Chapter Text
The Yellow Rabbit had gone hunting. He was luring a child, and Vanessa didn't know what to do. So many children had already died at her father's hands. She couldn't let another one die. She had to do something. She had to save that child.
She got up from the birthday table and thought of a plan. She had to think fast. But it was then that she heard Charlotte. She was desperately shouting to the parents of those children that one of those children had disappeared, lured by the Yellow Rabbit.
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO…
Her mind was screaming. I couldn't let Charlotte get involved in this. She couldn't let Charlotte die. Not like this. She had to protect her.
Tired of pleading for help and having her pleas fall on deaf ears, Charlotte decided that she would save the child herself. Vanessa admired that about her. She was brave. But she had to stop her. She knew what her father was capable of. She didn't want to lose her.
Vanessa ran with only one thing on her mind: “Protect Charlotte.”
“Charlotte! Don’t!” Vanessa screamed, gripping Charlotte's arm tightly. She had never treated Charlotte roughly, and it pained her to do so. But she knew she had to be firm. She needed Charlotte to hear her.
They stared at each other for a few seconds, and Vanessa believed Charlotte would finally break free. She was a good person, Vanessa knew, and she knew she wanted to save that child.
Vanessa wanted to do it too.
But Vanessa didn't want Charlotte to die.
She knew it was selfish. That the child had to be saved. But she didn't want to lose the only person, besides Michael, she could trust.
She wanted her to live.
"I saw the Yellow Rabbit take a child."
Vanessa was trembling, but she wanted to appear strong.
"Charlotte, please don't go." It was all she could do. Beg. If only she were stronger and could stand up to her father. None of this would be happening if she were. But she wasn't. And now she had to beg Charlotte to go against her very nature of helping others. “I know about the boy. But please, don’t go.” Her voice was breaking, and her eyes stung; she was on the verge of tears. “Please…”
Vanessa knew it wasn’t fair to that poor child, and that was tormenting her, but she needed to convince Charlotte.
Charlotte glanced toward the door. Vanessa knew what she was thinking. Time was running out to save him. She turned to Vanessa and saw confusion, seriousness, and despair on Charlotte’s face. All of this was tearing her apart. Both of them.
“Why don’t you want me to go help that boy?” Charlotte asked, and Vanessa was speechless. She didn’t know what to say. The truth hurt. The truth made her feel guilty. “That boy needs help.” Charlotte’s words were harsh.
Vanessa shook her head. She didn’t want any of this. “You’re right! You’re right!” She felt the first tear welling in her right eye. “But please, don’t go…”
Charlotte looked back at the door and then at Vanessa. “Vanessa…” Her voice was less harsh but just as serious, and also tinged with worry. “What’s going on…?”
She knew Charlotte was trying to understand the situation. She knew that, from her perspective, it was strange that Vanessa didn’t want her to go help that child. And Vanessa hated herself for it. She wanted everything to be different. She wanted to live a life where she didn’t have to worry about murdered children. She wanted to live a life where no one had died because of her father. She wished she could have been strong enough to protect them…
And yet now she was sacrificing that child’s life to save Charlotte.
What kind of person was she for going against what she had promised herself…?
She felt so hypocritical…
She felt awful…
But something compelled her to continue, to not let Charlotte die.
“I’ll explain later, but please, don’t go.”
She kept pleading, and Charlotte looked back at the door. Vanessa looked too.
Time was almost up…
Silence fell between them, and Charlotte relaxed. “I won’t go…” She looked at her. “But you owe me an explanation, Nessa.”
Nessa. That was the nickname Charlotte had given her. A nickname she loved hearing. But now it had given her a pang.
She was afraid her decision would disappoint Charlotte, and she wouldn’t want anything to do with her anymore…
Vanessa let go of Charlotte, and they both went back to the birthday party. Vanessa really felt bad for the boy. She hoped his soul would soon reach the afterlife and he could rest. But there was also a part of her that felt good about having managed to protect Charlotte from imminent death.
A mother was desperately searching for her son while Vanessa drank a Faz Cola with Charlotte. Charlotte frowned, and Vanessa tensed. That mother, who moments before had been gossiping with the other mothers, oblivious to her son, had just been confronted with a harsh dose of reality.
Vanessa felt terrible.
She still felt guilty.
And when she looked into Charlotte's eyes, Charlotte was still questioning her about exactly what she knew.
