Mike pulled into the lot early, same as every morning. Neighboring businesses were still dark. Employee cars were already there, lights on inside. The air was cold, the kind of cold that didn't bother him anymore.
He'd been coming here for weeks. Learning the layout. Meeting the staff. None of it is official—just prep work. He got out and walked inside.
The building smelled like fresh paint and pizza dough. Nancy was already moving through the back hallways with her clipboard. She was the manager—sharp, efficient, the kind of person who didn't need to raise her voice to get things done. Dominic, her assistant, stood near the stage, checking something on a clipboard of his own.
Mike didn't need to follow either of them. He knew the route.
He ended up near the prize counter, checking the shelves out of habit. The dining room was already prepped. Tables wiped. Chairs straight. Nothing left to do but wait.
Ralph found him there, coffee in hand.
"First official day. You ready?"
"Thrilled." Mike didn't look up from the shelf.
Ralph leaned against the counter, in no hurry to leave. "You've been here, what, three weeks now?"
"Something like that."
He took a sip. "I've been working with the company since the first Freddy's location. I do the training tapes and phone calls. They nicknamed me the Phone Guy." He laughed a little. "Which is funny, I guess. Anyway. You get used to interesting things after a while. This location's nice, though. Clean. Good stage setup. The robots are really something, aren't they? The engineering. Very impressive."
Mike glanced toward the stage. Freddy's eyes stared back, empty and glassy. "Yeah. They're something."
Ralph didn't seem to notice the edge in his voice. "The new night guard starts tonight. Maxine. Nancy wants me to record a message for her before I leave. Basic stuff. Navigating the building at night. The free-roam mode—how it works, why they do it. Cameras. Doors. Power limits." He took another sip. "Should be pretty straightforward."
Mike didn't respond. Straightforward. Right. Six hours in a dark room with nothing but a monitor and two doors. He remembered how straightforward that was.
Ralph must have taken his silence for doubt. "I mean, it's not exactly exciting. Mostly, you just sit there and watch the cameras. Make sure the robots don't wander into anything they shouldn't. It's quiet. Boring, even." He shrugged. "She'll be fine."
"You don't sound sure."
"I'm always a little nervous on opening day." He laughed, a little too high. "Big day. A lot is happening. But everything's been running smoothly. Nothing to worry about."
Ralph lingered, like he was hoping Mike might say something else. Mike didn't. "Anyway." He cleared his throat. "Good luck today. The first days are easy. Tables. Chairs. Very straightforward."
"Can't wait."
Ralph hesitated, still not sure if Mike was joking. Mike didn't clarify. Ralph walked off. The same voice from that phone call six years ago. Still sounding as nervous as usual can't tell if it was a good thing that he didn't recognize Mike's voice.
Mike finished checking the shelves and moved on, walking the route he'd walked every morning for weeks. Past the dining room with its empty tables and wrapped party hats. Past the restrooms. Down the back hallway toward the storage areas.
The safe room door looked like part of the wall. Mike knew it was there. He'd been inside during training. The fake wall for budget reasons—cheaper to seal it off than to wire it into the security system. The room off the blueprints and out of the animatronics' programming. Mostly storage now.
The Spring Bonnie suit hung in the corner. Old. Worn. Faded yellow fur, frayed stitching, half an ear missing. The cage was visible through the gaps in the fabric, springs rusted at the edges. Kept out of sight.
He didn't stop; the old spring Bonnie suit was the least of his concern for now; he had to focus on annoying customers.
Back in the dining room, the stage lights were up. Freddy stood ready at his microphone. Bonnie's guitar hung from its strap. Chica held the pink cupcake in her hand, its plastic eyes blinking, then went still. Foxy's curtain was closed, the servos humming behind it. Everything in place. Waiting.
Greg was at his laptop near the backstage door, watching the readouts. Mike stopped on his way past.
"Is everything good here?"
"Yes, everything is working as it should. We can't have the same problem that happened in the last location happen again."
Greg snorted and went back to his screen. Mike moved on.
Nancy caught him near the arcade. "Hey. Walk to the emergency exits. Make sure they're clear. The fire marshal's been strict."
Mike made the rounds. The exit near the loading dock was clear. The one off the back hallway was fine. No obstructions. Everything up to code. He reported back to Nancy, who checked something off her clipboard and looked slightly less nervous.
The clock ticked closer to ten. Mike straightened a few pieces of merchandise and made sure it looked promising enough for people to buy. Derek adjusted his apron for the third time. Susan counted her register twice. The kitchen doors swung open and closed as Maria called out temperatures and timers.
Nancy appeared near the entrance, checking the front doors one last time. "Five minutes. Everyone in position."
The staff shifted. Derek took his spot near the arcade. Susan straightened her register.
Mike found a spot near the back of the dining room. He could see everything clearly from where he was: the clear view of all the tables, the stage, and the restricted areas.
Then Nancy's voice came over the intercom. "Alright. Showtime."
She unlocked the front doors and pushed them open. The crowd outside surged forward—families, kids, parents with strollers. A line had formed before sunrise. Freddy's wasn't just a pizzeria. It was a brand.
The dining room filled in minutes. Kids bolted for the stage. Parents claimed tables. The arcade lit up. The smell of pizza hit the air as the kitchen doors swung open.
Mike stood near the back, watching the chaos unfold. Freddy's head turned in a slow, steady sweep across the dining room, his eyes catching the light. Bonnie's head tilted toward the nearest table, his gaze landing just above the children's heads. Chica's beak opened for the first song, the cupcake's eyes moving around and blinking.