Another Five Nights

Nightmare Mode

"Mike? MIKE!? MICHAEL!"

"What the--? WHAT!?"

"Come downstairs! Right this instant!"

"Alright, alright! Jeez!"

I rushed down as quickly as my legs could carry me, only to be greeted by my father's stern, cold expression.

"You needed something, Father?"

"Yes, son. I wanted to ask you something."

His evasiveness was both annoying and somewhat intimidating.

"Yes, Father?"

He gave me a look of what could have been either rage or nonchalance. It was hard to tell with my father. His facial expressions have always been unreliable, but today, it seemed even more so.

He narrowed his eyes at me as he bent lower to bring himself to my height. I am not a short man, but the grandeur of his presence always made me feel small... more than ever at this moment.

I would have asked him to hurry on with whatever he wanted to ask me, but I couldn't bring myself to. The intensity of his glare somewhat paralyzed me.

"Michael... answer me this... was it worth it?"

"W-was what worth it?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I really don't..."

His eyebrows furrowed and I could see him gritting his teeth. Yep. He was angry. He was definitely angry, and I was not in his good books at that moment.

"I mean," he continued, "Tormenting the ones you love for a laugh or two. Was it really worth it, Michael?"

My chest felt heavy as I gulped down my fear and looked him in the eye.

"I'm sorry."

I realized that my "apology" sounded far too bold and forced to be genuine, even if it was. Even if I truly do regret everything I did every moment of every waking hour.

Before I could retry my apology, I saw fury flickering in my father's eyes... more horrifying than anything I'd ever seen before.

"Oh, are you now? And tell me, what does that change. Michael?"

I stared at him in silence... Really, what did apologies change?

"Answer me, boy. What. Does. That. Change?"

I yelped as I felt a freezing cold piece of metal touch my cheek.

"I'm waiting."

Father's glare softened a bit, being replaced by a spine-chilling grin... one that did not suit him at all... yet fit so eerily perfectly...

The metal sunk deeper into my cheek; a knife, dangerously close to penetrating my skin.

I couldn't move or speak... I felt so useless... terrified... small and defenseless... worthless... cowardly...

Who's the crybaby now, huh?

I jolted myself awake, clutching the armrest of my chair so tightly that my fingers should have fallen off.

I found myself contorted in the most impossible, awkward angle humanely possible, with my cheek against a metal armrest and one of my legs swung over the backrest. Thank God my shift hadn't ended yet. The last thing I needed was for someone to come in, find me fast asleep in that queer manner and get me fired for sleeping on the job.

I heard the gonging of the pre-recorded bells followed by the laughter and cheers of children who have long since abandoned the pizzeria. My shift was over, and I was free to go.

I just had to do one thing before I left...