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Five Nights at Sahurs
Survive five haunted shifts as a caffeine-fueled night guard, juggling cameras, doors, power and stalking animatronics in Five Nights at Sahurs on Kiz10.
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Five Nights at Sahurs
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SCP Raid onlinePlay : Five Nights at Sahurs đšď¸ Game on Kiz10
Rating:
9.00 (151 votes)
Released:
22 Jan 2026
Last Updated:
22 Jan 2026
Technology:
HTML5
Platform:
Browser (desktop, mobile, tablet)
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Five Nights at Sahurs doesnât pretend this is a normal night shift. The door clicks shut, the clock starts its slow crawl toward dawn, and youâre locked in with humming machines, dead monitors, and the loud realization that you are absolutely underpaid for this. Somewhere in the dark, animatronics shuffle just out of sight, waiting for you to slip, blink, or run out of power. Youâre not a hero; youâre a night watchman with five nights to survive.
Dark office, thinner nerves đŚđ°
Your âworkspaceâ is a cramped booth that feels more like a coffin with a swivel chair. On the desk: a flickering monitor wired to surveillance cameras, a couple of switches for the lights, heavy doors that sound like bank vaults, and a power meter that becomes your lifeline. Every actionâchecking a camera, hitting a light, slamming a doorâdrains that shared battery. Youâre not just watching the building; youâre watching the percentage drop and trying not to panic.
Your âworkspaceâ is a cramped booth that feels more like a coffin with a swivel chair. On the desk: a flickering monitor wired to surveillance cameras, a couple of switches for the lights, heavy doors that sound like bank vaults, and a power meter that becomes your lifeline. Every actionâchecking a camera, hitting a light, slamming a doorâdrains that shared battery. Youâre not just watching the building; youâre watching the percentage drop and trying not to panic.
The quiet is never really quiet. Fans hum, wires buzz, something metallic taps far away like a nervous habit. You flip through cameras trying to keep track of the animatronics, but the feeds are grainy, glitchy, a second behind reality. One frame shows an empty corridor. The next, a figure is standing there, just close enough that you canât pretend you imagined it. You donât have weapons. You have information, doors and a shrinking pool of electricity, and youâre supposed to make that last until 6 a.m.
Cameras, doors and the cost of every click đď¸âĄ
Five Nights at Sahurs is a horror game built on resource management. Cameras give you vision but eat power. Lights confirm whether something is at your door or just in your head. Doors are the nuclear option, slamming shut to keep animatronics outâbut keep them closed too long and youâre guaranteeing a blackout. The instinct to lock everything is strong, but completely wrong.
Five Nights at Sahurs is a horror game built on resource management. Cameras give you vision but eat power. Lights confirm whether something is at your door or just in your head. Doors are the nuclear option, slamming shut to keep animatronics outâbut keep them closed too long and youâre guaranteeing a blackout. The instinct to lock everything is strong, but completely wrong.
So you learn to treat fear like a budget. Quick camera sweeps instead of long stares. Short light taps instead of leaving them blazing. Doors closed for seconds, not minutes. Every time you overreact, the power meter punishes you. Did you really need to check that hallway three times in five seconds? Was locking both doors âjust in caseâ worth losing ten percent of your energy?
Sleep is your second enemy âđľ
As if the animatronics werenât enough, your own body is quietly betraying you. Long shifts drain your stamina. If you let drowsiness creep in, reactions slow, attention slips, and suddenly that camera feed you meant to check âin a secondâ has been ignored for far too long. To fight back, youâve got coffeeâyour only real co-worker in this place.
As if the animatronics werenât enough, your own body is quietly betraying you. Long shifts drain your stamina. If you let drowsiness creep in, reactions slow, attention slips, and suddenly that camera feed you meant to check âin a secondâ has been ignored for far too long. To fight back, youâve got coffeeâyour only real co-worker in this place.
