#Henry: William- I know you’re the one murdering these children

[fandomwritingbit]

Could you do one with William afton's wife walks in on him putting the bead boy in the Freddy suit and he knows she would tell but he doesn't really want to kill her but she would try to take they're daughter away from him

Hiya, finally got around to doing this one lol. I broke two of my fingers at work so this was a mare to type lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Red-handed. 

William x wife reader 

Warnings: child murder, threat, violence, reader makes a bad decision.

Something felt off the second you entered the building. The air is heavy with knowledge you don't have a clue about, but it still chills you, making you pull your cardigan tighter around your shoulders. Your husband should be here somewhere, no doubt sorting something out that happened earlier in the day; he often made use of late hours for work, leaving you home alone and frankly bored. But tonight was different, call it a sixth sense, but sat at home watching it get later and later you just knew something was wrong. So here you are, looking for your partner and silently begging for him to be alright.

If something happened to him you don't know what you'd do.

This place is full of potential accidents, those mascot death traps being at the top of the list. Since you met William all those years ago, the thought of his creations being his downfall nestled in the back of your mind. You thank the stars every day that your children aren't as scared of the animatronics as you are.

Your footsteps are the only thing you can hear in the building, the usually lively corridors hushed with the silence of after hours. It's creepy as all Hell, but the knowledge of your husband being here somewhere was a great comfort. You try ringing him. Again. Your phone is ringing but his is deadly quiet. It must have run out of battery because you can't hear it in the building.

Eventually you've made your way to the back offices, calling for William as you peek in his office, then Henry's, both are empty. But a coat hook proves to you he's here, his jacket hung up on it from the end of the hallway looking almost like a figure standing there.

You're starting to feel a little bit pointless, looking from room to room, including the showroom for William, each coming to no avail. There's only one place you haven't been, and his words replay in your mind as you recall a previous conversation. "Don't come in here without me. It's not safe." You asked him why at the time and he frowned. "It's full of endoskeletons and unfinished characters." He answered bluntly, before adding, "Not to mention it's practically made of asbestos." 

And you listened. Until now. It's a push come to shove situation, you have no choice but to look in there, though you still feel a tingle of guilt as you approach the door. The ‘parts and service’ sign amplifies your apprehension. Reaching out for the handle, you hesitate as your fingertips brush against it, thinking about how William was going to react when he found out you've gone in here. But you push through, the worry of his well being outweighing any doubt.

The very second you open the door you’re greeted with the overwhelming stench of iron, familiar enough to you that you gasp. Blood, undoubtedly, the metallic smell invading your mind and stimulating an animalistic impulse to bolt, to get as far away from this scene as possible. You carry on, entering the room but unable to see anything due to large shelves blocking your view. 

“William?” You speak, hardly audible. “William?!” You manage more firmly this time. There’s no response, but a sudden metal clanking sound rang out, making you flinch. It's enough to see you turn the corner in a panic, spurred by fear that your husband could be hurt. When you do you freeze, as if life was taken from your body and you suddenly became inanimate. It is subconscious, forcing you to look at the gruesome scene in front of you. You would look away if you could, you don't want to see the blood on the floor leading up his leg, coating his hands and the small, unmoving body within them. It’s like your mind needs you to know exactly how real this is. And you resent it. 

A hoarse breathy sound leaves you as your husband glares at you, a cruel expression warping his features that you’ve never seen before. You want to ask what happened, but you don’t need to. Your eyes flicking around the room reveals it all. A knife dripping with red, the child dead and suspended above the open mascot suit. 

“W-what…?” You start shakily. William grunts with the effort of lifting the corpse, steadying the suit with one hand as the other slowly drops the child inside, letting you watch in horror as he lowers them until it’s secure enough for him to let go. You continue staring, no legitimate train of thought in your mind, before he sighs, finally turning his attention to you. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, the question sharp, tinted with accusation like you had done something equal to him just by being here. 

“I-I came to ch-check on you. I thought something had hap- something has happened. What is this, William?” As your speaking the gravity of this catches up to you, your husband has hurt- killed this child. And there’s no remorse in his face, just a cold realism. In the pit of your stomach you know that this wasn’t an accident and it terrifies you. 

An almost amused expression crosses his face as he scoffs, but it’s still mean. “What have you done?” You’re suddenly incensed, a rage like you’ve never felt coursing through your veins. “What have you done?” You ask again, scowling. You’ve known this man for what felt like your whole life and now you hate him, he fucking disgusts you. 

“Easy.” He raises his hands like he’s trying to defend himself, trying to justify the unjustifiable.  “We can-” He steps towards you slightly and you immediately recoil. 

He stiffened, his expression completely changing, as the grave and serious feeling finally reached him. He looks at you with an unnameable emotion, “Don’t you fucking dare flinch away from me.” It’s said so harshly, so venomously that a pang of fear spreads through your chest. All of a sudden you’re aware of what William is capable of and whilst it still repels you, the violent reality chills your blood. You’re alone, with him. With that. 

He watches the cogs turn in your head. He always knew you’d find out who he is eventually. It's inevitable, if not exactly like this then through a firm knock on the door concealing two uniformed officers. What’s the saying? ‘All things done in darkness will come to light.’ Well, here’s the fucking light, and it’s looking at him like he’s a monster. And it equally pisses him off and excites him.

 “Come here.” It’s an order. 

“No, William… I…” There are tears in your eyes at the emotional whiplash you’re experiencing. When he again steps towards you, you jump back, bumping into the shelving behind you, odd objects clattering on the floor. “Dont! Don’t touch me.” You hiss, panic making you raise your hands to strike at him, him touching you seems like the worst thing imaginable. You hit him in the chest, then again in the face before he stops you, grabbing your wrists and banging them above your head. The force of it again shakes the shelves, proving your terror right. 

“Don’t be fucking scared of me. I’ve never hurt you before, have I? Why would I start now?” He speaks through his teeth and it’s soberingly firm. 

“Get off me.” You struggle against him, thrashing as much as his brutal grip will allow. 

“You,” He lowers his head so he’s speaking directly in your face. “You are the mother of my children, I’m not going to lay a finger on you… Unless you make me.” 

Instantly you go still, his threat thinly veiled but clear as crystal in the damp and bloody room. There’s a man you recognise. A man who likes to bargain. Only this isn’t business, it’s life or death, his life for yours. 

“There you go. You need to get your head on straight, this is nothing to you.” And despite the poisonous hatred you feel you find yourself nodding, you have more than yourself to worry about and you’re as obligated to him as he is for you. For better or worse. 

[dalekofchaos]

William Afton's motivations and goals

From this reddit thread

and this reddit thread

I'll say this right off the bat: I am 100% certain that William's motives for murder revolves around his family. I think everything we know about William from the games, novels, and now film is pointing to this being the case.

However, there is nuance to this that should be understood. Even with this being the case, with William somehow caring about his kids in his own twisted way, William can not love.

Look to The Silver Eyes:

"We both wanted to love," he [William] said in those melodious tones. "Your father [Henry] loved. And now I have loved." "You killed."

Then The Fourth Closet:

"I wanted so desperately to have been the one on that stage, but it was always her. All of his love went into her." "You're talking about Afton." Jessica stopped, and Charlie [Really Circus Baby/Elizabeth] nodded confirmation. "William Afton never made anything with love," Jessica snarled.

Baby then described the moment of Elizabeth's death, from both of their perspectives.

“The little girl approached me and pulled the sheet away. I felt nothing; it’s no more than a record of what happened. But there is feeling, my feeling as I pulled the sheet away, and stood in awe before this creature my father loved, this daughter he had made for himself. The daughter who was better than me, the daughter he wished I had been. I wanted to be her, so badly.”

William did not love Elizabeth, he loved Circus Baby, which remember, in the novel's storyline was originally created by Henry as the oldest-aged Charlie. William is obsessed with Henry, his creations, and his family. Quote from The Silver Eyes: (this was when the police was investigating him following the Missing Children's Incident)

A search of his house had found a room crammed with boxes of mechanical parts and a musty yellow rabbit suit, and stacks of journals full of raving paranoia, passages about Henry that ranged from wild jealousy to near-worship.

Another quote from The Silver Eyes:

“Oh,” he gasped. “You’re something beautiful aren’t you?” Charlie recoiled as if he had touched her. What’s that supposed to mean?

With later context, we know better why he said that- Quote from The Fourth Closet:

“Even after this; embodying the one thing Father did love, I'm not enough. Because he can’t duplicate this, he can’t make himself like me.” Her [Elizabeth's] voice began to grow angry again. “He can’t duplicate what happened to me, or maybe he’s too scared to try it on himself. I broke free of my prison, I emerged from the flames and the wreckage of Henry’s last great failure, and I went to my father. I gave myself to him, to study, to use, to learn the secrets of my creation. And still it is you [Charlie, the 3rd robot] he wants.” “You, maybe he can re-create. Henry somehow got a piece of himself into you, and that’s something we haven’t seen before. That’s ... unique.”

Throughout The Fourth Closet, we see William trying to do this, to recreate what Henry did: to put a piece of himself into his own creation.

That was in the chapter immediately after Carlton finds William, next to what's revealed to be the molten amalgamation of all of his victims. That amalgam makes an appearance earlier in the book, but let's look at what William says in that scene, describing his goal and reasoning for this. (I am trimming down these lines for the sake of this post)

“I have faced my own mortality, Jessica. I knew I was dying and through every broken fragment of my body, I was profoundly, immeasurably afraid. I fear it more than I fear life like this, even when every waking instant is pain, and sleep is possible only when induced by enough medication to kill most people.” “Everyone is afraid to die,” Jessica said. “And you should be more afraid than anyone else, because if there’s a hell, there’s a hole at the bottom of it reserved for you.” Afton nodded with a moment of honest resignation. “In time, I’m sure that’s where I will find myself. But the devil has knocked on my door before, and I’ve turned him away." “So, what? You want to live forever?” “Certainly not like this,” he said. “So, what, you’re making yourself into a robot?” “No, that’s science fiction,” he said, unamused.

Then, William says this.

“The most terrible accidents sometimes bear the most beautiful fruits,” he said, as if to himself. “Re-creating the accident—that is the duty and the honor of science. To replicate the experiment, and obtain the same result. I give my life to this experiment, piece by piece.” He nodded at the girl, and she approached Jessica with deliberate steps.

He then shows Jessica the "melted scrapheap," then asks her how she thinks the original animatronics came to life.

“How did the creatures at Freddy’s move, of their own will, with no outside force controlling them?” he asked mildly. “The children were still inside. Their souls were inside those creatures,” “Oh, Jessica, come now. What else? What else was inside them, to bind their spirits so inseparably to the bear, to the rabbit, to the fox? How did they die, Jessica? How Jessica?” “You killed them. They died in the suits,” she said hoarsely. “Their bodies were bound inside, along with their souls.”

Then, he describes how he plans to live forever:

“The spirit follows the flesh, it would seem, and also the pain. If I wish to become my own immortal creation, my body must lead my spirit to its eternal home. Since I am still ... experimenting ... I move my flesh piece by piece.” He looked thoughtfully over at the creature on the table. “More and more,” he murmured, almost to himself, “it is a test of the strength of my own will. How much of myself can I carve away, and still remain in control?”

He wants to surgically remove his organs, piece by piece, with Elizabeth's help, into his 'eternal home,' the amalgam, to become "his own immortal creation."

William is trying to recreate what Henry did, putting a piece of himself into his own creation. In Henry's case, he put a piece of himself into the robotic recreation of his deceased child; in William's case, he is putting a piece of himself into the fused amalgamation of all of his victims, which I think is important to my next point.

William sees the animatronics and his victims as family.

This was already clear with Baby, as Elizabeth described earlier. But here's more lines from The Silver Eyes.

“You're a sick bastard,” Carlton sputtered. “And you’ve created monsters. The kids you killed are still here. You’ve imprisoned them!” “They are home, with me.” Dave’s voice was coarse as he said it, and the large mascot head slid forward, tilting. “Their happiest day.” “How do we get out?” Charlie placed one hand on the mascot head and pushed it back into position on Dave’s shoulders. The fur felt wet and sticky, as though the costume itself were sweating. “There isn’t a way out anymore. All that’s left is family.” His round eye reappeared through one of the sockets, glimmering in the light.

I don't think its wrong to say that the story of FNAF (at least early FNAF) was about "the Afton family," because that is exactly how he sees the missing children. He finds comfort in living amongst them, especially as Springbonnie, and he even says why-

“Because I am one of them,” he said.

Most of what I'm referencing in this post comes from the novels, but this is not an exclusive trait to his character in these books. Look to the recently-released film:

“The Little ones tell me you have a sister, she will love it here!"

and...

"Wake up Children! I brought someone for you to play with!"

That line I also find really interesting, because of William's language elsewhere in the movie, referring to his daughter, Vanessa:

"Put that thing away, and help me clean up the mess that you created!"

With the first line, he's referring to Mike like he's a toy for the animatronics. In the second line, he's referring to Vanessa's gun, but its also as if he's talking to a child, asking her to put her toys away and help him. Think about it, he's blaming Vanessa for something that is not her fault at all, it's the language of an abusive father to his little kid. I bet this is actually something William has told her before, to persuade and manipulate her. ("He really messed you up, didn't he?" as Mike put it.)

