*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—chapter forty-seven: welcome back, old friend
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December 21, 2023
NERVES WERE GETTING TO HIM. Something he had experienced too many times before. But this was different. It wasn't like his entire plan was to have Michael bring these monsters here just so he could set the place aflame on Saturday.
Henry sits at the table in the secret room—he had found out from Michael that Vanessa, Vincent, and James had been here just yesterday and that they had found the box—, staring at the grey bear in front of him. Lefty stood motionless in front of the desk.
The man sighs, resting his arms on the desk. "Charlie, you're going to have to move again eventually. I nearly broke my cover trying to get you in here. I don't need any more problems because of you."
"Then let me find him." comes her reply. "I need to kill him. He deserves it."
Henry shakes his head. "You won't find him," he states, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. "William is not here."
Lefty's eyes open and the animatronic twitches slightly as it activates. The head straightens up, staring at Henry. "I know he is here! I can feel it! Let me go to him and end this, Daddy. Please..."
"You need to wait until Saturday," Henry orderss, sitting up straight in the chair as he looks into Lefty's bright eye. Charlie stared at him from her vessel, a scowl on her face that Henry wasn't able to see until she left Lefty.
"I don't want to wait that long! Two days is too long!" Lefty twitches again from Charlie's anger and the animatronic takes a step back, yelling "I hate you!" before turning around and climbing into the vent.
Henry slams his fists down on the table as his eyes well up with tears. He can feel his heart shatter into a million pieces. His daughter hates him... But had she meant it when she said it? She had every reason to be angry, and it hadn't sounded like a lie at all.
Maybe she really did mean it.
His hands shakes as he sniffs, taking off his glasses as he rubs his eyes. He picks his glasses up and outs them back on, before picking up his phone and dialing a number.
"Hello?" the voice says from the other line. Not much has changed about this man's voice in thirty years other than the fact that it's grown older and more husky.
"Hello, Lincoln. It's Henry," he says, putting the phone up to his ear. "Would you mind coming to the Pizza Place on Saturday?"
