Chapter Twenty- Five

341 18 33
                                    


'If I save him... Will I die?'

I don't know. But...

Just ask yourself.

Is he your friend?

'Yes.'

Is it worth it?

-----------

        When he was younger, Michael had encountered death many times. The first was his mother. She didn't show up one night, and no one knew what had happened to her since.

        His sister didn't listen to people, always wanting what was dangerous for her. She'd been warned, but... You know what they say about curiosity, and cats.

        Michael's brother, Preacher, was always frightened, and for years it seems no one knew why. Fredbear drove him to near hysteria... Turns out he really did practice a form of a sermon, warning people of dangers that were hidden. A true deacon.

        His father had a sort of symbolic death- he was no longer himself. He'd seemed to drag himself down after all of these years...

        But they're still here. Somewhere.

        Michael himself had even understood death, years before; he'd come to terms with it.

        They're all remnants of themselves; the charges of this place.

-----------

        Soft breathing...

        Michael couldn't even move; both Jeremy and the Mangle had fallen on him. Scott helped pry the animatronic away, screeching wildly, fighting in Scott's arms. He handed it off to another employee, softly telling another to call an ambulance.

        "Jeremy, can you hear me?" Scott's tone was level- they had gone through this before. "If you can understand me, try to take small breaths." Michael was already taking his jacket off (a miracle with how badly his hands were shaking), using it to put pressure on Jeremy's head and hopefully recede the bleeding. It was soaking through the younger man's hair, turning the soft brown into a messy auburn.

        Jeremy was twitching, a bad sign. "He's already having spasms..."

        "The ambulance will get here when it gets here," Scott mumbled. "Hold his head."

        "I..." He could feel the tears coming on, already knowing that he couldn't cry, he couldn't cry, he couldn't cry.

Eyes of PurpleWhere stories live. Discover now