A Guard's life

Midnight Tea Party

A/N: owo wats dis? - oralite who had been so kind to beta-read and help me out! You're a gift to this world!
I aplogize for it being late :v
I hope you'll enjoy! :D

-------------------------

Phoney led Ethan, Mike, Dave and Old Sport to the living room, where they sat down promptly and in the dead, unnatural light of the single lost light on the ceiling, the room looked even more depressing than it looked when Mike had been there the first time.
At least the warm kettle of tea was making it seem more homely.
Phoney handed everyone a cup and the sat down with them. Or at least he'd WANTED to hand everybody a cup, but sadly he didn't have enough there, so Dave and Old Sport had to use a glass instead.
They stayed silent for a moment, each of them trying to process the events for themselves. The only exception was Mike who simply laid his head onto the table, the pain in his head growing stronger and stronger with each passing minute.
The first one to speak was Ethan.
"To recap tonight's events. Dave Miller and..." For a moment he paused, trying to remember the name of the Orange Guard. The man was somewhat forgettable, he had looked it up three times already in private and was always surprised when it popped up. "... Old Sport...entered the woods at night, with questionable motives. Whatever their plans was, it was interrupted by the realization that apparently... damaged versions of the animatronics roam the forest. Damaged animatronics which, apparently, nobody knew about. That scream like children. That are potentially- no, probably incredibly dangerous. Something you're aware of, seeing your reactions." Leaning forward, a hard expression on his face he looked at each of them in order. "How could this have happened?"
"Fire." Old Sport shrugged.
"Yeah, we're- I mean, can ya blame us? We thought they all burnt up!"
"You want to tell me THAT story? You honestly think you can pull that one over me?"
"Got away with worse stuff, just bein' honest!"
Distressed, the detective leaned back, rubbing his face. This night had become beyond wild and it was difficult to hold himself together.
Simon quietly added to, in hopes to ease Ethan's nerves. "I have to reassure you that we didn't know about this until tonight."
"And I must respond that I see that as very unlikely, since you left your house conveniently with a weapon that is capable of scaring them away?"
"Listen. Those two-" Simon signed at Dave and Old Sport. "- they're always up to... trouble. It's Halloween. Or- it was. Which means they're especially... active."
The conversation went on, but that was as much as Mike could listen to. His head on the table, he slowly closed his eyes, until the voices became quiet whispers in the background. The constant chatter was tiring.
Outside.
Outside.
They're all outside.
Take.
Care.
They're
So
Young-
Reaching into his pocket, he wanted to calm his raging headache down again. He almost managed to last a full day on the pills he had taken the morning, but of course his luck had to run thin. While fumbling around, he was interrupted by Phone Guy calling out to him. "-Mike?"
When he saw he got his attention, he worriedly tilted his head a bit and leaned closer. "... why are you even here? Did... did something happen?"
"Hm-?" He glared up after a brief moment, realizing all of them were staring at him.
"Of all of us, you have the least reason to be here."
"Fuck you... can't I be... wherever the fuck I want to be?" Scoffing he rubbed his temples and attempted to remember. "... didn't... you call me? Somebody called me. You called me. I-"
Of all people, it was Old Sport who seemed interested.
And in the way he softly tilted his head and something flickered-
Oddly familiar-
"Maybe the robots?" It didn't SOUND right either. Too smooth.
Too smooth- movements- creating- discomfort-
Thinking was hard. He blinked a few moments. "Fucking yes you genius. They went to a fucking payphone and prank called me after stealing a fucking quarter from the nearest ice cream shop."
"You would be surprised..." A smile was on his face, it wasn't a smile Mike had liked-
Too familiar, too familiar-
"I just walked off. Maybe. Fuck. I don't know, okay? I thought I remembered- something- and went to visit the Phone. That isn't illegal, is it?!"
The detective leaned back, even if something in his expression seemed ready to argue that it was.
But he stayed quiet, instead it was the Orange Guy of all people who leaned in a bit, smiling. "Not illegal, no. But odd. Do you not agree?"
"Shut up-Let me- let me just take my pills, it'll be-"
"No. No, no. Wait with that for a moment." Orange Guy seemed a bit too interested.
