I Don't Get Paid Enough For This (William Afton x reader)

Picture Perfect

He was insufferable.

You were sat cleaning footprints of the checkered floor in the hallway near the security office, some night guard had tracked mud through on their way to start the shift and once again you were left with the job of cleaning up after everyone. Once again you had been given one of the shitty jobs around the pizzeria.

As you scrubbed, you kept flicking back to your interaction with Afton. He pissed you off, how could he be so cruel and then suddenly somewhat 'nice'. His comment about your appearance bothered you, was he just mocking you?

You began scrubbing hard, pushing much more force into each action.

What was his issue? Why was he so difficult?

Your actions became steadily more violent and aggressive as you forced the sponge into the ground.

You hated his voice, you hated his face, you hated how he spoke to you, you hated his dark hair, you hated those cold silver eyes, you hated-

The sponge suddenly broke in half under your aggressive movements and scrubbing. You didn't even know that was possible.

"Fuck." You hissed in frustration as you stood up and dusted yourself off. You had really torn a whole sponge in half over this man. You were both impressed at your strength and annoyed at the fact that he had enough power over you to get you this upset when he wasn't even in the room.

You frowned and turned to go grab another one from the supply closet when you heard the sound of falling paper behind you.

You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that one of the drawings from the wall was slowly gliding down towards the ground. It landed face down on the muddy checkered floors.

Naturally, you went to pick it up. You'd grown accustomed to these pictures no matter how creepy they could be. To you they almost lighted the place up. They were a reminder to you that to these kids, Freddy Fazbears was a place of joy and wonder. It made you jealous of the naive joy of children, something you wished you'd appreciated more before you went and condemned yourself to this town and career.

You carefully lifted the paper up, not wanting to crinkle the paper, and turned it around to admire the drawing on the other side.

Huh?

You hadn't seen this one before.

Drawn messily in crayon was a depiction of a poorly drawn kid with a birthday hat on, they sat alone at a table with the same purple table coverings and balloons that were stationed in all the party rooms. The kid had a wide smile on their face despite their apparent isolation in the white void of the background.

Shrugging, you pinned it back onto the wall.

As you did so, the same sound repeated itself a few steps to your right. Turning your head, you looked to see another drawing plummeting to the floor.
Confused, you picked it up and turned it around like you had done with the previous picture.

It was the same kid. Except this time he wasn't alone. In the corner of the drawing stood an animatronic. The eyes were blacked out and the suit itself looked to be a broken down yellow rabbit.
Yellow rabbit? You weren't aware that there were any other animatronics hanging around, especially not a yellow rabbit. Maybe the kid had just run out of blue or purple, or whatever the fuck the damn rabbit's colour was, crayons.

The yellow rabbit was creepy to say the least as it faced out towards the isolated child. There were no clear eyes, just dark black holes that were frantically scribbled onto the suit.

Another drawing suddenly launched itself from the wall a little further up the hallway. You grasped tightly onto the drawing you already had in your hands and slowly approached the last drawing. You took a deep breath before you turned over the picture once more.