A/N:
A slow and kind of gloomy start... I promise you the next few will be funnier!
By the way, the chapter that would come before this one, the "True Start" (if you'd like to call it that way) would be chapter two of Phone Guy's Pizzeria. I would recommend reading it, since it explains how Mike got the nightshift.

Edit:
O W O ?!
WHAT'S THIS?!
Yeah, the chapter was edited! SOMEONE REALLY WAS CRAZY ENOUGH TO GO THROUGH THIS FOR ME! Huge thanks to AsiawasiaPL WHO ACTUALLY BOTHERED TO GO THROUGH THIS AND HELP ME WITH THE GRAMMA! Story itself is still a fucked mess of loose plotthreats, but hey, can't win 'em all.
THANK YOU FOR DOING THIS FOR ME! IT'S A HUGE STEP UP. It  means the world to me, really, you made this story a bit better for everyone.
Even if people who come back to this chapter a second time weird me out.

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"You know you need him."
All Phone Guy wanted was a short break, while the animatronics took over. Nothing but a minute to sit down and ignore Vincent.
But Vincent was never one to let himself be ignored.
"It's a joke, for you to act like you can handle this..." The Purple Guy waved his hand at the huge crowd of people, gathered around the singing animatronics. "Hell, you can't even handle me alone! Why are you so stubborn?"
The Phone-headed man stayed silent, praying for Vincent to leave him alone. His own demons were enough to fight against, he didn't need another one encouraging them.
Unfortunately, the cruel man kept on speaking.
"Not even you can be at two places at once... someday you're going to slip up. One mistake will be enough... then it's back to the factory for you." His smile was unnerving. Usually his face glowed of unreasonable excitement and mischievous ideas and yes, it was scary, but seeing the probable psychopath that calm and reasonable was even more haunting. It reminded him about the real danger, hiding behind that overly cartoonish façade.
"It isn't THAT hard to get another Night Guard... and you've seen the guy. How determent he is. For fuck's sake, the fact that he is alive should be enough to earn him the promotion! That and the fact that there's nothing that get's me... calmer... than seeing a new face. Someone to show around."
"He isn't Old Sport."
With that, Vincent's face shortly dropped, obviously not expecting Phone Guy of all people to hit that sore wound of his. Slightly bolder, PG immediately tried to finish the conversation via dismissive comments.
"And he won't ever be. I know what you're hoping for, but it won't ever happen. You're... different and we all can see that. You're fake and we can feel it. Whatever you did to Old Sport won't ever work on anyone else. Just quit trying to get a new... playmate."
He had already turned around, when the aubergine man started his rebottle. "I know that, you daft bastard! Did I ever imply that I believe he would become my fucking buddy? No. Honestly, I'm worried as shit about you, Phoney. You're trembling! Everyone can see it! You're anxious, because you know that your luck is running thin. One second, one small daydream and you are dead. The robots gonna blow up, or I sneak in some cocaine and BOOM. You're done. This makes you sick Phoney..."
Slowly he crept closer; eying his boss like a snake would a rabbit.
"The Night Guard hates everything... but he appears to follow orders and is able to deal with trauma. Fuck, the day after you vanished for a while, I found him ripping open all the spare-suit heads, mumbling something about staying alive. It was rather sweet. So, what could go wrong if you do it? Many things, yes. But... what could wrong if you don't? Well..." His words trailed off into quiet laughter.
In this moment, Phoney hated Vincent with every inch of his being. How could that asshole pretend to be a childish idiot, despite making obvious threats and cruel remarks? How could he prey on all his fears so easily, without even hiding that he was doing it AND STILL have the audacity to act like he only cared about his wellbeing?
Why would he never stop scraping away his nerves, never give him the smallest amount of peace?
Maybe he just hated him so much.
What could he possibly gain from another Guard in the facility?
The answer was simple, ridiculously simple.
Entertainment.
Entertainment in torturing a new victim, playing pretend until the time to strike was right. It wasn't fair, pretending to promote the Guy out of the animatronic hell, just to directly drop him into this far crueler place.
