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The pain came before anything else, only feeling a rough uncomfortable feeling underneath his tired and freezing body, unable to even move his fingers as even thinking felt like a struggle. Michael wouldn’t open his eyes, unable to feel the energy to even do so. And so he sat there weakly, nobody to lift him and hold him tightly and soothe the pain, comfort him mentally and physically. Not even Jeremy could, his sweet kind Jeremy with half his face torn and shredded from that dreadful animatronic, his kind nature of once he previously had now been replaced. Nothing wrong with that as Jeremy wasn’t ever cruel, just blunt and quick to grow anger. Just like Michael.
Their argument was so dumb now that Michael thinks back, he had lied about taking a job at Circus Babys, lying and saying it was just another odd job as a mechanic. Knowing that Jeremy absolutely despised everything has to do with Freddys and their chain of work, knowing how scummy they were. It was justifiable hatred after what happened to him in 87. Now having to struggle with his motor skills and more.
Jeremy had found out about Michael's secretive job when the brunette had returned home after being kidnapped and hidden inside one of his father’s old spring lock suits, the thought of that making him choke up and struggle. The blonde was rightfully upset, demanding Michael to quiet when he’d seen the cuts and bruises littering the tanned brunette's body. But, he had protested and Jeremy had declared it was him or the job.
He would’ve picked Jeremy if he had not been cruelly reminded that his sister was down there, alone and cold with nobody but the shocks that would break down her physical body. Instead of a terrifying animatronic, he’d picture his eight year old sister sobbing and begging for help.
At first the choice seemed too simple, but now Michael wasn’t sure what to think. Prying open his eyes only to wince as the rising sun beamed right into his half lidded eyes, unable to stop a broken whine from his broken voice box, the action hurting more than what he was expecting. Slowly he began to move to sit up, much too scared to spare a glance downwards and confirm his fears. Too scared to see what Ennard had done, sure he could feel it but the sight would confirm it was real.
Michael could remember the way he was stuck in the back of his mind, some days he could hear and even see what was happening. But no thought or word would be heard over the loud animatronics, not like he could ever talk or beg them to stop. Stuck in the deepest darkest corner in his mind as the pain grew to be unbearable. They couldn’t even give him the pity of killing Michael, letting him feel each and every slither of animatronic wires that moved under broken skin, almost like he was a doll with a ripped seam.
A gag tore from his throat as an unmistakable feeling gathered near his Adam's apple, slow and slender fingers moved to reach into his oddly torn open jaw and feel around, struggling not to cry as his fingers finally felt the gross object and pulled it out. Michael’s hand lowered to his lap while staring down at an open palm, thought’s feeling fuzzy as the wires tangled and squirmed before dropping out the side of his hand and slithering to an open grate next to him.
It took a moment for Michael to collect himself before shaky hands settled on either side of his ruined body and forced himself to stand, wincing hard from sharp pains traveling up his ankles and over his body, hand reaching out desperately to hold the lamp post next to him. Words failed miserably as he heaved for a breath he’d never get, slowly moving when his body did not feel like it was burning.
It took much longer than he wanted to get home, struggling and heaving as he walked down the sidewalk, glad that it was much too early for his neighbors to see his pitiful state. Though, it was probably to no shock for them now as it had felt like eons of Michael’s body being used like that of a meatsuit. Feeling ripped and discarded like a used paper towel, sure they got what they wanted but now Michael had to live like this, suffer and feel each broken stretch across his body.
The air was cold, not helping with Michaels already freezing body, the grass still wet from morning dew of the freshness of the day. Everything seemed so dull, from the grayness to the homes, to the clouds coating the dulled sky heavily. It felt perfect for the somber mood Michael was already in, dampening whatever hope he had left. It was childish to be hopeful anyways, it was obvious he wouldn’t or feel the same, not after all that. The trauma of the previous nights already ruined all the therapy appoint’s he’d been mandated to do, not like those helped anyways. Always making Michael feel crazy and confused, he stopped going after four times.
Reaching home was probably the most victorious Michael had felt in days, the first real win he could count as his own. Now leaning heavily on the wooden door frame that creaked loudly from his entrance. Wincing, Michael limped his way throughout the house with soft grunts from a broken throat. Having to grab his furniture to hold himself up, each and every step burning. But finally he reached the bathroom, stumbling through the doorway and gripping the porcelain sink that was once shared with Jeremy, terrified to look up and see his own reflection in broken glass from where he punched it.
From what Michael could already see, his fingers were a disgusting blotchy purple amongst darker and lighter purples. Dirt underneath his cracked and broken fingernails, his hands trembling uncomfortably wondering where the dirt must’ve come from. Hopefully they hadn’t tried to garden, considering just how many bugs littered the dirt. God, that thought made his stomach churn uncomfortably. Maggots and worms underneath his skin and eating at rotten flesh, poking their way out his body before burrowing deeper to lay eggs. His body becomes a home for intrusive disgusting bugs.
Michael heaved for a shuddering breath and shook his weak head frantically, though it would not be useful as he’d sooner rather than later have to accept the reality of it and take care of it. Rather deal with it now than in the future with thousands of maggots eating away at him. Destroying whatever his decayed body had preserved. And so, he forced his eyes up to see his horrific appearance. Unable to stop himself as a scream resounded from his torn throat, able to watch and see as limp cords struggled to move with his scream. If that hadn’t been enough to make him vomit, the hole traveling from his throat to low on his stomach should’ve. The worst part is that he could clearly see inside his body and the blackened void. The most he could see was shredded organs, a goopy mess slowly leaking out from the large void. It was in no way a clean cut as the scooper had left the line up his body shredded, pieces of flesh hanging uselessly.
