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Dust.
Blood.
Metal.
All he could ever feel, all he could ever smell in this nightmare.
Over, and over again.
First it was by Funtime Foxy, for not checking the cameras correctly. Then it was Rockstar Freddy, and so on.
He could not stand a single day in this hell.
Sometimes, he swore he heard children’s laughter; mocking him, watching him suffer, and driving him insane.
He was already insane, no?
But then, he slowly improved. He could make it to 4AM, then 5AM and finally 6AM.
But, something felt off.
Was this a hell designed for him?
But yet, how could he die? He injected himself with remnant countless, upon countless of times. Even if by now, he would look like a shrivelled up corpse, he would always come back.
“You did it.”
He jumped. This was the first time he heard someone, anyone, in this hell.
The voice erupted in cruel, childish laughter.
“Who are you?”
He asked.
“The one you shouldn’t have killed.” It answered.
And in an instant, the hell returned to its original state. But it was much harder, much faster, much more difficult than before.
And it was, again, and again, and again.
The worst part of this, was when he received a “new high-score” in this place. For some reason, there would play videos, videos about the old Fazbear’s animatronics. But the thing that bothered him truly the most, was the one with an anthropomorphic Toy Chica, merely existing. He hated her, so, so, so much.
Honestly, instead of having to watch that “cutscene” he would rather deal with Henry. He hated Henry, but if he has to see a teenage highschooler version of Chica, he would rather talk to Henry.
It never got any better. Once, he accidentally shined the flashlight on Nightmare Balloon Boy, and he got killed. Again, and again, and again.
He got the point already, yes, he killed a few children here and there, but was it not worth it? Surely, his efforts were not in vain.
Scraptrap. Himself. Again.
Springtrap.
Himself.
Over, and over again.
HE could no longer stand this anymore. HE wanted out.
And again, the laughter. The constant, damn, laughter.
“You’re not getting out.”
That voice.
“What do you want from me?! Please. Let me go.”
It laughed, yet again.
“You are as blind as a sheep, Afton.”
He clenched his fists, banging the desk.
“Then tell me! Tell me already, why am I here!”
She let out a fake sigh. “Oh, you’re so entertaining, never truly getting the point, I see. Truly, how wrapped are you in your ego?”
He grunted, trying to calm himself down. “Just tell me.”
She did not answer, yet she only laughed.
And this time, he got jumpscared by Fredbear.
He needed answers, he was just as hungry as a starving orphan, he was greedy. He knew, he was in hell, but why, and who was this child, mocking him?
Was it his Elizabeth, whom he cared so much to make a beautiful machine for? Evan?
Or was it, was it one of his victims.
“Just tell me your name! Please!”
He screamed, hoping for a answer.
Nothing. Not a single response, why is it that when you need that annoying, God forsaken voice, its gone?
Circus Baby killed him.
Withered Chica.
He couldn’t do this anymore. He screamed, he screamed in anger. He wanted out. This is absolute torture.
“Torture? You would know a thing or two about it, wouldn’t you?”
The voice returned, laughing to itself.
“Stop!”
It didn’t listen.
He sighed. This was worthless.
He’s not going to deal with a child’s temper tantrum. He’s going, and will find a way out.
12AM.
It was the usual. He was planning to get a way out. He put the Freddy mask on, and he attempted to go out the left door.
1AM.
But, it was a regret. Nightmare was waiting for him.
12AM. Again.
He tried the right door. He could only be in the middle of the hall before somehow, Freddy killed him.
He tried the vents, he got killed by himself. He could simply, not exit this office.
Eventually, he gave up. He stopped “playing.” He did not use the cameras, he did not flash the light at Phantom Freddy, he gave up. Simple.
He would die, over and over, over and over. Same 50 animatronics, again and again.
“Is it getting boring for you yet?”
He asked, not expecting much of an answer.
“Not quite. But you know what?”
In an instant, he felt jaws close around him, he saw a shadow of Toy Bonnie appear in his office. He got killed again, again, and again.
This was driving him insane.
So, he’s in a loop. Even giving up, was annoying to him. There was nothing he can do anyways.
“Whoever you may be, could you just show mercy?”
“Nah.”
He sighed. Obviously nothing.
“Would you rather burn in hell tortured by demons, or die here?” It asked, mockingly.
He hated both of these options. He wanted out.
“I want out.” He responded.
She laughed once more.
And it looped, over and over, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over…..
….over and over…….
and over and over and over…..