Anyway, I just wanted to bring it up because it just strengthens this point, William sees the characters like his own family; which is ultimately where I think his motives come from. He finds comfort in his robotic family because of his disdain for his real family.

William's kids change between each continuity.

In the games, he has 3 real children- Michael, the Crying Child, and Elizabeth- and kills Gabriel, Jeremy, Susie, Fritz, Cassidy, and so on. Michael of course, kills his brother. In the novels, he only has Elizabeth, and rather than killing Gabriel and Jeremy, he kills a kid named Michael (Brooks), and a kid without an established name (who is characterized by his black-and-white striped shirt, crying, and who gets told he'll be put back together by Carlton-- all relating back to the CC. All of this is stripped from the Graphic Novel, where that kid becomes Gabriel). Again, there's juxtaposition between the kids he murders and his real children. In the film, Vanessa is established to be his daughter, but only her- Michael and his siblings are not presented as being related to Afton (There could still be a plot twist regarding this though). We also don't know the identities of William's victims, aside from the fact that Mike's brother (Garrett) was kidnapped by William rather than bullied to death by Mike.

Ultimately, these continuity differences is why I can't say "William kills because he wants to bring back his son after Mike killed him," or whatever, because that objectively does not happen in either the novels or the film. He becomes deranged no matter what.

In my opinion, the Bite of 83 is the first thing that happens in the games timeline, and does result in William killing Charlotte (and also the creation of the Puppet, hence why it doesn't exist in the novels and why she doesn't possess anything).

In the books, William is established to be jealous of Henry, even before he brings his creations to life- and I think it's still because of his family- hence why he goes for Charlotte. William doesn't have his sons, and he clearly doesn't care much for his daughter, so he robs Henry of his perfect family.

In the film, I think his motives are more speculative. William's first kill in the other continuities is Charlie, but its unconfirmed if she (or Henry) exist in the film. William kills Mike's brother, Garrett, separate from the five missing children, but we have no established motive as to why.

This will probably be a big reveal in a future film, maybe Mike and Garrett are related to William and thats why he abducted Garrett (Affair Theory?). When Mike tells Vanessa about his family, he says they'd sit around the table, say graces, etc.- its a cookie-cutter perfect family. Maybe William wanted to destroy that, like he did with Henry's. Maybe, again, I don't know.

Now for my spin on the theory. I believe this was William's goal, but his goal in the games was to became immortal, but also to bring his family back as the Funtime Animatronics. Mrs Afton would become Ballora, Elizabeth as Baby obviously, CC as Funtime Freddy and once Michael is killed, he would become Funtime Foxy. And they would live forever as the Funtimes, eternal and killing together as a family unbroken!

[bowowark]

I often make jokes about how silly and meow meow my William is, and I also encourage those jokes from people who find my au. But I feel like that waters down how much of a monster he is if it’s the only thing I talk about, so here’s some reasons why you should hate my William.

No he didn’t murder children, no he didnt make child killing robots, no he didn’t do some of the outlandishly evil things that canon William did, but he did murder people. Adults, but murder is murder.

He obviously should’ve come clean after the first murder, since it was an accident. If he did, he may have had a lighter sentence and still lived on and had a happy life, but no. He couldn’t lose everything he had built, and my god, what if this ruins his reputation!? So he kept the secret, even convincing his best friend to keep it with him, because it wasn’t just William’s fault, sure he cut some corners on safety, and probably should’ve taught the worker how to put the suit on in the first place, but Henry is as much at fault as he is!!

And so the lie grew and grew. A cop came over to ask about the disappearance, so they had to take care of him as well. Who would care about that guy anyway? Oh? The worker’s mother came to ask about her son? Well… they definitely weren’t happy about killing her, but what else were they gonna do? Confess?? After 3 murders?!? Oh uh… 4 actually… forgot about that other worker who walked in on them killing that mom… maybe 5 if we count the dad too…. Ok maybe this is bad.

Henry, as the good person he is, is practically begging William to let me confess to the police. Henry always was a terrible liar, and he hated lying anyway, as well as… murdering innocent people. It got so bad that Will ended up attacking Henry because he was one dial away from calling 911, pinned him against the wall by his neck (must be a common thing among William aftons) and after he let go he told Henry “if you ever say anything, you’re dead.”

Sure, that’s not a great thing to hear from a life long best friend, and it’s incredible that could actually do what he did, Will considerably smaller and weaker than Henry, makes you think what else he’s capable of, and would he ever actually kill Henry? No!! Of course not! …right?

And so on the interactions between the two have become more and more tense. William keeps saying he hear noises from the animatronics… strange, god the way he looks at them… Henry’s never seen him look that terrified…

One day Will came up to Henry as they were working and just asked ��do you think I’m a good person?” Of course Henry said yes, but the whole time he couldn’t take his eyes off of the box cutter Will had in his hand, no he was being threatening with it! He only had it cause he just opened a box!! But, I guess after a friend attacks you, you start to see them differently…

Finally Henry cracked and told his wife everything, and I mean everything. So needless to say, Will was pissed, you would probably think he would follow through with the promise he made, but Will wanted to hurt Henry, more than killing would hurt. At that point, William’s view of Henry, and everything related to Henry, was completely warped. Henry meant nothing to him, Rebecca meant nothing to him, and Henry’s daughter, Charlie, meant nothing to him. yes, even after he loved her so deeply. The whole family were basically new people, people who he despised.

William killed Charlie. She was around 19 at the time, he did it in the alley behind the pizzeria. After he cleaned up, he put on his best performance and rushed into the building, crying and yelling. Telling Henry that he had found Charlie dead in the back, and he didn’t know what happened. What an absolute monster.

And the worst part is, he would still make excuses, he would still cry about how it was so hard for him too, he would still ask, “do you think I’m a good person?” And in his heart, his cold, dead heart, he still thinks he is.

So that my friends is why you should hate my William, because he is a manchild. Goodnight

[deadandwalking]

OKK TUMBLR i have 5 IQ and lots of excitement THE FNAF MOVIE RELEASES IN THE UK IN TWO FUCKING DAYS !!! AND I’M GONNA SEE IT :DDDD

this has triggered a s e v e r e brainrot, so i’m going to explain my own interpretations on the missing children (+ Charlie ofc) (because they remain my favourites, underused characters) and you’re all going to pretend you’re listening.

Starting off with Gabriel, i feel like for the soul of Freddy he was severely overlooked as a character. i believe he was one of the last to die, as Freddy tends to take longer to move about in the first game and typically sticks to the back of the building or follows Bonnie’s path. i think Gabriel, Jeremy and Fritz may have died together or at least knew eachother before death, although there’s limited evidence, it’s still nice to imagine they didn’t go alone. i think of him being around 8-10 age wise. Design wise, there’s really nothing besides his Fourth Closet appearance, like i said, overlooked.

Jeremy is a simple enough kid, probably was shy because Bonnie tends to be a bit behind on the hall camera and he’s always hiding in the storage closet. again, Freddy’s always following him + Freddy, Bonnie and Foxy all used the one hallway, so they’re probably familiar at the very least (he also ended up sharing pirate’s cove in UCN so he at least knew Foxy.) i don’t believe he was the same Jeremy who was bit, i believe that Jeremy Fitzgerald was an undercover cop investigating Charlie’s murder. (also, toy chica did the bite. the UCN voicelines were a dead giveaway, you mangle believers are outdated) (also some people apparently believe it was toy bonnie? how would that even work, that’s dumb, toy bonnie believers dni) he’s about 7-8 to me and again, nothing much appearance wise apart from Fourth Closet, so that’s who he is to me.

now Susie, my beloved Susie, she was the first to die, obviously. as much as i loved coming home, i like to stick to game lore for her. so she has her dog, not oliver and gretchen. i think her and Cassy are really close friends, for reasons mentioned in a previous post. i like to think that Susie doesn’t really get on with the boys, she tried to play with them at first but they wouldn’t play with her because she’s a fucking weirdo /aff so now she thinks they’re mean, which is why she sticks to her side of the building and leaves the boys to theirs. she’s also in the kitchen so much because that’s where Cassidy stays. cupcake is not possessed, but Susie treats it like a pet to help cope with her mourning of her dog. she’s 9, kept from the books, and i use the fruity maze appearance for her.

Fritz is a character i actually never really took to. Foxy was always overrated to me, there are so many better people. y’all are sleeping on so many great characters. although, i don’t really think of him as the loud, bossy, aggressive kid the fandom made him. i think of him as more shy, hence always hiding in pirates cove. bad tempered sure, but he’s no special case. he can’t do any more damage than Gabriel, Jeremy or Susie. he’s about 7-9 and his appearance is more like the stereotypical one though, didn’t like the fourth closet one, he doesn’t look right if he isn’t ginger.

Cassidy, my most beloved, she’s the VIP here. the main character, our star, she’s the moment. i love her so much and i feel attacked that she was so ignored. she was the second to die i imagine, she died in the ballpit, and simply did not vibe with that. she’s angy girl but we love her for that. Charlie and Susie work to keep her in line though. Cassidy, unlike the others, knows the difference between the nightguards and William, hence why Golden can’t actually kill you in fnaf 1 and 2. she knows better. she just doesn’t like any adult ever (apart from Henry/OMC, that’s her new dad and fishing partner) speaking of OMC, UCN was all her doing. she’s a creative kid, what can i say. all the animatronics were being controlled by her. the voicelines were imitations, OMC, Puppet, and the whithers being the only exception. she’s sort of like a mother to the missing kids, she’s bossy and a lot stricter with the boys than with Susie. despite being the mother, she’s only 4, being the youngest missing kid and the second youngest kid overall. i use a few different appearances for her, but the most common is the one from the security logbook

Charlie is a messy character so i’d like to start off by specifying that she is heavily game coded here, book Charlie isn’t really my thing (i also have an unexplainable hatred for John, no clue why.) so she’s 3 here, not fuckin 20 something. she was the last to die, and the one who gave everyone bodies (FNAF 2 was the first game including the missing children chronologically) she’s the second mother to everyone, despite being the youngest. she looks after everyone, and makes sure they’re not off getting crisped up by her dad nor having their fursuits chopped up by her dad’s business partner. she was the one sent Cassidy to hell to meet Henry, Cass had no intentions of following William originally. I use her midnight motorist appearance.

anyways yeah i haven’t really been into fnaf for a while now, i’m just normal about it, no big thoughts

[revvnant]

discord discourse 6/?; aka i’ve written a lot about michael on discord and need to move all of it here. this was originally sent as a back and forth in message format, and has been edited to be ( relatively ) legible as a standalone post. | evan’s death and the town & elizabeth and the shifting dynamic of the afton household post-baby and pre-sister location. | content warning for discussion of extreme grief, depression, and abuse.

this headcanon assumes two things: that evan was older than elizabeth, making her the youngest afton child, and that there was a substantial gap between his death in 1983 and her death around 1990 ( presuming sister location and the first game take place in 1991-1993, leaving at least six months between the incident at pizza world and michael going to the basement ).

not to be a bitch who recently rewatched twin peaks, but my obsession with the town of hurricane as a character is well-documented on this blog, and i’m very interested in how things change after evan’s death ( the first big shock; a child was just killed at a birthday party, turning william into a subject of sympathy and mike into a social pariah ), then the missing children incident ( i include charlie here for simplicity’s sake, simply every child murdered after evan by william; at first, things are brushed off as coincidences -- she ran away to be with her other family, he’s just missing, etc. -- but the first time tangible evidence of a murder is found, there is a hard ‘it could never happen here’ response that quickly evolves into terror and fearmongering inspired by the media at the time about the fbi, serial killers, and the satanic panic ), and finally with the founders splitting and freddy’s seemingly being under henry’s control while william tries to open circus baby’s and it promptly falls through. there are changes in how they are collectively coping, and it just doesn’t make sense to me narratively or logically to have evan die and then elizabeth immediately afterwards; there needs to be a slow creep here. also the mci.

on a more personal level, post-83 is about michael's reputation imploding. his social life completely falls apart; he was a bully, he maintained his reputation through fear ( very stephen king-core ), he strong-armed people into being his friend by leveraging both his physical strength and his social capital with his father running the restaurant. he kind of sucks. once he does something inexcusably violent, something he can’t come back from, everybody drops him. his friends, not wanting to be connected to the incident, give him the cold shoulder. teachers and other adults in the town assume that he is on the fast track to juvie ( he does not go to juvie ) and their expectations for him plummet, meaning he is without support. most importantly, william either capitalises on or benefits from this public perception. not only can he ride on the sympathy and presumed innocence in connection with the missing children, having lost a child himself, but any attempt by michael to point out the strange shit he gets up to can be shut down with a simple ‘there’s a criminal in this house and it isn’t me’, and that applies to people outside looking in as well -- if you’re going to suspect an afton of wrongdoing, it’s not going to be business-owner and tragic grieving father william, but known killer and delinquent michael.

