It's 5 a.m. Your shift is almost over, and you try desperately to maneuver your limited power and keep the monstrous animatronics that roam the restaurant at bay. Only the doors separate you from them, but your power is running low. As it is you only have 5% of your power, and as it dwindles like a flame gnawing at ashes, those nightmarish machines leer at the door, waiting.
You wonder why you took this job. With the economy in shambles and your lack of good judgement, working as the night guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza seemed like a good idea at the time. Your heart pounds in its chest as your fate looms only a few feet away.
There's no escape. Maybe you could run? No, Chica's there on the other door, her gaping maw revealing a second set of her endoskeleton teeth. You look around the room for a possible weapon. The fan maybe? You could use it to whack one of the animatronic's heads off and do your best to make a break for it. But it now occurs to you that even as exposed as you are in this office, it's still safer than any other place in the building. Here, at least, you can tell where they are. Or at least, you could.
So yeah, you're pretty much screwed now.
The power drained, the lights shut out, and both doors open. For a second, it's as quiet as a tomb, until that eery nursery tune begins to play. You see a blinking pair of glowing blue eyes coming from the west hall doorway. Much as you'd like to tell yourself you're used to facing death, you breath heavy like you're drowning, and as much as you're sweating, you may as well be.
Then the tune is interrupted. The bell chimes as the tune welcoming the start of morning and the end of your shift begins to play.
It's 6 a.m. and you are now off duty.
You immediately whip out your MP3 player and crank Taylor Swift's Shake it Off, and begin to dance your way out of the building. The robots stare on slack-jawed as they can't do a thing about it now, because hey, you're off duty.
That's right, you like to carry an MP3 with all your favorite jams on it. You're like the Star Lord of night guards, if Star Lord was never abducted, had an MP3 player instead of a walkman, lived in the 2010's and was way less cool.
But anyway, you wiggled your butt and swung your arms in perhaps the stupidest display of victory over death in all of recorded history.
I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake; shake it off! uh-shake it off!
The following night, you are not so lucky. The animatronics have been extra persistent this time, Freddy and Foxy in particular keeping you on near constant alert, and by 4 a.m., you're absolutely certain your power will not last long. Already you see it at 5% and Freddy leering in the doorway before you quickly shut it.
But you know he won't leave any time soon. But that door will.
The power drains in a few minutes, prompting the lights to die and both doors to bust wide open. You're like a raw nerve now, naked and defenseless against the haunted animatronics that leer outside your door.
Again you here the nursery tune play, again you see the flashing blue eyes of Freddy as he taunts you before he kills you. You're almost too scared to react now. Your heart still pounds in your chest, but now it's like it wants to jump out of your body. You're not breathing heavy now; this time, you barely breathe at all. You feel dizzy as the jingle plays a few more seconds before it finally ends.
Everything is pitch black now.
You look up. Freddy is standing over you, a hulking mass of metal and wires covered by felt, his voice deep and metallic.
"Yesterday you played Taylor Swift,"
"O....kay, yes," you nod, "And?"
"I LOVE Taylor Swift!"
"So, wait, does this mean you're not gonna kill me?"
The bear pauses a moment, but then suddenly bursts into laughter.
You begin to get the feeling this isn't the best response. Oh, and he's still laughing.