⚠️!Trigger Warning! Abuse Mention, Knife Mention, Swearing, Child Death Mention⚠️
Five Days until the Party, Day 3
William put the landline back on the dialer, sighed, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Goddamnit, just another fucking telemarketer," William had called Henry a few hours ago to come back to town immediately, but since it was the middle of the night, William had just left a voicemail. William and Micheal had spent the whole day 'searching' for Elizabeth to make sure no one suspected that he had something to do with it. Timothy was thankfully asleep for most of it, so William didn't have to deal with him, not like he would; Timothy would never tell shit. Just before William got entirely lost in thought, the phone rang; it was Henry. William picked up the phone and muttered a quick, "Hello." "William! I just got your message! We're coming back to town to help search, don't give up hope!" And, with that, Henry hung up. Classic Henry. William thought to himself, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
He put the phone back down, looked towards the corridor to his bedroom, then to Elizabeth's room, and walked over. William looked at the sign on her door, saying, "Ellie's room! Knock first!" And was decorated with glitter and smiley faces. William heard a door open and looked towards the noise source; Michael walked out of his room, a newly formed bruise painted his face. William made sure that Michael was looking before he slowly pulled the sign off the door. He would be lying if he said the taken aback look on Michael's face didn't make William smile. "What the fuck are you doing?" Michael asked, which earned a scowl from William. "Well, she's dead. She doesn't need it anymore. No need to keep things we don't need, now do we?" William said while crumbling up the paper; when William looked at Michael's repulsed face, it took all of his might not to laugh. "You disgust me, William Afton." Michael hissed out; William couldn't help but laugh at the younger boy. "Don't forget that this is your fault, Michael. Don't be surprised when you end up cold and alone without me to take care of you." Michael just shook his head and walked away.
Henry arrived late in the evening, Charlie trotting along closely behind him. "William! I came here as fast as I could. Leah and Sammy decided to go back home, but Charlie wanted to come with me." Henry paused and turned to Charlie. "Charlie, do you want to go play with Timmy?" Henry asked. "But I want to play with Ellie! Where's she?" Henry had a sad look on his face but quickly wiped it off. "She's just at school, sweetie." Charlie shrugged and walked over to the bedrooms. "William, have you called the police? Have you made posters? Have you-" Henry was cut off quickly by William. "The police said they couldn't do anything until twenty-four hours have passed. Michael has already made and put up posters." William replied.
"That's good; where is he?" Henry asked. "Who?" "Mike, you said he was the last one who saw her, right?" "Oh. Michael's in his room." William responded. "Okay, I'm going to talk with him. Can you get Charlie something to eat? She hasn't eaten since last night." William nodded as Henry ran off to Michael's room.
Before Henry could knock on the door in front of him, Michael mumbled a quiet, "Come in." Henry pulled the door, almost immediately stopping when he saw the bruise on the smaller male's face. Michael was standing in front of a small mirror on the opposite wall. "Oh, hey Henry. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you still be on vacation?" Michael asked, turning around to face Henry. "William called me; he said Ellie was missing; I was hoping to ask you some questions." "What is this, an interrogation?" Michael responded. "Mike, I know it must be hard on you. You were the last one to see her. But I want you to know it wasn't your fault." Henry said, trying to comfort Michael. Michael just rolled his eyes and gestured towards his bed, and said, "You want to sit down? I'll tell you." "Sure, also, where did you get that bruise-" a sharp knock on the door cut off Henry. "Henry, Leah called; she needs you," William said from the other side of the door. "Ahh, I have to go. I'll see you later, Michael."
Once Henry was out of earshot, William briskly walked into Michael's room and closed the door, "What the fuck did you tell him?" William said, rushing over to the smaller boy. "I didn't tell him anything, father," Michael responded slowly, trying to make sure that he didn't set William off. "Damn right, you didn't tell him anything. If he asks about the bruise," he took a second to gesture at the right side of his face, "tell him you fell. Or you'll never see the light of day again." William said, choking back a small laugh. Michael mumbled a little, "Okay, father." And with that, William left.
William walked up to Timothy, a small knife in his hands; Timothy hardly had time to realize what was happening before the blade was held up against his neck. He squeaked as William crouched down, the knife cutting closer to his collar with each harsh movement. "Look, Timothy. I know you saw it. And I know you're probably 'scared,'" William said, putting air quotes around the word, "but you need to know that I won't hesitate to cut you if you tell them what happened. Got it?" Timothy looked up at his father, taken aback by the older male's threat. What does he mean by that? Is he gonna hurt me? I don't want to be hurt! Timothy thought to himself before being cut off by the knife cutting into the skin of his neck. "Do you fucking get it? This could ruin me, you fucking bitch." Timothy gasped when he saw the drops of blood and looked back to his father. William sneered at him and repeated, "Got it?" As soon as Timothy nodded, William got up and walked away.
Timothy pulled his plushy close to his chest, trying to calm his nerves. It's not that he doesn't like Charlie, he loves her like a sister, but that's why Timothy was worried; he wanted to tell her, but he didn't want her to get hurt. Charlie looked at Timothy and asked, "Hey, Timmy? What's wrong? You look sad." Timothy perked up at the question and shook his head. "Nothing, I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well," He said, a small yawn followed closely after. "Oh. By the way, what happened to Ellie? Where is she?" Charlie asked. Timothy gulped, trying to make up an excuse. "She's, uh- Mom came back yesterday and, um... She's with mom, yeah, with mom." Timothy stuttered out, hoping that Charlie would buy it. "But why did-" Charlie got cut off by Henry opening the door to Timothy's room.
"Hey, Charlie. Mommy needs us back home, okay? We'll be back tomorrow." Henry said while Timothy sighed at the distraction. Charlie got up and waved at Timothy, "Goodbye, Timmy! See ya tomorrow!" Timothy silently waved back, watched them leave, then looked over to his clock, 11:29, it read. Timothy sadly sighed as his room's door opened. Michael was standing in the doorway with a yellow flashlight in his hands. "You ready?"
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