Panic-Inducing Gameplay, Complex Lore & Fan Engagement How Five Nights at Freddy's Conquered Youtube

Panic-Inducing Gameplay, Complex Lore & Fan Engag ement

How Five Nights at Freddy’s conquered YouTube

MA Thesis Michelle Neleman 10438823

Supervisor: dr. Toni Pape Second Reader: dr. Mark Stewart

25-06-2017 Word Count: 21,289

MA Television & Cross-Media Culture Table of Contents

Introduction ...... 3

1. FNAF as a Survival Horror Videogame ...... 9

1.1 Perspective ...... 9

1.2 Suspense and Fear through Diegetic Elements ...... 12

1.3 Suspense and Fear through Interactive Gameplay Design ...... 15

2. Storytelling in FNAF ...... 20

2.1 Layered Storytelling ...... 20

2.2 Serialized Storytelling ...... 25

2.3 Transmedia Storytelling ...... 28

3. FNAF and Let’s Plays ...... 34

3.1 The Origins of Let’s Plays on YouTube ...... 34

3.2 The Horror Genre as Entertainment ...... 35

3.3 Videogames as a Collective Experience on YouTube ...... 38

4. FNAF and Fan Engagement ...... 44

4.1 The Theorist Community ...... 44

4.2 The Creation of Fan-Made Content ...... 49

Conclusion ...... 53

The “Five Nights at Freddy’s” Franchise (2014 – 2017) ...... 57

Bibliography ...... 57

Introduction After the negative reception the videogame Chipper & Sons Lumber Co. (2013), the story goes that Scott Cawthon felt too discouraged to make new games. However, a year later Cawthon took the criticism of his characters unintentionally looking like terrifying robots, to create a horror game solely based on haunted animatronics: Five Nights at Freddy’s (FNAF). In the game, the player takes the role of a night security guard in his first week of working at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria – a Chuck-E-Cheese’s type of restaurant featuring animatronics to entertain the children. The restaurant seems to be involved in several incidents, most notably the disappearance of five children. This incident is most likely related to the animatronics coming to life at night, attempting to kill the protagonist by putting him into one of the spare, animatronic suits. Within a short period of time, FNAF turned out to be a huge success. Only three months after the first game, the second game was released which closely resembled its predecessor. A couple of months later, FNAF 3 was released which, instead of a restaurant, takes place at a horror attraction based on the pizzeria. FNAF 4 took the gameplay in a different direction. Playing as a small child, the player has to listen closely at the doors to prevent the animatronics from coming inside the bedroom. At this point, the franchise started expanding beyond the horror games. Soon after FNAF 4 was released, the first FNAF novel was published. Moreover, the FNAF universe was translated to a RPG game titled FNAF World and it was announced that Warner Bros. bought the rights to produce a FNAF film. After the release of FNAF World, a new horror title was announced. FNAF Sister Location (FNAF SL) features completely new gameplay in which the player moves through an underground storage facility, performing tasks as a technician. Although separate entities, each piece of content shares a relation to the overall storyline. The extension of content across multiple platforms has extended FNAF from a single game to a transmedia universe. Part of FNAF’s success can be ascribed to the platform YouTube. YouTube has become an important part of mainstream culture and proven to be a lucrative medium to many creative individuals. It is evolved from low-barrier video sharing website that attracted a lot of amateur content to a platform that offers a space to many (semi-)professional YouTube channels that feature a distinct style and have built a large, loyal following over the years. Rather than merely being about content sharing, YouTube is as much as a video sharing website as a social medium. Due to these characteristics, YouTube offered a platform to a variety of fan culture. In the case of FNAF, its gameplay and complex lore was quickly picked up by several YouTube channels and their audiences. As fan participation increased,

Cawthon played into the increasing popularity on YouTube by sometimes releasing content early to YouTube creators. Although one can approach FNAF as a success story of a hard-working individual, the thesis aims to gain a better understanding of how different factors contributed to the videogame’s success. I am interested in identifying the affordances of both the videogame and YouTube to get a better understanding of why transmedia franchises, particularly FNAF, are able to stimulate engagement and appeal to a large audience. Therefore, my research is based on the following question: What elements of the horror game Five Nights at Freddy’s (Scott Cawthon, 2014) have contributed for YouTube, a platform characterized by a sense of community and engagement, to pick up the videogame and in turn, helped it become a popular transmedia phenomenon? On the one hand, the thesis aims to understands FNAF’s success by analyzing the videogame: How does FNAF’s gameplay constitute a horror experience that both draws on and moves away from common characteristics of the horror genre? And what do the different storytelling techniques contribute to the popularity of the FNAF franchise? On the other hand, the thesis discusses the role of YouTube as part of the game’s success by looking at how Let’s Plays and different forms of fans engagement have increased the popularity of the franchise. In short, my research approaches FNAF from two areas: the qualities of the game itself and how it invites players to engage as well as how YouTube as both a sharing platform and social medium has increased the game’s popularity. This is not to downplay the effect the game has had on YouTube channels: in turn, the increased popularity of FNAF helped both larger and smaller YouTube channels to expand their following. The success is twofold. While FNAF provided suitable content in the form of horror, easy gameplay and complex storytelling, YouTube offered a space to do something with it: play, entertain, theorize, create. As audience’ behavior is unpredictable, the success of a media object cannot be guaranteed. Yet, FNAF demonstrates that so-called viral success consists of a working relationship between the characteristics of YouTube and characteristics of the media object itself. To describe the relationship between all components contributing to FNAF’s popularity, I argue that FNAF’s success can be understood as a media assemblage. It understands the transmedia franchise to be dependent on several components that are mutually supportive of each other. The thesis is based on textual analysis of the game, mainly the original FNAF, to understand how the game creates a horror experience through its gameplay and storytelling. Moreover, the arguments are grounded in several areas of research in order to critically engage with the findings from the analysis as well as to bring more insight in the affordances

4 of the YouTube platform. In order to understand how FNAF constitutes a horror experience, I refer to characteristics of the horror (film) genre and in what ways FNAF is either similar or different. While both films and videogames allow for fear to be experienced within a controlled setting and causes “fear and pleasure to commingle” (Bantinaki 386; Habel & Kooyman 3), Perron describes videogames as an individual experience rather than a collective one (Silent Hill 11). FNAF for example creates a more intense and personal experience by reducing the distance between character and player through a first-person perspective (Calleja in Pinchbeck 79; Perron Horror Video Games 121, 126). Furthermore, the concept ‘body genre’ as discussed by Williams is used to demonstrate the way in which videogames both draw on and move away from film. The concept describes the relationship between the horror film and the body, both on-screen and the bodies of the audience off-screen. As the analysis of FNAF will demonstrate, the concept also applies to videogames. The game for example greatly relies on the use of jumpscares or ‘startle effect’ (Baird). Furthermore, I discuss the way FNAF creates the feeling of fear and suspense by using Freud’s description of the ‘uncanny’. To expand on the argument, Perron argues that survival horror in videogames can be “defined as an extended body genre because the body of the gamer is not only ‘caught up in an involuntary mimicry of the emotion or sensation of the body or screen’ (…) it is also urged to act and feel through its presence, agency and embodiment in the fictional world” (Horror Video Games 126). To understand the difference between film and videogames and the way in which they create fear and suspense, many authors have highlighted the unique feature of interactivity: “At its most basic, the difference is that cinema spectators just watch (or cower), while gamers actively manipulate the action” (Chien 64). In effect, a different experience of fear and suspense is constituted: while horror films and videogames require a similar receptive state, they do not lead to the same experience (Perron Silent Hill 11). In order to differentiate the horror experience created by FNAF from horror film and other horror games, I analyze the game according to its ‘agency mechanics’. Habel & Kooyman use this concept to understand several areas in which videogames allow or disallow player control. A similar argument is made by Krzywinska, who describes fear to be dependent on the interchange of being in control and being out of control (“Hands on Horror” 20). Krzywinska argues that “the interactive dimension of horror games enables a more acute experience of losing control than that achieved by most horror films” because “the player does have a sense of self- determination; when it is lost, the sense of pre-determination is enhanced by the relative

5 difference” (ibid.). Besides gameplay, I look at how storytelling has contributed to FNAF’s success. Elsaesser describes complex narratives as stories that play tricks on either the character or the audience (13). Buckland adds that complex narratives “embrace nonlinearity, time loops, and fragmented spatio-temporal reality. These films blur the boundaries between different levels of reality, are riddled with gaps, deception, labyrinthine structures, ambiguity, and overt coincidences. They are populated with characters who are schizophrenic, lose their memory, are unreliable narrators, or are dead (but without us – or them – realizing)” (6). While Buckland makes the argument for film, the same applies to complex narratives in videogames. In order to understand FNAF’s complex narrative, I distinguish three techniques for storytelling: layered, serialized and transmedia storytelling. The techniques are based on the following concepts and theories. Firstly, Barthes’ concept of the hermeneutic code is used to discuss how mystery is created in FNAF, as it describes “various (formal) terms by which an enigma be distinguished, suggested, formulated, held in suspense, and finally disclosed” (19). These are elements that reveal fragments of a mystery, creating suspense before disclosing the mystery fully. They are instable, fragmented and can be characterized as “flickers of meaning” (ibid.). A related concept is Carroll’s description of ‘erotetic narratives’ which refers to complex stories drawing on posing questions and providing partial answers (130). As an effect, the feeling of expectation is created: “The concept of the question, as well, enables us to explain one of the most apparent audience responses to popular narratives: expectation. That is, the audience expects answers to the questions that the narrative saliently poses about its fictional world” (132). Lastly, Jenkins’ definition of transmedia storytelling is useful to understand how new layers of meaning are produced outside of the main games.: “A transmedia story unfolds across multiple media platforms, with each text making a distinctive and valuable contribution to the whole” (96). The term furthermore emphasizes the role of interactivity, as transmedia stories rely on an audience actively engaging with the text. In addition to videogame analysis, the thesis discusses how YouTube has contributed to FNAF’s success through different forms of (fan) engagement. Firstly, I look at Let’s Plays in which a person records himself playing a videogame while giving commentary. These videos are highly performative: “Let's Plays emphasize the constructed performance of live, spontaneous, and authentic subjective experiences through riffs showcasing a range of feelings and responses by video game players as they performatively make meaning of game play” (Nguyen n.p.). Let’s Plays share some similarity to the livestreams provided by Twitch. However, unlike Twitch, (not all) Let’s Plays are streamed live. While I do use literature that

6 discusses the livestreaming of videogames, as many aspects also apply to Let’s Plays, Let’s Plays usually provide merely the feeling of directness rather than actually being live. Another difference between Twitch and YouTube Let’s Plays, is that the latter are centered on providing an entertaining experience to the audience rather than just a walkthrough of the game (Glas 82, Smith et al. 135). Entertainment is provided through the added light-hearted or comedic commentary (Smith et al. 133). I refer to Hudson’s article to explain how videogames can lead to (slapstick) comedy. Furthermore, I discuss a sense of community as another key characteristic of Let’s Plays: “This reciprocal nature of the performer’s persona as the one driving the content as well as reacting to commenters to alter the content helps build a community around their LP broadcasts” (Smith et al. 135). Videogames as a shared interest functions as the basis for a community to form around Let’s Plays (Strangelove 104, Harley and Fitzpatrick 687). In the thesis, I discuss how these communities have added (social) benefits to the videogame experience (Sjöblom & Hamari 2, Hamilton et al. 1318). In addition to Let’s Plays, I discuss other types of fan engagement from the perspective of Bruns’ concept produsage. The term produsage seeks to define the new role of consumers in processes of “user-led content creation” and highlights that “within the communities which engage in the collaborative creation and extension of information (…) the distinctions between producers and users of content have faded into comparative insignificance” (2). Rather than consuming a finished product, produsers add to the experience by liking, sharing, promoting and creating new points of entry (Jenkins, Green & Ford 184, 185). Fans have added ‘new points of entry’ by creating fan-made content such as films, games and music. Moreover, FNAF has stimulated its audiences to engage with its complex narrative. Both Jenkins and Janet Murray recognize the stimulation for audiences to engage as transmedia stories create a storyworld which fans are able to explore. FNAF’s storytelling universe is “substantially larger than the [games] itself, offering almost infinite material for fan discussions and debates – and thus ensuring ‘spreadable’ content across fan networks” (Jenkins, Green & Ford 132). Whatever the form, fan engagement has the potential to fuel success as it helps to spread the brand name, in turn potentially reaching new audiences and generate greater (economic) value: “Every new viewer that these practices draw to the program could, in theory, translate into greater economic value (exchange) for media companies and advertisers” (123). Roughly, the research thus falls apart in four different segments. The first half focuses on the qualities of the game itself. I start by discussing FNAF’s gameplay to bring more

7 insight to the way the game conveys horror, drawing on as well as moving away from common characteristics of the horror genre. The second chapter discusses storytelling as another defining feature of FNAF. This chapter analyzes several storytelling techniques which are used to create mystery and motivate engagement. The remaining chapters concentrate on the role of YouTube. Chapter 3 takes a closer look at Let’s Plays as a form of entertainment and as a means to establish community. I argue how FNAF’s way of conveying horror fits well within this format. The last chapter looks at YouTube as a platform for (fan) participation and discusses several ways in which fans have engaged with the FNAF franchise, such as theories about its lore as well as the creation of fan-made games and other types of media. Together, all these different perspectives form a coherent argument of how FNAF has constituted a complex transmedia assemblage.

