FNIA: Soul

Dreams and Literature

Pain. It gets to the point that only so much can be taken until the receiver of such can no longer respond. No screams, no grunts; If they were cursed to still be conscious for such a thing, all they could do is wish for it to be over. That was something Mike was familiar with and constantly had to remind himself of as the kicking continued. He couldn't understand why this was happening to him. Perhaps some just love to engage in the basic human affinity to violence and will use any excuse to engage in it, no matter how petty.

Suddenly, the screaming began once again... But it wasn't Mike's. They started out loud, but soon grew quieter until nothing was heard at all. The silence only caused Mike's anxiety to grow, but that was nothing compared to the sharp increase of it when he heard the shuffling of feet; a sound that grew louder and louder with each step. Suddenly, it was silent again. Before long, a hand was thrust into his blurry field of vision as he heard, "Hey, are you okay?"

But like always, Mike could never answer that question as every time he heard it, he always opened his eyes and found himself in his bedroom.

"That dream again..." he sighed as he tirelessly sat up.

But he had no time to dwell on such a recurring dream for it was time for him to prepare for work. It was only his sixth night on the job, but he already was used to the preparation stage. Getting dressed and embarking to a fairly new location to him was already standard. He would arrive at his place of employment and enter the almost vacated premises to begin hi-

"Gotcha!" a pair of golden arms wrapped around Mike and pulled him towards their owner.

"S-Spring-Bonnie?!" Mike exclaimed. Though initially surprised, it was quickly pushed aside by a single burning question. "...Where you waiting for me at the door?"

"Mm-hmm," the gold animatronic answered, happily squeezing him tighter. "Foxy's been hogging you for the last two nights, so I wanted to make sure I got to you before she did."

Mike blankly stared at Spring-Bonnie and then looked away. If it wasn't for what Foxy said last night, I might have taken this in a more negative light...

A solemn sigh broke through his lips, prompting Spring-Bonnie to ask, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just... Nothing."

Spring-Bonnie silently stared at the night guard before suddenly released her grip on him, an action that left Mike bewildered. She then gently squeezed his right hand and led him down the hallway.

"Where are we going?" Mike asked.

"You'll see," Spring-Bonnie answered with a coy wink.

...

Though he had just arrived, Mike was sure that the most confounding aspect of his night was Spring-Bonnie willingly breaking her hug. At the moment it still was, but laying on a spread of highly decorated prize boxes was a close second.

Marionette walked past the confused young man and, with a pen and clipboard in hand, sat on another prize box next to him. "So, what brings you in here today, Night Guard?"

"Marionette, you run after-hours therapy?"

"Yep. I like to think of it as an extension of my day job, but instead of securing children and prizes, I'm securing the minds of my patients."

Mike silently stared Marionette with a worried expression.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm only in therapist mode when I'm asked too, so it's not like I'll be psycho-analyzing you 24/7," she gently assured him.

"Oh. Okay," Mike nodded.

"So... What brings you in here today, Night Guard?"

"Well... Spring-Bonnie suggested I come in here."