฿Ⱡł₦Đ ⱠØVɆ | William Afton x Reader

₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ 25

(TRIGGER WARNING - KNIVES, MANIPULATION - IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY EITHER OF THESE TOPICS PLEASE DO NOT READ)

     You fumbled with your keys in a panic, your hand already on the doorknob. 

     I need to get out before he comes home, you thought. What am I gonna do afterward? I don't even know if my house is ready for me yet! I guess I'll just call Rosie. Whatever! 

     You turned the key in the door before opening it, panicked. 

     He'll probably be looking for me. Is he going to kill me to keep me quiet? Oh my fucking God. You tried to push the thoughts to the back of your mind as you raced inside. 

     "Moving boxes, moving boxes," You mumbled frantically. 

     You knew it would be easier if you calmed yourself down, but you didn't have time to do so. You just wanted out. 

     You thought maybe you'd call the police tomorrow when you were sure your life wasn't in immediate danger, but you weren't sure if you could do so without flipping out. 

     You stumbled up the stairs in a hurry. 

     "What did I bring here... Switch. I brought that. I'll get it after I pack up my room." 

     Vincent really used to like playing video games with me. You commented inwardly, pushing into your room. 

     What could you grab first? Luckily, you had kept all of your moving boxes in your room because you knew you'd need them later. 

     You grabbed one and started shoving clothes and makeup inside without any other thoughts.

     Oh my God, shit, shit, shit, shit... You couldn't think straight. 

     Eventually, though, you got your room packed up to the best of your ability, and went to grab whatever was downstairs. 

     You attempted to get everything in time - the only problem was that you didn't know when your time was up, and didn't intend to find out. 

     You made sure there was nothing left in the living room before turning to go back upstairs. 

     It was a stupid thought, but you wondered if you left anything in Vincent's room. You dreaded going up there, but felt like you had to for some reason. 

     Carefully, quietly, you opened his door. 

     Fuck. I hate this. 

     You tried not to look at the one thing which seemed to be looking at you, if that was possible, while walking in. 

     I've only been here like once. I don't think I left anything. So, I can just leave, right? You took a short step backward, but hesitated. 

     You wanted to look. It was getting hard not to. 

     Just leave. Just step out. You're wasting time. 

     But the enticing gleam of moonlight on the blades was too much, so finally, you turned your attention to the knives. 

     You felt an odd sense of dread as you did so. You had seen them before, but that was before you knew what Vincent had done. 

     You felt sick to your stomach, but refrained from throwing up again. Instead, you took a hesitant step towards the shelf. 

     Which one...? Your gaze wandered over each intimidating blade until you finally saw a certain pale one.