The Man Behind the Slaughter (FNAF)

Chapter 3

His mother was ecstatic when he began talking more. He didn't usually talk much around her, only Nicole. That night, he lay in bed, tossing and turning, one of his nightmares was keeping him from falling into a deep sleep. His dark mind was creeping up on him in the shadows...

"What's wrong with you?" One of the kids taunted him, grinning with malice. His beady eyes looked like a rats in the sunlight as he grabbed Vincent by the shirt. "Are you gonna fight back?" He roughly shoved Vincent to the ground. He was now in middle school. He was twelve years of age and was already running into issues with his schoolmates. He didn't fight back though, he let the group of boys shower him in punches. Occasionally he would shy away, but that only made them angrier. Nicole suddenly came to his rescue and moved herself between him and Joe, the leader of the group of goons.
"Back off." Nicole growled, helping Vincent to his feet.
"You got lucky this time, twerp. Your little girlfriend was here to save you." Joe sneered. The rest of his crew obediently snickered until Joe silenced them. "Let's go. We have other needs to pummel."
When they left, Nicole scowled at their disappearing figures before helping Vincent to his shaky feet. "You okay?"
"Y-yea." His voice quivered. Embarrassed, he looked down at his feet. "Thanks." He said, a little bit stronger.
She smiled at him and pulled him towards the bus. The afternoon sun warned their skin as they climbed the stairs into the yellow machine. Vincent slid to the inside, near the window and Nicole scooted in beside him. She began talking about a new movie that was coming out and he turned away to look out the window. As much as he loved his friend, he was in no mood to hear her babble about some chick flick. He nodded every once in a while to assure her he was listening to her describe the movie, but he hadn't understood a word she'd said. He was distracted. Why was he so weak? Why did they puck on him? Why couldn't he defend himself? He balled his fists up and clenched his jaw in frustration. He wanted to hurt something.. Someone. He wanted to feel the satisfaction of burying his fist in Joe's pudgy face. He suddenly came back to reality and saw Nicole staring at him, bewildered.
"What?" He asked, unchlencing his fist awkwardly.
"You.. You looked really mad..." She whispered, almost scared.
He immediately felt awful and smiled, trying to reassure her. "Just had a moment."
Yea. A moment. His mind cackled. You were thinking about hurting someone. You scared your friend. It taunted. Since the year before, his thoughts were becoming more troubling and people were starting to notice.
Still looking at him quizzically, she shrugged and sat back, closing her eyes. He bit down in his lip and winced. He had drawn blood. He reached up to wipe it away before Nicole noticed and the Crimson liquid stained his forefinger. He examined it and raised a dark eyebrow. The sight of blood didn't bother him. It soothes him.