That same evening at dinner, Vanessa noticed her father was in a bad mood. She didn't understand why. He had gotten away with kidnapping that boy. But no, he was irritated. As if something hadn't gone according to plan.
When they finished dinner and her mother went to put Michael to bed, her father stopped Vanessa. His fingers gripped her arm tightly. Vanessa felt pain, but she wasn't going to scream. She wasn't going to beg. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her desperate. "You're very clever, Vanny," his voice, though a whisper, was authoritative. "Too clever for your own good." His grip tightened, and she knew a bruise would appear.
She looked into her father's eyes. She wanted to defy him, but just seeing those bluish-gray eyes made her tremble. She hated herself for not being braver. She hated herself for still being afraid of her father.
“But you know what?” her father started again, and she was terrified of what was going through his mind at that moment. “If you want to play, let’s play, but I assure you, you’ll end up losing, Vanny.”
She hated him calling her that. The name wasn’t ugly, but it was the way he pronounced it that bothered her. It was like when he spoke about the Yellow Rabbit costume. With that tone that implied she was a tool. That’s what she was to him, a mere tool to serve his monstrous plans.
And she hated it.
And it terrified her.
She didn’t want this.
She wanted to stand up to him. She wanted to be strong enough to stop him.
“Interfering with my plans comes at a price.” He spoke again, and she was terrified of what that price would be. “But for now, live in the little fantasy that everything is okay.” Vanessa felt a chill run down her spine. “But you’ll see. One day it will all fall apart, and you’ll learn that it’s best to obey me.”
Her father released her, and she felt a great sense of relief. She walked away from him, feeling his gaze on her, analyzing her movements, her reactions. She tried to maintain her composure, to stay strong, but she truly felt she was failing miserably. She could barely look at him, trembling with fear.
How could she possibly protect them if she couldn’t even stand firm?
Her father smiled mockingly and then left, leaving her with her mind trying to process the poisonous words he had just spoken to her.
That night Vanessa couldn't sleep. She replayed in her mind what her father had told her. What was that promise he'd made to her?
Would he try to kill Charlotte?
She hoped not.
Was Charlotte his target from the start?
That last question echoed in Vanessa's head over and over.
Her father had told her she'd interfered with his plans. She'd saved Charlotte.
She didn't want to admit it, but it was becoming increasingly clear that Charlotte had been her father's target all along. But then, why lure a random child?
Vanessa replayed what had happened in her mind.
Charlotte would go. She would try to rescue the child, getting away from them and leaving herself completely vulnerable.
It was all a plan to lure Charlotte!
Vanessa began to tremble as tears of fear streamed down her cheeks. She felt fear. She felt anger. But above all, helplessness.
I wish everything were different… I wish everything were different… I wish everything were different… I wish everything were different… I wish everything were different… I wish everything were different…
She repeated it over and over, hoping for a miracle. Hoping everything would change. But fate is capricious. And it seemed this was what had been planned for Vanessa: to be just a tool of that monster she was forced to call “father.”
“Vanessa, wake up, we have to go to school.”
Vanessa turned her head at the sound of Michael’s voice and a soft knock on the door. She hadn’t slept a wink all night. She couldn’t. Fear and uncertainty gnawed at her, making her only thought about escaping. About running away with Michael and having a good life.
“I’m coming, Michael,” Vanessa replied, reluctantly getting out of bed.
Her arm still ached. She looked at it and, sure enough, some conspicuous bruises had appeared…
Vanessa hid them. Like all her pain, she tried to get on with the day that had just begun.
She opened her closet and looked at her clothes. Some were pink, some blue, some yellow, and some purple. Dad liked her to wear that color, purple; he said it was the Afton family’s signature. She, on the other hand, only saw it as another way he tried to control her life.
That's why she liked pink so much. Because even though it was a color similar to purple and played into her father's game of "the Afton family must be represented by purple," it distanced itself as much as possible from that color. A form of rebellion. At least if she didn't have the strength to confront her father face to face, she would do it this way.
She grabbed her pink shirt and a pair of jeans and got dressed.
She went downstairs for breakfast, and there was her mother serving it. Vanessa didn't understand her. She was a strong, courageous woman. She had heard stories from her mother about when she lived with her maternal grandparents. She was strong. She had been through a lot and had managed to keep going. She had everything she needed to rebel against her father. But even so, she didn't.
Was that a sign that, even if Vanessa managed to be brave, she would never be able to defeat her father?
Vanessa sat down next to Michael. “Your toast, dear.” Her mother handed it to her, and as she did, Vanessa looked her in the eyes.
