The Exalted Guard (FNAF X Exalted)

LinkOnScepter · Nov 23, 2018

So, this is a fanfiction I wrote that I am not completely proud of. I made this back when I was in my "edgy, teenage angst" phase. During this time, I thought that anything that had death, blood, and cursing in it was "adult, realistic, dark, and deep" and equated those things with good. I wrote a few stories filled with inconsistencies, Mary Sues/Gary Stues, and just filled with general terribleness.

During this time, I was on the FNAF bandwagon. The second game had been out for a bit, and I was really into fanfiction. So I started looking for some. But, I was a very picky little shit. I wanted to read a story where the Nightguards destroyed/beat up/fought the animatronics. Whether through clever planning, ingenuity, or just plain old grit, I looked for a story where the underdog humans triumphed over the machines.

What I found were stories where they befriended them, let them be, or.....did other things.

Back then, this didn't sit right with me. So I decided to take matters into my own hands. Not long after that while getting into Tabletop RPGs, I discovered Exalted, and this was conceived. A story where Mike Schmidt becomes a Solar Exalted and goes off to fight the Animatronics.

I've mellowed out (thank my brothers and other fanfic writers for giving me a kick in the pants) and improved (at least I like to think I have) since then. One day, I decided to go back over my older works for whatever reason. Maybe to look my at mistakes and think about how I can make sure I don't repeat them, or just to laugh at how bad I was. But then I came across this. I read through it and, for whatever reason, thought I actually had something. So, I decided to come back to it and write some more. Figured, what better place to get some feedback on this then SV?

So, here it is.

This first post is actually three chapters smashed together as I didn't want to post a fanfic up on SV with only 1K words. I feel like that could work for a Quest, but not a fanfic like this.

The first 8 (I know, I can't believe it either) of these will include my own thoughts on what I did right and wrong in each chapter. Feel free to add in your own critiques if you so wish. Most of them will be copy/paste from when I first wrote them with a few changes to make them more bearable when I think it is needed. Expect horribleness for a while.

And that's about everything I feel I need to say. If you have any questions or critiques, feel free to leave them in a post.

TL;DR: This is a story from my "edgy teen" phase that I felt like coming back to with my improved writing skills. First few chapters will be copy/paste filled with bad writing. Tear it apart as you will, as I will too.

Few other things to note: I am writing this from a bit of an AU. This was written before learning everything we know about the storyline now. Whatever your feelings on it are, there are things that have been established that I will be going against to an extent as the story continues.

First being a few changes to the animatronics. They are going to be more antagonistic than tragic characters here. They aren't just going to be mustache twirling villains, but they won't be completely sympathetic either. In other words, they'll be characters.

Second, Purple Guy is Vincent in this story. I know that this was revealed to be false later one, but once again this was written when only the first and second games were out. So, please bear with that.

"That's forty times now," the guard said as he struck his lighter again. A small flame was sparked in the dark shadows of the hallway. The red and black tiled floors felt cold underneath him, as he sat with his legs crossed indian style. He let the Zippo match lighter wink out.

Darkness.

He struck it.

Light was cast across the intersection, as the children's drawings on the left, right, and front walls were illuminated. The man was jerked forward a little, but not by much, as three hard bangs sounded from the door at his back.

A muffled voice shouted, "You can't do this man! Please! Just let me out!."

The man scooted back up against the door. At night, it never seemed to be locked, or even have a door handle. It was just a massive slab of metal that read 'Parts and Services'. "I'm sorry, but it's better me than you," the night watchman said as he squashed the flame again with his metal lighter top. His ragged, torn, white shirt with black tie seemed to be the only bright spot as his long, black pants, in the same condition as his shirt, perfectly merged with the darkness.

He struck the lighter.

Down the front hallway, he saw the faintest hint of movement. To some, a small brown blur would simply be considered a trick of the eyes. But, this night guard knew better, "Here they come. Yo, what's the time?"

Three more forceful raps, "Please, don't do this!" There was a hint of a sob coming from the slightly feminine voice behind the door.

The guard put the flame out, "What. Is. The. Time?"

There was a brief silence followed by a noise that sounded a bit like crying, "...5:45."

The man took a deep breath, and then let it out, "Then, I'll just have to keep em back for 20 minutes."

He struck the flame.

This time, there was no question. There was something standing in the front hallway. Something big, brown, and in need of some serious repairs. The man slowly turned his head and the flame to the left and right hallways. Down the left hallway was one long purple ear that drooped to the right side, with a long right arm that ended in wires, making it look akin to a claw. Down the right path wasn't much, just a white bib that seemed to be fused into a yellow body. It read 'Let's Eat!'

The man killed the flame, then stood up. His legs were sore from sitting in the same position, but they moved. His arms popped as he used them to push himself off the floor, but they were ready to be used when needed. His back hurt from keeping the door closed against the occupant's relentless assaults, but he would hold it shut for as long as was needed. He grabbed his trusty flashlight in his right hand, and took his left, which still held the lighter, and pulled his hat so that the flap faced the front. The cap was a symbol of his position at the restaurant. Along with the badge, it identified him as one of the night guards for the Pizzeria, under contract to protect it from any attempts at violating the law, in or around the establishment. Plus, it kept his rather unruly black, coarse, hair under control, and looked pretty sweet too.

He knew that his flashlight only had a limited amount of power left. He had been using it a lot since he got here. Having no doors to close really left him with little options in way of making sure his skin stayed out of one those suits. He figured he'd lucked out when he heard about that glitch in the machines, where light rapidly flashed at one would freeze a bot in place for a time. He quickly realized, that didn't mean that one flash was enough to stop them for any amount of time. He knew that he would probably only be able to freeze two of them before the third got him.

It was better than going out like a punk.

He lit the flame.

"Well, it's about time you three got here." Mike Schmidt, night guard for the Freddy Fazbear Pizzeria, stood facing the three animatronics that had been making his life a living hell for the past 2 months now.

The last time Mike had seen the robots(or "jerkass-bots" as he liked to call them) they didn't look all that impressive. There were wires that you could see from an entire hallway down sticking out of them, their bodies seemed to have something caked onto(and into) them(he didn't know what), and there were pizza stains here and there on their fur. But, compared to how they looked now, that was them in their Hey-Day.

Bonnie seemed to be the worst of the three. He body seemed to be constantly bending at an angle, giving the idea that he walked with a limp. His right arm was still intact, and functional Mike saw when Bonnie seemed to close his paw into a fist and then open it up again. In stark contrast, Bonnie's entire left arm was missing, which might explain why he was favoring his right side. Oh, he also didn't have a face. Yeah, no face, yet he was still moving like a fucking zombie. Mike thought it might have something to do with the glowing red eyes that constantly showed, but he doubt just those and a lower jaw could keep an entire robot body moving.

Chica was somewhere in the between normal and completely scrapped. The only real damage that could be seen was where her face and beak were. It looked as if someone had grabbed the top and bottom parts of her beak, and ripped them apart. Mike cursed a bit in his head, he had wanted to do that. Other than that, and the weird wires that run along her body making her look like a puppet, she hadn't changed a bit.

And then, there was Freddy. Mike didn't know where Foxy was, but he was pretty sure that Freddy cheated him out of some kind of deal. Where the older Bonnie, Chica, and the aforementioned fox all seemed like they just got pulled out of a dumpster, Freddy looked, at least half way decent. His body, arms, hands, feet, and even his head looked almost exactly same from the last time Mike saw him, and considering that Mike was from the future that's saying something. The only hint that he was in disrepair, was how his arms and legs seemed to be separated in certain places. It made the big bear look like he was cut to pieces by a blender, on high.

"So, which one of you will be the one to do me in, huh?" Mike looked each of the animatronics in the eyes, showing that he wasn't afraid. He didn't care if they stabbed him, ripped him apart, stuffed him in a suit, or whatever it was they did to the guards they had managed to catch. He was either gonna go down fighting, or take one of them down with him. Mike flicked his eyes between the big three, looking at them as well as trying to see behind them. He didn't know where Foxy or the Toy animatronics were, and that's what worried him. Unlike when he worked alone as a night guard, these animatronics were smart enough to go through the vents to get ya. He couldn't remember if there were any vents in the parts room, but if there were… Mike chose not to think about it.

Above all, his primary concern was the fucking Puppet. Since no one was in the office, the music box would just keep going until it wound down. Then, the box would open, and that demon would be let loose. Even when he looked at that overgrown doll during the day, it creeped him the fuck out. Mike had always had a sneaking suspicion(confirmed when he first took this god-forsaken job) about these furry-bots, but that-thing was something entirely different. He felt like it knew more than a simple AI should know, almost like it was sentient. That was a thought that really scared Mike.

He didn't see the Marionette fucker at all, but that may have been just because it was dark. Even so-

It was the sound that saved him more than anything else. The unmistakable whine of circuitry and gears working to bring something to bear. Mike had heard it every night he had spent at this hellhole. He was glad that he had committed the sound to memory, as he felt Bonnie's claw gives his left side burn a bit of a trim. His dodge was sloppy, hastily made, and left him wide open for much longer than he wanted. It wasn't a very graceful move, but it afforded him the opening he needed. Nearly falling to the floor from the effort put into the dodge, Mike pulled up the flashlight and flashed it across Bonnie's face.

That glitch in the system had saved both Mike and his co-worker from Foxy's jump attacks countless times, and it is what he used to his advantage now. The hallway was lit up for a couple of seconds as he moved the flashlight across Chica's face. He gave her two quick flashes, bringing himself upright as he did. His light cast across Freddy's frame, showing a massive brown fist coming right at the security guard.

Fist fighting had been apart of Mike's life for as long as he could remember. He had faced down school bullies, street toughs, and the occasional mugger in the dark alley way. He didn't win all of those fights, but he never let it be said he didn't give a good account of himself. For every bruise he left with, his opponents left with ten more. And, even though Mike knew his physical prowess could never match up with the unlimited power of the metal monster Freddy was, he sure as fuck was not going down without a fight.

The light on the Zippo was out, as Mike brought his left fist up in a hook to meet the big bear's right hook. Mike closed his eyes, waiting for the pain that would be his end.
The building was filled with the sound of metal being wrenched from its place. The scream of gears, circuits, and steel coming apart reminded Mike of the time he saw a Mustang crash into a thirteen wheeler. The wheeler hadn't seen the car coming, and slammed right into it's left side. The sports car was completely mangled, totaled beyond repair. Mike figured that was what his left arm looked like right about now.

What puzzled him was, he wasn't on the ground screaming in agony. In fact, he could still feel his left arm, and the cold metal of the lighter in the closed fist. Mike thought, 'Maybe the impact was so strong, I immediately, and am on the floor in a coma of sorts?' Yeah, that seemed like the most reasonable answer at the time.

Mike really wished that was the actual answer as he opened his eyes, and beheld something impossible. Not only was his left arm completely intact, and looked none the worse for ware from the attack. Not only was the place where Freddy's arm used to be reduced to a stump of broken wires, cut circuitry, and sparking electricity. Not only was he still standing, and not feeling any pain at all in any part of his body.

His left arm was glowing so bright that it was illuminating the entire hallway.

Mike could only say one thing in response, "THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?"

The Box was his home. The Box was where he slept. The Box was where all the little kids came to visit him for presents and prizes. The Box was the first thing he remembered seeing when he woke up.

The Box was boring.

He had never liked The Box, with it's red and white stripes on the outside, and cold darkness inside. He constantly hoped for a day when they would let him out of here. That way, he could be with all his friends during the day. He could play with all the kids who loved him, and maybe fix up Mangle. That would be so cool, if it was ever gonna happen.

When he was in there, he felt blind. He didn't know what his friends were doing, if they were making any progress, or if the Purple Man had been caught yet. The only thing that he was sure of, was the music. The same old song that constantly played over and over again. Night after night he was lulled to sleep by the incessant music. It annoyed him. It made him angry. He wanted it GONE.

However, this night was different. Normally, the infernal sound was constantly reset by whatever hapless human happened to be assigned the nightshift. But he could tell the music was winding down to it's final note, and nothing was stopping it. Either the fools had forgotten to wind it up, or they were caught by one of the others. Then again it didn't matter.

'You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, after all,' the Marionette thought to himself, as the music hit it's final note. If his mask wasn't already fixed into a permanent smile, he would be smiling now as he pushed the lid off of his cramped prison with gusto. He lifted himself out of the box, and rocketed down the halls.

'You're mine now, fools!' the Puppet shot through the halls like a laser guided missile, hell bent on reaching the office. He was out, at long last, and he wasn't going back in tonight. No, he was gonna make sure no one put him back in until the morning. Those guards have no idea…..where were the night guards?

This was the office where the guard was supposed to be posted right? The orange tiled floors and walls, the square vents on the left and right side of the room, the massive main door right in front of the desk, the metal desk, with swivel chair, cooling fan, tablet...yes, this was it. All Fazbear night guards were required to be posted here until 6:00 am. The Puppet looked at the clock, it was only about….5:46! He didn't have as much time as he thought!

He resolved to figure out why the guard wasn't in the office later, as he heard the distinctive 'click-click' of a flashlight being switched on and off. The Marionette slowly began to float his way down the dark hallways of the restaurant. No need to rush their demise after all, especially if the others had at least one of them cornered. The Puppet could certainly sympathize. There was something specifically weird about that second guard, Mike, he thought his name was. It's not every night that two employees are put together on the same work shift, at the same time, on the same nig-

The Marionette shooks it's head. There would be time to think about that later. He was coming up on the area he had heard the clicking sound come from. Keeping to the shadows, he crept his head around the wall…...and if he could drop his jaw, it would be banging on the floor right now.

To say Mike was shocked would be an understatement.

"What the hell…." he spoke out loud to no one in particular.

There was a rapid knock on the door, "Mike, what happened?"

"To be honest Jeremy, I have no clue." Mike knew he shouldn't just stand there like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, but what else could he do?! He had literally punched through solid metal and wires, without a scratch put on him. And that golden glow was more than a little disconcerting, even though it had gone away by now.

It took Mike a bit, but he suddenly realized that Freddy, Bonnie and Chica were still standing right in front of him. Looking up, he saw Freddy examining his arm, well, the mess of wires and broken metal that used to be his arm. Now, Mike knew that robots couldn't show any kind of emotion in their face except for the ones plastered on by whoever the heck made them. And he also knew that robots couldn't actually have any kind of feelings whatsoever. However, by looking at Freddy's face, he was pretty sure the old bear was having a couple of conflicting emotions.

Confusion, from the fact that Mike had just done what was universally considered impossible.

Surprise, from the fact that what Mike did had actually worked.

And anger, from the fact that he had just lost his right arm.

How did Mike know that, because that was exactly what he was feeling about himself right now. Except replace anger with a small sense of pride.

'How in The Virgin Mary's name did I do that?' Mike was not religious, he just needed a colorful curse. 'Seriously! There is no logical way I should've been able to do that, and that's coming from a time traveller! The only way for something like this to happen and make sense is…...that's it!'

While Mike was having his revelation, Freddy began showing the missing appendage to his partners. The chicken and bunny didn't really see the problem. Freddy was still functional, and as such their mission was the same: Kill the night guard. Bonnie did however raise his missing arm up to show the group, as if to say that he and Freddy were brothers now.
The three child entertainers turned their gaze back to Mike, who was having a massive giggle fit. Confused, but not the least bit intimidated, Bonnie lunged at Mike. Just as Bonnie's claw reached Mike's face, Mike grabbed it mid-air.

He lifted up Bonnie's arm, which lifted the animatronic with it. Once the robot was well above his head, Mike looked up at Bonnie, with a manic grin on his face. His eyes were narrow, and as he held up the bunny with his right hand, he looked down at the closed fist that was his left hand. The silver Zippo lighter was still intact, even after the impact from Freddy's fist. Mike balled up his left hand, and kissed the knuckles.

Bonnie only had one moment to process the information his system was currently receiving, when Mike's fist connected with his stomach. Then his face.

Bonnie shot across the hallway, only stopping when he collided with Freddy, who happened to be in the projectile rabbit's path. The only thing that stopped Freddy from falling over, was the fact the servos in his legs worked overtime to keep the bear standing.

Mike's crazy smile, wide enough to cover his entire face, was still on as he observed his handy work. "I get it now!" he yelled out, loud enough to echo across the dark building. "This is all just a dream! And if this is a dream, then I can do WHATEVER I WANT TO! And what I want to do right now, is rip and tear you animatronic bastards, until the only thing you'll be good for is the scrap heap!"

Unbeknownst to Mike, his eyes had taken on a golden glow, as his set them on his prey.

The new Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria had three party rooms. They were all just about identical. Same number of tables, same polka dotted table coverings, same plain grey walls. All three had balloons and streamers covering the floors and ceilings from previous occupants. Each one had been used in its own time for a party or special occasion at one point. Despite this, each one had retained its plain old, boring aesthetics.

Mike chokeslamming Freddy through the other side of the wall added a bit of flavor to the whole room.

Mike, golden aura shimmering around him, picked Freddy up by his neck. The bear tried to crush Mike's arm with his remaining hand, but his mechanical might seemed to do nothing except wrinkle Mike's sleeve. Mike brought his right hand up, fingers closed in a tight fist. He gave Freddy a hard right hook, making sure to let him go at the moment his fist made contact with Fazbear's jaw. The singer flew across the room, all the way to the stage where the Toy animatronics would be. Freddy landed on the wooden stage, a resounding CRASH following in his wake.

