FNAF new story

         In all honesty, it would have probably been in Mike's favor to have quit his job the moment he realized just how brutally life threatening it was. He had heard what he presumed to be the last words of the man who worked the night shift before him, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the man was most likely crushed and rotting away in an animal suit in the backroom. In Mike's defense, however, he had been the new guy, and rookies were always targets for immense pranking-- "Living without a frontal lobe?" "Forcefully shoved into a suit?" What the heck was someone supposed to make of that? Surely it had to have been a joke--

         Of course, it wasn't a joke, but it was a tad too late for Mike to make the decision to quit his job. No, it seemed that the animatronics had decided that he had been performing so wonderfully in his position that they had just so happened to find him a new position higher-up in the corporate ladder-- they were giving him a promotion of sorts. Instead of hiding "behind the scenes," Mike was going to be taking center-stage with the animatronics themselves, and none of his protesting shrieks or sporadic kicking were going to tell them different.

         Mike never thought his life would be snuffed out this way-- being stuffed into an archaic, dirty, golden bear that looked like it hadn't been touched in twenty years-- and not so soon either-- the only intimate contact he had ever had with someone was touching a bare boob, but that had been on accident during gym class his Freshman year of high school. Again, though, the animatronics didn't seem to care much that Mike was never going to be able to make a woman happy, or to make a baby of his own, or to buy a house for that special someone and second generation-- there were a lot of things Mike was never going to experience and fulfill because he had been so stubbornly ignorant to the danger before him-- his own pride in landing his first, true job had blinded him.

         With his bones crushed, many jutting from whatever flesh hadn't been torn apart by the mechanical devices within the golden bear suit that he had been stuffed within, Mike was beginning to acclimate to the pain. It was shock, probably-- there was no doubt in his mind that he was on the verge of death. He could feel his own blood dripping down his mangled body and onto the floor, and he could feel his fast-beating heart now slowly ease past a resting pace, to a more slow, worrisome beat. His breathing was soft, and his lungs were reluctant to keep going with all the blood that was crowding up the small space inside of them. Mike didn't feel panicked anymore, though. Death was inevitable now; he was beyond help and he knew it, and no one cared or would come looking for him. Instead, Mike felt...

         Calm.

         And ANGRY.

         And... sad...

         With his vision and life fading, Mike had the sinking feeling that his job at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza wasn't just yet over.