Warnings: Strong language
~ * ~ *
I hate spaghetti-o's.
For the past month and a half, all we eat are spaghetti-o's. It doesn't help that sometimes William has the nerve to buy the ones without meatballs.
Staying here- in this underground bunker- is absolutely driving me bat-shit crazy. How could William keep us down here when he's going out doing who-knows-what up in the actual world?!
Why isn't Jr.'s closed down yet?
Were the multiple deaths not good enough for the people? A young couple gets slaughtered by the machinery and no one cares. That's fucking nuts.
We don't know how long we'll get to stay and we're running out of things to do. I just really want something other than spaghetti-o's to feed myself. What if he bought ingredients to make a cake? I will definitely ask William next time he's down here.
Which happens to be today. William comes down to drop off paper towels, per my request, and I try not to gag when his sweaty figure sits on our clean armchair.
"No such luck yet," he gasps. I don't know what's gotten into him, but he seems a lot older than I'm used to. Michael groans and William continues. "The only thing we've gotten is the animatronics are no longer able to roam around during the day."
"And the night?"
"They seem to be forgetting that their security guards are in greater need."
"Is there a security guard right now?" I ask in horror. Surely William himself wouldn't allow that.
William shakes his head. "Thankfully, no, but this has gotten rather slow. I'm afraid to say I must do something to hurry up the process, but-"
"No!" I shriek, knowing exactly what he means. I will not sit here and allow this man to harm anymore children. We can wait another month or two if it means the children are safe.
William blinks. "(Y/N)," he tries to coax, but I shake my head firmly.
"Do not hurt anyone else. That's final." Even he seems to forget that he's the boss, because he sighs and gives up. "Michael and I can wait."
I catch Michael's eye and he hurriedly nods. William growls. "I have to do something."
When neither of us offer any ideas, he leaves and we hear the hatch slam shut. Seconds after he leaves is when I remember I forgot to ask him for a more variety in food.
~ * ~ *
"Well, we have nothing better to do," Michael says one evening out of the blue. I jump; neither of us have said anything in days.
"What?" I ask, my voice raspy from lack of use.
Michael doesn't seem to have a problem. "We're never going to have time to get to know each other better, so why not now?"
"Okay...?" I know enough about Michael.
1) He died.
2) He wasn't supposed to get back up.
"What do you want to know?" I continue.
He pauses. "Your mom seemed really nice but I've never seen your dad."
"He died a long time ago. It was when I was three or four but I don't really remember him a lot." I try to think. "All I know is that he had a lot of liver problems, and that's what killed him."
"Oh." Michael bites his lip. "My dad used to have a lot of illnesses too before I was even born but he got a lot better."
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Michael...? You There? (CRYING CHILD X READER) ON HOLD
FanfictionThis story isn't canon. I tried to be as fnaf-event and timeline accurate as possible but it isn't really something you can do. The whole series doesn't have a clear timeline, no matter how many theories you throw out there. DISCLAIMER: T...