It made every person at the table uncomfortable.
"Old Sport? Are ya... alright?" Dave shifted, his discontentment growing.
"Hm... yes. I am good."
Another pause ensued, interrupted by someone Mike didn't want to see at all.
Sure fucking thing, there Pinkfuck Mcgee was. Standing in the door, talking to him.
"Michael. It is overdue that we have a talk."
Suppressing the urge to ask him what the fuck HE was doing here, the man was caught between just swallowing a pill and getting rid of it, instead of-
"I think I may be able to answer a few questions."
... fuck yourself.
But.
It was a strong lure. The one lure he would follow.
Standing up he glanced around.
Nobody dared to say anything to the unstable Guard and the most he got was a nod, especially since Dave was too preoccupied trying to shake the dazed Old Sport out of whatever had come over him.
Leaving the room behind, Henry got moving too when he saw he had the attention of the Guard.
And despite being weary, Mike followed.
They ended up in the small hallway in front of Phoney's room, the furthest point away and the point where Mike didn't want to wait anymore. "Henry fucking Miller."
"Mike Schmidt."
"You damn fucking right that's my name. If you got that into your thick fucking skull, why did you call me fucking Michael before?!" The man was earnestly annoyed with that.
"Because it is always sure to get your... attention." Leaning back against the wall, his black eyes wandered over Mike, making him extremely uncomfortable. "And this is a pressing issue, especially since my time talking to you is, to put swiftly, limited."
"Why." This wasn't directly aimed at the statement, but the situation in general.
"The nature of the soul is an odd one and the realms are complicated to explain. Each realm follows its own set of rules. Today is still the night of Halloween and while I am not sure as to HOW and WHY, it seems that the realm's walls become... thinner. An influx of energy? Possibly. Human traditions tend to have roots, Mike. Anyways. While I am constantly aware, unlike the children you spend your time with, I am incapable of leaving... of communicating. Yes, leaving would be the wrong word, as it would imply I possess something."
"You... don't...?" This was getting fucking confusing rather quickly.
"No. It would not be possible to possess Dave, due to his rather unique soul. Also I lack the presence of my own soul to do so. I did never technically die..." Trailing off something hard and cold moved into his expression, before it vanished again as he smiled. "... if it helps you understand- I am merely projecting and watching via a thin connection of a body. I am not truly here... or at least I am here as much as tiny men are caught in your television." Shaking his head, the Pink Guy eyed Guard carefully, trying to judge if he used the right words to make this complex issue a bit more understandable.
Since no backlash came from the other man, he continued. "This is not unlike the bodies you have seen before. The children without their animatronics, the Marionette's way of watching the restaurant, the weird creation Dave gifted his... friend... all those were technically speaking projections of the highly energetic soul." Apparently he expected Mike to keep up with his words, so there was no pause as he continued.
"Soul has no technical amount of form, but mind and body molds it to fit whatever currently is the vessel. For the animatronics this is valuable, as the soul needs to overcome the extreme change between their first and their new body. While the humanoid projection has no practical use, it seems to bring them comfort and increased sense of self."
"...?" Silently the Guard tried to figure out where this was going. Sure. It was nice to know why the fuck he sometimes saw humanoid ghosties- it freaked him out thinking back of it- but didn't the asshole JUST say they didn't have much time?
"Which leads me to another form of possession. It is rather interesting to look at, though the implications are far more fascinating overall. You see Mike, the creatures following you around, back in the forest... Did you, perhaps, notice anything particularly peculiar on them?"
"... they seemed to have partially things hanging from them."
"Organic matter, yes. You could say they looked... stuffed. Fascinating, was it not?"
"I'd rather say disgusting." Before Mike's eyes, the world started spinning. The aggressive Guard didn't feel too good in Henry's presence.
"If you say so. But the implications are delightful. Their bodies are dead and they finally are shedding themselves from their attachment to the form of it. Which in turn opens... options. They are melting into their new bodies. Accepting them."
At this point it felt like something was slowly burning through his brain. "You wanted to tell me how the fuck I got here?"
