𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 | William Afton x Reader

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣

   There was a small coffee shop a couple of blocks away from your house in Springdale that you frequented when in the mood. It stood dutifully next to the library, almost bustling during the week.

   You sat outside on nice days, usually to think. That tradition didn't change today.

   You crossed your arms over the table, trying to enjoy the scenery. On the inside, though, your brain was fogged with troubled thoughts.

   All you'd really done (other than get hired) that week was cancel therapy, and, for some reason, you were still a little regretful. You didn't know why, because you were aware it wasn't helping you... it might've been the moral support. You'd have nobody to turn to to make you feel sane if things got bad again, and it terrified you. Hopefully, everything will be fine. I have to be fine.

   It was hard to convince yourself. The only person you had left was a man who wasn't even 30 yet and had murdered countless innocent children. It always made you sick to think about, but you hoped with all you had that he was getting better. You had to lie to yourself and say that he was, despite the chilling feeling in your bones recently that something was bound to go wrong soon.

   You sighed, the light breeze ruffling your hair. It really was a nice day, you thought, and decided to push the bad thoughts out of your head for the time being. You were sure they would return soon enough - maybe when the restaurant opened - but for now, they had no business plaguing your mind.

   "Oh my gosh! This coffee shop is sooo cute!"

   "It is kinda cute, isn't it? Perfect for a small town."

   A conversation reached your ears. You weren't trying to eavesdrop, but it wasn't like anything interesting was being discussed, anyway.

   "It's such a nice day out... I'm surprised there's only one person sitting outside."

   "Me too... hm."

   "Can we go in and get something to drink, please?"

   "Wait... Oh my god, Nicole."

   "What?"

   "Is that...?"

   You looked up, suddenly recognizing the voices. Nicole...?

   There were two people standing there, some feet away from your table, and they were staring right at you.

   "Y/N...?" The girl of the pair asked.

   "Holy shit."

William's POV

   Sometimes I wished I had pursued art.

   I wasn't extremely skilled at drawing, but I enjoyed it. I rediscovered that feeling when I began to work on my blueprints for the animatronics. I was revising them now.

   I had already begun to work on Circus Baby, but there was a modification I was unsure of how to create. Something deep within me urged me to solve the problem so I could enable myself.

   A death trap. 

   She was supposed to produce ice cream for the children who approached her, but that was only a distraction. She was going open up, sort of, and yank them inside with a claw. But how did I build it?

   I sighed and ruffled my hands through my hair, wanting to give up. Still, though, I needed this. My bloodlust needed this. And it wasn't for any purpose other than my own satisfaction - knowing that I could kill with an animatronic.