‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ Michael afton x reader☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The Afton family nightmare

As a little warning before anyone starts this chapter it's depressing but skjbsjbskjb tis the life of being in love with a traumatized boy 😶

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Mike came back at exactly 6 and I had already used the office phone to let my parents know I would be back at the library.

"Let's go" he had said with urgency "I know a spot". That's how I had found myself in Mike's car for a second time, headed to an unknown 'safe' location. For all I knew this could be a ploy to murder me out in the woods, where no one could find me. Where my body would remain undiscovered for months and just like his father Mike would have gotten away with murder. I shook the thoughts out of my head, the way Mike's face had dropped when I mentioned his first name and the way his voice grew cold every time he spoke of him gave me hope Mike would never want to be like him. He drove with a scowl on his face, his eyebrows scrunched up, his eyes looking forward at the road. We continued through the countryside for a couple minutes before turning onto a windeyer road leading up a hill. At the top you could see almost the entire city, the little place we both called home. He parked the car at the very top of the lookout, the perfect spot. When the car stopped I looked towards him and he looked back.

"This is a nice spot..." I said, breaking the silence.

"Told you so" he chuckled a little, very quietly under his breath. "When did you find those papers?" he asked, starting the difficult conversation I knew we were about to have.

"I'm not sure? Three, four days ago... What can you tell me about them?" he frowned and reached up, bringing down the sunshade on the roof of the car. He pulled out a photo, three, happy, smiling children. I recognized them immediately from the newspaper clipping. Mike hadn't changed very much, his brown hair still falling messily on his head, his blue eyes still the beautiful colour they are today.

"That's you, right?" I pointed at him in the picture. "And those are your siblings...?"

"Yeah..." he replied solemnly, "Evan" he pointed to the smallest boy. A cute, gangly child with an incredibly big smile. "And Elizabeth" he pointed to the girl standing in the middle, a pink bow atop her fluffy red hair, she wore the same toothy grin as her brother.

"They're adorable... but this was taken a while ago right? Is this the last time you saw them?" I looked up at Mike, his mouth was pursed in a thin line, he wouldn't make eye contact.

"Pretty much..." The pause was long, heartbreaking and incredibly sad. I had always been a people reader and it wasn't hard to tell they had been gone a while, and not just on some trip, but completely gone. I reached out and put my hand on his, a small yet comforting act. "I was young and stupid and the worst older brother..." he started slowly.

"No Micheal i'm sure..." I tried to cut him off but he stopped me.

"No you're not sure, because you weren't there, you didn't see..." he stopped, taking a deep, shaky breath and looking out over the view. "It was his birthday, we celebrated it at the restaurant because that's just what you do when your dad runs a birthday party business. But Evan... Evan he, he hated them, was terrified of the animatronics and my friends and I... we found it funny... We put him in it, his head in the jaw, just for a minute to really freak him out, and he was crying... a lot" I watched in fear as he told the rest of the story, his words getting more and more quiet every time until he finally came to the end of the story. "And when the springtraps get wet... they snap close" his last word was the quietest, barely even a whisper. He looked forward with anger in his eyes and continued.

"But that's just where it started, later Elizabeth was simply gone one day, and the five children. I can't prove it, he hides it well, but I know it was him... every time." His teeth were gritted closed, his sadness turned to anger, it could almost feel the heat radiating off his hand that I was still holding. He took a deep breath and placed the photo back where he had taken it out. "And there's the story behind it, Freddy's crazy shit" he returned to his usual witty self, the moment almost forgotten, almost. Mike may have moved on, afterall, the deaths were years ago, however I would remember. I would remember the way his eyes began to water when he mentioned their names then turned red when his father was mentioned. The way he spoke softly, so softly I could barely hear him. If the wind had been blowing the way it was when we were driving home I would have never heard him, but I did. I listened and now I knew, so even as he dropped me off at home and I waved goodbye from my porch, I knew. Even though it had been an hour since he had finished telling his story... I knew ours had just begun.

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Anyhow there's the sad backstory every good character needs and with that over with the story can go back to the mystery :) (really short chapter word count was only about 900)