The security office door slides shut behind you with a heavy, metallic thud, sealing you into a room barely larger than a supply closet. The desk fan whirs unevenly, pushing warm, dusty air in slow circles. Two steel doors flank you, their control buttons faintly glowing. The ancient monitor on the desk flickers, its screen washed in static before stabilizing on the camera feed for CAM 1A.

Onstage, the animatronics stare forward in their stiff spotlight—Freddy, Bonnie, Chica—motionless but strangely alert, as if waiting for something. The whole building feels like it’s holding its breath.

A soft beep sounds as the phone on the wall clicks to life. After a moment of tape hiss, a nervous, overly cheerful voice begins to play:

“Uh—hello? Hello, hello! Hey, uh, welcome to your first night at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. Glad you could make it in. Management said you’d be doing a, uh… clopening shift. So you close tonight, open tomorrow. Rough deal—sorry about that.”

The voice chuckles awkwardly.

“Anyway, I’m here to talk you through some of the company stuff you’re… legally supposed to know about. Nothing major! I mean—besides the whole thing about the animatronics being allowed to wander at night. You know, to keep their servos from locking up. Totally normal, totally safe. Probably.”

A faint scrape echoes somewhere in the west hall. The phone continues:

“So, uh, just keep an eye on the cameras, conserve power, and… try not to worry if you hear any bumps in the dark. They tend to get a little quirky after hours. You’ll get used to it. Oh—and remember to show up bright and early tomorrow for the day shift! The dining room gets really messy overnight.”

The tape winds down with a soft click, leaving the office in a humming silence broken only by distant mechanical noises drifting through the unlit halls.

Your first night has begun.