Come to me, Sweet Child

Chapter 1: A New Plan

Michael sits idle on the edge of his bed, purple eyes staring ahead blankly, glowing in the dimly lit room. Silence surrounds the man, the memories of the events before playing like a movie in Michael's mind; the grinding, twisting, and snapping sounds flood his senses. He remembers the pain he felt as his organs were violently scooped out, the moment when wires and electrically charged metal filled the empty space- twisting and tearing his skin. Michael had no time to question why his soul remained- why he wouldn't die. In a way, it was his own personal hell, for his past decisions.

Michael sighs, closing his eyes, and dropping his head into his hands. "How did we even get here?" He says, voice hoarse and tired.

Michael got his little brother killed by an animatronic, his father (who probably already had screws loose) started murdering children and stuffing them into animatronics, his little sister was killed by one of his father's animatronics, and God knows where his mother is- maybe his dad harnessed her soul too!

To say that Michael is tired, is an understatement really. He's exhausted. Anyone who lived a life such as his, with a father such as his, would be hanging onto life by a withered strand of rope too- if not already laying six feet under.

"Damn it, why can't I just die!"

Michael smashes his fist onto the metal bed frame, splitting open an injury he'd previously sewed shut.

"Ah, shit!"

The wound doesn't bleed really, since there isn't any blood in Michael's rotting body anymore, but the dull sensation of pain is still very apparent. Michael stares at the open wound while exposed wires sizzle and fizz. Sighing, Michael gets up, making his way to the bathroom. He opens the cabinet behind the mirror, taking out surgical thread, a surgical needle, and surgical scissors, before taking a seat on the side of the bathtub.

Michael is quiet as he puts the threaded needle through his rough skin, carefully closing the wound. It's a good distraction, oddly enough, for the man.  Threading his wounds just seemed to take his mind off of things for the time being. Plus, Michael had gotten used to threading his wounds, so much so that he thought, if he wasn't a literal rotting corpse he might have taken up becoming a surgeon. Finishing up, Michael gets up to put the materials away.  After closing the cabinet, Michael takes a second to admire his stitching work before leaning over the sink to analyze his reflection in the mirror. It still felt unreal to gaze upon his decaying figure.

Glowing purple eyes sat within sunken eye sockets underneath ghostly white hair. Two black stitches ran along the sides of Michael's mouth, another one under his left eye. The rest of his fixed wounds stay hidden beneath his clothes and hair; those ugly, yet neatly done stitches are the painful reminder to Michael that this is his life now.

Michael inhales deeply, closing his eyes as to take his mind off of the dangerous feelings beginning to rise within him once again. Opening his eyes slightly, Michael looks at his reflection again, an idea coming to his mind.

"Of course,"

'Kill my father and release the souls.'

Not a moment later, Michael is in his office, opening his laptop, and typing in a job offers site. He types in the key words, ones he knows all to well.

"Someone is definitely crazy enough to rebuild and make a new restaurant in that corrupt corporation...ah ha, there it is!"

Michael smiles biterly at the screen. "Sick, twisted, and money hungry should be their catch phrase."

There the offer was, glowing, in Michael's eyes.

Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place Manager Required

This is his key to initiating the plan! Michael clicks on the apply button, after typing in his information. Leaning back in his chair, Michael closes his eyes.

All he has to do now is wait.

A smile slowly finds its way onto Michael's face. This was new. Who would've thought Michael Afton would be smiling over ending someone's life?

(Like father like son I guess... well minus the fact that Michael's doing this for revenge while William..not at all).

Although, it would be more unsettling if it wasn't William, Michael was focusing on, but since it is, he gets a free pass. His life, for as far back as he can remember, has been pretty much shit anyway.

Michael slowly opens his eyes, squinting at the bright light shinning back at him.

"Mmm, shoot did I fall asleep?"

The man stretches his limbs, careful not to pull any stitches. Glancing at the time Michael saw that the afternoon had slipped by, and it was now late in the evening.

"Huh, night already? I wonder if I got any emails back...well wouldn't you know it."

Michael puts his fist up to his mouth, hiding his smile from no one in particular. Reading the email he got once more, Michael bounces his leg.

Good evening Mr.Afton,

I have read over your job application and résumé, and have found that you fit the requirements for this job. Please come in early tomorrow, I would like to talk further on what you will be in charge of as the building's new manager and give you some quick rundowns of the place.

Best,
Henry Emily

Michael's smile falters.

"Uncle Henry?"