Purplephone Oneshots! (Scottcent)

Everything Stays

"Let's go in the garden
You'll find something waiting
Right there where you left it                                                                                                                                   Lying upside down"

1:20am,  Feb, 5, 2003

Vincent quietly stepped into the old, run down pizzeria, sighing. He knew he would come back here one day, just... Not this soon. Looking down, he shuffled his shoe against the dirtied old carpet, covered by the years. The pattern of printed on confetti faded against the ugly blue background. He stood in the doorway, the crusted red paint crumbling on his hand. Glancing back at the parking lot, he saw the golden yellow statue next to the doors. Wondering if he should go back, he felt a sickening urge to run when he finally did land eyes with the rotted statue. 

He stared at it for a long time. Hours, maybe days, it felt like a whole eternity. Eventually he turned away, closing his eyes tight. It had been 20 years. 20 whole years since '83. He had almost forgotten it. The question was, did he want to forget it? He had always been told to think of the good times, the happy memories. Those only brought remorse. He knew it wasn't his fault, and though he hated children and had been framed for the disappearances in the past which, he had been blamed rightfully so, he still felt a pit in his stomach. A hole in his heart, underlying guilt. Had he stopped his urges to hurt others, had he been paying attention... His son. He loved him. His son. 

1:24am, Feb, 5, 2003

Stepping into the pizzeria fully, he opened his eyes. The door creaked behind him as they closed. He always thought it weird to have steel doors as their entrance, and not, per se, glass? Henry disagreed. 

 "Gives it a more home-y feeling," He recalled him saying when designing the building.

"Makes it feel more uninviting, to not have windows, don't you think?" Though, when he said that, he didn't fully disagree with Henry. Not at all. Of all people to want to stay off the radar, William was one. 

William Vincent Afton was one, definitely.  

"When you finally find it                                                                                                                                                  You'll see how it's faded                                                                                                                                              The underside is lighter                                                                                                                                            When you turn it around"

1:30am, Feb, 5, 2003

Vincent looked back at the doors, taking a deep breath. For his own sake, it'd be better to avoid the stage for now. It's been so long since he's seen the layout of the place, though he fondly remembered it. 

"If I go left," He muttered, blinking, closing his eyes. Trying to picture the building in his mind. "The stage." He looked to his right, the dark hall lingering. He wasn't afraid, though. The only thing scary here was him, one of the main reasons this place shut down. He has no reason to be scared. He stood up straight, walking up to the front desk. It looked abandoned, as if frozen in time. After '83 the place immediately closed doors. He wasn't even sure if the blood was cleaned or not. Or if the bodies in the back were...- 

Vincent ran his finger across the dust on the desk, then rubbed his index and thumb together, sighing. He missed this place, as if it was home. A sick and cold home, but home. He peeked over the desk, scanning the paper. A list of birthday parties. Who knows how old these kids are now, or if they even remember this place. Vincent's stomach churned. He wanted to say sorry. He wanted to apologize. For what, he wasn't sure.  For a while, he explored, until he knew it was time. He had to see the stage. 

He couldn't avoid it any longer. 

"Everything stays
Right where you left it
Everything stays
But it still changes"

1:40am, Feb, 5, 2003

Vincent turned to the stage, his gut sinking. He didn't want to go. Yet... Still, his feet moved. Left. Right. Left. Right. Down the hall. He felt as if he was gonna vomit. He closed his eyes and made his way up to the stage. His body was shaking. Why did he come here? What influenced him to come here? Was it his son's room, still untouched in his house? 

Vincent looked up, hearing screams. Then running. People were shouting. He stepped out of the back room, his eyes widening. Freddy, his son... the blood. His son hung from Freddy's animatronic jaws, which were still opening and closing, blood gushing from his mouth, crushing his son's temple. Vincent ran over as fast as he could, feeling tears bead at his eyes. He looked over at the group of children in animatronic masks nearest to the stage, blood splattered on them. "Michael!" He shouted over the other screams, waiting for the jaws of the bear to be shut off. "What did you DO?!?"

"Ever so slightly
Daily and nightly
In little ways
When everything stays"

1:45am, Feb, 5, 2003

It all came back in a flash. Vincent's eyes opened, facing the two robots. The bear... Freddy. Oh god. It's jaws were tainted with blood, stained on the golden yellow fur. Stuck in place. Frozen in time. Vincent wanted to scream, he wanted to tear the bear off of the stage. Grab the curtains and pull them down, unpeel the child friendly wallpaper. He wanted to scream until his throat gave out. But... He just stood there.

Tears began falling down his face, choking on his own words. He wanted to say so much. He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to say he missed him. 

But all that came out was, "Michael..."