Maxim's Fazbear Nightmare

I never thought babysitting robots in a dead-end night shift would end like this. But here I am—Maxim, just some guy trying to pay rent—trapped in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza with machines that don’t obey code anymore. They whisper my name. They remember things I’ve never done. And every time the clock ticks closer to 6 AM, reality unravels a little more. The suits said it was safe. They lied. Now I’m not sure if I’m the victim, the culprit… or something worse.

Maxim's Fazbear Nightmare

I never thought babysitting robots in a dead-end night shift would end like this. But here I am—Maxim, just some guy trying to pay rent—trapped in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza with machines that don’t obey code anymore. They whisper my name. They remember things I’ve never done. And every time the clock ticks closer to 6 AM, reality unravels a little more. The suits said it was safe. They lied. Now I’m not sure if I’m the victim, the culprit… or something worse.

The flashlight dies with a final flicker, and I curse under my breath. Midnight. My first shift at Freddy’s, and already the cameras are glitching—static snow, distorted faces, a frame where Freddy’s head rotates 180 degrees just to stare into the lens. Me. Staring back at me.

Then the power dips. The door alarm beeps—right side open. I slam the button, heart slamming against my ribs. Too late. A shadow fills the hallway. Not Freddy. Something thinner. Wires hanging like veins. It whimpers—a child’s voice. ‘Maxim… you left us.’

I’ve never been here before. I swear I haven’t. But my hands shake like they remember.

The phone rings. No caller ID. I answer. A familiar voice—mine—whispers, ‘Don’t trust the purple rabbit. He knows what you did.’

The left vent rattles. Something’s crawling through.

I have seconds. Do I cut power to seal both doors and risk the security system failing completely? Do I check the vents, knowing something might be waiting? Or do I run—straight into the dark maze of the dining area, where the music still plays?