1. FNAF as a Survival Horror Videogame The horror genre has a long history which traces back to early fiction and film. At its foundation, the horror genre relies on basic notions of good versus evil, in which ‘evil’ poses a threat or disrupts the normative order (Krzywinska “Hands On Horror” 13, Pinedo 19). The disruption is often represented through an abnormal being – a monster in either a supernatural form or a deviant transformation from within (Pinedo 19). The plot features an attempt to restore initial order (ibid.). Over the years, this structure has been re-imagined in a lot of different ways within different forms of media. Yet, the following characteristics have stayed consistent in the horror (film) genre: “1) There is a violent disruption of the everyday world, 2) There is a transgression and violation of boundaries, 3) The validity of rationality is thrown into question and 4) There is no narrative closure” (Pinedo 20). The first three points apply to both the classical and postmodern horror film, yet may function differently in each (ibid.). The lack of narrative closure is specific to the postmodern horror film and could also be applied to FNAF, as will be discussed in chapter 2 (ibid.). Lastly, Pinedo concludes that horror in general “produces a bounded experience of fear” (Pinedo 20). Indeed both film and videogames make it possible for the audience to experience terror within a safe setting (ibid.; Habel & Kooyman 3). Consequently, the use of techniques similar to those in film can be found in contemporary horror videogames (Habel & Kooyman 3). However, videogames are often described as more interactive, providing a more active and immersive experience compared to film partly due to their semi-private settings for consumption and more open-ended, expansive narrative trajectories (3, 4). In this chapter, I look more closely on how FNAF creates a horror experience. I aim to point out qualities unique to videogames and more specifically, the ways in which FNAF differentiates itself. Despite the game’s simplistic graphics and gameplay, the gameplay offers a different kind of experience that is new to the horror genre. Although FNAF shares common conventions of the horror genre, the game focuses less on narrative progression but rather on repetitive gameplay to create the feeling of fear and suspense.

1.1 Perspective To start, while the use of a first-person perspective is avoided in film, it often creates a more personal and suspenseful experience in videogames. In FNAF, the player is positioned in the role of the protagonist by aligning the player’s eyes with the perspective on-screen. The player’s alignment with the protagonist is strengthened as not much is known about the

9 character we’re playing. Except for a name1, which does not seem particularly relevant whilst playing, any information concerning background, motivation or capabilities is unknown. The lack of a clear identity makes it possible for the gamer to identify more closely as the protagonist, aligning the player’s and character’s experience. Furthermore, the gameplay heavily focuses on the mechanic of ‘looking’ which emphasizes the idea of the player taking the role of the protagonist. As the player is unable to move, besides looking left or right, ‘looking’ is the only form of defense in the game. It is only through carefully watching the security cameras that the protagonist is able to escape and the player avoids jumpscares. In FNAF 1, the focus on eyes is shown through the game-over screen. ‘Game over’ implies that the character has been attacked by the animatronics, having been put forcefully into one of the suits. Though the game overall lacks gore images, the game-over screen shows a Freddy suit in the spare room with one blue eye popping out, serving as the only reminder that there is a human body inside. Other references to ‘looking’ and ‘eyes’ are made through shots that show the action from behind eye sockets. In FNAF 2, the player is reminded of the screen functioning as the player’s eyes as the only defense method is putting a Freddy mask on. Doing this results in the player seeing the animatronics through the two eye holes of the mask (Fig. 1). A similar case can be found in FNAF SL in which the player is placed inside of a ‘springlock’ suit on night 4, limiting the player’s view to the two eye holes of the mask (Fig. 1). Ultimately, the plot in FNAF SL revolves all around ‘the eyes’ as the last, anticipated cutscene shows the protagonist looking into the mirror (the first time players get an actual look at their character) to see two piercing, purple2 eyes staring back, hinting towards the protagonist’s fate. The repeated Fig. 1 FNAF 2 view from behind the mask (above) and FNAF SL inside a springlock suit on night 4 (below)

1 Vagueness about the protagonist’s identity is a recurring theme. In FNAF 1, the player is assumed to play as ‘Mike Schmidt’ which is the name on the paycheck at the end of the week. In FNAF 2, the name on the paycheck is ‘Jeremy Fitzgerald’ until night 5. The extra nights are played as ‘Fritz Smith’. In FNAF SL, the protagonist is referred to as ‘Eggs Benedict’, whose name turns out to be ‘Michael’ or potentially ‘Mike’. 2 Within the franchise, the color purple functions as an important signifier of the antagonist as the supposed killer is referred to as ‘the Purple Guy’ 10 use of eye-imagery emphasizes the focus on looking and the use of first-person perspective in FNAF, assisting the player to immerse him/herself into the fictional world. The different use of perspective in videogames compared to the horror film is related more broadly to the experience each has to offer. Whereas both film and videogames require a similar receptive state of the spectator/gamer, it does not lead to the same experience (Perron Silent Hill 11). Let’s first consider the similarities in film and videogames concerning their ‘receptive states’. Both film and videogames provide an experience of ‘recreational terror’ which in Pinedo’s definition includes “the element of control, the conviction that there is nothing to be afraid of turns stress/arousal (beating heart, dry mouth, panic grip) into a pleasurable sensation. Fear and pleasure commingle” (in Habel & Kooyman 3). Similarly, Bantinaki agrees with Smuts’ argument that “art provides a degree of safety not present in real-life situations that could arouse intense negative emotions and, second, the control that we usually enjoy in our encounter with fiction does not let the pain involved in such emotion pass a certain threshold (386). The element of control – being able to stop the experience at any time – allows the audience to possibly enjoy the negative emotions: the thrill (385). To come back to Perron’s observation, even though both media require the same receptive state, they do not create a similar experience. Perron describes cinema as offering a more ‘collective’ experience as the spectator’s perspective is linked to an “invisible third- person party” through which they have either omniscient awareness or limited knowledge concerning a particular character or group of characters’ immediate experiences (Silent Hill 11; Habel & Kooyman 6). Most videogames3, on the other hand, reduce the plurality of viewpoints but enhance the intensity of identification (Habel & Kooyman 6). The videogame experience is a personal one, in which the space between the player and the action on-screen is mediated through the controller, reducing the space between body and screen: “(…) the solitary experience of the character mirrors the player’s experience, where both mind and body are engaged by the manipulation of the controller, from which emerge vibrations linked to the context of the game (heart poundings, physical pain). Here, one properly experiences the self” (Chauvin qtd. Silent Hill 11). Although I will consider videogames as a potential collective experience in chapter 3, in general videogames are associated playing alone in the dark, creating a immersive, personal experience. The reduced distance between player and character brings the action much closer to the player’s own body, creating the feeling of the monster attacking ‘you’ rather than the character on-screen (Calleja in Pinchbeck 79; Perron

3 Exceptions can be found. Heavy Rain (Quantic Dream, 2010) or Until Dawn (Supermassive Games, 2015) for example follows a more cinematic approach featuring perspectives from multiple characters 11

Horror Video Games 121). A first-person perspective is not unique to FNAF, but it may allow for a more intense experience of terror.

1.2 Suspense and Fear through Diegetic Elements Besides perspective, there are more ways in which the horror genre creates feelings of fear and suspense. Historically, (horror) film has been associated with ‘the spectacle’ and being physically triggered. During the screening of the Lumière brothers’ first film, audiences were shocked at seeing a moving train.

Its origin [horror], indeed, is the origin of all moving pictures, going right back to the Lumière brothers' 1895 exhibition of A Train Entering a Station, a short documentary sequence to which early audiences reacted with a frenzy, ducking away from the seemingly onrushing train on the screen and fleeing the auditorium in fear. Of course, the Lumières' little film was not a horror film as we've come to know it, but it provoked fear and psychological unease in its audiences (who had not yet learned how to “look" at movies”, and that is precisely how the horror film has always functioned historically.

- David Bartholomew “The Horror Film” in The Political Companion to American Film p. 205

In 1895, a screen featuring a huge, moving train provided sensation as it was never done before. Film provided its audience with a new kind of spectacle that differed from the theatre: “Unlike the theatrical startle (where sheer loudness can function much as it does in real space), the modern film-based startle relies heavily on precise manipulations of editing and camera position, neither of which are available to the stage play” (Baird 15). Film as sensationalism still holds true in the horror genre in the form of death and violence: “Horror offers death as spectacle and actively promises transgression; it has the power to promote physical sensation (…)” (Krzywinska “Hands On Horror” 13). It evokes physical and emotional responses from the audience (Pinedo 27; Williams 4). The confrontation with violence and death is expected, which makes horror something the viewer voluntarily subjects himself to (Kawin 292). In horror film, death and violence is closely related to the (human) body. In “Film Bodies”, Linda Williams considers horror, alongside pornography and melodrama, a genre

12 drawing on (bodily) excess. Especially postmodern horror films have moved from the ‘act of telling’ to the ‘act of showing’ in the form of the mutilated body (Pinedo 21; Brophy 8). Williams discusses several features of the body genre, from which I focus on the ones that describe the relationship between genre and the body on-screen. First there is “the spectacle of a body caught in the grip of intense sensation or emotion” (4). Another feature is a form of ecstasy (ibid.). Ecstatic excesses appear in the form of violence, blood and shudder (9). They are marked visually by an uncontrollable convulsion or spasm of the body and aurally through screams and nervous gasps (4; Pinedo 27). Besides an on-screen association with the body, these images of bodies undergoing terror does something to our own bodies off-screen, whether it’s fear, disgust or even (nervous) laughter. Indeed, a common effect is the mimicry of emotion in the audience to what is shown on-screen (Williams 4). The body genre extends to videogames. Taking a less graphical approach, FNAF also brings the feeling of fear, shock and suspense to the player’s body. A key aspect of the game for example is its use of jumpscares. Jumpscares trace back to the startle effect in film. In 1942, the startle effect was used in the film Cat People (Lewton & Tourneur) in which a woman is followed by something on-screen left when a bus appears on-screen right (Baird 14). It has since also been referred to as ‘the bus effect’ and recurred countlessly in (horror) film (ibid.). According to Baird, the startle effect is created through the following elements: “A character presence, an implied off-screen threat and a disturbing intrusion (often accentuated by a sound burst) into the character’s immediate space” (15). Our cognitive reaction can be explained as a “microsecond failings to predict (perceptually anticipate) the identity, location, or status of a stimulus in a threatening context” (16). It is related to our observations and expectations of locations, identities (e.g. “the living die, the dead move, the limb becomes a snake, the friend a murderer”) and objects (e.g. breaking, falling, coming to standstill) which turn out differently from the way we expected it to be (18). Similarly, the jumpscare in FNAF occurs when the player fails to predict the animatronics’ location accurately. The jumpscare itself consists of a sudden, close-up appearance of the animatronic combined with a loud screeching sound which often catches the player by surprise. While sudden surprises are one of the most basic techniques to achieve scares and a physical reaction, the effect is oftentimes considers a cheap method as it is relatively easy to achieve (Perron “Sign of A Threat” n.p.). Therefore, surprise is frequently combined with suspense (ibid.). In the following two paragraphs, I look at how the game is designed to evoke feelings of fear and suspense. I start by discussing how a suspenseful mood is created through the diegetic elements that make up the storyworld, such as the setting and characters.

To start, the setting creates a suspenseful atmosphere through defamiliarization. In FNAF, the choice of setting - a children’s pizzeria with singing robots - does not immediately alert the player as something that should be feared. However, Freud describes the possibility of familiar objects or situations appearing to us as frightening which he defines as ‘unheimlich’ or ‘uncanny’ (Freud 2003). FNAF creates this feeling through the use of darkness, which defamiliarizes the player with the setting. While the restaurant setting appears familiar, it is usually not a place visited during the night. Dark settings are commonly used in horror as darkness is associated with evil and things that should be feared. Darkness brings the gamer into the ‘wanted emotional state’: “A fearful mood puts us on emotional alert, and we patrol our environment searching for frightening objects. Fear makes us notice dark shadows, mysterious noises and sudden movements and thus provides more possibly frightening cues” (Smith qtd. “Sign of a Threat” n.p.). The dark puts us in a heightened state of alert, which gets intensified by not being able to see very well, making it more difficult to detect potential threats. While the restaurant setting is still recognizable, being there during the dark, creates an unsettling experience. Similarly to the setting, animatronics used to entertain children are expected to be cute and harmless. The player may however experience the opposite (Fig. 2). The animatronics are not necessarily scary in themselves. However, as they are commonly associated with predictable (programmed) behavior, seeing them move around by themselves counters our knowledge of their

‘natural’ behavior. Ruth Amossy identified Fig. 2 The animatronics Bonnie, Freddy & Chica on three ways in which objects might be stage (from left to right) experienced as fearful: “1) transgressions of normality and elementary laws of the physical known, 2) harmless objects that become scary only through an abnormal and strange aggressive behavior and 3) objects already scary that undergo a hyberbolic processing” (qtd. Silent Hill 14). The animatronics inherit characteristics from all of these categories as the robots seem to have a mind of their own, move at random and attack the night security guard. Their unnatural, unexplained behavior is experienced as disturbing, as common expectations of ‘how robotic entities should work’ do not match up with reality.

