The sky was a deep blue, almost as dark as a shadow. Stars littered the dark void, though some were twinkling brighter than others as they shone above the town below. A dim neighborhood quietly stood tall in the brisk Night, the streetlights barely illuminating the street around them. Few buildings had their lights on - inside and out; Although, that didn't stop a figure from walking to a small - yet, comfortable - house, quietly unlocking the door as they hung their head low. The front door slowly opened, revealing a - heavily cloaked - tall figure walk into the living room, holding a plastic bag in one hand as the doorknob stayed in the other. The figure briskly closed the door behind them, quickly locking it before taking off their hood. Their black hair was mangled, some chunks missing entirely as their skin revealed Purple rotting flesh from underneath. The figure took a deep breath, quietly observing their home with their Deep Blues that seemed sunken into their skull. Standing in front of the door, the figure could see a comfortable couch to their right, the cream color seemingly appeasing in the warm house. A walkway to the kitchen was to the left, the room looking - almost - as white as snow, though the figure knew they wouldn't need to use it as often anymore. Looking forward lead to a stairway going up to the bed and bath rooms, though beside the flight of stairs was a door to the dark basement that the figure seemingly hated, a tinge of annoyance rising to their throat. The figure carefully hummed as they walked forward, their voice sounding hoarse from the lack of use before a light tickle drafted their throat, causing them to clear said throat. "Ennard! I brought the exotic butters home!" The figure coolly called, still clutching the heavy bag to their side. The house seemed quiet after their call, though the sudden feeling of eyes boring into the figure's skull gave a different indication. The figure rose an annoyed brow, quickly turning towards the ceiling as they heard the bag beside them swish to the side. 'Why do they keep doing this...?' The figure agitatedly thought, though kept the thought in place as they cleared their throat again, which tasted metallic - unlike the cough before. "Why not take a picture? It'll last longer." The figure agitatedly spoke, continuing their sharp gaze towards the ceiling. The square panels were as white as clouds, not an ounce of a stain showing, even after the hand that crept from within slowly crawled out. The hand moved a panel, quickly sliding out of the space before landing in front of the purple figure, their Bluish Green eye turned cold. The figure stood six feet tall, the cold metal face appearing just as white as the ceiling from before. Metallic wires ran everywhere on the figure, showing wired arms, legs, and ribs seemingly without a care. Eyes barely appeared on other parts of the figure, though their most prominent eye stared back at the purple figure before them, now an unreadable emotion showing.
Before either could commute, the metallic creature quickly swiped the bag from the other, almost ready to jump back into the ceiling from before. 'It took him long enough...' 'I was wondering when Eggs would come back with my exotic butters...' The creature coldly thought, though all movement stopped, once the rotting figure behind them coughed. Facing one another again, the creature watched 'Eggs' tap a foot on the ground, his arms crossed before his injured torso with agitation clear in his Deep Blues that stared back at them. "Aren't you forgetting to say something before you go, Ennard...?" The figure coldly asked, his stance only straightening once Ennard stood closer to him. Ennard shot a short glare before - what could sound like - a huff escaped their voice box, giving 'Eggs' a neutral look. "Thank you, Eggs..." Ennard quietly called, watching as 'Eggs' agitated look softened, to a degree. "Good, but my name is Michael." Michael coolly countered, watching Ennard roll their several eyes before reaching the ceiling. "Whatever, Michael Eggs." Ennard quietly drawled before climbing into the ceiling, letting the panel from before close behind them. Michael looked up for a moment longer before a deep sigh escaped his chapped lips, his head quickly hanging low to the growing silence. 