fact. Despite this, Mark forced out a laugh. Forced indeed, as it sounded so unreal that it made him uncomfortable.

The person on the other end either somehow did not notice the obviously artificial reaction, or perhaps he simply chose not to acknowledge it. "Well, anyway, we can talk more in person! Give me your number and we'll text you the address of where to meet. When your here, we can even give you the Grand Tour! Won't that be great?"

"Oh, yeah. Awesome." Mark put emphasis on the word "awesome", trying to show enthusiasm. He proceeded to relay his phone number multiple times so the man on the other end could write it down.

"Alright, good, good!" The man said once he had gotten it down. Then, just to be sure, he quickly read out the number back to Mark, confirming that it was correct.

"Yup. Yup, that's it."

"Great!" Still no real-sounding enthusiasm in his voice, "So, does Saturday at noon work for you? We can provide you with lunch and everything!"

"Sounds perfect."

"Alright! Well, see you then. Er, what'd you say your name was?"

"Oh, right, I didn't." Mark chuckled at himself for the stupid mistake, a warm, deep chuckle that was genuine, "Mark. Mark Fishbach."