Synopsis: With Michael's unknown plan to end his father thrown out of the window, the colleagues now stand face to face with a buried past...
Warnings: Post-Scoop Michael, assuming Michael is the FNAF 3 guard, ooc Michael, non-canon elements, violence, Midnight Motorist interpretation, William being William, past abuse, Michael has PTSD
Proof Read: Yes
Word Count: 2k
Masterlist: here!
The small, rectangular window was forcefully opened.
"It's like he glued the damn thing shut." Michael grumbled, the edge of his fingers turning a sickening shade of white.
The distorted, twisting sound of his mother and father talking ran through his brain like water. Uneven, sloppy footsteps catching his attention instead.
A loud thump snapped his brain back, the vintage window now open. "He better not have heard that."
Three loud bangs reverberated through the wooden door behind him. Michael didn't stick around, quickly sliding through the chipped window.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fear crippled the security office.
It moved, twitched. The electrician recoiled in disgust as organic eyes latched onto her.
"I'm gonna puke." Bounced off the walls of her mind, taking in the gorey sight in front of her.
Pieces of muscle had escaped the suit, like small roots searching for sunlight. The sharp stained bone was barely visible through the ridged holes of the suit, leathery skin now connected to the furry costume.
The animatronic killer just stared, his gaze settled sternly onto the woman. It stepped forward, the heavy movement rippling through the suit.
She took a step back.
"Why is he focused on me?! I'm not his kid!" Her racing mind kept turning, neurons sizzling with a mix of fear, confusion, and possible intrigue.
A family of living-dead? How did that happen? And seriously, why was she so calm about this?! maybe calm wasn't the right word..
It stepped forward, again.
She didn't dare move back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Open this door." A chilling, velvety smooth voice pierced through the door frame.
"This is my house; I told you not to lock this door." The doorknob moved erratically, on the verge of breaking.
The voice blustered harshly, turning back towards the empty stairwell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His past was throwing itself back up after years of suppression. The thick, putrid mucus coating his senses.
"How the blazes are we supposed to get out of this?" Michael didn't know if his father retained any sort of strength in this state, he assumed not.
Michael spared a glance to his right, the back of the electrician greeting his dead eyes. She seemed oddly calm.
The old Spring Bonnie suit started convulsing, what was left of his fried voice box making a terrifying screech.
The woman took this chance of possible distraction, turning on her heels and grabbing her coworker by the collar, dragging his frozen form out of the office.
"I'mgonnagetuskilledI'mgonnagetuskilledI'mgonnagetus-" She didn't think this through, she didn't have time to.
Michael was dead weight behind her, torso and limbs scrapping against the floor.
"Think.. think.. where can we hide?" The woman didn't want to risk trying to escape through the exit door. If his father retained any of his intelligence, that would certainly be his first stop.
thump thump thump
"Are you kidding me?!" She picked up the pace, her heart rate spiking for the second time that night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The man who laid claim to the smooth voice stood, eyes scanning the thick tree line as if it had offended him.
"Where's that brat?" He complained, stomping around the unkempt backyard.
His calculated gaze was practiced, disturbingly so.
The man's eyes caught something, divots in the ground?
No...
"Footprints."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The guard awoke from his dazed state, feeling his body being dragged.
Michael craned his neck, expecting to see a certain electrician who had clearly made a dicey move.
He sighed internally, she had no clue how the animatronics worked, let alone when one was holding a dead body. Does she know how risky she was being?
She got them out of the office, so he couldn't complain much.
thump thump thump
Michael cursed under his breath, catching the woman's attention. She didn't stop, but spoke softly..
"Get up! I can't keep dragging you, my arm is gonna give."
Wordlessly, he placed a hand on the wall, slowing them down enough so he could awkwardly rise up from the floor.
"Here, take my hand." He whispered back, holding a torn hand out too her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael ran.
Where? He didn't care.
The brush caught on his tanned skin, freckles bleeding as the branches showed now mercy. The cold nipped at his skin, the cut and untouched parts.
"Could've at least grabbed a jacket, idiot." He mentally berated, his withered converse doing little to shield his feet from the harsh impact of pebbles, stones, and fallen branches.
He had to get away, even if it was just for one night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The pair had ducked into the women's bathroom, sitting face to face in the stall farthest from the entrance.
It was cramped to say the very least, their legs tightly packed against themselves.
"I don't hear him." The woman spoke softly, trying to avoid any harsh syllables.
Michael simply nodded, sparing her a glance.
The electrician shuffled, trying to stretch her already stiff legs. Michael obliged, shifting towards the back wall of the stall.
THUD
Her breath hitched, hands clentched where they sat on the floor. The possessed robot had knocked something over in the hallway, and he wasn't far.
Michael kept his lifeless eyes trained on the dimly lit floor, waiting for something. A shadow? A rabbit foot? A phantom?
The man sighed noiselessly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Shi-!" The boy's cuss was cut short, falling face first into a pile of dried leaves.
His foot screamed in pain, his ankle refusing to move.
"Seriously?" He seethed, jaw clenched and eyes squinted. Michael cranned his neck, trying to get a better looking at his lower leg.
The muscle had swelled, leaving his ankle red and painful. He exhaled gruffly, flopping his head back onto the ground.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She didn't dare move, let alone breathe. Her eye's were locked onto the nightguard's face, waiting for some sort of signal or notion to do... something.
"I mean, he obviously understands what's going on more than I do." Her thoughts began. "You aren't losing it, you aren't losing it. This is totally fine! Just you and your zombie coworker hiding from his furry-zombie dad. No big deal!"
A therapy session and a head scan were in her future.