'God, why did I bring them here with me...?' 'I could have stayed here, while they ran elsewhere like they wanted.' 'It's not like I could get them out of me before - or after - the incident weeks ago...' Michael cupped his face in his hands, a loud groan gargling in his throat. 'This pisses me off, but there's nothing for me to do about it, anymore.' 'What's done is done.' Michael wisely thought, though that wisdom turned to agitation at remembering the creature's attitude, feeling familiarity with it. 'Ugh, Why do they act like this, to begin with...?' 'I swear, they remind me of me when C.C-' Michael quickly froze, a muttered gasp escaping his throat. Michael carefully covered his mouth, his Deep Blues filled with shock and horror as he - unwilling - replayed his memories of the young boy from years ago. Each memory appearing just as clear as they did years prior, though the last memory before the funeral had - still - struck so many nerves, only reminding him of how - truly - cruel he was to people. 'C.C...' Michael cautiously thought before he swallowed the heavy lump in his throat, grabbing at his shirt for comfort. 'Maybe this is my karma...' Michael nervously thought, a dark cloud growing in his groggy mind as a sniffle was heard. 'Maybe he'll never forgive me, and I deserve this for tormenting him the way I did...' Michael thought again before he took a shaky breath, quietly turning towards the dim stairway. 'I miss C.C and Elizabeth...' 'Mom and Dad...' 'Uncle Henry and Charlie...' Michael shakily sighed as he walked towards the stairs, his groggily mind growing darker to the cold memories from before. 'Maybe some sleep will help with something...' 'I just wish I could forget everything with sleep...' Michael sorrowfully thought as he climbed the stairs, seemingly unaware of the eyes still boring into him as he left.
Ennard watched Michael climb the creaking stairs, a somber limp guiding the rotting man to his 'bedroom' from beneath their steady gaze. Ennard laid in the ceiling close to the stairs, though seemingly conflicted as their several eyes changed to different emotions, neither of which matching the others. 'Why would he think he can't be forgiven...?' 'What did he do that was so bad...?' Ennard quizzically thought, emotions of confusion and unease - finally together - rising to their systems. Ennard tilted their head before quickly shaking it, looking around the - now dim - room below them. 'It shouldn't matter to me, either way.' 'I just hope these "mental-links" disconnect soon.' 'Did the scooping room always do that, or is it because Michael was a human host...?' Ennard quizzically thought, their mind still boggling from the 'power' that the scooping room gave. Ennard agitatedly clicked a few times before holding the butters closer to their chest, gently caressing the papery packaging. 'Can Michael read my mind...?' Ennard cautiously thought, though his memories didn't seem to connect to that question. 'If he could, then why hasn't he answered any of my questions, yet...?' Ennard skeptically thought, their confusion now firm in their systems. Ennard huffed again, quietly burrowing into the ceiling as their systems began to shut down, a hollow feeling soon rising. 'Maybe he can't hear my thoughts...' Ennard slowly thought as their eyes quietly dimmed, though that didn't seem to matter to Ennard. They thought of a smile forming on their face, one that gave pure amusement to them. 'Humans are so strange...'
