Archon Quest: How to Solve a Murder

Chapter 1

It was 1:37pm when Michael received the call. Prior to the interruption, he lay in his bed, snoring and drooling into the pillow below. When the ringtone chimed in his ear, he choked on his breath.

"What—!" he coughed, "Aw, shit—"

Michael ripped the phone off of the wall, the cord pushing a few small papers off of his nightstand, "Ev, is that you? Am I late? Sorry, I just—"

Someone on the other line cut him off, and he shifted to sit upright.

"Oh. Hey—hello Mr. Olowe. Is something wrong? What's going on?"

Listening intently to the man in the phone, Michael's eyes widened, "No—no, that's impossible. How?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I—Okay. Okay—I'll be there in a minute."

At 1:41pm, Michael Afton left his small apartment in what was, prior to this moment, a quiet town. He raced with the time on his watch: 1:48pm. He had an hour and some spare time before he was supposed to pick up his brother from school. How was he supposed to deal with something like this in only an hour?

He arrived at the pizzeria at 1:59pm, the smiling faces on the Freddy Fazbear's sign taunting him. He rushed towards the doors of the building, but was promptly stopped by two police officers.

"Where do you think you're goin', kid?" a man said to him, "We've got an active scene going, so scram."

Michael glared at him, "I'm the owner of this place. The sheriff called me here. Can I go in now?"

"Afton's kid?" the other cop snorted, "Shoulda' known, you look just like him. Better hope you don't inherit his attitude too, heh."

His cheeks burned and his nostrils flared, but he said nothing.

"I need to see some ID, sir," the first cop said.

"Sure," Michael fumbled in his pockets for his driver's license. When he showed the cop his identification, the man stepped by to let him through with a scoff. Normally, Michael would be annoyed by that small offense, but he did not have the time to care today.

"Fritz!" he sprinted across the black and white checkered floor and onto the colorful carpet of the party room.

The trembling teenager glanced up at him, "Mike!"

Michael grabbed his shoulders, "Fritz, man, are you okay? You're not hurt?"

"N-no, I'm fine, but that girl..." Fritz let out a shaky breath, "I-I was just trying to find an extra Bonnie head for later tonight, in the old storage room, so I could switch it out after we closed—he was starting to look a little dirty—but i-it...it smelled horrible. And it was dark, and I—there was a foot in the corner, but...I never thought—"

"Okay, Fritz—"

"And I can't just stop caring for my siblings, they need me but—this is just—" he sniffled, "What am I supposed to do, Mike?"

"Just calm down, okay?" Michael looked him in the eyes earnestly, "I'm gonna figure everything out, don't worry about a thing. Once these assholes give you the go ahead, run straight home, alright?"

Fritz swallowed, pushing down his fears, "What about you? This stuff—it's—it's heavy..."

He chuckled, "I can handle it, man. Take care of yourself, okay? I should go see what's really happening here, as much as I don't want to..."

Despite the horror of the situation, Fritz giggled bitterly, "Thanks, boss man. Um—let me know how things go?"

"Mhm," he nodded, flashing Fritz his signature 'everything is going to be fine' smile. In truth, he was just as terrified as his employee was, but someone needed to hold it all together. Michael would be the rock until he finally cracked. But he promised himself that would come later rather than sooner.