But since when did he care about being fair?
He felt his body grow numb, as his mind started spinning. If he was cruel enough to hire desperate humans into certain death, just to keep this place alive, then why not using the cannon fodder to rid himself of Vincent for a while? Not like it would end in a different way.
Desperately he gave his best to ignore the nausea in his stomach and to forget that he was exchanging the happiness of a poor guy...
...
Oh, right. Mike already worked at Freddy's. There wasn't much to ruin anyway.
"You know what, Vincent? You got me. I'll do it. Hope you're going to be satisfied."
In a spilt second, the other guard's face changed from superior smile to ecstatic grin, an expression he was weirdly far more comfortable seeing.
"Oh fuck yeah boss, you're the best dad I ever had!"
"Excuse me?!"
There it was again, the old game of confusion and strangeness.
Was the purple guard doing it intentional? Or was he that ignorant?
Whatever it was, if Phone Guy told him, he probably wouldn't even care.
"Btw, pls give me a pony on x-mas."
"W-what are you even saying? The h-heck means btw? A-and pls?! Did you mean please-?"
Already he was gone, leaving only the standard feeling of slight dread behind. Phone Guy went to his office, knowing his next phone call would contain more lies then every call before combined.
Would he even be mad if the Night Guard started to hate him as well?
No.
He would only smile, smile with a face that wasn't there; empathizing with a heart that didn't beat.
In a way he missed Old Sport just as much as Vincent. He couldn't remember much, but he knew that IF someone would free him from this painful existence, it would be that soulless...
...
Phone Guy wasn't delusional and knew that the Orange Guy was still at least partly human, but something in him feared that insulting him would somehow summon him... and calling him nothing but human felt plain wrong.
Heh, that was silly.
Just as silly as feeling a sad sense of pride in knowing that there was someone out there who ACTUALLY cared that he was alive and wanted to kill him so badly, he'd do it in front of hundreds of witnesses.
Quickly he shook off those depressive thoughts; trying to get back into his cheery, lying persona.
Be as cheery as the robots.
Don't let them see the stains on your body.
"Hello? Hello, Hello! I'm recording this message right before your shift, since I'm too busy to call you at night... yeah, I'm sorry about that. Please don't get too mad, we've got the other endoskeletons out of order for a while, so don't worry about them. What I'm actually here to tell you, and believe me if I say that I'm happy to be able to tell you that..."
Shortly he coughed, almost barfing at his massive lie.
"... You're getting a promotion! How does Dayshift at Freddy's sound? Not bad, eh? Pretty exciting stuff, I know... but keep focused on the robots for now, alright? Don't want you... getting distracted in the wrong moment! A... an injured person can't get a promotion after all! Even though we deactivated some, remember that you're now on your own against them. Still, I'm so glad to get you out of there soon. You did a great job and it would be a waste, if your talents would be only used to distract some pesky machines, right?"
Talents. Talents like staying alive and having no one to ask why you're shaking and crying every evening, staring at doors that you fear would all of a sudden open against your will.
Yes, it was one of the more important checkpoints on the hiring requirements that the Guard wouldn't have any family and friends at close vicinity.
Shortly he remembered their "job interview". When the so called Mike Schmidt started to spit out profanities against someone he only knew for two minutes, Phone Guy never expected that the same person would listen to his pleas and try to get him out of certain death.
"And by the way... thank you for checking the suits. Really... it means a lot to me. I don't remember what happened and why I am still alive, but I think in some other universe (if you believe in that) you saved my life. You're a hero Mike. And we desperately need those."
We need them to distract the villains. Sorry, this won't have a happy ending. Not with that many enemies to fight.
"Er-hem..." Awkwardly he straightened his collar. Even for his standards his words were too manipulative. "So, do your shift, go home and rest up, then come here around... four o'clock. We're gonna show you the ropes."
The click that signaled the end of the call was louder than expected. He jumped a little, scared of the karma that would haunt him soon.

On the next day Mike actually entered the establishment, erasing the last bit of hope in Phone Guy's soul that the poor guy would save himself.