The Next Day ~
'Scratch' 'Scratch' Michael looked down as he carefully swept the - somehow continuously - dirty floor, a dark haze filling his Deep Blues as he couldn't sleep the Night prior. 'Why did I have to think of C.C again...?' 'This happens every time I do...!' 'Why can't I just forget about everyone already...?!' Michael painfully thought, though he bared no emotion on his rotting face, the color seemingly darkening as his thoughts continued. 'I should've been a better brother...' 'Maybe - if I had - then none of this would've happened!' 'Why couldn't I see that, back then...?' Michael mournfully thought, though seemingly unaware of the 'ceiling monster' above him. Ennard quickly slid down their arm, carefully landing on the wooden floor beneath them. Returning the panel, Ennard looked to Michael, whom remained emotionless in the living room as he used a weird stick with hair on the floor. 'He's really got to stay out of his head...' 'Now he's using weird hairy sticks for whatever reason...!' Ennard nervously thought before calmly sighing with a step forward, still unbeknownst to their target. "Michael, what are you doing?" Ennard calmly asked, though they noticed agitation quickly rise from the rotting man, who was still deep in thought. "Obviously cleaning." Michael agitatedly spoke, though paused from the tone. Carefully looking to Ennard, he bit his lip towards the metallic creature, which bared no emotion. Michael sighed as his shoulders slouched, giving him a break from his stressed stance prior. "Sorry, Ennard..." Michael carefully chirped, watching the animatronic before him. Ennard remained quiet, though agitation didn't seem to be anywhere on them. They slowly nodded before pointing towards the broom, causing Michael to raise a brow. "Could I try?" Ennard quizzically asked, some interest sparking in the bot before the man. Michael tilted his head before glancing to the broom. 'Is he serious...?' Michael quizzically thought before carefully sighing, passing the broom to Ennard, whom seemed pleased with the movement. "Sure, just don't whack yourself with it. I already did that." Michael casually spoke, watching Ennard hold the broom with their bare, metal hands. Ennard tilted their head to Michael before lifting the broom, carefully smacking the floor with the hairs at the end. 'What did he mean by that...?' 'You can use this as a weapon - as well as - cleaning something...?' Ennard quizzically thought before rolling the hairs of the broom on the floor, going in a circular motion. Looking up, Ennard could see Michael biting his chapped lip, seemingly stifling a laugh at the scene before him. Ennard looked back down, swiftly turning the broom on its' head before doing the motion again, creating a loud scratching sound. This time, Michael had begun to laugh louder, holding his chest as Ennard watched in confusion. 'Is this supposed to be funny?' Ennard quizzically thought before holding the broom to their chest, feeling a tinge of joy from the laughter. "Ennard, that's not how you sweep...!" Michael playfully chirped as he quieted down, though that only raised more questions for the animatronic. "Sweep? What's that?" Ennard quizzically asked, still holding the broom to their chest as Michael stepped forward, being careful not to move the dirt piles around them.
"You have to use the hairs on the broom to brush - or 'sweep' - the dirt into a pile." Michael coolly stated, watching Ennard look between him and the broom. "oh." Ennard calmly muttered before flipping the broom again as they placed the hairs on the floor. Seeing a patch of dirt, Ennard moved the hairs behind the patch, carefully 'sweeping' the patch into a neat pile before them. Michael happily nodded, a hum escaping his smiling lips as they continued the chore. "You're doing great, Ennard! Get as much as you can, so you can sweep it up after." Michael proudly spoke, carefully grabbing the dustpan behind the animatronic. Ennard stood straight as they finished, though tilted their head as Michael placed the pan by the pile they made. "'Sweep it up'? What does that mean?" Ennard quizzically asked, though Michael only chuckled as a first response, which gave the bot a giddy feeling in their systems. "I mean - you have to sweep the dirt onto this dustpan, so you can dump it into the trashcan. That's the only way the floor can get clean." Michael calmly explained, any trace of his demeanor prior having vanished a while back. Ennard surely nodded before doing as followed, being careful not to keep the dirt on the floor. They carefully grabbed the dustpan before walking to the trashcan, dumping the contents as Michael chuckled again. "Wait a go, Ennard! If you keep this up, then I can get you more exotic butters!" Michael cheerfully chirped, raising a thumb up to his point. Ennard squeaked in joy, dancing in place at the thought of his butters. 'I get more!' 'I get more!' 'I get more!' Ennard excitedly thought, as Michael began to quiet down, a proud smile showing to the heavy animatronic. "That settles it, then; You get the 'dry chores', while I get the 'wet chores'. It'll be easier for us both." Michael coolly spoke, watching as Ennard paused to the decision. Ennard stood straight, quietly tilting their head as they stared at the man before them. Michael followed Ennard's actions, though that only heightened both parties' confusion. 'He doesn't do this often...' Michael thought matter-of-factly, only to sigh out possible worry. "You okay?" Michael carefully asked, seemingly snapping the bot out of their trance. Ennard continued their look, though seemed to be aware enough to clench their fists against the broom and dustpan, surprisingly not breaking either. "Do you not want to hurt me...?" Ennard cautiously asked, a cold breeze quietly spiking from the tone. Michael stiffened to the question, seemingly knowing why it had popped up. 'Oh, En...' Michael nervously thought before shaking his head, not certain of the nickname. "Ennard - you may have hurt me - but that doesn't give me the right to hurt you back..." Michael carefully spoke, gingerly looking into the animatronics' main eye, which had shown many emotions in their systems. Ennard lifted their head, though confusion slowly grew more prominent, causing Michael to sigh. "Why not? It'd be fair..." Ennard warily countered, watching Michael gently rubbed over his sunken eyes. "Ennard..." Michael softly muttered before looking up, finally meeting one another's gaze once more.
