The Fall of the Aftons

148: Michael Afton

William shouted at Michael as Michael shouted at William. Michael couldn't even hear what William was saying over his own voice. But based on what his father was saying earlier, he didn't want to hear it.

"Enough!" William screamed, his voice echoing throughout the kitchen. Micahel immediately shut up, freezing in place when William inhaled a sharp deep breath. "Michael, you seem to have forgotten exactly what's happened. So let me refresh your memory." An odd, crooked smile crept its way onto his face, making him look like a creep. "Everyone in your family died, and I adopted you. Years pass, and uninteresting things happen until you suddenly kill Terrance. Sure, it was an accident, but you're still the one to blame."

"Wh-Where... Where are you going with this?" Michael asked nervously, backing up a step. He didn't know why, but the way William was acting was making him nervous.

"You killed Terrance, and you're the one to blame," William continued. An unsettling chuckle sounded from him, and Michael stepped back again. "Years pass, and wow! Would you look at that? You've killed Evan in the Bite of '87." His smile morphed into a scowl. "I don't know why, but you seem to find a way to kill everyone you care about. And it needs to stop before you don't have a family anymore, Michael—whether that be by your own doing or mine."

A shiver ran down Michael's spine. Was he serious? Did William seriously just hint to him that he was going back to the Center? He couldn't go back. He couldn't go back to Miss Iaea's. He was two years away from turning eighteen. No one would ever adopt him. Then he would be all alone. All alone, homeless, and probably jobless as soon as his birthday came around.

Didn't he just tell me the other day that I wasn't going back? Did he seriously change his mind?

William laughed bitterly, snapping him out of his horrifying thoughts. "In the process of your last murder," he continued, slowly starting to stalk toward Michael, "you ruined business for Henry and me."

Michael backed away, soon running into the edge of the counter. Shit.

"You see, we can't quite wash off all the blood from the Fredbear springlock suit you destroyed. And, what's even worse, is that the suit you ruined is the only one that currently works right now." He lowered his head, his face directly in front of Michael's. His breath reeked of coffee and alcohol. "So, that means Fredbear's will have to remain closed for days now until we can get it out. And it's all. your. fault!"

Michael's face stung with the pain of a slap. It barely hurt, but the tears still fell from his eyes as he cradled his stinging cheek in his hand.

William had smacked him.

Again.

He couldn't believe it.