-Satire-
Prolouge
Henry sat at his desk, observing Micheal's work. He knew why Micheal was here. He knew why Micheal salvaged them. The look of concentration in his eyes gave it away. But that was the thing.
Henry couldn't understand the look of his eyes. He couldn't understand what happened to Micheal. The little boy with dark brown hair and a hell of a lot of confidence, into a crippled purple corpse. It all reminded him of William.
Henry watched as Micheal play tested security puppet the tenth time. He felt as a knife had been put through his chest as , yet again, he watched his innocent, young daughter get slaughtered. Micheal stepped away from the machine, realising what he witnessed.
Micheal looked like he wanted to throw up, Henry shared the feeling. The memory of his sweet daughter, the girl who helped and played with lonely people. The girl who helped old people walk the streets. The girl who gave her blanket to the homeless. Watching her be brutally slaughtered by a man that shouldn't walk on this earth killed Henry.
William. It was all his fault. He couldn't bare to think of any other children dying never mind his own. 6 children. 6 beacons of light in their parents world of darkness. 6 innocent souls set to fill the world with purity. 6 dead children. 1 man to blame.
Henry couldn't wrap his head around how William pulled it all off. How he was never punished. Why would he do this in the first place. To commit one of the worst crimes in history. All for.. what? Thrill? Pleasure? Revenge?
But tonight. When Micheal finished his nightly tasks. Tonight was the night. Tonight was Saturday. It was time to justice the injustices of their story. Time to rid the world of him. Time to finish off their story. End their legacy.
It had been long. Too long. Too long had the souls been trapped in the robots. Too long had he been able to survive. Too long had this story gone on. Too long had his son, his only kin, searched and slaved for him.
Micheal. Gabriel. Jeremy. Susie. Fritz. Cassidy. Evan. Elizabeth. Charlotte. Too many names. Too many hurt by that man. Too many parents confused and traumatised all because of him. Its all going to happen. All will be over. It will end. He will end.
Henry felt the sides of his eyes water up as he gets a picture of his daughter out from a drawer. He always had one with him. It felt like he always had her in spirit. Henry put the photo in his bag, in its own pocket.
He sat, thinking of his whole life. He slammed his fist on his table. He missed charlotte. He missed her so much. He can still remember how she hugged him when he came home. Her cute jokes. Her stupid questions. His daughter.
Tears dampened his cheeks. He stood up, rage flooding his tears. "GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU AFTON!" he shouted. He slammed his fist against the wall, painting his fist in a bruise .
Henry sat down after a while and noticed Micheal was gone finishing tasks. He watched as his daughter, in a suit, crawled frantically to get him. He smirked. That was his little girl, a little jitterbug.
Then he saw William. He felt some evil desire looking at him. A desire to destroy and never look back. A desire he hadn't felt before. Henry looked up at the clock. 1 am. He stood up, taking out his phone.
Henry had never known how to navigate a phone but he didn't miss a beat. He went to his messages and saw his wife. He frowned, reading the arguments they had over text. The latest text was 1 hour ago.
"Go fucking die Henry"
He still knew he was right in their previous fight. She had actually told him to get over Charlie. He couldn't believe his own wife, the mother to his daughter, would say that.
She started typing. " hey Henry, can u pick me up from work tmr?" Henry hesitated before texting. "I cant" "Why?" "I'm not gonna be here" "where will you be?" Henry didn't respond. "Henry don't go fucking drinking" "if its to do with afton don't bother" "Henry just fucking pick me up" "I'm your wife" "asshole"
Henry put his phone down as he looked to the side of his office, where he had his alcohol. He had a huge drinking problem. But alcohol wouldn't help. As he reached for the bottle his hand slipped, causing it to fall on the ground.
Henry didn't bother pick it up, it wasn't going to matter. He looked to his phone again, which was blowing up with texts. He picked it up.
"Please respond" "Henry get your ass home" "I'm sick of your job and how much attention it gets"
He thought as he wrote his text. "Go check the bedroom" he watched his phone as it went silent until it blew up with texts. "HENRY DID YOU WRITE THIS" "HENRY" "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO" "DO NOT DO THIS" "IM ON MY WAY" "DONT FUCKING DO THIS"
it was an hour by car to get at his workplace and it was already six. He saw Micheal celebrate his survival and Henry broadcasted his tape. It was time.
He picked up the buckets and splashed the gasoline around. The once franchise he loved, was the one he was going to die in. Everywhere stunk with the stench of gasoline. It was time to bring justice to everyone. He got into his office. They brought a candle into a world of ebony, just to be lit out. He opened his secret drawer. His own girl. He picked up some matchsticks. Slaughtered by the offences in this world. He put his phone in his pocket. It was time to put all tortured to rest. The gasoline splashed as he walked through it. He was to make sure nobody, NOBODY in this world be made suffer by this torture.
He lit a match, the fire emitting light to the dark room. He felt his eyes water up. He was too young. Too innocent. But he couldn't bare living with. These secrets. He smiled slightly as he dropped the match, the fire spreading around him like haywire. It lit up the room.
He could hear the screams of the children. And his scream. It was different. A regretful one. As the fire spread, he felt arms around his chest. "Thank you, daddy" the words echoed as his daughters body faded out of sight.
He smiled as he opened his phone, texting one last thing to his wife.
"Goodbye"