and i need that to come with a myriad of contradictory emotions in michael. yes guilt! yes self-loathing! but also, the feeling of ostracisation leading to hurt and frustration, and that frustration fermenting into bottled-up anger, which only reinforces what they think of him when he loses his grip and lets it out. he is on the wheel of hurt into anger into shame. he is lying awake at night years after the fact like, ‘is one mistake going to ruin my life?’ and then slapping himself because ‘one mistake’ was killing his brother. he knows that he can’t bring evan back, he thinks it’s unfair that he’s still alive and evan isn’t, and there’s nothing he can do about it but endlessly police himself. every move he makes is scrutinised, and that results in exhaustion and, eventually, explosions.

 he’s afraid to be around children, but he works at freddy’s, he can’t just avoid them; and his fear of seeing another child come to harm manifests as him flipping out and screaming if a child does something he thinks will put them in danger -- drawing their parents’ ire. all this to say, he is not a doormat after evan’s death; he’s stewing in a cocktail of emotions, but he’s not passive and he’s not letting people walk all over him. his attempts to be that way only ever backfire.

and he treats elizabeth like she's made of porcelain, terrified of losing her, too. he was already effectively raising his siblings -- and i’ve actually seen some pushback for this, saying that it woobifies mike or detracts from william somehow, and i disagree. it’s not at all uncommon in some american communities ( including those in utah, without intending to stereotype ) to have eldest children act as primary caretakers, especially in big or busy families. while the aftons are not actively religious, i think it makes sense in the town they live in. it’s just a sort of passive expectation, but the specifics of their home life make it worse than usual. all this to say, michael is extremely protective of elizabeth, perhaps to the point of hovering or being controlling. he does everything with her, devotes his time away from work to her, she’s more of a daughter than a sister to him with an eight year age gap. i’m very much in the camp of ‘william was presents > presence with elizabeth’, a different form of damage to the abuse shown to michael, but damage nonetheless. michael was present, but he wasn’t a parent no matter how hard he tried to be, and the guilt and the self-policing did not stop the pressure from continuing to cook his brain. and maybe something would have given, if william hadn’t gotten there first.

it’s been seven years since evan, they’ve found a new normal, and then elizabeth is gone. moreover, it’s indisputably william’s fault, intentional or not, and mike doesn’t even know about the murder robot. all he knows is that william took elizabeth to a party with his new robots at his new restaurant and she died. that’s blame enough. and here’s william, not knowing how to cope, not because he's super torn up over it being elizabeth personally, but because he broke his own pattern, and because he is forced into a position of understanding. for years michael has been the fuckup who got a child killed in an accident and everyone has hated and blamed him and william has grilled him for it. just absolutely taken advantage of it, actively, passively, whatever, it has been a boon. and now he’s done the same thing, and the tables have turned, and he’s taken someone from michael who cannot be replaced. 

and this is where the doormat kicks in for me. this absolutely destroys mike. he doesn’t speak to anyone for weeks after her death, and it takes him over a month to even look at william again. and i think having to live in a house with a grieving person also has an impact on william. it's not that he suddenly sees the error of his ways, it's that he's trapped with a low functioning boy who now doesn't even have the energy to lash out at him because he killed the light of his life. and to me william is scary because you never know what line he'll cross next, he can do anything and everything, but i also think william is a creature of passion, and that having to just sit and stew in michael's very open very overwhelming grief was not something he could ignore or dismiss.

and the thing is, contrary to the expected results, this leads to them becoming closer. they go full codependent. that house goes into apocalypse mode where they're the sole survivors, a family of five ( with the emilies as close friends adding four more ) reduced to a family of two. i love the idea of william snapping back to normalcy; his guilt is less 'i killed elizabeth' ( i say it every time but even if you have children and you’re also a child serial killer you do not give much of a shit about dead kids ), it was ‘i have put my family on thin fucking ice and the only person i have left in the entire world is completely different now and i have to deal with that’.  he cannot opt out he can't walk away. ( well he could have, he could have been like ‘michael move out,’ but i don't think it even occurred to him. ) they're so scared to upset the status quo because if one more even happens they'll both lose it entirely. william has to stop pushing that button michael has to stop acting out they have to find peace. they’re in the life of pi raft they have no other option. william offers the olive branch of starting over and mike takes it and tries his best to do everything william asks of him and be a dutiful son, and the resentment is just completely dampened and deadened by the depression. there is nothing to lash out for.

they both have to sit there and face this and the aftershocks of it. and i think there is horror in william being like, this was too much this is where i swear it off,' ( the fucking child crusher 9000 ) and trying to flee back to normalcy and build a relationship with the son he abused. mostly predicated not william on suddenly switching to being loving and supporting, but a lot of the abuse just stopping. they both are so tired they barely have energy for anything anymore. it is such a dour house. only for william to die trying to clean up his loose ends and hide evidence. he shoved those things in the basement and they gained semi-sentience. he left the bodies of his victims in the restaurant to rot and when he went back to dispose of them he got sproinged.

it rings poetic to me for the very last death on his roster, michael, to be the one who's ( metaphorically ) carrying all the souls, to be the odd person out in terms of how remnant works ( self-possession of his own dead body ). william tried to run away, he tried to say okay we are closing that chapter of my life, and it blew up in his face. when elizabeth died it was already too late. when charlie died it was already too late. william could have tried for normalcy after evan died and instead 1) decided child murder was really cool and 2) to rub it in michael's face and milk it for all it was worth. and then it happens to him and he's like guhbuh oh nwo ok cleanup time i wanna lay low now and by that point like... that is not an option. he thought evan and elizabeth were bookends. wrong bookends. it started with michael killing evan and ended with michael dying, and now you have to fucking deal with what you set in motion ( the forever zombie revenge stalker ).

[runelocked]

“I always thought you were smart, but a smart man would let sleeping dogs lie.” // @gunactii henry !

EVERYTHING HURTS, THOUGH THAT’S NOTHING NEW. William focuses on one task at a time, that’s what he’s been reduced to, and for the moment, chooses breathing over replying to Henry’s words. It’s not as if either of them are going anywhere, anyway. But the words — the first words Henry has spoken to him since the springlock incident, hell, since William had manipulated and murdered him — ring loud in the room, and have him fuming, embittered by the reminder.

Smart, yes, but not immune from paranoia. Far from it: in his mind’s eye, he reflects on the events that had led him here, lying in a pool of his own blood, locked in a back room by the very animatronics and children he’d sought to destroy in the first place. He hadn’t expected that anything could have possibly gone wrong, sauntering into the pizzeria that night — what the hell could go wrong when all he planned on doing was destroying some old suits?

(Of course the spirits inside them hadn’t been grateful. Spoilt brats. William’s hatred and rage festers, and the rabbit suit around him groans in warning.)

(It hurts. Henry’s presence hurts more.)

And it gets to the point where he can’t focus on anything other than the accusations, and so ever-impatient, ever-prideful, William opens his mouth, spits out blood and metal. His first words in God knows how long. He’s stopped trying to keep track of how many days, weeks, months have passed since he’d been boarded up. Time moves differently when you’re dead, apparently. But he’s not really dead, is he? This is so much more than death. “A smart man,” he replies, words red-raw and rattling, “would— would never have believed we needed a security guard to watch over some u s e less hunks of metal.”

It’s the best he can do; a jab at Henry’s own death, at William’s betrayal. He’s too absorbed in turning over, suit and all, from the corner to the other side of the room where he lets his hollow, venomous, agonised gaze rest on his old friend. The rabbit suit’s eyes flicker and splutter and glow dim.

“Why do you stay here, Henry? To gloat?”

[five-incorrect-nights]

Henry: Oh boy! I sure can’t wait to open a family friendly diner with animatronics my buddy and I worked on! :)

William:

[anythingwriter]

Screams in the Night

Ada Thorne x Platonic!reader

Warnings: language, dickhead husband beats on his wife (not explicitly)

Word Count: 1,332

Requested by: @xoxo-deadshakira

Summary: Ada loves the new house Tommy bought her and Karl, but she can’t help but hear her neighbors screams in the night.

a/n: sorry it took so long darling. Hope you like it!❤️

Also this wasn’t proof read, if there’s mistakes let me know!🥰

*******************************************************

Ada learned to love the house Tommy had bought her. Yes, it was unnecessarily large for just her and Karl, but it offered so much. There was room for Karl to run and play, and Ada could actually invite friends over and not be cramped. Even her neighbors seemed nice.

The house to her right was a lovely family, at least they looked like it. William and y/n Johnson had two children, both boys. One was Karl’s age, Billy, and the other was just shy of five months. The adorable baby was Henry. Ada had tried to get a playdate for Karl and y/n always agreed, but William would interrupt last minute and said they had plans that day. Ada just shrugged it off, but now it was getting suspicious.

They seemed to be so happy and sweet, but it was getting harder and harder for Ada to ignore the screams in the night. She knew whatever was going on behind closed doors was nothing pretty.

Y/n would always come outside to water her garden or check their mail, and each time she had a different bruise that was poorly hidden. When Ada questioned her about it she just declared she was clumsy.

*******************

It was late at night when Ada heard a loud knock against her door. Knowing of Tommy’s enemies and considering the time she grabbed her small revolver from her purse and slowly crept towards the door. Holding her gun up, she forced the door open and held the gun to the intruder's face, but was only met with Tommy casually smoking a cigarette. Ada rolled her eyes and sighed, carelessly swinging her arms down to her side.

“Christ Tommy, do you even know what time it is? I could’ve shot you!”

Tommy just walked past her and poured himself a drink and plopped down on her couch.

Ada again rolled her eyes and shut the door before making her way over to Tommy, “Sure make yourself at home, s’not like you don’t pay for it.”

Tommy smirked up at his sister before putting his cigarette out. “How you been Ada? We all miss our lovely sister around.”

“Sure, act like you guys miss me, yeah. What’re you here for Tommy? You don’t just come to say hello.” She sat across from him and poured herself a drink, swallowing it all in one go. Tommy sighed, setting his drink down and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he went to speak when a loud scream from next door interrupted.

Ada stiffed in her spot, and Tommy raised a brow in her direction. It faded quite fast, but there was no doubt in Tommy’s mind that he heard what he heard.

He continued to stare at Ada, waiting for her to explain. Ada just sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, bringing her hand to pinch her nose.

“My neighbors, yeah, are a really sweet family. A nice husband and wife with two young boys. But almost every night I’ll hear screams, sometimes just once sometimes all night. I never know why, and I never ask. I’m too afraid to Tommy.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed, afraid? Why would she be afraid?

“Why are you afraid Ada? What’s going on over there, eh?”

She stood up and slammed her new drink on the table, “I don’t know Thomas! Bu-but the wife, her names y/n, always has new bruises everyday Tommy. And when I ask, she shuts down and says she’s clumsy.” She began to pace around the room, arms crossed with one leaning on the other, holding her head in her hand.

Tommy knew what she was referring to. He remembered when they were young and their neighbor down the street had the same thing happening to her, but then one day she was found dead, from strangulation. Her husband was never found.

“Ada..” he talked slow, not wanting to panic her even more, “ remember what happened to Mrs.Russo down the street, eh? Do you..” he gulped, no woman deserves this, “do you think that’s happening to her?”

Ada froze, not wanting to accept that her brother was probably right. She began to shake her head and stepped towards him, but stopped when another scream pierced the nights air.

She fell to the floor and began to cry, she should’ve helped this poor woman so long ago. She should’ve called her brothers, even Polly. It was a strong policy in the family that no man was to ever touch a woman, and they strongly lived by it.

Tommy hopped up from his seat and embraced Ada, rubbing circles all over her back. He whispered in her ear, “We should go help, yeah? You said they have kids? We need to help them Ada.” “C‘mon, up you go.” He pulled her up by her arms and helped her out the house. She didn’t resist, knowing he was right.

It took only moments to reach the Johnson's door, Ada took a deep breath, and so did Tommy. He drawled his gun and hid it behind his back before knocking, waiting for someone to answer. When the door slowly began to open, Ada took a step back letting her brother take the lead, not wanting to get in the way.

The siblings' hearts dropped when a terrified Billy opened the door with tears running down his face. Ada dropped to her knees, “Billy?! Sweetheart are you okay? Where’s your mum and brother?!”

He only began to cry harder, tears steadily spilling from his e/c eyes. All he could do was point up the stairs and Ada embraced him, telling Tommy to go. He didn’t hesitate before running towards the direction Billy pointed. He ran up the stairs and heard grunting and thrashing like someone was being murdered.

Following the noises, Tommy crept as softly as he could until he got to the last door at the end of the hall. He could hear crying from an infant, but nothing was louder than the grunts of pain and struggle.

Raising his gun in the air, Tommy kicked the door in with all his strength. There on the floor was y/n Johnson, thrashing with all her strength, turning blue with her husband's hands around her neck.

Her husband didn’t even have time to react, before he could even lift his head Tommy had fired the gun. The bullet effortlessly flew between his eyes.

Nobody reacted, Tommy just stood there and y/n laid there while her husband‘s body bled out on her. Neither one of them moved until they heard the screams coming from little Henry’s crib. Tommy ran over to the woman and helped her push the dead man’s body off of her. Y/n got up and ran to her babies crib, hugging him close to her body. Tears were running down both of their faces as y/n rocked him back and forth, repeating over and over “You’re okay, mamas got you.”

