He found himself standing at the end of a dark corridor, there was dead silence as he could only hear his own heart beating. At the other end of the hallway was a large grey door. The man began walking towards the door but it never got any closer.
Then a faint whimper came to his ears, coming from the left, it was a child crying. He ignored it and kept walking to the door but the whimpers of the child never stopped, it grew louder until it turned into a wail.
He covered his ears and screamed for it to stop, "STOP IT!" He broke down on his knees and cried, "Please stop." He bowed his head, placing it between his knees as he cowered in fear as he pulled on the strands of his hair.
The loud wail stopped and the silence returned, the man rose up, eyes bloodshot with tears and hair messed up.
"Help us." A child cried next to his ear, making him jump. He was petrified, he couldn't dare to look back. The man covered his eyes and the thought of it might be just standing mere inches from his face was horrifying. Then a hand gently hovered on his back and it made him feel more scared, he began to tremble.
"Stop." He pled, but it never did as more hands touched his back and in the back of his mind he counted the hands that were on him: five small hands.
"Help." They said in a cold and flat tone. His mind battled if he should or should not, but he felt the sudden urge to turn around, and eventually he did. He prepared himself of what ghastly image he might see once he opened his eyes. But to his surprise, the darkness of the hallway went away and he was now inside a room that was all too familiar...
The office.
He couldn't believe his eyes, it wasn't the way he expected it to be, it should've been badly burned. The shattered glass window was back in one piece, the desk fan and the files were not reduced to ashes and it was the way he left them before setting the place on fire.
"No." He gasped, noticing that he was back in his old night guard uniform and he was unable to move from his post. It was only his eyes that could move about the place.
Faint sounds of metal clanging came from outside the office accompanied by the sound of water dripping, getting closer by the second. The man's head throbbed, he was unable to move, unable to escape of what's coming for him. He closed his eyes again as the sounds became louder.
It resembled the sound of footsteps.
But everything fell silent until the man could only hear the desk fan interrupting the dead of night. The man slowly and nervously inched his eyes open and realized that he wasn't alone anymore.
Standing in front of him were five figures: At the center was a large bear wearing a back top hat, its body was severely damaged, missing an ear and an eye with wires were sticking out of its missing socket. It was badly burned that only a few parts of its body were in its original brown, Freddy Fazbear.
Beside Freddy was a horrifying Chica. The rips on her face exposed the silvery metal endoskeleton inside, its beak wide open showing the inner row of teeth within.
To his left was the all too familiar purple rabbit missing its face plate leaving only its lower jaw with a row of teeth on it with its inner eyes glowed red. Bonnie.
A rusting animatronic was standing beside them with a hook for a hand and a peg leg, its triangular jaw dangled open showing a grisly row of teeth, Foxy.
Along with them was a different variant of Freddy Fazbear, a yellowed version: black pupil-less eyes with its head tilted to one side.
They surrounded him, watching him struggle from his post. All of them were aged and severely destroyed, either burned or missing various parts. The man screamed for help but he knew no one could hear him. The five animatronics leaned towards the man's face. He was hysterical, on the brink of losing it.
Then the nightmarish things stopped halfway into leaning. The figures began to seep blood from the rips on their skin, dripping down their charred remains.
"Help us." The man heard child voices from the figures, "Please."
He tried his best to avoid their horrific stare by turning his head to one side, but they kept repeating.
Help us... Help us... Help us.
The chanting stopped, the man looked back and the five animatronics slowly moved aside to reveal a sixth one behind them. The darkness concealed its full form; the man could only make out a shape of a tall figure.
Then the alarm blared, illuminating the room in red and fully revealing his worst nightmare: rabbit ears, glowing evil eyes, menacing grin and rusting limbs that were mostly darkened by the ashes. Blood dripped from inside the figure as if it was fresh. It was twitching, every joint of its body jolted and every jolt spouted blood. It was just standing a few feet away from where the man was sitting.
"It's me." The sixth animatronic spoke in a bone-chilling sinister voice, taking a step closer to him and leaning forwards showing its entire terrifying form. The man was now a few inches away from the face of the rotting animatronic.
He couldn't move, as if he was tied down on his chair, unable to scream, unable to look away and unable to stop the inevitable. Springtrap leaned in closer, he was looking into those white glowing eyes that had terrorized him ever since.