"That was for all the guards you things have killed up to this point, you bastard!" Mike walked through the hole in the wall, thinking nothing of how he just smashed through a wall, and started up to the downed bear. Just as Mike made it to the center of the room, the sound of metal hitting floor tiles met his ears. He spun on his heels, catching Foxy off guard and by the scruff of what little fur the pirate had left. Using Foxy's own momentum he slammed the fox on to the floor of the restaurant. Mike raised his foot up, and then jumped back towards the tables. Something had told him to move, and he was glad he had.

The Mangle. Originally it was supposed to be the Toy replacement for Foxy, proven by its fox head, and hook for a claw. However, once the kids got a hold of it, they started taking it apart again and again. Now, it's just an mixed match tangle of wires with a second head always hovering close by it's main one. Mike looked at the monstrosity, as it seemed to hang over Foxy, protecting him maybe. Foxy brought himself upright quickly and stared Mike down, seemingly unafraid of Mike's new glow.

The sound of Mike cracking his neck echoed through the room, "Sorry captain, but this here be a mutiny!" Mike dashed across the floor, a golden blur in the dim light of the building, his right fist held back. He brought it to bear, and punched a clean hole through Foxy's chest. Not done yet, Mike lifted Foxy up and slammed him down on top of Mangle. The sound of metal crashing against metal filled the air, as Mike brought his Foxy Hammer down upon Mangle again and again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

"Mike, stop!" Mike's arm stopped mid swing, as he looked around. That had sounded like-

"Mike, it's 6:00AM! We can leave!" Jeremy ran over to Mike's right side, showing him the time on his watch. Mike, coming down from the adrenaline surging through him, looked at his improvised weapon. If Foxy wasn't broken before, he definitely was now. Oil flowed from every part of the destroyed body staining the floor black. Foxy's head had fallen off sometime during the onslaught, and rolled around the tiles, eyes still open, but vacant. Mangle was worse off, nearly all of her wires were crushed into thin tubes. Her porcelain face was now riddled with cracks, making her look like an old doll. The oil from Foxy's body mixed with the deluge from Mangle's, a robot crime scene.

Mike shook the captain off of his arm, sending the body crashing a few feet from it's head. The glow began to fade, as he turned towards Jeremy, "Dude! What are you doing out?! I told you to stay in the parts and service-" it was then that Mike felt like his heart had stopped.

Mike fell forward, and Jeremy strained to keep him upright, "Mike! Oh man! This is so bad!" Jeremy looked around at the carnage. They would both probably be fired for this, or worse sent to prison for destroying company property. Jeremy ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, "Oh! What am I supposed to do?"

Leave.

Jeremy's piercing blue eyes looked around in shock. The voiced seemed to have come from everywhere at once, but he couldn't see anyone. "Who, who said that?! Show yourself!" Jeremy was trembling, he didn't know what was going on.

The Marionette descended from the ceiling right next to Foxy's head. He picked it up, cradling it like a mother would her own child.

Leave.

Jeremy was sure of it this time. The Marionette had spoken. But that was impossible! These things weren't capable of speech! At least, he was pretty sure they weren't. Carrying the unconscious Mike, whose feet dragged on the ground as Jeremy moved, he took a cautious step towards the Marionette. Making sure not to slip on the Oil, Jeremy swallowed loudly, "I'm, s-s-sorry to a-a-ask, but did-d-d y-y-you just…...speak to me?"

Leave.

"What was-"

LEAVE!

Jeremy was out of there faster than greased lightning.

The Marionette moved the pirate's head around in his elongated fingers. There was extensive damage to the pirate on every level. The Puppet shook his head, it seemed that guard had a flair for decapitation. Chica and Bonnie were in just about the same condition as Foxy was, Bonnie had even lost his only remaining arm. Freddy, who had been stuck between some of the stage boards, walked over to the Marionette. He looked at Foxy's head and body, then back to the Puppet.

Freddy didn't need a processing chip to tell that his friends needed some serious repairs. Repairs that only the humans who came during the day could give them. So, he grabbed Foxy's body with his remaining paw, and went into the hallway. As the first ray's of sunlight began to pour through the windows, Freddy looked out into the hallway. He saw Toy Bonnie and Toy Chica, looking down upon their predecessors. He left them to their own functions as he carried the captain's body into the parts and services room.

The Puppet followed soon after, holding Foxy's head in one hand, and Mangle's body in the other. The two Toy's gathered up Bonnie and Chica's bodies and craniums, and followed after their leader.

'I don't know what the Hell happened with that night guard," the Marionette thought as he laid Foxy's body up against the wall, 'but I don't really care. He just declared war. And while we may just be entertainers, we can be very dangerous when we want to be.'

'So you better count your blessings Schmidt, because they won't save you from us.'

"So, why don't you start from the beginning, Mr. Fitzgerald?" Jeremy squirmed under the cold gaze of his boss. The fact that the current Mr. Fazbear seemed to favor the intimidating mob boss look didn't help at all. His black fedora, black suit and tie, and pressed pants put Jeremy's working uniform to shame.

"Well, y-y-you see, sir," Jeremy began until his Mr. Fazbear raised up a hand for silence.

"Don't stutter, boy. It is….unbecoming of you."

Jeremy wasn't sure if his boss didn't just use big words to sound smart, or just instill fear. If it was the latter, it was working. Jeremy started to wring his black hat in his hands, "Me and Mike had come to work as usual. Nothing really happened at first. It just seemed like a normal night. And then…." Jeremy trailed off.

Jeremy saw one of his boss' eyebrows rise a bit. Jeremy felt so small sitting there with his ragged white shirt and pants, identical to Mike's uniform. He had just entered the establishment when his boss called him into his office. Jeremy looked around the office, hoping to find something else to focus on besides the Undertaker sitting in front of him. His boss' office always reminded Jeremy of a B rated Noir movie, right down to the partially closed curtains that made the light in the room look like slits, or the big metal desk that his boss was sitting behind.

Mr. Fazbear picked up a pencil, "And then…?" he began to move it between his fingers.

Jeremy gulped down some fresh spit, "And then….everything went to Hell. The anima-" Jeremy shut himself up right there. The contract he signed required that he not mention what happens during the night, no matter what. Even in the confines of the boss' office, he was to act with the utmost secrecy.

Getting his words together, Jeremy continued, "I mean, THEY started to get super aggressive. Like more than usual. We tried to keep them back, but then they did the unthinkable."

"And that would be?" Mr. Fazbear said, rubbing the eraser on his desk.

"Three of them came into the office AT THE SAME TIME! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! I THOUGHT THOSE THINGS WERE SUPPOSED TO BE-"

"Mr. Fitzgerald," Mr. Fazbear spoke with an edge to his voice that got Jeremy to sit back down and shut up, "I think you need to learn how to control your voice." With the employee properly shamed, Fazbear said, "Now, continue."

"R-r-right," Jeremy said, stuttering subconsciously, "So three of them came in to the office. I thought we were gonna die, but then Mike he…..he picked up his chair and threw it at them. Then he grabbed me by my collar and ran. I don't remember much after that, except for when Mike dropped me into the parts and service room. Mike blocked the door with his body so that I couldn't get out. He said he was gonna hold them back so that I could get out alive.

Then I started hearing noises outside the door, like the sound of crashing metal. I tried to open the door, but every time I did, Mike would shut it back. Then, I heard metal footsteps leading away from the door and then human ones following after them. I guessed Mike had abandoned his post, so I pushed open the door. What awaited me, was a something straight out of a slasher film. Two of them were on the ground, both of their heads torn off by some massive blow. Their bodies were so broken that I could see the oil and circuitry that made them run. I stared in awe at the carnage, then I heard more crashing sounds. Just as I prepared to run to the commotion, the 6:00AM alarm sounded.

I felt so much joy at that moment, that I'm pretty sure I would've ran out the door if I could. But, I knew I had to save Mike first. So I ran into the main party room and…." Once Jeremy related the rest of the story, he stared at his boss trying to find some hint of an emotion. He found none.

"Well, my son, I believe what you experienced was a merely a trick of the eyes. More than likely brought about by too many restless nights." Jeremy's jaw was agape as he stared blankly at his boss.

"However, you needn't worry about sleep anymore, for you'll be able to sleep as much as you want, because I'm-" The door to the room opened as if on cue.

"Sorry I'm late boss. Woke up with one heck of a headache," Mike said as he entered the room. Mike scratched his hair and yawned before setting his gaze on the two other bodies in the room. "What, what is it?"

Jeremy was staring at Mike, his eyes communicating complete disbelief, while Mr. Fazbear seemed to be staring at Mike in awe. In fact, if Mike didn't know better, he'd say that they were staring at him as if he was Jesus recently reborn.

Mike put his hand to his face a felt around, "Is something on my face? Did I forget to clean up after eating one of the shitty pizzas here again?"

"Mike," Jeremy said after a few moments of Mike searching his face for something that wasn't there, "What is up with your….everything?!"

Things I did wrong:

1. TIME TRAVEL: Not only is this revealed in one of the most cringeworthy sentences I've ever written (I seriously cringed when I came back to it and had to take a moment before continuing), but it was probably one of the worst things I could've done for the story. Time travel is one of the most difficult concepts to work around in a story, and here I use it as a throw away explanation. Not only will this cause problems for me later down the line, but I know that it'll give everyone who analyzes the plot headaches to think about. All in all, this was a poor decision on my part, even though I would need to tackle it later. The FNAF Timeline is already convoluted enough without me bringing Mike to the second game.

2. Shift to Puppet's Perspective: Looking back, I don't know why I did this. The only reasons I can think of is to either pad out the chapter or hammer home the whole "the animatronics are the Bad Guys" point. Either way, it doesn't work.

3. Mike's Second Breath: For the record, Mike Exalted due to him risking his life to defend Jeremy from the bots. Why is this something I did wrong? Cause I'm not 100% sure if this would qualify for an Exaltation. I know you have to do something awesome to become a Solar, but that's about it. I should've done more research and made it much clearer than it is.

Things I did right:

1. The Meeting with Fazbear: This is one of the major things that made me want to come back to this. I actually had the foresight to point out how Mike's actions affect the world and the people around him. I could've just skipped straight to the next night and fight with no substance in between. But I took the time to actually point out that Mike doesn't live in a vacuum. This is one of the things that made me think, "I might be on to something." It's only one good thing out of the three bad things, but to me this is cool.

And that's it. If this gains enough traction (i.e. the Poll set up), I will continue. Hopefully, it's not as bad as I think it is, and some people like it.

Tawsnrrtsyip · Nov 24, 2018

I'm going to be honest - I just clicked on this for the sheer novelty of a FNAF/Exalted cross, and so far, it's kept my attention. Yes, it was written by edgy, 12 year old you, but it's neat anyway.

LinkOnScepter · Nov 24, 2018

corndogman said:
I'm going to be honest - I just clicked on this for the sheer novelty of a FNAF/Exalted cross, and so far, it's kept my attention. Yes, it was written by edgy, 12 year old you, but it's neat anyway.

Well thank you. That's really all I can say.

LinkOnScepter · Nov 24, 2018

Well, being told to do what I want is all I need.

Here come the next three chapters, but let me warn you, these are probably the worst of the bunch.

Mike raised his eyebrow, "My everything?"

"Your everything?!" Jeremy sounded surprised, what for Mike didn't know, "You look like you're….glowing." It was true, there seemed to be some kind of 'aura' around Mike that lit up the rather dark office.

"Thanks Jere, I should get you a soda for that," Mike sat down in the chair next to Jeremy, putting his feet up on the table. Surprisingly, his boss didn't seem to mind. "However, right now you need to clear up what happened last night for the boss and me."

"That's exactly what I was doing until you- wait! What do you mean for the boss and you?!" Jeremy looked at Mike like he had grown a third head. "You mean you don't remember anything that happened last night?!'

Mike shook his head, "Nope. Last thing I remember is three of the fuckers surrounding me, then I blacked out and had this weird dream."

"Dream? What dream?"

Mike took his feet off the desk and leaned forward, "Ok, so there I was, about to meet my Maker at the hands of those furry fags, when BAM I start glowing gold and punch straight through the bear's arm! At first I'm like 'The Fuck was that!?' Then I realized it was a dream, and I started going HAM on those motherfuckers!"

"HAM, Mike?"

"Hard As A Motherfucker. Duh," Mike softly slapped Jeremy on the back of the head, causing him to fall forward a bit. He caught himself and looked at Mike with annoyance. Mike ignored him, "So, anyway, I rushed at the bastards and started ripping into them. I tear the chicken's and the rabbit's heads off, and shove the bear through a wall! At which point, the Pirate and his sister, came at me and I shoved my fist through the captain's chest.

I then began to use him as a hammer on the girl fox until they both stopped resembling foxes. Then you came in Jeremy, I passed out again, and I woke up at home. That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

Jeremy was looking at Mike with his mouth wide open, "You've got to be kidding me. Is that what happened last night?! Were you on drugs or something!?"

Mike looked at Jeremy with a blank look, "You know I don't do that kind of stuff, Jere. And besides it was just a dream."

"No it wasn't! You must've did that, because that is exactly what I saw when I walked out of the closet!"

"Eh, probably just a coincidence. More than likely they all tripped or something."

"That sounds completely-"

"Reasonable, Mr. Schmidt," Jeremy stared at his boss in disbelief. His boss, had just said that what Mike said was completely reasonable, "It is obvious that Mr. Fitzgerald has been exaggerating the events that transpired last night."

"No I'm not! Why are you taking his side on this!"

"Because, Jere, it's the only feasible answer. I mean, do you seriously think that I could punch a robot's arm off of it's body?" both Mike and Mr. Fazbear had a massive laugh at Jeremy's expense. Jeremy looked between the two men.

'What is going on here?!' He thought as they laughed.

Mr. Fazbear finished laughing as he wiped a tear from his eye, "Oh yes, quite hilarious. Well, it is obvious that neither of you are at fault, so both of you just return to your post. We'll pay for any damages caused, and make sure the customers are pacified."

Mike stood up, and offered his hand, which the manager shook enthusiastically, "Thanks man. Me and Jere'll get back to it." Mike let go of his boss' hand and nodded towards the door. Jeremy, still distraught at the turn of events, walked through it in a trance.

"Oh yes, and Mike, can I call you Mike? I was planning on having a dinner with my family tonight at 8:00. Would you like to come?"

"Only if I can bring Jeremy. He's my bro, and I don't leave bros behind."

"Of course, you can bring as many people as you like. I won't mind at all."

"Sweet, see ya later," and with that, Mike walked out the door with a very confused Jeremy in tow.

Cindy was had just turned 5 years old. It was her birthday today.

All of her friends were there, and her favorite Aunt.

They had Pepperoni pizza and chocolate cake, her favorites.

She even got to see her favorite band of animals play on stage.

She was the apple of her family's eye.

She was crying in a corner of the Prize room.

The Puppet knew, he could hear her through his box.

And it was tearing him up inside.

He could make a good guess as to what it was. Her first day at school is tomorrow probably. And, as usual for kids, she didn't want to go. She didn't know anyone there, she didn't want to leave home, ect. He would know, he used to be that way. At least, he was pretty sure he did.

He shook his head, no time for a trip down memory lane. There was a child in pain, sitting in front of him! He needed to help her, isn't that what he was made for? Why he did what he did every night? So, he began to open the top of the box, carrying a Freddy Fazbear Teddy Bear with him. Just when he crested the top of the box, he saw him.

Mike Schmidt, the Security Guard.

He was walking right towards Cindy.

The Marionette knew he needed to do something.

But….why couldn't he move?

He never hesitated to charge at Mike before. In fact, just last night, he had revealed his ability to speak to the other guard. He was a machine, and though he had a small concept of "feelings", he knew that one thing he could never feel was fear.

But then why was he staring in awe at this stupid, glowing, human? Wait, glowing?

Mike bent down so he was eye level with the girl, "Hey there kiddo. What's your name?"

She was wearing a pink dress with lots of bunnies and frills on it. The sleeves were soaked through, from the crying probably, and her face was partly covered with strands of her long brown hair. Her puffy green eyes stared at Mike intently listening to every word he said. Mike saw how he was reflected with a golden aura around him in the child's eyes. He mentally shrugged. Probably a trick of the light.

"C-C-Cindy," she said, her voice barely above a squeak.

"Cindy, huh," Mike tilted his head and smiled, "Sounds like the name of a Disney Princess."

Cindy blushed a bit, and looked at the ground. She seemed to suddenly gain a lot of interest in her feet.

"Now tell me, why is the Princess crying?" Mike liked kids, they were so innocent. They didn't have to worry about the darkness behind the world. And he knew it was his job to keep it like that. "It's not very becoming of Royalty."

"My-My-mommy said, I have to l-l-leave home and….."

"Go to Elementary School tomorrow?"

Cindy looked up at Mike in surprise. "H-How did you-"

"Know that?" Mike finished for her, standing up from his position, "Because I went through the same thing when I was your age. My mom was gonna make me go to school, and I didn't want to leave my friends and family. I did everything I could to delay the day I had to go. Illness, nose bleed, even tried to bribe my mom with my petty allowance. No dice.

