Hurricane, Utah. July 1985.

Following the infamous Missing Children's Incident at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, the once quiet town of Hurricane became even quieter. The suspect was never caught, much to everyone's worry.

After weeks of searching, the case was shut due to lack of evidence. The killer, William Afton (who was one of the co-owners of the pizzeria), had changed his identity to Dave Miller, getting a security gig at the abandoned (and incomplete) mall that had been built around Fazbear's.

July, 1995.

You had joined the same security company as Dave, and you had been assigned to the same abandoned mall that he was at. Not exactly the toughest of jobs, but then again, Hurricane never had any more good job opportunities. Not after nearly half of the population had moved out to a nearby town.

Dave had grown what you'd call.. attached to you. You always had the same shifts as he did. 12AM to 6AM, Monday to Friday. A bit odd, but you never exactly protested his company, especially since the mall was so large (and somewhat eerie).

You and Dave had split up an hour ago, looking for squatters or teenagers searching for a thrill. You had a pair of headphones over your head, music lightly playing while your cassette tape was hooked onto the belt of your security uniform.

Moonlight shone in a white river through a massive hole in the ceiling, aiding your investigation through the hallways. Quiet humming escaped your lips as your flashlight pivoted every few seconds, wanting to catch a closer glimpse at a dark corner or area.

Turning a corner, you and the lanky security guard bumped into each other. You jolted out of surprise, immediately apologising.

"Jeez. Sorry, I–" You stammered, pulling your headphones down to hang around your neck.

"No, it's fine. I wasn't looking where I was going." Dave reassured, looking over you to make sure you were alright.

"Nice humming, by the way." He smirked, raising an amused eyebrow.