The rabbit began twitching violently; it slowly opened its mouth at him, dripping large amounts of thick dark blood from it.
"PLEASE!" He couldn't even close his eyes. Then it lunged at him, opening its jaw.
"NO!" The man struggled as a pair of hands held his shoulder and tightened its grip. He tried shaking it off but it was no use, "LET GO OF ME!"
"Wake up!" A female voice yelled. His eyes shot open and all he saw was white walls with a window to his left giving him a view of the dark skies. Small droplets of rain fell against the glass along with a flash of lightning.
He was inside a small room and to his relief, it wasn't the office anymore. He was lying on a soft bed and facing up the ceiling. He looked at his clothes and noticed that he was wearing an all white hospital gown. To his right was a long metal pole that had an IV bag up top connected to a long rubber tube attached to his arm.
On his left wrist was a blue thin plastic tag that bore his full name:
Frederich Nicholas Fisher
Cawthon Medical Hospital
At the far end of his room was the nurse, dressed in her all-white uniform clutching a clipboard. She had her brunette hair tied and fixed into her small nurse hat, most likely in her late twenties.
"Are you alright, Mr. Fisher?" The nurse moved next to his bed.
He rose up from his bed and sat up, feeling his body sore, "I'm fine, I just had a horrible nightmare." The horrible images of the animatronics returned to his head.
"You were screaming for a couple of minutes." She said, "—I had to rush to your aid."
"It's nothing, thank you." He forced a weak smile, trying to brush it off, "Wha-what happened?"
The nurse handed him a small mirror so he could look at his face. A pair of brown eyes stared back at him, face bruised and wounded with dried blood on the cuts, he looked worse than he could imagine.
He lifted up the bed sheet that was draped over him, his left leg was in a cast and so was his right arm. There were burns on his other leg and the skin was darkened.
"You're kinda shaken by what happened a few days ago." The nurse said, "You were lucky that you survived that fire."
"What caused the fire?" He asked, pretending to know nothing.
"Police said it was faulty wiring that caused it, probably because the place was old." She recalled. "—and they found you lying near the exit."
Then he remembered that he was near the door when he was attacked. That image of a dead man inside the costume haunted him, he hoped that everything was reduced to nothing but ashes.
"Mr. Fisher? Is something wrong again?" The nurse asked, "You look pale."
He was pulled back from his trance, "Uh, it's nothing and please, call me Nick." He smirked.
"Alright, Nick. You should get some shuteye." The nurse smiled.
"I will." He waved goodbye.
The nurse walked out the door after turning off the lights. Everything in his room was engulfed in darkness, only the light outside dimly lit the place. Nick lay back on his bed and stared up, relieved that the ordeal is over and that everything is back to normal.
Beside him was a roll of newspaper and on its front page was an image of a Freddy Fazbear toy. He picked it up and read the article:
IT BURNS!
Fazbear's Fright
burns to the ground!
A new local attraction based
on an ancient pizzeria
burned down overnight.
Authorities have not yet ruled
out foul play, but at the
moment is seems to have been
caused by faulty wiring.
Very little was found at the
scene. The few items that
were salvaged will be sold
at public auctions.
He sighed in relief, the job is done. A smile formed across his face.
Then a thunderclap occurred along with a flash of lightning. In that split second of light, Nick saw the picture of the article clearly and it made him jump.
In the background of the small Freddy toy picture was a heavily burned and mangled face of Springtrap, smiling into the camera with its glowing eyes. He trembled.
It's impossible.
He threw away the newspaper and stared outside the window, trying to shake off the possibility of the monster surviving. He looked down at the wet empty road down below: it was poorly lit by the lamps outside as he could only see their reflections on the cars.
Everything fell silent as he could only hear the dripping of his dextrose and the clock ticking. He glanced at the clock to check the time:
12:00AM
Those horrible nights came back to his mind, he was haunted by them. Nick's heart rate monitor started beating fast. His eyes returned to the road outside as another thunderclap illuminated the ground below and it made his heart leap to his throat.
Standing outside was the dreaded thing that he feared the most, twitching as it stared back at him with its evil eyes. The mangled skin, rusting endoskeleton and a terrifying grin.
It's alive. It followed him.