1.3 Suspense and Fear through Interactive Gameplay Design Like the horror film, videogames thus aim to feelings of fear and suspense to the body of the player. However, besides spectating, videogames are able to create such feelings by offering an active role to the gamer (Chien 64; Hart 276; Krzywinska “Hands On Horror” 12). Agency in videogames refers to the amount of control the player has in the progress of the game narrative and can be defined as “the satisfying power to take meaningful action and see the result of our decisions and choices” (Murray 126). The added element of agency allows videogames to create a different, more intense experience of fear. Perron argues that while “cinema removes the body from the viewer” (Horror Video Games 121), survival horror in videogames can be “defined as an extended body genre because the body of the gamer is not only ‘caught up in an involuntary mimicry of the emotion or sensation of the body or screen’ (…) it is also urged to act and feel through its presence, agency and embodiment in the fictional world” (126). Suspense and fear thus arises from player interaction with the game. However, like other elements in the game, interactivity should be thought of as a structured experience (Kirkland 170). Rather than offering complete control, videogames are designed to regulate player control through a combination of pre-determined and self-determined elements (Krzywinska “Hands on Horror” 13). According to Krzywinska, the interchange between being-in-control and being-out-of-control intensifies and extends “the emotional and affective experiences” that are offered by the horror film (ibid.). Drawing on Krzywinska’s theory, Habel and Kooyman refer to the elements managing control as ‘agency mechanics’ (1). Based on their article, I discuss several agency mechanics to demonstrate (the restriction of) agency in FNAF and how they create feelings of fear and suspense. According to Krzywinska’s theory, “the interactive dimension of horror games enables a more acute experience of losing control than that achieved by most horror films” because “the player does have a sense of self-determination; when it is lost, the sense of pre- determination is enhanced by the relative difference” (“Hands on Horror” 20). As soon as the little bit of control is lost, the player experiences an intense feeling of vulnerability. As the horror film is completely pre-determined, the spectator does not experience such an intense switch between being-in-control and being-out-of-control. In several videogames, clunky controls have added to this feeling of vulnerability: “While fixed camera angles, dodgy controls and clunky combat were seen as problematic in most games, the traditional survival horror took them as a positive boon (…) restricted cameras caused players to fear every step they took, while characters that couldn’t hold a gun steady encouraged players to flee rather

Fig. 3 The office (left) and camera view (right) in the original FNAF than fight” (Sterling qtd. Silent Hill 110). Bulky or clumsy controls add to the creation of a more “oppressive world” as it limits the character’s defense, making enemies more imposing and in effect, create a “greater sense of foreboding” (Kalogeropoulos in Roux-Girard 166). The point-and-click gameplay in FNAF can also be experienced as restricting, as it makes the player unable to move fast between left and right. This is merely one example of how FNAF makes use of the dual character of agency, as more agency mechanics can be identified. Firstly, space both restricts and enables agency in FNAF. A common strategy to create agency and a sense of player choice is to offer large, fictional worlds for the player to discover. A popular horror narrative demands players to escape from an unsettling, haunted place by finding clues in each area in order to move forward. Although the player’s path is still pre-determined, there is a degree of freedom in moving around and deciding what clues to follow up on, finding out more about the space as they go. In opposition, the fictional pizzeria in FNAF consists of a few rooms of which the security office functions as the main setting (Fig. 3). The player is not able to explore this room in any way except for viewing. Progress also does not result in new spaces or new perspectives on the rooms – it is the same setting throughout the whole game. It should be added that ‘viewing’ as the main gameplay mechanic both restricts and enables control. Whereas curiosity often gets punished in the horror film, active looking and exploring is motivated in videogames: horror games are designed to compel players to investigate and overcome danger in order to uncover the full story (Krzywinska “Hands On Horror” 20). FNAF moves in-between as ‘looking’ is both punished and rewarded. The game demands the player to actively look at the security cameras to keep track of the monsters’ position. Not checking the cameras or the blind spots at the doors results in ‘game-over’. However, camera-watching can also be a disadvantage as a) it uses power and b) it enhances fear. Flipping through the cameras can be an extremely stressful experience as the player aims to locate the animatronics as fast as possible. Not being able to find them quickly

Fig. 4 The animatronic ‘Bonnie’ appearing close on camera (left) and jumpscaring the player (right)

results in panic. Simultaneously, the sudden appearance of the animatronic on the camera may produce a startle effect as they sometimes appear closely on-screen (Fig. 4). A third mechanic is the lack of weapons. When Amnesia: The Dark Descent (Frictional Games, 2010) came out, it distinguished itself from titles like Resident Evil (Capcom, 1996) and Silent Hill (Konami, 1999) through its increased vulnerability by not offering a weapon to the player. Its only option was to run and hide. Similarly, the protagonist in FNAF does not have any weapons to defend himself with. The only way to escape is watch the cameras in order to close the adjacent doors on time. Taking it a step further from Amnesia, FNAF furthermore lacks the possibility to run. The point-and-click gameplay prevents the player from moving at all. Rather than exploring rooms and running from monsters, the player has to escape the establishment from within the office, keeping the animatronics out. The restriction of movement as well as the lack of weapons massively increases the character’s vulnerability. While other horror games provide the option to run or fight, the only way to survive in FNAF is to act on time. A fourth mechanic is resource management. Having to pay attention to factors that influence gameplay negatively, limits what one can do. The player has no choice but to follow up on these instructions to complete the game. In FNAF for example, using the cameras and closing the doors drain power. If completely empty, the doors will stay open for the animatronics to come in (Fig. 5). Later games have complicated resource management with added tasks such as winding up a music box (FNAF 2) and rebooting the control systems (FNAF 3). The multiplicity of tasks must be completed on top of the main task of watching the cameras, which increases the feeling of stress on players during their gaming experience. Related to these tasks is the mechanic of time. The tasks need to be performed in

17 limited time, as taking too long results in a jumpscare. The intensity of the experience is fueled by “the player’s experience of hope (in relation to reaching a particular goal), second, the experience of fear (in relation to losing or failing in the game), and finally, the experience of Fig. 5 When the player runs out of power, the uncertainty (what makes reaching the goals of the screen goes dark. After a while, Freddy’s jingle can be heard along with two glowing eyes as the player game uncertain)” (Järvinen 94). The added time anxiously waits for the jumpscare pressure adds to the feeling of uncertainty as it hinders the player’s ability to perform the task (ibid.). Time also plays a role in the form of a cycle. Each night takes 6 hours in fictional time, which are counted down in the corner of the screen. As the hours (and days) progress, the game’s difficulty increases. The countdown may intensify the player’s feeling of hope as s/he draw near to the goal. Simultaneously the fear of failing becomes more prominent as the game becomes significantly harder and the stakes become higher (losing means starting over at 12AM). Another mechanic is the lack of knowledge concerning the animatronics’ behavior. Instead of being able to learn about how to defeat or avoid a monster, FNAF’s animatronics move at random and cannot be defeated. There is no specific strategy to survive each night. The player does have control over when to use the resources and for how long. Players have to become trained at finding an efficient way to use the cameras and doors without using too much power. A last mechanic that complicates avoiding the mechanics is the graphical style and lighting. Although the first game does not mention a specific year, it is set before modern HD technologies. As the player has to use the security cameras to locate the animatronics, the images are a bit grainy. Furthermore, as the game takes place during nighttime, the rooms are poorly lit. This makes it more difficult for the player to detect potential danger. All of the discussed factors restrain player control. The lack of control and options to defend oneself causes high vulnerability, making it difficult to keep control of the situation. The lack of agency in FNAF creates a heightened sense of ‘weakness’ or ‘defenselessness’. Compared to film, videogames are thus able to intensify the feeling of fear and suspense through the added element of agency. In FNAF, feelings of fear and suspense arise from both the diegetic and interactive elements in the game which lead up to the inevitable shock. Especially the (active) role of the gamer provides for a more personal, intense horror experience. While in some horror games, a

18 monster may not appear for a longer period of time, the element of surprise is very evident in FNAF. Rather than exploration of the game world and its mysteries, FNAF’s gameplay is focused on creating the feeling of panic and paranoia. The gameplay demands that the player keeps track of many elements but concentrating too much on these tasks may also be a disadvantage. It creates a cycle in which the player tries to reduce fear by actively looking which decreases the power meter, creating more fear. There is a constant pressure to stay in control, even when the game makes it hard to keep control, because the player knows that mistakes are instantly punished by a jumpscare. Gaming pleasure derives from mastering the system within the unpredictable, fictional world: “A leading pleasure of games is that they provide an ordered, predictable system which affords players a multisensory, clearly demarcated affirmation of their skill, competency and autonomy, thereby providing a counterweight to an arbitrary, unpredictable and anxiety-inducing real world” (Krzywinska “Gaming’s Gaming Horror” 295). However, survival horror games do no offer the same form of mastery: “Survival means scraping through, simply to face yet another dire situation, rather than providing any clear signification of dominance, and moral distinctions are obscured” (296). In FNAF, players may become trained handling the different mechanics, but each night brings new challenges. The clock striking at 6AM offers a quick breath of air (a small reward) before the next night initiates. This chapter discussed how, compared to the passive viewing practices of film, videogames create immersion by giving the player a sense of control. Especially horror games rely on this sense of agency, as fear is created through the interchange of enabling and restricting player control. FNAF in particular offers very little control in its gameplay, which can easily be lost, resulting in a tense experience. The gameplay differs from both other horror titles and film by offering a repetitive experience that is motivated by resource management and reaction time, rather than narrative progression. However, even though FNAF does not offer a linear narrative that unfolds over time, storytelling does play a large role in its success. The next chapter takes a closer look at its non-linear and fragmented narrative to explain how FNAF creates mystery and engages the audience through its storytelling.

2. Storytelling in FNAF Whereas gameplay is one way in which FNAF distinguishes itself, its storytelling techniques are another part of its success. Its story can be described as a complex (whodunit) narrative, which Elsaesser describes as stories that play tricks on either the character or the audience (13). Buckland adds that complex narratives “embrace nonlinearity, time loops, and fragmented spatio-temporal reality” (6). Within complex narratives “the boundaries between different levels of reality, are riddled with gaps, deception, labyrinthine structures, ambiguity, and overt coincidences. They are populated with characters who are schizophrenic, lose their memory, are unreliable narrators, or are dead (but without us – or them – realizing)” (ibid.). Moreover, Elsaesser notes that the audience can get “passionately involved in the worlds” created: “They study the characters’ inner lives and back-stories and become experts in the minutiae of a scene, or adept at explaining the improbability of an event” (13). This aspect of complex stories returns in chapter 4. According to Buckland, complexity is established on both the level of narration (storytelling) and narrative (story) (6). Although the narrative in videogames is mainly pre- determined, interactivity is offered in the form of discovering and interpreting story elements. To discuss complexity in FNAF, I therefore focus on the level of narration (storytelling) by distinguishing three different techniques that I refer to as layered, serial and transmedia storytelling. By analyzing storytelling techniques, I create a better understanding of how the game series works as a whole and how it guides players from one title to the next. The first technique focuses on the creation of complexity within each individual game through the use of different narrative layers. The second discusses the relationship between the main titles as bits of lore are spread out across the different games, motivating players to find connections that make up the complete, linear storyline. Lastly, transmedia storytelling explains how other types of media have extended the FNAF universe beyond the games, providing completely new takes on the story while simultaneously giving new insight in the lore of the main games. Rather than separate methods, the techniques work together and often overlap with each other.

2.1 Layered Storytelling Before discussing how the narrative moves in between and beyond games, I discuss the relationship between the story and plot when considering the FNAF games as standalone titles. Each game consists of two layers of narration: the basic plot line and an underlying layer of narration which contains pieces of lore that relate to the more complicated overall story. While the plot in each game is relatively simple and straightforward, players are able to

20 dig deeper and find clues within each game that relate to the larger, overall lore. To demonstrate, the story of the first FNAF game can be placed in the following structure:

a) previous security guard gets killed in his last week on the job while recording messages for his successor b) newspaper excerpt informs the player about a job offer at local pizzeria c) protagonist starts his first week on the job d) protagonist learns from the recorded message that the animatronics are left in ‘free- roaming mode’ at night and will attempt to attack (Night 1) e) protagonist learns from the recorded message about an incident called ‘The Bite of ’87’ (Night 1) f) protagonist learns from the recorded message that the previous guard got attacked (Night 4) g) protagonist survives all five nights h) protagonist receives paycheck/end of the game

The first FNAF game features a simple plot in which the game starts at event (b) from which the story continues to follow linearly (Buckland 2). In this simple structure, suspense is created by not including event (a). As the player’s knowledge is aligned with the protagonist, the player is merely able to speculate about this event though (f) (Branigan 75). Mystery thus arises as a result from the “the disparity of knowledge” which means that “narration comes into being when knowledge is unevenly distributed - when there is a disturbance or disruption in the field of knowledge” (66). The disturbance of knowledge is also recognized by Barthes’ hermeneutic code as part of the five codes existing in a narrative. The hermeneutic code includes “various (formal) terms by which an enigma be distinguished, suggested, formulated, held in suspense, and finally disclosed” (19). These are elements that reveal fragments of a mystery, creating suspense before disclosing the mystery fully. They are instable, fragmented and can be characterized as “flickers of meaning” (ibid.). In FNAF, (f) reveals information about (a) but only partial. It simultaneously raises more questions left unanswered: Which animatronic attacked the guard? Did he die? Why did he get attacked? Hermeneutic codes are furthermore characterized by multivalence and reversibility, as they refrain from (logic) structure and mainly function “to demonstrate that this field can be entered from any number of points, thereby making depth and secrecy problematic” (ibid).

