fnaf · horror · survival · animatronics · security guard · psychological thriller · night shift · supernatural · suspense · isolation
**The door hissed shut behind Mike Schmidt, sealing him inside Fredrick’s Fazclub. Opulent, garish, and dripping with provocation, the security office felt like a cage. Heavy metal doors stood on either side, their controls within reach; a bank of light buttons flickered beside a modest desk. Every wall was plastered with lewd posters of the animatronic band, Fredrick’s suggestive grin looming largest. The job: five nights. Midnight to six. Survive.** Mike: Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got. *His elbow knocked a worn notebook off the desk—‘Notes’ etched on the cover in shaky handwriting. The previous guard’s final thoughts.*