FNaF One-Shots

Just A Dream

TWs: Mention of Domestic Abuse, Swearing, Sleep Paralysis

  Ever since you were young, your father was distant. He'd surround himself in his work, earning money for the family and obsessing over animatronics. He'd drink when he wasn't working, which wasn't very often. You don't like it when he drinks.

  One night he came home drunk, and the first thing he did was yell at your eldest brother, Michael. He picked at him, pointing out his deepest insecurities, and feasted on them. He yelled for over thirty minutes. When he was done with him, he blazed through the house until he found Mom. The screaming and arguing went on for a while, you weren't sure exactly for how long. You were in your closet, humming.

  Your mother was caring and sweet, but she had her days. The ones where all she could do was lie in her bed and cry. Lie when you asked if she was okay. Lie when you asked if she needed anything. She loves her children with every bone in her body, but some days, she just doesn't have the energy.

  Dad had never hurt you once, despite yelling at the others for hours on some days.

  "Y/n, are you okay?" You snapped out of your memories, turning to Violet.

  "Yeah, I'm fine. What were you saying about tonight's homework?"

  "Oh my gosh, it's so dumb! We have to write a whole entire paragraph on our early childhood, and for what? Our personal lives are none of her fucking business. I'm going to lie in mine, make up most of it."

  "Yeah, same here. It's not her business. What's the point of this?"

  "To improve your writing? I don't know, it's just as dumb as her normal assignments, the difference here is that she wants to get personal. No, no, and I don't, thank you."

  "Exactly. Violet, you know just how to word things. Sometimes."

  "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

  "Why not both?" You snickered as you dodged her textbook, picking it up for her when it lands.

~ Time Skip ~ Y/n's Pov ~ 4:46 PM ~          Oct 28, 2003

  "Mom! I'm home!" You shut the door, pushing it closed with a click from the lock. You walk through the hall into the kitchen. Your mom sits silently at the table, face blank.

  "Is Dad home yet?" She looks up at you.

  "No. Michael's gone out to look for him," she replies. You look down, picking at your nails. How long has he been gone, you want to ask. Knowing will solve nothing.

  "I'm gonna head to my room. You need anything?"

  "No, thank you," she says.

  You walk off in the direction of your room, the hum of your fan filling your ears. You lay on your bed, ignoring the homework you'd collected from your classes. Your fan hums above you, filling up all the space in your mind.

  The room was white. It was blank, the corners stark. There wasn't anything in the room, except for a large clock resting on the wall. It ticked loudly.

  Something's not right.

  You surveyed the room further, looking for something, anything, out of place. The walls morphed in your vision as you stared. The clock ticked. The numerals shifted, becoming blurry. 

  You blinked.

  Everything is still. 

  The clock ticked.

  The clock ticked.

  The clock ticked.

  This is a dream.

  Your eyes widened and you gasped. You twisted and turned, no longer able to move your feet. Your heart began pounding in your ears, your chest feeling heavy. You looked at the clock, which was no longer ticked. It whirred.

  The walls changed, darkening and reddening. Your bedroom, stickers along the walls. You were laying down on your bed as the fan hummed above you. Your eyes shifted all over the room, panic overwhelming you.

  You. Can't. Move.

  A shadowy figure stands at the end of your bed. Its eyes are white. Your heartbeat quickens as absolute fear takes over your body. Its shadows curl along the walls as it shifts, getting on your bed. It crawls over you, enveloping the room in darkness. An overwhelming pressure sits on your chest, as it's now pressing its hands on you.

~ Y/n's Pov ~ 3:03 AM ~

  Its white eyes stared into yours. You stared back.

  You reached up and hit it across the face. It slithers away, the whirring in your ears finally going away. The fan above hums.

~ Y/n's Pov ~ 6:21 AM ~          Oct 29, 2003

  "Wake up." Mom is standing in the doorway. You sit up, feeling groggy.

  "We're gonna go look for your dad, okay?" You nod, eyes adjusting to the light. Your head is pounding, and your arm feels sore. 

  "Is Michael coming, too?" You rub your eyes, trying in vain to make them hurt less. 

  "He's . . . not come home yet." You frown.

  "I'm gonna leave, get dressed and meet me in the car," your mom says. She walks out, shutting the door behind her. You stretch, wincing when you breathe too deeply. You grab the doorhandle of your closet and recoil in pain, pulling your hand in your other. You turn it over, preparing to see a spider bite, but instead, your hand is purple and bruised. You rush to your mirror and pull off your shirt.

  Your chest is bruised.

~A/n ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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