So, I went to school, and you wanna know what happened? I liked it. I made friends, I made enemies, and then my mom got me at 3:00, and that was it. School is not something to be afraid of, it's just an obstacle like everything else. And besides…." Mike looked from side to side, and then bent down so he could whisper in Cindy's ear, "If you promise to give it a try, I'll convince your mom to get you ice-cream after school."

Mike winked at Cindy, and her mood immediately brightened. She started jumping up and down saying, "I promise! I promise!" And then she ran out the room.

Mike smiled after her, then his face became serious. He turned around and looked at the not yet free, Puppet Fucker. He walked close to the machine, and looked it straight in its empty eyes. He's not sure why he thought this thing was scary in the first place. Why did he think this thing was a threat to him. All it was, was a mechanical murder, who has killed countless guards before Mike got here. And he was gonna stop it.

"I know what you are, you piece of shit," his voice was completely calm as he addressed the murderous being, "I know that you're not just some normal bot. In that head of yours, there's a brain. And that brain is thinking, thinking and waiting. Waiting for its chance to get out and hurt these innocent people.

Well just to let you know, you're gonna have to go through me first. And believe me, I don't die easy," with that, Mike walked out of the Prize room and down the hallway.

As he walked, Mike paused for a second. He looked around, and spotted Vincent sweeping the floors nearby. Mike looked at him for a moment, before continuing on his way to Cindy's parents. He's not sure why, but when he looked at Vincent, he felt a very strong urge to punch the guy so hard in the nuts that his Great Great Grandchildren would feel it.

The weirdest part was, he felt like he could actually do it.

As easily as snapping a twig.

The Puppet was sitting in it's box, doing the one thing that it always does when it has a moment to itself.

Think.

And one thought permeated it's mind, more than anything else.

'What the fuck was up that Schmidt guy's eyes? Why'd they flash gold like that?'

'...and why do I suddenly feel like I want to apologize for all the guards I've killed?'

'It just doesn't add up,' Jeremy grabbed another pizza from the oven and handed it to one of the waiters to take. The...girl took the pie and started to walk back into Party Room 1. There were so many people working at the restaurant at this point, that Jeremy had lost many a name to time. The only reason he could remember Mike is because they were always together for the Night Shift. Everyone else might as well have just been side characters in a video game to him.

Especially when he was still trying to make sense of both last night and this morning. 'It didn't make any sense,' he thought, taking down another order as if one auto-pilot. 'If, as crazy as it is, Mike's story has any credibility, then he pulled off something only possible in superhero comic books!

Not only that, but what was up with Mr. Fazbear? He pulled a complete 180 the minute Mike walked in the room! Speaking of which,' while putting a new pizza into one of the ovens, Jeremy glanced over to where "Super Mike" was.

Mike was currently standing in front of the "Family of the Day." Basically, the family who paid big bucks to have a big party for their kid today. And talk about a big group! There were about 10 adults and like 18 kids! Jeremy had to respect the parents of whoever this was for, they really went all out! He had to guess that they could afford it, if the man in the business suit giving Mike his complete attention was anything to go on.

Speaking of which, the whole table seemed to be giving Mike their undivided attention. Jeremy raised his eyebrow, handing another waiter a fresh pizza and soda. 'Why the heck are they all looking at Mike? Is is the glowing?' Now normally, this wouldn't really be much of a big deal.

Except for the fact that the kids are giving Mike all of their attention too.

...And the fact that they are all standing right in front of the stage where the Toy Animatronics are.

Fazbear has a pretty big soft spot for kids, which is part of the reason why he paid the extra dollar to give the Toy Animatronics that criminal database thing. As such, all employees are required to make sure that the children are completely and utterly safe at every time of the day. Thankfully though, most of the children are in the room where the robots are, mystified by the way they sing and dance.

So, why is it that every single last child has stopped to listen to Mike?

"Hey, Jeramole."

And how come everyone seeme to only do this with Mike? The last time he tried to talk to a customer, they just waved him off.

"Hey! Earth to sissy britches!"

And why-

"JEREMY!"

The clatter of dishes followed as Jeremy jumped up in surprise. He winced as a fresh out of the oven pizza fell to the ground, landing crust side down. Jeremy's hands went to his rather ruffled hair and squeezed, "Oh no. Not again."

A man, Vincent Jeremy figured, looked over Jeremy's shoulder, "Well….your pay's getting docked. Again."

Jeremy looked at Vincent, "Why did you s-s-scream at me?!" He was really only asking to be polite. He's pretty sure Vince would take any moment to yell at him. That guy is like a bully, a big, purple, bully.

Crossing his arms over his purple uniform (Why did he have that on anyway? No one else here wore purple! Not even Fritz!) and frowned...or smiled….Jeremy could never tell which, "It's 3:00. Time for you and your butt buddy over there to go home." Vincent pointed his thumb at Mike, who was shaking hands with the father and mother of the family.

I tried to tell ya, but you seemed to space out while looking at McGlowing over there. What, were you imagining the things he's gonna do to you tonight?" Vincent hit Jeremy on the back of the head, laughing as the smaller man knelt down in a panic to pick up his fallen hat.

Jeremy waved his hands in a gesture of rebuttal, "W-w-what?! No! No! Of course not! I was just-urgh-nevermind. So, my shift's over then?" Jeremy had long since gotten used to Vincent's constant abuse (especially since Mike was there to keep the other guard in check) and had learned to not even try to argue with the man. It was like arguing with an extremely hostile brick wall.

"Yep, so if you don't mind, scram!" Vincent points his thumb behind him for emphasis. "Oh, yeah, and tell that walking night light that if he hangs out with the kids too much people are gonna think he's a-"

"Does it make you feel big, Vincent?"

Both men wince. The previously nonchalant atmosphere had just become extremely oppressive. It was as if someone had just angered the boss, and he was going on a firing spree. They looked to their left, and there stood Mike Schmidt with his hands in his pockets, glowering at Vincent.

"Does it make you feel good? To just berate people like that?" Jeremy gulped. Mike didn't usually sound like this. Sure, he did always have a problem with Vincent, but he never let it show at work. The worst he did was make passive aggressive comments towards his fellow employee. However, now...Jeremy could feel actual malice in those words.

And worst of all-intent.

Vincent, though he tried to hid in by standing tall, was visibly shaken by what Mike said. Jeremy could tell, even as the other man said, "What's it to you?"

"It's not polite. And, it bothers other people," Mike leaned in to Vince, making sure they were eye to eye, "Including me."

"You've never had a problem with my 'comments' before. So why now? Did I happen to hit a nerve today, or," Vince smile looked like a snake's when it was moving in for a kill, "or did I happen to hit on some truth back-urk!"

Jeremy's mouth fell open as Mike began to hoist Vincent up by the throat with one hand. Jeremy ran over and grabbed Mike by the arm, "Mike! What are you doing?!"

"I could kill him Jeremy. I could kill him right fucking now, and stop him from doing something horrible." Mike's voice was as cold as ice.

Jeremy kept pulling on Mike's arm, but he couldn't seem to move it. What was Mike made of, solid stone? "How do you know that he's gonna do anything even slightly horrible?!" How come nobody was calling the police or something?! Jeremy didn't want Mike to go to jail, but someone need to do something!

Mike grit his teeth, "I...I..I just know, OK! I don't know how I know, I just do!"

"And if you're wrong?! You'll have killed an innocent man and gone to jail for it! Please!"

Mike seemed to hesitate for another minute, before he finally let Vincent fall to the ground. As the purple covered man took in ragged breaths, Mike marched out of the restaurant.

Jeremy looked at Vincent, and held his hand out to him, "I'm so sorry about-"

Vincent swatted his hand away, "Fuck off, you tool! And tell your fuckbuddy that I plan to press charges against him!"

Jeremy, holding his smarting hand, looked down at the floor. He followed Mike out of the entrance, worrying about his friend.

"Mike! What the Hell was that?!" a semi-truck with a McDonald's AD sped by as the pair walked side by side down the street. They both still had their uniforms on, thankfully with all of the holes and tears sewn up. Why take them off? They'll be back at the pizzeria at 12:00 AM anyway.

Mike lit up a cigarette as he turned to speak to his friend, "What was what?"

"You know what!"

Mike's hand went to his chin as he thought back on his day, "Me walking in on the boss yelling at you?"

"No."

"My, so called, 'Golden-Glow'?" A puff of smoke accompanied this question.

"No." Jeremy said as he wafted the smoke away from him.

"Hmmmm, what happened with Vincent?"

"Yes! Exactly that!" Jeremy stomped over in front of Mike, causing the bigger man to stop abruptly. Jeremy looked up into Mike's eyes with concern and worry, "Why did you grab him by the throat like that?! You know what you just did right?! You just gave him a reason to get you fired! Do you even realize—"

Jeremy's words were cut off as Mike ruffled the smaller man's hair. The glow that had been around him since this morning seemed to have tapered off after they had gotten outside.

The sun was still out, but it was starting to set in the horizon.

"Don't worry about it," Mike said as he gave the blonde haired man a break, "Vincent doesn't have the guts to get the police on my ass."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't," Mike started walking again, being careful to not knock Jeremy over as he moved on. After straightening his hair, Jeremy caught up to Mike and matched his pace.
However, I am an optimist. And I try my best to look on the bright side of things."

"That's fine, Mike, but what if your wrong and Vincent calls the police on you?"

"Then I'll go with them, and answer any questions they have," the two friends passed by a comic book store where an entire line of men and women fought to get to the front of the line. As Mike passed by, the crowd stopped to watch him move past. They marveled at him, almost like he was a statue made of gold.

If you notice, Jere, you will only ever get in real trouble with the law when you refuse to cooperate." Mike walked by the end of the line, causing the entire procession to erupt into chaos yet again.

Neither men seemed to notice, "But what if you get fined, or worse, thrown in Jail!? You know we can't afford that! We hardly make enough money to feed ourselves!"
Mike waved his hand, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"But—"

A scream, high pitched and nearby rang through the air.

A laugh, low and guttural followed shortly after.

Jeremy stopped, his legs trembling underneath him, "What was—"

He heard a WHOOSH and when he looked to his left, Mike was gone.

Julia was just out of college.

Her breathing was ragged as she ran down the deserted sidewalk. Where was everyone this time of day?!

Her parents had told her that it was a waste of time and money, and that she would be better off getting a rich husband somewhere.

Footsteps moved fast behind her, as her bright green dress fluttered in the breeze.

She told them they could shove it.

She turned down another street, not really caring where she was going. As long as it was away from here!

She had just graduated, and it was almost time for her big day.

But no matter where she went, the sound of footfalls followed behind her.

The day when she finally got her big break, and was hired for her dream job as a journalist.

Her green eyes were puffy from crying so much, wishing that this was just a dream.

If only she hadn't of gone out to get that coffee this morning.

Her energy, even with the adrenaline flowing through her veins, finally ran out as she slowed to a stop in a grassy clearing.

"Nowhere to run now, Julia," Julia's spine felt cold as she turned to face her assailant.

He was a tall man, taller than even Julia at 5 feet in heels. He arms were lanky and thin, but they fell to his sides in a way that made him look ready for any attack. Which he probably was, judging by the serrated knife held in his right, light skinned hand. His shirt, several buttons undone, was stained just like his pants, and he reeked of alcohol.

However, that is not what told Julia who he was. Nor was it the shock of black hair that covered one eye in a sinister fashion.

It was the scar on his cheek where she had cut him once before.

"Chris?! What part of 'restraining order' do you not understand?" Julia yelled at her ex-friend, defiant despite the situation.

Chris' mouth parted in a predatory smile, "Oh Julia, you know I've always been a bad boy," he fingered his knife as he said this.

"I already told you, stay the fuck away from me."

"Now that's not fair Julia," he took a step closer, "we used to be so close in high school."

"No we weren't! You just thought we were in that sick mind of yours!" Julia stepped back, her auburn hair whipping around as she looked for somewhere, anywhere to run. Despite the situation, her eyes still burned with a fury that could not be matched by any fire.

Chris stared into those eyes, and his face lit up with a sneer, "Julia, you know that you shouldn't lie to your boy—"

"Hey man, you're bothering the lady."

Chris span on his heel, knife poised to stab whoever was behind him in the kidneys. He had already been stopped once, he wouldn't let it happen again—

The first indication that something was wrong, was when Chris felt resistance against his knife. He looked down, and saw his hand stopped mid-swing my a muscular hand.

He looked up, and then he felt weightless as a fist connected with his lower jaw.

He saw three things before he blacked out.

First, his knife being held in the hand of a man in a security guard outfit.

Second, the sun setting in the west, as it silhouetted the one who flipped him through the air.

Lastly, the things that he would remember for as long as he lived; those eyes.

Those burning, golden eyes.

The ones that shown with a purpose, a noble purpose.

The type of eyes Chris could only ever dream of having.

Confidence, hope, and more were all reflected in this man's eyes.

No, not a man.

A Demi-God.

And that's the plan, you sure you've got everything?

Of course! I'm the messenger after all!

Alright, make sure that you let everyone else know. Tonight's the night we take out those guards!

Wait!

What, I thought you said you got everything?

I do, but...you said 'guards'. Does that mean the scary golden one too?

Yes, that one too.

But—but—he took out Freddy and the Captain like they were nothing! Plus he glows gold, and is really strong, and looks really scary, and—

BB, calm down. What have the Captain and I told you about being brave?

…..

…..Well?

That being brave means to stand up to things even if they are scary?

Exactly. Now run along and be ready for tonight.

Alright! Bye Mary!

….You won't survive this night Schimdt. I'll make sure of that.

Things I did wrong:

1. Mike's dialogue during the interview: When I was a teen, I thought that the way Mike talked made him sound like a cool and chill dude. Now, I see it as what an immature 12 year old would think a "cool and chill dude" would sound like. I had to get rid of a few things there in order to make sure it didn't go too far or sound too terrible. There's not really anything specific I want to point out. It's just bad dialogue and doesn't do a good job at characterizing Mike.

2. Vincent: Just....everything with Vincent. You remember how I said the animatronics wouldn't be mustache twirling villains? Yeah, that's reserved for Vincent. Seriously, he just sounds so fucking unlikable here. And I know that can work for a bad guy, Dio is a thing after all. But this is like he only ever opens his mouth to say insults or otherwise. It raises the question of how the heck he got his job? Not only that, but it made it harder to think about what I could do with his character later down the line. I know what I'm going to do now, but it was a problem at first.

3. The constantly switching POV: Doing it once in a while is fine. Constantly doing it gets annoying real fast.

4. The Crime: That was literally just a chance for MIke to effortlessly defeat some random smhuck off the side of the street. I did look up what this time period was like in America, but whether that actually comes through my writing, I don't know. I do have a plan for this to go somewhere later, but that doesn't change that it was pretty much something that was completely unneeded for now.

Things I did ok:

1. Alluding to the animatronics' plan: I was surprised young me was able to think of a plan that would actually be threatening to Mike at this point. Seriously, I had expected I would just let the animatronics come up with a plan and then be like "lol nope, Mike's too OP", but no. Anyone with a brain can probably figure out what the plan is though, so I'm not going to act like it was something amazing. Everyone can see it coming from a mile away.

Things I did right:

1. People's reaction to Mike: Now, I'm not 100% if I'm getting a Solar's powers right. I'll admit that. But, I have to give credit to showing off how Mike's powers go beyond just giving him superhuman abilities. It can make normal people love and respect him despite the fact he's only talked to them once. And by using Jeremy as a lens, we can see exactly why it is weird and not something that can be easily ignored.

LinkOnScepter · Nov 25, 2018

Now this is actually a bit different than the others. Only two of these chapters (7 and 8) were written by me when I was 13, I think. The third chapter, chapter 9, is actually the first chapter I've written since abandoning this story. Why is it here then? Cause 1) I still don't feel like I should update a fanfiction with less than 3k words and 2) cause it still falls into the same way I wrote the previous chapters.

It isn't until chapter 10 that I changed things around. But, this is the last of the cringe and terribleness that was in the previous stories. So, from here on out, the story should be at least decent.

"And today's top story local man, Mike Schmidt, saved Julia Nanam from her stalker, Chris Neuman. According to Nanam she had issued a restraining order on Neuman when she was 18 to stop his tendency to follow her everywhere. Neuman became unstable, cornering Nanam in an open grassland—"

Jeremy changed the channel, his hand temporarily leaving the small stack of bills in front of him.

"—Mr. Neuman was taken into custody after the police arrived on the scene. However, thanks to the heroics of Mike Schmidt, Ms. Nanam will go home with no serious injur—"
Jeremy hit the remote again.

"—this news station was lucky enough to get a short interview with the local hero, who works as a Night Guard for Fazbear Entertainment. He had this to say," the blonde woman on the screen switched to an image of Mike, black hair slightly covering his eyes in certain places, " 'I'm nothing special. Just a good samaritan who happened to be in the right place at the right time.' "

Jeremy lifted up the stack of papers in one hand while rubbing his forehead with the other, "Ok. I think I have an idea for a budget for the rest of the week." He relaxed backwards into his wooden chair, placing the papers back on the table.

He looked around at the rather shitty apartment room. They didn't really have much lining the alabaster walls of the room. Then again, it's hard to afford anything on $100.50 a week. Sure, they both get their own respective paychecks, but that's only $201.00 for one week of work! That's not even enough to afford their own car!