Was she being unfair by wanting her mother to do something?
She didn't want to blame someone who wasn't responsible for this situation, especially since her mother didn't know her father was a murderer, so she pushed those thoughts away and took the first piece of toast. She ate it in silence.
Her father arrived with the newspaper in his hand. He sat down at the table and, after waiting for his mother to pour his morning coffee, began to read the newspaper.
Silence reigned among the four of them. Michael seemed the one who most wanted to speak. But he didn't. They all knew that when William read the newspaper, everyone had to remain silent. Only William had the power to speak. Only he.
“I'll be late today,” her father remarked. It wasn't an apology. It was a statement.
Michael looked somewhat apologetically at his father, and Vanessa looked at him fearfully. What did he have to do that would keep him busier than usual? Was he going to kill more children?
She took the other piece of toast, but she didn't feel like eating anymore. She put it back on the plate and stared at him, lost in thought.
No one could get up until Dad gave permission; that was another one of the house rules. Unwritten rules, but unbreakable.
The seconds ticked by slowly, very slowly. Vanessa hated these damn rules. She knew Mom and Michael did too. But no one dared contradict Dad. After what felt like an eternity, her father finally put the newspaper down on the table and stood up, leaving without saying goodbye.
Vanessa didn't want to look at the newspaper. She was afraid of finding what she knew she would find. But finally, her eyes fell on the headline: “Boy disappears at Freddy’s last afternoon”
She tried to pay attention in class, but she felt her eyes slowly closing. She should have slept. She wished she had.
But she couldn't.
Vanessa pinched herself. She had to stay awake. She had to do well in her classes. She had to if she wanted to run away from home and make a future for herself.
At nine years old, she didn't know exactly what she wanted to be. But one thing was clear: whatever she was, it would be far away from her father.
The bell rang, and everyone ran toward the playground. Vanessa lingered in her chair for a few extra seconds, a mixture of fighting off sleep and trying to think about what she would do when her father wanted to kill again.
The teacher had already left, which gave Vanessa the freedom to stay there as long as she needed.
A soft knock on the door caught Vanessa's attention. She looked in its direction, and just seeing Charlotte made her heart race. “Hey.” She tried to smile as she approached where Vanessa was sitting. Charlotte took the chair in front of her and sat opposite Vanessa. Neither of them said a word, and Vanessa’s heart was racing. She was nervous, very nervous. She still didn’t know how to explain to her the reason for her actions and words the day before. “How are you?”
She spent a few seconds trying to calm herself. She had to sound natural. “I’m fine,” she answered after a few seconds. Her voice trembled slightly, but she hoped Charlotte wouldn’t mind.
“I’m glad.”
They both remained silent, unable to bring up what had happened the day before. Vanessa was afraid of what would happen when the truth came out. Was she even ready to tell the truth?
“The news about the missing boy was in the newspapers,” Charlotte began.
Vanessa felt her hands tremble. She looked down, unable to meet Charlotte’s gaze.
I know…
“They don’t know anything about him yet. They’ve tried searching the surrounding area, but so far, nothing,” Charlotte continued.
They won’t find him…
“The police called the house yesterday. It seems they’re going to search the place today,” Charlotte said again, seeing that Vanessa still hadn’t said anything.
Dad will be a while to get home… He… Is he planning to kill those police officers? But that would raise suspicions…
“Vanessa.” She jumped slightly when she felt Charlotte’s hand on hers. Finally, she looked at Charlotte. “What happened yesterday? Why were you so desperate that I wouldn’t help that boy?” Charlotte’s voice wasn’t harsh, but it was serious and full of concern.
Vanessa trembled, and Charlotte noticed it, looking at her with concern. “It’s… complicated… very complicated…”
Charlotte sighed. “I know you’re going through a tough time. I saw it in your eyes. I’ve been seeing it ever since we met.” Vanessa felt embarrassed that Charlotte had noticed. “You’re always on edge, like you’re afraid something might happen…”
I’m sorry…
“I don’t know what you’re going through,” Charlotte continued. “But I’d love to know. So you’d have someone to talk to, someone to confide in. So you wouldn’t have to carry that weight alone.”
Vanessa felt a real comfort at Charlotte’s words. She knew they were sincere. That she wanted to help.
But she was afraid of putting her in danger…
Charlotte had already been targeted by her father once, and she was afraid that if she spoke to her, her father would target her again. At that moment, Vanessa remembered the words William had said to her the night before.
