Willry and Helliam oneshots

Night 3 -I Would Kiss You Even If You Were Dead

Mmmm posted this to Wattpad while eating chicken wings. Also my birthday was June 1st of this year. I'm 18 now. Still in school because of moving so much. But still 18.

TW/CW: corpse gore, gun violence, more mental intability

This is when it starts to bang. And not just because of the gun violence.

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Night 3 and questionable air circulation

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The next night, Henry made his way to the office. He had abandoned the idea of bringing a book, but he did bring a gun. Henry had bought it some time back in college by request of his father as a safety measure for living on his own. He hadn't ever used it. Its life had been long relegated to sitting in a safe in his shed. Similarly, Henry had never bothered renewing his license. But considering the fact he would be committing another crime in less than a week he really couldn't care less. There wasn't even a guarantee he'd have to use the gun. And if everything went according to plan no one would even know it was him who had been here. Dead men can't even get charged with arson. The entire walk to the office Henry felt on edge. His gun was in his hand and despite the cold outside his hands were clammy. Henry by no means was following proper gun safety. But the idea that he had a means to protect himself stifled any worry of hurting himself. Even if that allure of protection was founded under false pretenses and a notion that what he was going up against could be Killed. Henry didn't want to consider that an option. So, he didn't, he made himself busy, jumping at every noise and checking every shadow. He knew that he saw something the night before, he saw one of his suits. One of the suits he had made back when it all started. He recognized it as if it was his own child, even if he didn't fully know how it had ended up in its current situation. But he could only guess William had something to do with it.

A very stressful, yet realistically uneventful and very drawn out walk to the office later and Henry is face to face with an empty room. He tried to find something out of place, but everything looked the same and at the same time nothing was where it had been the night before. He decided it was best not to dwell on this and went to start the systems. They were so loud. So much louder than he would ever want them to be. Who's to say if he'd even hear anything coming over the roar of the air circulation systems. He sat down in the chair and tried to do anything to keep his mind away from the anxieties and worry. To keep him in place, sitting in this chair. He started idly going thought the stack of papers on the desk again. He Couldn't bring himself to actually read any of them, just skimming until he got the idea. He did this 3 times before realizing it was going nowhere and was not effective at passing his time. Henry walked up and down the length of the office hoping it would help him calm his nerve or at the very least waste time. But time was moving so slowly, the painful drag of existence induced by chronoception filled his every thought. His eyes trained on his watch as if it would save him. Henrys mind was running so fast it felt like he couldn't remember anything of the night before. Did he see it through the window? Or had it been the vent? No, it couldn't be, he was already by the door when he saw it, right? Henry could feel himself chasing after and desperately grasping onto his survival instincts, they had gone unused for god knows how long, but they had to be there. His body would not betray his own safety for the bliss of ignorance, would it? Henry can feel himself start to spiral into his thoughts but is pulled from his train of thought by the light flashing out of the corner of his eye. His gaze darts up. It's the air. He takes a deep breath and goes to fix it.

Afterwards he decides to walk around some, since sitting still clearly wasn't going to get him through the night and keep his sanity intact. His gun is gripped tight in his right hand as if holding onto it will somehow ground him in the sea of memories that this building brings. He ends up finding a steady pace in the sound of his footsteps echoing about the building. His boots are heavy against the old tile floor as he paces back and forth. His movements are consistent, like he's a guard trying to stop something from getting inside the office. He continues this mindless pacing for a short while before he hears something in the vent. The metal groans and warps as the building settles. and It's nothing. He hopes. Henry closes the hatch next to the desk before he has time to figure out if it was the building or something else. For an extra measure he resets the air. As it works, he looks out the window in the office out to the hallway. It's one of his suits. Spring Bonnie is now a decaying mess, rotted a vile shade of green and rust. The suit stands still at almost 7 foot (2m) tall. Henry blinks in disbelief, sure that what he's seeing isn't real. He resets all the systems, but it doesn't work. The suit, and presumably whoever is inside, stays still its eyes boring into his soul as it stands motionless in the hallway. Henry takes a deep breath and rounds the corner to stand on the opposite side of the hallway. He turns off the safety and raises his gun, pointing it at the suit he made all those years ago. He feels like his hands are shaking but he can't tell if it's from fear or the sudden cold chills that wreak havoc on his mind and body. Its eyes are grey and have no life to them, the only semblance of humanity left is found in its faulty posture and the eerie quiet not allowed by his creations. Before he can say anything, it speaks in a broken raspy voice as if it's fighting with death for control over its own vocal cords. "You can't really think that will save you, Henry"