15 - Escape (Finale)

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Silence fell between Michael and me as he drove to the pizzeria. It was finally the fifth night. It took a while for me to comprehend our situation, as well as the fact that I'd slept with an animatronic but our plan was set. To free the lost souls who longed to bask in the proper rest of the afterlife. My mind felt hazy wondering how the murderer would react to my switch up. Knowing I was with his son ready to kill him.
Though, as odd as it was, given our previous encounters, I felt nothing toward him. No romantic interest nor love of any sort. Nothing but fear of the tragedies he'd committed and suppressed courage that urged me to behave strangely.
As Michael pulled into the dead parking lot, I felt my teeth clench nervously. Three gallons of gasoline with a handful of matches were tucked in the backseat of his truck.
"You ready?"
I nodded. With a click unbuckling his seatbelt, he leaned over to grab a gallon and exited the vehicle. I swiftly mirrored his movements as I followed after him toward the archaic pizzeria. Michael wasted no time in slamming his foot through the tinted glass panels that decorated the door. Giving a few kicks, he didn't halt until it shattered before us.
"I had a key you know.." I rolled my eyes watching how he scoffed at me. Forcing ourselves in with the gallons of gasoline, I obeyed as he directed me on where to pour.
Like idiots, we split up. He toward the farther back and I near the closest exit. He insisted on doing so in case something were to go wrong forcing him to stay and me to go on. It was suicidal in his case but I soon realized arguing with him was like talking to a wall. He'd made up his mind. Dug his grave, as one would say.

There was not a sight of Springtrap, at least not yet. Tracing my fingers on the bumpy exterior of the walls, I sighed sadly. Though adrenaline pumped through me with the thrill of burning the pizzeria down, I also felt fear if I were to get
caught. The tense air around me was intertwined with pure melancholy for the memories I had here. How my first night went when Michael trained me, or how (N/N) snuck in. It would have a special place in my heart even if this place was tainted with sinister stories.

"(Y/N)! You done?" A shout from the end of the corridor grasped my attention as I noticed Michael waving his hand, the other occupied with a thick gallon of gasoline that seemed to weigh his figure down a bit.
"Yeah, get the matches, let's burn this shit down," I called back, stiffening as I felt a metallic hand firmly place itself upon my lower back.

"Matches?" A voice rasped and as I turned back I felt my heart clench to witness the animatronic gawking upon us, "Well, well. My dear, (Y/N), I see you've fulfilled my request." Springtrap purred, seeming pleased as he gained our attention.
"Request?" Michael spat, suddenly turning to face me, "What the fuck is he going on about? We made a deal, (Y/N)!"
"Oh? Did (Y/N) not inform you? Perhaps they were occupied with thoughts of me. Their poor little cunt throbbing with how I penetrated them as punishment for the delay in your arrival." I kept quiet unsure of what I could even say. I felt exposed in more ways than one but there was no chance of defending myself. In attempting to justify my long-overdue actions.
"(Y/N).." Michael was for a loss of words. His jaw slacked as he processed what the animatronic had stated.
"Well, what a twist. It seems (Y/N) has made a variety of promises they could not keep up with," He chuckled darkly, "Such a shame. I was beginning to like you. I enjoyed our time together but I suppose I'll have to cut it short."
"Piss off!" I shouted, brain swarming with accumulating thoughts. So focused on what this shitty job brought me, I lacked to understand how it truly affected me. How every night spent here irked and altered how I behaved. When was the last time I called my mom? Why had I barely begun to yell at (N/N) when I never did so before? As these realizations hit me, I neglected them. The very idea of fulfilling contradicting actions to those I love hurt me more than the times he'd hit me. The throbbing of my heart accompanied by the ringing adrenaline pumping through my veins from the presence of Springtrap—Or in this case, William—was enough to block out my unanswered questions.

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