You always see those stereotypical abandoned buildings in television shows. The ones with cobwebs in the partially boarded up windows. Graffiti coating the outside so thickly you can't even decipher what used to be drawn there. Shattered glass and bits of the decaying brick lacing the ground out front. It seems like movie magic until you stand next to the real thing. A building that had seen no life in almost 20 years. As I approached the entrance, a man stepped out of the front door and made his way towards me. He was heavier set, with a dark brown goatee and a hard hat. His hand was extended as he began talking.

"'Bout time!" he spoke. The smirk on his face gave away the sarcasm. "You must be Detective Turner." I nodded and returned the handshake.

"Peter Harper, I presume." The big man fixed his belt and turned back towards the building.

"Well," he said through a sigh, motioning towards the front door, "welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Or at least what's left of the damn place."

"Looked a lot more colorful when I was a kid. More friendly. What happened?"

"No one's around to maintain it. Company up and left it after the accusations. Parents didn't want their kids going in anymore. Eventually bankruptcy was their only option." Harper looked down the length of the building, with his hands on his hips. "Well, let's head in." He motioned to a container next to the door as we got closer. "Might want to grab yourself a hard hat. Never know what's gonna fall down next in there." I didn't need to ask more questions. I safely tucked the hard hat on top of my head as I stepped into the decaying building. It was surprisingly large for what it was. It used to house several parties at a time in the various rooms within. There were still drawings tacked up on the walls from the many kids that enjoyed their time in the pizzeria. Remnants of paint were still covering every hallways, sometimes a blank color, and other times sporting depictions of the pizzeria's various animatronic characters. Freddy Fazbear, a big brown bear with a small top hat and a bowtie, was the main star.

"So they tell me you're a scavenger, Mr. Harper," I said, following behind him as he trudged through the halls.

"Yessir, I am."

"Anything in particular you're looking for in here?"

"Well, we've been contracted by a local amusement park. Place called Crater Falls."

"I'm familiar with it. Used to go there as a kid."

"Right, well they're planning on opening some kind of horror attraction. Gonna use this place as the theme for it. Seems like the stories and rumors are enough to warrant it."

"Aren't the stories about this place just a local thing? Doesn't seem like it would interest anyone outside the town."

"Clearly you don't hit the internet often, Detective. Once the stories about this place went viral, it's been drawing attention from everywhere. That's why we're scavenging right now, trying to get all the animatronics and old equipment out of here before the tourists show up looking for themselves. You know how people online love chasing things that don't exist."

"I hear you." We made our way to the back of the restaurant. Each hallway was adorned with a security camera sporting a glowing green light.

"Security system still work?" I asked, pointing towards the camera. Peter looked up at the camera and shrugged a little.

"Far as I know, the feeds still wire into the security office," he explained, "but like I said, this place has been abandoned for a really long time. No one to archive the footage. So if you were hoping to see the mystery Santa that left you those presents on film, you're out of luck." Peter pulled a key out of his pocket and began unlocking the back room of the restaurant.

"Think he'll come back?" I asked. Peter grunted as he turned the key and forced the door open.

"Figuring that out is your job, Turner," he replied. "I'm just here to pick up junk and get my money." I nodded and walked past him into the back room.

"Fair enough." Inside were the old animatronics that used to dance in the windows and party rooms of Freddy Fazbears. They were lifeless, staring off into the distance, and in various states of decay and disrepair. Four of the furry creatures I instantly recognized. Chica, the duck... or chicken maybe... who knows? She used to be programmed to carry trays and serve food to the children. Essentially, balance a plate of cupcakes or bowl of ice cream long enough for a four-year-old to snag it. I guess it was sort of impressive robotics for that time. Bonnie the purple rabbit, had always freaked me out with his huge square teeth. Don't know how any kids saw that thing as friendly. Regardless, he was a crowd favorite. Wearing a bowtie and often playing a guitar on stage for the kids. Foxy the fox pirate was also slumped over in the corner. Pretty much explained itself. A red fox with an eyepatch and a hook for a hand. I guess things don't need to make much sense when entertaining children. He had sharp teeth which looked dangerous, but he was also supposed to be sort of the bad guy in the group, so I guess it made sense. And of course, lying across a table like a patient due for an operation, was Freddy. Peter nodded towards the machines and patted his hand on the back of Chica's head.

"These are them," he stated. "The famous animatronics. Lot of bad rumors have been spread about these guys." Peter shook his head and then moved back towards the door, like he wanted to leave. "Personally, I don't care how many of those stories are true. The fact is... these things smell horrible."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Sure isn't pleasant."

“That one in particular,” Peter added, pointing across the room. I turned to see another Freddy sat against the wall. It was yellow in color and completely limp.

“Haven’t seen that one before,” I noted.

