*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—chapter fifty: welcome to hell, you bastard
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IT'S MUCH TOO BRIGHT. William notices this as soon as he gains consciousness. But, he didn't open his eyes just yet. He was trying to figure out where he was, but without looking at his surroundings.
He was supposed to be dead. Maybe. That much he knew. Henry had set Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place on fire. It had been a gigantic incinerator disguised as a pizzeria. He remembers burning with them all, everyone that was there to stay behind and die in the fire. He remembers screaming as he crawls through the fire, trying to crawl his way out. He remembers finding Henry, climbing through one of the vents. Henry hadn't been trying to escape. He was trying to prevent William from escaping by leading him back further into the maze.
It hadn't seemed to work though. William was still alive. Or, supposedly...
Was this the afterlife? He definitely wasn't in what people described Hell to be like. But he knew he wasn't in what people described to be Heaven. But at the same time... maybe this was Hell.
He opens his eyes, quickly closing them again once the light reaches his eyes. He squints, a hand shield his face as he takes a look at his surroundings. He's in a grassy field, decorated with pretty wildflowers and a few oak trees. The sun shines down, making the area seem peaceful. But he knew it was not all that peaceful. It was just him. No one else. He was alone—not like he cared—but this was strange. Normally, if you were to be somewhere peaceful, like, a physical place, you were with someone. This was not that.
He feels the grass beneath. This is real, he thinks, looking around. I'm not dreaming. He looks at his arms, noticing he wasn't how he had been when he died. He was currently the way he was pre-Springlock failure, back when he wore that stupid purple security guard outfit. The only thing to remind him that he had died that very first time was the Springlock scars that littered his pale skin.
Are the scars everywhere else? He pulls up his shirt, and the white tank beneath it, to see his torso littered with the same scars. He feels along his neck and throat. He could feel the scars there too. He rolls up the leg of his pants. The scars are on his legs.
"Hey, dimwit," a voice breaks through the peaceful silence and William sits up abruptly, looking around in confusion. Though, he didn't see anyone, "stop checking yourself out."
William continues to look for the source of the sound, but to no avail. He wasn't alone. But wherever this person was... No, he must be imagining it.
"You're not imagining it, stupid." The voice says. "I'm here, just not in any physical form. Right now, I'm in your head."