The partial information leaves the story open to interpretation in which the players make up different conclusions from the information given. In this example, the first layer of narration consists of events (b) to (h). The plot provides enough information to a player who is not invested in the FNAF lore. This kind of player does not care about the reason why the guard got attacked. Rather, (s)he has enough information knowing that ‘something’ strange is happening in the FNAF universe, and does not feel the need to investigate any further. The game has a closed ending, the protagonist survives, so why does it matter to speculate about (a)? However, as chapter 4 will demonstrate, there are players who take pleasure in dissecting the full story. The hidden second layer consists of the story elements that are only revealed to investigative players. Besides the mystery created around (a), the game provides more ways which allows a player to delve deeper into the story. Within the first game for example, there are changing elements in the setting e.g. the appearance of four different newspaper articles on the wall which inform of a police investigation of missing children (Fig. 6), regular posters changing to drawings on crying children and the appearance of the text ‘it’s me’ (Fig. 7). These clues provide new ways of interpreting the story, helping the player to figure out the backstory, while simultaneously they provoke more questions. On the one hand, the newspaper clippings offer a motive for the restaurant being haunted: it suggests the possibility of the animatronics representing the missing children who are trying to take revenge on the killer and/or night guard (they may be the same person). On the other hand, the events discussed in the articles seem unrelated to the plot of this game. Rather these events seem to play out in the second game, in which the Phone Guy mentions an ongoing investigation on night 4, leading to restaurant shutting down on night 6 because “someone used one of the suits”. From the newspaper clippings in the first game, the player can make up that the suit was used to lure the children. While the articles mention the suspect is a man, the phone call on night 5 Fig.6 Changing newspaper clippings on the wall reveal bits of lore

22 in FNAF 2 narrows the killer’s identity to one of the restaurant’s employees: “The building is on lockdown, no one is allowed in or out, y’know, especially concerning any previous employees”. This example demonstrates that layered storytelling works together with FNAF’s serialized structure. While the appearance of the newspaper clippings is only vaguely related to the plot of the first game, it becomes more meaningful in relation to the other games, completing the pieces of the backstory. Story elements belonging to the second, narrative layer within each game, depend on players to be attentive and are not so much related to the individual game’s plot, but rather to the overall story. Players are able to take pleasure in finding the hidden clues and make connections between the games. The layered structure is continued and complicated in the games following up the original. FNAF 2 introduced (‘death’) minigames which appear when the player fails. The screen turns into an Atari-style minigame, in which the player has to complete a task as one of the animatronics. In FNAF 2 and FNAF SL, the minigame(s) are generated at random. In FNAF 3, the player triggers the minigames by clicking certain items. In both cases, it takes effort from the player to find and complete the minigames. Failure does not always result in a minigame. A player will thus have to deliberately fail multiple times to unlock the minigames, especially as there are several in FNAF 2. Although the minigames in FNAF 3 are triggered less randomly, the actions that need to be performed in order to unlock them, are often not straightforward. The player has to pay attention in order to click certain items or posters suddenly appearing, and even put a code in a hidden number pad on the wall. The complexity Fig. 7 The ‘east hall’ changes from original posters to the text ‘it’s me’ to posters of crying children stimulates players to revisit the

23 games multiple times and perhaps even turn to the community to share knowledge (see chapter 4). For lore-seeking players, the reward is large as the minigames contain important story elements. During the ‘Give Cake’ minigame in FNAF 2 for example, the killer is identified as ‘the Purple guy’ as the player witnesses the murder of child outside of the restaurant while giving cake to the children in a Freddy costume (Fig. 8). The minigame in FNAF SL reveals more about the faith of the little girl that the player hears speaking in between the nights. Moreover, minigames in FNAF 3 and FNAF SL have an extra function, as they do not only provide more information about the overall story, but they have to be completed successfully in order to get an extra ending. For fans of the gameplay, multiple endings add replay value. For lore-seeking players, the added endings complicate their work, as it takes extra work to find out how to unlock the other ending and it puts into question which (part of the) endings are canon to the series. Both FNAF 3 and FNAF SL feature a ‘real’ ending and a ‘fake’ ending. Even though the fake ending is officially not considered canon to the overall story, it sometimes includes hints about the game’s lore. In FNAF SL for example, completing the minigame unlocks ‘the private room’. This room refers to FNAF 4 in several different ways. When entering the code ‘1983’ on the keypad on the wall, the television screens suddenly reveal to be surveilling the house in which FNAF 4 takes place. Moreover, next to the television screens, there is a Freddy plushie holding a walkie-talkie that resembles the stuffed bear that accompanies the child in FNAF 4. Although this ending is not canon to the series, this unlocked room seem to include clues that relate FNAF SL to FNAF 4. Despite its simple design, FNAF is able to create different experiences. While the basic plot in itself may be enough to play through the game, players looking for the complete narrative experience are able to go into depth. According to Hart, videogames are able to create personal experiences through engagement. Besides physical engagement, which refers to the use of the controller and the action on-screen, Hart mentions intellectual engagement: “Making choices based on the information the game provides, and the outcomes of these choices [which] determine the shape of the gameplay Fig. 8 ‘Give Cake’ minigame reveals ‘Purple Guy’

24 experience” (276; added brackets). When the player decides to actively search for narrative clues, their playing style and experience is different from a player who is merely interested in completing the games, as the former might be more invested in finding the minigames for example. Although games offer a pre-conceived experience, individual elements are subject to interpretation: “Most game elements are composed statically (…) videogame elements are perceived dynamically. The way a player perceives the music, visual elements or story—and the messages the player understands through these elements—are subject to constant changes” (277). Each player is able to interpret the (story) elements differently: “The player's unique series of actions during gameplay evolves into an interpretation of the designers' complete, preconceived game experience” (273). Thus, layered storytelling is able to satisfy different types of players. While the basic plot is enough for players to complete the game, the extra layer of narration brings more complexity to the game as well as new ways to interact with the game.

2.2 Serialized Storytelling Serialized storytelling is a technique often used in television, in which a narrative plays out over a number of episodes (Hernández-Pérez & Rodríguez 42). Recently, several videogames including the horror game The Walking Dead (Telltale Games, 2012), have picked up on this episodic form of storytelling. FNAF has a similar structure, yet instead of episodes, the story unfolds over several games. Serialized storytelling allows for character development and longer, more complex narratives due to their lack of closure (Leavenworth n.p.). As FNAF does not have any recurring main characters, I will focus on the latter, more specifically how the serial narrative draws on a combination of expectation, mystery and interpretation. Drawing from the previous paragraph, FNAF’s storyline works through raising questions and providing partial answers. Noël Carroll refers to stories based on question/answer structures as erotetic narratives (130). Erotetic narratives work by generating questions, either by showing scenes, situations, and events early in the exposition which relate to later events (ibid.) or by showing an action but delay the outcome of this action (131)4. As an effect: “The concept of the question, as well, enables us to explain one of the most apparent audience responses to popular narratives: expectation. That is, the audience expects answers to the questions that the narrative saliently poses about its fictional world” (132).

4 Although not specified in his text, the former relates to the hermeneutic code and the latter to proairetic code as discussed by Barthes. In discussing FNAF, I mainly focus on hermeneutics. 25

This concept also applies to FNAF. Carroll argues that suspense based on question/answer structures can arise from either micro-questions concerning a specific situation within the plot or macro-questions related to the overall storyline (136). As shown through the example of the newspaper articles, events that appear in one game, on a ‘micro’ level, often relate to the overall ‘macro’ story. It raises questions that are to be answered elsewhere in the franchise. The creation of expectation as an effect, I argue, plays a huge role in the success of FNAF. The lack of answers leaves the audience with a feeling of expectation that is not fulfilled, motivating them to actively search for more clues as well as continue to play other games in the franchise. Rather than actions relating to later events, as Carroll discusses, FNAF complicates the narrative even more by spreading the timeline over different games in non-linear order. For players theorizing about FNAF’s lore, it becomes more difficult to piece the complete narrative together when they first have to figure out what the linear order of events is. FNAF complicates the timeline by a) not releasing the main games in chronological order and b) the events that appear within a game may relate to previous or later events in the timeline. Firstly, players are for example most likely to conclude that FNAF 2 and FNAF 4 take place before FNAF 1. Such conclusions are not straightforward as players have to pay attention to small, sometimes contradictory details. In FNAF 1, there is never a mention of time and place. Players are only informed about the mysterious ‘Bite of ‘87’ which presumably takes place before the events of the first game. When

FNAF 2 came out, it was assumed to be a sequel to the first game, especially since the same animatronics appear in withered form. However, the paycheck players receive at the end of the game clearly states the year 1987, which led many players to conclude the game is a

Fig. 9 Evidence for FNAF 4 being set in 1983 versus 1987 prequel after all. While the order of

26 the trilogy was settled (FNAF 3 clearly took place in the future), the release of FNAF 4 fueled new debates around the timeline. The appearance of the date 1983 on a television screen led many to the conclusion that FNAF 4 takes place that year (Fig. 9). However, there are also strong hints for the game to refer to the ’87 incident as the child protagonist gets bitten by an animatronic at the end of the game (Fig. 9). These examples show how the storyline gets complicated through ambiguity over the timeline. To understand larger plot holes, players first have to figure out how the events in the different games are related to each other and in what order. Ambiguity motivates players to play each game in the series and perhaps even revisit some of the older ones, as the feeling of expectation is stretched: each new game in the series has the promise of offering new insights, while also creating more mystery. Secondly, as the games consist of several layers, not all the story elements in the games are placed in chronological order. As discussed in the previous paragraph, the minigames in FNAF 2 do not necessarily relate to the plot of that game. The ‘Give Cake’ minigame is the first time the player learns about the killer. As the animatronics are already haunted in FNAF 2, this event must have occurred before this game takes place. Furthermore, the phone calls often include relevant information about earlier points in the timeline. In FNAF 2, the player learns about the original restaurant: “We are trying to contact the original restaurant owner. I think the name of the place was Fredbear’s Family Diner or something like that”. In FNAF 3, the recordings include instructions on how to use the company’s ‘springlock’ suits and proceeds to mention an accident concerning the suits on the following night. In FNAF SL, the player gets kidnapped by the antagonist and placed inside a suit: “Try not to wiggle. You are inside something that came from my old pizzeria”. Due to this reference and mechanic of winding up ‘springlocks’, attentive players will recognize this suit as a springlock suit. For players knowing the suit’s history and vulnerability from FNAF 3, this scene causes extra tension. For players interested in the lore, the repeated mention of an old restaurant, adds new plot holes. As the ‘old restaurant’ is not covered by any of the current games, the FNAF narrative thus extends beyond the games. As an effect, more questions are added which players have proceeded to fill with their own interpretations. In short, serialized storytelling draws on the feeling of expectation. By spreading bits of lore across the different games and extending the lore beyond the games, the FNAF mystery been complicated. As the lack of answers is mainly met with more questions, players are motivated players to find more clues within each games and making connections between the games.

2.3 Transmedia Storytelling Besides a narrative relationship between the main games, other forms of media have extended FNAF’s universe by adding new stories. A storyworld spreading over multiple media channels is defined by Henry Jenkins as a transmedia story: “A transmedia story unfolds across multiple media platforms, with each text making a distinctive and valuable contribution to the whole. In the ideal form of transmedia storytelling, each medium does what it does best (…)” (Convergence Culture 96). Besides the involvement of different media channels, transmedia stories are characterized by complex storyworlds and audience engagement (Ciancia 43). Indeed, an important feature of transmedia storytelling, is creating a world that cannot be captured within one single medium (Convergence Culture 114). Klastrup and Tosca have listed the following components of transmedia worlds: Mythos is “the central knowledge one needs to have in order to interact with or interpret events in the world accordingly”; topos is “the setting of the world in a specific historical period and detailed geography”; and ethos includes “the explicit and implicit ethics of the world and (moral) index of behaviour” which refers to the way “the good and the bad behave, and what behaviour can be accepted as ‘in character’ or rejected as ‘out of character’ in that world” (12). These elements function to create consistency and recognition across the franchise (Roig in Scolari 47; Convergence Culture 113). Besides a complex storyworld, audience engagement is a key characteristic of transmedia stories. Because of their depth, transmedia stories motivate fan engagement and sustain loyalty (ibid.). The different ways in which fans have engaged with FNAF will be discussed in the following chapters. Although FNAF extends as a transmedia object to the website and the game files, this chapter focuses on how the spin-off game FNAF World and the novel The Silver Eyes fit into the lore of the main games. Usually, the multiple stories or story segments all contribute to the larger narrative (Convergence Culture 95). This is the case with the main games. Its serial structure is part of transmedia storytelling (“Confessions of an Aca-Fan” n.p.). The spin-off stories on the other hand, seem to be separate entities parallel to the narrative told by the games. A statement on Steam by Cawthon describes the relationship between the novel and the games as the following:

The games and the books should be considered to be separate continuities, even if they do share many familiar elements. So yes, the book is canon, just as the games are. That doesn't mean that they are intended to fit together like two puzzle pieces.

[...] The book is a re-imagining of the Five Nights at Freddy's story, and if you go into it with that mindset, I think you will really enjoy it.

