Wolf Teeth - William Afton x Reader

Chapter Eight

(y/n)’s POV:

I played an Aerosmith cassette on the way home, turning the music up and enjoying it. The emotion playing in William’s eyes when he saw the blood dripping from the cut confused me. I couldn’t place what it was, but it reminded me of when Ilonna caught me trying to dislodge a bullet from my leg by myself. There was blood all over the bathroom floor and she looked so panicked. She was angry. Angry at me for not asking for help, and angry at the officer who shot me.

    William had that same look on his face; though, it was slightly different in the sense that I could see the anger in his eyes mixed with another emotion I couldn’t place. It looked almost vulnerable, but I wouldn’t put it by William to be vulnerable. Shaking it off, I pulled up to the new gate I had put in. I’d ordered a custom one with the Vigouroux crest in the middle, made from wrought iron with a keypad on the left side of the drive. I put in the code and drove through, admiring the wild grasses waving in the early summer breeze. 

After parking and letting the dogs out, I made my way upstairs to my room. I completely undressed to nothing and slipped on a (f/c) satin dressing gown, tying it closed and taking the dirty uniform downstairs. It felt nice to just be in the freeing dressing gown, to be quite honest. I took the clothes to the mudroom by the back door and put them into the washing machine.

    The early morning sun began to peek in through the blinds as I set the washer to run and made my way back upstairs and to my room. Steam quickly filled the spacious bathroom while I slipped out of the dressing gown and hung it on a hook on the door. The water ran red when I stepped into the shower, using a cloth to gently clean the blood from my face. It stung but it was bearable. It felt great to scrub away the sweat, dirt, and blood from my nerve-wracking night. 

    Although it’s been a few days since I started working as a night guard, I haven’t experienced anything other than adrenaline spikes. The sparce other employees, that being Chloe and Abby, warned me about fatigue, daymares, night terrors, halucinations, and anxiety. I knew the voices weren’t halucinations, and I am quite sure I haven’t seen or heard anything that would be considered halucinations. No night terrors, daymares, or fatigue so far.

    I suppose anxiety would be reasonable, since I got attacked by Foxy this morning. Maybe it was that they’re humans and I’m not that makes the difference. Although I’ve never been attacked by robots, been talked to by dead children, or been watched by towering animatronics, I have been surrounded by death, which feels strangely familiar to this.

    I switched the water as cold as it would go for the last few minutes of my shower. The icy sensation washed over my body and chased away the aches from my sore muscles. I rolled my neck, kneeding the muscles there to try and ease the stiffness. The cold definitely helped lower my body temperature, as it grew to be quite warm in response to the nerves. Stepping out of the shower and turning the water off, I dried off with a fluffy black towel. The cold water dissolved the condensation on the mirror, allowed me to see the array of scars crossing my body.

    I wasn’t fit enough to be considered bulky, but fit enough to be firmly muscled. Some scars were white and small, some were dark dips in the skin, others were large, deep and raised. Many were bite scars, the rest scratches or bullet scars. They peppered my torso and back, shoulders and arms, neck and thighs. I only had a few knicks and scratches on my face, though they were small and barely visible, except the knick in my ear where it’d been bitten by Ilonna when we used to fight. 

The cut across my face was still wet and bleeding, though it wasn’t as bad as it was before the shower. After cleaning and bandaging it, I put on some pants and sleep trousers before going into the bedroom. I set the alarm clock on the nightstand to go off at nine, then settled down to sleep.