Hey guys! This is my first ever Five Nights at Freddy's fanon! I couldn't sleep, so I drank a ton of soda and wrote this oneshot.

Rated T for disturbing concepts. Also, SPOILERS! If you haven't seen the ending of FNaF 3, DO NOT READ!

I'll link some YouTube walk-throughs at the bottom.

Stephanie's Signature

Life Saver, or Life Ruiner? Edit

I surveyed the room. There was a small desk and a card table and three mismatched wooden chairs. There were faded Freddy Fazbear posters on the wall of the office. It looked almost exactly like the security offices in previous locations, right down to the dark appearance. There were no pizza stains or grease, but that could change, as there was still work left to do on the building. If it were going to be authentic, it couldn't reek of straight bleach.

It was just a matter of time before the new people came to me, searching for information. Or or anything, really. I had disposed of the company fairly well, in my opinion. Sweeping things under the rug had become one of my specialties. And as for my secrets, well, I wasn't an open book.

I hadn't been the C.E.O. per se. But for all the work I put into Fazbear Entertainment, I might as well have been. I did everything. I redesigned the layout of the buildings, I oversaw the remodeling, I oversaw the revitalization of the mascots, I hired and fired employees, I helped train people, I made pizzas, I signed the paychecks. I just didn't get the salary that came along with being the representative of the company. Or maybe I didn't have the right look. Or maybe it was just because of society at the time. I was a female trying to work in a man's field.

"Thank you for coming," the young man before me said. We sat at the card table and there were pictures laid across it. I wasn't going to look at them until prompted to do so. I wasn't going to budge. The company was basically mine and I could choose what I shared.

"It's a pleasure," I said quietly. The atmosphere was making me jumpy. It was the opposite of a Freddy Fazbear's Pizza in the sense that it wasn't very fun looking or sounding. Dead silence was not regular occurrence at the typical pizzeria, even after hours. This was obviously a haunted house.

"So what do you think?" the young man asked excitedly. "Isn't it so awesome?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Enthusiasm was not my cup of tea and this person looked like he would bust out in song and choreographed dance. "I'm not much of a horror junkie," I answered, sounding annoyed unintentionally.

"That's cool! That's cool! I understand!" the man responded. "I'm just so excited for this, uh, place to open! I've been working on this place for so long. We've made it as antique as possible. Does it feel familiar?"

The seventies and eighties weren't ancient. In 1987, I was seventeen. Apple was around, their products just weren't as potable as the present designs. And that was really the only connection I could make at that moment. I didn't get out much.

"It does feel familiar," I agreed, when my gaze landed on the security monitor. I flinched. Hopefully there wasn't a real need for a security monitor in this joint. Hopefully a security guard was simply an actor in this place, rather than a protector. How many security guards would this place lose? None, if they had no animatronics.

"Why did you call me here?" I asked, not wanting to beat around the bush. There wasn't a day that passed where I didn't think of Freddy or his friends at least once. It was my life for almost thirty years. I didn't want to self loathe if I didn't have to.

The man laughed. It sounded uncomfortable. "They told me to expect bluntness with you, ma'am, but I wasn't actually prepared for it," he explained.

I raised an eyebrow. I couldn't blame anyone for warning him. I could be intimidating. It made me wonder, however, who this man had spoken with. "Do I need to repeat myself, or are we on the same page?" I asked.

The man shifted in his seat, adjusting his posture. His tone became less friendly. "I'm sorry," he replied.

"Don't be sorry. Just fix it," I said, trying to be reassuring. It wasn't my strongest skill.

He nodded. "Of course. Uh, well, I called you here because I needed help."

"That much I know. But with what aspect of the business?" I asked, unable to stop the eye roll that time.

"I'm looking for, uh, something huge. Something bigger than just signs and, uh, posters and junky costumes and stuff. I'm looking for an animatronic," he answered.

"Um… I can't help you with that, sir," I said, shifting into the I-can't-divulge-any-company-information formality.

The man picked up on the sudden shift in my conduct. He was silent for a moment and the only sound was our breathing and the whir of the crappy fan on the desk. "Does that mean there are some left?" he asked.

"Sir, I am not authorized to share any information about Fazbear Entertainment with anyone," I replied, keeping my voice as level as possible.

"Ms. Susan, it has been decades since the company disbanded."

"Please, call me Sue," I said as a distraction. I really didn't mind what he called me.

The young man shifted his gaze down at the photos on the table. "Okay, uh, Sue. I found some photos of the restaurants after they were shut down, if you will look at them with me," he said. He had obviously rehearsed this. "I was particularly interested in this one here…"

He pulled out a photograph of something I immediately recognized. It was a place in the wallpaper that was in oddly good condition, despite years of abandonment, which had been in all of the locations. It was a place that filled me with dread. I had seen the terrors of what was inside one, when we had made the mistake of opening one up. Hopefully there were no pictures of that.

Apparently I had the reaction he was hoping for. "Did you ever see what was behind one of these walls?" the man asked.

"It's just a random spot. It was only in one shop. Where did you get these?" I said, glaring at him. What did he not understand about my predicament?

"Public record and some, uh, former employees had some of the things you see in here. The posters and what not. When were you hired to Fazbear's?" he asked.