He would strike again…
But there was also that aspect Charlotte mentioned. If she told her the truth, she could share all her thoughts with her. She could have someone to talk to about this.
She weighed up what the best decision would be.
But then Vanessa understood that whatever sher did, if he still wanted to end Charlotte's life, he would try to do it again. So Vanessa took her hand. She would take Charlotte's proposal.
She glanced toward the door, remembering that they were in that classroom. That anyone could overhear their conversation if they were behind them. But there didn't seem to be anyone there. The children's joyful shouts could be heard in the courtyard next to the building. That gave Vanessa the final clue. They were alone and could talk about this in peace.
"My father..." she began, a lump forming in her throat. "He's not a good person."
Charlotte looked at her, puzzled. She really hadn't expected it. To be fair, who would have? William Afton, Charlotte's father's business partner and friend, being a bad person.
"What do you mean by that?" Charlotte questioned her, but Vanessa didn't feel it was to doubt her, but rather out of a desire to know the truth.
"He..." She began to speak, but she really felt her throat closing up. "He is..."
Vanessa felt Charlotte's hand gently caress hers. "It's okay, Vanessa, I'm here."
Vanessa was truly grateful for those words. Charlotte always managed to make her feel better. So, she took a deep breath and, after slowly exhaling, told her what was happening.
"He's a murderer, Charlotte." She was about to shout it out of the pain she felt knowing this. But she knew she had to be careful. Even though it was noisy outside, she shouldn't push her luck and risk someone overhearing her.
Charlotte's eyes widened, her mouth falling open as her pupils narrowed. Vanessa understood perfectly. She had had the same reaction when she learned the truth a few months earlier.
This time, Vanessa gently stroked Charlotte's fingers. "Yesterday, when you saw the Yellow Rabbit take that boy, what you saw was my father luring him to kill him."
Charlotte still didn't speak. She could only stammer sounds, trying to find the words.
“He’s a monster, Charlotte… He’s killed so many children already, and he’ll keep doing it…”
“W-Why?” Charlotte hesitated.
This was the first time Vanessa had seen Charlotte like this. But she understood. This was insane, and processing it all was difficult.
“I don’t know,” Vanessa said. “But nothing justifies his actions.”
“I know,” Charlotte quickly replied. Perhaps out of fear that Vanessa would think she was justifying him. She knew she wasn’t. “I was just asking because, God, this is so crazy!” Charlotte immediately regretted shouting and looked around to see if anyone had heard her. “Sorry.”
Vanessa shook her head. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault. I completely understand how you feel.”
Vanessa lowered her gaze, and for a few seconds, the images of that day flashed through her mind, the day she saw her father kill that little girl. She couldn’t have been more than eight years old. She had curly brown hair, though at that moment it was completely stained with the girl’s blood. Vanessa remembered letting out a stifled scream when she saw the scene and backing away. She wanted to run away, as fast as she could. She wanted to believe she had imagined it all and that it wasn’t real. At that moment, when she saw that scene, she still didn’t know who was behind the Yellow Rabbit costume. But when he slowly turned his head, looking at her through one of the mascot’s eyes, and, wielding that bloody knife, spoke to her, she knew with horror who it was. “I’m so proud of you, Vanny. You’ve just stepped right into the rabbit hole. Now tell me, what will you do?”
Vanessa wanted to push those thoughts out of her head. She wanted to return to reality, far away from her father.
“Vanessa, are you okay?”
It was Charlotte’s words that pulled her from her thoughts, and she was grateful. She nodded and gently stroked Charlotte’s hands again. “He’s the worst person in the world. I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, why he kills. I never will. But Charlotte… Yesterday, when he was luring that boy, he knew you had seen him.”
“What…?” She paled. Her brain couldn’t process what she had just heard.
Vanessa stroked those hands again. “He was luring you… It was all a trap… He…” She swallowed, and Charlotte trembled. “He wanted to…” Charlotte trembled again. Vanessa took both her hands, trying to calm her, though she knew that by the time she finished the sentence, Charlotte wouldn’t be calm. “He wanted to kill you.”
Charlotte froze, feeling the last of her color drain from her skin, leaving her completely numb. Tears began to well up in her eyes, and Vanessa wanted to hug her. She wanted to tell her that everything would be alright. That the worst was over. But she would be lying. This wouldn't end until her father was far away from them, and that was a very difficult prospect at that moment. So she just continued to caress her hands, afraid to promise something she knew might never come to pass.