Tommy didn’t know what to do, he stood there and watched the scene unfold before him, his heart swelling knowing that for once, he did something good.

He backed away from the door when he heard small footsteps running up the stairs, Billy bursting in the room and ran to his mum’s legs as she crouched and hugged him close. Ada followed in shortly after and hugged Tommy to her side, smiling at the sight in front of her.

Stroking both of her boys' heads, y/n turned towards the Shelbys and whispered thank you over and over. Ada smiled in content, knowing there would be no more screams in the night.

*******************************************************

Ahhh I’m sorry this is so bad!!

Have a great day sugars!!❤️❤️

@shadowfoxey @nothingleftthaticando @elenavampire21

[makerofmadness]

aight I’m taking an incorrect quotes generator but instead of generating i’m manually assigning incorrect quotes and just using it for templates. i used to do this for andy’s apple farm a lot but fnaf is currently steering my brain so now i’m doing that.

(under the cut)

Monty: I don’t do apologies. But I don’t want to kill you anymore.

-

Mr. Hippo: Jail's no fun, I'll tell you that. Orville: You've been? Mr. Hippo: Once, in Monopoly.

-

The Puppet: Alright, now everyone pay attention. I have an announcement to make and I only have a minute. Toy Freddy: Why? Toy Bonnie: Are you in a hurry? The Puppet: No, I was referring to your relatively short attention spans.

-

Michael Afton: Pals' night, done right, is about bonding. Sharing problems, origin stories, secrets. Henry Emily: I'll start. I worked my way through school as a phone sex operator. 1-800-DJFeelGood. William Afton: I would totally call that. Um... I used to murder children steal cars. Okay, who's next? Cassidy/Golden Freddy: I was forged in the bowels of Hell to torture the guilty for all of eternity. Michael Afton: Interesting share.

-

Golden Freddy: Anyone d- Freddy: Depressed? Bonnie: Drained? Chica: Dumb? Foxy: Disliked? Golden Freddy: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people ...

-

The Puppet: I hate William Afton. I hate him! And I'm the kind of person who doesn't hate anyone. Lefty: You hate Jeremy Fitzgerald. The Puppet: Well, he’s hateful! Besides him, I don't hate anyone. Lefty: You hate Fritz Smith. The Puppet: Well, he calls me 'kiddo' and clicks his tongue! Besides Jeremy and Fritz I don't hate anyone. Lefty: You hate Freddy.  The Puppet: Oh, who doesn't?! Lefty: The Puppet: Okay, fine, so I hate a lot of people. But I hate William more.

-

Freddy: Things have actually been going really well with the Puppet. Our friendship is in a really good place. Freddy: Last week I said, “Did you know the weiner dog is neither a weiner nor a dog?” Instead of saying, “Shut up, Freddy,” she said, “Okay.”

-

Michael Afton: You read my diary?! Scrap Baby: At first, I didn’t know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

-

William Afton: Rules were made to be broken! Henry Emily: Yeah, well, bodies weren't! 

-

Toy Freddy: Name one time I haven’t acted professional Freddy: You’re holding a juice box right now Toy Freddy: It’s to stop me from spilling my juice.

-

Sun: *signs a legal document with a glitter gel pen*

-

Henry Emily: You’re a lying, cheating, piece of shit! You’re not the person I married!

William Afton: Fine then! We’re getting a divorce! And i’m taking the kids!

Michael Afton, pushing the monopoly board away from them: …maybe we should stop playing

-

Foxy: Sorry, but you're under arrest for robbery. Balloon Boy: What did I steal? Foxy, trying not to cry: My heart.

(this is platonic btw <3)

-

Henry Emily: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk. Henry Emily: *cuts piece of cake* William Afton: …can I have some? Henry Emily: Cake is for talkers. 

-

Henry Emily: Do you miss the imagination of childhood? William Afton: I never had one. Henry Emily: An imagination or a childhood? 

-

Gregory: I am very small Gregory: And I have no money Gregory: So you can imagine the kind of stress I’m under 

-

Vanessa: I am at a loss for words! Glamrock Freddy, telling Gregory later: Despite being lost for words, Vanessa yelled at me for the next 45 minutes

-

Gregory: I wasn’t hurt that bad Gregory: (Glamrock) Freddy said all the bleeding was internal Gregory: That’s where the blood’s supposed to be

-

Sun: *dials 911* Sun: hey i hate to be “that guy” but i glued myself to the ceiling again

-

Sun: Look, let’s just agree to say “I’m sorry” on the count of three Sun: One, two, three Sun: Gregory: Sun: See, now I’m just disappointed in both of us 

-

Ennard: Surgery is just stabbing someone to life. Michael Afton: Please never become a surgeon 

-

Jeremy Fitzgerald: Do you know when you know someone, and you see that they have another, like, life away from you and it feels weird? Fritz Smith: Like when you see your teacher in the grocery store weird, or like when someone you’ve known for a long time starts wearing a cowboy hat weird? Jeremy Fitzgerald: The… The first thing weird Fritz Smith: Oh, that’s good, ‘Cause I was thinking about getting a cowboy hat 

-

The Puppet: *kicks “G” off Graveyard sign* The Puppet: Let’s get this party started 

-

Toy Bonnie: time sensitive question how flirt boy Mangle: Throw rocks at he Toy Freddy: Hot dog Toy Chica: Kill him Toy Bonnie: thanks guys

-

Michael Afton after getting scooped: You tricked me! Circus Baby/Ennard: No, I merely deceived you. "Tricked" makes it sound like we have a playful relationship. 

-

Henry Emily: You will machete through this! Henry Emily: *make it Henry Emily: do not machete your way through this William Afton: too late 

-

Toy Bonnie: Pardon the intrusion, but- Bonnie: On this moment or just my life in general? 

-

Gregory: If I run and leap at Freddy, he’ll catch me in his arms! Gregory: *runs and leaps at Glamrock Freddy* Glamrock Freddy, who is holding coffee: *drops the coffee to catch Gregory*

-

Mr. Hippo: If you tear more holes in a net, it would end up having fewer. William Afton: STOP

-

Golden Freddy, dumping out a shopping bag full of Lunchables onto the table: Tonight, we feast. 

-

Ennard: Welcome to my very first vlog in which I will try different hair products! Ennard: *sprays the hairspray into their mouth* Ennard: Well, right off the bat I can tell you that this one is not very good 

-

Michael Afton, to Fritz Smith: I dare you to— Jeremy Fitzgerald: Fritz isn’t allowed to accept dares. Fritz Smith: Apparently I have ”no regard for my personal safety” 

-

Freddy: You're smiling, did something good happen? The Puppet: I can't smile just because I feel like it? Bonnie: William tripped and fell in the parking lot. 

-

Roxy: *accidentally hits Glamrock Chica in the face* Roxy: *trying to decide between saying “I’m fucking sorry” and “are you okay?” Roxy: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?! 

-

Helpy: Why do you have a diary? Michael Afton: To keep secrets from my computer.

-

Bon-Bon: I relate to Belle because she loves books and likes people for who they are! Bonnet: I relate to Tinkerbell because she needs attention or she dies

[mable-stitchpunk]

Please rant abt fnaf interpretations I am, all ears

.I didn't expect such a positive response! 8D I got a few asks for them, and I'll see if maybe I can reply to a few of them with different interpretations...

...Also-

Let's begin with the rants. You might've seen some of these points before, but I'll bring them back up because I desire to.

1. The ghosts of the Missing Children are evil.

I don't read a lot of fanworks anymore, but I used to loathe when I would find those fics where the murdered children would be portrayed as vindictive little monsters who were going out of their way to ruin everyone's lives. Possessing main characters and forcing animatronics to go against their wishes to attack innocents for little reason.

I find this is the reason I also don't like the "animatronics are sentient and possessed by second consciousness" headcanon. Not all of them are bad, mind, you, but many of them eventually go the earlier route.

Why I hate this is because it's never a situation where we're being led to see the children as sympathetic, or corrupted by time, but a way to make the Missing Children less sympathetic to the audience. Or to raise drama by having a slew of ghosts who feel no sympathy and cannot be stopped.

Other versions show them as being especially bratty or excessively mischievous, which I just find a little annoying.

Funny enough, I don't think a child's soul going rogue is a bad idea. Such as in the case of Andrew, who I feel was massively underutilized. You can just tell when it is a pull to make the reader see in a specific direction. You can tell when there's a subconscious desire to make the murders seem 'not that bad'.

Also, the idea that the ghosts of dead children are evil because they're looking for justice for their deaths is kind of frustrating when so many headcanons try to excuse William's actions by suggesting that something traumatic triggered them.

Of course, in these cases the children are seldom actually looking for their murderer and instead are just circling around someone else.

...Oh yeah, and since we're on it-

2. William killed those children for revenge. (As a defense)

Specifically, when this is NOT used as a plotpoint, but instead used as a blame shield for William Afton. You can usually tell the difference by how the effect is cast on William.

If the tone is: William lost someone and then went on a kamikaze mission to ruin everyone's lives. Then typically it's fine.

If the tone is: William killed a lot of people- but he only did it because he lost his x! Then it gets frustrating.

It's the same boat as that Henry depression excuse, though it's worse in this case because William didn't just murder children, it's suggested that he hunted and tortured them, and then brought them back to continue making them suffer as animatronics.

3. William was a scientist.

Don't give him that much credit. This man didn't start doing science experiments until the plot got so elaborate that they needed to one-up him with himself.

4. Henry was a good father.

I absolutely loathe this one, because it hinges off of the novel's version of Henry, who actively abandoned one of his children to obsess on the other one. To the point of forcibly bringing them back without caring if the other existed- and then ditching that one too.

Sammy Emily does not exist to the FNAF fanbase. He's not a sympathetic character or an important character, he's just a plotpoint that's written out when it comes time for the big Shyamalan twist. He's pretty much totally ignored.

And by his father too. Henry never acknowledges Sammy, never cares about Sammy. He only cares about what happened to Charlie.

...But not enough to do anything about it.

Which is why I think a little acknowledgement that Henry wasn't great just because he died would go a long way. I won't even go into his more egregious actions.

5. Circus Baby's sexualization.

This is one actually backed by canon, but that doesn't make it any better. I hate the constant sexualization of Circus Baby... and especially the hypocrisy that surrounds it.

Let me give you one example of an event I had once.

When I was first writing CGHA and Mike and Mari got together, there were a lot of people who apparently missed the numerous references to the fact that Mari had aged in his many years as a puppet. This meant that Mari was now an adult, but they said since he died as a child that he is still a child. The word pedophilia was dropped a few times.

These are the SAME people who are all gung-ho about Baby dolled up in a sexy human body with skimpy skirts and long boots, dolled up by her daddy. But isn't SHE still a child?

Well, no... Because she's a bad girl, so she doesn't count.

Get off with that.

6: Vanny is in love with William Afton.

Unless we're talking Stockholm Syndrome, I don't think you're going to love a demonic entity possessing you and threatening to break your fingers if you do the wrong thing. I guess you can say that's abusive love, but like Joker and Harley Quinn, people somehow manage to forget that aspect.

I've gone into this before, so I'm not going to rant on it again. Largely because I don't know how FNAF will portray Vanny, and it's not above them to take inspiration from other sources.

Now, unlike some of these other headcanons, I THINK someone could actually write a story and make this work if they acknowledged that it was beyond "toxic". Vanny would have to be emotionally and mentally crippled to respond positively to such treatment, but it is possible if it was backed up with behavioral issues and a backstory.

You'd have to get on Silent Hill 2 levels of backstory, but it is possible if you want to go that dark.

---

I think I'll end it there for now. I know some of these might be hot takes, but I'm just voicing my thoughts here. Again, not saying anyone's wrong for holding these interpretations, but I think they should consider why they hold them.

Because it looks to me like these are used-

1: To make this Missing Children Incident less severe. 2: To make William Afton more sympathetic. 3: To make William Afton look cool. 4: To make Henry a martyr in contrast with William. 5: To have a forced femme fatal. 6: To underplay how gross the possession aspect- especially when it is a middle-aged man in complete control of a young woman's body and actions.