Jeremy stood up and walked over to their singular fridge. It was boxy and grey, filled to the brim with leftovers from the dinner at Mr. Fazbear's place. Surprisingly, the man actually ate the same pizza that they served at the restaurant. Jeremy always thought the food had tasted like feet covered in spoiled cheese, but food was food.

Pizza and plate in hand, he made his way over to the single three seat couch that took up most of the room. The lone sofa creaked a bit as he sat down, it's old age showing clear through the torn fabric.

Sighing, Jeremy took a bite out of the pizza and flicked the TV to something other than the News.

He already knew what every News Channel would be covering anyway; Mike.

From CBS to Fox 4, Mike was the name on everyone's lips. Over the course of a day, Mike had gone from just a no name Night Guard, to one of the most famous people in the city. Sure, the police could try to arrest him for technically dispensing vigilante justice, but he had turned the criminal in and had won over most of the population with his heroics. So, the police decided to let this slide.

The sound of fist hitting leather reached his ears, and Jeremy glanced at the door to Mike's Room. There wasn't much on the door, just some posters of his favorite Metal Band, Disturbed, and some old fake webs from Halloween. Mike was probably practicing with his punching bag like he did everyday at 10:00 AM. When Jeremy had asked why he did that, Mike said something about "Being prepared if those jerkass bots actually got into the room."

Jeremy scowled as he heard another New Reporter talking about Mike's Heroic action earlier today. It's not that he's jealous of Mike. Far from it, he's happy that Mike used his—whatever they were powers—for something good, instead of stealing from a bank or something. He was just….worried.

'I'm probably just overthinking things,' he always said that to himself whenever he felt like he worried about Mike a bit too much. But it was true. While, yes, they never received any kudos for the work they did, they didn't need any. Both of them were content in the fact that they knew something that no one else did. And that they were the only line of defense between the world(or at least other security guards) and….whatever those robots had planned for humanity.

But now? Now there were people who knew who Mike was, or at least knew what he looked like. Who knows what could happen? They could get swarmed by rabid fans, or what if someone notices Mike's "uniqueness" and turns him into the government? Or, what if their boss finally comes to his senses and fires them for good? Or what if—
"Hey, Jere. You OK man?" Jeremy yelped and slightly jumped out of his sleep. He turned around quickly, and relaxed as he saw Mike standing there with towel over his shoulders. His white skin, muscled yet lean, was glistening with sweat. He must've been really pushing himself in there.

Mike's hand shot back to his side, "Oh, sorry man. You just seemed to have zoned out for a second there."

Jeremy sighed and shook his head, "Yeah, sorry about that man. I was just thinking. Did you need something?"

"Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask you, since when I start to glow gold?"

"Oh since—wait a minute," Jeremy's eyes widened, "You mean you finally realized it!?"

Mike nodded, "Yeah, saw it while I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom. In fact, I remember seeing it when I was talking to this little girl earlier today. It was back at the pizzeria. When I saw my reflection in her eyes, I noticed that I had some kind of glow around me."

Mike's hand flew to his chin, and began to scratch his stubble, "At first I thought it was just a trick of the light, but come to think of it, the first time I remember seeing it was—"
"At the pizzeria," Jeremy finished for him. "It was when you were cornered by the Old Animatronics, right?"

Mike was silent for a time as his mind made sense of the new information. It didn't take long for him to put two and two together, "Oh. My. God. You thinking what I'm thinking."

Jeremy nodded.

"Those animatronics won't know what hit 'em!"

"We have to find out what this is."

"Huh?" the two men said in unison.

"What do you mean, 'won't know what hit 'em'?!"

Mike grabbed Jeremy by his shoulders, "Dude, what have we been doing the entire time we've worked at that shitty place?"

Jeremy struggled to find the right words(he had them, he just didn't want to be rude) as Mike continued, "We've been hiding from them! We've been consistently backed against a wall, most times literally, by those robotic fucks! And why?

At this point Mike's eyes had a dangerous sheen to them that made Jeremy shiver a bit.

Because we couldn't hurt them." Mike was smiling, and it reached all the way to his ears, "But now, we can hurt them. I can hurt them. Jeremy, we don't have to hide anymore. No more cowering until the clock strikes six. No more winding up that damn music box. No more being stuck in that god forsaken room! It's time we brought the fight to them."

"But what about after?!" Jeremy rarely ever yelled. People had told him that his squeaky voice made him sound like a girl. While Mike had silenced these bullies, Jeremy still did his best to keep his voice as low and deep as possible.

Now though, he was more worried about Mike than about his voice, "Even if we "bring the fight" to them, what are we supposed to do afterwards?! Mr. Fazbear will fire us for sure! He may even get the police on us, and have us arrested for property damage! What if—"

Jeremy felt a weight lift from his shoulders and a hand rubbed his hair. He looked up, and for the first time that day, got a good look at Mike's eyes.

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul, and Jeremy had always been able to see Mike's since they first met. The navy blue orbs always had the haunted looks of a fighter about them, constantly sizing everyone and everything that might be a threat up. In those eyes, one would see Mike's distress, not just at the new animatronics, but at the ones where he came from as well. He had spent 7 nights with those mechanical monstrosities, and the only things between him and certain death were two metal doors. He had come across the one thing every fighter dreads; an enemy he can't just punch to death.

But, when Jeremy looked into Mike's smiling face he didn't see those eyes.

He saw golden orbs that shined brighter than the sun itself.

And suddenly, he felt at peace in Mike's presence.

He felt like everything would be alright.

For in those eyes, he saw the three traits that a fighter needs to win a battle.

Drive.

Bravery.

And Hope.

"Jere, my man, there's a saying in my time," he let Jeremy's head alone, and reached to straighten his hat, " 'Learn from the past, prepare for the future, live in the present.' And right now, what you're doing is 'worrying about the future' not preparing for it."

"Well then," Jeremy suddenly felt very small under Mike's gaze. As if he was but an ant standing next to a giant, "how should I prepare?"

"By trusting me."

Jeremy looked up at Mike, trying to find even a hint of doubt. Some little nervous twitch that would let Jeremy know that Mike felt even a tiny bit of fear at what he was proposing they do.

But he found none.

Jeremy sighed heavily, "Alright, I'm in."

The moon rose and bathed Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria in its pale light.

From the outside, the place looked completely dead. The parking lot was deserted, and there were no lights shining on the inside.

Only madmen would enter this place at night.

'Or people who want to get paid.' The Marionette thought inside of his box. He heard the front door to the establishment slam open, and smiled to himself. He had gathered the rest of the group around at 11: 30 PM to go over the plan one last time.

It wasn't a perfect meeting, Freddy and Foxy made it clear that they didn't like how they were forced to sit this one out. The Marionette understood their anger, after all Mike had hit them the hardest. Thankfully, Mr. Fazbear reached into that endless money pit of his, and was able to get them both back up to factory standard. He knew that they were both itching for a go at the Night Guard.

But they needed them to hang back for now.

If their plan was going to work, they needed the both of them in the Parts and Service room today.

Once everyone was in place, the real show could begin.

The players were ready.

The stage was set.

12:00 AM.

The curtain rises.

"Hey, Jeremy."

"Um, y-y-yeah Mike?"

"What's wrong with this picture?"

"What picture?"

Mike swept his right arm around the office room.

Jeremy looked up from the camera feed, "Uh. Um. The d-dark-darkness down the halls?"

Mike shook his head while leaning back in his chair, "No, that's always been there."

Jeremy studied the room a bit longer, "Oh! They put a new shade of grey on the walls?!"

"No, it's the same dull color it's always been."

"Um, the air is a bit less….stale?"

Mike facepalmed, "No, Jeremy. Tell me, what's the one thing that has been a constant source of grief for us since we first took this godforsaken job?"

"Um, the Animatronics?"

Mike slammed his palm on the table, causing the whole thing to rock a bit with the force, "Yes! Exactly! Those motherfuckers haven't even attempted to attack us yet! What the fuck is their deal tonight? What time is it anyway?"

Jeremy straightened up in his seat, and looked back at the camera. Thankfully, the music box was still wound up to full, "W-w-why is that a bad thing? Oh, and uh, 1:24 "
"The Hell is taking so long?! Foxy should've been in the hallway five seconds ago! Here I was, all psyched to finally wreak my everlasting vengeance upon those fuckers, and they're fucking flaking on me!

Seriously, the one night I actually want to get jumped, they don't attack me! Especially after last night, when they had the balls to come into the room three at a time? The fuck?"
Mike got up from his chair, and stomped over to the front hallway entrance. Jeremy put down the camera and held out his hand as Mike shouted, "Come on you robo-fucks! I'm right here! Come and face Justice!"

Silence was the darkness' reply. Mike frowned, scrunching up his face as he stomped back over to his seat beside his fellow Night Guard.

Jeremy breathe a sigh of relief and picked the tablet back up, "Well, um, how about we talk about something else? You know...to...get your mind off things?"

Leaning back in his seat, Mike pulled his hat over his eyes, "Yeah, sure. I'm all ears."

"Ok then. Uuuuuhhhhh…"

Both men sat in silence for sometime. They hadn't really had any moment to just...hang out. Their schedule generally consisted of:

Go to work at 12 AM.
Try not to die until 6 AM.
Stay at work until 3 PM.
Walk home and rest.
Repeat.

Naturally, much of their energy was devoted to numbers 2 and 3. As such, they never really had a moment to talk to each other about normal things that didn't have to do with some machine trying to bite their faces off. Sports, TV, even Mike's very existence in 1987, all took a backseat to surviving just one more night of terror.

'Well, what better time to change that than the present?' Jeremy thought as he started winding the Music Box again. "Soooooo….how's your training been going?"

"Pretty good. Beat my record yesterday."

"Cool."

…..

"You into boxing at all, Jere?"

"No."

"Oh."

…...

They both spoke in unison, "Into Warhammer 40k?

Yes!"

Mike swiveled in his chair, smiling, "Oh man! You have no idea how good it feels to find a fellow fan boy!"

"I know right!" Jeremy quickly put down the tablet and turned in his seat, "Most people hardly even know what you're talking about—"

"Unless you explain every little detail to them!"

"Yeah!"

"Hey, you know the tagline, right?!"

Jeremy smiled, and stood up placing his right hand over his heart, " 'In the grimdarkness of the 41st Millenium….' "

" 'there is Only War….' " Mike continued also standing up.

" '...and awesomeness!' " both men finished, their voices ringing off the walls of the establishment. They sat back down and began to speak to each other, overjoyed to find someone who was fascinated in the same things they were.

The clock struck 2:00.

Something moved.

Calm down BB. Be brave like the Captain said.

The smallest and sneakiest of the animatronics next to the Marionette, Balloon Boy had become like a messenger among the animatronic family. His ability to get into, and out of, the office is an invaluable tool when it comes to getting at those two humans. All he needs is to get close, grab the batteries, and it's goodbye Night Guard.

Well, that's how it was. The little robot was about half-way down the vent by now, dragging his bulky body along despite the fact that his hands being rounded balls.
Just need to get in, grab the square...thing and get out.

However, that tactic quickly went out the window when the second Night Guard showed up. When he took the batteries out of one flashlight, the other one could cover for both of them. BB was fast, but not fast enough to steal the batteries out of both of the devices at the same time.

BB had reached the lip of the vent by now. He could here the two humans chatting and yelling about something. They both sounded angry, "I can't believe GW let Matt Ward do that to the Space Marines!"

That was the blonde haired one, Jeremy BB remembered, but the one that he was staring at was the newest Guard.

Mike Schmidt.

"Trust me! I'm still as angry as when I heard about it the first time!"

"GW can't let him get away with that, can they? I mean, he just took some of the most badass dudes in the Imperium and turned them into a bunch of fucking Mary Sues!"

"You think that's bad? Let me tell you about a little something called 'Multilasers.' "

While he wasn't sure what they were talking about, it was enough to distract them from the tablet on the desk. BB slowly reached his free arm up, carefully inching towards the device.

Al...most...there.

"He did what to an Eldar Farseer named Taldeer!?"

"Tortured her for 20 straight pages for no reason. Thankfully, she shows up in the sequel to the game the book was based off of, Dark Crusade, so it's not canon as far as the games are concerned.

Just…..a little...further.

Still, what he did with to the Warhammer 40k lore is almost as bad as someone trying to steal the tablet right from under our noses."

Got it! Wait, what did he—?

Balloon Boy felt something grip his hand, hard, and then he was off the ground hanging from Mike Schmidt's outstretched hand.

Mike smiled as he observed the small robot, eyes shining with fervor, "I was wondering when one of you would show up. Though to be frank, I expect Foxy or maybe that big brown fuck. Instead, it's you," he stretched out the word to make it sound as menacing as possible. "Not that I'm complaining."

BB was a robot, so he didn't necessarily grasp the idea of fear. As far as he could compute, being brave was exactly what Mary and the Captain had defined for him. As such, even though Schmidt looked at him with those cold, piercing eyes, he should've been able to twist out of the vice grip on his arm and grab the tablet.

But for some reason, he couldn't move.

All of his circuits had locked up.

He could only think of one thing.

Captain, please help me.

"Bro, check the Music Box. I'm gonna have a little 'chat' with our thief here," Mike stood up from his chair, grinning with the idea of finally delivering justice upon one of these animatronic fucks.

Jeremy, shaking off the shock of BB getting in the room, picked up the tablet….and froze.

Sensing his friend's discomfort, Mike turned back over to Jeremy, "What's wrong, man? Foxy in the hallway?"

"No, worse."

"That weird Golden thing is in the room?"

"Worse than that."

"Freddy and his fuckbuddies are on the stage about to sing a horrible rendition of 'My heart will go on.' ?"

"No. Wait, why would…? Nevermind. No worse. The Music Box. It's gone."

The pizzeria was quiet save for the slow footsteps of the night guards as they moved down the dark hallway. Mike's body acted as a makeshift flashlight, illuminating the scribbled children's drawings on the walls. The light didn't reach very far but it was bright enough to let them see three steps ahead of them.

Though his steps were slow, his purpose was very clear. Mike kept up a steady pace with his eyes on a swivel. Any small movement could mean their deaths here. They were walking into the belly of the beast, the lair of all the Animatronics that were housed here.

Mike's brows furrowed as they reached an intersection. He put out a hand out to stop Jeremy in his tracks. The blonde guard jumped slightly, trembling as he began frantically scanning their area, "W-wh-what is it? Is it Foxy?"

The taller guard shook his head, "No way. You remember what I did to that thing? The mechanics won't be able to get him working again for a while. Though it wouldn't surprise me if we ran into him. These things are damn resilient." Mike didn't mention how he was secretly hoping the pirate bastard would show up again. He didn't get to finish him off last time. This time though, he'll make sure that the machine won't even be recognizable anymore.

Mike puts a hand on the right corner and pulled his head around to peer down the hallway. While he did that, Jeremy focused on the thrashing bundle of metal in his right hand. Swallowing nervously, he tapped Mike on the back, "Um, Mike? I understand not wanting him to disappear and possible hurt us, but do you really have to keep holding him up by his head like that?"

Mike turns around to look at the hand he has clenched around the tiny robot's head. His grip is firm enough to cause dents to appear in the metal of the robot named Balloon Boy. The small machine keeps spinning its arms and legs in a vain attempt to get away from his captor. Mike shakes him up and down in rapid succession to stop his thrashing. The sound of gears being rattled echoes through the empty halls until the guard stops. Seeming to have gotten the message, the little bot keeps his arms in their standard position. Both held out to the right and left with a sign that just says "Hello" in his right hand.

Satisfied, Mike goes back to looking around the corner, "Don't feel any sympathy for these things, Jere. Everyone of 'em has no problem with killing us at any and every opportunity. Besides, he doesn't have a neck I can grab so this is the next best thing." Mike does another shake to emphasize. He focuses his gaze down the hallway around this corner. His sight didn't seem affected by the oppressive darkness that used to leave him blind without a source of light. Yet another thing he has to thank these new powers for. It certainly makes this easier than it otherwise would be. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but he knew that meant little around this place. He picked out the open vent right above the door to the party room. The door to the room was covered in a multitude of plushies of the mascots. They were a hit with the kids, so it made sense to make a bunch of them. Even Mike had to admit that they had a strange, teddy bear like charm to them. Right now, though, they were small landmines that would go off and give away their position if they weren't careful.

He turns around, nods towards Jeremy, and slowly moves around the corner in a crouch. He's careful to step around and away from any stray dolls on the ground. Jeremy, after doing a double take around down the other hallway to be sure, followed Mike as best he could. The older guard's steps were difficult to keep track of for Jeremy. They seemed almost other worldly at times. Even when Mike did end up stepping on an unavoidable plushie, he did so with so little force that it doesn't make a sound.
Keeping his voice low, Jeremy says, "Mike, I-I've got to tell you something."

"Yeah, what is it?" Mike places his back up against the wall right before the door to the party room. Jeremy follows behind, his legs shaking slightly at the thought of being discovered.

"Well," Jeremy stops numerous times trying to find a way to articulate his point, "Last night, after you pass out, the Marionette came out and it….it….it tal—"

The sound of glass shattering rang from inside the party room. Both nightguards froze up, surprised at the volume of the sound. They looked at each other once, before Mike dashed into the prize room with BB still held in his right hand. Jeremy tried to stop him but his friend was too fast. Realizing his source of light was now inside the room, he quickly moved in after him.