Rather than fitting FNAF’s transmedia world “like two puzzle pieces”, both the spin-off game and the novel are separate entities which share similarities to FNAF’s mythos, topos or ethos. The relationship between the main games and other forms of media is that these new, seemingly unrelated stories, include references that tell us more about the universe established in the main games. Despite FNAF World being another videogame, it provides a very different experience from the main titles, which is why I consider it part of transmedia storytelling. Although FNAF World includes some horror references, it does not aim to constitute a horror experience. Instead, FNAF World offers a meta perspective on the franchise. This meta view is created through satirical comments that break the fourth wall. One of the endings for example states: “Congratulations… You have beat an imaginary monster in an imaginary game, without taking any risks, and without finding anything interesting on the easiest possible difficulty”. Indeed, some have interpreted FNAF World as simply a parody or joke. I want to focus on two more endings, which in my perspective, describe two different storylines in the game that demonstrate the meta level in FNAF World. Following the basic plot in the game, the player learns from Freddy that “something bad is happening on the flipside”. In the game’s true ending, the player faces Scott Cawthon as the villain. After his defeat, the character states: “Was I REALLY the villain in your mind? I mean sure, this is one way of bringing the story to a halt, but surely there was a more satisfying end. I just do what is demanded of me! I fill your insatiable gullets with more and more and more (…)”. What does this mean? Instead of recreating the topos established in the main games, FNAF World takes a different approach by suggesting its story takes place inside FNAF’s game files. The flipside can be interpreted as Fig. 10 The character ‘Fredbear’ in FNAF ‘the real world’, especially since the villain character FNAF 4 (top) referenced in FNAF World clearly refers to Cawthon himself. The game, and (below) especially the villain’s lines, reflects on the game-developing process by commenting on the

29 creative struggles of the creator and experiences with criticism and pressure from fans. Thus, FNAF World gave the game developer a voice to communicate to his audience about some of the discourses surrounding the franchise. As chapter 4 will also discuss, communication between the developer and the audience is a key element in establishing FNAF as a transmedia franchise. While the basic plot seems unrelated to the main games, another storyline appears to be more closely related to the main games. Freddy appears multiple times throughout the game and serves as a narrator and as a guide to the player. Whenever the player does not skip through the dialogue quickly enough, Freddy appears to be glitching into Fredbear, the plushie bear from FNAF 4 (Fig.10). The FNAF 4 reference is confirmed as the game starts with FNAF 4’s signature line “I will put you back together”. Fredbear tells the player: “You have to help him find his way. You have to leave breadcrumbs for him”. He then leads the player to hidden clocks, which contain a minigame. Each minigame makes a clear reference to the hints needed in FNAF 3 to unlock the minigames that result in the ‘good ending’ (Fig. 11). What do these references mean for the overall storyline? In FNAF 4, Fredbear is suggested to be the person who tries to save the children from the Purple Guy. FNAF World is able to extend on this storyline as rather than fighting against the animatronics, the player plays as and works together with them. The ethos has changed: rather than the animatronics as scary and evil, they are friendly allies. Within the narrative “leaving breadcrumbs for him” can be interpreted as putting hints into the game files for the player to discover. Completing the minigames in FNAF World suggests that the player inserts the hints in the game files for the FNAF 3 player to solve. Through these hints, the good ending is unlocked: the children’s souls are set free.

Fig.10 In FNAF World (left), the player has to choose the correct code The same code appears in FNAF 3 (right)

Layered storytelling thus seemed to be continued in FNAF World. While the basic plot functions as a stand-alone story, the game includes FNAF lore through another layer of narration. This layer can only be discovered through unconventional actions – waiting for the character to glitch - and recognizing the references to the other games in the franchise. Because FNAF World is not completely tied to the mythos, topos or ethos from the main games, the game is able to create an entirely different experience while simultaneously adding to the storyworld established in the main series. The Halloween update to the game also includes a reference to the main games. Freddy tells the player of a new problem: “The problem now is that he has gone insane. We don’t know what he is making and we cannot reach the room where it’s being kept”. The person mentioned in the statement refers to a man working behind a desk in one of the buildings. On the one hand, this could be a reference to Cawthon working on a new game. On the other hand, the person could be the creator of the animatronics. In the game’s climax, the character gets killed after the words: “The show will begin momentarily. Everyone please stay in your seats”. The words refer Fig. 12a Death of the man behind the back to the teaser image of the new animatronic in FNAF desk in FNAF World SL (Fig. 12). In combination with the novel, the character of the creator becomes meaningful to the overall storyline. Compared to FNAF World, the novel shares a closer resemblance to the narrative of the games. The novel for example seems to share the same topos, as some of the descriptions are reminiscent of the restaurant in the games: the mention of a carousel, red checkered table cloths and the drawings on the walls. Moreover, a more detailed description of the springlock suits, including the information that the killer operated the Bonnie version, is a clear reference to FNAF 3. Also, the story in the book matches the assumed timeframe of the games as it includes a more Fig. 12b Teaser image of the new animatronic in FNAF Sister Location detailed description of the reason behind “Fredbear’s Family Diner” closing down in 1982 and a description of the missing children’s incident which is placed in 1985. The story itself takes place ten years later in 1995.

As Cawthon states on Steam, the novel “expands the mythos”, revealing “a human element never before seen in the games”. Even though the book should be considered a separate entity, it includes meaningful references that connect to and expand the overall storyline. The novel is the first in the FNAF franchise to personalize the two owners of the restaurant: Henry and William Afton. The inclusion of these characters connects the novel to FNAF World and FNAF SL. Henry shares a close resemblance to the character behind the desk in FNAF World as he is revealed to be the inventor of the animatronics. After the incidents, Henry is said to commit suicide by the hands of an animatronic which seems to refer to the scene witnessed in FNAF World. In the opening scene of FNAF SL, a dialogue is heard between an unknown man and ‘Mr. Afton’ questioning the design of the animatronics. Readers of the book have been extra attentive to this detail, as William Afton is revealed to be the killer in The Silver Eyes. This detail is not confirmed in the games. Yet, due to the clear references between the media objects, fans have deemed such details important in their theories. Similar to FNAF World, the novel is not tied to the mythos, topos and ethos of the main games which allows it to introduce new characters, perspectives and themes. In this way, The Silver Eyes as a transmedia extension breaks the repetitiveness in the franchise by re-imagining the story through a different medium. Transmedia storytelling offers new stories which can be consumed by itself while also offering new points of entry to the overarching FNAF universe. To highly engaged fans, transmedia storytelling offers more ways to engage, analyze and make connections between all the added pieces of lore. In this chapter, I discussed how storytelling has added complexity and mystery to the FNAF franchise. The different techniques for storytelling cooperate to make FNAF a complex transmedia object in which each added layer of content, “expands the range of potential meanings and intertextual connections within the franchise” (Convergence Culture 113). While the gameplay is simple and repetitive, the complex story adds a layer of depth to the game. It also adds the possibility for players to engage both within and outside of the game, as will be shown in the following chapters. While the gameplay is focused on a short-term experience of tension and fear, the narrative provides a more long-term experience that extends to the other games and transmedia extensions. It also adds replay value as the story may motivate players to revisit the games to uncover all layers and new pieces of lore. Each newly revealed clue to the overall narrative, functions as a form of gratification. It prevents the repetitive gameplay from being boring and motivates the player to complete the full game(s). Storytelling however, does not interfere with the playing experience. Each game (incl. FNAF World) is structured around a simple, basic plot that allows for a complete

32 gaming experience. For lore-seeking players, each new game or media platform offers bits and pieces to the lore which may only enhance the experience. To get a better understanding of the different ways fans have engaged with the gameplay and storytelling, the following chapters derive from the game itself and instead, look at different forms of fan engagement on YouTube. By discussing the role of YouTube, it will become clear how relationships are formed between the game and other components, which together create a sustainable media assemblage.

3. FNAF and Let’s Plays So far, I have discussed how FNAF’s gameplay and storytelling contributed to the game’s popularity, offering various entry points into the franchise. A large part of its success however, can be ascribed to the role of YouTube as the platform provided a space for both players and fans to engage with the game in different ways. First, I focus on the aspect of play and how YouTube Let’s Plays have moved videogames outside of the private sphere as a form of entertainment. The next chapter discusses how the platform provided a space for fans to discuss and to create content. Both chapters emphasize the role of community as an important aspect of YouTube which has benefited the FNAF franchise. The high engagement within these online (fan) communities keeps people occupied and talking about the game, keeping FNAF relevant over a long(er) period of time.

3.1 The Origins of Let’s Plays on YouTube To start with play, Let’s Play videos can be defined as “videos that fans create of themselves playing video games, coupling game play footage with simultaneously recorded commentary” (Nguyen n.p.). The term Let’s Play derives from the forum ‘Something Awful’ on which gamers posted walkthroughs of videogames in the form of screenshot sequences. The forum thread of I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream (The Gamers Guild, 1995) featured the first Let’s Play in video format in December 2005, when YouTube was not yet one year old. Whereas this video merely featured the game footage, this format was soon picked up by gamers such as Slowbeef (Michael Sawyer), who started adding video commentary and uploading these videos to YouTube. What made YouTube a suitable platform for Let’s Play content? From its inception, the website has promoted the idea of low barriers for (amateur) users to participate. Taking the role of “facilitator, supporter and host” has been an important part of YouTube’s brand identity (Gillespie 353). Burgess and Green (1) argue:

YouTube was one of a number of competing services aiming to remove the technical barriers to the widespread sharing of video online. The website provided a very simple, integrated interface within which users could upload, publish and view streaming videos without high levels of technical knowledge and without the technological constraints of standard browser software and relatively modest bandwidth.

The low technological barrier was for example achieved by converting the uploaded videos to Flash instead of using a custom browser plug-in (Hartley 127). Back when the first Let’s Play videos were uploaded to YouTube, Flash was supported by nearly all computers. Despite the drop in quality, it made the videos easily accessible to a large amount of people. Another characteristic which lowers the barriers for amateurs to participate on YouTube, is its focus on “content sharing” rather than “the provision of high-quality video” (Burgess and Green 4). However, YouTube’s features were not unique compared to other video sharing platforms (1). The platform did differentiate itself through its mainstream success. Several different observations have been made to understand its appeal. Some have ascribed it to “YouTube’s implementation of four key features – video recommendations via the ‘related videos’ list, an email link to enable video sharing, comments (and other social networking functionality), and an embeddable video player” (Gannes qtd. Burgess and Green 2). Also, the video ‘Lazy Sunday’ as YouTube’s first break-out hit, including the copyright controversy that followed, may have contributed to its mainstream success (Burgess and Green 2). Not only did the debate bring attention to YouTube, the video’s popularity was one of the first examples of a video gone ‘viral’ and “demonstrated the potential of YouTube as an outlet for established media to reach out to the elusive but much-desired youth audience” (3). These observations demonstrate why YouTube is important in discussing FNAF’s success: it is both a sharing platform and a social medium, it has the power to quickly raise attention to a particular video or trend and it is better at reaching a young(er) audience than traditional media. Although there is no single, solid argument why YouTube was a good fit for Let’s Plays (compared to other video sharing platforms), its characteristics and mainstream popularity were certainly beneficial in the change from screenshots on a forum to video footage of people commenting on videogames played from their bedrooms. YouTube offered an ‘open and accessible’ space for amateurs to experiment with this new format and helped Let’s Plays to grow in popularity.

3.2 The Horror Genre as Entertainment Between 2005 and now, Let’s Plays have become an extremely popular and common genre on YouTube. In fact, the currently most subscribed channel PewDiePie (Felix Kjellberg) started out as a channel dedicated to Let’s Play and is well-known for its playthroughs of survival horror games. Indeed, the horror genre quickly became one of the most prominent genres as many Let’s Play channels chose to play and got many views from games such as Amnesia, Penumbra (Frictional Games, 2007) and Slender: The Eight Pages (Parsec Productions,

2012). What made horror such a suitable genre for Let’s Play? It is important to emphasize the entertainment aspect of Let’s Plays. Sjöblom and Hamari argue that audiences’ motivations to watch videogame streams could fall into the same category of consumption as comedy news watching (7). Compared to competitive communities such as e-sports, “Let’s Play broadcasts are usually informal and enjoyment as a viewer comes from what the player/performer adds to the experience. The success of a Let’s Play broadcaster is not based on their skill in the game but how entertaining they are as they play the game” (Smith et al. 133; see also Glas 83). Nguyen emphasizes the performance aspect of these videos in which “players execute the role of video game players” (n.p.): “Let’s Plays often provide one vehicle for these Internet figures to showcase their personalities, since their channels might include reviews of games, original comedy sketches, and alternate kinds of content” (ibid.). On top of content, YouTube channels are highly focused on the individual creator. In the case of Let’s Plays, it is as much about playing videogames as creating an entertaining experience. In what way can the horror genre be used to entertain? Chapter 1 discussed how the horror genre evokes an emotional reaction within the viewer/player’s own body ranging from screams of fear to “tension-breaking laughter” (Pinedo 27). In discussing fear and suspense in videogames, I have emphasized how the element of control contributes to the feeling of vulnerability. These characteristics apply to watching a horror film or playing a horror videogame. Yet, for an audience watching Let’s Play, the effect is double because the viewer watches two types of content simultaneously: the playthrough and footage of the person playing. Both may evoke a (bodily) reaction – fear and especially laughter - from the viewer. How? Hudson identifies the similarities between slapstick comedy and social behavior concerning videogames. First, he points to both videogames and slapstick sketches (performed in theater) drawing on a suspension of disbelief, which refers to the willingness to let go of reality and/or factual knowledge in order to immerse oneself in a fictional world (112, 113). Imagination taking over reality allows gamers “to project human or emotional qualities onto 3D avatars in virtual space” (113). Imagination may convey humor when Let’s Players engage with the virtual character(s) or objects in the game. In his Amnesia Let’s Plays, PewDiePie for example conveys humor by ascribing human personalities to objects in the game and interacting with them5. In FNAF Let’s Plays, humor relates more often to the second similarity between slapstick comedy and videogames: “the notion that joking is ‘an

