Five Nights at Freddy's-The Black Hood

Epilogue

The entrance to his home subdivision came upon him quicker than expected. He quickly put his blinker on and came to a stop. Thankfully, no one was behind him to communicate their disapproval of his hesitancy with their horn.

It had been yet another quick yet somber flight from St. Louis, and he was tired. Not just physically tired, but mentally drained as well. Many of the emotions he'd felt over the past few weeks and beyond that he'd thought he'd been getting over were resurrected by his long talk with the young man to whom he'd told so much. It was true: it had been so long since he'd had such a heartfelt discussion like that since most people in his life who were privy to those memories had already hard those thoughts shared. Still, Josh was by far the youngest person he'd let in on the tragedy that befell his family. Perhaps there were some teens out there who could be saved from the callousness toward everything that was running rampant throughout the country's youth, some diamonds in the rough to pick up the torch whenever it fell.

As he finally pulled up to his driveway, he was surprised to see an additional car parked in his garage. A surge of joy came to his weary heart. His wife was home early from her work trip. He pulled into the garage next to her car and carefully made sure not to hit her fender, a mistake he knew he would pay for dearly. Grabbing his bag from the backseat, he exited the car and walked through the side door into the house. Almost immediately, he was greeted by excited voices coming from the kitchen, accompanied by the wonderful smell of one of his favorite dishes. He took a big whiff and allowed his bag to fall to the ground next to him. A head emerged from the kitchen and peered at him.

"Dad's home!" the twelve-year-old boy announced.

As the head disappeared back around the corner, someone else came around the corner and ran to him. He smiled and embraced his daughter.

"How was it, Dad?" she asked.

"Empty," he said. "About what you'd expect from a funeral service for a wanted man."

"I'm sorry, Dad," she said, beginning to tear up. She always found herself sharing whatever emotions her father had. If he was happy and joyful, she was too. If he was sad, her eyes watered as well. She was daddy's girl, always looking up to him in nearly every way. Being fourteen years old, she hadn't really begun dating yet (at her parents' strong insistence), but she knew one thing for certain: she wanted the boys she pursued to be as caring and zealful for life as her father.

"Well, hello there, good-looking stranger," another voice said. He looked up to see the smiling face of his wife, her beaming face still as bright and radiant as the day of their first dinner date some eighteen years prior. Without a moment's hesitation, he strolled over and pulled her into a deep kiss, which she returned, causing their son to make choking noises from the doorway to the kitchen.

"I didn't expect you to be home so early," he told her when they broke apart.

"Neither did I," she said, "but Steph just showed up out of nowhere saying that her ex agreed out-of-court to pay the child support, so she took over, and here I am!" She raised her hands to give a little display of her presence. He laughed.

"I've really missed you," he said, and she smiled.

"I know," she said, leaning in for another kiss on the cheek. "Me, too. I'm making your favorite: chicken tetrazzini with garlic bread just how you like it...since you just got back from a hard journey."

"So did you," he pointed out.

"I know, but I wasn't the one who just came back from a funeral." She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "You can tell me about it later. For now, let's just enjoy each other's company for a little while."