Vincent, giddy and jumpy like a school girl, darted over, basically jumping his sacrifice. "Hello there, Old Guard! So you're here! You're a true madman! I'm Vincent, if you forgot that already, but you can call me big dick D- Fuck, that doesn't work anymore... call me vagina vaporizer Vincent!"
"No way in fucking hell."
Obviously unimpressed with this greeting the Guy shoved him away and walked directly towards PG, who only thought about running away for a split second.
"I'm fucking here. Why the fuck is this place such a hellhole?"
The guilt started fading after those words. Freddy's was his pride after all! The fake warmth in his voice and positive body-language felt almost natural now.
"I'm sure you will learn to love it in no time! Come along now, the tour can start! Do you want a full tour, or just the basics?"
"Can I just skip the shit and go straight to screaming at toddlers?"
"Yeah Phoney, let poor Mikey have some fun!"
Already Phone Guy saw them plotting against him. It was unnerving how close Vincent could get to people, without them noticing or caring.
Mike shot Vincent an angered glance. "Fuck off aubergine face, no one asked you. If you ever call me that again, I'm going to inject cancer into your bloodstream."
Shortly PG felt relieved, almost smirked, while Vincent turned his head, his expression frozen solid. "I'm just trying to help, buddy. Better not make unnecessary... obstacles for yourself!" Good-natured he laughed and showed every single tooth. Well, not like that was unusual for him.
"Fuck off with your bullshit. Are you trying to threaten me? Honestly? I will have no remorse once I start fucking your life up."
"I finally found my soulmate!" Purple Guy jumped towards him, maybe to hug or to strangle him (with Vincent you never could be sure), but once more unimpressed the new Guard stepped out of the way, letting his opponent crash into the floor.
Yes, Vincent was quite right in his assessment that a new Guy would be a fresh breath of air. But Phone Guy had work to do and needed to ensure that Mike would be able to handle a few things.
"I have to get going. Mike, if you have questions you can summon me in the office. Keep an eye on the animatronics, make sure no one tries to poison the customers and we will be just dandy!"
"Wait, poison-?"
"See you later!" Quickly PG fled the situation.
Mike turned around to his new co-worker, who still hadn't stood up yet. Maybe he was imitating a bug; maybe he was having a stroke.
Well, whatever, Mike didn't care. "Who the fuck would try to poison our customers?"
Smiling Vincent looked up to him. "Oh, you know... Candy's Burgers and Fries, the mutated rats under the kitchen counter, demons from the sixth dimension that I accidently pissed off by roasting their leader... standard stuff. In my last joint THAT was exciting! We had a whole interdimensional space-war against beings out of rubber! Here you can be happy when you see a fucking self-aware lamp. It became quieter for Freddy's lately."
"Alright, what fucking pills are you taking and in which order? I think I could use some of that too."
Vincent only shot him a strange look and returned to watch the ceiling. "Well, you're gonna see when it's time. By the way, how about checking up on the robot? Ya know, making sure nobody is yiffing the fox?"
"It's the middle of the day, there's no way in hell-"
There was a loud crash, glass splintered and a loud screeching was audible through the halls. "OH FOXY, TAKE ME! TAKE ME TO YOUR COVE OF PLEASURE! MY BOOTY IS ALL YOURS!"
The unintelligible YAring of the hopefully not-yet-fucked-fox followed and Vincent and Mike exchanged a glance.
Unrealistically loud tearing of clothes was to be heard and high-pitched screaming, maybe of kids who were catching on that this wasn't normal for pirates. Wait. That kind of shit was usual for pirates, wasn't it? I mean, they were the perpetrator in most cases, but still...
Or was he thinking about Vikings?
Shit, now he would need to google if Pirates were rapist and feel like some CIA dude would laugh his ass off behind his back.
Even though the CIA was probably not watching him constantly and rather keep their focus on high-profile politicians and information-leakers that would threaten the power structures of...
"OOOOooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOHhh FOOOOOOOOXYYYYYYYYYY!"
He realized that right now he had a bigger problem and tried to get any kind of signal from Vincent about what to do.