Michaels eyes traveled down his body, watching with various large injuries from where the animatronics had struggled to fit inside his body, seeming to rip at the seams from just how compact the fit was.
From what Michael could already see, his fingers were a disgusting blotchy purple amongst darker and lighter purples. Dirt underneath his cracked and broken fingernails, his hands trembling uncomfortably wondering where the dirt must’ve come from. Hopefully they hadn’t tried to garden, considering just how many bugs littered the dirt. God, that thought made his stomach churn uncomfortably. Maggots and worms underneath his skin and eating at rotten flesh, poking their way out his body before burrowing deeper to lay eggs. His body becomes a home for intrusive disgusting bugs.
Michael heaved for a shuddering breath and shook his weak head frantically, though it would not be useful as he’d sooner rather than later have to accept the reality of it and take care of it. Rather deal with it now than in the future with thousands of maggots eating away at him. Destroying whatever his decayed body had preserved. And so, he forced his eyes up to see his horrific appearance. Unable to stop himself as a scream resounded from his torn throat, able to watch and see as limp cords struggled to move with his scream. If that hadn’t been enough to make him vomit, the hole traveling from his throat to low on his stomach should’ve. The worst part is that he could clearly see inside his body and the blackened void. The most he could see was shredded organs, a goopy mess slowly leaking out from the large void. It was in no way a clean cut as the scooper had left the line up his body shredded, pieces of flesh hanging uselessly.
Michaels eyes traveled down his body, watching with various large injuries from where the animatronics had struggled to fit inside his body, seeming to rip at the seams from just how compact the fit was.
His eyes finally traveled up to his face, looking into the black void of eyes, only white pin pricks to be seen against black and purple. The realization that Michael had lost his eyes, yet could still see was horrific. It wasn’t normal, none of this was normal. None of this should be okay, a freak of nature, something that should only exist in children’s horror stories.
A terrified scream sounded through the air as he fell backwards against the wall, back pressing against the gray ruined wall, mysterious stains from the animatronics staining what was once perfect white that he painted with Jeremy.
Maybe it was a good thing that Jeremy left before he could see what Michael had become.
Revolting hands moved to touch his face and the large hole that ripped into the left side of his teeth, somehow they weren't knocked off from when the animatronics escaped from his torn jaw. Ruining what Jeremy had once called beautiful, once gently cradling his face and kissing softly. Michael preferred when his main insecurity was that he looked like his father, now he was horrifying to look at.
His body slowly moved to slide down against the wall, now seated on the cold and dirty tiled flooring, items spewed out around him, some of it was food and others were items he had placed around his home.
The food was quite odd but Michael did remember they would talk on about fitting in, doing what humans did and more. Meaning they must’ve tried to walk around in his flesh, taking showers and eating, anything they dreamed that humans did. God that thought was horrible, the power those animatronics had over him. It wasn’t even like it was easy for him to exist in the back of his mind, constantly feeling and stuck in his own memories that never seemed to end. An eternal punishment for the hell he put others through, it was deserved in the end. Maybe that’s why he stopped fighting it so soon, accepting his new reality instead of trying to kick his way to the surface and grow control of his own body.
It’s not like it would’ve worked anyways, they were stronger and had more grip over his body than Michael’s simple mind. He had no power over them, and so he gave up and let Ennard do what they pleased.
There was no right choice on what to do, well. That was a lie, he could’ve listened to Jeremy, he could’ve left when things got dangerous, he could’ve moved out the way of the scooper that marked it’s way into his skin.
He should’ve listened to Jeremy, the other just wanted Michael to be safe and sound. Knowing that the pizzeria chain covered up murders, even covering up what happened to him.
Sloppily Michael forced himself to sit up with a weak wheeze, though no air entered his lungs as they were now a gross mess of liquid loitering inside his body, it was a good thing he could no longer smell or else that would’ve just added to the torturous experience of living in his rotted body.
His limbs slowly moving to grab the med kit that laid sprawled out across from him, possibly from the animatronics trying to fix the most roughened up patches that crossed his skin.
Taking a deep breath, Michael began to see himself up. Though he was no good at it in any way, the stitches wide spaced and crooked and tugging at his skin uncomfortably. Luckily he couldn’t feel it but having to watch was disgusting. Michael knew he should’ve cleaned all the guts but he couldn’t take another minute of having to look at the hole again.
It wasn’t therapeutic in any way, the constant moving of his fingers kept his attention centered and focus. Though it didn’t make him feel any better, not in any way calming down the heaving of his useless chest.
Maybe that’s all he was, useless. Useless to save his sister, useless as a boyfriend, useless as a person. And now he got his karma, the act of revenge he should’ve gotten sooner after what he didn’t his poor brother.
In a way, it was a circle of agony known as the Afton family. Nobody would leave alive, nobody would leave safe.
Evan was gone, hopefully not in a rotten Fred-Bear, his sister lingering the streets and sewers all alone, his father hopefully dead in an alleyway by now.
It pitiful how his finger shook as each sobbed pulled from the broken throat, no liquid coming from the void in his eyes. And god did that hurt, the thing he bullied his brother for the most. The thing Michael did the most after, he had lost. The most human thing one could have and he could no longer do that.
Not even bothering to finish the stitches on his body, Michael sobbed as he wrapped his arms around weak gangly legs, though there was no comfort and warmth like a real hug. Just a solidifying fact of how alone he was, how much of a monster he is.