Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

LOG: START

…tap tap. okay. we’re rolling.

Okay. First shift. Night one.

Location: supposedly defunct horror franchise.

Mood: cautious optimism… and dread.

So. This place should be boarded up.

Instead, I walked in like someone wanted me to.

The front doors were unlocked. No alarms. No rats. Just stale confetti on the floor and a sign that said “PARTY HARDER” hanging off one hinge.

Honestly? Vibes are already rancid.

[12:34 AM]

Power’s unstable. Office lights flicker like they’re syncing to a haunted disco beat.

Terminal booted up and knew my name.

“Welcome back, Cacey.”

BACK?

I’ve never worked here.

…Right?

[1:09 AM]

Glamrock Freddy spotted on West Hall Cams.

He stood still. Too still. Spotlighted like he was waiting for applause.

Then — I swear — he turned toward the camera.

Not toward the hallway.

Not ambient movement.

Straight. At. Me.

[2:42 AM]

Chica jogged past with a pizza box and what looked like a human rib.

I’m not going to think about it.

I’m not going to think about it.

I’m not going to think about it.

[3:33 AM]

The daycare is humming.

I’m not near it. I’m not touching it. I’m pretending it doesn’t exist.

If Sun drops from the ceiling and calls me “New Friend,” I will have a medical event.

[4:20 AM]

Freddy again. This time outside the office door.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Just watched.

Then the intercom crackled:

“…Cacey.”

Just my name.

Like he remembered it.

Like he missed it.

[6:00 AM – End of Shift]

The lights came back.

The door unlocked.

The cameras went dark.

I should go home.

But I don’t think I ever really left.

LOG SAVED TO ARCHIVE_01.

🎈 “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CACEY” 🎈

Chapter Text

12:00 AM

I said I wasn’t going near the daycare.

I lied to myself.

Corporate sent a fuzzy audio ping through the terminal just after clock-in:

“Daycare Attendant system rebooting. Please check for anomalies.”

Me, a genius: Maybe if I just peek in and reset the lights, I can get hazard pay.

Me now: I regret everything.

12:18 AM

The lights were already on.

That’s the first red flag, right? The Pizzaplex has no working lights. Everything else is running on backup power and nostalgia.

But the daycare glowed. Bright. Wrong. It felt… too clean. The foam mats were perfectly arranged. There were no juice stains. No glitter. No screaming.

Just silence.

Then I stepped onto the padded floor, and I heard him.

“NEW FRIEND—!”

12:24 AM

I screamed.

I actually screamed.

Sun dropped from the ceiling like a cursed chandelier and skidded into my personal space bubble like a demonic daycare greeter. His hands were too soft. His teeth were too many.

He spun me in a circle before I could yank free and ran off, shouting something about finger paint and friendship games.

I haven’t moved from behind the ball pit since.

I think the pit is… whispering?

12:45 AM

Bad news: the ball pit is whispering.

Worse news: Moon is awake now.

The lights cut out on their own — no warning, no flicker, just total blackout and a deep mechanical growl behind me.

He dropped down silent. No theatrics. No joy. Just darkness pressing up against my back and the sound of his voice like wind through a corpse’s teeth:

“Naaaap time.”

I sprinted and swore I saw my own body still sitting by the ball pit.

1:12 AM

Moon is hunting me through the jungle gym.

This should be funny.

It’s not.

He doesn’t walk. He climbs. He’s above me. He keeps whispering things like:

“You’re breaking the rules…”

“Lights out forever…”

“You don’t belong here.”

He keeps calling me “rulebreaker.” I think he means more than daycare rules.

I think he knows.

2:06 AM

Power failure. Total system override.

The lights came back on on their own. Sun returned.

But he didn’t greet me. He stood in the middle of the room — twitching. Looking directly at me with his head tilted 90 degrees.

“You brought the dark in with you.”

“That’s cheating.”

“That’s not allowed.”

Then he pulled the emergency cord on himself and shut down.

I left.

2:44 AM

Back in the office. I locked the door. I can still hear the echo of carousel music. I can’t tell if it’s in my head or not.

On the monitor, Roxy just walked by holding a piece of my jacket.