Finally the aubergine guy got back up and yawned.
"You're the newbie, so Imma take care of this today. Don't get used to it though~" He winked at Mike, who got the feeling that he was supposed to get a mixed message, despite not getting any kind of message at all.
With the other one gone, Mike had for the first time the opportunity to check his surroundings. Nothing much was happening, people ate pizza, kids were running around and screaming against the rules, the lamps were glowing, the animatronics were singing, nothing really dangerous.
Curious Mike crept closer, somewhat fascinated with the concept of the machines being what they were supposed to be.
Instantly it felt like he was small again, behind him his laughing parents singing along to the song and patting his head. Happiness flooded his being, as he watched the robots laughing and joking in the short solos breaks, like a group of kids who started a band, it felt like the happiest day...
Just that it never happened. His parents wouldn't be here. He never saw other kids interact like that when he was younger. And even if, the machines shouldn't be able to act like that.
This was all fake.
Something was manipulating his head.
Aggressive he turned around, uselessly trying to make out who the culprit could be, but all he saw was amazed faces of people who were enticed by the act the animatronics were playing out.
Mike felt sick and left the crowd to itself, not wanting to spend another minute around this lying bunch of monsters.
As he returned to the main hall, with quite the distance to the customers, he considered his options. There was nothing to actually DO as far as he saw.
Or at least nothing he knew of.
Shortly Mike considered looking for his chaotic co-worker, but quickly got back to his senses, after all he didn't want to get even more scarred by whatever happened over there. The silence from the pirate cove was PROBABLY a good sign... or maybe it just meant that everyone died there. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised.
Restless the new Guard started to wander around. Somehow the place was ridiculously different at daytime, despite being the same building.
Was there always an arcade? And these tables... were they placed like this before? Was he paranoid, crazy or did he just never pay attention?
Heh, not like he could have paid ANY-FUCKING-THING with his minimum wage.
After a while the prize corner caught his eyes. Of course it did, after all it was filled with eye-bleeding neon colors and spinning... things.
The employee behind the counter was leaning casually on it, not having to deal with any kids in the moment. His body language gave a relaxed impression, making Mike assume that he probably worked there for a while now.
Trying to not come off as creepy or lonely, Mike walked over and tried to start an innocent conversation.
"So... this is the prize corner, huh? Pretty... big."
Of course this was the prize-fucking-corner, why the fuck did he even say that?! What other place in this WHOLE FUCKING RESTAURANT HAD USLESS ITEMS IN TOKENS FOR SALE?
The salesman didn't appear that annoyed luckily.
"Yeah, we have quite the selection. Want something? I'm Matt by the way."
In the moment that it took for Mike to take a look at the wares it went silent, silent enough for distant gunshots to be audible. Irritated he turned around.
"Did... you hear that? Were that gunshots?"
"YES."
"Shouldn't we be worried?"
"No."
Either it was his mind bending around the nonsensical answer, or it was reality being torn apart, something felt disturbingly wrong about the man and Mike regretted slightly that he started the conversation in the first place.
In an attempt to change the subject, Mike inspected the items behind the counter. Pencil topper, Plushies of different brands, candy in form of the animatronics, those stupid plastic pieces of shit that never did what they were supposed to do, cheap clocks, batteries, gasoline, a lighter, cigarettes, booze...
Thankfully his brain was already on stand-by, otherwise he might would have gotten freaked out.
"So, I can go and play on the arcade all day, then come back here to burn down the fucking restaurant? Awesome!"
"If you want to...? Be careful that the boss doesn't get you though. And if someone asks, you didn't get anything from me."
"Who the fuck would even ask?! They can just take one fucking look at this store and fucking arrest everyone in the building."
Shortly the guy laughed and it was even more uncomfortable than being the victim of his constant plastic smile. Everyone in this restaurant had a fucking psycho smile. WHY?
Well, luckily (or not), Matt's smile was more one of a sexual predator than one of someone who would murder you in your sleep.
