฿Ⱡł₦Đ ⱠØVɆ | William Afton x Reader

₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ 31

     Was Jack backstage, perhaps? There was no way of knowing. 

     You tried to be silent as you hovered around the wooden platform. He couldn't hide from you in your own workplace, right? 

     Suddenly, you noticed a dim light behind the curtain. 

     "Hm..." You breathed, reaching out to pull it back. Time seemed to slow down as your fingers stretched out to take hold of the heavy fabric. 

     You knew he was hiding there. You knew his time was up. 

     Suddenly, you pulled it back - to get kicked in the face. 

     "Shit!" You screamed, reaching your hands up to touch your now bloody nose. You didn't have time to do so, though. 

     Jack stumbled backward in panic, dropping your phone on the wood. The dim light spun around the dusty stage. 

     Luckily for you, your little brother had cornered himself. You lifted yourself onto the stage, wiping crimson off of your face as you crept toward him. 

     "P- please don't hurt me!" He gasped, glancing back to try to find any kind of defense. He turned back empty-handed. 

     "If you know what Vincent did, then you know he's a bad person!" Jack tried to convince you in a panic. 

     You shook your head, trying to stay strong as tears welled up in your eyes. 

     "It's not that simple," You whispered. You were blood bound to do anything for him. You were in love with him. You were in too far.

     Jack whimpered. 

     "Please, Y/N!" He gasped as you pinned him down on the dusty stage. "We can just wait for the cops together! We can get that murderer behind bars!" 

     His voice drilled into your brain. 

     "No. We can't. I'm sorry. I just can't." 

     "Please!" You could tell your little brother's voice was going hoarse from the begging. 

     "You're good, right?" He tried. "I know you're good! You're my sister! He's a killer, please wake up!" 

     You tightened your grip on his shoulders. He was getting in your head. 

     "Shut up," You begged, tears starting to fall. "I can't!" 

     "But you can, Y/N! Please! We can escape!" 

     "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" You yelped. 

     You just wanted him to stop. You wanted him to be silent. You would never be able to think in conditions like these.

     Suddenly, a weight in your pocket became very noticeable to you. You froze, remembering what you had absent-mindedly put there before slipping out the door earlier that night.

     Do it. That wasn't your voice. Those couldn't be your thoughts. You stayed in place. 

     Do it! You slowly lifted one of your hands toward your coat pocket, trembling. Faster! Do it!

     "No..." You whispered. 

     But your hand wouldn't stop. You couldn't stop yourself. 

     You felt Jack squirm underneath you as your fingers neared the cold trinket veiled in warm fabric. 

     "Let me up! Let me go! Y/N!" He screamed. 

     You could barely hear him, though. Your hands met cold bone, and slowly, you wrapped your fingers around the jaw. 

     Shut up, shut up, shut up... The voice repeated. Make him shut up! 

     You guessed it was your voice, in a way, but it sounded demented, deranged. You lifted the knife out of your pocket. Jack gasped out. 

     "Please!" You were unsteady. "Y/N, no! Don't kill me for Vincent's sake!" 

     You trembled, trying to keep a steady grip on the knife as you poised it to stab. 

     "It's not that easy!" You begged, your voice brittle. "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be!" 

     "Don't do it!" He struggled against your grip. 

     "I have to! I made a blood pact! You think I wanted this?!" 

     "I'm sorry!" He yelped, much to your surprise. "I'm sorry, is that what you wanted me to say?! I'm sorry I'm so annoying! I'm sorry I drag you everywhere and boss you around! I know you don't like me! I know I'm just your kid brother! But please! I want to live!" 

     You wished desperately that you could plug your ears, but you couldn't. You shook your head, terrified. 

     "I'm sorry..." You whimpered. 

     "I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to d..." He trailed off as he stared at the gleam of light on your knife. 

     You were so far gone that you didn't notice just then, but something about his expression changed. It had been desperate, panicked, horrified, but when it changed... it was just... empty. Like he knew there was nothing left for him. 

     So, almost in slow motion, as you yanked the blade down, he coughed up some last words in a desperate attempt. 

     "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza." 

     Your mind went blank as crimson sprayed all over your clothes and skin. You were soaked in blood. You felt the stickiness everywhere - on your face, your neck, your hands, your shirt. You blinked. 

     Jack was dead. You had just murdered your little brother. 

     Suddenly, you collapsed. You stumbled over until you were sitting on the stage next to Foxy, mind blank. 

     A gentle hand touched your back. It was Vincent, seemingly sympathetic. 

     You stared down at the dim light coming from your phone as the man cooed into your ear.

     "You're ok... It's ok..." He trailed off a bit to press his lips gently to your jawline. 

     You knew he was trying to comfort you, but it didn't seem very comforting at all. You felt numb. 

     "Vincent..." You muttered, attempting to come back to your senses as you stared at the screen.

     "Shh, you don't have to say anything." 

     "No... No, Vincent..." 

     He paused and pulled away. 

     "...What?" 

     A gap of silence grew between you as you lifted your shaky hand to point at your phone. You felt Vincent tense up behind you as you both realized there was a muffled voice speaking.

     "Freddy's? We're sending a team over right now. Hello? Hello...?"