"Why... yes. Apologies. It is all connected, so excuse me making no sense at first. You have something attached to you as well. It urges you to help. And I am here to tell you... not the opposite, but to implore you to try something different." At that he paused, his smile becoming a bit wider. "Before you complain, I agree, why should you trust me? Ignoring the fact that the souls are just at untrustworthy and dare I say human as I am, they are also not the all-knowing beings they enjoy pretending to be. He thinks he knows what the children need. He does not. I do."
"So you're that magical all-knowing fu-"
"I am an adult, Mike. I indeed have some more competency than a child."
"... arguing is always possible."
Slowly shaking his head Henry glanced him up and down, but seemingly decided to drop it. "I know who is accompanying you. A soft-hearted kid. Too soft-hearted maybe. Soft heart, soft mind- in a way it became his strength. He never did much on his own. But he was quite talented at uniting people under him. Admirable, I will not take that from him. But by far not enough... what did he do to you?"
The bitter taste of regret filled Mike's mouth, but he wasn't sure where it came from.
Probably from following that fucker and now being stuck listening to his insane ramblings.
"Nobody did anything to me, what the living FUCK-"
Without any regards to the guy he was speaking to, Henry continued. "He lured you out into the woods with no protection to do... what exactly? Thinking you would be capable to convince them? They barely know what they are anymore. The dream of reasoning with these creatures is a naïve one, dangerous as well... but if it is only costs the life of an adult man, then it is a risk worth taking, is it not? Well. I disagree... seeing as there is no way it will in any way aid to their goal. You, as well as them has much more purpose you could fulfill, there is no need for this waste... my reasoning for offering you assistance... a second time."
"For someone who talks about having to fucking hurry, you're an awful fucking chatterbox." His head hurt not as much anymore, but he felt incredibly tried. Lacking all energy.
"You must be the first man following the promise of knowledge, then proceeding to complain about too much information." Calmly he let his glance wander over the man. "Alas. You are indeed correct. So I will tell you what to do... that is what your kind like, is it not?"
The soft snicker and condescending tone made Mike snap up. "My fucking kind?"
"... heroes. Heroes are supposed to follow their destiny. Or at least that is how the story goes... excuse my light teasing. My social skills have rapidly depleted in the years I spent... on my own. So, let me explain what you need to do; starting with the obvious- you need to get them out of the forest, away from a place where they can harm themselves and others. Common sense, dare I say. For that you will have to lure them into my workshop, which will prove itself quite difficult, seeing as the way down there is made for... calm creatures."
"Creatures?"
"It is a workshop. The word 'creature' includes pretty much everything capable of independent movement, seeing as I have transported quite a number of different being down and up the elevator."
"That sounds fucking horrific."
"Yes, indeed, what a crime taking a docile animal down there to study its movements in order to imitate their behavior to a certain degree. Terrifying."
"You're such a fucking freak-"
"Mike Schmidt. I have worked long and hard on my animatronics and at the current moment we have a higher priorities than question my methods." Raising his head, looking outside as if spotting something, he paused, then his focus went back to Mike, his voice harsher now. "William will aid you, if you chose to finally come to your senses. Believe me, the sooner, the better... I am not yet certain what may happens if you leave them to roam."
With that he abruptly turned around and left. "No more time. Good day to you, I hope we have soon more opportunity to talk."
"Wait, wait, wait, you can't just fuck off after spewing all that-"
BUT HE COULD!
AND HE FUCKING DID!
Around the corner and gone.
What an asshole.
For a moment Mike stared at the point where Henry had disappeared, not really knowing what to do. Halfway he could hear a discussion coming from the living room.
Shit.
He should probably join that.
Uncertain he moved towards the room and came early enough in to hear Simon saying in a rather stressed voice "Either way, this has been long enough. If you would mind, could you all leave? I need sleep."
"Are you joking?! We need to call backup! They are STILL ROAMING! Return my phone, this instant!"
"Chillax, budster! Those thingies stop movin' at six!"
"It is nowhere near that time! Even if, they need to be taken care of. They are dangerous-"
"We took care of it last time, Mr. Cross, we will be able to take care of it this time.