...But hey! That's just me. Rant over, for now. XD

[asfaltics]

attended to his letters; a course of reducing exercises

  or did you hear commentaries [     ] over the radio? I don’t have the time to do it. You don’t have time to do it.       1 and that, of course, you don’t have time to was taught the game       2   increasing the feed for / my dope, but you don’t have time       3 You don’t have time to investigate them fully yourself? No       4   It was hard work?   — Yes, sir. You have to be fast and do the best you can. You don’t have time       5 for nearly everything; you don’t have time       6   You don’t have time to bother about your neighbors, and you don’t       7 enjoy our own com . pany , as we never have any chance to see friends around home, for you don’t have time after and before       8   And in some cases wastefully?   — Not wastefully. Does not one involve the other?   — I don’t see it in that light. A man applies for relief. You don’t have time to see that man.       9 you don’t have time to spend one hour in thinking every day to see your business in a bigger, better, and cleaner way than it is today. [     ] desk covered with papers, unfinished business, no time to see       10   the “ticket” for large swamps. You don’t have time       11 You see, when you’re on the news end of a thing like this you don’t have time to get worked up.       12   “Well,” she said, “I suppose you are so busy at the office you don’t have time.       13 you are so terribly busy that I suppose you don’t have time to feel lonesome. Why can’t girls do something like that, too?       14   “How did you like it down there?” he asked. “Well” — she paused thoughtfully — “down there you can keep busy. There’s something to do all the time; you can keep so occupied that you don’t have time to stop and think and feel.”       15 you don’t have time to think of danger” But one foggy morning not long after...       16   today. always say you don’t have time to read. ward, like a girl       17 By the time he had days. When you’re busy you don’t have time to attended to his letters.       18   a course of reducing exercises, you don’t have time to think of that. I don’t believe I’m abnormal, perhaps I am, but       19 Well, I use two formulas; saying you “don’t have time” is part of the world of citation. Saying you “have time” is part of the world of translation. I think that the questioning typical of translation has always been absent in the plastic arts.       20  

sources   ( “you don’t have time,” all but two pre-1923 )

1 ex reporters’ transcript, April 20, 1959, The People of the State of California, Plaintiff, vs. Louis Estrada Moya, et al., Defendent, being part of the Transcript of Record, Supreme Court of the United States, October Term, 1960, No. 186, Luis Estrada Moya, Petitioner, vs. California on write of certiori to the Supreme Court of the State of California (petition filed June 9, 1960; granted June 27, 1960) : 200 aside — Google misdated this 1832; 1960 was outside of my search range. A well-known case (I was too young at the time to know it). Some sources : ◾ “A mother-in-law’s murder for hire scheme results in death penalty for all three participants” at vcdistrictattorney, in which this : “What made the case unique? The hired killers testified against Mrs. Duncan without commitment [that] the District Attorney would not seek the death penalty in exchange for their testimony... In fact, all three received the death penalty and were executed. Of course, today’s appellate courts would likely reverse a case in which a defense attorney failed to seek sentencing concessions in exchange for testimony.”   ◾ Arlene Martinez, “Love, scandal and murder: Ventura County case drew national attention,” VC Star (June 29, 2013)   ◾ Alice de Sturler review of Jim Barrett his definitive Ma Duncan at Defrosting Cold Cases (October 17, 2020)   ◾ Cecelia Rasmussen, “A Mother’s Love Was the Death of Her Daughter-in-Law,” Los Angeles Times (January 20, 2002; paywall)   ◾ Joan Renner, “Dead Woman Walking: Elizabeth Ann ‘Ma’ Duncan,” parts 1-4 (2013) at Deranged LA Crimes (True 20th Century tales of murder, mayhem, political corruption, and celebrity scandal) and, finally,   ◾ wikipedia 2 OCR cross-column misread, at Annie Eliot, “John Emerson Gaines’s Love Affairs,” The Manhattan 2:5 (November 1883) : 467-475 (468) snippet view only, opens to hathitrust. Annie Eliot Trumbull (1857–1949), author of novels, short stories, and plays; associated with Hartford, Connecticut’s “Golden Age”. wikipedia 3 OCR cross-column misread at H. E. Browing on “Pig Tails,” at The Swine World (Google titles it Poland China World) 5:2 (September 1917) : 11 4 ex Statement of William E. Johnson, chief special officer, United States Indian Affairs, before Committee on Indian Affairs, re: Senate Resolution No. 263 (Washington, 1910) : 367-400 (392) an intense exchange, on sale of alcohol on reservations. William E. “Pussyfoot” Johnson (1862-1945) was an energetic and resourceful prohibitionist and law enforcement officer. (wikipedia) 5 here, Julius Baum, examined by J. R. Lamar (January 29, 1896), in Contested Election Case of Thomas E. Watson Vs. J.C.C. Black, from the Tenth Congressional District of the State of Georgia, and published in/by the U.S. Congress, Committee on Elections (Washington, 1896) : 535 aside — an episode in the dismantling of Reconstruction institutions and Black suffrage.   ◾ Thomas E(dward). Watson (1856-1922) (wikipedia).   ◾ Watson is discussed in Jo Ann Whatley, her remarkable MA thesis Pike County Blacks : the spirit of populist revolt and White tolerance (1891-1896) as depicted in the Pike County Journal and other related sources (Atlanta University, 1984), available here   ◾ Watson was succeeded by James C(onquest). C(ross). Black (1842-1928) (wikipedia). “Black was declared the winner of the election but Watson charged that the vote was fraudulent. Black agreed to resign his seat just after the opening of the 54th Congress so that a new election could be held. In the October 1895 special election, Black prevailed over Watson again, and thus took his seat back to fill the vacancy caused by his own resignation.” J.C. C. Black entry, at Biographical Directory of the United States Congress 6 ex Investigation of Hazing at U. S. Military Academy, being “Testimony taken by the Select Committee of the House of Representatives appointed to investigate and report on the alleged hazing and resulting death of Oscar L. Booz, late a cadet at the Military Academy, and upon the subject of the practice of hazing at the said academy.” (1901) : 776 7 another contested election, here Mrs. Louise Roller under cross-examination by Mr. Goldsmith, in Scholl, Charles L. Vs. Bell, Henry A. Jefferson Circuit Court (Louisville, Kentucky), Chancery Branch: First Division, Chas. L. Scholl, Plaintiff Vs. Henry A. Bell, Defendant. No. 41519. / Second Division, Arthur Peter, Plaintiff Vs. Chas. A. Wilson, Defendant, No. 41524. : “Contested election cases heard together,” Transcript of Record, Volume 8 (10 volumes in 9) : 39 (snippet only, but in full at hathitrust) 8 ex report from Washington Division (by Cert. 9730), 23:5 (May 1906) [number/month uncertain, could be June] : 712 (opens to hathitrust; found via google snippet view) 9 ex the “Poplar Inquiry,” here an examination of Mr. P. G. Miles, Relieving Officer, in Transcript of Shorthand Notes taken at the Public Inquiry held by J. S. Davy, C.B., Chief General Inspector of the Local Government Board, “into the general conditions of the Poplar Union, its pauperism, and the admnistration of the guardians and their officers.” Presented to both Houses of Parliament... (London, 1906) : 141 On the Poplar workhouse, see workhouses.org.uk (scroll down (near bottom) to “The Poplar Union Scandal and Inquiry”).   ◾ Poplar is a district in East London (wikipedia) 10 ex E. Elmo Martin (Cleveland, Ohio), “How to hand the day’s work,” in National Lime Association Proceedings (Twentieth Annual Convention, Cleveland, Ohio; June 13-16, 1922) : 68-76 (73) (snippet view; full view at hathitrust) 11 ex H. Stimmons (Stark Co., Ohio), “More about coon hounds,” Hunter-trader-trapper 25:3 (December 1912) : 87-89 (88) (snippet view at Google, but full view at hathitrust, NW second paragraph) 12 ex Wayland Wells Williams (“author and artist,” 1888-1945), The Whirligig of Time (Frederick A. Stokes, 1916) : 335 Wayland Wells Williams papers at Yale YCAL MSS 551 13 ex T.I.M., “Dimpleton Stays at Home : A Story with a Real Moral,” in Life (July 25, 1907) : 155-158 (156) 14 snippet view only, at The Cactus (Austin, Texas; 1908) : 275 A journal “published by and for the students of the University of Texas”; 1907 and 1909 (but not 1908 alas) at hathitrust. 15 “down there” being Chicago, ex Henry Oyen (1883-1921), chapter 36 of “Big Flat,” in The Country Gentleman 84: (March 8, 1919) : 20, 22, 57-59 The novel was published in 1919, same passage at p 204 (NYPL copy)   ◾ Haven't located much information about Oyen; his published work is listed at his Online Books page 16 Homer Randall. Army Boys in the French Trenches Or, Hand to Hand Fighting with the Enemy (New York: George Sully & Company, 1918) : 199 Six “Army Boys” titles were produced by the Stratemeyer Syndicate 1918-1920, all under the pseudonym Homer Randall : Army Boys in France, Army Boys in the French Trenches, Army Boys on the Firing Line, Army Boys in the Big Drive, Army Boys Marching into Germany, and Army Boys on German Soil (stratemeyer.org)   ◾ The Stratemeyer Syndicate records (1832-1984; bulk 1905-1984) are at NYPL  ◾ See also Stratemeyer pseudonyms and series books : an annotated checklist of Stratemeyer and Stratemeyer Syndicate publications / compiled and edited by Deidre Johnson (1982); Deidre Johnson, Edward Stratemeyer and the Stratemeyer Syndicate (Twayne Publishers, 1993); and wikipedia 17 OCR cross-column misread at Harriet Winton Davis, “With the Children : Don’s Knitting,” in The Congregationalist and Advance (August 29, 1918) : 241 Other (not this) issues at hathitrust 18 OCR cross-column misread (extended here), ex H. D. Morgan, Ph. C., “The Kid,” in the section Original and Selected : From the best writers, and the leading drug, medical, chemical and scientific publications of the world, in Practical Druggist and Pharmaceutical Review of Reviews (November 1908) : 529-534 19 Frank R. Adams (1883-1963), “The Heart Pirate,” (illustrations by Charles D. Mitchell), in The Cosmopolitan 72:3 (March 1922) : 43-48, 117-118 (44) — snippet view, but opens at hathitrust More — “... yell for a diet and start doing a course of reducing exercises, you don’t have time to think of that. I don’t believe I’m abnormal, perhaps I am, but just since this afternoon I have come to the conclusion that if you want to put down crime you’ve got to suppress more than just alcohol — you’ve got to suppress the modern flapper. They’re so damnably desirable...” (It gets worse...). See wikipedia; author’s papers at Oregon 20 ex Giuseppe Caccavale : in giardino, a buon fresco (content by Laura Cherubini, Giuseppe Caccavale, Chiara Bertola and Claudia Gian Ferrari; Charta, 2009) : 77

Needed another line, and thought Samuel Beckett might provide. Search yielded no Beckett, but the above passage, fitting in its way and no more nor less ambiguous than anything else here. something recent — Giuseppe Caccavale « Projet Paul Celan », Residence Concordia, Parigi gennaio-ottobre 2020; testo e foto dell’artista. (1 February 2021)  

method

A friend reminded me, recently, that I don’t have time (for what is irrelevant here). Have been ruminating on (avoiding the consequences of) this, since. And thinking too about the place dimension of time, as discussed by Veronica O’Keane in her The Rag and Bone Shop : How we make memories and memories make us (2021) — “One’s sense of time is inseparable from events, but this is a sense of time. Might time have something to do with place cells?” (107) and “The whole concept of time is generally unhelpful in understanding science, be it physics or neuroscience... From the perspective of recording events, the present is consciousness. In a seemingly ironic twist, I myself think that the only place that time does not exist is in the moment of consciousness...” (113)

The encountered lines — all included above from my search in pre-1923 sources — have found their respective though non-chronological places in a kind of rocking, panning motion, in which sediments settle into their respective ripples / couplets.

Would, could, does this — sequence — work (whatever “work” means) without the anchorings / tetherings / bibliographic wastefull(ness; line 9 above) that follow it? They were needed in the making, anyway, and for there to be sufficient distraction for the making to sustain.

all subject to change.  

[e350tb]

The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Six)

Six

Luz and Camila have a much needed talk.

History doesn’t tell us much about Henry William Finch. The only remarkable thing that seems to have happened to him was his death. There is a record of Henry William Finch born in Barbados in 1661, but we don’t know if this is the same person. We can really only guess.

Although the courts claim Henry Finch was killed, we don’t actually know that either. All we know is that, over the course of a few days, Finch was struck by a peculiar ailment - his skin turned purple, his hair fell out, he was covered in boils, he vomited, his teeth rotted; it seems it was a pretty nasty illness. After two days, Finch died.

Now, just before his illness, Finch spoke to a woman whilst he fed the Wittesbane pigs. The magistrates believed that the woman handed Finch either some water or food - the record varies - and that this was deliberately poisoned. Hence ‘struck down whilst tending the pigs.’

So officially, the Henry Finch case was a murder.

Unofficially…

Now who was the woman? Well, her name was Margaret Hawthorne, aed 53; like Finch, she only really appears on the record because of her death. Before that, she had worked as a maid for the Wittesbanes for about three years. According to the official history of the Wittesbanes, published 1933, the family grew to suspect Hawthorne of ‘witchery’ after the ‘accelerated growth of vines’ around her quarters, which they believed she was using for spells. For John Philip, the poisoning of Henry Finch was just confirmation of what he’d suspected for some time.

So did Wittesbane pressure the magistrates to have Hawthorne killed for witchcraft? And if so, why would they not charge her for witchcraft, rather than murder?

We need to remember that the infamous Salem Witch Trials that colour our perception of ‘witchcraft’ in the late seventeenth century were something of an outlier. They met significant derision and backlash both within and beyond Salem. Most people no longer believed in witches, and it was around this time that Britain began charging supposed witches for fraud, rather than burning them as the devil’s servants.

