Shawn's bloodshot eyes darted back and forth between nothing but his thoughts. His body was shaking and silent whimpers echoed through the room.
The past few years had taken a toll on everyone in the studio. As Joey's condition had worsened his personality had gotten increasingly worse. The hours had lengthened, threats from him were beginning to become common, and his twisted smile seemed to stretch every day.
That wasn't even comparing to what horrors were truly happening.
With every passing day Shawn's health, mental and physical, had become strained. The studio's once smirking asshole had fallen away to a broken and wasted man. Now a days it was a rarity for him to be seen sober. Whether it was drunk from some cheap liquor or high from a back alley drug he was never in a clear mind. People had all but written him off as a lost cause. No one but Wally came down to talk anymore. Even Murray would sneak down to repair the machines at a time Shawn wouldn't be there just to keep from seeing him. They all needed to avoid him.
It was too depressing to face.
Shawn wrapped his arms around himself tightly, little beads of tears dripped onto the table. He had messed up. Nothing he'd ever done could have compared to what he had done today. The worst part was, it wasn't a matter of if he'd face any consequences, but when and what would they be.
Joey had always been on his radar. The man was simply too nice. Always smiling, always giggling, always always always. It made Shawn worry, but in the last few years he had gotten worse. He had had theories and ideas of what Joey did behind closed doors, but none of them could have stood par with what he had seen.
One mistake,
if he hadn't been so damn curious..
..if he had kept his thoughts to himself...
It had been only a glance. A little faint noise from Joey's office, he didn't even think about it.
The door was unlocked, so what was the harm of going in?
He had heard the little noises coming from the closet that connected to the office.
The door was cracked, what was the harm of looking in?
It was blood.
It was Joey.
There were blades.
There were candles.
There was Wally.
Shawn didn't even remember running, he only remembered hiding in the locked janitors closet. He remembered crying. He remembered someone opening the door and pulling him out. They called him a drunk and scoffed at him and sent him down to the infirmary.
Three months he had said nothing. Three months he had sat in horror working like a drone in the little workshop. He would have left, he wanted to leave!
But something had happened.
One day, he had woken up and there was a note next to his cot.
The note's words made him feel like he was reading the date of his death, or looking up as they nailed into his coffin.
It said only two words.
That was a little less than three months ago.
Keep Quiet.
It was the only thing Joey had told him to.
And Shawn had failed that today.
He couldn't stand it anymore. Today everything was hell, people had been going missing from work and then all of a sudden Lawrence and Jack go missing in the same night?
That wasn't even the half of it. The pipe in the recording booth had burst and nearly drowned Miss Campbell, animators were screaming no ends to each other, and Joey was not coming out of his office.
Shawn couldn't take it. The chaos beat against his head till he broke down in the middle of the hallway.
He had begun screaming and begging for people to listen, anyone to help!
Some woman came and tried to pull him away but he didn't budge. She tugged at his sleeves telling him he needed to get help till he couldn't handle the buzzing and noises and spilled everything to her.
A few people stopped and they listened.
Shawn told them everything.
All of it.
What happened to Wally, and what probably happened to Sammy and Jack, the note, the waiting, the horror of it all-
When he finally stopped talking,
When they all finally took it in.
They roared with hollering mocking laughter that made him sink to his knees.
They called him a drunk, or said he was high. They called him insane, they even told him he was a coward and just needed others to be scared for no reason with him.
Murray was there too. Just in the crowd looking at him.
All he had was an empty and disappointed stare.
Shawn covered his face feeling another choking sob come up his throat.
"They'd never believe me...." He whispered miserably to himself.
He slammed his fists on the table, furious at himself. "THEY'D NEVER BELIEVE ME"
It was silent in the room for a fleeting second before the quiet hum of laughter came from behind him.
"Lucky for me they don't believe the words of a drunk Mr. Flynn!"
Shawn's blood turned to ice as he whipped around to be met with the giggling, piercing eyes of his boss. He screamed and fell back against the desk trying to get a grasp if this was really happening or not.
Joey was standing maybe a foot away from him. His appearance in the lighting looked almost demonic. The unnaturally wide grinning smile, the way his body shook with the tiny bits of laughter he seemed to be unable to contain, the ink splatters that soiled his shirt, all of it was just horrific.
Shawn's breath was caught in his chest, fear of the man in front of him mixed with the hatred and anger for Wally that had built up over time. He wanted to run, he wanted to curse him out, he wanted to smash his head into the cogs of the machines, but his body wouldn't move.
Joey fixed his collar and held his hands together, "At first Mister Flynn I was very upset with the fact you saw my little hobby, in fact you almost died that same night!" He covered his mouth again to hold back a laugh, "I was in there with you that night, I had a knife to your throat, it would have been so simple! But that night you looked like you were in so much pain, I found it odd. Usually when you pass out from one of your drinking binges you sleep so calmly."
Shawn felt sick, but when Joey had finished talking he had finally snapped out of the initial shock. He swallowed back and balled his fists, "You BASTARD!"
He lunged his hands at Joey's throat, blind rage guiding him. He should have been more careful. He should have looked.
And he should have seen the knife.
Joey moved quickly and grabbed ahold of Shawn's neck slamming him against the wall and jamming the blade into his stomach. The air in Shawn's lungs was forced painfully out leaving him wheezing and coughing, but the knife in his body made him try to scream only to have it caught in his throat.
Joey snickered and looked at him with a sort of coy appreciation, "I know it doesn't seem like it Mister Flynn but you've already put up a better fight than Mister Franks ever could have. Oh...he was such a nice boy... I almost felt a hint of guilt with what I had to do to him."
Shawn grappled at his hands trying desperately to pull them off and get air. The searing pain of the knife moving even the slightest bit sent a horrific burning throughout his body. He felt himself shaking and tears on his face, and Joey's sadistic giggling only made it everything worse.
Joey pulled out the blade and held it against Shawn's face making him close his eyes and whimper.
Joey laughed darkly and dragged it down his cheek gently, "You know up till now I've only killed people for important reasons.." Joey let out a breath, a bit of bliss in his sigh,
"But this time? it's simply for fun."
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