"Last time was already bad enough. But at least last time you were instantly on the case, as soon as they escaped. These have been out here for some time! This is NOT safe-"
Just hearing the chaotic mess of voices made Mike instantly feel sick again.
His mouth tasted red, but he couldn't remember biting his tongue-
Barging in, Mike stared down Ethan, who had a rather aggressive stance and was reacting accordingly to the man- he was a perfect mirror to his own anger.
"Stay fucking out of this." Stay out of it, stay OUT-
"Are you out of your mind-"
Almost the aggressive Guard moved to grab the detective, but with one small hand movement, Phone Guy made him freeze. "No. Not in here. We all need to go home- I mean- you. I need to... rest."
It was quiet for a minute, then Old Sport lead the small group towards the door and opened it, looking around. It was rather dark, but nothing seemed to be out there. Good thing their glowing eyes would give them away!
"This is not safe." The detective moved around. "They pursued us. Whoever programmed them, programmed them with the intent of damaging people!"
"Maybe just us." Between tired and angry Mike began walking forward, just to abruptly stop as the sound of mechanical clicking and an odd booting up sound. Lights flared up in the darkness.
The burnt Chica stepped forward and everyone reached for the weapons- if available. Surprisingly enough it actually made her stop in her movements and she resulted to make weird, cut off screeches.
Neither of them seemed to know what to do, so they hesitated and waited, frozen in place.
A while passed and Chica became quiet too. Then she stepped closer once more.
"What in god's name is happening?" Poor Ethan. The only one around here who hadn't been ready for this madness. In his lifetime he had seen many horrible crimes. Things that were utterly despicable, almost inhuman. He had meet people with empty eyes and an even emptier smile, with no care or empathy for any other human or non-human creature, he had seen people pushed into horrible situations with even more abhorrent coping mechanisms-
But this was beyond human.
This was beyond reality.
Slowly the chicken inched closer, very careful to not anger the men standing in front of her.
The white orbs inside that damaged head burnt themselves into Ethan. He hadn't seen anything like it before.
It looked monstrous.
... but... it didn't seem dangerous.
As it was rather close now, he nervously glanced at the other people around him, who all were fixated on the creature. One angry, one bored, one curious and one... one he wasn't sure about, since all he saw was a Phone weirdly reflecting the lights in front of it.
At first he couldn't talk, his throat only allowed a dry cough, but when he regathered, he managed to sound almost confident. "We... the animatronic looks considerably docile- we- can't we just deactivate it right now?"
It made a pathetic squeaking noise in response, but it was drowned out by Dave's snicker. "We ain't deactivating that shit. It ain't powered by some battery, it's usin' the soul of the kiddens I strangled way back!"
Everybody turned to him. "DAVE!"
"Oh shit. Shouldn't have squealed to the fuzz, should I?" He guilty he grinned. "Technically he ain't with the fuzz though, so can ya blame me for forgettin'?"
The blood ran cold through his veins. "You- YOU-"
"Oh shut up, ya big ole idiot." Dave scoffed. "Ya knew it was me. Remember when you caught me, back in- 19... uh... 1970... somewhere after that."
Mind racing Ethan stepped back. "You- the-" But he remembered well. "That couldn't have been YOU."
"Why not?" Dave glared at the Chica again.
"You SHOT YOURSELF."
"Sure. Was a fuckin' bitch to get cleaned up and away while your friendos were swarmin' the place. It's lots easier to get out of a Morgue at night than tryin' to escape while bein' watched!"
"You were DEAD- that man- Richard- you are- you had to be someone- someone else- with the same skin condition-"
"Couldn't believe you fuckin' believed that! It was GREAT! But I guess ya had to believe it. If Phoney could look the same in each place you visited, then why couldn't I? Right? It ain't easy for odd-lookin' people to find a job and Freddy's is famous for hirin' all sort of odd folks, so naturally we gravitate towards there, eh? It was some sort of skin disease or somethin'- just a HUGE coincidence. You're so fuckin' stupid Ethan, I always saw you like a second Phoney." Contempt and disgust were so prevalent in his words that even Mike shuddered a bit. "Always showin' up, messin' with things you shouldn't be worried about-"
"You killed my daughter." With that he had raised his weapon at Dave, his expression almost blank- until it slowly turned into intense rage. "YOU KILLED MY DAUGHTER!"