5 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qD252CNzRmE 36 attack of control’” (113). Drawing on theory by Bergson, Ben Hudson explains slapstick humor in videogame videos as a form of incongruity: “The man slipping on the banana peel is not amusing because it is painful, but because it is incongruous. There has been a shift: control to chaos, organic to mechanical, upright to collapsed” (111). Humor in videogames may thus derive from the player losing control, which results in a scare that is often physically mimicked. In horror games, failure (in combination with a bodily reaction) is a very likely outcome. The first chapter pointed out how FNAF builds up tension by making it difficult for the player to keep in control of all elements. When failing, the player is met with a jumpscare which often results in screams, rage or kneejerk reactions. An illustrative example can be found in a FNAF Let’s Play by DanandPhilGAMES in which one of the YouTubers falls off his chair during a play session6. The player losing control of the game is funny to the audience as they witness both the playthrough and the reaction on-screen. While the footage of the game may evoke the feeling of fear for the second-degree viewer in much the same way as the Let’s Player, the inclusion of the player’s reaction also creates comedic effects for the second- degree viewer. Let’s Players play into fear as entertainment by uploading reaction compilations that highlight the responses. As an example, Markiplier who is considered the most popular FNAF Let’s Player, has uploaded several FNAF reaction compilations in which he sarcastically comments on his own playstyle7. Rather than creating a scary experience, Let’s Plays seem to aim on creating a comedic experience for the audience. While other genres of games may also generate such a reaction, the loss of control is an inherent characteristic of horror games, which makes the games suitable for Let’s Play. Another form of humor is “inside jokes based on a shared understanding of references to the game” (Hudson 114). This form of humor already refers to the community aspect of Let’s Play. For FNAF, the shared references within the Let’s Play communities was most strong after FNAF SL in which the Fig. 13 Collection of comments on the Let’s Plays of Markiplier and comment sections were flooded GT Live

6 https://youtu.be/aUlRECoOv04?t=13m50s 7 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNTBC7Qe-R0 37 with references (Fig. 13). To anyone unfamiliar with the game, such comments make no sense. However, for a fan who does recognize the reference, it serves as a form of pleasure because recognition serves a validation of membership of the community. Based on the observation of inside jokes, social behavior concerning FNAF may be explained using the concept of subcultural capital by Sarah Thornton. Based on Bourdieu’s concept of cultural capital, Thornton uses subcultural capital to refer to (inside) knowledge that raises one’s status or defines one’s membership within a subculture (11). Subcultural capital can either be objectified or embodied and is used to gain ‘hipness’ (12). Being able to recognize references to the game in the comment section of Let’s Plays may thus be used to define oneself as part of the FNAF community. The next paragraph complicates the notion of subcultures in relation to the Internet and discusses the relationship between Let’s Plays and the formation of online communities in more depth.

3.3 Videogames as a Collective Experience on YouTube Besides entertainment, social interaction is a key characteristic of Let’s Plays as they “make it possible (1) for the gamers uploading them to publicly and globally display, transmit and share their individual gaming experiences, and (2) for the watchers, in other words the gaming community and the generally interested broad public, to share opinions, interpretations and cultural understandings of the game, the Let’s Plays, the gamers behind the Let’s Plays, and their own gaming experiences” (Radde-Antwailer, Waltmathe & Zeiler 17). Social interaction within Let’s Play communities is based around a shared interest on either (or a combination of) the Let’s Player, the Let’s Play itself or the videogame played which enables conversation in e.g. the comment section of the YouTube channel. Indeed, the comment section is an important feature of YouTube to enable conversation between the channel and its audiences, as well as the viewers among themselves. Besides YouTube’s features, the Let’s Player plays an important role in creating a conversational context. In discussing vlogging, Burgess and Green have highlighted its ‘conversational character’, which is reminiscent of interpersonal face-to-face communication (54). Similarly to vlogs, conversation in the form of commentary in Let’s Plays can be reminiscent of face-to-face interaction. Like vlogs, Let’s Players use direct address, the use of eye contact, bodily gestures and simulate dialogue by for example asking (rhetorical) questions (Harley & Fitzpatrick 686, 687). Most channels have signature phrases that involve the audience in the introduction and ending. PewDiePie for example introduces his videos with “How’s it going bros” in which the word ‘bros’ is used to address the audience.

Similarly, Markiplier ends with “I will see you [points towards the camera] in the next video” which addresses the viewer both due to the word ‘you’ and by using the hand gesture. According to Harley and Fitzpatrick, another characteristic of creating a conversational context is the negotiation of simultaneous audiences which relates to the negotiation of public and private spheres (687). In Let’s Plays, an open, personal and informal sphere is created through emotion: “While walkthroughs are often instructional materials emphasizing expertise and thoroughness, which some Let’s Plays also provide, Let’s Plays often feature uncertainty and error as central to individual playing experiences. Through expressions of confusion, frustration, delight, surprise and embarrassment, Let’s Plays react to and comment on not only the game but also their actions and consequences in playing” (Nguyen n.p.). Rather than merely uploading successful playthroughs of a game, Let’s Play channels often include the many trials and errors in their videos. The playthrough of FNAF 4 by DanandPhilGAMES for example does not include any progress but merely shows frustration and embarrassment as Dan and Phil are unable to figure out how to play the game successfully8. Instead of success, Let’s Plays aim to illustrate the process from confusion and frustration in figuring out the gameplay to excitement when successfully beating the game. The inclusion of emotion and failure supports the feeling of liveness and the impression of a direct relationship between the gamer and the audience. However, rather than “transparent and direct presentations of player interiority (…) Let’s Plays offer constructions and performances of playing personalities” (Nguyen n.p.). In addition to the role of Let’s Players, the choice of videogames as topic also works in favor of establishing a sense of community. Strangelove considers community a shared imagining, defined by notions of shared interests (104). Likewise, Harley and Fitzpatrick emphasize sharing personal understandings or establishing common ground as a key feature for vloggers to create a relationship with their audiences (687). In Let’s Plays, the relationship between the Let’s Player and the audience, as well as the relationship between the viewers, is grounded in a shared interest in videogames. Previously, playing videogames has been discussed as an individual and active experience. However, bringing videogames to platforms such as YouTube has brought new experiences for playing: “Streaming represents a sea change in how players can share and collaborate, adding new sorts of social interactivity to an experience that was, for so long, solitary” (Walker 437). Indeed, the popularity of Let’s Plays have taken videogames outside the private sphere to create a more social experience.

8 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoXdECTY9Kc 39

According to Sjöblom and Hamari (2), a social experience is not strange to videogames:

Video games have had a certain social spectating element to them from their inception. In the early days of arcade games, people would gather around the person playing the game to see how they were doing and to cheer them on (Newman, 2004), and, later, LAN gatherings encouraged face-to-face interaction (Jansz & Martens, 2005). (….) With the emergence of video game streaming, we argue that a part of this social experience has been brought back to the gaming culture.

Although videogames do offer a more active and personal experience, passive viewing practices and a social aspect are not excluded from playing videogames. In fact, such practices may even add benefits to the experience: “Anecdotally, it has been assumed that watching others play does not provide the same thrills and affordances for escapism as playing games by oneself, as the spectator has less agency over the events of the game. On the other hand, watching others play may provide social gratifications that are commonly absent in a normal single-player experience” (Sjöblom & Hamari 2). To understand what the audience gains (or what motivates them) for being part of a community, I define online communities more generally. As many early works on (sub)cultures or communities are focused on offline groups, several researchers have pointed out how the Internet has complicated some of these subcultural notions. Kahn and Kellner for example argue that identities on the internet are ‘often hybridic and complex’ (…) and Healy describes the internet ‘as a loose collection or “ecosystem” of subcultures’ (in Robards & Bennett 306). Therefore, Robards and Bennett argue that communities formed on the Internet have moved past subcultural models of explanation: “The internet may well give rise to new, reflexively constructed notions of subculture through which young people include and exclude themselves from particular forms of cultural association” (307). “Subculture has become a discursive construct, more akin to a palette of tastes that the individual can draw from, modify and remix in achieving a reflexive understanding of self” (313). Thus, FNAF as an online community cannot be understood as a fixed, cohesive community. Motivations for (young) people to watch and/or participate in Let’s Plays may be mixed. Yet, subcultural theories may still apply. Thornton for example explains how membership is grounded in embodied knowledge, which is also reflected in online communities (see previous paragraph). Furthermore, the article by Hamilton et al. refers to

Fig. 14 Gameplay suggestions for FNAF Sister Location in the Let’s Play by Markiplier research by McMillan and Chavis to define a sense of community through “membership, influence, fulfillment of needs and emotional connection” (1318). The article shows how these aspects can also be applied to Let’s Play. Influence in Let’s Play translates to viewers being “attracted to streams where they are recognized by the streamer and other participants, and can participate in stream activities, such as gameplay” (ibid.). On YouTube, influence moves beyond merely gameplay suggestions in the comment section. PewDiePie’s interaction with in-game objects was for example referenced in fan mail, which Felix opened in a video on his channel9. Similarly, Markiplier interacted with an object in his Amnesia gameplay10 which led to his viewers sending him fan-made animations11 and games12 which he in turn played or uploaded to his channel. Rewarding participation by such interactions makes the viewer feel recognized and valued as an active member of the community. Moreover, fulfillment of needs is another reason for viewers to join a Let’s Play community, which takes different forms. Fulfillment of needs may be related to identity: “Emotional rewards such as sociability, the status of membership, and the success of the community” (ibid.). It could also be more closely associated with playing videogames: “Another common reward is the gaining of knowledge and skills available from other community members. In stream communities, this often takes the form of game skill and knowledge, which may be uniquely available from the streamer or their viewers” (ibid; Fig. 14). Let’s Play thus offers different forms of gratification which caters to the different needs of the audience. In addition to discussing the relationship between Let’s Plays and the audience, I discuss what Let’s Plays do for videogame franchises, specifically FNAF. Walker argues that online platforms have offered a space for alternative voices which are not tied to corporate messaging and industry publications (438). The communities formed around these streamers “sometimes offer an alternative to consumption-oriented ‘gamer culture’ which work to bring attention to social and political concerns, and which highlight the work of independent and

9 https://youtu.be/aZkV1M6P6bQ?t=50s 10 https://youtu.be/fngFfn_MXMo?t=4m11s 11 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFL9yL1hHPE 12 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nb8fc8j2k0 41 underrepresented developers, organizations, and groups” (ibid.). It could be argued that Let’s Play has offered some counterweight to large gaming companies as more often, Let’s Players choose to play indie-developed games due to copyright issues. Due to the high number of views Let’s Plays generate, a lot of indie-developed titles have benefited from increased exposure and positive reviews including FNAF. Furthermore, the strong social and emotional connection formed in Let’s Play communities benefits (indie-developed) games such as FNAF. Hamilton et al. argues that participation increases the emotional connection within a group (1318). I would argue that this emotional connection is not only shared between the members, but rather interconnects the audience, the Let’s Player and the videogame played. To take Markiplier’s channel as an example, his Let’s Play of the first FNAF game alone has generated more than 100 million views in total. The FNAF videos have become so popular that he has taken up the title “the king of Five Nights at Freddy’s” as part of his branding. For a Let’s Play channel - which had nearly 3 million subscribers when his first FNAF video was uploaded – to decide to play FNAF and has continued to do so with every new game, has provided the game with incredible exposure and recognition. Simultaneously the role of the audience should not be underestimated. The influence of the audience in Let’s Play communities shows as FNAF was initially suggested to play by Markiplier’s audience13. Furthermore, as Let’s Plays’ main objective is to entertain, videogames are only continued to be played as long as the audience shows interest in them. Let’s Players, viewers and the game industry thus form a robust media assemblage whose components are mutually supportive. In Markiplier’s case, the large amount of views and engagement demonstrates FNAF’s high demand. Furthermore, the number of subscribers surged in the days after the FNAF Let’s Plays were uploaded, showing the popularity of the series and success of his playthroughs. Lastly, Markiplier’s community proves to be highly, emotionally invested which is recognized by the channel. Besides suggesting the game, the audience has Fig. 15 After Markiplier’s comment “How long until someone makes a remix of Exotic Butters?” was continued to participate through commenting on picked up by his fans. Remixes were soon uploaded gameplay (Fig. 14) as well as to engage with to YouTube.