The prize room itself wasn't very remarkable. A standard prize desk were the kids can cash in tickets for the plushies set up on the shelves on the walls. The only major difference was the giant, white and pink striped box in the middle of the room. It was where they kept the Marionette animatronic.

And it was currently tipped over with its sides stomped flat by a multitude of feet. Next to the open hatch, a tiny, brown music box with the remains of a ballerina smashed against the ground.

Jeremy fell to his knees with his hand outstretched towards the destroyed item. He looks at it with the eyes of a man whose only lifeline has just been cut. He couldn't say anything, just mumble nonsense while his brain tried to come up with an appropriate response. His hand drooped to the ground along with his head. His voice finally came back to him, "It's…. it's…. no. It can't be. How are we going to survive now? That will…. it'll just…. grab us right out of the office and…."

"Jere, calm down," the calm, collected voice of his friend reached his ears, once again dispelling the despair that was taking hold of Jeremy's heart. He stood up as Mike turned towards the door.

Jeremy followed, "Ok, but Mike, aren't you even a little bit worried?"

"Why should I be?" came the curt reply.

"You know why! That thing is the most dangerous one of them. The light glitch doesn't work on it, it knows exactly where we are no matter what room it is, and its too fast for us to keep track of so we can't make a plan to counter it," Jeremy takes a breath, finished listing off the reasons why the situation they were in was one of the worst they couldn't been put in. "And the music box was the only way to stop it. Without that…. what can we do?"

Jeremy reached the side of his fellow guard. He looked up into Mike's face and beheld the same manic smile and burning eyes that he remembered from when he started choking Vincent.

Mike turned towards his friend and spoke with utter certainty, "Jere, don't you remember what we talked about last night? What our plan was?"

Slightly afraid of Mike's feral gaze, Jeremy gulped before replying, "Y-yes. We just let you handle everything, while I stay out of sight. B-but that was for when we were in the office."

"So?" Mike quickly walks to a wall and starts to size it up. His stance is relaxed and ready with his arms at his sides. BB's feet almost touch the ground, causing the small robot to start trying to get away from the nightguard. Mike nods and says, "The plan hasn't changed. Just the way we get it started. Instead of waiting for them to come to us…."

The sound of drywall being smashed in caused Jeremy to jump. He stumbled over the plushies that littered the floor, falling to the tiled floor on top of a pile of plushy goodness. He shakes his head, looking over to where Mike was…. then his jaw dropped to the floor.

Mike stands with BB slammed into a newly made, small, BB shaped hole in the wall. With a tiny chuckle, Mike speaks loud enough for his voice to carry, "We're brining the fight right to them!"

In the first Party Room, on top of a wooden stage, the red curtain begins to rise…

Things I did wrong:

1. Disturbed and 40k: Can you say, self-insertion? It wasn't until later I learned how cringe and horrible it was to include your own hobbies and interest in your work. You can do it if the connection is subtle or weaved into the story, but having the characters themselves be into it and openly mention its existence, is just terrible. I especially hate the 40k dialogue as it feels so forced. Not only that, but if you couldn't tell, I was really into the 1d4chan description of 40k. It really wasn't a good thing to include and is really tasteless now. It even fails from the point of the story, cause wouldn't Mike have caused some serious problems telling someone from the past things that happen in the future? Or does it not because time doesn't work like that here? Once again, a bad idea due to me not explaining the time travel.

2. Chapter 9 itself: I don't think chapter 9 is bad. It does its job and ratchets up the tension for the night and reveals some more of the stakes. What gets it put here, is that it is obviously filler. I don't know why I did this, but I decided to once again write a 1k word filler chapter. Nothing really gets accomplished in it. The music box being broken is a problem, but outside of that nothing happens. Nothing about the current situation really changes, and there's nothing about this chapter that makes it needed. I could've left it out, revealed the music box was destroyed elsewhere, and nothing would've changed.

Things I did right:

1. The entire part with Jeremy: If there's one thing I give my 13 year old self credit for, it's for having the sense to include Jeremy's perspective on things. By focusing more on Jeremy's POV here, I can better show how Mike's Exaltation looks on the outside. Not only that, but it adds a more human element and consequences to the situation. Anyone who knows what being a Solar means knows that Mike could easily take out all of the animatronics. He'd be in trouble if they jumped him in an enclosed space, but for the most part he completely outmatches them. Jeremy offers the explanations as to why that's a bad idea. And, people who know Solars, also know that their charisma has a limit. Mike won't be able to rely on his Solar charm if he does too much damage, especially since he's more combat oriented. Jeremy shows the unforseen consequences that could come from Mike's actions.

2. Conflict between Jeremy and Mike: It might be small, but there is a conflict between Jeremy and Mike here. I might not have realized it when I was younger, but I had created the foundation for improving the two's characterization through their different approaches and outlooks on the situation. Sure, it might be the cliche "logical, down to earth, weak guy and confident, head in clouds, strong dude", but at least its something. I could've just had Jeremy never question that anything bad would happen now that Mike has his powers. But no, he actually points out the problems with Mike's approach.

Tawsnrrtsyip · Nov 25, 2018

LinkOnScepter said:
They both spoke in unison, "Into Warhammer 40k?

Yes!"

Mike swiveled in his chair, smiling, "Oh man! You have no idea how good it feels to find a fellow fan boy!"

"I know right!" Jeremy quickly put down the tablet and turned in his seat, "Most people hardly even know what you're talking about—"

"Unless you explain every little detail to them!"

"Yeah!"

"Hey, you know the tagline, right?!"

Jeremy smiled, and stood up placing his right hand over his heart, " 'In the grimdarkness of the 41st Millennium….' "

" 'there is Only War….' " Mike continued also standing up.

" '...and awesomeness!' " both men finished, their voices ringing off the walls of the establishment. They sat back down and began to speak to each other, overjoyed to find someone who was fascinated in the same things they were.

I know this feeling.

So hard.

LinkOnScepter · Nov 26, 2018

Alright, from here on out anything I post will be chapters that I've written recently. Hopefully, I have improved and that comes out the rest of the chapters.

For anyone wonder why exactly I decided to post this here, especially since, if you've followed some of my accounts on Fanfiction.net or AO3, I've posted this story up many times on different sites?

Simply put, I like feedback.

I love it when people let me know if my work is good, or bad. Cause it lets me know that my writing is actually accomplishing something. I have plenty of self confidence in my writing, but at the end of the day storytelling is a social thing. Telling a story to yourself, does nothing. And if you don't learn how people feel about your stories, you'll never know if you need to change something if you've got something right.

I know coming to SV isn't the best place to look for feedback, but it's the only one I know of with people who aren't directly connected to me and will give me straight criticisms.

Even if only 1 user likes my work, I know I'm doing something right here. Other sites, I just know that some people clicked on my story once or twice.

So, there's my real reasoning.

With that out of the way, on with the show!

Mike slammed the round animatronic into the metal desk. The sound echoed throughout the empty room making Jeremy put his fingers in his ears. The older night guard placed the grey tablet that controlled the cameras near Balloon Boy's face. He kept a firm grip on the animatronic's neck while speaking, "This is what you wanted isn't it?"

When the bot didn't reply, he slammed it against the table again. This time he yelled his question, "Isn't it!?" BB nodded as much as his robotic frame could with his neck held in a vice grip. The nightguard chuckled darkly, "So you can understand me, eh? Good to know. Now then, why don't you show me where your friends are?

Mike tapped the tablet with his left index finger. The device powered on with a staticky noise, revealing a slightly, static-filled picture. The room being observed was the Toy Room, where the box with the Puppet still lay smashed and broken. In the bottom left corner lay a simplified map of the restaurant with the names of the different main rooms in small boxes. The box with the office in it was symbolized by a blinking green light that never went out.

"Just tap on where your little buddies are, and I'll let you go. Won't even rip a limb off. Ok?" Mike stood there and waited for the animatronic to reveal his comrades' whereabouts.

However, five minutes passed, and BB hadn't moved an inch. Mike adjusted his hat with his left hand, then tapped on the tablet again, "Come on, now. We haven't got all night."

He was met with more silence. The only sound in the room was the monotone droning of the fan. Jeremy scratched the back of his neck as the tension in the room rose ever higher. His gaze kept flicking between his friend and one of the robots that had attacked them every night going on two months now. He kept fingering the flashlight at his side, wondering if he would even need to use it tonight.

As the silence dragged on for another five minutes, Jeremy spoke up, "Um, Mike? I don't think he's going to—"

He is cut off as BB is lifted from the table and crashes into the back wall. He starts to fall, before Mike slams into him with an elbow to the throat. The little bot struggles a bit, before Mike slams him into the wall again, this time cracking both it and some of the suit covering up BB's gears. As the crack makes it way across BB's eye, Mike growls in a feral voice, "This is your last chance you demented, balloon peddling, bastard. Tell me where they are, or I start ripping your circuitry out one by one."

Once his initial shock wears off, Jeremy realizes what his friend is doing and rushes towards him. He starts to pull at Mike's arm while yelling, "M-Mike! Calm down, calm down! You're going too far! There's no need to torture him!"

Mike sees his friend pulling at his arm and his features soften a bit. He shakes his head and sneers at the robot he has against the wall. He holds BB there for a few more moments, before sighing and throwing the robot back onto the desk.

The older Nightguard looks at the ground to avoid eye contact with his friend, "Sorry about that. But, what do you mean 'too far'?" He looks over at his comrade, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Jeremy, suddenly feeling very small underneath the scrutiny of his friend, starts to stammer out an answer, "W-w-well it's just that, uh, I-I know they've done some…. bad things to us. B-but do you really have to be so…… aggressive?"

Mike sighs while placing an arm around Jeremy's shoulders, "Jere, we've been—"

Before Mike could continue, the sound of a camera changing its viewpoint hit their ears. Quickly, they glanced at the desk, only to find it empty save for the tablet and fan on it. Mike dashed towards the left vent while Jeremy went to check on the tablet. The older Nightguard stared down the empty vent, cursing as he heard BB getting farther and farther away. He stood up and turned to look at his friend. His face turned from frustration to concern at the awestruck look on Jeremy's face.

Mike looked over his friend's shoulder…. only to snatch the tablet out his hands and stare at it with the same amount of awe.

The camera was set to Party Room 1, looking straight at the stage.

And standing on the stage, where almost all the animatronics. They stood side by side, with the only exceptions being the original Freddy and Foxy. Everyone else, even the repaired Mangle, original Bonnie, and original Chica were there. They stared straight into the camera with their cold, unblinking eyes and unmoving mouths. At the center of their formation was the black and white figure of the Marionette. Its elongated, clawed hands were holding up a large white piece of paper with three words written in black ink that ran all the way down the paper:

Come. Get. Us.

Jeremy brought a hand to his mouth at the sight of the message. He fell back into one of the chairs, trying to make sense of what was happening. The animatronics were calling Mike out? Why would they do that? Jeremy knew there was something more to them after what happened with the Puppet last night, but to do this? Don't they know what Mike can do? Why would they openly call him out—unless they have a plan.

A sudden, terrifying realization hit Jeremy just as he looked over at Mike. A pit formed in his stomach as he saw the manic grin on his best friend's face.
Before Jeremy could even speak, Mike was already fast walking towards the hallway. With speed he didn't think he had, Jeremy vaulted over the desk and grabbed Mike's right arm to stop his friend in his tracks. He shouted, "Don't Mike! It's obviously a trap!"

Mike firmly, but gently removed his friend's hands from his arm. He turned around and said, "Then what should I do, Jere? Just sit here and do nothing while they taunt us like this!?"

Jeremy was so nervous he could feel his legs shaking, but he couldn't stand by while his friend walked into such as obvious trap, "Well, eh, yes!" At Mike's incredulous look, he quickly continued, "Think about it, do we really need to fight them? All the animatronics are in the Party Room. It's almost 2:50. If we can just survive for three more hours we can go home. There's no reason to fight them."

"No reason to—have you forgotten!?" Mike's voice was barely low enough to not register as a scream, "Everything they've done! How many times have we been forced to huddle in a corner while they start closing in on us? How many times have we had to put on that stupid, Freddy hat to fool them? And worse still, how many Nightguards do you think they've killed up to this point? How many more they will kill if they finally get lucky one day and stuff us in a fucking suit?!

Mike grabbed hold of Jeremy's shoulders, "This isn't about survival anymore, Jeremy! This is more than that! This is about retribution! And I won't stand here doing nothing while they taunt us! And if it is a trap, so what? I'll fucking break out of it, no problem, and get back here before 6:00!"

With that, the oldest Nightguard patted his friend on the shoulders and turned to head down the hallway. Before he left, he looked back and nodded at his friend saying, "Trust me."

With that, he was gone.

Unable to find any words to dissuade his friend, Jeremy could do nothing but sit back down in his chair. He stared down the long, dark corridor after the golden glow of his comrade. Then it disappeared around a corner into the restaurant. Jeremy sighed while picking up the tablet and started switching through all the rooms in the Pizzeria. At the very least, he could keep an eye out and try to warn Mike if the animatronics had set something up in advance.

As the younger Nightguard tapped away on the device in his hand, the door to the Parts and Service area slid open. A hook reached out of the darkness, followed by a large, brown foot paw.

It didn't take long for Mike the reach Party Room 1. It was quite literally just around the left corner of the hallway to his right. He adjusted his hat before bursting into the open doors of the room. It was still the same, boring grey that it had always been, but this time the tables and chairs had been pushed up against the wall. The floors were covered in confetti and popped balloons that were almost invisible in the darkness. The lights were on, but they were so dim that Mike could hardly make out anything in the room…at least until he stepped inside.

The glow around his body lit up enough of the room to see all the way to the stage. There stood the Puppet, flanked on all sides by its entourage. To its left stood the newer Toy animatronics, their shiny, plastic bodies reflecting Mike's glow into all corners of the room.

At their center was Toy Freddy, his mike constantly being beaten against his palm in anticipation of what was to come. Toy Chica was to the left, cupcake gone with her hands crossed over her chest. Her beak was gone along with the plastic eyes that normally resided inside her head. Instead, her eyes were black pits with small white dots shining through them. To the right was Toy Bonnie, the blue rabbit holding his electric guitar like a bat. He gave it a few test swings while staring at the Nightguard as he walked into the room. And right above them all was the newly repaired Mangle, still as…well mangled as it always was. It hung from the rafters while making that same, static-filled noise that sounded like a corrupted phone line.

On the Puppet's right were the repaired Chica and Bonnie. Well, "repaired" was subjective. They looked the exact same from last night, but they were back to working order. Bonnie even had his arm back, something it demonstrated by miming crushing Mike's skull in his hand. Chica just rocked from side to side, her opened jaw attempting to close itself with each movement.

Mike raised an eyebrow at the fact that Freddy and Foxy weren't anywhere to be seen. He'd thought that after what he did to the duo, they'd get the first shot on him. Didn't matter much, but it was something he kept in the back of his mind.

Instead, he focused his attention on the only robot looking at him with any sort of real intelligence: The Puppet. It had placed the piece of paper with the challenge written on it at its feet. Its eyes never left Mike as it rose to its full height. Every one of the robotic monstrosities towered over the Nightguard and this one was no exception. It floated into the air as the strings on its back pulled it upwards using some invisible force. Its smile mask was curled downward in a frown along with its eyes. Its head moved back and forth like a clock until Mike stepped into the middle of the room. Then it stopped and raised up a clawed hand.

The entire room fell silent.

Mike scanned the animatronics that stood before him. He counted all of them and took out one of his cigarettes. He placed it in his mouth, took out his lighter with his right hand, and lit it up. He kept the lighter in the palm of his hand while he curled it into a fist. He took a single, long drag on the cigarette in his mouth. Then he let it all out with one puff.

As the smoke cleared away, Mike smiled at the creatures before him, "Only seven of you? Heh. I might actually have to break a sweat this time. But, before we start, I got something to ask you, Puppet Fucker." Mike pointed at the floating Marionette with his left index finger.

The Marionette tilted its head to the side to indicate it had heard him.

"Tell me this, how many guards have died before Jere and I got here?"

The Puppet didn't move for a few seconds as it looked through its memory banks to find the answer. Mike stood waiting, his eyes never leaving the robot.

Finally, it held up five long fingers as its face changed into a smile.
Mike looked at the bot's hand, then laughed out loud. He looked at the ground and shook his head, "Always thought it'd be a single digit number. Thought it'd be like three or
two or something like that. Was hoping it'd only be one. Not that it matters much, after all…."

Mike let the cigarette fall from his mouth onto the floor. Then he stomped it out immediately.

His cutting, angry gaze lifted up to the seven soon to be broken robots in front of him, "Even that, would've been one too many."

With the thunderous sounds of heavy metal feet hitting tiled floors, six animatronics rushed the lone nightguard in the middle of the room. The Puppet remained floating in place, both of its hands at his sides as it observed what the Nightguard would do.

Mike stood stock still with both his hands by his sides and his foot still on the spot where he crushed the lighter. He didn't give away anything about his current condition, even as the herd of metal robots closed in on him. He stood there and waited with his eyes on the Puppet the whole time. His gaze was firm and unmoving for the few seconds remaining until the animatronics reached him.

It was when Toy Bonnie's shadow passed over him did his eyes move away from the black and white ringleader.