I didn’t leave it behind.

4:00 AM

Glamrock Freddy stood outside the office again. He didn’t try to get in.

He didn’t move.

He just… watched.

I swear his voice glitched through the speakers and said:

“Do you remember your birthday here?”

“You cried when they sang.”

I’ve never told anyone that.

5:46 AM

I found an old staff badge with my name on it.

But the picture’s from when I was a kid.

I didn’t work here as a kid.

…Right?

6:00 AM – Shift Over

The lights snapped back to “normal.” No signs of Freddy. No sign of Moon.

The photo is gone.

But my hands still smell like fake glitter and birthday cake.

End of Entry.

Chapter Text

[LOG START: 12:00 AM (probably)]

“Night Three. Power’s still on. But time? Not so much.

Clock-in registered as 12:00 AM.

My watch says 3:17.

My phone battery’s dead.

The Fazwatch just keeps blinking:

🎈 ‘Ready to celebrate!’”

Cameras are lagging.

Freddy took a step, paused, rewound, took it again, then froze — midair, one foot up, like someone hit the pause button on gravity.

I blinked. He was gone.

The footprint stayed.

[??:?? AM]

Lost time.

One minute I was in the chair, watching cams.

Next, ten minutes gone. Notebook open. My handwriting. Fresh ink.

“Don’t trust your eyes tonight.

Don’t let them rewrite you.”

I don’t remember writing that.

But it’s my pen.

And it’s in my voice.

[??:?? AM] – West Hall Feed – CAM 3B

Roxy passed the same hallway twice.

Same exact steps. Same timing. Same glance over the shoulder.

But on the second pass, she looked directly at the camera — at me — and mouthed something.

I slowed the footage frame by frame.

“You used to love it here.”

Then she vanished off the feed.

[??:?? AM]

I tried to leave the office.

Stepped into the hallway.

Turned the corner.

I was back in the chair.

Same timestamp.

Same camera angle.

Same crumbs from last night’s crackers back on the desk.

I’m in a loop.

The building’s not just haunted.

It’s… self-aware.

[??:?? AM] – FAZWATCH GLITCH LOG 03

The Fazwatch booted on its own.

New app unlocked: 🎂 “MEMORY ROOM” 🎂

Inside: four audio logs, labeled C, F, R, M.

I played “C.”

C (child voice): “You said we’d be best friends forever. Do you still like cupcakes?”

It was me. My voice.

A version of me I don’t remember being.

I sounded so happy. So small.

I played “F.”

F (Freddy?): “We missed you. We waited. I kept the party ready. I kept you ready.”

“But you didn’t come back.”

“…Not until now.”

[??:?? AM]

Cameras down.

Birthday music started.

But it wasn’t coming from the PA — it was coming from beneath the floor.

Like someone was singing from the sublevels.

I checked the system for basement maps.

“ACCESS DENIED – ARCHIVED FLOOR.”

The floor vibrated like applause.

I swear I heard someone whisper:

“Blow out the candles, Cacey…”

Something exhaled next to my ear.

One candle went out on its own.

[??:?? AM] – MONTY ENCOUNTER

Camera flickered.

Monty appeared in the main arcade, but his suit was… wrong. Older. Prototype model.

Paint stripped, one eye burned out, moving in stiff, mechanical bursts.

He turned. Stared straight at the camera.

Then — red eyes.

Not his default lighting. Not ambient glow.

Pure, solid red.

The feed erupted in static.

When it cleared, he was gone.

But the words “🎈 THANK YOU FOR CELEBRATING 🎈” were burned into the terminal screen.

[6:00 AM – Shift End?]

The system never called it.

No buzzer. No lights up.

But the air got lighter.

The monitors dimmed.

I looked in the mirror by the filing cabinet — just for a second.

Saw myself, maybe ten years younger. Holding a cupcake.

Then the reflection blinked, and I was me again.

I checked my pocket.

The birthday badge I found last night?

Glossy now. Clean.

And my face in the picture?

Smiling.

LOG SAVED TO ARCHIVE_03.

“🎈 TIME IS JUST A GAME WHEN IT’S YOUR PARTY.”