‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ Michael afton x reader☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Night eight

That morning after my shift I didn't go home. Instead, I went to the town's public library. I called my parents from there letting them know I'd be late and not to wait for me for breakfast. After assuring my mother I was safe and simply at a library I began my studies. The librarian, an old plump lady with cat eye glasses, was doing busy work when I approached her.

"Hello" I said, leaning slightly over the desk. "May I ask you a question about the town archives?"

"Down the hall to the left" she said in a monotone voice, not taking her eyes off her papers. I thanked her and had to refrain from running down the hall. When I got to the archives room it was empty, I assumed at least someone might be watching them. I began digging through the cabinets, starting with the F's. However, someone had done a great job of covering up their tracks, there was almost nothing on Freddy's but some advertisements and newspaper clippings. I continued shuffling through, looking through the A's and M's, but still nothing. After a while I flopped to the ground, exhausted and bored. That's when I saw a small file that had fallen under the cabinets. I reached my hand underneath, trying not to cringe as my hand went through spider webs to get the file. When I pulled it out a large 'Classified' stamp was on top and my hands immediately started to shake with excitement. This was it! I opened it slowly, not sure what might be inside. The file only had one piece of paper inside, a police memo on the incident at Freddy's. The note read :

'He said it was him, the co-owner, he knows. William Afton may be able to hide what he had done well, but it's true, we all know how dangerous he is. After the bite of 83' how could we not possibly be suspicious. William Afton is not only a mad man but a grieving father with psychotic tendencies. Please bring this as evidence to his trial. - Sherif roger 02/29/1986'

I immediately closed the file and threw it back under the cabinet. That file was not something I needed to keep. I stood up quickly and left the building, not bothering to answer the librarian when she asked if I found what I was looking for. I went home immediately and began forming theories that I could present to Mike on our next shift, tonight, the night of my 8th shift at Freddy's. I couldn't believe I had been working here for just over a week and I had already gotten myself into a murder mess, why must I know everything.

I hooked my bike into the bike rack and walked with purpose to the office, ready for confrontation. Mike was there as usual, lounging in his chair, half watching the cameras half looking at some blueprints.

"Afton" was all I managed to say. However it caught his attention, he let go of the blueprints and looked at me with a frown.

"I told you you knew," he scowled.

"Not until after we spoke yesterday" I spat back, "and I would like answers". I marched over to his desk where the papers were still out and shuffled through them, struggling to find the one I was looking for.

"Looking for this" Mike said with a smirk on his face as he held up the paper about the murder at Freddy's.

"Yes"

"Well darling, as much as I would love to tell you about my troubled past and psycho father, they're always listening" he put a finger over his mouth in a hush fashion and used the other to point at the cameras. When I turned I was met with Chica's terrifying face inches away from one of the cameras. I jumped, tripping and falling onto Mike's lap. He let out an amused laugh and locked eyes with me.

"Come with me after our shift, I've got the morning off and I'll explain everything there is to know about Freddy Fazbear's Pizza". With that Mike lifted me off his lap and grabbed his tool box. "I'll be back at 6:00, watch the cameras for me dear" and with a wink and a smirk he was off. I couldn't explain how I felt, nervous? Yes, but also no. Sacred? Like crazy, but that wasn't the word I was looking for. In fact, maybe the word I was looking for was excited... Ever since I was a little kid all I dreamt of was solving mysteries, problems and secrets. I had been like every stereotypical teenager... obsessed with gossip, news and drama. Somehow, this mystery was exactly what had been missing in my life, this new town, this new job and this new case. I watched the cameras carefully for the next couple hours, watching for Mike, making sure none of the animatronics tried to play anymore games.

As he did every night, Mike went through his tasks. However, tonight he did them with less precision, his work was sloppy and different tonight. I found myself cringing at the fact I had memorised the way his hands folded the wires and completed other tasks, but who could blame me? He was like an artist, impossible to pry your eyes away when he was at work. His movements and decisions precise, I couldn't tell how he did it but it put me in aw every time. As I watched him work my thoughts drifted aimlessly. Questions, concerns, suggestions flooding my brain and before I knew it my watch read 5:55 am...

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Y/n in their Sherlock Holmes era fr, word count 900 (sorry it's a bit short but gotta build up the pressure in different chapters skhskjh)