One Night at Freddy's

Violation

"Wha . . . How . . . I never . . . When . . . I didn't tell you my name," I gaped at him. Purple guy--I remembered he liked purple--smirked at me.

"Are you sure?" He questioned.

I tried to remember as far back to our one conversation. "Positive," I tried to say firmly, but it came out in a
whisper.

"I asked you how you're feeling," he crossed his arms.

"I was fine, but then you came to visit," I muttered.

"Oooh that hurt," Purple Guy put a hand to his chest, feigning hurt.

"What do you want?" I asked, looking anywhere but at him.

"I just wanted to check on you," he pulled the same chair Nolan had sat in up to my bed, "By the way who was that kid that just left?" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "Such a nice kid."

My jaw tightened. "Yeah," I muttered.

"I'm sorry, what was his name?" Purple Guy put a hand to his ear, as if he couldn't hear what I was saying.

I smirked at him. "I don't feel like telling you," I quoted his words. Purple Guy's face grew dark and his left eyebrow twitched. I almost giggled at the sight.

"You know, you really irk me."

"So leave," I raised my arm, the one in a cast past the elbow and the closest to the door, and pointed as best as I could in that direction.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"You're childish."

"Speak for yourself."

"At least I'm not a stalker."

"What makes me a stalker?"

"How'd you know I was in this hospital? How'd you know my name? How'd you know I was even hurt? A little birdie told you?"

"Uh . . ."

"Exactly. Now get out." this time I jerked my head towards the door.

"I don't feel like it," he always has this smirk plastered on his face. I had the urge to smack it off his face.

"You don't do anything you don't feel like doing then, huh?"

"Yup," his smirk grew. I could already hear the satisfying smack my hand would make when it connects with his face.

"Seriously, you need to leave," I was growing uncomfortable.

"Nah I think I'll--" I slapped him. Hard.

"Will you leave now?" My hand hovered next to his face. A red handprint showed on Purple Guy's face.

"Whatever," Purple Guy grunted and stood, kicking the chair in the relative area it was originally. "See you later, Katrina," he winked and left the room, closing the door behind him.

A nurse had come in to check on me again and asked about my neck.

"Have you felt anything odd in your neck?" She asked, a sweet smile on her face.

"No, nothing at all," I lied, "Could I have some sort of clock in here?" I asked, changing the subject.

The nurse's face twisted with confusion. "Um, okay, we'll see what we can do about that."

"Thank you," I smiled at her.

"Well it's pretty late now, so get some rest okay?" the nurse said, heading to the door.

"Yeah," I laid back on my cot and stared at the ceiling. I was sick of the same ceiling, sick of the same white tiles, sick of the same white walls, interrupted once by a wooden shelf that held several magazines.

The nurse entered my room again holding a small black clock, about the size of an average alarm clock.

"Here, it glows in the dark, so you can see it at night too," she looked around the room for a place to put it.

"Um, do you think I will be able to walk around?" I asked.

"Hmm? Oh, sure you can, just don't leave this room."

"Ahem," I cleared my throat and gestured to the IV in my arm.

"Oh, that was supposed to be taken out a while ago, sorry," the nurse hurried to the other side of me and set the clock on the floor. She lifted some tape and slid the needle out of my arm. She patted the inside of my arm and smiled. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"I'm just going to leave the clock on the floor, so you can pick it up whenever."

"Thank you."

"Good night," the nurse smiled and left for the night.

I rolled over, finally able to lay on my side comfortably. I closed my eyes and sank into a peaceful sleep.

•*•*•

My eyes snapped open. It was still dark. I was shaking. I tried to remember my dream to see what I was shaking about, when I realized I actually wasn't shaking, but something inside my neck was shaking. I clapped my good hand over my mouth to stifle the surprised yelp I let out. An overwhelming sense of violation filled my body. Every one of my muscles tensed. I slowly reached for the clock on the floor.

A small part of me guessed that the time the piece of metal in my neck vibrates is connected with something in Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. The time read 12 o'clock. Mike's shift starts at 12.

"No," I whispered, running my hand over my face, "No. No. No, no, no, no. What they put in me?" I put my hand to my neck, the vibrations tickling my fingers. The vibrating finally stopped and I sighed. I tapped my fingers against my neck.

A blurry image of a hallway flashed in my mind. I knew I'd seen that black and white checkered hall before somewhere. Another image flashed, this one of a poster of Freddy, holding his jaw and ripping the top half of his head off. My eyes widened as I realized it was the pizzeria.

My body started moving on its own. My legs kicked the white sheet off and swung over the edge of the cot. I stood and limped around the cot. Using my legs felt great after laying down for so long, but I wasn't in control. My legs carried me to the door of my hospital room. My hand raised to the doorknob. 'No, stop,' my body froze. It took all of my will to try to pull my hand from the doorknob. My hand slid from the door and hung at my side. I went back to my cot and sat.

"I want to go home," I whispered to myself. I hugged my knees to my chest with my good arm.

I wiggled back under my sheets and laid in semiconscious state.

I don't know if I fell asleep at all.