Chica And The Nightguard Poker Face

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The Night Season: Night 0

Five Nights At Freddy's

Created on 11/24/14

Written by Izzy Vasquez

Night 0

A young man was sitting on a tattered wooden chair that would have put any antique to shame. He had dark brown locks of hair that fell into his blue eyes whenever he looked down, and currently he was staring at a rumpled heap of newspapers on the similarly broken table. A red pen was currently in his hand and ready to flash out any moment. Michael Schmidt was the man's name. Mike Schmidt who was struggling to pay the rent and eager to take any job that appeared. He applied for a great amount of interviews, but with no avail. They either flat out rejected his desperate plea or said, 'We aren't looking for someone with your abilities.' Curse his art major.

Still scanning the papers, an advertisement with a bear in a top hat stood out to him. Reading the caption on the side, Mike scrambled a circle furiously around it. They were looking for a night guard. The pay, however, was a minuscule 120$ after five days. He shrugged.

Whatever'll get the landlord off my ass for a while.

Quickly changing into a clean pair of jeans and semi-formal tee shirt, the man leaped into his piece of crap car. The stupid thing wouldn't turn on even after a couple turns of the key. Mike sighed as the vehicle sputtered to life, and set off towards Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

The town he lived in was quite and serene most of the time, the occasional crime. The only extremely big thing was when these five children went missing. He never really looked in to things like that, though. Within about ten minutes or so time, Michael pulled up in the Freddy Fazbear's parking lot. The ad was flashing around a red ring as he brought it out, he didn't want them to think that he was some weirdo randomly popping in a kids place.

Stepping out of his rusted red car, he stepped in the pizzeria. It smelled of grease and sweat, and kids looked like they were practically on weed. People shouted, cursed, and sprinted. Mike noticed with further observation that the place had seen better days. Very better days. Posters peeled, cushions and walls and carpets were stained, and the animatronics stood creepily on stage. The purple curtains were pulled back to reveal Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy Fazbear himself. Bonnie's robotic limbs moved over his guitar and one hand waved at the audience. Kids squealed all over, practically in a heap of bodies by the stage.

Tearing his gaze away from the animatronics piercing eyes, he sought for an employee to confide him in the whereabouts of the owner. Mike met a short, wispy haired man in an employee outfit.

'Excuse me,' Mike called out, 'do you know where the owner is?'

The unknown man turned around and Mike clenched the advertisement in one hand. 'That, would be me.'

Walking over and handing out the newspaper he stuttered, 'I-I'm looking for t-the job as a night g-guard'

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'Wonderful! You're hired!' The man exclaimed.

Mike looked at him, surprise etched in his face. 'Just like that? No interviews, background checks, anything?'

Chica And The Night Guard Poker Face

'Yep,' the man nodded, 'the name's Frederick Fazbär, by the way.'

Mike nodded bluntly and Frederick stared, 'Come on. Let's get you a uniform, and I can give you the basics.'

The blue eyed 25 year old followed Mr. Fazbär out of the front room. They passed the party room, Pirate's Cove, and into a small office.

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'This is where you'll be working!' Frederick said cheerily, grinning.

The place was a dump, to say it nicely. Crudely drawn pictures littered the walls along with papers strewn across the desk messily. A lonely chair sat in the corner, wasted.

Noticing a tablet on the desk, Mike asked, 'What's that?'

'That's the cameras!' Mr. Fazbär was still beaming, 'You can just turn it on, and, there. View all over the restaurant!' He demonstrated how to turn it on and the different cameras used.

Chica And The Night Guard Poker Face

Mr. Fazbär then turned towards the entryway. 'These ate the doors,' said the senior, clicking a red button, 'and the lights.' Clicking a white button.

'Simple enough,' Mike shrugged indifferently.

Chica and the night guard poker face

'Good! Here's your attire!' A heap of clothes were presented before his slender hands. The shirt and cap were a dark blue, with the words 'NIGHTGUARD' strewn across it in white letters.

'Wear that with some jeans or khakis,' his new boss gestured towards his pants. 'Your shift starts at twelve o'clock and ends at six. You can stay here an have some free pizza if you want, though.'

Mike looked up from the outfit and smiled at the elderly man. 'Thank you. May I have just a few slices?'

Chica And The Night Guard Poker Face

Mr. Fazbär replied, 'Of course!' Then scurried off to who knows where.

Mike pulled up the torn office chair and sat down. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and exhaled through his mouth with an 'o' shape. It couldn't be that bad, sitting on his butt the whole night and staring at some cameras. Right? He left his wild thoughts away and came into the main room again. Children were still plentiful, and he saw his new boss place down a plate with pizza on a small table and looked at Mike before going towards the office.

Settling down in the strangely plush chair, the brunette thoughtfully chewed in his pizza, which was surprisingly not bad. Their were three of the ridiculously cheesy heart attack bombs on his plate. Mike looked down, exasperated, he was afraid that taking one tiny slice would mean death, and here were kids chowing down on 'em like no tomorrow. Rolling his cerulean eyes, the newly hired night guard sneakily threw away the two other pizza slices and headed out the door.

Mike's keys jingled as he strode towards his sad, beat up car. The thing took three minutes to roar to life. More than last time. Driving back, he looked at his phone during a stop light. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help hisself. The time was twelve o'three, and he'd most likely make it home in seven minutes. A cars honking behind him took Mike out of his trance and he heard the female driver scream, 'Move, you motherfucker!'

He grimaced and flicked the woman off through the now open window. She looked shocked and her mouth was pulled into a tight poker face. Going ahead of the 35 speed limit by 10 mph, Mike soon made it home to his horrible apartment. He fumbled with the key in the lock and burst into his home.

Chica And The Night Guard Poker Faces

When does the shift start, twelve? He thought, and sauntered off to get the well needed and deserved sleep.