Wittesbane may have believed that Gravesfield would face a backlash if Hawthrone were killed for witchcraft, but murder by poison was nowhere near as controversial.

There remain many questions, of course. Did Hawthrone really kill Finch, or was it just a peculiar illness? And if she did, why? Annoyingly, a lot of those files are in the Wittesbane family archives, and historians don’t get much access to them. But one day, I believe those files might be opened, and it may well be you who digs through them; maybe then we can put to rest a centuries-old murder mystery…

---------

“I never wanted to abandon you.”

Luz sat on the side of the bathtub, her leg shaking as she rocked gently back and forth. Camila sat across from her, trying to keep her face impassive. Her mind ran with questions, but for now, she knew she had to let Luz talk; to give her a chance to explain.

“I mean, part of it was really dumb,” admitted Luz, shrugging. “Training to become a witch? Of course I wanted to do that! It was a once in a lifetime opportunity! And nothing seemed really dangerous about it, and I thought, you know, maybe you’d never have to know! And for a long time it felt like I made the right choice! I guess I didn’t really think about how dangerous it was until…”

She looked down.

“...until the way out was closed, I guess.”

“And you never thought to come back and ask me?” asked Camila. “The door wasn’t far from our house…”

“...yeah, but you’d never believe me!” exclaimed Luz. “And even if you did, would you really have said yes to me going off to become a witch? To me living in a place called ‘the Boiling Isles?’ You’d just say I was letting myself get carried away again!”

“I…”

Camila looked down.

“...I wouldn’t have wanted you to get hurt,” she said, quietly.

Luz looked down at her feet.

“I know,” she replied.

She looked back up again, threading her fingers as she gazed at the roof.

“But it wasn’t just that!” she continued. “Everything I heard about camp was… it sounded like prison! And I know Vee liked it, but she was in actual prison so…”

“It was only to help you, Luz,” replied Camila.

“But that’s not how it felt!” exclaimed Luz. “I know I cause trouble, I know I can’t pay attention in school, I know I’m weird, but it just felt… argh! I felt like everyone wanted me to be a different person!”

She clutched her knees.

“On the Boiling Isles, everyone liked me for being myself,” she said. “I had friends! I wasn’t just a freak, you know? Or something…”

“You’re not a freak, Luz,” Camila interrupted.

“Oh, come on, mom! Everyone thought so!” Luz snapped. “Principal Hal did, my teachers did, the other kids did, everyone! And I just…”

“Principal Hal just wanted to help you,” replied Camila.

She cringed - only after saying that did she realise just how hollow that sounded. And she hadn’t even mentioned the other kids.

“Yeah, by making me someone else!” shouted Luz. “Just like the rest of them! ‘Oh, yeah, Emma shouldn’t have tripped you, but have you tried not standing out?’ ‘If you didn’t wear that hoodie, people wouldn’t laugh at you!’ ‘Oh Luuuuz, there’s only so much we can dooo!’”

“Luz, I…”

“I just get sick of feeling like everyone thinks I’m broken!”

The last words were shouted, and the acoustics of the bathroom amplified them. There was a sudden silence, save for the receding echo.

Camila blinked, staring at her daughter. Her words caught on her tongue.

“I… I don’t hate you, mom,” said Luz, looking at the floor. “I never wanted to run away. I just… don’t belong here, you know? And I belonged in the Boiling Isles.”

Camila glanced at the mirror, staring for some time. Her mind went back to meetings at school, long discussions with teachers and the principal after the latest ‘incident’. The sad expressions that didn’t meet their eyes, their countenances, the shrugging and tutting and shaking of heads - “We don’t approve of what the students did, but you have to understand…”

Maybe she’d understood a little too much.

On the other hand, they weren’t wrong - they could put all the protections in the world in place, all the rules and regulations, all the classes on ‘acceptance’ and ‘belonging’ - and it wouldn’t change how kids were. They were wonderful and terrible things, children; there was only so much a teacher could do to control them. She’d mentioned calling parents from time to time, and she’d always been assured they had been, so…

...but on the other other hand, Camila had never seen any other parents called to the school; never been asked to meet with them, to explain why their child’s behavior was not on. Maybe it was just easier to demand change of Luz than it was to demand change of the ‘normal’ kids.

Maybe there wasn’t a simple answer.

Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe, whatever the intentions of the teachers and the kids, whatever systems could or could not be put into place, it didn’t matter. Maybe all that mattered was what it had done to her daughter.

And that was beyond question.

“So,” she asked at last, “where do we go from here?”

“I guess we send Amity home,” replied Luz. “And then… I dunno, I go back to school, try and make things work?”

She looked her mother in the eye.

“I made a promise, mom,” she said. “I won’t go back.”

Camila inhaled.

“If you did make a portal,” she said, “one that could open whenever you liked, would…”

“Mom?”

Camila blinked slowly - she suddenly felt much older than she was.

“This school… Hexside? You do well there?” she said. “And you like it there?”

“...yeah?” replied Luz.

Camila nodded.

“I can’t promise anything,” she said at last. “I don’t even know if we can make this portal for Amity. But if we can, and we can keep it open…”

“Mom?”

“I’ll need to see Hexside,” she continued. “And meet the Principal… and this Eda lady you’ve been staying with. But… if it makes you happy…”

She was cut off as Luz shot forward, pulling her into a hug.

“Thank you, mami, thank you thank you thank you!”

Camila chuckled as she hugged her in return.

“I did say I couldn’t promise anything,” she reminded her weakly.

“I don’t care,” replied Luz. “You’re open to it! That’s all that matters right now.”

Camila felt a slight dampness on her shoulder.

“I love you mom,” said Luz. “I… I’ve wanted to tell you that for so long…”

Camila blinked a few tears, and hugged her tighter.

“I love you too, mija. I always have.”

[altr5312916195]

The Ghoul Boys' Pizza Party

“I can’t believe I let you dupe me into coming to a children's pizza place, Ryan. You really got me on this one.”

Shane told his partner as they stood outside of the abandoned building.

“Okay, yes it’s an odd place to be, but you know there’s been some stories since the opening of Freddy’s.”

“Oh, do tell.”

Shane said, feigning interest as they approached the doors.

“There’s legends of child murders, shady business and family affairs. A few of the restaurants went up in flames.”

Ryan explained. The pair walked up to the doors with the owner, and their crew behind them. The man unlocked the doors.

“Not this one though?”

“Not this one.”

Ryan confirmed as the man pushed the doors open.

“Have fun dudes, I’ll see you at six.” He chuckled.

He handed them pale blue button ups, a golden security badge sitting on top of the folded shirt.

“Great!

Let’s try not to die in a fire.”

Shane said, as he pulled on his shirt, fastening the badge to it.

“No promises.”

Ryan told him, being the first to step inside, buttoning his shirt.

“Oh look at the confidence!

The swagger ole’ Bergara has tonight.”

Shane chuckled as he walked behind.

The door clicked behind the crew as the owner locked them in for the night.

“I got a good feeling about this one.”

Ryan looked back at Shane with a smile.

“As in we’ll find some ghosts, or we’ll be ghoul free and you’ll go home and sleep well?”

“I’m not so sure yet.”

He noted, while dragging his hand across the damp wall. He found some light switches along the way and flicked them on. The overheads failed to power up, but the stage lights flickered on.

“Oh I truly hate that.”

Shane noted as the stage lit up, getting a good look at some tattered animatronics.

“Yeah that’s.. Not what you want to see.”

The Boys stepped to the edge of the stage, while the big three loomed over them.

“So tell me about the lore here. What are we looking at, I seem to recall child murder.”

Shane broke the silence.

“Yes! Lore..”

Ryan broke out of his trance and looked to Shane.

“Fredbear’s Family Diner opened in the early 70’s.”

“Oh they beat Chuck E?”

“Sure did.”

“The old cheese miser, they beat em to it.”

‘No one said they did a good job though.”

“Oh of course not..

Child murder isn’t good for the business,

Ryan c’mon! You should know that.”

“Hey, don’t jump ahead now hold on. So the little restaurant does well on it’s own for a time. It’s owned by one guy, guy decides it’s time to branch out.”

*chuckles* “Does guy have a name?”

“He does.”

*Gasp* “He does!”

“It’s Henry.”

“Henry, no last name?”

*laughs*

That is correct.”

“Oh that’s- *laughs* Wonderful.”

“Right so he teams up with this man.”

“Oh a partnership!

Does he have a name?”

“William Afton.”

“A last name too! What a lucky guy!”

*chuckles* “His full name is in the police report”

“But not Henry’s? He builds this business

From ground up and they don’t even give him

A proper name. What horse shit.”

“The disrespect is real.”

“It is!”

“It gets more real when you find out Afton’s

Pinned for henry’s daughter’s murder.”

*Laughs* “What? No you’re

Fucking with me.”

“Shane, I'm so serious.”

“Stop.”

“Honest to god.”

“That douche, that british douche!”

“Wha- *wheeze*

Why’s he a brit?”

“I just get the vibes.”

Ryan laughed it off, but continued on as they walked the table filled room.

“Freddy Fazbear’s opens about late 70’s right?”

“Things are going steady? No dead kids?”

“No dead kids, then!”

*chuckles* “Oh no..”

“See this is when Henry’s daughter goes missing.

Charlie.”

“That’s her name?”

“Charlette, yeah.”

“Oh okay, that douche Afton kills her.”

“Exactly, and hides her body

In one of the suits.”

“No!”

*nods* “Henry builds these things

And ole Afton thinks it’s a burial ground.”

“What a dick. That’s a new level

Of disrespect Ryan.”

“But wait! *laugs*

He kills five more kids.”

*laughs* “Ryan, that's not funny.”

“Shane, you're laughing too.”

“Well of course! Your delivery

Was so nonchalant.”

*laughs* “So five more kids.”

“Into the suits?”

“Yep.”

“Unrelated to Charlie?”

“Exactly.”

“But why?”

“He never told.”

“So he was taken in for this?”

“Then released because

They never found the bodies.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, and then after Henry..

Well he kills himself.”

“Henry did? Oh god..”

“Right, Afton takes the rights.

Opens a new Freddy’s.”

“That douche bag..

He’s evil Ryan.”

“Truly, it’s scary.

But he opens this place,

Circus Baby’s.

His own daughter dies by

His animatronic, Baby.”

“That’s Karma.”

“You’d think.

You know his son dies too.”

“Who let this man have kids?”

“His dead wife..”

“OH MY GOD” *laugs*

“How’d she die?”

*laugh* “I’ll give you two guesses.”

“Sweet Satan.

Man’s got the worst luck.”

“Well, yknow

Maybe don’t murder children for funsies.”

“Fair point.”

There was a metallic creek behind them as they walked the restaurant.

*soft chuckle*

“Oh no..”

“I-

I’m not turning around.”

*laughs* “Please do,

We’ll turn around together.”

*Deep breath*

“Okay.”

“One.”

“Two..”

“Three.” The boys turned to face the stage once again.

“Ryan the bear moved.”

“Freddy.”

“Oh, Mr Fazbear himself.”

“The big man..”

Freddy’s eyes glinted as they shifted to gaze at Shane and Ryan.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Shane.. There’s a child in there.”

“A real one?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Can’t be.”

“What?”

“I said what I said.”

“I- wha-

Alright, okay.”

“Can we sit, and finish the story?”

“You’re not scared?”

“No.”

Shane simply told him, and pulled out a dusty chair. Ryan sat next to him, and sighed. Though his eyes often darted between Shane, and Freddy.

“Fine..

So Afton has a few restaurants running.”

“Despite Henry killing himself.

Got it. Douche.”

“Well the first Freddy’s shuts down.

Not because of missing kids, but faulty walk around suits.”

“Faulty walk around suits,

What did a worker almost die

While handing out cake?”

Ryan starred at his partner silently. Shane laughed.

“They did?”

“That’s when they finally bring Afton in.”

“And then let him go?

Five kids, dead.

Business partner, dead

Worker, dead.

They let him go.”

“It’s insane, but yes.

So they shut the first Freddy’s down.”

“This one, right?

They rebuilt it in the 90s right?”

“Yeah, some things happened in between.

Five kids, spring lock accident, bite of 87’.”

“A kid bit someone?”

“An animatronic bit a security guard.”

“Oh.. Oh well that’s us tonight.”

Shane gestured to the pale blue shirt, gold badge shining in the dim light of their flashlights.

“That’s.. Foreboding.”

“Unfortunately, yeah.

You know they’ve gone through

Team of animatronics

After team of animatronics.

They finally decide to put it all to rest.”

“Everything closes down?”

“All of it.

Years later, Afton’s off the grid.”

“He’s dead?”

“That’s a theory.”

“A game theory, got it.

Now we’re here.”

“Right.”

“Let’s get hunting then.”

Shane stands up, and Ryan follows. He looks down at his watch.

“One thirty A.M.”

“Five more hours.”

Ryan sighs nervously. They move from the main dining hall into a hallway. The dim lights of the stage stay behind them. They turn into a new room, a small stage in the middle.

“Who’s that?”