Painfully the tip of a Taser was shoved between his shoulders. "I wouldn't do that." Old Sport calmly petted him with his free hand.
Meanwhile Dave only smiled. "Ah, Sportsy, don't cha worry. What is he gonna do, shoot me? Plenty of people did that before, lemme tell ya. Come on, Old Detective. Shoot me. See if I care. Gimme the gun, I'll even shoot myself for ya!"
This couldn't be real, this couldn't be real at all.
His hand shivered as he looked around at the two other present men. "Y-you knew."
Mike shook his head and looked away, his mouth feeling sealed.
Phone Guy's lack of facial expression made his words feel even worse. "That's just the Freddy's way, sir. I would have stopped it if I could."
There was a very certain type of terror in being surrounded by people that have accepted murdering children as a normal occurrence.
But while he was still frozen in the horrifying realization, Chica screamed out, moving from side to side, shaking its head in a way that made it unclear if it was an actual gesture or just the animatronic glitching around. Old Sport promptly stepped back to have his weapon free in case it would attack them-
Yet somehow it surprised them that it actually did.
In a rather violent movement, the heavy creature jumped at the Orange Guard, who managed to hit it with the Taser as it approached, but the movement alone was enough to still be faced and crushed by a shitton of metal, resulting in a cry of pain.
"SPORTSY-" Dave was in on the action almost instantly, tackling the machine full force and getting it off like that from his friend. "DON'T YOU TOUCH MY ORANGE BABY YOU SHITBAG!"
The animatronic monster screeched and pecked at him, resulting in a huge spot at his shoulder, slowly dripping blood.
Mike cracked up, unmoving, his flickered. "How unfair of you. She's unarmed!"
"Is that really the place for puns, employee?!" At least Simon seemed rather worried, stepping back.
"Let's go back in..." Was the only answer.
"Y-you two-" Unbelieving Ethan looked between the happenings back and forth.
"He's a child murderer. Fuck, I don't care what happens to him."
"BUT YOU WON'T HAND HIM OVER TO THE POLICE?!"
"Wouldn't do much. Not to mention, it might get our location closed down." With that Mike grabbed Phoney and dragged him in. "You wanna stick around too?"
"You- you're all insane-"
"Buddy. Feel free to die out there. I had a bad fucking night. But let me tell you one thing- you WON'T shut our place down." There was something utterly threatening in the way he said that, as the light from inside the of the house in the made him look like a shadow more so than a human. "You should really cut your losses."
"Did- DID YOU JUST TELL ME TO FORGET ABOUT MY-"
The screech from the side made him shut his mouth.
Dave was standing over the still dazed Old Sport, the frizzling of electricity from his Taser being a constant backdrop. His eyes glowed brightly with anger.
Its foe had retreated, still screaming somehow ANGRILY- But now not attempting to jump them anymore.
As Old Sport stood up, Dave took a moment to smile at Ethan, showing all his teeth. "Ya got out with your life, didn't ya? Go back to your family. You ain't appreciating enough what you still have. I've heard you had a splendid son too? What about him? He ain't dead. Yet you're here, hunting for somethin' you won't ever get back."
"You. You wouldn't understand. You're a monster. You don't know what is like-"
"Ya know what? I could tell you bit about MY family. But I won't, because you ain't worth it. You see only what's right in front of ya, you come to the simplest conclusion and think how they're taught you. Could ya ever imagine seeing a robot as your kid?"
"What are you TALKING about?!"
"Aw, is it too much? You know what, Ethan, I never really liked ya. It kinda hurts not bein' recognized, not gonna lie, even if it's convenient as shit. Fucking around, pretendin' I'm someone else... funny, but I'm tired of it. I'm tired of ya, Ethan! And I'm not about to let ya ruin my hom-"
"Dave." Suddenly Old Sport interrupted. Stumbling closer, he leaned against the Purple Guy, who shocked wrapped an arm around him. "... I want to go home..."
