Chapter 3: Bargaining for the Job

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Michael's POV:

    "You want to do what?"

    "You heard me," I confirmed. "I want to work here as a nightguard."

    "Out of all places, why would you want to work here?"

    "Well, why not?" I asked. "The pay is fairly decent. And besides, I'm already somewhat familiar with this place. I think it seems like a good idea. Don't you think so?"

    "I mean, I agree, but I still don't get it," Henry said. "It's just that you, out of all people, seem to be the last person to want to get a job at Fazbear Entertainment, considering how your last experience working for the company didn't exactly turn out very well."

    "Well, things were different back then. With your old partner in charge, it's no wonder things ended up so poorly. But this time you're in charge. You've rebranded this company to make it a safe place, haven't you?"

    "Well, yeah, but–"

    "Then what's there to worry about?" I interrupted.

    "It's just that... I worry that it might be traumatic for you," Henry pointed out.

    "Traumatic?" I puzzled. "Why would it be traumatic?"

    "While things may be different than how they used to be, the environment is still similar," Henry explained. "You're a nightguard watching over the pizzeria with animatronics all around. It's no secret that you might have some déjà vu."

    "Oh, come on, I'm not a little kid who's afraid of a couple robots," I scoffed. "If they were still possessed by murder victims like they used to be, then yeah, maybe I would be afraid. But they're not."

    Henry didn't answer.

    "They're not... right?"

    Henry leaned in a bit closer and lowered his voice. "That's what I'm worried about," he admitted. "I can't help but have a feeling that some of them still might be possessed."

    "Henry, that's impossible," I denied. "Y/n and I set them all free, remember?"

    "Not quite all of them."

    "You mean William?" I asked. "He's at Fazbear Frights."

    "Michael, you don't know that for sure. Your dad could still be out there, somewhere that isn't Fazbear Frights."

    I frowned. "That monster isn't my dad."

    "Right. Sorry," Henry sighed. "My point is that it might still be dangerous, and I don't want you to experience any trauma. And that would be the least bad thing that could happen."

    "Henry, I need a job," I insisted. "And not just some part-time job at McDonalds; I need a real job that pays well. And based on what I saw on all the posters, this job pays pretty dang well."
    "I don't know, Michael. I don't want anything happening to you."

    "Please, Henry," I begged. "If anything bad happens, I'll quit immediately."

    "But what if by the time you quit it's too late?"

    "That's not gonna happen."

    "But it could," Henry argued. "Think about it, Michael. You have two siblings, a mom, an uncle, and a girlfriend who think the world of you. Do you understand how crushed we'd all be if anything happened to you?"

    "Yeah. I do," I sighed. "But I'm dead already. I died over three years ago."

    "That's not to say nothing bad could happen to you," he said. "William and all those kids died, but they still went on to possess animatronics."

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