His Superstar

Chapter 8: Can We Keep Him?

     All around me there's fire. Just fire. It slowly creeps closer to me, just barely daring to touch my skin as I process where I am. I jerk away from the flames that get too close, only to come into contact with more.

     It's growing out of control, and I start to run away. I'm not just running away from the fire, though. No, I think I'm also running from something far more terrifying than the fire itself. I look over my shoulder to see what I'm so afraid of, and I don't see anything at first. But then I get a glimpse of something that makes my blood run cold despite the heat.

     Afton.

     My breath hitches and I run faster, ignoring the burns that are starting to appear all over me. I need to get away. Whatever I do, I need to get away.

     I breathe in smoke and start to cough uncontrollably. It's not exactly helping me run. I start to get dizzy and trip over my own feet, falling to my knees. I scrape the palms of my hands when I try to catch myself, and I let out a cry. No one comes to help.

     I continue to cough, and my vision goes blurry. I let out another yelp when something sharp grasps my shoulder. It flips me over so I'm looking up at it. It glitches, little bits of it lagging behind as it moves. It's stuck between the hand-made rabbit mask with red eyes, the gruesome amalgam of man and animatronic, and...

     "J-Jeremy?" I cough.

     His face is pale and his eyes are lifeless. His expression is neutral, and his jaw goes slack. I realize that even though his face is still intact doesn't mean he's alive.

     The sharp pain in my shoulder is brought back to my attention, and the clawed hand that has taken hold of it is squeezing to the point where I'm convinced my whole am is about to come off. I scream, but it doesn't do any good. He just squeezes harder.

     "Y/N!" I hear my name called.

     I look around, but don't see anything. Just the fire, and it.

     "Y/N! Wake up!"

     I blink. What? Then-

     "Get away!" I shouted, snapping up.

     I furiously rubbed my eyes with one hand, used the other to feel my shoulder, and used my legs to kick. I didn't know what I was kicking at, but it seemed to be working, because whatever it was my feet were making contact with moved away. Well, for a moment at least.

     It came back and took firm hold of my arms. I tried to squirm out, but when I took my hand away and blinked the tiredness out of my eyes, I felt my cheeks heat up.

     "O-oh my gosh! Freddy I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, going limp.

     He looked at me with such a bluntly shocked expression that I immediately felt guilty. He asked softly, "Y/N, did you have a nightmare?"

     I nodded slowly. "Yeah... I'm sorry, Freddy. It was just so real, I couldn't tell if the dream was over, so I-"

     In one swift movement he had me in a nearly bone-crushing embrace. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Superstar."

     I stammered, "F-Freddy, i-it's no big deal. Really-"

     "No, it's not okay!" he said. "You only cry when you're really upset."

     Was I really crying? I asked myself, but deciding to figure that out later.

     "Well, I'd thought you'd gotten used to it," I retorted. "I've been 'really upset' for quite a bit."