A Brother's Sorrow (adopted from @Eris345)

Chapter 29

William had been wandering the decrepit halls of this shack that was referred to as an establishment for almost a week now, and boy was he tired. He hadn't felt this amount of laziness since his college years, and now the maltreatment of his body for 30 years was definitively taking its toll. Despite not needing to breathe, he felt out of breath. Despite his muscles being decayed beyond nerve usability, he still felt sore. Death was a bitch, he could say that now at least, or he could if his vocal cords hadn't been eaten by carnivorous rats.

Meanwhile, the security guard was blasting Katy Perry and Taylor Swift's music through the speakers of the attraction, wearing his favorite sound-cancelling headphones. He snickered as he imagined the tortured gurgles of the ancient rabbit and the muffled screaming of the Phantoms that haunted the establishment. Even so, he forced himself to shield his eyes from the corpses that wandered the halls.
They were so blatantly there, yet nobody else could see them. The mangled corpses of deceased children, most likely the murder victims from the Fazbear case 30 years prior. They drifted towards the man every night, whispering for bloody vengeance. Yet, the man couldn't help them, and now was torturing them.

The guard finally peeked at his watch, only to see a child standing there, a rope tied around his neck. He appeared older than the rest, approximately 12 or 13 as the man estimated, a mere 7 years younger than him. Heck, it could've been his younger brother who died in a bus accident the year prior. He removed his headphones, wincing at the music selection he had made to torture the weird zombie rabbit he'd seen roaming the halls. He turned off the playlist and faced the ghost, speculating as to what the boy could want.

"Sir, please help me," the boy whispered, clinging to the man's arm in a desperate mannerism.

The man froze, noting it was only about 4 am, before turning his attention to the ghost. "Y-you....you can speak? Like normally?"

The ghost face palmed. "Please, they need your help. Help me, before it's too late."

The guard sighed, running a hand through his messy, auburn hair. "Alright kid. I'll help. But how'd you know that I could help?"

"You were watching us from day one. You could see them," the child hissed, sounding a tad annoyed. "I'm shocked you didn't choose to help earlier."

"Well, us millenials don't like getting involved in much of anything," the man responded, chuckling. "I should...um...introduce myself I suppose. The name's Willow. Willow Miller"

The boy giggled. "Isn't that a girl's name?"

"Long story," Willow responded. "So what's yours, if you remem-"

"My name is Christopher Patrick Afton," he said. "Pleasure to actually find someone to converse with."

Willow nodded, reaching out to shake the boys hand, only to have it phase through him. "Um..."

Springtrap suddenly burst through the opening, his eyes seeming to glow red with fury. Throwing himself into the air and doing a somersault,he landed in a perfect split. Thrusting his arms into the stale, musty air, he shouted, "WILLY'S HERE!"