“Well, it was part of a new wave of animatronics. You could put an endoskeleton in there, or you could wear it like a suit. I think Fazbear Entertainment wanted to move away from machinery way back when. They came out with a bunch of designs for suits like that, but none of them quite pulled it off correctly. Anyways that thing is totally locked up. Won’t be able to get it into pieces without a saw of some sort. Like I said, smells like Hell.”

I nodded to it and walked towards another table in the room, where the head of an animatronic sat. It was hollow. No endoskeleton. Just empty black eyes staring at the wall. I picked it up and turned it a few times. It was a fox head, but this one was pink, with blushing rosy cheeks, big eyelashes, and some lipstick painted on the front.

"Foxy?" I asked. Peter grunted and fixed his belt again, seeming a bit more anxious.

"Well, sort of," he began. "See these animatronics were in business a long, long time ago. Back when this place was still called Fazbear's Family Diner. Fact is, when they changed the name and tried to make it more of a kid's place, they thought these old animatronics were a bit too... startling." I glanced at Bonnie again.

"You don't say."

"They remade all the old animatronics to try and make them more... you know... cuddly looking. Added some new ones like that Balloon Boy over there." I turned to where he pointed and saw a small, round boy animatronic. His hand was extended like he was supposed to be holding something. Most likely the balloons that gave him his name. "In the process they decided they didn't want the main four to be three male figures and one female. So when they remade Foxy, they made him a girl." I looked at the head again and nodded as I set it down.

"Guess that makes sense." I looked around the room a bit. "So where's the remakes of the others. These things are the originals, right?"

"All got dismantled way back after the Bite of '87. The animatronics bit the daytime security guard right on the front of his head during a birthday party. Destroyed the poor b*****d’s frontal lobe. Guy by the name of Jeremy Fitzgerald."

"I've heard the name," I quickly replied. "He worked a few nights here before I was born. One of the only means of information they had during the initial investigation, and the guy can barely think anymore."

“Just be amazed he’s still alive. I guess it was unavoidable what with that animatronic being taken apart and put back together so many times.” I looked at Harper who was now pointing to the pink Foxy head on the table.

“Wait, this is the animatronic that bit Fitzgerald?” I asked.

“Sure is. Was a side project for the kids. They could take that animatronic apart and rebuild it however they wanted. Eventually it just looked like some weird spider. Folks that worked here called it the Mangle.” I stared at the Mangle’s teeth, imagining them clamping down onto someone’s head. The fear Jeremy Fitzgerald must have felt as he was being bitten. Imagine looking into the eyes of your attacker, hoping for some kind of sympathy or restraint… but seeing mechanical eyes with no feeling at all. I tried to shake off the thought as I continued to examine the room, before coming across another strange animatronic. It was extremely thin, but about 6 feet long. There was no endoskeleton in this one. Instead it was just made of felt and had cut strings dangle off of its limbs. The entire puppet was black in color apart from a few white stripes, and on its face was a white, smiling mask with a few designs, like lips. “This is interesting,” I stated, picking the puppet up.

“Oh yeah,” Harper chimed in, “that thing. The marionette people used to call it. That one was a donation. Just kind of showed up at the door in late 86. No one really knows who gave it to the company, but the kids loved it. I used to give them presents from the prize counter and just always seemed to be doing something new.”

“Who was pulling the strings?”

“Not sure. Guy kept to himself apparently.”

“I’m pretty amazed you don’t know the answer. You seem to know just about everything about this place.”

“I know a guy. Wealth of information about Freddy Fazbear’s. Shut in that goes by the name of Fritz Smith. Took over the night shift from Fitzgerald back in 87.”

“That name rings a bell.” I pulled out my phone and checked the time. “Still pretty early.” I looked back up at Harper. “I want to be here at night and keep an eye on the place. See if the suspect shows his face again. Until then, mind telling me where I can find Fritz. I’d like to talk to him myself.” Peter shrugged and turned towards the door.

“Suit yourself, Detective. I’ll give you his info.”

“Thanks. Is there anyone else I should know about?” Peter stopped and looked towards the ceiling, clearly trying to place a name in his head.

“Yeah, there’s another guy who worked a couple of shifts here back in 92. But he was checked into the looney bin shortly after he was fired. Guy’s name is Mike Schmidt. If desperation calls you can go to him. I’d also recommend Scott Silverman, as he worked here the longest, but no one’s seen him in years. Just up and vanished one night.” I jotted down the names and cleared my throat.

“This place just seems to bleed unluckiness into the people who worked here, huh?” Peter nodded and held his hands out at his sides.

“Why do you think their making a horror ride out of it? Superstition, Detective.”

“Fair point. Thank you very much for your help Mr. Harper. Hopefully your team can get back to work soon.”

“I hope so, too.” Peter shook my hand and followed me to the exit. Next stop was the door of Mr. Fritz Smith. Peter provided me with a lot of useful information… but maybe Fritz hadn’t told him everything. It couldn’t hurt to make sure.