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Finally. After all these years of jealousy, rage and hate.
Finally, FINALLY has HE gotten what he always WANTED to DO.
William grinned. It wasn’t just a false, performative grin but this, for the first time in months, was a genuine grin.
Henry was knocked out, lying on the floor in the safe room like a swatted fly. Finally, William can FINALLY do what he always WANTED to do.
He opened a small vent on the left of the abandoned Spring Bonnie suit. This vent was where he hid his emergency weapons.
He carefully picked up the knife, still smeared in old blood, and joyfully walked towards Henry.
He leaned down.
And with full force, he punctured Henry’s neck like there was no tomorrow. He remained to stab, more and more, leaving a pool of blood and a fountain of gore.
He slid his knife down to Henry’s chest. He stabbed with full force, breaking the rib cage that had earlier protected Henry’s worthless organs. He cut so deep, that the edge of his fingertips could now feel right through Henry’s layers of skin.
He grinned, feeling the full thrill of FINALLY getting what HE wanted, and what Henry DESERVED. He cut, and cut, as if Henry was a freshly baked pizza.
Eventually, William sliced so deep he could now dig his hand to reach for Henry’s heart. And he did, and that just made him much, much, much happier. He grabbed the heart, and threw it aside to where a Freddy mask was blankly lying.
He dug like a rabbit building a burrow, he wanted Henry absolutely gutted and dead. Sure, the bones scratching his palms and hand hurt, but that didn’t matter to William. He only cared about his goal, and that was to finally let out Williams suffering, agony, jealous and absolute HATE out.
He hated Henry so much, that just the slight gaze of Henry’s ginger beard, or hazel eyes filled him with absolute malice. He despised Henry so much, so, so, much that even compared, William seemed like he actually liked Michael.
Henry was now fully gutted like a fish. He had no organs left, other than William’s lazy effort to rip out the small intestine. He didn’t care though. He just wanted Henry to suffer. Henry’s broken glasses were smeared in dark red blood, cracked and broken just like how pathetic Henry always was.
Henry is dead.
William lives.
And this, this moment, this thrill, this sight wad the only thing that ever brought William this much joy. He won. The play is over, because the script of the least favourite actor was finished. And here is William, once more successful and better than what Henry could ever be.
William let out a hard, raspy, laugh. He laughed, more and more, until he was out of breath. His arms, palms, and elbows roared with numbness and pain, but William didn’t care.
Finally, the moment has arrived. Finally.