He grabbed the neck of the instrument with his left hand and kicked out at the robot's knee with his right foot. The sound of metal creaking and shattering under intense pressure was heard, as Mike ripped the guitar from Toy Bonnie's hands. He brought it back until it was over his shoulder then swung with enough might to knock Toy Bonnie's head off.

As the blue bunny's head fell to the ground in slow motion, Mike ducked underneath a swipe from his predecessor's right arm. From below he saw a yellow, pointed foot coming for his eye from his right side. He fell to the floor and rolled away from the group to get some distance. The foot continued to follow him, soon joined by a brown paw that crashed near the left side of his head. With little room to maneuver, Mike swung out with the guitar that was now an improvised baseball bat.

He felt two legs give way and saw the falling forms of Toy Chia and Toy Freddy. Mike leaped to his feet just as Mangle dropped from the sky. A chill breeze made Mike feel the top of his head where his hat used to be. He looked back and a bluish streak flies into the air along with the amalgamation of parts.

Mike scowled up at the ceiling before something that felt like two metal rods fall against his outstretched arms. He crooked his head around to see the older Chica rearing her head back. The sound of mechanical footsteps made him jerk his head forward to see the older Bonnie rushing at him with a wound-up right arm. The lone red eye in the bot's head made trails in the darkness as it ran at Mike. Behind it, Mike could see the headless body of Toy Bonnie crawling its way towards its detached head, while the other Toy's were heading towards him too.

The Nightguard looked at the four robots surrounding him, felt how much give and resistance Chica's "wings" afforded him, and prepared his plan. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his back up against Chica's chest until she took three steps backward. This gave him the leverage he needed to pull his legs up into the air. As he expected, Bonnie's claw missed him by mere inches. Before the purple fuck could move away, Mike let his feet slam down on the robot's paw, hard. The force was enough to slacken Chica's grip, let Mike elbow her hard enough to send her flying back a few feet. The purple bunny's arm acted as a fine, metal bar that Toy Freddy and Toy Chica tripped over before they could stop their running.

Bonnie kept pulling at his arm to no avail. With a smile, Mike kissed the fist holding his lighter and turned to the animatronic in front of him, "Hey, Bunny Fucker. You feel a trip down memory lane?"

Bonnie's shriek was cut off as Mike punched his entire torso clear of his lower half. His arm and legs were the only things left while his body crashed against one of the tables set up in the corner. Mocking shaking his fist, Mike stepped backward and aimed the guitar in his hands like a javelin. The headstock acted as the point as he took aim at the light blue form of Toy Bonnie who had just gotten close to his head. Then, Mike chucked the instrument, impaling the Toy's torso into the floor. It fell silent as the eyes in its head looked towards the Nightguard with a blank stare.

The Nightguard smiled, before turning around and kicking the older Chica in the side. She let her wing fall to grip Mike's outstretched leg, but that just gave him the chance to jump up and kick her in the head with his other one. As she tumbled to the ground, Mike lifted his foot up in preparation. But just before he could bring it down on the bird's head, the felt something try and bite into his shoulder.

Emphasis on try.

Rather than pain, Mike only felt a slight pinch on his right shoulder. He turned and stared at the face of the Mangle, now wearing his Nightguard hat. Their eyes met for a moment. Mike reached up and took his hat back. Then he punched the robot so hard that it almost hit the Puppet as it floated above the stage. The Marionette caught Mangle in its arms before they crashed together.

Mike scowled at the floating bastard, before dashing over to where Toy Freddy and Toy Chica were picking themselves off the floor. They were next to some of the tables that had been set up against the walls and Mike took full advantage. He grabbed one and slammed it down hard enough to crack it in twain. The two animatronics found themselves smacked back into the ground by the force. Before they could stand, Mike, did the same thing with three more tables to be sure they wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

Confident that most of his opposition was either out of commission or in pieces, Mike turned his gaze to the Puppet. He pointed towards it with his right index finger and shouted, "It's just you and me now! Let's see what ya got, ya ugly bastard!" Mike's golden glow had been kept at a low light this whole time. It hardly illuminated more than the area below his feet. But now, as he jumped into the air towards the floating ringleader, it began to shine intensely. A mark that symbolized the sun as it shined in the sky at the peak of dawn shone brilliantly on his forehead.

Yet, even in the face of this glorious, golden demi-god flying towards it with a fist of fury, the Puppet's smile stayed on its face.

It wasn't until he heard the familiar scream did Mike understand why.

"MIIIKKKEEE!!!!"

Mike stopped in mid-air, his fist mere millimeters away from the Marionette's smug mask. As he fell to the ground his head swiveled to the entrance to the Party Room….and he felt his heart sink.

Jeremy was held in the grip of Freddy Fazbear, as Foxy held his hook up to the human's neck.

My thoughts on the chapters will still be a thing, but they'll be more about my thought process towards the chapter now that I'm not just looking at my old 12 to 13 year old work.

I didn't want to make another 1k word filler/cliffhanger chapter. I could tell that's what would've happened around the part with the "Come Get Us" sign. I felt like I had run out of steam, when I knew I hadn't really written anything at all.

So, I used this method I learned from a Skill Share class when it came to writing stories. I ended up writing over 3k words, within one chapter, within one night.

I am so glad I found this method, and plan to use it whenever I write a story from here on out.

Anyway, when it comes to this chapter, one thing I really wanted to get right was the fight scene. I had built up to it this whole time and it was time to deliver on it. I believe I did a good job. There was enough going on to keep things interesting, I showed how the animatronics could work together to try and fight Mike, and I showed how exactly Mike's Solar powers help him in this regard. I also reveal that he's a Dawn Caste in case anyone wasn't sure, though I doubt anyone who knows Exalted had trouble figuring that out.

Fun Fact: I actually tried to make an Exalted character sheet for Mike, cause I thought it would help me out. Then I realized, that was stupid, so I scrapped it.

As for the part with Jermey getting held hostage, most of you probably saw that coming. I mean, it is normally how this goes. If you can't beat the super powered man, go for the things he cares about. It's basic strategy, but I think it really works here.

And that's about it. Feedback, criticisms, and questions are welcome.

LinkOnScepter · Jan 13, 2019

Mike felt various emotions as he landed on the creaky, wooden boards that made up the stage. Chief among them was anger as he watched the bear hold Jeremy with his large, mechanical arm around the human's neck. Jeremy struggled in the animatronic's grasp, kicking his legs ineffectually at the bear holding him hostage. His hat had fallen off at some point, leaving his disheveled, revealing blonde hair.

Tunnel vision set in as adrenaline mixed with anger in his mind. He felt his fist tighten and hearing shorten until the only thing he could hear was the sound of Jeremy's struggles. Without any deliberation, he kicked off the stage to hit the ground running. His arms pumped with purpose as he went to save his best friend.

Almost as soon as his shoe hit the ground, Mike heard a sharp intake of breath come from his friend. He stared up in horror as Foxy's hook dug deep enough into Jeremy's neck to draw a trickle of blood. However, the sight of the dark red liquid only served to spur Mike on. He was certain he could get there and save his friend. He just had to move a bit faster.

Teeth grit in concentration and drive, the vivid nightguard put as much force behind his legs as he could. The image of Freddy's caved in face flashed through his mind as he rocketed towards the robot. He faintly saw Jeremy's lips moving, but he couldn't hear the words through his fugue. His fist was brought back in preparation to knock Freddy's block off again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw something glimmer in the air. He payed it little mind as he reached the middle of the room.

Then, pain lanced throughout his entire body.

His momentum abruptly came to a stop as long, black wires, completely hidden within the darkness of the room, hugged his body until they covered him from head to toe. A soft, stretching sound echoed through the room as the taut wire cut into Mike's skin. Faster than he could see, the wires were pulled back and brought him to a screeching halt.

Mike, his tunnel vision gone in the face of the pain and bleeding, grunted loudly at the sharp pain he felt. His entire body was on fire, his movements were restricted, and his hat had fallen from his head again. His right hand involuntarily opened, dropping his lighter to the ground with a soft ding against the floor. Mike twisted in his bonds to get out, but all it accomplished was digging the wire deeper into his skin. He grunted out, eyes flicking every which way to find the one who did this.

It couldn't be anyone of the animatronics he fought earlier. Each and everyone of them was in too much disrepair to do anything save aimlessly wander the perimeter of the room. Freddy and Foxy were in front of him, their permanent smiles mocking him as he struggled in the web of cables. That Balloon Fucker was no where to be seen, and he wouldn't be able to do anything like this anyway. That leaves—

"You acted just as I predicted," the low, mechanical, menacing voice came from behind Mike. He tried to turn his head to look behind him, but he could hardly move with the amount of coil around his neck. He was forced to watch as the Puppet elegantly floated above the wires and down in front of the captured nightguard.

Mike's eyes looked up and stared at the strings that connected the Puppet to the machinery in the roof. Jeremy understood more about the inner workings of that shit than he did, but that didn't mean he couldn't understand how this mechanical fucker managed this.

The Puppet daintily lifted Mike's chin with one hand. The wires connected to its fingers shifted, but not enough to let the human snap them in two. The animatronic examined Mike's face like he was a piece of meat much to his frustration. Eventually, the machine let his head drop, "You're not him."

Mike attempted to reply, but the coils around his neck tighten to silence him. He still manages to growl with enough threat to make the Puppet unwillingly step back. The room is filled with the sound of the other animatronics trying to put themselves back together. While Mike hand bent their outer shells in multiple places, some of which had wiring sticking out of the side, he hadn't put them all out of commission. Old Bonnie and Chica put their associated body parts back on with ease, while Toy Chica and Toy Frieddy started to pull themselves out of the ground. Even the Mangle was slowly making its way back into the ceiling. Part of its head was caved in, but most of the damage had been negated by the Puppet's intervention.

The Puppet floated towards Jeremy, its hand outstretched to grab him by the chin. Jeremy looked terrified but he didn't flinch when the Marionette got close. He stared down the white pinpricks that acted as its eyes without averting his gaze once. The Puppet got close enough to prick the smooth part of Jeremy's skin…then turned away.
"I know this one. It's not him, either. Foxy, Freddy, you know what to do," the Marionette said as it floated over Mike's body towards the stage, "We'll take care of Mr. Schmidt here. Make sure to hide their bodies everyone, kids shouldn't see thing like th—"

As it landed on the floor behind Mike the Puppet tugged on the strings wrapped around its fingers…and was confused. It tugged them again and felt…slack in them. But the only way for that to happen is if…

That was when he heard the snapping.

And the sound of blood dripping to the ground.

Everyone in the room watched as Mike Schmidt, slowly but surely, walked to his best friend.

Jeremy had a front row seat to what was happening to Mike. Freddy was gripping him hard enough to make sure he didn't slip away, but not enough to crush his windpipe…along with the rest of his torso. He could've gradually slid his way out of the bear's grasp if it wasn't for the pirate's hook stabbing into his throat.

He knew he couldn't do anything from the position he was in.

But that didn't make having to watch the events unfold hurt any less.

Jeremy had watched as Mike ran straight to him, saw the Puppet stretch out its fingers, then saw the gleaming wires reveal themselves in Mike's path. He yelled out a warning, but Mike couldn't seem to hear him. He was forced to stand by as the wires coiled around his friend's body and drew so much blood from him. He couldn't act at all as the Puppet proceeded to pass judgement on the both of them without so much as a second thought. As if their guilt had been decided from the start.

However, he hadn't given up. As they had seen, Mike can take more punishment than a normal human should be able to. Based on what the Puppet had said, the animatronics were planning to stuff them into suits. Jeremy couldn't survive that, but Mike could. He would wait until Freddy and Foxy left the room, find some way to slip away, and hide out until 6:00 AM. He hated the thought of leaving his friend behind but gambling on Mike's powers was their best option right now.

That plan was made through Jeremy's logical and rational thinking.

It was soon drowned out by the immense dread he felt at watching Mike force his way through the wires.

"Stop! Mike, stop! Y-y-you're going to die!" Jeremy renewed his struggles within the bear's grasp, not caring about the hook poised to piece his flesh. He did have a plan to gamble on Mike's powers, trust he could survive the pain, then break out of the suit to escape, but this was too much. The wires were stretched thin enough to slice through bone given enough time and Mike's actions expediting the process! And based on the steadily increasing trail of blood at the older man's feet, his powers couldn't help here.
Jeremy kept yelling, pleading for Mike to stop and let his body rest. However, every step Mike took snapped more and more wires every time. By the time he got past the tables, both of his arms were completely freed. However, they weren't clenched in fist of anger as the black strings fell from his hands. They hung limply at his sides, completely useless. His legs were next, followed by his torso, and finally his neck and head, until all the black coils snap and fall to the ground lifelessly.

Mike, blood staining his uniform black lumbered towards Freddy, his eyes firmly set on Jeremy. Foxy made to step in his path, before a weak but firm shove from Mike forced him back. The pirate was forced back slightly behind the bear as the nightguard stepped up to Freddy.

Jeremy stared into Mike's blood covered eyes. Where once there was life and vibrant expression, there was a blank stare. But his eyes were still shining with the embers of defiance, ready to perform one last action.

He reached up, grasped the arm that was holding Jeremy, ducked under the hook from the right arm, and pulled.

Jeremy hit the ground with a soft thud, standing in front of Mike.

Mike placed one hand on Jeremy's chest and smiled.

Then he pushed him out of the room, just when Freddy grabbed him by the back of his collar. Mike was thrown backwards into the Party Room, where he hit the ground hard. All the animatronics that could still move closed in. He managed to get to his knees and stare up at the various robots coming his way. He saw a shadow fall over his face as the Puppet descended into his field of view.

"Impressive, but ultimately futile," its mask was still smiling, "Don't worry though, we'll deal with you here before going after your friend. Any last words, Mr. Schmidt?"

Mike stared into the eyes of the Marionette as the other animatronics (sans Toy Bonnie and Balloon Boy) surrounded him. His head swiveled in a circle as he looked at each and everyone of their blank faces, before finally turning to their leader.

He lifted his head up and spat blood on the Puppet's face.

He smiled as the Puppet's mask shifted into a frown.

Next thing he knew, he was knocked to the ground by a fist from his right.

Jeremy scrambled to his feet outside of the room, using the wall as support to get to his feet. The room was too dark to see into from the hallway, but he could here the sounds of Mike being beaten to a pulp. A constant, wet, crunching and mechanical sound that echoed into his ears. He was breathing heavily, head whipping to and fro, trying to think of what he could do here.

His first thought was to run, so he started to make his way to the office. The Puppet had said that he would be next once they were done with Mike and it was obvious his best friend had done everything in his power to make sure he lived through the night. He didn't know what time it was, but he could easily find that out from the office. All he had to do was get into his chair and hold out. The music box was gone, but he could probably find something to fend off the Marionette.

As he got closer to the office, the sounds from the Party Room kept getting quieter and quieter. His pace was quick at first but slowed as he reached the corner that connected to the main hallway. His hand was on the wall while the other was held at his sides. Though he could hardly hear the beatdown, every little noise that reached his ears made him feel the pain. He flinched at each smack or crack that came his way. Eyes closed, teeth clenched, he tried to force himself to the office.

'Mike'll be fine,' he told himself as the crunch of bone came to him.

'He'll survive this,' he told himself as a bloody smack made his stomach churn.

'He can survive anything, he can—' at this point he stopped telling himself things.

Slowly, he stepped into the office. With its fan, tablet, chair and table.

He stared at the items on the table and reached out one hand.

Mike's eyes could hardly stay open anymore.

His arms and legs were broken in numerous places. His chest hurt and he had trouble breathing, he was pretty sure a lung was punctured. His back was covered in bruises, and everything was red with the color of his own blood. He had been in plenty of scrapes and been beatdown plenty of times. But he had to admit, this one was the worst of the bunch.

Didn't help that the animal fuckers knew how to follow up. One would punch him in one kidney, then the other would kick him in the second. They always followed each other's strikes ensuring that the pain never dulled. His body was destroyed, and he doubted that he'd even survive this. He could already feel his heart pumping slower and slower by the moment.

'Damn,' he thought as Mangle's teeth bit into the shoulder it couldn't damaged before, the skin weakened by his injuries, 'Was hoping I could last till 6. Sorry, Jere, but at least you're safe. I'll be seeing ya—"

A loud CLANG sound caused all of the animatronics to cease their attack.

They all turned to look at Freddy, who slowly turned around to look behind him. Mike lifted his head up as much as he could to see what had happened. His eyes were blurry with blood running down and catching in his eyelashes, but that didn't stop him from seeing the familiar form standing behind the bear.

Mike felt his stomach drop at the sight of Jeremy, entire body shaking in fear, holding the fan from the office in his hands like an impromptu weapon. The device was bent from where it had hit Freddy, but the younger nightguard still held it out in front of him for dear life.

He stood his ground, gulping as he tried to look threatening, "L-l-l-leave m-my best friend alone!"

Mike tried to tell him to run but all that would come out of his mouth was blood. He coughed as he tried to get to his feet. Pain shot through his body that nearly caused him to pass out. He heard Freddy's footsteps and ignored it.

'Come on! Come on! Get up!' he shouted in his head even though his body wouldn't listen. He looked up at the sound of Jeremy yelling, watching the blonde nightguard rush at the bear with the fan raised high.

Freddy backhanded him and sent him flying into the wall to the left.