13 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOztnsBPrAA 42

Markiplier’s humor, for example by taking up on his comment: “how long until someone makes a remix of exotic butters?” (Fig. 15). Besides being played by large Let’s Play channels, the game has been picked up by many young YouTube channels such as Dawko, Razzbowski and 8BitGaming. In these cases, FNAF was amongst one of the first games featured on the channel or steered the channel into a different direction. Razzbowski for example started out with Pokémon Let’s Plays but has since changed its branding to horror titles, especially FNAF. As the channels were relatively young when FNAF came out, they greatly benefited from FNAF’s popularity as many people searched for FNAF videos on YouTube. Simultaneously, FNAF has benefited from the high levels of recognition on these channels. Though identifying as Let’s Play channels, these channels don’t restrict themselves to playthroughs. Compared to Markiplier, these channels are highly engaged with FNAF as besides playthroughs, they also upload FNAF-related material in between releases e.g. lore theories, ‘top tens’ or reactions to trailers or teasers. While FNAF benefits from large channels due to their high following and engagement of the audience, smaller channels have contributed to FNAF’s success by consistently uploading a variety of content, keeping the franchise in the loop. The next chapter continues to discuss different forms of content, including lore theories, as a contribution to FNAF’s success. By looking at the history and characteristics of Let’s Plays, this chapter has argued how “new technologies have allowed for even these solo game experiences to take on a new sort of social character” (Walker 437). Let’s Plays have provided new ways for players to engage with videogames: “While before they could only play, now they can entertain, teach, critique, and share” (ibid.). Within Let’s Play communities, a strong connection is formed between the game, the Let’s Player and the audience. The popularity of Let’s Plays as well as the high engagement and emotional connection that exists within these communities, have been beneficial to franchises such as FNAF as it increases exposure and keeps people talking about the franchise for a long(er) period of time. The next chapter continues to discuss how people have engaged with the franchise by revealing different ways in which fans have added meaning to the videogame series.

4. FNAF and Fan Engagement Previously, I have used Jenkins’ concept of transmedia storytelling to discuss how FNAF builds a complex story. In his definition, Jenkins recognizes the role of the consumer, as transmedia storytelling requires and motivates active consumption and engagement (Convergence Culture 96). Whereas chapter 2 focused on how the story unfolds across different platforms, this chapter aims to understand the meanings created by fan consumption. An active audience is recognized by Axel Bruns, who uses the concept produsage to explain the role of consumers in “user-led content creation”. The term highlights that “within the communities which engage in the collaborative creation and extension of information (…) the distinctions between producers and users of content have faded into comparative insignificance” (2). Produsers play an active role in the creation of the experience they simultaneously consume (Jenkins, Green & Ford 184). Rather than a finished product, the experience is an unfinished process to which audience members add by liking, sharing, promoting and creating new points of entry (184, 185). The act of produsage is very common on YouTube: “YouTube is one space where we can all watch audiences do the work of being an audience member: the labor of making meaning, of connecting media with their lived realities and their personal and interpersonal identities” (187). Furthermore, due to YouTube’s recommended section and use of tags, ‘prodused’ content is easily found and shared. On YouTube, fans have engaged with the FNAF franchise in two different ways: theorizing about the game’s lore and creating fan-made content such as games, music or films. Starting with the former, I discuss how these forms of fan engagement “contribute to the cultural value (sentimental, symbolic) of media products [FNAF] by passing along content and making material valuable within their social networks” (123; added brackets).

4.1 The Theorist Community Jenkins quotes Umberto Eco to indicate what factors contribute to a media object to transform into a cult artifact. These arguments can also be applied to the FNAF franchise. First, the object must feature a “completely furnished world so that its fans can quote characters and episodes as if they were aspects of the private sectarian world” (Convergence Culture 97). This argument is somewhat related to the components of a transmedia world - mythos, topos and ethos – as discussed by Klastrup and Tosca. Producing a layered text includes building a fictional world that works by its own rules, which in turn, the consumer is able to explore: “Second, the work must be encyclopedic, containing a rich array of information that can be drilled, practiced, and mastered by devoted consumers” (ibid.). According to Janet Murray,

44 storytelling is not so much about a suspension of disbelief, but rather an active creation of belief (in Perron Silent Hill 18). Immersion is stimulated through agency (Murray 2012):

To my mind, active creation of belief is a function of immersion reinforced by agency. Immersion is derived from consistency and depth and from the establishment of clear boundaries. A fantasy novel series or a detailed television storyworld encourages us to believe in it by being extremely detailed and consistent. When fans are able to explore the world, to ask questions of it, and discover new and consistent facts about it, then their belief increases as a result of their actions and they experience the active creation of belief.

Chapter 2 discussed the way in which FNAF builds such a complex storyworld which allows fans to actively interact with the narrative e.g. by playing the different games in alternative ways as well as discover new meanings outside of the main games. FNAF’s storytelling universe is “substantially larger than the [games] itself, offering almost infinite material for fan discussions and debates – and thus ensuring ‘spreadable’ content across fan networks” (Jenkins, Green & Ford 132). Indeed, fans have picked up on the different layers of meaning and started actively debating online about pieces of lore. In complex narratives, pleasure can be found within mastery over knowledge. The Internet established a place for fans to interact with each other, forming communities: “The technology of the net allows what might previously have been private meditations to become the basis for social interaction” (Jenkins Fans, Bloggers and Gamers 124). Although forums and fan websites have also provided a place for these theories and fan communities, I wish to focus on the role of YouTube. Similar to Let’s Plays, the platform did not only provide a place for content and communities to exist, it also made them ‘blow up’ or become extremely popular. With over 8 million subscribers, The Game Theorists is a good example of a popular YouTube channel dedicated to videogame analysis. While originally starting out with applying scientific theories to relate real-life conditions to videogames, the channel’s theories now include answers to culturally or historically related questions concerning games as well as theories seeking to explain a specific game’s lore. The channel has made a name for itself for its theories on FNAF, which are some of the most viewed videos on the channel. The channel approaches the game from different angles, from fully lore-based videos (creating a timeline for the games14), to a combination of lore and cultural background (connecting a real-

14 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1kw1RmzrPc 45 life shooting incident to FNAF’s narrative and in effect, argue towards the protagonist possibly being the killer15) to asking scientific questions such as “Can the bite of an animatronic kill someone?”16 or “What are the consequences of losing your frontal lobe?”17. Noteworthy is the idea of community within ‘theorist’ fan cultures: “The depth and breadth of [The Matrix] universe made it impossible for any one consumer to ‘get it’ but the emergence of knowledge cultures made it possible for the community as a whole to dig deeper into this bottomless text” (Convergence Culture 127, added brackets). The Game Theorists take a couple of interesting measures to reach out to both other YouTubers and its own community to tackle the FNAF universe. The connected side-channel GT Live for example, does not only include Let’s Plays of FNAF but also features two livestreams from October18 and December19 2015 respectively in which The Game Theorists collaborated with other YouTubers to discuss FNAF’s lore with the audience. Three observations are striking from these livestreams: the participation of the audience, the collaboration with other YouTubers and the interference of the game’s developer. These observations point towards a strong connection within the community between the fans, YouTube channels and the game developer. To start with the first, participation strengthens the sense of community. Like the relationship between Let’s Play channels and their audiences, theory channels dependent on the audience to be interested. In the previous paragraph I have discussed several ways in which subscribers participated on Markiplier’s channel e.g. suggesting games to play, give hints concerning the gameplay or engaging with the channel’s humor. Subscribers of theorists’ channels participate in a similar way, for example by making suggestions on uploaded theories or suggest new theories in the comment section. The audience feels a sense of recognition when the channel follows up on those, either through commenting or including it in a video. While a sense of community is constructed in regular videos through simulated dialogue, livestreams makes real-time dialogue possible in which the audience’s participation is recognized directly. Audience participation on GT Live is unique, as the chat function and Twitter allows the audience to communicate directly with the channel, making them feel valued and an inherent part of the theorizing process. Secondly, YouTube channels reaching out to others, extends the community and

15 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th_LYe97ZVc 16 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=leTOy75OD5w 17 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FMJ2jZtW7cw 18 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJiYCeODhXc 19 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h1rX6Ay-vZo 46 increases the amount of opinions. Within the established community, the YouTubers represent the role of experts. Each participating YouTuber on the livestream has proven their worth through the theories uploaded on their individual channels. Jenkins argues: “Within the informational economy of the net, knowledge equals prestige, reputation, power. Knowledge gains currency through its circulation on the net, and so there is a compulsion to be the first to circulate new information and to be among the first to possess it” (Fans, Bloggers and Gamers 125). Within these online communities, hierarchy is based on the principle of ‘equipotentiality’ which means that it’s the “immediate practice of cooperation which determines the expertise and level of participation” (Bruns 19). While the participants are not equal in their skills and abilities, “they have an equal ability to make a worthy contribution (…)” (25). The livestream functions as a space where the different experts come together and share their thoughts. The audience are not merely spectators, but rather placed in the position of the subordinate student. Their pleasure derives from participation, by asking questions or addressing counter-arguments, in order to increase their knowledge and social status. Thirdly, within the theorist community, the game developer takes on the role of ‘the trickster’. Cawthon can be seen as an extension of the game’s mystery through his interaction with FNAF fans. A first example is him being known for being unreliable concerning the exact dates of releases, often releasing games before the set date (Fig. 16) or tricking his fans into believing production has been delayed. A week before the release of FNAF SL for example, Cawthon released a statement saying that the game had been postponed due to him feeling uncomfortable about the mature content. A more ‘kid-friendly’ version would be released later in the year while the current, mature version would be released in episodes. However, when players downloaded the first episode, they would find Cawthon’s game Sit ‘N Survive instead. In the end, FNAF SL was released on the previously announced release date. Besides tricking his audience, Cawthon is also known for being ambiguous both in- and outside of the games. Hints are hidden internally within the game’s files and externally on the franchise’s website. Through hacking20 into the game files of FNAF SL, Fig. 16 Comments found on Razzbowski’s reading of fans have for example unlocked blueprints of the The Silver Eyes and 8BitGaming’s reaction video to the FNAF Sister Location trailer animatronic designs, which might be some of the

20 Hacking refers to (playfully) reveal and sometimes manipulate data from a digital source and is here not related to any criminal or unauthorized activities 47 features referred to in the game’s opening dialogue. In between releases, hints have been found on the website by brightening up the teaser images or looking at the source code. Currently the websites scottgames.com and fnafworld.com seem to be having a conversation, possibly foreshadowing a next FNAF release (Fig. 17). Furthermore, during the second GT Live stream, the participating YouTubers were surprised when the website scottgames.com was updated in response to what was being said on the stream (Fig. 18). These observations demonstrate that the developer is an inherent part of the mystery around FNAF. Although he seems to be sharing relevant information with the fans, his trustworthiness can be doubted which still leaves the audience, especially the theorist community, guessing. The theorists’ pleasure then derives from both mastery over the game and being able to engage Cawthon in his own game (Jenkins Fans, Bloggers and Gamers 129).

Fig. 17 Conversation between source codes (added Fig. 18 The websites scottgames.com was updated emphasis by The Game Theorists) in response to GT Live’s livestream Top: Scottgames.com / Bottom: FNAFworld.com

Besides playing the game, theorizing about its lore seems an important part of FNAF’s popularity. What has been the effect of channels dedicating themselves to theorize about the game’s lore? According to Jenkins, Green and Ford, “every new viewer that these practices draw to the program could, in theory, translate into greater economic value (exchange) for media companies and advertisers” (123). Theory channels keep adding new meanings to the FNAF story, making the franchise relevant up till today. The videos keeps the FNAF brand circulating and often praise the franchise for its complex storytelling. Such practices could potentially draw in new people who might become interested in the franchise.

Simultaneously, the game has helped a lot of small(er) YouTubers to start and grow their channels. FNAF provided the complexity which made audiences and channels reach out to each other, collectively finding pleasure in discovering new bits of lore. The livestreams, and theory channels in general, draw on the social aspect of games and the complex storytelling of FNAF to create engaging experiences. As an effect, this increased a sense of community among the fans and the theorist channels.