"Oh. I'll just quickly-"
"Now."
"Welp. Ya heard Sportsy, didn't ya?" Already leaving, Dave only shortly glanced at him. "Luck really is your lady, ain't she? Take what you can get. Nobody wants you messin' with this. It's goin' good right now."
With that they disappeared between the trees leaving the utterly horrified man behind.
The guy couldn't move, not yet.
Chica clicked and made a weird noise, before trying to move towards him.
Automatically he raised his gun, despite knowing it'd be useless.
To his surprise it did actually deter the creature. For a moment it froze, then moved back, before turning away and running.
Paranoid he checked behind him, to see if maybe something more dangerous had scared it away, but no. Nothing.
His legs started moving on their own, towards the exit of the forest.
Needed to get out.
Needed to-
Make a plan.
The monster had admitted to killing- not only Evelyn, but so many others as well.
He needed to stop him.
Oh god, he remembered he had seen him shoot himself right through the head, this wasn't possible-
What WAS that thing?!
Stumbling a bit, he again checked around for the glowing eyes of the- things-
Nothing there.
His brain was desperately trying to rationalize what he had heard.
How are dead kids supposed to connect to power, that makes no sense-
Ethan didn't believe in the supernatural.
Never did-
They all admitted to it, all of them without batting an eye-
Not a sliver of regret.
They were all-
He needed to be careful.
They made it rather clear-
A hundred thoughts were storming in on him at the same time, made it impossible to concentrate on one and finding a solution.
But that sure as shit wouldn't stop him from trying.
He knew now. He doubted they would let him live that much longer now that he for certain knew.
Act fast-
Back when he first came to know about what happened, he had decided to kill the animal that did these things.
There had been a certain change in his perspective.
Yes. He was fully aware how wrong it was.
But enough was enough and there was no "fair trial" needed. There was no chance for that... THING... to change. It took too much. Of him. Of others. Of the world.
Robbed the world of so many pure, innocent minds.
There was no need for jail.
It wasn't about rehabilitation.
And no matter what he did, if he ripped out his organs and fed it to him- he NEVER would even be ABLE to stoop down to the murderer's level.
But now he was faced with someone he wouldn't be able to kill-
He would figure out SOMETHING.
He had to.
At least- stop him.
He was still out, around to do horrible crimes.
Even if jail wasn't enough for someone like him, he would have to try- try to keep others save.
He needed to get to him.
He needed someone to talk.
To admit, in public.
Under different circumstances he would have rushed back and forced either of them to help him.
If he had to by force.
But there was one other person he wanted to talk to.
NEEDED to talk to.
Because if that person was in on it, he was most deserving of the threats he would spew at them.
-
The frantic knocking echoed through the flat, making both people inside jump a bit.
"W-who is it?" Utterly fearful Jeremy was frozen, sitting up in bed.
Marion looked confused, first at the door, then at the human, seeing as he didn't make a move to open the door. Sure, it was the most reasonable reaction to hearing a knock on the door in the middle of the night, but since when did Jeremy react normal? A few second of constant ringing later, the Puppet softly touched his shoulder. "To find out you'd need to open, you know that."
"U-Uh... yes... right! I'll... do that." Standing up he hesitantly went to the door. "H-Hello...?"
Since the situation WAS worrying, Marion decided to attach himself on the ceiling over the door, ready to POUNCE, resulting in a small smile from the boy.
"Ethan Cross is here. Open the door."
"O-Oh, right away sir!" Relieved Jerry opened the door and allowed him in.
What the boy didn't seem to notice, but was painfully obvious to the animatronic was the weirdly shifty eyes of the man. He appeared about ready to hurt someone.
Slowly the puppet go ready to attack if he had to.
"If I may ask of you, Mr. Fitzgerald, sit down. We have something to talk about."
Surprised at the serious tone of the man, he sat down. "Yes, sir? Did something come up?"
"You knew." Something sounded dead in his voice. "You all knew. It's time to be honest with me, Mr. Fitzgerald. Kids died, you knew the culprit and you looked me into eyes, without-"
"Sir! What are you talking about?"