Jeremy slid down the wall and slumped against it.

The bear turned to continue the assault against Mike…until the sound of metal being ripped open screeched throughout the room.

Freddy, feeling a change in his weight, looked down at this chest.

It was the last thing he saw being his entire body was ripped in half by the bare hands of Mike Schmidt.

The Puppet, completely floored by how this human was still moving, directed everyone to attack the nightguard. However, none of them would listen to the Marionette. His eyes kept swiveling between his friends, wondering why none of them would move. Mike was still bleeding enough to leave a trail on the floor, and he had just destroyed Freddy. Shouldn't they all be piling on top of him by now?!

The Puppet shout a furious glare towards Mike…and then he understood everything.

As Mike walked over to Jeremy, checking the younger man's pulse, the Puppet saw something behind Mike. The nightguard's golden glow was back and brighter than ever before. It illuminated the entire room, giving off enough light to burn away all the shadows in the room. The mark on his forehead was back and literally projecting its symbol onto the walls as Mike took his friend's body into his arms. But it wasn't any of this that gave the Puppet pause.

No, it was the figure standing behind Mike.

The Puppet had never seen anything like it. It stood tall enough to touch the ceiling, was armored from head to toe, and had gauntlets that looked like they could punch through even the thickest of walls. It followed Mike's movements exactly, as if it was an extension of the smaller man. As he stared at the transparent thing, the Puppet felt the exact same feeling he had yesterday when Mike had spoken to him during the day shift. The feeling of needing to apologize for everything that it had done. To go to the authorities, bear its heart to them, and be punished for the crimes it had committed.

For, as it caught a glimpse of the apparition's eyes hidden within its helmet, it understood one thing very clearly.

There would be no mercy from here on.

Only execution.

In the blink of an eye, Mike was at the entrance to the room, where he set Jeremy down on the floor. Then he was back in the Party Room, bending over and picking his lighter from the floor. In a panic, the Marionette tried to think of a way to escape. It remembered the vents and attempted to head for the roof…but its legs refused to obey it. They remained rooted to the spot as Mike picked up the lighter, wiped the blood from it, and turned his attention towards the remaining animatronics.

The six remaining animatronics finally got a full view of Mike's face.

His eyes were shining gold.

And, with one glance into those swirling pools of light, they knew they stood no chance.

With a battle cry that shook the very foundations of the restaurant, Mike shot forward towards the sinners he would bring judgement upon this night.

When Mr. Fazbear came to his establishment to welcome the day, he beheld a horrible sight.

In one of the Party Rooms, his two nightguards were slumped against the floor. One was lying in the hallway, his chest rising and falling steadily. The other was in a pool of blood with lacerations and bruises all over his body. His uniform was destroyed beyond any reasonable repair.

But what truly caused him to be furious, the primary cause for his distress, was the state of the animatronics.

There was hardly anything left of any of them.

No bodies.

No endoskeletons.

No wires, gears, or oil.

Nothing except for their severed heads impaled on the stage itself.

I give thanks to my brother for helping me figure out how to write this one. I was having trouble thinking of a sensible way to make Mike feel threatened here, and he's the one who came up with the wires.

LinkOnScepter · Feb 6, 2019

"And in a shocking announcement today, William "Fazbear" Afton, owner of the popular and lucrative children's restaurant chain, has temporarily closed down the latest Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. This comes as a shock to the community, considering the restaurant has been open 24/7 even during harsh weather conditions," the reporter's voice crackled slightly as it emerged from the hospital room's TV. Outside, a torrent of rain poured down to the earth in a staccato pattern. Dark clouds covered the sky, making what should be early morning sunshine feel more like a gray, gloomy afternoon.

Jeremy and Mike had their attention glued to the screen. Jeremy was on Mike's right, sitting in a chair with his uniform still on. He wasn't as hurt as his friend, so his clothes were still intact. He would scratch at his head as he watched the News with a nervous feeling in his gut.

Mike, on the other hand, was in the hospital bed with an I-V in his left arm. A heart monitor was sitting right next to it with its own wires and diodes placed upon his body. He sat up in bed in his green hospital gown. The older nightguard grunted and shifted in the bed while scowling at the TV.

The reporter continued, "While Mr. Fazbear refused an interview with us, he did give a public address to explain the shutdown."

The screen transitioned from a man behind the desk to a woman holding a microphone in front of the familiar, round form of Mr. Fazbear. His eyes kept darting to the side while he spoke to the reporter, "I regret to inform the public that Freddy Fazbear's will be closed for an indeterminant amount of time. Some…hoodlums broke into the restaurant last night and damaged the animatronics. The restaurant will remain closed until we can get repairs done. That is all."

The screen went back to the man, "That is all the information Mr. Fazbear shared with us. The police are already searching for anyone who coul—"

Mike hit the power button on the remote sitting on his bed. The TV winked off, causing the man to let out a sigh as he laid back against his pillow. He turned towards the younger nightguard at his side, "Jere, be straight with me, what happened last night?"

Jeremy started wringing his hands as he spoke, "Well…what's the last thing you remember?"

Mike shook his head, but smiled, "You're not supposed to answer a question with a question, Jere. But the last thing I remember was you getting knocked away by that fucking bear after you tried to fight him with a fan. Why'd you do that anyway? You knew it wouldn't work."

Jeremy looked down at the floor, "I-I wanted to help…"

"Hey, I'm not saying it was a bad thing. I just didn't expect something like that out of you. You did good," Mike saw the tension drain from Jeremy's body and continued, "After that, my vision went red, I lost control of my body, and charged right at that brown fuck. And from there, it's just blank."

Mike shrugged while indicating that Jeremy should tell his side of the story with a wave. The younger nightguard nodded, "I'm about the same. The attack knocked me out and I didn't wake up until I was in the ambulance. They took me to a normal hospital room since I didn't have any real injuries. The doctors say I have a minor concussion and some head trauma. But I should be fine as long I don't do anything too strenuous."

"Is that why they've got your head wrapped up like a Christmas present?" Mike indicated the gauze that wrapped all the way around Jeremy's head.

Jeremy scratched at the wrapping, slightly irritated by the dry sheets, "Yeah. They cleared me to leave today. I can go whenever I wish."

"And what about me? Do I have a green bill of health too?"

Jeremy flinched at the mention of Mike's condition. He fidgeted for a time before answering, "W-well they…they…the doctors say that you're almost completely healed. You should be able to get out of here in one more day. But—"

"Buuuttt?" Mike questioned his friend.

Jeremy looked Mike in the eyes, "They want you to stay for three more days after you're cleared."

"What?" Mike sat up a bit in his bed, "Why? Why would they want me to stay here after I'm cleared to go home?"

This time, Jeremy looked at Mike with a deadpan face. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before speaking, "Mike, by all accounts you should be dead."
Jeremy continued before Mike could say anything, counting off his fingers as he explained his point, "You had lacerations that went as deep as your ribs, two of which were broken and punctured your lungs. Your legs were twisted to a point where they were considering experimental treatments to get them working again. Your breathing had stopped a while ago, and they had figured most of your brain cells were dead before you even got to the hospital. Many of your vital organs were bruised, smashed, or leaking fluid into your body. All in all, you shouldn't have lived through the night. They were ready to announce you dead first thing in the morning. And then the very next day…"

Jeremy snapped his fingers, "You're immediately doing better. Your ribs? Repaired and pushed back into place. Your legs? Untwisted and healing at a healthy rate. Your breathing and brain cells? Completely, 100%, normal and healthy. Your organs? Sealed up and no longer leaking any harmful fluids at all. All this within one day. And today? You're holding a conversation with me as if you never got hurt in the first place!"

Jeremy let the implications of the situation sink in. Mike stared at his friend for a bit without any explicit emotion on his face.

Then he gave a sad smile, and Jeremy wished he could take back what he said.

"That so," Mike looked down at his hands, trying to sound upbeat, "seems I caused you some more trouble, eh Jere?"

Jeremy tried to speak, but Mike continued, "You were right, you know. I should've listened to you from the start. Those bastards had set a trap for us and I walked right into it. If I had just stayed in the room with you, I could've fought back that fucking bear and fox. Then, you wouldn't have been in danger. Instead, I let my damn pride and overconfidence get the best of me."

Mike looked at his right hand with its palm up, "I thought that now that I had this power, I could…stop it. Stop the constant fear that we both suffered all those nights. Let us have a normal job for once and avenge all the ones who came before us." He tightened his hand into a fist, "Guess it was just a pipe dream, huh? Sure, I took out the robots, but you got hurt and I nearly died. Not to mention that there's no way Fazbear will let us off the hook for this. He'll tell the police that we were the only ones that had access to the building last night, and they'll use that to connect us to the crime. Even if we can say we had nothing to do with it, I have no doubt our rich boss will 'persuade' them to find us guilty anyway. Don't even get me started on if he decides to sue us."

Mike's smile faded and his expression turned to despair as he ended his tirade, "I didn't think about any of this until after it was all said and done. And because of that, I've fucked us, Jeremy. I've fucked us hard.

"C-come on, Mike. It's not that bad. You saved me after all, and I'm sure that Mr. Fazbear will…um…" Jeremy was trying to cheer Mike up.

It wasn't working.

"No, Jere. This time, I'm screwed," Mike said while looking up at his friend.

Jeremy paused as he examined what Mike said, "Wait, 'you're screwed'? Don't you mean 'we're' screwed'?"

Mike shook his head, "No, Jeremy. I mean me. Fazbear still doesn't know exactly what happened back there. All he knows is that something happened between us and the animatronics. However, once the police investigate, they'll find my prints all over what's left of those robots. But not yours. The only thing you touched was the bent fan and at best Fazbear will take the money to fix it out of your paycheck. You haven't done anything worse than some minor property damage. Me? I'm looking at nine counts of major property damage at least. If I take all the blame, you get off scot-free. It's the least I could do for ya for putting up with me all this time and for putting you in danger."

"Mike…no…you don't have to…," Jeremy couldn't think of any argument that didn't sound illogical. The older nightguard was, objectively, right. There was no way Fazbear would let this slide. He's always placed his company and property over his employees. Why else would he force nightguards to stay quiet about the animatronics on pain of losing their jobs?

"Don't worry Jere," Mike pounds his right fist into his left hand, "I can take care of myself. Anyone who messes with me while I'm locked up, will get a huge surprise."

"But…but…no…no! I won't let that happen!" Jeremy yelled so suddenly that even Mike was surprised. Jeremy's eyes stared at Mike, water gathering on the edges of his eyelids, "You can't go to jail! Not now! Not after everything we've been through, everything that's happened over the last four months! I'll figure something out! I can talk to Mr. Fazbear, get him to drop the charges. Threaten to expose what we've been through each night to the public. I'll get his monetary records somehow, discredit him in the public's and investor's eyes. I'll—,"

Mike put a firm hand on his friend's shoulder, cutting Jeremy's tirade off. He spoke to his friend with a finality to his voice, "Jeremy, stop."

Jeremy froze up for a few moments. Then the tears started to flow as he turned towards the bed, unable to meet Mike's gaze, "I…I'm sorry, Mike. It…it's just…I don't want you to go. You're my best friend and you've done so much for me. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead ten times over now or have gone crazy from the constant horror every night. You're the only reason I've been able to fight as long as I have. If you're gone then…then I…I don't know."

"Jeremy, look at me," Jeremy looks into Mike's eyes. Mike gazes at his friend with conviction, care, and purpose as he speaks, "You were able to live through everything those fucking robots threw at you for how long? You said I've been with you for four months and last I checked, it's November. You held them off for almost a year, without me. Don't you dare say that you're useless without me there."

"But—"

Mike cut him off, "Heck, you're the one who figured out it was a trap in the first place. And the one who saw the wires long before my dumbass did. Not to mention everything you do outside of our job. Do I look like the kind of guy who can get his finances together?"

Mike shook his head at Jeremy, "Not in the slightest. You can handle yourself, Jeremy. If anything, you're my reason for fighting as long as I have. So, don't start putting yourself down over anything. Things will be fine, and I'll be out of the clink before you know it! So, cheer up!" Mike slapped Jeremy on the back and shook him in a friendly gesture.
Jeremy was silent and unsure for a few moments. His mind raced as he tried to think of something to say to argue Mike's point. But, in the end, he couldn't. Mike was completely right, as per usual. He couldn't help but feel slightly resentful of that fact.

Jeremy smiled sadly, wiping the tears from his eyes, "Alright, Mike. But I still don't know if I can do it." He takes a moment to think, then snaps his fingers, "How about we both promise each other something? I promise to stand on my own two feet while you're gone, and you promise not to cause too much trouble while you're in jail?"

"Jere, what makes you think I'm gonna cause any trouble?" Mike feigned being hurt for about two seconds, before letting the façade down and laughing alongside his friend. He composed himself and continued, "Yeah, sure. Sounds great to me. I'll be the best prisoner they ever had there. Shake on it?"

Mike held out his right hand and Jeremy eagerly took it. The two men shook heartily on their shared promises. Their celebration was short-lived, however, as just then the door to Mike's room opened.

Mr. Fazbear, still in his business suit with a face that showed all the repressed rage he felt, stood right outside the room with two police officers flanking him on either side. Mike and Jeremy separated as they shared a solemn look. The door to the room closed behind the three guests. The policeman on the right stepped forward, "Good morning, gentlemen. My partner and I would like to ask you a few questions."

Mike and Jeremy looked at each other, nodded, and told their story.

Within the halls of the shutdown Pizzeria, Balloon Boy's body was propped up against one of Party Room One's walls. Near him was the crumpled, battered, eerily empty, and yellow form of the originator of the entire Freddy Fazbear name.

Fredbear.

The suit was deactivated but seemed to stare at the center of the room with a burning intensity. One need only follow its gaze to understand why.

There, hovering about in the middle of the party room, were the spirits of the ten children. They congregated around the only parts left of their old bodies, their severed heads. Each one held their heads down in silence, the grey streaks running down their faces extremely prominent in the darkness of the room.

They each looked at Fredbear with uncertainty. The first spirit, the first victim, slowly emerged from the golden bear's body. It floated up to be with its companions as they gazed upon the remains of their old bodies. Before, no matter how much they were damaged, their gifted forms would always be repaired by the next day. They had lost limbs, heads, and even been cut in half. Yet, the bottomless pockets of the Fazbear Entertainment Franchise could fix them up no matter how damaged.

But this…this time it was too much.

The only thing left of their bodies were the heads.

It was easy enough to replace an arm or reattach that which has been removed. But rebuild nine bodies completely from scratch?

That was where Fazbear's generosity seemed to end.

It wasn't long before their shining forms began to dissipate. They each grew more and more intangible by the second. Their bodies weren't just their way to act upon the world around them, they were their anchors. With their robotic possessions and their bottomless desire for vengeance, they could keep themselves tethered to this reality.
But now, not only were their bodies gone, but their revenge was further away than ever before.

All thanks to Mike Schmidt.

The children, completely removed of any recourse they knew of, huddle together in the middle of the room. The eleven wayward spirits grouped together into a hug as their sobs began to echo throughout the empty building.

They stayed that way for five minutes, doing what they could to comfort each other as their souls started to leave this world.

And then, a voice whispered to them from the darkness.

What a pitiful fate that has befallen you, children.

The spirits all jumped in surprise and fear. The spirits of the Puppet and Golden Freddy looked around the room, herding the rest of the spirits behind them.

You tried so, so, so hard to find your killer, and now look where you are. Beaten by one man you had already broken.

The voice seemed to be all around them. They couldn't see its body, but they could feel its presence. It chuckled at their panicked states as it kept speaking in its raspy, sonorous tone.

You aware of the reason you lost? It is because of that man. Yes, that one man has inherited an extremely potent power. One I am very familiar with. I can give you the power you need to bring him to his knees.

The voice laughed loudly, this time with his voice concentrated into the Party Room.

That is what you truly desire. I can see it inside of all of you. You want to defeat that man. You want to break him. Destroy him. Humiliate him. Torture him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

The power to do so can all be yours. All you must do is swear to me. Swear to me that you will OBEY.

What say you, little children?

Ordinarily, the kids wouldn't have listened to the voice.

They had no reason to trust it at all. Half of them said as much to Golden Freddy and The Puppet. It wanted them to obey it, and they had no idea what that might entail. They had been led astray by a stranger's voice before and who's to say it won't happen again. Everything about the situation should've made them all say no.

But, they had nowhere else to turn.

This was their only lifeline.

The only way they could stay in this world.

The only way they could finally obtain their vengeance.

It didn't take much to convince all in attendance of that fact.

All eleven children silently agreed to the deal.

The last thing they heard was the insane cackling of the voice as their vision went black.

The sound of a window opening followed behind Vincent as he jumped through it. In his standard purple uniform, the wiry man chuckled darkly while dashing through the hallways. He moved with practiced ease, his experience from previous "acts" guiding his steps. He was careful to not disturb any part of the building that could be traced back to him while staying laser-focused on his task.

It didn't take him long to find the hidden Safe Room at the back of the Pizzeria. This place wasn't on any of the building plans nor the camera system. As far as the general public and standard employees were concerned, it didn't exist. Very few people know it lies within the restaurant, hiding in plain sight of all who pass by. Vincent was one of them and he had used this knowledge to the fullest these past nine months. No one had even raised an eyebrow when he took those gullible little brats back here and gutted them like fish. The looks on the dumbass parents' faces when they found out their precious children were gone were priceless. And now, with everyone warned away from this place, he could do it all again! The thought made him smile a toothy, unnatural grin.

