The Fall of the Aftons

115: William Afton

"Michael? Michael! Michael, where are you?" Henry shouted as he walked past William's office. Suddenly, he stopped yelling and peeked his head inside the office, his face nervous. "Have you seen Michael, Will? I can't find him anywhere."

"Is he not in the lobby cleaning?" William asked, confused. Michael was always working on his cleaning rounds around this time.

"No! I haven't seen him since he started his shift."

William stood up and walked over to Henry, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come on. I'll help you find him. He couldn't have gone far--he's not allowed to drive my lorry and that's what I took to get here, so he's gotta be around here somewhere."

Henry hesitantly nodded his head. "If you say so..."

The two of them started searching through Fazbear's for about twenty minutes. After those twenty minutes passed, they split up. Henry searched the storage rooms behind the stages and the stage control room while William searched through the party rooms and the other rooms in the back hallways.

Fifteen minutes after searching, William stopped in his tracks. He heard the sounds of someone sniffling and gasping for air. He looked around the hallway at the doors around him. The only room close enough to be the source of the sounds was the janitorial supply closet.

Confused, William turned the handle to the closet and slowly opened the squeaky door. He reached to flick on the light, but when he flipped the switch, the light failed to turn on. It must've been a dead bulb. With a shrug to himself, he looked around the tiny closet, looking for the noise-maker.

Michael was the source of the sniffling and gasping.

He was sitting on the floor, his back facing the door. The First Aid bag was up against it, with many of its contents scattered around him. His shoulders were heaving in rhythm to the gasps and sniffles, his arms moving around rapidly as he tried to do something. What in the world was he doing?

"Michael?" William asked softly, his voice quiet so as not to terrify his son.

Michael still flinched, dropping whatever was in his hands. He didn't turn to look at William.

"What are you doing in here?" William continued, starting to get worried. "Are you hurt? Did something happen?"

Michael scrambled to put the remaining medical supplies away and shoved the trash in his uniform pockets. "You wouldn't believe me," he mumbled as he stood up. He put the bag back where it belonged and grabbed his bucket of usual cleaning supplies. He brushed past William as he tried to leave, but William caught him by the arm, keeping him close. "Let me go!"

"Michael, come on. Talk to me, bud. What's wrong?" William asked.

"You would not believe me if I told you, therefore you are not going to receive an answer." He tried to pull his arm back to him, but he couldn't get William's grip to loosen. "Let me go!" he shouted, his voice cracking and full of pain as he pulled his arm away harder. This time, though, he succeeded and quickly ran off to go clean.