17 : Hellfire

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In his hazy gaze that blurred in and out of reality, a small, fuzzy figure that shifted shape entered his vision. He vaguely heard a cry of an innocent voice spill through his ears, but he wasn't sure what exactly it was for.

The boy blinked lazily, he felt his inner heat drain from him. A numb, yet burning sensation fizzled up his arm and chest, like someone was spilling electrical water on him. He shut his eyes, for they were too heavy to keep open. He just needed to sleep, he just needed to... sleep.

But what was sleeping to him, other than momentarily dying? For he couldn't dream, he couldn't adapt to the world around him. All his functions would be useless. What is that, other than
demise?

He didn't want to die.

Small hands shook his shoulders, weakly. They were warm, and accompanied well with the cold, numb fuzziness that engulfed his body. The little voice calling in his head sounded like it was beneath water, yet it clearly shook delicately with fear and concern.

He knew inside who it was, but he was slowly losing his ability to comprehend it. He felt small arms wrap around his shoulders, as the person tried to move him. He would have found their attempts amusing, but he couldn't laugh without burning his chest. He is much heavier, like lead. He is not able to carry his own weight when he is disabled like this.

After a couple moments of struggle, the small thing gave up. He felt the person plop down next him, their warm body a stark contrast to his. Muffled sobbing was heard to his side. For some reason, a cold shock flowed through his chest at the sound.

"...Gregory, what do I do...?"

His fingers twitched. A part of him started to fight the thick darkness wrapping around his head. He didn't like the sound of despair, it didn't suit her bright smile, her kind words. Her tears were like pouring burning lava on his heart, when each one fell, it felt he was being stabbed by icicles.

His joints began to move, and next thing he knows, he is opening his dreary, golden eyes with much effort. His arm slowly pushed beneath him as he was dragging himself to his elbows. The little girl to his side sat up with a gasp.

She quickly helped him into a sitting position, yet her face turned fearful and traumatized as her fingers suddenly became sticky with a slightly warm, red fluid. Her eyes trailed to the crimson pooling on the floor next to Gregory as it stained the boy's blue shirt a dark color. It was all coming out of a giant gash on his shoulder, like ravaged bullet holes. The girl gagged at the sight, for she was a fragile being with an even weaker stomach.

Yet, it was a strange substance, for it didn't seem like blood when you really look at it. Blood was dark crimson and thick, this fluid was bright candy red, like strawberry syrup, it was sticky like it too. She wasn't too worried about the uncanniness of the liquid and more of how pale and weak Gregory seemed, and how the blood pooled around him on the colorful padded floor like red paint.

His strange eyes didn't shine as much before, he looked like a fading ghost. If he was cold then, he was freezing now. He was watching the girl, and when they caught eyes, he smiled weakly at her shaking form.

He slowly shifted forward, his bloodied fingers brushing against her tear-stained cheek in what should have been a comforting gesture, but her tears flowed like little streams as her eyes held sadness and fear. His fingers left a trailing, bright red print against her face, which washed away tinged and her salt water tears red.

"Gregory... are you ok?"

The boy couldn't find it in him to speak, the only thing that came out was a short hiccup that sounded like a low croak. Huh, seems like he is losing all functions. He attempted to get on his legs, but he couldn't move them, he was losing too much fluid.

The thought should have been worrying, but all he felt was a hollow emptiness in where he is supposed to think. It really seems like he is losing function. Not that he could bring it in himself to care. He was never really an emotional being, apathy was a more distinguishing trait.

Well, until he met (y/n).

The boy glanced from the girl to the large, empty daycare around him, the lights were blaring overhead which made him squint his dizzy eyes. It was quiet other than the sound of generators thrumming slowly. The place was weirdly empty. He still can't get over the fact that she found the last genetor. The thought made him slightly warm inside, but that as well reminded him of his mission.

His darkened eyes drowsily searched for the animatronic that he was sure was by his side or nearby, but the jester was nowhere to be seen. Again, this should have been worrying. He wonders how long he has been immobile.

He slowly inched himself upwards. The girl watched him with wide eyes as Gregory pulled himself up before she stood and helped him off the ground, gripping his good arm gently.. As he steadied himself, she let him go. The boy winced at the sizzling feeling of pain up his shoulder. A quiet word of appreciation fell off his lips as he attempted to smile shakily at her.

The girl tried to be optimistic, but the sticky red blood surrounding him and on her hands made her want to gag. (Y/n) yelped in surprise as Gregory suddenly tumbled into her, for he hadn't realized how weak he really was. He briefly leaned all his weight upon her for a moment, which caused her to lose her balance. He quickly caught himself and rapidly grabbed her shoulders as she was about to fall. He mumbled apologies to her, but the concerned look in her irises was directed towards him.

He tiredly trudged forward, his legs felt like they were boneless and trudging through water. They wouldn't listen to his commands, making him limp in a drunk way. But even through his dreariness, he had grasped (y/n) soft, small hands into his.

The girl quietly guided him to where she thought those large wooden doors were that she saw before, the worried look in her irises never leaving. Though she couldn't quite remember which direction it was, she was sure it was an exit to this once colorful place. Her muscles were tense, like a compressed spring, she hoped to never see this place again.

She was so afraid, so terrified. Where did the jester go? Where was he? The only proof he was even with Gregory was the black oil stains ingrained in the padding and on the boy's shirt.

Is he still Moon, or is he Sun? Either way, she wouldn't want to see him ever again. He wanted to hurt her, he wanted to... see her die. The twisted smile and hungry, red optics flashed behind her eyes and she felt her fingers tremble. He did hurt her, the darkening bruise on her ankle still stung. But the only question in her head now was why? He was built for children like her, why would he want to hurt them? Why would he want to hurt her?

At least she was with Gregory, she kept telling herself, at least he was here. He promised to protect her, and she knew just how smart and strong he is. He may be hurt now, but she was sure that it would not stop him. Gregory was kind and caring. He would never want to hurt her, she knows this, and she appreciates Gregory on how much he helped her on her journey. He wouldn't want to harm her, but why do her fingers sting in his cold, tight grip?

Why do his eyes speak with golden hellfire?

AUGHHHHHHHH
Kind of a filler chapter, Gregory is a tired boy rn but
Again Thanks for all the support, ily guys 😩🫵💕

I'm aslo gonna be editing some chapters of this story, especially the special so they are not hot messes 😂

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