Shane pointed to the red fur, and yellow eye that peaked at them behind a purple curtain.

“That would be Foxy.”

“The pirate.

Chica, Bonnie.”

“And a puppet.”

“Where is that one?”

“Storage.

Lot of people think Charlie is in that one.”

“Oh fun, gotta love living in a box forever.”

Shane walked to the tiny stage and reached out for the curtain.

“Dude! Stop what’s wrong with you?”

*chuckles* “C’mon it’s fine.”

He pulled back the curtain. A sharp creak rang out as the silver hook fell on Shane’s arm. He hissed in pain and pulled back.

“I fucking told you!”

“So the gears are loose, Ryan.

Shut up, I’m not dead.

Just give me a bandaid and an alcohol wipe.”

“We’re gonna need shots after this..”

“Oh please.”

Shane scoffed as one of the crew walked over and wiped at the cut with a small wipe, and slapped a bandaid over it.

“Good as new!”

Shane smiled, and thanked the crew member.

“Now, how bout a good ole spirit box?”

Ryan sighed, and pulled out the spirit box, setting it on one of the tables next to them.

“Alright Foxy, it’s gonna get a little loud in here.

Bet you’re used to it from all the screaming kids though.”

“Well he hasn’t been around em in a while.”

“It has been a bit.”

Ryan clicked the spirit box on. The loud shuffle of noise began as everyone listened in anticipation. Seconds passed and Ryan sighed again, disappointed.

“Nothing! C’mon Foxy boy, you got nothing to say?”

The room was quiet save for the radio channels shuffling.

Then something broke through.

“Save them.”

Ryan’s eyes widened as goosebumps hit his arms.

“No.”

*chuckles* “That.. that was the clearest thing

We’ve heard..”

Ryan looked at the tattered red fox and stepped back.

“Shane what the hell was that?”

The words “Save them” struck the cold air again.

Shane laughed, albeit nervously.

“The kids need help Ryan.”

“Shane stop.”

“Ryan they need you.”

“Shane it’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

Ryan picked up the spirit box, and turned it off. He quickly ducked back into the hallway.

“Oh come- Ryan come on.”

Shane followed him out. They continued down the corridor.

“Shane it’s not funny,

There’s kids in there.”

“You can’t believe that.”

“You don’t?”

Shane hesitated.

“No, I don’t.”

A dim light at the end of the hall led them to an office.

Computer screens lined the wall.

“I’m sorry I can’t find it

Easy to joke about these kids.”

“Ryan stop.. It’s fine. It’s what we do.”

They looked to the screens as they argued and Ryan stopped mid sentence.

“Chica’s gone.”

“What? No she’s no-”

On the main screen, the stage, there was only two animals up there. Freddy, and Bonnie.

A crash came from the kitchen.

“Is the whole team in the office?”

Ryan asked, and counted the members in the room. They were all there.

“Shut the doors.”

Shane fumbled for a door, there was none. Just a hole in the wall. He muttered in confusion as he hit the red button labeled door. A metal door came slamming shut.

“I don’t think that’s very safe.”

“But the animatronics outside are?”

“Pick your poison Ryan.”

“We are going to die here..”

“Oh stop! *laughs* We’re fine.”

“Shane I don’t think you understand!

So many people died here.

Kids, nightguards, shift managers. Families, Shane.”

“Ryan, it’s not true.”

Ryan shook his head, and turned to look back at the screens on the wall. Shane put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“Come on, Ryan..”

He laughed awkwardly, while Ryan shrugged his hand away.

One of the monitors glitched, coming back to show Foxy in a new position.

“It moved.”

“I see that..”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing, we watch them.

What time is it?”

“Three.”

Ryan sighed, and sunk into one of the roller chairs by the desk.

“Ryan what are we doing?”

“I don’t know! Okay?

We’re stuck here until dawn. Let’s just ride it out.”

Shane sat down next to him, and watched the computer screens. The main screen glitched as Bonnie moved off stage, leaving Freddy alone.

“Shane, why do you think they’re moving?”

“They’re programmed that way aren’t they?”

“You think they do that at Chuck E Cheese?”

“Well, yknow..

I don’t know. I’ve never been in this position.”

Ryan shuffled around again for the spirit box and clicked it on.

Shane groaned and flinched as the sound screeched through the small room.

“Oh you love to hate it..”

Shane joked as Ryan shushed him. Shane pouted and sighed, leaning back in the chair. More banging came from the kitchen.

“Let’s eat.”

“Ryan.. *laughs*

Ryan the chicken is gonna eat us.”

“Shane..”

“I’m sorry I can’t help it.”

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Ryan turned off the box to hear them better. Things went quiet until something slammed against the door. Ryan jumped back with a shout, and Shane pointed his flashlight towards the window.

In the window a purple shadow stood smiling.

“It’s Bonnie.”

“I see him, Shane.”

“What do we do?”

“Everyone stay still, maybe it’ll go away.”

They both spoke barely above a whisper. Minutes passed as the bunny stood unmoving. Humming echoed through the halls.

“Ryan..”

“I know.. I-i know.

What time-”

“Four.”

“This is our purgatory, Shane.

We’re done for.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic.”

After what felt like hours the hulking form finally turned to leave.

Ryan sighed in relief.

“See?”

“Don’t jinx it Shane.”

“I’m sorry.”

He went quiet, eyes falling back on the screens as they watched Bonnie roam the halls. Chica had found her way back to the stage, Foxy was unmoving.

“Why are they moving? What do they want with us?”

“Stop asking questions I don’t have answers to!”

Ryan huffed out. He looked down at his feet, the golden badge glinting in his eyes as a thought hit him.

“William always came in dressed as a guard.

That was his MO.”

“And we’re the guards. What if they’re

scared of us?”

Ryan looked at Shane, dumbfounded.

“What if they are scared of us?”

“One hour left.” Someone from the crew informed.

“We have to get back to the front doors.”

A soft beeping began to ring out. Shane looked around for the source. In the corner of on of the screens a small red battery flashed in time with the beeping.

“We’re losing power.”

“To what?”

Shane shrugged.

“We’re not going to make it.”

“We’re going to make it.”

Something slammed against the door, a dent being pressed into it.

“We don’t get paid enough for this!”

“It’s Foxy, that bitch!

“Shane, you'll make him angier!”

“Yeah? Well he can suck it!

That’s right!”

“They’re kids!”

“Oh please..”

Another slam rang out, as the beeping grew louder, more urgent.

“Five thirty.”

“Shane what do we do?”

“We’re going to get to that door.

He’ll go away soon.”

The banging grew louder, and Ryan moved to cover his ears. He shrank back in his chair, eyes shut.

Despite all this he heard something in the back of his mind as images flash in his head.

It’s me

“Shane!”

Shane stood up, standing between Ryan and the door. The banging stopped. The fox walked away. Ryan relaxed a bit. Until the power went out, and the door opened again.

“We’re going to run for it.”

“We cannot do that!”

“We can.”

Shane grabbed Ryan’s arm and booked it down the halls, dragging Ryan behind him. Foxy wasn’t far off on their steps in the hall.

“Ryan run faster!”

“I ca- I can’t!”

He choked out. His eyes were on the small crew behind them, worried of who may be left behind. Chica met them at the end of the hall as she stepped out from the kitchen. Shane narrowly avoided hitting her dead on and led them into the main room.

“Look there’s the door!”

Ryan laughed in pitiful fear, and small relief. Until Bonnie stopped them in their tracks.

“Oh god, oh fuck.”

Chica, and Foxy had the crew trapped, the doors barely out of reach. All of the voices grew louder around them. Ryan clutched his hands over his ears, his eyes shut tight. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, and Shane’s tight grip on him released.

“Shane?”

Ryan asked, refusing to open his eyes.

Shane looked at the animatronics as they circled the team. They were so close he couldn’t let it end like this. But he also couldn’t reveal himself. He panicked, his eyes began to turn a deep red as he looked around for another way out. But those kids, they wouldn’t get out of his head. They were so loud.

“OH JUST STOP IT”

He screamed, and they listened. The voices were silent, and Ryan opened his eyes. Shane grabbed his arm again and yanked him to the doors.

The owner opened them up just as Ryan and Shane made it back outside. Though Shane was prepared to barrel through the glass if necessary.

Ryan fell to his knees as they finally made it to the end, and laughed in morbid relief.

“Hey! You guys made it! Did ya have fun?” The owner smiled at them.

Shane helped Ryan up, and glared at the owner. He ripped the badge off his shirt, and slammed it against the man’s chest.

“We’re suing.”

[fictionkinfessions]

To Our Evan

I really wish I could’ve stopped what happened. I’m very sorry for the times I got short with you. That was uncalled for. I loved you dearly my sweet little boy.

To Our Elizabeth

I really should’ve watched you closer. I should’ve tried to build a baby for you and only you somehow. And kept the one for uh those purposes locked up. My darling little Angel. Oh what became of you was a tragedy.

To our Michael

I’m sorry I didn’t treat you as well as you deserved. I really should have talked things out with you more after what happened with Evan. You were just as traumatized as I was and I wish I’d realized that more than I did. You did good son. Very very good. I’m proud of you. You didn’t mean to do what you did when it comes to the bite.

To our Clara

I’m very sorry I didn’t tell you about what was going on in general sooner. Not just with Henry but just. Everything. I’m grateful I even had someone like you to love a man like me in the first place. You were far far too good for me. I didn’t deserve you.

I’ve apologized already to our Henry. But I’ll say I’m deeply sorry once more. I hurt you more than I can put into words. And you’re the one man who was the father of my crimes that I do truly regret hurting with my entire heart.

To our Henry’s Charlie.

I. I really don’t know why I did what I did to you of all the children out there. I may not like. Fully regret what I did to the other children(minus Elizabeth to an extent given she died to a machine of my own making) but I do truly regret killing you. Because you were the few I really don’t know what had even really happened after it did. And I should’ve realized how deeply it would’ve affected Henry before I even approached you with murderous intent. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. Not in the slightest.

None of you have to forgive me.

I certainly wouldn’t forgive me if I were any of you.

If anything. I’d still hate me for everything I did.

Every ounce of pain I caused you and everyone else.

I was truly a monster of a human being who deserved every ounce of suffering brought upon me when I put on that wretched suit. And everything after it as well.

I speak with regret. But not fully.

But enough to drive me mad enough to write this.

A partially remorseful William Afton

[myhauntedsalem]

The Last Words of 30 Famous Serial Killers

Some killers have offered sincere apologies for the heinous offenses they committed. Others’ final words were filled with anger and resentment, while some seemed indifferent. A few of the most interesting final words are quizzically strange rantings.

What are the last words of some of the most famous serial slayers? The last words on this list come from the mouths of some of the most heinous, dangerous people in human history.

James French

“Hey, fellas! How about this for a headline for tomorrow’s paper? ‘French Fries.'” (August 10, 1966)

James French has the distinction of being the last person to be executed in Oklahoma, via electric chair

Carl Panzram

“Hurry up, you Hoosier bastard. I could kill 10 men while you’re fooling around.” (September 5, 1930)

Peter Kurten

“Tell me. After my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from the stump of my neck? That would be a pleasure to end all pleasures.” (July 2, 1931)

Peter Kurten, AKA “The Vampire of Dusseldorf,” drank the blood of at least one person.

John Wayne Gacy

Kiss My Ass (May 10, 1994)

Thomas J. Grasso

“I did not get my Spaghetti O’s. I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.” (March 20, 1995)

Tom Ketchum

“I’ll be in Hell before you start breakfast, boys. Let her rip.” (April 26, 1901)

Jeffery Dahmer

“I don’t care if I live or die. Go ahead and kill me.” (Novemer 28, 1994)

H.H. Holmes

“Take your time. Don’t bungle it.” (May 7, 1896)

Dr. H.H. Holmes was one of the first American serial killers.

Albert Fish

“I don’t even know why I’m here.” (January 16, 1936)

In the 1920s, Albert Fish claimed that he had slain at least 100 children.

Ted Bundy

“I’d like you to give my love to my family and friends.” (January 24, 1989)

The exact number of women Ted Bundy offed or hurt in the 1970s is unknown, but some say the number is somewhere in the 100s.

Marcel Petiot

“Gentleman, I have one last piece of advice: Look away. This will not be pretty to see.” (May 25, 1946)

Petiot was a French doctor who was only found out when the remains of 23 people were found in his Parisian home during WW2.

Steven Timothy Judy

“I don’t hold any grudges. This is my doing. Sorry it happened.” (March 9, 1981)

Steven Judy slayed a woman and her three children in 1979.

William Bonin

“I would suggest that when a person has a thought of doing anything serious against the law, that before they did that they should go to a quiet place and think about it seriously.” (February 23, 1996)

William Bonin’s habit of dumping cadavers near freeways earned him the nickname Freeway Killer.

Amelia Dyer “I have nothing to say.” (June 10, 1896)

Dyer is believed to have slain 400 children during a 20-year period in Victorian England.

Peter Manuel “Turn up the radio and I’ll go quietly.” (July 11, 1958)

Manuel was an American-born Scottish man who is believed to have slain from nine to 18 people during the 1950s.

