God I Hate This Job - William Afton x Male Reader

Nightmare

hi guys i like fnaf 4

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In the beginning of your slumber, your brain was fogged by the familiar darkness of dreamless sleep. Invisible shapes and colors flashed behind your eyes as your brain shut off parts of its function to allow your body to recoup after your long, stressful day. But that was only the beginning. After seemingly no time at all, the shapes and colors began to take form. With a breath, you were in your temporary room again, but something had changed. The details were fuzzy, but your mind wasn't awake enough to realize that. It was dark, and everything was clouded in a hazy blue. You looked around, a grandfather clock sounding quietly in the background. You sat up, the comforter you were laying under falling off of your chest and into your lap as you hazily looked to the right, the digital clock on the dusty, old night stand displaying the time 12:00 AM in numbers that bathed a small radius in front of the clock in a red hue that clashed starkly with the blue haze of everything else. You blinked a few times, light headed and weary. A sense of dread settled deep into your bones, your intestines twisting with an inexplicable sense of dread as you turned your attention to the doors on either side of the room.

You needed to hide, is what your brain screamed at you. You jumped from the bed, your legs tangling in the covers and causing your body to fall to the floor weakly with a thud. You wrestled your legs three, your shoulder aching yet somehow painless as you pulled yourself onto your feet. Your eyes flitted around the room, the walls seemingly closing in on you as you saw the left door pull open towards the hallway ever-so subtly. A shadow moved outside of it. Your blood ran cold and you dropped to the floor again, quietly this time. You rolled under the bed with haste. The space was tight, and confined. You had to fight against your body's nature not to begin breathing faster in your chest-crushing panic. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening. A dog barked in the background.

Your face felt wet, and somewhere in the back of your mind you realized you had started crying at some point in time. This realization made keeping your breathing quiet, deep, and calculated. You regrettably let out a loud, shuddery breath mixed with a slight sob and clamped your hand over your own mouth, eyes shooting wide open again. A door creak, and a loud, heavy, metallic step. Then another. You slowly shuffled back towards where the wall and the bed met, trying to distance yourself as far as possible from whatever was now in the room. You watched the edges of the bed, trying to see anything. The darkness impaired your vision, and whatever was trying to find you was still standing relatively out of sight by the open door. You waited what felt like hours for whatever was hunting you down to do anything. To move with its rusty, creaky body or make any sort of noises. It wasn't human. It was robotic. But it wasn't like your friends—no, the withereds wouldn't do anything to hurt you. They helped you. The toys wouldn't hurt you either, they liked you. Whatever was in the room right now it wasn't like them, it was wrong. An abomination.

It moved forward again, repeatedly now. You could hear its heavy, metal steps that shook the furniture, and the creaking of its metal bones. You could see its feet now, a purply blue like Bonnie. This isn't your Bonnie. You wanted to squeeze your eyes shut. Even looking at its oversized, monstrous feet with sharp claws at the end made you feel wrong. Something was so very wrong. Something bigger than the monstrosity standing only a few feet away from your hidden, quivering form. You could hear the muffled noises of laughing kids, but something told you that they really weren't as far away as it sounded they were. They were close, watching.

It knew where you were.

You tried not to let out a scream as the thing turned towards the bed. Instead you whimpered pitifully as a loud—unbearably loud—screech emitted from the body of the thing. It was like a piercing scream that ripped through the house, rattling the photos hung on the walls from years past when the residents of the house had been happy. Had been free. Unconfined to the guilt, grief, and trauma from having your life, and family, ripped from your grasp without warning. The abomination crouched, revealing more of its broken, tattered body that could easily crush you like an ant beneath its weight. It bent over, body still groaning in protest as it peaked under the bed. Its pink, glowing eyes meeting yours. It looked like it was smiling. Smiling at you. Smiling because it found you. You screamed and jolted forward.

You were alone. Sweat was caked to your shivering frame as you gripped the comforter pooled in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, curling in on yourself to become as small as possible as you looked around.

The thing was gone, and you were once again alone. The room was dark, but light from the windows in the hallways outside shined a dusky light into the house as the sun rose slowly over the horizon. You were safe. Craning your head to the side, you looked at the digital clock on that dusty, old night stand. Its red numbers bathed a small radius in front of the clock in a red hue. The time read 6:00 AM. You breathed a shaky sigh of relief. The nightmare was over.

It was time to get ready for work.