Circus Baby’s Pizza World. 10 years later.

1997.

The elevator rattled before jolting to a stop, indicating the start of his shift. He stepped out and crawled into the vent, his movements echoing off the metal as he crawled to the Primary Control Module. He listened patiently as the HandUnit over the speaker gave him his instructions, giving him the same basic list of instructions like every other day. Clockwork by now. He checked on Ballora and Funtime Foxy, giving them a controlled shock to get them back on their stages.

The HandUnit’s voice went out, replaced by Circus Baby’s voice — the same voice that had saved him from whatever it was that was after him on his first day. He started to listen to the voice, following blindly to her instructions with misplaced trust. He was surrounded in eerie darkness, taking calculated steps until he ended up in the Scooping Room. Wide eyes scanned the room; wires handing from the ceiling, wreckage of animatronic parts scattered, and the heap of a body on the floor. He rushed to pick the body up, trying to check for any sign of consciousness. It was another security guard, though he thought he worked alone… There was a dark stain on the purple button up of the work uniform. He put his hand up to it and his hand came back red. Blood.

He slung the body onto his shoulder and hurried back to the Primary Control Module. He found a seat, setting the heap down. He rummaged around for anything he could use, desperate for something that could patch up the bloody wound on the security guard he found.

His hands finally wrapped around a first aid kit when he heard a quiet noise behind him. He tensed and looked back at the body in the chair, checking again and praying for some sign of life.