"They have admitted it to me, Fitzgerald. It is time you do too."
Hesitant Jeremy shook his head. "I'm really sorry, sir- E-Ethan- please calm down!"
"David Miller is a murderer. A-an immortal one at that-" It was then he realized how insane he sounded.
"... Ethan."
At this point he regretted having allowed Jeremy to refer to him by his first name.
"... y-you need to rest. It's... it's rather late. O-or early, h-hah."
What was he doing?
It was three AM, he just- went straight to the house of a potentially innocent boy-
No. No, no, NO-
They KNEW. They ALL knew.
But at least he felt calmer now.
"Jeremy. You coworker is a murderer. He himself said it."
"... sure about that-? I- excuse me, I just- meant- are you sure he wasn't... joking...?" Rubbing his eyes the young worker was hit full force with his exhaustion.
"I-" Irritated Ethan paused.
Why was he questioning himself right now?
This couldn't be clearer.
They told it themselves.
There was no way to be CLEARER- "There- there are burnt animatronics in the forest-"
"WHAT?" Now the boy was alarmed. "They- burned animatronics?! T-The original ones?"
"Yes... they-"
"That's horrible- they're still here- we didn't- Marion- We-we need tog there-"
"Who is Marion?" Following his conversation partner's glance he looked behind him, but nothing was there.
Meanwhile Jerry had stopped and sat down again. "No... no... I know. It's- it's too late now..."
"Too late for WHAT?" Bothered Ethan stood up a bit, he could swear he heard a noise behind him, but he ignored it. "Listen tonight I found out that man I thought that I murdered- the man that shot himself through the head, declaring he was innocent- was a murderous monster all along and played me for a goddamn fool. I do not CARE about it being too late anymore. I care about finally-"
With teeth and claws he tried to fight back against the louder and louder turning voice screaming him down that this has been a horrible decision.
But that didn't make any sense, the rational was flawed-
Jeremy ripped him out of thoughts. "N-nothing. Nobody. Listen- I'm- I'm really tired, forgive me for that! Please, sir. Let's talk tomorrow. Right after work!"
"Some-something is messing with my head-" Abruptly Ethan stood up and took a deep breath. "You are right. This is the wrong time. It is late. But- I WILL get to the bottom of this. I will stop the Purple Guy. And if it's the last thing I will be doing."
"That's... a rather grim way of looking at it... I'm sure it's just... some sort of misunderstanding!" Smiling Jerry stood up, staggering when he was interrupted by a giant yawn. "S-sorry!"
For a moment Ethan stared him down.
The way he looked at the boy made Marion's body tense up.
"You will help me. You-"
"Of course I will help you!" In a way he seemed a bit bothered. "This seems to really upset you, sir. I wouldn't leave you alone with this!"
So suspicious. So damn suspicious-
His eyes were burning and so did his joints.
Full force all the stress and terror of the night struck and he almost swayed on the spot.
Too late. He pushed it too far.
"A-are you okay, Mr. Ethan?!" Worried Jeremy stepped closer, but an offhand Ethan signed him to stay in place.
"We will speak tomorrow. Sleep well, Jeremy. Excuse my sudden barging in." With that he already disappeared out of the door and was gone.
For a moment the boy stared at the closed door, a sense of dread inside of him.
Slowly he returned to the bedroom, lost in thought. "Do you think... Dave meant it?"
"... referring to his murderous tendencies? YES. YES, JEREMY, I HAVE TRIED TO TELL YOU MANY TIMES."
"For you, everybody looks like a murderer..."
"I never claimed-"
"Either everybody looks to you like a murderer, or you killed people you know are innocent."
It was quiet in the room.
"Good night, Marion! Looks like tomorrow will be rather eventful!" Snuggling into the blankets, he yawned once more. "... I hope it'll solve itself... it would... would be really nice if it's all just... a misunderstanding..."
And as Jeremy fully rolled up, Marion wondered why the fear in Jeremy's voice sounded so unfamiliar.

----------------------

A/N:
Hope you enjoyed! Until next time! °D°