1985

1983, July

"THREE!" William stopped short as the bullies hauled the weeping child up, holding his head inside of the Fredbear animatronic's open mouth.

William already knew what was happening.

As the child squirmed and thrashed and cried, trying to get away, his head brushed over the same spring locks multiple times, and his tears slipped over the jaw mechanisms. Then, as his head hit against one of the spring locks, the metallic coil shook and eventually gave way; the spring locks around it suddenly released, and the yellow fur- now broken apart from the child's crying- crumbled over his forehead. The kid's tears pooled in the underside of the mouth, and multiple spring locks in that area shook violently, whirring, before snapping and retreating into the jaws of the mask, its lower side coming up violently, nothing left to hold it back.

William Afton watched in horror as Fredbear's jaw clamped down over his own son's head.

The metallic snap! of the animatronic's mouth sent a ringing sound into everyone's ears; though barely anyone actually saw what happened. William marched towards his older son, Michael Afton. William grabbed his gray tank top's shoulders and pinned him against the wall, staring at him with rage-filled eyes. Then William lost his life-long composure and screamed at him.

"WHAT HAVE YOU... DO YOU SEE WHAT... LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

But he only saw the hollow gaze of a void-eyed Fox mask looking back at him... not even the father could see Michael's eyes.

"I hope you know what this means for you," William said, having gained some composure- albeit, furious composure- but before he could even pull the item out of his pocket, Henry Emily grabbed him from behind and wrenched him off of Michael.

William lost it again when he realized that he was being pulled away from his remaining son. He screamed curses at Michael, at Henry, at everyone. William tried to get away, and it looked like he was climbing across a flat floor. And Michael Afton, he just stared at his father. He was invincible when he wore the mask; no one could touch him. Nothing could touch him. Nothing, of course, except for the springlocks that hurt his head whenever he put the mask on; at least, that was what Michael thought before his father took him back home.