One Night at Freddy's

Another Scream

Mike's POV

6 o'clock couldn't come fast enough. I couldn't do anything to help Katrina until then. I sighed. That is, if I don't want to die. I looked at my hands, disappointed in how useless I was. I tried the cameras, but the only camera disabled was the stage, so I knew that's where they took her.

A shrill scream yanked me from my thoughts. I grit my teeth together. 'This is my fault,' I thought, 'I let him take her.'

"Shit," I said aloud, "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!" My hands curled into fists. I looked up at the poster of Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica with the word "Celebrate!" across the top. Another scream, this time it was longer but it seemed even quieter after. I felt almost certain that she was dead now. What am I going to tell her mom? Would I even tell her? Could I just avoid the subject? But, if I didn't say anything, what would the guilt do to me? How could I have let-

A yell, loud enough for the source to have been right next to my ear, halted the seemingly endless stream of questions. I blinked. She was still alive! Thank goodness. I let out a breath and slumped in my chair. I checked the time. 5:45 a.m. Soon. Soon I can save her. She just has to hold on a little longer. I was practically counting the seconds. Both of my legs bounced impatiently.

'C'mon, c'mon, c'mon,' I thought, 'Hang in there, Katrina, please.' I hoped to hear something else, another scream, a yell, a cry, anything, but there was only the annoying whir of the fan, which I had turned on to try to calm myself. My eyebrows drew together with worry. One minute left. 'Hold on...'

Finally, it was 6. I shot out of my seat and darted out the hall, slightly stumbling. I sprinted, barely making the turns without running into a wall. I stopped and panted in the doorway of the stage. The animatronics were all in their proper positions on the stage, inactive.

On the floor, just in front of the stage, lay a large, moldy, yellow suit with its head to the side. A human head was protruding from the body of the suit. Long, dark hair spread about their head. Katrina.

I stepped closer and held my breath. Blood pooled around her head and covered her bottom lip and chin. The was an open wound on her neck, and I could see something shiny deep within it. I moved some hair from her face. Her eyes were open slightly, but they had this empty look in them, lifeless. I gulped and pushed two fingers gently on the side of her neck. A soft, slow beat tapped my fingers. I sighed. Suddenly, feeling an urgency, I pulled out my phone and called for an ambulance. I held the phone in between my head and my shoulder while I described where we were and flipped Katrina over. I yanked at the large panel on the back of the suit and, once it popped off, threw it in the corner. As gently as I could, I pulled Katrina's body from the suit, one limb at a time. There were long slashes on the sides of her jeans from the middle of her thigh to the middle of her calf. The material around each hole was soaked in blood because of a gash in her leg. The same cut was in each of her arms, soaking the material of her light blue long sleeved t-shirt.

I picked her up and put her on my back. I adjusted to the added weight and her head lolled onto my shoulder. Warm blood soaked into my shirt and I ignored it as I ran for the front door.

As soon as I stepped outside, the ambulance had pulled into the parking lot. I still had my phone in between my shoulder and my head, but I relaxed my shoulder anyway and decided I'd pick up my phone later. EMTs ran out of ambulance and quickly took Katrina from me. I stooped down, picked up my phone, and hurried into my own car.

I followed the ambulance to the hospital, worrying the whole way.

I just really hope she doesn't die.