Fredbear Stockholm (YanderePurpleGuy X Reader)

Intuition

Your heart rattled in its own ribcage while ruminating over countless thoughts. They twisted and tangled until you found yourself swallowing a painful obstruction in your throat. Today was unlike any other. 

There was a feeling of premonition swimming uncomfortably in your gut. All these happy children running around, excited families, jubilant music, gaiety wall colors and diverse artwork conspiring together in the restaurant's corners...

               An evil veil. 

And you'd been a willing participant this whole time. How was it that you were just now questioning yourself? 

Peter's dark hand of Control seemed to've disengaged its poisonous grip on you, and your mind was free to roam on its own accord. 

               This is wrong, 

your morality whispered from the neglected depths of your conscience as you gazed out at this busy dining area. Perchance all this revolt may've re-awoken after Peter's detestable promise on you remaining in his possession no matter how many years passed. 

Never mind the fact you were adopted. Never mind partaking in deplorable acts with Him. Never mind being the son of a dead Fazbear.

You didn't belong here, and it was time to elude. With that toxic alternative mysteriously absent you had a chance. But how was one to do this?

Your nerve was drowned in a torrent of anxiety. So many desires and possibilities nearly overwhelmed your focus. You desired to reveal your identity, you desired to alert law enforcement, to have Peter exposed as the abomination he most definitely was.

However, believe it or not, all this was easier said than done. Although you possessed a new will you were still pulling on rough chains. Uncertainty towered over from behind you like a dark silhouette. Your pulse steadily rose, close to a frenzy. Zan's voice:

"Hey Pup!" He strolled by in the bright yellow Fredbear suit, lifting an arm in greeting.

"I get a promotion and still have to wear this crappy thing. Can you believe it?" 

"Zan!" you nearly shouted without intention.

"What's up?" He stopped in his tracks. Your eyes wiped all over the ceiling and corners, locating every camera there could possibly be.

"I, uh—" you started but lost the sentence. You backed further away from the dining area near a corner, a blind-spot in Peter's radar.

"You alright?" he asked when noticing your behavior. He took a couple steps closer and you put your hand out, stopping him. Both of you disappearing from camera range would've been too suspicious.

"Can I ... ask you a question?" you planned poorly on this but that was the issue; you still didn't know what to say and how to say it.

"Sure?"

"What would you do if you saw someone who was considered 'wanted', but like...not in a bad way..." You dug your nails into both sleeves, tensing up.

"I'm...not sure what you're trying to ask." he responded. 

"Like . . ." You paused to find clearer wording.

"What if you came across someone who was apparently missing?" 

There was little reaction from the latter. He still wasn't comprehending. You were at such a war with yourself that it felt like your body was being agonizingly split in half. You slapped both hands on your face and slowly moved the mask upwards.

               But Peter—

the last of you that'd been loyal up to this point spoke in protest.