"𝓘𝓣'𝓢 𝓜𝓔" || 𝓕𝓝𝓐𝓕 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

His Younger Brother's Spirit

The man who had been coming for the past 5 nights was none other than William Afton, everyone said so. The monster who had taken advantage of the naivety of five children to create a bloodbath. The exemplary citizen who had never faced justice. And if the court couldn't make him pay, his victims would take care of it. William's own son had finally agreed to help the souls he interacted with to stop the man behind the slaughter.

Evan jumped when he heard Jeremy and Susie trying to break down the metal door. During the day, the restaurant seemed nice, with the sounds of lively children having fun in what appeared to be a family friendly place. But at night, the anger of the dead children made the walls shake. The youngest Afton didn't like all this violence, but he understood that his friends had never wanted a knife shoved into their stomachs, throats, and skulls. He wouldn't object if they managed to eliminate his father, even if he wasn't the one who killed him. That title belonged to his older brother, Michael Afton.

Usually, Cassidy took control of Golden Freddy, but she never managed to reach the office in time. Unlike the other animatronics, this one was quite hard to control due to its almost ghostly nature. At dusk, the dead children recalled the action plan. Jeremy led Bonnie to the left door, Susie tried to get Chica through the right door. Fritz had to surprise the guard by charging with Foxy. Gabriel was supposed to attack with Freddy if their target ran out of battery. No one had succeeded in defeating their killer, even though they all had a chance. Everyone, except one person. Evan Afton didn't dare to confront his father, but that night, he had agreed. The soul of the eight-year-old boy approached the lifeless Fredbear costume and stared at its jaw as memories of his death returned.

"He can't do anything to me now. I'm dead."

He wiped away his solitary tear and entered the mouth of the costume to take control. Golden Freddy lit up his white eyes and turned his head toward Cassidy's soul. The black-haired girl with pigtails stared at him.

"I hope you'll have the courage to kill your father."

Evan simply nodded. She didn't enter the costume, and let the boy control this killing machine.

The young boy had no difficulty moving the animatronic that had taken his life in 1983. He didn't know if he was walking or flying, but he simply advanced towards the sounds of fists pounding against the door. At the beginning of his new life as a soul, he cried a lot, much like during the five days before the party. But after spending five nights in the same building as William, he had retained that empty expression. It had been several years since he stopped being a crybaby.

When the other children saw Evan Afton's soul determined to confront his father, they let him settle the score. The phantom robot observed the closed door for a while. He focused and felt the atmosphere tense. The particles around him shifted at his will. The movement of Golden Freddy. When he opened his eyes, he was in the office. Up until now, the five children had dreamed of being in Evan's place, to give their killer a special treatment. But the soul simply sat there and admired his father one last time before attacking him. Maybe he could bite into his frontal lobe to get rid of this criminal ? The guard continued to gaze at the cameras, his hands visibly trembling. He had the same purple uniform and seemed to have the same body shape as his father, but his head was hidden by the screen. Without a doubt, it was William Afton.

"Well, daddy, it's been a while, hasn't it?"

Evan knew he couldn't communicate with him, knew that 6AM was approaching. However, he had waited far too long for this discussion to miss the opportunity. Finally, the guard noticed his presence and, as planned, freaked out. He tried to move away from the killing machine he had created. But Evan remained motionless. Instead of sinking his teeth into his frontal lobe, he read his nametag.

"Mike Schmidt? You even thought of changing your name, William," the boy chuckled.

But his smile disapeard when he fully focused on the face of the man who wasn't that old. Their father couldn't have suddenly grown younger. And those blue eyes didn't have their usual cold gleam; they were just tired.

"Fredbear?" This voice wasn't William's. The last time he had heard it was a very long time ago. Suddenly, everything came back to him.

"Can you hear me? I don't know if you can hear me... I'm sorry. So sorry!" The tears. The flat signal, then total darkness. That's how his nightmares had ended and how he was forever imprisoned by Fredbear. Evan didn't take his eyes off Michael.

"M... Mikey," the boy whispered.

His small voice echoed, full of hope, an emotion he had long forgotten. A smile replaced the troubled expression on the young Afton's face. His world had finally regained its colors. In the world of the living, the guard didn't react, neither did Golden Freddy. But Evan's soul leaped out of the costume to embrace him. However, the little brother stopped in front of Mike, knowing he would pass through. A question troubled his mind. Did his killer really deserve his affection? The soul took a few steps back and looked at Michael.

"Why did you... kill me, on my birthday?"

The young man didn't hear him. Pain replaced hope immediately.

"Don't pretend you can't hear me, big brother!" The lights flickered, but Mike continued to gaze through the ghost of his brother at the killing machine. Evan felt his fists clench; he was frustrated by the laws between the living and the dead that prevented him from confronting Michael without killing him. He didn't want to see his brother dead; all of this had been an accident. William's murders were not accidents.

"I think of you every day, wondering what your life is like, without me, without Elizabeth, and without... William. But you... you haven't forgotten me. Have you, Mikey?" The night guard still ignored him, but Evan fell to his knees in front of his older brother. He began to cry again.

"Look ahead..." The little boy lifted his head to his older brother.

"It's me," he murmured in the softest, most gentle voice he could produce.

This time, Michael's eyes widened. The younger brother thought he saw tears welling up in the guard's eyes. They weren't tears of fear, but of regret. In a way, he had broken the barrier between the living and the dead. When the clock struck 6AM, Mike Schmidt passed through the soul and left the office without thinking. Evan let him go, without saying a word. He had finally been able to let his older brother know what had happened to him after the Bite of '83. His brother was fine; he had survived the five nights at Freddy's. That was all that mattered.