When They Were Lost . . . (Sequel to That Time In 1987. . . .)

22: Escape Artists

(A/N I'm so sorry about the lack of updates. This chapter will be longer than usual, but I hope you enjoy it!)

(Freddy's POV)

Jonathan hadn't come back yet, which frightened Freddy.

Some kind of tension hung in the air, like a poisonous gas waiting to be released. The longer Jonathan was gone, the longer Freddy felt like he was going insane. He almost wanted to be dead already, but something deep inside of him told him otherwise.

His back still stung from when Jonathan whipped him. It had probably literally scarred him for life, the wide lacerations digging through the skin in his back. He wondered if anyone else had been whipped at all. 

"Great . . ." he said silently, to himself. "My wrists are still bound to this post, I still have scars, and I don't know when Jonathan will be back. When he does, he's definitely going to finish the job. There's nothing I can do to stop that. Absolutely nothing."

Freddy sighed. He was talking to himself. 

No one could hear him, which he was thankful for. If Jonathan had been there to hear him talking to himself, he would laugh.

Freddy's attention turned to his back once again. He needed to escape. But how? If only he had some sort of power . . .

Wings.

He had completely forgotten about his wings. He knew he could retract his wings and grow them back out at will. Maybe he could try growing them back out.

He pushed the wings from inside of his back out. It stung for a moment as it broke through the thick, cement-like scabs that covered his lacerations. The wings spread wide before finally being completely released from his back. Freddy laughed with joy and pain. He had his wings!

He lifted his right wing and snapped it across the metal that bound his wrists against the post. Surprisingly, the wing sliced straight through the metal, cutting half of it off and letting it clatter to the floor.

My wings can do that . . . ? Freddy asked himself with shock. Maybe I can free myself and my friends with my wings!

Freddy pulled his left wing back and snapped across the hot steel on his wrist, slicing that in half as well. If his wings could make mountains cave in and cut through steel, Freddy wondered what other amazing things his wings could do.

When he was finally able to stand up, he found that is legs burned every time he bent them. He had been kneeling down for quite some time. His thighs and his calves ached badly. If he couldn't move his legs, how would he be able to escape?

Freddy waved his wings slightly, and a smile hooked onto the side of his mouth.

I'll fly, of course.

Spreading his wings further than he usually did, he pounded downward. His feet released from the ground, which was a nice sensation to have. He wasn't used to his ability to fly, as the memory always lost its way.

He slowly flapped his way over to the large metal door, readying his wings to strike the door down. He sliced downward with his right wing. The door screeched as the wing cut through. What was left was a long laceration straight through the door. Freddy grinned and laughed as he raised the other wing and slashed it across the other slash he had made, creating a large "X". Adrenaline pumped through him, as he was completely ready to free his friends. To fight Jonathan. To end it all in flames.

He raised both wings and engaged in a rapid fit of slashing with his wings. Cuts appeared on the with every second. In a little bit, there would be a large hole. Large enough for Freddy to jump through.