The electrician breathed as quietly as possible, an insignificant amount of air escaping her lips. "Wait, Kris!" Her eyes popped wide, moving her gaze from Michael to the wall.
How could she have forgotten about her brother? It had been.. wait.. how long had it been? A quick glance down at her watch showed 1:00 AM.
"You've got to be kidding me!" The woman spoke, forgetting the need to stay quiet. Michael glared at her wordlessly for a moment, turning his head back to the door not even a second later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael dragged his limp leg behind him, a whimper escaping him at ever light twist and tug.
Where was he going? Back home.
Truthfully, he had nowhere else to go. His friends lived miles away, no family lived in the area. Michael was completely dependent on his family, isolated deep in the woods by a highway.
After what seemed like hours of dragging his leg, one slow step at a time, there it was.
The horror house he called home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
thump thump thump
He was coming for the bathroom.
"Mike.." The woman whispered, hands clutched together. He shushed her soundlessly, shifting as far from the door as he could.
The woman tapped his knee, gaining his attention.
"Move over here." She began, hating how shaky her words were. "He'll see you."
Michael nodded in agreement, squeezing between his coworker and the unsavory toilet bowl.
thump thump THUMP
The woman peeled her hands apart, reaching for the man's beside here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Care to explain, son?"
Michael's hand still clutched the door handle, his eyes gawked at the chipped door.
His father moved closer. "Well?" Williams voice was strained, his deranged way of speech echoing in the narrow hallways.
Silent, practiced footsteps walked towards the teenaged boy, until the man stood directly behind him.
William scanned his son's frame, locking his eyes onto the misshapen ankle. Michael didn't dare move, speak, or even breathe. The wild animal behind him looking down on him like prey.
"Pathetic." His father huffed, slowly moving towards the basement door.
"No loud music. No disturbing me while I work. Are we clear?" Michael nodded, moving towards the staircase once the basement door locked shut.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ugly, matted, rabbit feet came into view beneath the bathroom stall.
The electrician squeezed Michael's hand tighter, eyes widened, mind focused on controlling her ragged breathing.
The purple man's eyes narrowed, looking above the stall where half an ear greeted him. The animatronic moved sluggishly, moving closer to the small line of stalls.
creeaak
The stall next to them opened slow, painfully slow, maybe even consciously slow.
It was as if the thing already knew they were there, and was getting a sick enjoyment out of dragging out the inevitable.
The sound of unwound springlocks filled the stale air, as the creature began leaning down into the enclosed space. "He's going to see us." Michael concluded, gripping the woman's hand back.
The sound of broken servos and rusted screws grew louder, the muddled glow from the animatronic eyes shining past their figures.
The woman's eyelids were shut, eyes forced back into her skull. Michael stared ahead, focusing on the deep scratches etched into thin wall in front of him, the chipped toilet seat to his right, the trash scattered around the small area.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thick, infused metal tore at his decomposed flesh. Bending motions were never meant for a suit of such caliber.
Human eyes moved along with the manufactured set.
"There you are." A guttural, course voice forced itself out of the rabbit suit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"There you are."
If they weren't frozen before, they sure were now. She fluttered her eyes towards Michael, her gaze clearly asking, "what are we gonna do?!"
The man wasn't present, silver eyes diluted as they burned holes into the bathroom floor.
Silent, practiced footsteps walked towards the teenaged boy, until the man stood directly behind him.
"Now?" He sighed vocally, forcing his brain out of it's crevice full of childhood memories.
BANG
The divider behind them shook vigorously, the bolts tethering it to the floor already loose. "C'mon Mike!" The electrician half shouted, ready to drag the zombie across the pizzaria if she had to.
BANG, then it spoke.
"I said to stay quiet, didn't I Michael?"
His brain vacated his body, burrowing back into that same painful wrinkle.
"MICHAEL!" The woman shrieked, the stall wall behind them crashing ontop of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The death trap behind them stared at their crushed bodies, baring his entire weight onto the fallen divider.
"My back.." She groaned, already picturing the deep bruises that would form in a few days.... if she even lived to see the deep, rich purple cover her skin.
She could only see Michael's patchy brown hair, as his neck had snapped in the opposite direction of where he had been looking at the floor. The woman averted her gaze from the sight, already feeling woozy.
"You thought you could escape?" The voice chilled the air around them, a rabbit foot pressing down harder on the divider.
"How is it still... in one piece?" She seethed, the pain ceasing her internal dialogue function.
"It seems Fazbear...- spent money on something of value." Michael grunted, forcing his neck back around.
The electrician fought the urge to throw up for the.... she had stopped counting the amount of times she felt like throwing up her overly digested food that night.
It seemed as if the animatronic, Michael's father, didn't directly respond to what they were saying.
The remnants of the man seemed to be what was left of his pride, blood-lust, and need for control, not his critical thinking. So, she risked it.
"Is there anyway out of this?" She spoked bluntly, lips trembling as she spoke. "I can't die here." Tears brimmed along her waterline.
Death was reserved for a room filled with loved ones, or just her brother. The smell of day old roses, antiseptic, and oil. Death wasn't supposed to be supernatural.
Michael stared at her for a moment, probably weighing the odds of how much time they had to even think of a half-decent plan.
...
All corners, all sides, all points lead to the same conclusion.
Another person would die due to his negligence, his lack of control. There was nothing Michael could do but wait...
...wait for another's head to be crushed by his hands.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Annnd there is going to be a fifth chapter! I'm thinking of five chapters + an epilouge.
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! Pretty sure it is the shortest one in the series so far, but it's more of a buildup to the sixth!
izzy806
titsay
theartofmadeline
germansingergirl