"You may have made mistakes, but so have I. I know that the regret you may feel is the only thing that will hurt you more than anything else; That alone is what hurts me. I have to live with it - every single Day - but I know that it'll stop once you've accepted it to stop, maybe even forgive yourself for the mistakes you've made along the way. No one deserves to suffer more than they already do; Not even you, Ennard." Michael truthfully spoke, trying to hold his chest as his only comfort. Neither could speak for a while, seemingly giving Ennard more time to think. 'He feels the same way...?' 'Is that what he meant last Night?' 'Why can't he just tell me, while his mind's blank now?' Ennard nervously thought, noting the silence in Michael's mind, though they felt a dark cloud overshadowing the feelings he had prior. 'Either way, I get what he's saying...' 'But, how do I forgive myself before he forgives me?' 'Does he forgive me...?' Ennard worriedly thought before nodding with a shift, a quiet hum escaping their voice box. "Will you ever forgive me for my mistakes, Michael...?" Ennard quietly asked, though they couldn't fully focus on Michael himself as their mind grew dark. Their eyes were going in different directions, though their main one seemed unmoving. Michael took a deep breath, gently rubbing his chest as he breathed out. "Honestly - Ennard - I still need time to learn to forgive you..." Michael softly replied, watching the animatronics' head hang low. Michael deeply frowned, watching his 'roommate' sulk from the past. 'They shouldn't have to suffer because of me...' 'I know C.C - probably - wouldn't want that, either...' Michael tearfully thought, though quickly caught himself before he could do anything else. "Although," Michael carefully started as he walked towards Ennard, who raised their head to the sound. Ennard kept their head close to their chest, seeing as they were taller than Michael himself. Standing before the bot, Michael took their hand, watching all of their eyes face his. Michael carefully sighed before a small smile formed, the sight rather soothing to the animatronic above. "If you're willing to put forth the effort of correcting your errors, then it may be easier for me to forgive you... If you want, that is." Michael reassuringly spoke, watching all eyes glow in the room with them. Ennard seemed surprised, their systems now on overdrive to calm their sudden excitement. 'He'll let me correct my wrongs...?' 'He'll let me be his friend...?' 'That's all I really wanted, but I didn't realize it, back then!' Ennard excitedly thought, taking them a while to realize what they really wanted. As quickly as ever, Ennard happily nodded their head, seemingly more joyous than their escape. "I promise that I will try to correct my wrongs! Thank you so much, Michael!" Ennard happily replied, watching as his only friend chuckled back at him. "Don't thank me, Ennard. I thank you for trying."
{Greetings and Salutations, everyone! How are you, Megaloians? Welcome to a new story! So far, I only have two books planned for this. You'll see what I mean later, but - for now - let's focus on the fact that I almost made myself cry on the "You may have made mistakes, but so have I" part. I just got so emotional for that one. Anyways, I do hope you enjoy this story! I'm trying to keep their personalities at a decent level, but I'm not good at that anyway... :3 Have a good Day/Night! Shadamy and Nemo, Glitching Out! :3}