william afton - smut one shots

Back rooms

Girl works at Fredbear's blah blah blah 

***

After a long, seven-hour shift at Fredbear's Family Diner, Clementine found herself in the dimly lit back rooms, cleaning up after the day's chaos. Mr. Emily, the co-owner, had asked her to stay back and finish the job before Mr. Afton, the other co-owner, locked up. Afton was locked away in his office, so Clem made sure to stay out of his sight.

The last thing she needed was to be screamed at for not 'mopping properly,' or some other bullshit excuse to be upset. The mere thought of Mr. Afton made Clem's skin crawl with disgust; his presence alone was enough to put her off.

Describing Afton as merely scary would be an understatement for Clem. Whenever she would make even the tiniest mistake, Mr. Afton's knack for making her feel stupid was unmatched. This went for all the employee's at Fredbear's. His invasive presence, along with the stench of cigarettes and lingering pizza grease on his breath, was repulsive. 

As Clem approached the final room to clean—Parts and Services—a wave of unease washed over her. It was a place she had never been inside before, as Mr. Afton had always strictly forbidden anyone from entering. Clem never thought too much of it. Her fatigue weighed heavily on her shoulders, matched only by the gnawing hunger in her stomach. But these physical discomforts were nothing in comparison to what happened to her sister.

Just two weeks ago, Clem's little sister had vanished without a trace right after her birthday celebration at Fredbear's. The guilt that consumed Clem was unbearable. As the manager, she knows it's her job to make sure everything is running smoothly.

After all, Afton and Emily are in those suits for most of the time. Yet, in the aftermath of her disappearance, Clem felt utterly powerless. The lack of progress in the search for her sister only made it worse. Days turned into weeks, and still, there were no leads, no clues. Deep down, she had a strong feeling of certainty that she was no longer alive.

Clem lazily refilled the mop bucket, adding soap and a touch of bleach before trudging toward Parts and Services. Unlike Mr. Afton, who was just a cruel man, Mr. Emily had given her permission, and Clem placed her trust in him. She tiptoed around and tried to stay as quiet as possible, hoping to avoid drawing Mr. Afton's attention from his office.

The foul odor that greeted her when she entered Parts and Services was rancid. The putrid scent assaulted her senses. It smelt like something was rotting, or decaying. Despite the urge to puke, Clem managed to suppress it as she walked further into the room. The space had various animatronic parts and worn-out suits, each emitting a musty odor that made her gag. She held her breath in disgust.

As she began to mop, the nauseating stench intensified with each step toward the animatronic propped up in the corner. Glancing over at it, Clem had an insatiable desire to look inside, despite the horrible smell. Crouching beside it, she pinched her nose shut, but an unsettling feeling gnawed at her gut. Everything about this situation felt wrong, yet her curiosity got the best of her.

In a moment of sheer horror, Clem noticed human flesh was nestled within the confines of the suit. Her hand clasped over her mouth, eyes widening in terror. "No," she uttered in a trembling whisper, her heart sinking as she opened the suit, revealing her little sister's dead body. Her body lay still, trapped within the confines of the animatronic, still wearing her pink birthday dress that their mom had gifted her that morning.

Clem couldn't handle the sight; Her decaying flesh, infested with maggots. Her once vibrant eyes now lifeless and empty. She was so pale, so gray. Clem flinched back in horror, a primal shriek escaping her lips, followed by uncontrollable sobs. Despite her efforts to keep down the rising urge to vomit, her body rejected it, and she succumbed, puking onto the dusty floor. She already had a feeling she was gone, but now that she knows it's for real, she couldn't process it.