False God ★ M. Schmidt

10

[ Y/n ]

I really hate being here.

Mike and Abby walk ahead of me. My dreams are becoming more off putting with each night we spend here. The only reason we're stuck coming is because Mike doesn't want me at home without anyone to really take care of me if I spike a high fever again.

Being in this dirty, musty, ancient building certainly isn't going to give me any kind of sickness... Some broken glass crunches under my shoe.

The last thing I want is to be left alone in any room in this building so I start walking with the two. Mike turns to me as I get closer to them. "How are you feeling? Do you feel warm?"

I shake my head. "I'm fine. Don't worry." His concern for me is one of his most endearing traits. Some people complain about others caring too much. I would take caring too much over caring too little any day of the week.

Abby's tent has stayed set up in the room overnight. My sleeping bag and the sleeping pad under it are bloodstained. Mike never found what cut me.

"I want to play with them. They're my friends." Something about that is desperately sad and a little bit... Creepy. Abby has been becoming more and more fond of the animatronics here.

The way they interact with her is paranormal.

"You need to get some sleep tonight. Lay down. Get tucked in." Mike zips her sleeping bag up. I lay down in my own. It's not half as comfortable as my bed at home but... I guess I don't have much of a choice.

Abby and Mike talk back and forth for a couple of minutes but eventually she stops responding as she falls asleep. I stare at the ceiling tiles. I'm afraid to sleep.

When I sleep at home I don't dream. When I sleep here... I don't understand why me. Why they talk to me. I don't understand what they're saying to me.

"Hey." I glance over at Mike. "You should try taking one of these. It might help with the nightmares." He passes me one of his sleeping pills and a water bottle.

I take the pill and drink some water. Whatever it takes to sleep through the night without enduring that. "Thank you." I hand back the water bottle.

"Try to rest. I'll be here if you need me. We have some nausea medicine if you need it." He has his backpack handy for in case I get sick again. "Thank you, handsome. I love you."

Mike grins at me, "I love you more. Good night."

"Good night." He faces forward in his chair and I roll on my side. I try to think positive thoughts while I wait for the medicine to take effect.

. . .

What is that sound... It's giving me a killer migraine...

I sit up on my bed, looking around. Abby isn't in her tent and Mike isn't in his chair. Oh christ. I'm in here alone. Music blares from outside. The door to the office is closed.

I pull myself up off the floor and walk toward the door. The cut on my thigh burns from the movement. Clearly Mike and Abby are out there together.

They're out there together. Alive. Probably...

I mean, why would I be left in here alone if someone was brutally murdering them? Why would they turn on this tacky music?