Vincent covered his mouth with a hand to hold in his laughter as he approached the hidden door to the Safe Room. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the key to the door. He composed himself and inserted the key into the doorknob.

It was only then that he noticed the tiny flash that passed by his eye.

Then, pain shot throughout his entire body.

He tried to scream but multiple long, thin ropes shot down his throat, muffling his voice. He gagged on the intruding objects, his body shivering as something started to crawl underneath his skin. His eyes scanned the halls around him frantically to find the source of his sudden pain. The employee desperately struggled to escape his bonds but found his body would no longer listen to him.

Just when he thought he would pass out from the pain, Vincent heard footsteps approaching from behind.

He managed to turn his head far enough to see who it was.

His eyes widened in abject terror.

A light, sonorous voice declared, "Finally. We've found you. Now, everyone. What shall we do with him?"

That night, Vincent entered the closed down Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria…and never came out.

I actually was planning to come up with some reason Mike and Jeremy got off scot-free together, but decided against it. I put the two ideas side by side to see which one would help the story more. And, in the end, having Mike go to jail was the winner.

I won't actually dedicate any chapters to Mike's time in jail. I'm planning to time skip until he's out for the next chapter. Just as a head's up.

LinkOnScepter · Aug 5, 2019

Mike takes his first step out of the prison in two years. He looks up at the sky with his new "proper" clothes on. The pressed, blue button up shirt and brown pants with matching belt felt stifling in the summer sun. He ran a hand through his much shorter black hair, letting the sweat slick it back slightly. His beard had been shaved, leaving his chin completely exposed to the elements. In his other hand he held the straps of a green bag with what little belongings he got once he was out. Some cash, a t-shirt, sweatpants, and worn tennis shoes.

His body was much different than it was when he first entered the facility. His pale skin was tanned by his activities. His muscles were much more defined and could be seen through the tight shirt on his body. They were mainly concentrated on his upper arms and legs, making him look slightly uneven. He cracked his neck while looking down both sides of the road, his ears open for any coming traffic. He sighs and glances at the guard to his left. The prison guard was the picture of what someone of his position should be. He stood tall, both hands behind his back and hat sat straight on his head. He kept one eye on Mike and other on the road heading towards the prison.

Mike scratched his neck thinking back on his "relationships" with the guards in the joint. They weren't very good ones, mainly due him always getting put in solitary for "causing trouble".

What they called trouble, he called defending himself. But give certain guys a fancy shirt and tell 'em they're in charge, and they think they can do whatever they want to you. Out of all the guards he had dealt with while doing time, only two hadn't gone made with power. Those two were cool and would be the only ones who spoke up for Mike when he was being punished. Made conditions in there a bit more bearable.

The former nightguard arches his back while yawning to keep his body moving. He's noticed his body has had much more energy ever since he was in the prison. Couldn't exactly let his guard down at any moment. Just about everyday had him on edge and waiting for the next attack. Not something that's going to go away overnight.

Just as Mike stopped stretching, the faint sound of a car's engine reaches his ears. The guard's head swivels towards the east to stare down the road. Mike does the same, watching as a silverfish car rolled to a stop right in front of them. Like clockwork, the guard stepped in front of Mike and bent down to investigate the car's driver side window. Before he could say anything, the window rolled down and revealed a young face with a blonde beard and mustache combo.

The guard coughed into his hand before speaking, "Name and proof of identity, please."

The young man handed the guard a license while speaking a much deeper, yet still slightly girlish voice, "Jeremy Fitzgerald."

Mike lifted his eyebrows in surprise, but he refrained from dashing forward to take a closer look at his bud. Wouldn't want the Boy in Blue here to get the wrong idea and come up with a reason for him to stay longer.

The guard made a show of inspecting the card, constantly looking between it and Jeremy. The man's blonde hair had lengthened and now reached the base of his neck. He rolled his eyes as the guard finally gave him his license back.

The man turned towards Mike and beckoned him over with a scowl on his face. Mike walked forward as the guard began to speak, "Everything seems to be in order. Remember, you're on parole, not off the chain. Speak with your officer and make sure you don't step out of line. Cause if you do…," he jerks a thumb in the direction of the prison to punctuate his statement.

Mike rolls his eyes while nodding along with whatever the man says. He walks around the front of the car and gets into the passenger side. The second he closes his door, Jeremy hits the gas and takes off down the road.

The two men sit in silence for a long time. Both keep glancing at random things on the road or in their hands as they search for a good conversation starter.

Mike is the one to break the silence, "So…got a car, huh?"

"Around last year," Jeremy says while casually turning a curve.

"It's spacious, sounds nice, rides smooth. Didn't you say you wanted a speedster? Like a Jaguar or something."

"Well sometimes priorities change," Jeremy adjust the central mirror slightly, "Got a better job than the old one. Pays a thousand times better."

"I'm absolutely positive anywhere paid better than that place."

Both men chuckled at the joke, then lapsed into silence again. Jeremy turned right on an intersection before his spoke, "So, what about you? How was…you know?"

"Prison?" Mike cut right to the chase, leaning back in his seat, "Bout what you'd expect. Shitty food, shitty people, shitty everything. They're not exactly nice places to be."

"Oh," Jeremy was quiet as he thought about how to approach the subject he was getting at delicately, "Did, uh…did any of… "that" happen to—"

"Hell no," Mike said those two words with a finality, "Like I would let any douchebags do that to me. They tried to, oh they did. Failed every time. Thanks to these two right here."

Mike clenched his hands into fists then kissed his knuckles, "They were some of my only real friends in that joint. Never let me down, not even once."

Jeremy glanced at his friend out of the corner of his right eye, then started to chuckle again, "Looks like you haven't changed a bit, Mike."

"In comparison to you, 'Mr. Successful'." Mike points two fingers at Jeremy while winking.

Jeremy shrugs, but smiles too, "It's nothing special. Just got lucky enough to land a good, stable job at an actual restaurant."

"Really?" Mike put an elbow near the window while holding up his head with his hand, "You a busboy? No offense, but you kind of have a face that would lead people to think that, Jere. Even with the face fuzz."

"You're close. I started as a busboy. But, unlike our old job…," Jeremy says while pulling into a driveway. He parked the car, took off his seatbelt, and looked at his friend with a smile full of pride, "This one wasn't a 'dead end'."

Mike got out of the car at the same time his friend did, eyebrow raised in confusion. When he stepped onto the concrete of the driveway, he beheld a sight that made his jaw drop.

Jeremy stepped over to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. It was only now that Mike noticed that Jeremy was as tall as him, "Say hello, to our new home."

Mike could do nothing but stare at the two-story house, covered in windows, lights, and with three, white garage doors staring back at him.

"God damn it!" Mike falls backwards onto the three-seater sofa in the middle of the living room. He kicks off his shoes and lets them fall to the ground, too frustrated to put them in front of the door. Greyish light seeped through the curtains into the well-lit room. Mike turned onto his side, letting his arm flop onto the glass table a couple of feet in front of the sofa. He looked towards the medium sized TV set up against the wall a couple of feet from the window. The black box silently reflected Mike's image back towards him.

He had long since replaced his business casual shirt and pants with something that was more his style. A simple red t-shirt with black and gold shorts that covered his thighs. Worked as both everyday clothes and workout clothes. Plus, it made it less obvious how jacked he was now. Bout the only thing he could do in prison was workout, so he had done so with impunity. Had to make sure his muscle didn't suffer atrophy while he was in the joint.

His beard was coming back, he could feel hints of stubble whenever he rubbed his chin. Same with his hair though at a slower rate. It would take a while get his old hair style back.

He glanced at the table and picked up a Sports Illustrated magazine. Just as he was about to open it, a knock on the wall caught his ear. He looked up and saw Jeremy standing in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, a thick book under one arm and a brown box in both hands. On top of the box was a plate of freshly made Pizza Rolls.

Jeremy smiles while walking towards the sofa, "Didn't get the job?"

"How could you tell?" Mike asked while shifting to let his friend sit down.

Jeremy sat on the center seat and placed the box on the glass table while keeping the book in his lap.

"You always reach for the Sports Illustrated when you're feeling frustrated. Want one?" Jeremy indicates the rolls.

"Am I really that predictable? And hell yeah I do," Mike instantly grabbed three of the hot rolls and popped one into his mouth. He savored the flavor for a bit before swallowing.

"No, it's just that this is the fifth time you've done it after coming home from an interview," grabbing one of the rolls himself, Jeremy moved the plate from the top of the box to the table, "Why did they refuse you this time?"

"Same reason as the others, though none of them had the balls to admit it," Mike said while swallowing the third of his rolls, "I'm a convicted felon. A criminal. So what if I got out on parole for good behavior, they're not gonna risk their hide for me."

Mike sighed as Jeremy nodded, "Figures. You know you don't have to do this, right? I make more than enough money to support two people."

"And you know I couldn't do that Jere. I don't wanna mooch off you."

"You could get a job at my restaurant," Jeremy taps the sofa, "As you can see, they pay pretty well, and I can put in a good word for you."

"Thanks, but no thanks man," Mike leans forward while grabbing more Pizza Rolls, "Once they find out I'm a felon, your rep would hit the floor. That and it would make it harder for me to build up a relationship with the rest of the employees. Some felon who only got hired cause the boss pulled some strings? I'd get more than just bad looks."

Jeremy shakes his head, "Mike, you're not exactly making this easy. After five rejections don't you think that, I don't know, you should give it some serious thought? I can take whatever flack my superiors throw at me for it and it's a safer bet than continually putting in for jobs you know won't take you."

Mike hangs his head in sympathy, "Sorry, Jere. It's just…it's something that I've gotta do on my own. It's the principle of the matter."

An uneasy silence falls over them both. The rolls sit undisturbed for a few minutes, as if grabbing another would mean restarting the conversation.

Mike reaches out and grabs another roll while sitting up and smiling, "Oh yeah, I met my Parole Officer."

Jeremy looks towards his friend, thankful to have the subject changed, "Really? How are they?"

"She's pretty cool. Her name's Alice. Remembered me from back when I saved that lady. The one being attacked by that creep on our way home? She decided to cut me some slack thanks to that little good deed. Not much mind you, but she won't be breathing down my neck," Mike places his arms behind his head with a smug smile, "Guess being a hero does have perks."

Jeremy's expression gets a bit dark, "Actually, that's what I've been meaning to talk to you about. Your powers." Jeremy makes air quotes with his hands when he says powers. He opens up the large book on his lap after moving the rolls off the box on the table.

Mike sits up as Jeremy starts flipping through the pages of the large book. He notices that the edges of the pages have literal flowers painted on them, and the paper changes colors whenever Jeremy gets to a new section or chapter. It starts out whitish with a hint of grey, before shifting to a sky blue with tiny black dots on it. Many of the pages were covered in long walls of text that Mike felt would give him a headache if he read them for any long period of time. Judging by the glossy hardback and pristine condition of the book, it must've cost Jeremy a pretty penny.

He stops on a page and holds it up for Mike to see. He points at the top of the page and ask, "What do you see here?"

Mike examines what his friend was pointing at, "It…looks like a sun. There's a hole in the middle, but yeah it's the sun."

"Right. And below that, it has the word 'Dawn'," Jeremy moves his finger to the word, "This is a Caste, a sort of 'class', in this RPG called Exalted."

"Huh. Is that what the book you're holding is? Where'd you get it?"

"That game store we used to pass by on our way home from work. It's called Comet and they sold it to me for about eighty dollars."

Mike whistles, "Wow. Never thought I'd see the day you had the cash to burn on something like that."

Mike could swear he sees a hint of pride flash through Jeremy's eyes, before he continues, "So, what does this have to do with my powers?"

"If I'm right, everything," Jeremy says as he picks up the remote and turns on the TV. The sound of the News Report comes on as he gets ready to stand.

Suddenly, Mike grabs Jeremy's hand to stop him from moving. His eyes were wide with slight panic as he pointed at the TV screen, "Dude, are you seeing this?"

"Seeing what?" Jeremy's brows furrow in confusion, until he sees what Mike is pointing at. Then they open wide in dread.

There, scrolling across the bottom of the screen in bright white text were the words they both hoped they would never hear;

Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria: Grand Reopening!

"And our Top Story today," the News Anchor spoke with a happy smile, "Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, the popular Pizza joint for children, is having its Grand Reopening tomorrow. The family-oriented restaurant chain, famous for its state-of-the-art animatronics, closed two years ago after an employee destroyed the mascots for unspecified reasons. However, it is finally coming back to entertain children once again. We now take you to our agent in the field Ms. Julia Nanam."

The screen changed to show the same woman that Mike had saved two years ago standing in front of a camera. He'd only met her for a few minutes, but the red hair and green eyes were hard to forget. She stood there with a black jacket, shirt and skirt combo with a genuine smile on her face.

"Thanks Tom!" she turned to look towards the familiar face of Mr. Fazbear at her left, "I'm here with the owner of the restaurant chain himself, Mr. Fazbear. Tell me, what made you decide to reopen after all this time?"

Fazbear hardly looked any different from the way he had two years ago. His mafia-esque suit and pants still gave off a feeling of dread, though it was muddled in the afternoon sunlight. His pudgy body matched his face, the fake smile accentuating his joules as he spoke, "Well, Ms. Nanam, we previously shut down thanks to the horrid vandalization of our beloved animatronics. They were so damaged that we didn't have the funds to repair them in a timely manner, however last year we had a very generous donation from a benefactor who has requested to remain anonymous. Thanks to them, we were able to not only repair the mascots but give them a complete redesign!"

Julia's eyes widen in surprise, "Really? Can you tell us anything specific about these new designs?"

"I'm afraid not," Fazbear holds up a finger, "you'll just have to wait until-"

The TV turned off.

Jeremy sets down the remote.

He closes the book and places it on top of the box.
Then he lets himself fall backwards onto the sofa. His body sinks into the leather while a hand goes to his hair. He shakes it while squeezing his head in one hand, "Ho-how could they've rebuilt so quickly. I thought it would take them two more years at least."

Mike was just as dumbfounded, but that was drowned out by anger and frustration. He crossed his arms with a sneer on his face, "I'm more concerned about this 'benefactor'. After all the shady shit that goes on around that fucking restaurant, who the hell would want to support it by this point? Let alone with enough money to repair and retrofit those fucking bastarding robots!"

Mike's fist hit the table once, causing the plate of rolls to jump. Jeremy caught it just in time to stop them from falling to the floor. He sighed with relief then placed them back down on the glass. He looked at his fuming friend with worry gathering in his stomach. He could feel the same helplessness and fear rising up in his chest again. It was like seeing that place coming back had made his old self resurface. He hated that feeling but seeing that News Report just…got to him.

And if that's how he's feeling, imagine what Mike is-

"I know what you're going to say Jere," Jeremy's head shot up to look at Mike. Mike's eyes were staring into his, "And I'm saying it right now; We are not going back to that place. I can't cause I was convicted for the very thing that closed them down. Fazbear was very clear about me never coming near that restaurant ever again. Besides, if I go back I'll just fuck something else up for the both of us. You can't go back cause you have a better job than that place ever was or will be."

"Yeah," Jeremy said, straightening his back against the sofa, "but what about the kids or the new nightguard?"

Mike smiled, leaning back and placing two hands behind his head, "Don't need to worry at all. First, those things had no interest in harming the kids. They had plenty of chances to do so and, really, there wasn't a lot anyone could do to stop 'em. No, they wouldn't hurt the kids now or ever. Second, while I can't exactly remember what I did, I do know that I broke those sons of bitches good. Even if they are repaired, there's no way they'll be the same as when we were there.

He sweeped a hand across the room, "And that's all there is to it. Really, we're not needed there anymore, Jere. That place is our past and it's a shitty one at that. We don't need to let it define our future."

Jeremy stared at Mike for a few moments. Then he started to chuckle, "And here I thought things were different. Yet, here we are again. You lecturing me and I just sitting here listening."

"Hey," Mike patted Jeremy on the back, "things have changed. Wouldn't you normally be the one telling me to not go back?"

Jeremy returned Mike's gesture, "Guess you're right. Looks like we've both changed a little bit." The two men laughed, the feeling of camaraderie strong between them. The two prepared to relax a bit, as Jeremy got ready to continue reading from the book.

The sound of knocking came from the front of the house.

Both men looked towards the door, then at each other with their eyebrows raised.

"You expecting someone?" Mike asked while standing up from the sofa.

Jeremy shook his head while getting up as well. He headed towards the door with Mike following behind him. They heard two more knocks against the white door as they reach it. Jeremy squinted his eye as he looked through the peephole at the top.

His eye widened as he saw someone he never thought he'd see again.

"Fritz," he whispered as the man beyond the door began to speak.

"You there, Jeremy, Mike? I've got a job offer for the two of you."

Sorry it's been a while. I've managed to write three new chapters for this. Just never posted them up here, cause I didn't get the reactions I expected.

But, when has that stopped me from posting? I'll put the other chapters up soon.

The Exalted Guard (FNAF X Exalted)

Should I continue this? Posting Up the already written Chapters, then writing up the rest?

Yes

No

Do whatever you want

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