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October 31, 1985
WHEN WILLIAM ENTERS THE PIZZERIA, IT'S FAIRLY QUIET. The restaurant's closed today. This establishment, and Fredbear's, were always closed on Halloween nowadays. Henry does it to grieve still, over Charlotte.
The only other people here in the restaurant now are Jason, Quinn, and Lilith. And Lincoln, their boss.
Henry Emily is nowhere to be found.
Usually they all come in just to talk things over and make sure everything is still in working condition.But Henry just hadn't shown up.
"Is... Is Henry here today?" William asks as he sits down at one of the tables in the Dining Area. He glances towards the Show Stage. Toy Bonnie, Toy Freddy, and Toy Chica are on, moving in their spots on the stage, performing. Lincoln is sitting in the seat across from him. "I didn't see his car, so I thought..."
"No, he never showed up," Lincoln sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "He couldn't have left without notice. I was thinking he must've left a note somewhere if—"
"We found something!"
They both turn around to see Jason, Quinn, and Lilith running back to the Dining Area. Jason skids to a stop, holding an envelope.
"It's from Henry. And it's addressed to the both of you," Lilith says, frowning.
"What the bloody fuck..." William takes the note, turning away from Lincoln, who's trying to sneak a peek at the folded piece of paper inside. William removes it from the ripped envelope, unfolding it.
His grey eyes look over it for a moment, not processing any of the words on the paper.
All he took in from that was that Henry Emily's up and left.
"He's gone..." William says, meeting Lincoln and the others' eyes. "He's left."
He sets the note down on the table for them to read it, and gets up from the chair.
"William? Where are you going?" Quinn questions, watching the tall man push in his chair.
"Home. If Henry's not here, then I can't be here either. And... there's something I need to check," he answers, picking the envelope and note back up.
"Hey!" Jason mutters, reaching for it. William moves his hands out of the way so he can't reach it.
"It's no longer any of your business to read it now," is all William says before he heads straight to the doors of the restaurant. "Goodbye."
The door swings shut behind him.
He sighs, removing his hat from his head, holding it under his arm as he runs a hand though his hair. He looks down at the note ago, rereading it.
If you're reading this, I have not shown up to work today. Why? I officially quit.
It's just not the same anymore, not since what happened at Fredbear's. This was my, and William's, hard work since college. We've planned all this, the restaurants. It was supposed to be kid-friendly and family-oriented. But now it's like something straight out of a horror movie.
I was a father once, twice... To my little Charlotte and her twin Sammy. To my eldest Cameron. But, God, since Charlie's passing, Sarah took both my boys and moved out of Hurricane.
And Will, he's lost Chris, his little boy, and Clara, his wife. All he has left is Michael, Eva, and Elizabeth.
I can't keep doing this. I feel guilty. We keep having to cover up the truth. We keep having to lie to the police, to parents, to everyone in Washington County, Utah, all because of the deaths of our youngest kids, Will. Sometimes I can't imagine how Michael and Eva feel about it, hell, or even how Cameron and Sammy feel, you know? I hope something like these tragedies never happen ever again. And if it does, God, I'll be severely disappointed.
The police still can't find out who killed Charlie, you know? But there's no justice for these kids. They were children. How can I keep working here after all that?
And I don't have anything left. I've got no family to go to when things go wrong.
I have nothing. Nothing to keep me going. Nothing to stop me from making this decision. Nothing to keep me here, in Utah, in Hurricane, of all places.
I'm sorry that it's such an inconvenient time for this, but it must be done.
And you won't be able to find me even if you tried. I've ditched everything and left the state. Police will say I'm missing. Don't try looking for me.
Sincerely, Henry
P.S. Will, if you search my garage, you'll find blueprints for future animatronic designs. They are in your hands now, as well as the hands of the company. I have no use for them anymore.
So long, dear friend. I hope to see you again someday.
author's note am i crying over henry emily again? yes
