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

Family Comes First

The sunlight filtered into the room, lighting it up as you raised your head out of the soft pillows. Obviously you were trying to suffocate yourself by sleeping in that position.

You groaned as you sat up, the pain in your back and the back of your arms wasn't going away. What the hell was happening? You were twenty two, not some old ass man with rickets.

You sat up as you felt the cold air hit your skin, causing your skin to form little goosebumps as you shivered slightly. It was a weird feeling, you felt sweaty and cold at the same time. Gross.

You looked around the room as you kicked the covers off of yourself. William wasn't there.

You looked around and noticed a folded up piece of paper on the bedside table next to you. You reached out and picked it up, clenching your teeth slightly at the movement and the blunt pain that came with it. You unfolded the paper and read the note left inside for you.

'Gone out. Will be back later. -W'

Short and simple. At least he got straight to the point, yet you couldn't help but wonder what he was doing. Despite basically living with the guy and knowing his big secret, it still felt like there was a sort of wall between the two of you. He was a complete mystery in a weird way.

Maybe you were overthinking it.

What time even was it?

You glanced over at the alarm clock near the bed and frowned upon seeing that it was almost 2pm. In fairness, you did have a night shift the night before.

You'd taken up more night shifts since your promotion and you hated them completely. Half the time you just slept after maybe three hours but the other three hours you spent watching the animatronics. You would watch them move around on the cameras, their bodies knocking into party chairs and tables. They were like zombies in a sense with their empty eyes and souls that lost any recollection of who they were. They would bang on the metal doors and roam the dark and abandoned hallways, looking for something... or someone.

You didn't like to think about them. It made you shudder. You didn't want to think about interacting with them in that state outside of the safety of the security room and you hated to think about what they would do if they got inside.

Instead you rolled out of bed ungracefully and stood up. Again your eyes went blurry and dark again. Jeez, did you have a crazy iron deficiency or what?

You stumbled slightly on your way over to the bathroom, opening the door and stepping in. This bathroom was much nicer than the one back at your apartment. The lights in here never flickered, the shower and bath were separate places and the marble countertops made it feel a lot richer than what you were used to.

As you stood washing your hands, feeling the warm water waking you up, you had a moment of curiosity. You looked up at your reflection, seeing your dark eye bags and slightly hunched over body leaning over the sink and wondered about the markings you had found. Those weird patches of dots and punctures.

You took a breath as you stood up straight. Maybe they were gone. Maybe you had just had some weird allergic reaction or something.

You slowly raised your shirt above your head to remove it, tossing it next to the sink as you slowly turned around so that your back faced the mirror. You turned your head to peer over your shoulder as you tried to get a good angle of your back.

What the fuck...?

The little red dots had not gone. In fact they seemed almost worse. The skin of your back and back of your upper arms were red and irritated as though you had just gotten a nasty carpet or friction burn after fucking around on a trampoline. Some of the tiny dots were redder than others, tiny dots of blood filling the little holes and bumps. It was as though someone had used a tattoo machine on you without any ink in it, just running the tiny sharp needles across your body, tearing up the skin and replacing it with tiny holes lined up side by side in the soft flesh of your upper arms and back.