But on the other hand, Mike would feel more comfortable with the aspect of being killed by Vincent in the middle of the night than being kidnapped by Matt in the middle of the night, since an eternity inside a sex dungeon was probably real hell.
The man shook his head, still amused. "You should visit the kitchen. The prize corner is literally harmless against that."
Mike made a mental note not to ever get anywhere near the kitchen. There was most likely a biochemical weapon being tested inside there and knowing his luck, he would end up as a test subject.
"HEY THERE, OLD GUARD!" Vincent screamed through the whole establishment, reminding Mike of those awkward kids who just turned into teenagers, but still acted like eight. Mommy, mommy, look at what I can!
Annoyed he glanced at the odd guy, hiding his relief that he would get away from Matt with that.
"The fuck do you want? Is Foxy literally fucked now, or did you do your job?"
"Meh, don't worry, the fox is fine."
"Fax?"
"Yes, the fox."
"No, you're saying fax..." His words trailed off, this wasn't going anywhere. "Whatever. What the fuck are you wearing and is that even legal?"
Vincent now towered before him, his height increased through the suit he had climbed into. It was a golden Bonnie, hilariously unoriginal and stupid. The good thing was: he wouldn't need to see Vincent's punchable face anymore and he appeared trapped and slowed; only his eyes glowed through the holes.
Something itched in the back of Mikes head.
"Wait. Isn't this shit deadly? You know, I was told that if I ever got stuck in one of them, I would die a horrible death and my corpse would be unidentifiable."
"Yes, so? Old Guard, they're still gonna force you to wear these costumes to entertain the toddlers. They don't care about your "mild discomfort-slash-death". Suck it up boi, the stock-photo-kiddens wanna have some fun!"
"The stock-photo... what?! What the fuck? Is the management made out of psychopaths?!"
"I dunno, but Phoney kinda looks like a psycho to me."
"Well, I don't think... I mean, he worked the nightshift, right? He knows how dangerous the robots and the suits are, doesn't he? He wasn't the one to tell you to wear the suit..."
In a mixture of amusement and sympathy the Purple Guy smiled at him. "Come on. What do you think? Of course he did! He was told to do it, after all. Take one good look at me. I'm a guard, Mike. I'm supposed to keep the kids around here safe. And they fucking force me into this piece of shit, expecting me to be a fucking entertainer, as well as being quick to jump in if something goes south, without getting impaled by fucking metal pieces. They don't CARE. But that's fine. You know why? Because we are free. We can do what we want."
"They can't know about all this shit! How can anyone -"
"Listen. This place here... it's hell. But it can be heaven, for the right kind of people. Just... take a good look at the children here. That's their heaven. And Phoney! It's his heaven as well! Basically it's just a matter of perspective and what you do with the infinite opportunities this place gives you. And people who know of this, of US, they tend to close their eyes... for a good reason. Think about it for a minute!"
He came closer, his eyes glowing like dying stars.
"What would happen if this place closed down? Where would people like us go? People who are... more free in their thoughts, less likely to do what society wants? People who don't care about ANYTHING. We'd be a liability. So they leave us tiny places that no one truly cares about, in hopes that we destroy each other in the process, like our nature dictates. Everyone who works here is an outcast, Mike. Even you. You and I aren't that different in the eyes of the outsiders! Both of us have to be locked away, to be forgotten. Just like we aren't part of their world! As long as they don't see the feasting maggots under their own skin, they ignore them and live in bliss."
Mike felt rarely terrified, at least not at this level, but the way his counterpart leaned forward, the way you couldn't see, but FEEL his manic grin, the way he rambled on akin to a paranoid lunatic made him feel sick to the core.
"You understand it, Mike, I see it in your eyes! You get that we have to stop it! Together we CAN change fate! It is our OBLIGATION to show them how wrong they are in thinking of US as the broken ones! Instead, let's teach them about the JOY OF CREA-"
"SHUT UP!" Mike couldn't take it anymore. He needed to get out. "SHUT THE FUCK UP! You don't even make any sense anymore! J-just go away. I don't care anymore. I actually don't. Go and do your fucking job, so I can do mine."