Francis Crowley “You sons of bitches. Give love to Mother.” (January 21, 1932)

Francis Crowley went on a three-month spree that ended when he was sent to the electric chair.

Angel Maturino Resendiz “I want to ask if it is in your heart to forgive me. You don’t have to. I know I allowed the Devil to rule my life. I just ask you to forgive me and ask the Lord to forgive me for allowing the devil to deceive me. I thank God for having patience in me. I don’t deserve to cause you pain. You do not deserve this. I deserve what I am getting.” (June 27, 2006)

Reséndiz left people’s cadavers near railroad tracks.

Fritz Haarmann “I repent, but I do not fear death.” (April 15, 1925)

Fritz Haarmann of Germany, active in the years following WWI, became known as the Vampire of Hanover because he would bite through people’s throats.

Ned Kelly “Such is life.” (November 11, 1880)

Ned Kelly was often considered a folk hero in Australia.

Donald Henry Gaskins “I’ll let my lawyers talk for me. I’m ready to go.” (September 6, 1991)

Donald Henry Gaskins was known as the Meanest Man in America for slaying at least 100 people, most of them hitchhikers, from the 1950s to the 1980s.

Israel Keyes “Okay, talk is over, words are placid and weak. Back it with action or it all comes off cheap. Watch close while I work now, feel the electric shock of my touch, open your trembling flower, or your petals I’ll crush.” (December 2, 2012)

Israel Keyes took his own life; the words are from his final note.

John George Haigh In a letter to his girlfriend, Barbara: “It is difficult to say farewell under these circumstances, but you will understand that you will always be in my thoughts. You know I have been proud of our association: it has always been an honourable one. I shall remember your great kindness and devotion. Now I must leave you.” (August 10, 1949)

In the 1940s, John George Haigh dissolved six women’s cadavers in acid.

Kenneth McDuff “I am ready to be released. Release me.” (November 17, 1998)

After his sentence was commuted in 1989, Kenneth McDuff killed again before being detained in 1992.

Carroll Cole “It’s all right.” (December 6, 1985)

Carroll Cole possibly committed acts of cannibalism

Raymond Fernandez and Martha Beck “I wanna shout it out; I love Martha! What do the public know about love?” – Raymond Fernandez (March 8, 1951)

“My story is a love story. But only those tortured by love can know what I mean […] Imprisonment in the Death House has only strengthened my feeling for Raymond….” – Martha Beck (March 8, 1951)

In the 1940s, Fernandez and Beck would place personal ads in newspapers with the intent of taking money from the women who replied.

Aileen Wuornos “I’d just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back like Independence Day, with Jesus, June 6th. Like the movie, big mother ship and all. I’ll be back.” (October 9, 2002)

From 1989 to 1990, Aileen Wuornos terminated seven men, with the excuse that each of them tried to rape her.

James Allen Red Dog “I’m going home, babe.” (October 9, 2002)

James Allen Red Dog had been connected to at least five murders

Myra Hindley According to the Catholic priest who gave Hindley last rites, “The last conversation she had before she died concerned her mother. She just expressed concern for her mother – but I will not say exactly what she said.” (November 15, 2002)

Hindley, with her lover Ian Brady, shocked 1960s England when they killed five children.

Earle Nelson “I am innocent. I stand innocent before God and man. I forgive those who have wronged me and ask forgiveness of those I have injured. God have mercy!” (January 13, 1928)

During a two-year period in the mid-1920s, Earle Nelson felled 22 women, most of whom were landladies he approached about rooms they wanted to rent.

Sean Flanagan “I love you.”

Sean Flanagan terminated two gay men in Nevada, claiming he was doing “good for… society.” (June 23, 1989)

[charlemange1]

Holding Out for a Hero (Frankenstein one-shot)

*Victor just returned from Ingolstadt. Now what does his family do with him? Sometimes caring too much is worse than not being there at all…*

A full moon enveloped the ballroom in shining silver, giving those sitting across from me the appearance of ghosts. From the way their shoulders slumped beneath the weight of life, they seemed more dead than alive.

“We appreciate you seeing our son back home, Monsieur Clerval.” Alphonse repositioned himself on the couch. “I only wish it were under happier circumstances.”

“I could not allow my friend to return alone after such tragic revelations, Monsieur Frankenstein.”

“Please, call me Alphonse.”

“Alphonse.” I echoed, my tongue fumbling with the word. I still wasn’t used to the informalities that came with adulthood. I wasn’t used to the little portrait of William hanging below the painting of Caroline, either. The surrounding candles made their painted eyes look alive, as though they too were part of this most miserable occasion. The ghosts of the dead eager to pass judgment on the living.

Elizabeth slipped into the room like a shadow, settling on the couch beside Alphonse and stroking his hunched shoulder. Ernest sat to their left, his eyes on the floor.

“I’ve put him to bed,” Elizabeth said. “Victor is exhausted, we shouldn’t worry about him wandering in on us.” The kind smile she held for Alphonse soured for me. “Henry, what has happened to Victor? He didn’t write for years, and when you visited him in Ingolstadt you wrote back that he was fine. Fine! The man—if you can call him that—who walked through our doors this morning is anything but!”

“What happened to William has unnerved him, that is all.” My voice faltered. I couldn’t say murdered.

“The news of William alone couldn’t wither a man like that,” Elizabeth paused as Ernest stood and walked to the window. With his back to us, he dragged a finger across the dusty sill. “Caroline’s death shadowed Victor when he left for university, but now it has consumed him. Grief must have been eating at him for years. You promised you would bring him back to us, Henry. How could you have let him fall to such a state? You were his friend!”

My fingers dug into my palms. My feelings for Victor extended far beyond simple acquaintances. She couldn’t understand how wretched his state had been on my arrival. Of the contents I had found in that horrid dorm. Who could explain those racks of rotting flesh seasoned with strange salts rising to the rafters? Sanity does not linger on a floor where bits of animal and man have liquified into mush carelessly tracked across alchemic symbols written in flaking blood!

To think that the son of the renowned Alphonse Frankenstein, fiancé to the fair Elizabeth, brother to sweet William—would be an accursed resurrection man! Our Victor—a graverobber!

I knew he wasn’t writing home, yet where was I while he grieved? I’d remained in Geneva, lost in my world of poets and prose while obeying father’s every order like a dog. I wasn’t fit to wear the crown of heroes in the plays I had forced Victor and Elizabeth to partake in as children—I was a coward. No amount of memorizing the escapades of Odysseus and scripting grand adventures would change that. It was all I could do to throw Victor’s instruments into the Danube before the authorities of Ingolstadt sniffed them out.

My silence to Elizabeth’s question was not to protect the grieving family from Victor’s sins, but to cover my own shame. Father, Victor, the noble Frankensteins, when would I stop disappointing the people I loved?

At least Victor had returned to the light. He had renounced his dark practices—whimpering in his sleep of imaginary monsters that haunted him. That history was buried, and I saw no need to dig it up again. So I held my silence as Elizabeth held my gaze with teary eyes.

“Accusations will not fix the past. What’s done is done,” Alphonse laid his hand over Elizabeths. “What matters now is protecting the son that still remains to me. Henry, you were with Victor at Ingolstadt. Would you consider him a harm to himself?”

“A harm?”

“Yes. He nearly collapsed when greeting us, and when he raved about knowing William’s killer his eyes were…wild. I have never seen such misguided certainty in any sane man.” Alphonse rocked in the chair. His knotted fingers pressed together to ease their shaking. “Henry, we, I—"

“Must I be the one to say it?” Ernest faced us from his place by the window. His eyes were cold chips of the moon behind him. “Henry, is Victor mad? Is it best to send him to the asylum before these fits of his are noticed by higher society?”

“Ernest,” Elizabeth croaked. “Do not say such things!”

“My apologies. I forgot Victor can do no wrong!” Ernest spat. Out of all of us, he had known Victor the least and William the closest. “My brother has been murdered and an innocent woman imprisoned for the crime! All this talk of Victor, Victor, Victor! He never wrote, he wasn’t here! He was never here—but Justine, little William, they were! Now they’re gone, and it’s still all about him!”

Silver tears spilled down Ernest’s cheeks. Elizabeth approached him as though the boy were a wounded animal. “Breathe Ernest, calm down.”

Ernest wrung his hands, turning away. Elizabeth stood still. I was mute.

“He wanted to play hide and seek,” Ernest said. “I let him run off and hide. I abandoned him.”

“You did all you could.”

“You didn’t find him sprawled on the grass,” Ernest’s voice was barely a whisper. “Those horrible bruises around his neck were inflicted by a force of evil. Pure evil! Justine could not have done such a thing. Not her. Not her!”

Ernest’s fingers clawed at his messy hair. Elizabeth yanked them down to his chest.

“Acting this way will not help Justine,” she said firmly. “We must present ourselves in court as sensible people if she is to stand a chance!”

Ernest raised his head, really seeing her for the first time.

"You owe that to your brother.”

“Yes, yes I supposed I do.” Ernest nodded. “I won’t let her be taken from me too.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth smiled, holding back tears. Her eyes flickered to the paintings of the dead. “We owe them that, William.”

“William?” Ernest ripped his hands from Elizabeth’s grasp. “ERNEST! MY NAME IS ERNEST!”

Elizabeth scrambled to correct herself. “No, Ernest, I didn’t mean—”

Ernest slammed the door behind him, cutting her off. The portraits of the dead swayed from the force. Had his yelling woken Victor? Would the noise send his weak mind into another fit?

“Ernest,” Alphonse called after his son, though his voice had lost the authority of a magistrate long ago.

“I will see to him,” I stood, tracing the route to Victor’s room in my mind. Backing toward the door, I added, “Victor is not mad. But his mind is…” my hand circled in the air. “Fragile. Like a budding flower. The Victor we love is there, he’s just not ready to emerge in full yet. We can cox him back out with time. Just, give, me, some, time!”

A handful of candles lit the hallway, and I jumped at the figure slumped against the outside wall. Victor flinched like a startled cat, his watery eyes lowering in shame like a dog. “Victor, you are supposed to be resting,” I whispered, glancing back to the open door where his family waited.

“Resting is all William can do now,” Victor’s voice rose and fell unsteadily. “As long as I live, I intend to act! The monster’s out there, plotting who he’ll take from me next. I know it, Henry!”

“Yes, Victor,” I smiled, stepping closer.

“You don’t believe that I did it,” Victor shook his head, his tangled locks falling over his eyes. “That I conquered death.”

“Indoor voices, Victor!”

“Out of everyone, you alone dared to imagine the impossible. You filled your head with tales of knights and grand adventures! I had thought you’d believe me. You saw my lab. My notes!”

“Those alchemical scribbles have never made sense to me, Victor. You know I’m but a humble poet.”

Pandering to his genius often evoked an eye-roll or a good-natured punch, but now Victor’s arms only trembled in his oversized nightshirt. When Alphonse had the garment purchased, he expected a confident intellectual well accustomed to German cuisine to wear it. The loose fabric made Victor look small, an underwhelming shell wrapped in expectations that didn’t fit. My arm wrapped around his boney shoulders, leading him down the hall toward his bed.

“Let me tell you a story, Victor. One we’d read as kids.”

“I do not need to be fed children’s stories,” Victor chided, stumbling despite my support. “William is the child! Was, he was a child…”

Victor pulled away. I feared where this was going.

“His blood is on that daemon's hands. I must tell the court the truth. They can raise an army. We’ll scour the mountains until that monster is destroyed!”

“Victor, you’re much too weak!” My mind raced. I’d have to appeal to him and play along. “Save your strength! If we are to destroy your ‘monster,’ it must be done the right way. With caution.”

“We?” A bit of life returned to Victor’s eyes.

“Yes!” I nodded, leading him forward. “But you mustn’t speak these things to another soul. They’ll claim insanity and lock you away!”

Victor didn’t look convinced. That stubbornness was what I loved and hated about him.

“If you are institutionalized, how can William be brought to justice. You need to be here, Victor.” Victor lowered his head, considering. “Promise me you won’t speak at Justine’s trial,” I pressed. “Elizabeth has memorized a speech to woo the judge if he leans toward a guilty verdict. You needn’t trouble yourself.”

“Yes,” Victor sighed. His head slumped on my shoulder in exhaustion. The air around us was filled with his shaky breathing. It felt like we were the only two in the house. In the world. “He shall not claim another soul. I won’t let him hurt you, Henry.”

I pulled his shivering body close to mine, away from life, from the pain that had reduced him to this state. “Of course, and I’ll protect you.”

For a moment, just a moment, a massive shadow fell on the moonlit tile. My head snapped to the window, but nothing was there. The shadow vanished. A passing cloud, no doubt. No mortal man could boast such massive size.

“Henry, do you still believe in your adventure stories?” Victor whispered suddenly. “Of Robin Hood and King Arthur? That good can vanquish evil? That we can win?”

Pulling away, I led Victor to his room and settled him into bed.

“We’re men now, Victor. It’s time we gave up such childish inclinations and lived in reality.”

I couldn’t waste time fantasizing about the impossible. To be the hero he needed—to rescue my friend from himself—I had to exist in the real world.