A quick drink snaps you awake, sharpens your focus, lets you slam doors and flip cameras before something slips past. But too much caffeine and the world tilts. The screen jitters, sounds feel too loud and layered in confusing ways, shadows look wrong. You start second-guessing what you saw on the monitor: did that animatronic really move, or was that just your hands shaking? Choosing when to drink is its own mini-game: wait too long and you nod off; chug too soon and your senses become unreliable.
Every night, they get bolder đ¤đď¸
Night one is the onboarding shift. The animatronics move slowly, test routes, nudge your defenses. You learn their basic patterns, count how many camera hops they need to reach your door, and figure out which rooms matter and which are mostly noise. You scrape through to dawn and think, okay, Iâve got this. Thatâs cute.
Night one is the onboarding shift. The animatronics move slowly, test routes, nudge your defenses. You learn their basic patterns, count how many camera hops they need to reach your door, and figure out which rooms matter and which are mostly noise. You scrape through to dawn and think, okay, Iâve got this. Thatâs cute.
Each new night tightens the screws. Animatronics speed up, change paths, and start ignoring the comforting rules you thought you understood. One might take a shorter route than usual. Another fakes you outâappearing on a camera just long enough to make you waste power, then vanishing and reappearing somewhere you werenât watching. Corridors you liked become death funnels. Your âperfectâ routine crumbles as you juggle rising aggression, brutal timing and a battery that seems to melt faster with every shift.
By night three, checking the wrong camera for two seconds can cost you the run. By night four, skipping a single light check is basically begging for a jumpscare. By night five, itâs you versus animatronics that feel like theyâre reading your habits and punishing hesitation. The horror isnât just in the scream; itâs in the knowledge that you almost kept up.
Tiny decisions, massive consequences đ§ đŞ
The real tension in Five Nights at Sahurs lives in your small choices. Do you risk leaving a door open for a few extra seconds to save power? Do you ignore a suspicious corridor because you just checked it? Do you drink coffee now to fight the slow slide into sleep, knowing that one cup too many might turn your senses into liars?
The real tension in Five Nights at Sahurs lives in your small choices. Do you risk leaving a door open for a few extra seconds to save power? Do you ignore a suspicious corridor because you just checked it? Do you drink coffee now to fight the slow slide into sleep, knowing that one cup too many might turn your senses into liars?
You start bargaining with yourself. Iâll check that camera one more time and then stop. Iâll open the door now and trust the hallway is clear. Iâll hold off on coffee until the next hour. Sometimes the gamble pays off and you watch the clock tick into safety with one percent power left. Sometimes the lights die, the fan stops, and you sit in total darkness listening to footsteps closing in, mentally composing the worst resignation letter in history.
Survive till dawn, pretend youâre okay đ
đ
Your mission in Five Nights at Sahurs is painfully simple: survive until morning, five nights in a row. No escape tunnel, no hero squad coming to helpâjust you, a room full of failing equipment, a questionable coffee habit and a building full of things that move when they shouldnât. When the final hour flips and the shift ends, thereâs no parade, just that shaky, exhausted laugh of someone who gets to go home and try to sleep after staring at security feeds all night.
Your mission in Five Nights at Sahurs is painfully simple: survive until morning, five nights in a row. No escape tunnel, no hero squad coming to helpâjust you, a room full of failing equipment, a questionable coffee habit and a building full of things that move when they shouldnât. When the final hour flips and the shift ends, thereâs no parade, just that shaky, exhausted laugh of someone who gets to go home and try to sleep after staring at security feeds all night.
On Kiz10, the whole nightmare lives inside your browser: camera flipping, power juggling, coffee timing and animatronic stalking wrapped into tight sessions that somehow always become âone more try.â Whether you tackle a single night as a quick scare or grind all five in a row, Five Nights at Sahurs captures that specific flavor of horror: not about running and gunning, but about sitting in a tiny room while the dark breathes just outside your doors, hoping your math, your timing and your caffeine tolerance hold together long enough to see sunrise.
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