Sprinting he headed for the backroom, hoping that the silence would get him back on track.
His whole body was shivering and he didn't know why. Everything felt cold; except his head, which was burning.
Breathing steadily, Mike tried to collect his thoughts. There wasn't anything objectively bad about what his co-worker had said. No threats, no hate towards him. It was just rambling, incoherent sentences, about possible reasons why no one cared about the chaos at Freddy's.
It was a conspiracy theory, without any merit behind it. Right?
The dark room was quiet; no sound came through the firmly shut doors.
No, he only overreacted. Vincent most likely just wanted to mind fuck him and did so as convincingly as possible.
Fuck, he was an idiot. There was nothing wrong.
Yeah, maybe the robots went insane at night, but there was an explanation after all...
Phone Guy's head was probably nothing but an unlucky accident, tied to the discoveries made about the ability of metal to preserve a person's "soul".
Matt seemed abnormal, but maybe he was bored like Vincent and made his day more interesting by fucking with new employees. It was easy to grin like a pervert after all and gunshot could be simulated or played off of the internet.
And Vincent? In the light of all the other people who worked at Freddy's he was most likely just a bit more extreme, used to people who understood his humor.
Mike tried to chuckle, but only a dry cough came out.
How likely was it that he just met a real psycho? Slim to none, obviously. What kind of lunatic would work at a restaurant, of all places? They would use their ability and lack of conscious to get into higher ranks, fulfilling their need for self-validation.
At least that was what the article said he had read a while ago, bored at the doctor's office.
It all was nothing, but a joke on his expense. Everyone was laughing their ass off outside, surely.
The shadows on the wall just moved.
Or did he imagine that?
Was someone here?
It was so cold.
Why was it so cold?
He reached for his pockets while turning around.
The shadows moved and they... whispered.
A golden Freddy suit lay on the ground, staring at him.
Thinking. It was thinking about something.
No.
No, NO, NO! This wasn't real. This was a joke his head was playing.
Just a bad joke, harmless fun, without any real effect.
When he entered the restaurant he had hoped not to be this weak. That he was stable, that he wasn't that easily set off anymore.
With shaking hands he opened the bottle, taking out three pills, but quickly putting one back in. He swallowed them without water, since a long time used to it.
After a few minutes, the room returned to being nothing than a filthy backspace for old suits and the private belongings of the employees. Hell, it even became brighter, now that his eyes weren't narrowed by his little hysterical fit.
It was slightly surprising to him that no one had checked on him yet.
- We can do what we want. -
In some things Vincent had said laid a grain of truth. It was quite comfortable not to worry about censoring his cussing, always being able to say: "Well, I swear, but at least I don't sell kids cigarettes" or "Yeah, I'm gonna learn to control myself, right after the robots stop literally killing people."
A small smile made his way on his face and already Mike felt his normal self coming back, screaming about how much of an idiot he was. Ah, it was a relief feeling normal for the first time in his life.
He left the saferoom half expecting to be fired for something that happened while he was absent, but everyone seemed fine, kids gathering around Vincent and the animatronics, who were doing a stage play or something.
Shortly he checked the clock. Almost six, so the hard part of the shift was already over and not ONCE was he in mortal danger. Maybe he could get used to this, after growing a thicker skin against his co-worker's jokes.
It couldn't be hard getting used to this life.
With a confident smile and straight back he left the saferoom, acting like he just slacked off. Grinning he jokingly saluted Matt in the distance and leaned against the wall, next to an unused table where nothing but a lamp and merchandise was placed on.
"The only thing we can know with certainty is that we can't know anything."
Mike's smile didn't falter as he pushed the lamp off the table. He wasn't paid enough to deal with talking objects and their existential crisis.
Nope, he would go home in an hour and enjoy twenty hours of sleep.
And not think about Vincent and the others.
Not think about murder robots.
Not think about pills.
And especially not think about lamps.
Fuck everything. He would need to stack his pills again if this shit continues. FUCK.

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A/N:
Hope you enjoyed!
Thanks for reading and have a nice day :3