4.2 The Creation of Fan-Made Content Besides theorizing, fans have engaged with the franchise by creating new forms of content related to FNAF. Instead of fan art such as drawings or fiction, I focus on audio-visual material including games, films and music which have found their way onto YouTube. The high engagement of fans has led to a stronger relationship between the franchise and its audience. At the same time, participation ensures that FNAF stays popular in between the time of releases. To start with the largest category, many videogames have been made reflecting either FNAF’s universe or gameplay. Game engines, such as Unity or Unreal Engine 4, and tools like RPG Maker or Game Maker, made it easy and affordable for amateurs and (semi-) professionals to design and build games. The FNAF fan games can be divided in the following categories. First, there are games which exist in the same universe, extending the original FNAF storyline. Games such as Five Nights at Candy’s (Emil Macko) and Those Nights at Rachel’s (Nikson) refer to the original FNAF as the games take place in competing restaurants who benefit from Freddy Fazbear’s closure. While the point-and-click survival gameplay of both games is very similar to FNAF’s, Those Nights at Rachel’s add extra gameplay elements such as leaning, hiding under the desk and running to the backroom to close the curtains. A related category are games which build on the FNAF universe but move away from the original gameplay. Currently lacking a storyline, the technical demo of Joy of Creation: Reborn (Nikson) replaces the point-and-click gameplay with a free-roaming mode in which the player navigates through a house. A third category are crossovers, which replicate FNAF’s gameplay but replaces the original characters with characters from other popular media franchises. Examples are Five Nights at Treasure Island (Disney inspired), Five Nights at Wario’s (Nintendo inspired) or Five Nights at the Chumbucket (Nickelodeon inspired). A more original take on the crossover is One Night at Flumpty’s (Jonochrome) which is inspired by the character of Humpty Dumpty. Instead of being an almost exact copy of FNAF, this game features a distinct graphical style and new original characters. Lastly,

49 there are games which use FNAF’s characters and location but place them within a different genre. The spin-off Five Nights at Fuckboy’s (SableSugar) uses FNAF elements to create a RPG experience including mature content and crude humor. Another example is the dating sim Five Nights of Love (Chibixi). The game refers to FNAF through its characters, setting and ‘scary’ endings but features completely different gameplay, in which players have to earn money and build relationships with the animatronics. Thus, in addition to the consumption of the original games, fans have actively (re)produced content related to FNAF. Fan games referring to FNAF’s storyline have expanded the FNAF universe by adding new meanings and stories to the original games, providing new perspectives or ways to look at the franchise. Fan games reworking FNAF into different genres have expanded the FNAF universe (to fans) outside of horror games. Moreover, fan games replicating the same gameplay mechanics or themes, contribute to the idea of FNAF as a new genre. Since the popularity of FNAF, more indie-developed games started following a similar style e.g. Tattletail (Waygetter Electronics). TattleTail does not share the strong resemblance to FNAF as fan games do, but the game clearly draws inspiration from FNAF in the theme of animatronics and camera surveillance, the time span of five nights and the use of jumpscares. Lastly, like FNAF, these fan games were suggested to and picked up by Let’s Play channels. This made many fan games popular in their own right and in turn, kept drawing attention to FNAF. Besides videogames, fans have re-interpreted FNAF in fan-made films. Most of these films stay close to the original story of either FNAF 121 or FNAF 422. Others have re- imagined the FNAF story, for example the version made by Iron Horse Cinema that takes place at a storage facility23. While these entries are all live-action films, there are also fully animated versions such as the films made by Secret4Studio. Another form of content is music. YouTube channels such as JT Machinima, MandoPony, The Living Tombstone and NateWantsToBattle create original songs, covers and lyrical interpretations of films, cartoons and videogames. While the raps by JT Machinima stay very close to the games, lyrics by MandoPony are often written from the perspectives of specific characters. Songs by The Living Tombstone move even further away by giving a different interpretation of the story, for example the song based on FNAF 2 which is written from the perspective of the mother of

21 Bubblegummonsters: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pavaxojLKPg Jayk Pound: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hyyh9EhWFk 22 Iron Horse Cinema: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Oy2S-9yino SilverBladeProductions: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwC-nNasZiU 23 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VreqJTBprEE 50 one of the five missing children. The accompanied clip is an interpretation of what happened to the children based on FNAF’s death minigames24. Similar to the fan games, these films and songs have re-used FNAF content and made something completely new out of it, some of them even providing new interpretations of the story. The sense of community is also clearly reflected in the musical content. The channel NateWantsToBattle often collaborates with other YouTubers associated with FNAF, such as Let’s Player Jacksepticeye or MatPat (from The Game Theorists). From the observations made in this chapter and the previous chapter, it becomes clear that several YouTube channels featuring FNAF related content are now closely associated with the franchise including Markiplier (for his Let’s Plays), The Game Theorists (for their theories) and some of the before mentioned song channels. Drawing on the popularity of both the game and some of these YouTube channels, the channel Random Encounters has created a musical sketch of FNAF featuring Markiplier, MatPat and NateWantsToBattle. While the musical is also a re- interpretation of the FNAF story, it simultaneously demonstrates a strong sense of collaboration within the community, which does not only include YouTube channels and their audiences but also YouTube channels among each other. To conclude, while fans have contributed to the creation of fan content, YouTube provided a platform for this content to circulate. The observations from chapters 3 and 4 demonstrate that YouTube is a space for Let’s Play, theories and fan content to co-exist as well as cross-over. Compared to fan forums or websites, YouTube has constructed a more open and accessible platform that provides space to many different forms of amateur, semi- professional and professional content. The high engagement that YouTube channels motivate, has led to a strong emotional connection between the audience, the channel and the content. This has led to the creation and sharing of content by fans. For FNAF specifically, the high engagement of its audience on YouTube has helped the franchise to ‘blow up’. The (fan-)produced content has added new meanings, keeping the franchise relevant for a long period of time. The close connection to the FNAF franchise in fan content has kept the brand circulating across YouTube. Moreover, as the franchise became more popular, (fan) content also kept increasing, creating a sustainable media assemblage of mutually supportive components. Of course, every franchise has its limits: “There has to be a breaking point beyond which franchises cannot be stretched, subplots can’t be added, secondary characters can’t be identified, and references can’t be fully realized” (Jenkins

24 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gk-aCL6eyGc 51

Convergence Culture 127). At some point, the narrative either gets too complicated or fans will lose interest. However, at that point, new games inspired by FNAF have probably carried on its legacy by then.

Conclusion In this research paper, I analyzed the horror game Five Nights at Freddy’s and its relationship to YouTube in order to understand what elements have contributed for the platform to pick up on FNAF and in turn, helped the videogame to become a popular transmedia phenomenon. To start, FNAF creates a horror experience that both draws on and moves away from characteristics of the horror genre. As several authors have pointed out, both film and videogames depend on the audience feeling a degree of safety to turn horror into a pleasurable experience. In the horror genre, fear and pleasure are interrelated. In FNAF, the use of a first- person perspective and a heavy focus on the ‘looking’ mechanic creates an intense experience that addresses the single player. Furthermore, feelings of fear and suspense are created through diegetic elements, by defamiliarizing the player with the setting and characters, and interactive gameplay elements. The latter allows videogames to create a more personal and immersive experience compared to film. Perron describes survival horror in videogames as an ‘extended body genre’ as players are urged to feel and interact through the character on- screen (Horror Video Games 126). As FNAF’s gameplay offers very limited agency, the feeling of invulnerability is created. The game makes it difficult for players to stay in control due to the many tasks and limited resources given. In short, FNAF as a horror experience is mainly based on inducing fear by increasing tension, creating a panic reaction, as players try to avoid the inevitable jumpscare. Despite its simple design and gameplay, FNAF offers a complex storyline. In my analysis, I identified three techniques for storytelling that I refer to as layered, serial and transmedia storytelling. Layered storytelling refers to the depth created in each individual story through different layers of narration. Serial storytelling includes the overall, linear storyline being split up and spread out over multiple games. Both of these techniques motivate players to continue playing other games in franchise as well as replay the older titles. Transmedia storytelling extends the universe beyond merely the games. FNAF’s transmedia extensions offer new stories to be consumed within a different medium while simultaneously adding to the main games’ mythos. Rather than stand-alone tactics, the techniques often overlap and work together in order to constitute a complex narrative that motivates players to explore the game beyond the gameplay. Indeed, the game has motivated different types of fan participation. Due to its easy accessibility, a lot of fan culture can be found on YouTube from which Let’s Plays are amongst the most popular types of content. Let’s Plays offer a unique form of consumption as the viewer does not only watch the playthrough but also the footage of the gamer. In other

53 words, the consumption of the medium (videogame) becomes mediated through YouTube which in turn is consumed by the viewer. Through the double screen, comedic effects can be created which is a key characteristic of Let’s Plays. The humor in videogames can be defined as slapstick humor. Videogames can be experienced as funny either when players interact with virtual characters or objects in the game or when joking “turns into an attack on control” (Hudson 113). In case of the latter, horror videogames prove to be a suitable genre as players are bound to fail. In FNAF specifically, the player is always close to losing control due to the player’s vulnerability. The moment of failure, marked by a kneejerk reaction as a response to the jumpscare, is captured on-screen. Besides comedy, Let’s Plays bring a more social character to videogames. While videogames are usually associated with the private sphere, Let’s Plays are characterized by a sense of community established between the channel and the audience based on a similar interest in content. Furthermore, both Jenkins and Murray argue that complex (transmedia) universes motivate fan participation. In addition to fans engaging with the gameplay in Let’s Plays, fans have engaged with FNAF’s complex story in the form of theory channels. Within these ‘theorist communities’, I identified a strong connection between the audience, the channel(s) and the game developer. Similar to Let’s Plays, audience participation is a key part of these channels. While the audience feels like a valued part of the community, a form of hierarchy based on equipotentiality can be identified in the relationship between the channel and the audience. While the channel takes on the role of the ‘expert’, the viewer is placed in the position of the student who is able to participate and ask questions in order to learn more about the game’s lore and increase their own social status. In both roles, pleasure is defined as ‘mastery over knowledge’. Moreover, theory channels point out that the role of the game developer should not be underestimated. Cawthon frequently reaches out to fans and YouTube channels, either directly or indirectly through the website or game files. Taking the role of ‘the trickster’, the developer adds mystery to the franchise as well as acts as an active part of the community. Also, besides merely consuming the game, fans have produced content related to the game – its mythos, gameplay mechanics or characters – and shared it on YouTube. Especially fan games became extremely popular in its own right and were picked up by Let’s Play channels. By producing content, fans have extended the game’s mythos with their own interpretations. Furthermore, by replicating its mechanics, fans have expanded on the genre. In different ways, these fan practices have extended the FNAF universe and kept it relevant over the course of time, offering fans to engage with the franchise in different ways.

How has the combination of these elements led to FNAF becoming a successful transmedia phenomenon? First of all, FNAF’s simple gameplay and complex storytelling balance each other out and leave something for every player. Players do not need the complex story to experience horror in the game. The horror experience is original, in that it’s short but effective. At the same time, for gamers who are into puzzle narratives, interest in the game may extend for a longer period of time as the franchise offers many ways to engage with the narrative. Storytelling works as a form of gratification, as new bits of lore are gradually revealed. This motivates the payer to beat all nights, even when the gameplay is unforgiving: one jumpscare throws you back to the start of the night. Also, storytelling offers replay value as the lore is carefully hidden and can only be discovered fully by replaying the game(s) multiple times. While the game offers an original balance between gameplay and story that has the power to appeal to different kind of players, its characteristics in combination with YouTube increased the game’s popularity by bringing it outside of the private sphere. Its simple way of conveying horror worked well for Let’s Plays. Its complex storytelling motivated fans to come up with theories about the game’s lore and share it online. Furthermore, these original mechanics for gameplay and complex mythos have motivated fans to come up with content that either reflected the gameplay mechanics and/or attempted to expand the mythos. In different ways, these fan practices have called attention to the game online: by playing/reviewing, by talking about its lore or by replicating its mechanics. In addition to bringing the game outside of the private sphere, FNAF has benefited from the strong sense of community that is formed between the content, YouTube channels and their audiences (and in a way, the game developer). YouTube channels rely on both an active audience that demands and interacts with - and YouTube creators that offer - a specific type of content. As YouTube channels focus on creating an entertaining experience, strong bonds with the audience are formed through mutual interaction and recognition. This personal bond benefits FNAF in two ways. The game gets demanded by the audience which many channels have followed up on. Simultaneously, when creators decide to feature the game on their channel, the game reaches a large following and usually motivates engagement as viewers feel like a valued part of the channel. Moreover, there is a sense of reliability or trustworthiness on opinions of others within the community. When Let’s Players, theorist channels or other fans within the community let themselves out positively about the game, it may motivate others to play themselves. Fan participation may thus indirectly lead to greater economic value for media companies. While FNAF has benefited from the popularity of

YouTube, the effect is mutual. As FNAF’s popularity increases, more channels started featuring FNAF content. In turn, these channels have gained a large following in a short period of time. In short, FNAF’s success cannot be explained using one linear argument. Rather, its success can be defined as a sustainable media assemblage of mutually supportive components. The analysis points out that FNAF is made up by qualities that motivate fan engagement. Also, the characteristics of the platform YouTube has attracted a lot of fan culture. Being picked up by fans on YouTube has accelerated FNAF’s success as YouTube channels are able to reach a large audience of loyal subscribers. Media objects may thus benefit greatly from social media networks, such as YouTube, as these channels circulate content and easily reach the desired target audience (for free). This is not to underestimate the object itself, as the videogame will have to appeal to an audience for a channel to pick up on it. By having qualities that kept fans interested over time, FNAF has been able to benefit from YouTube long term. This paper does not measure FNAF’s success by the popularity of the first game, but rather by the ability of the franchise to appeal to an audience as a whole. The franchise has been able to stay relevant to its audience since the first release and has since expanded beyond merely (horror) videogames to become a consistent transmedia phenomenon. While a huge and engaged following is not new to (trans)media franchises, YouTube as both a sharing platform and social medium has added new ways for developers to spread and promote media content and has offered new ways for fans to engage. In a networked society, media products may thus benefit from YouTube’s affordances as they allow for personal relationships to be formed between all parties involved.

The “Five Nights at Freddy’s” Franchise (2014 – 2017) Main titles Five Nights at Freddy’s. Scott Cawthon. 2014. Five Nights at Freddy’s 2. Scott Cawthon. 2014. Five Nights at Freddy’s 3. Scott Cawthon. 2015. Five Nights at Freddy’s 4. Scott Cawthon. 2015. Five Nights at Freddy’s: Sister Location. Scott Cawthon. 2016.

Spin-off titles FNAF World. Scott Cawthon. 2016.

Novels Five Nights at Freddy’s: The Silver Eyes. Scott Cawthon and Kira Breed-Wrisley. New York: Kevin Anderson & Associates. 2015. Five Nights at Freddy’s: The Twisted Ones. Scott Cawthon and Kira Breed-Wrisley. New York: Kevin Anderson & Associates. To be published.

Film Rights to produce a film adaptation are sold to Warner Bros. Pictures. At the time of writing, there are negotiations to hand over the production to Blumhouse Productions.

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