Intern {Five Nights at Freddy's Fanfiction}

48) ...and often leave...

Warning (I guess): Eh, alot of kissing and stuff. You get my point.

* * * *

"He's right. This doesn't involve you, Eleanor." Mike swallowed hard. "You need to get out while you still can."

Chica wasn't paying any attention to us so I found myself squirming over to Mike's position. It hurt, and I was practically using half of my body, but I made it. I wrapped a hand tight around his leg and refused to let go.

"I'm not leaving without you. I'm gonna undo the binds and we're gonna get outta here." I said reassuringly. My fingers struggled with the stubborn knot tied around him but I almost got it.

"You can obviously move...so leave. I can't walk even if I try. I'll just drag you down with me."

"Michael Schmidt. You are not going to drag me down. I'm getting out of here with you." I frowned, gripping his sleeve as tight as my unstable hand could muster. He was turning weak...and it was my turn to protect him. "I don't care what happens to me."

"You sh-should. You sh-should care what happens t-to y-you." Mike stuttered shakily. I couldn't see his eyes, but as soon as I heard the shivering breath he sucked in, I knew he was crying. "I c-care what h-happens to y-you."

"Mike..." I gripped the front of his bloody shirt in my fingers, flinching at the gross squish the fabric made, and whispered out a phrase I never thought I would. "So do I. But we've gotta get outta here. Mike...look at me please."

He did exactly what I said and lifted his head up.

"We're gonna get out of here together. I'm not going without you." I whispered. Despite the pain, the awkward angle, and my fear, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck into one more embrace. "I won't leave without you."

"ELEANOR!"

Pain blinded me. It coursed through every vein and every orifice. I wanted to scream but all I could manage out was a soft yelp. I collapsed into Mike's lap, looking up at him for some kind of guidance. What had happened? Why?

A blow to the stomach seemed to answer my question. I toppled to the floor and looked up to see a familiar face.

"That's it. That's the final straw." Randy growled, trying to grip my back. I struggled a bit but then realized he was trying to get a piece of metal lodged in my back. I screamed when he pulled it out and let everyone get a look at it.

My kitchen knife. The one I had stolen from the butcher's block. Mine.

Randy had literally stabbed me in the back with my own knife and was going to kill me.

The knife, itself, hadn't punctured that deeply. Only about an inch. But it still hurt.

Randy aimed for a blow to my neck, angling the knife high above his head. Chica screeched and Mike screamed. Both of their cries sounding similar.

I wouldn't let him kill me.

I gasped and used my good leg to deliver one swift kick at his legs. Thankfully, I had enough strength behind the blow to sweep his feet out from under him. He crashed on top of me, the blade stabbing right next to my head and nicking my ear.

Before he could attempt another stab, I was able to force him off. He still had his weapon grasped tightly in his hand, but then I recognized the bump on his lower back.

The gun.

I never thought I would willingly get on top of Randy for any reason but...there I was. I straddled his upper back and leaned forward to grab his concealed weapon. It took me a second to get a good grip on the hard object before yanking it out from underneath his shirt.