"I, uh-"

"It's not about the company. I just want to get to know you, Sue," the man tried.

How much should I really share? Who really even cared about me? I had no friends and no family of my own. After we were shut down, I shut down. It was rather depressing. But suddenly, why did any of that matter?

Why did the legal stuff even matter anymore? And was it still even relevant? There was no way Fazbear Entertainment was coming back. There was no more Freddy or Bonnie or Chica or Foxy. There weren't many remaining buildings. The animatronics had been disassembled and the pieces sold or discarded over time.

Or maybe there weren't as many legal things as I had thought. We hid things fairly well. With the policy, we waited until the very last moments to file for anything. Like the missing person reports. File them within thirty days. We'd sometimes push the deadline a bit. An entire building would have to be brought up to health code, which wasn't always easy.

"I worked at a Freddy Fazbear's Pizza in the eighties. Well, there was actually only one restaurant at that time. You probably know about the Bite of '87. I wasn't there. I knew it was just a rumor but they closed the place down. I got laid off, of course and I didn't hear anything about them for years.

"Then I went to college for business and architecture. After I graduated, a man who had connections with the old restaurant contacted me. They wanted me to work with them. They offered me a lot of money. A lot for a brand new graduate like myself. They told me that they had decided to reopen some restaurants and they wanted me to design some new ones, if this reopen was a success. It was basically my dream job," I said, sighing at the memory.

"So what happened? You went in to, uh, examine the buildings, right?" the man asked, listening intently.

"With a team of people, yes," I answered. "After we we repurchased them from the bank."

"And you found these walls?"

I stayed quiet for a moment. "Just the one restaurant. It was only in one location," I replied, sticking to the original story.

The young man picked up four more photos. They looked almost identical to the first. "Do you want to tell me the truth?" the man asked, all of the happy-go-lucky, excited tone gone from his voice. He was going to beat me at my own game. The who-is-the-bigger-jerk game.

I shook my head. "I'm going to stick with my previous statements."

We were silent again. That annoying, buzzing fan was going to be the death of both of us. I wasn't going to budge.

"What is behind those walls, Sue?" he questioned.

I raised my eyebrows and stuck my chin in the air. "I don't have to tell you anything," I said, my voice sounding childish to match my sour attitude. I couldn't believe that I had gone that far, but no one had ever really pushed me to that point.

Who cared anymore, though? If making a museum didn't cause any legal issues, what was the problem? And for awhile, I did want to talk about the pizzeria.

This might be my only chance to bring it up. "If you are looking for an animatronic, your best bet would be to tear one of those walls down and look inside. Most of them have at least one suit inside. It's a Bonnie suit, for sure."

The young man blinked, shocked that I was going to share something, I assumed. HE threw his hands up in the air and laughed victoriously. "Sue, you just saved my job! Thank you so much!"

I should have thought that through better. "Be careful. They're dangerous. Those suits were decommissioned because of certain death," I warned, in my most serious voice.

The man stood up. "This is amazing!" he shouted, gaining the enthusiasm that I'd previously grown to hate. His voice resonated through the entire building ominously.

"The suits were made to be animatronic and actual costumes. The mechanism that separated the functions often failed."

The man began to pace, obviously lost in his own thoughts.

I had to continue, though, or else I could be held responsible for injuries or death. And to make it worse, if a Spring lock Bonnie suit behaved like any of the modern animatronics, the man would need a night guard. The previous people paved them inside for a reason.

"Uh, that means that a person inside would be crushed by animatronic parts. Behind the walls are rooms that employees were told to go to if a spring lock failed so that the customers wouldn't see the wearer bleed to death. You might actually find a dead body in one of those suits. And possibly fifty-plus-year-old blood staining everything. That's what we found in one of them," I said loudly, trying to get the man's attention.

The man continued to walk around the office, a smile on his face.

"We actually didn't know that the animatronics could move around. They never had the best night mode. After the restaurants closed at night, the animatronics would kill anything that wasn't in a costume. They would press your entire body into an empty suit or head. It got to a point where we couldn't clean them. That's why we closed the restaurants. It is possible that you might experience the same issues."

Still nothing.

I sat for a moment, letting a silence fall between us. He didn't comment on again. "And the Bite of '87 was real," I said, dejectedly. The man was going to get his hands on a suit whether she advised it or not. "The suits I mentioned, they were nicknamed 'Springtrap'," I added.

The man pulled a phone out of his pocket and started dialing.

"The five children were killed in a safe room. The killer was never found. No one knows what happened to him. But I have a hunch that his remains are in a Springtrap costume."

"Yeah, uh, bro, it's me," the man said. I cringed. That phrase. It haunted me. "Yeah. Tear it down. Pull everything out and I'll meet you there to sort it."

He took the phone away from his ear and ended the call. "Uh, thank you so much, Sue. You are a lifesaver!" he said. "Please, come visit the attraction anytime. Free passes to the park for life."

I sighed one last time. "You're welcome," I whispered. "Call me if you find anything."

"Of course!" he answered.

I knew that I'd be coming back to this building very soon. I couldn't let this whole "haunted museum" thing continue.

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