A/N
I will be narrating with 'I' because it's a lot easier for me. And for you too. Maybe. Thank you. Yer welcome.
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BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE—
I smashed my fist down on the snooze button. I raised my head and looked at the alarm on the floor. I plopped my head back on my pillow...only to quickly lift it back up. I reached down and grabbed the thing and checked to make sure I didn't damage it. Luckily, I didn't. I tossed it on my bed and got ready for Hell.
Hell? I meant work. I work at a small place called Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. I don't mind it there. It's usually fun and...and...boring. It's actually really fucking boring. Being on the day shift, I work 12 hours and it's the same shit every day. Children screaming and laughing at the creepy-ass animatronics while eating shitty pizza and playing arcade games, half of which are out of order. When I don't really have to do anything, I just sit and watch my phone. Nothing special. My coworkers are nice. Some work the night shift, and they never tell me about it. Not that I really ask.
I pulled a shirt over my head and tried to find clean leggings. After looking everywhere in my drawer about 6 times around, I came to the conclusion that I didn't have any. I opened the next drawer and found a skirt.
I was allowed to wear a skirt. Actually, the dress code, as a female, was that I had to wear one, but I brought it up with my boss and explained that I wasn't comfortable wearing one everyday. Not that I'm worried about getting harassed by the other employees or even the customers, I just don't think I need to be in a skirt around children. That's just weird.
After I explained as much, Boss allowed me to wear the leggings instead. He said to bring a few skirts just in case. Knowing full well I wouldn't be wearing them, I accepted the devilish torture devices since I was new and didn't want to get fired on my first day.
I held the damn thing in my hands, seriously debating on calling in sick. Or drunk. They legally can't make me come to work if I'm wasted. After some moral contemplation, I forced the stupid thing on me. I looked in the mirror and saw it wasn't asscheek-short, which was good. Not that I wouldn't cut a fucker if they tried to grab me regardless. I put my hair in a bun, grabbed my keys, phone, and notepad, then headed outside to my car.
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I pulled into the parking lot and walked into the building. As soon as my foot hit the floor, Mike came running at me from the left, his arms out and aiming for me. Reacting as I would to a threat, I grabbed his arm and threw him over my shoulder. He landed on the floor with a thud.
"Why on Earth would you run at me like that?" I asked him. "I could've hurt you."
Mike only shrugged. As I got off of him, I looked at his face and saw that it was twisted into a creepy-ass smile. Like he wasn't even here. Daydreaming. Sort of.
"Are you on drugs?" I muttered, backing away stiffly, tensed if he tried to come at me again.
"Stop screaming at me..." He groaned, lifting his hands to his face and pulling down.
I was not screaming.
He might be having a hangover. But why would he drink? I wondered.
"Okay. But wh-?"
"SHHH!" Mike suddenly whisper/shouted. "The marshmallows are talking..."
Yep, I thought. He is definitely on drugs.
Suddenly, I heard snickering coming from the Parts and Service Room. My head automatically turned to that direction. The soundwas too familiar.
"Afton," I growled loud and clear enough for him to hear.
The man stepped out from the room and walked over to me. He was taller than me by a lot. Size didn't matter because I knew I could kick his ass if I wanted to. But that wasn't even what was strange about Vincent. Dude's hair was bright purple. Naturally, but that shit ain't natural at all.
"Yes?" Vincent purred in his normal flirtatious voice. It always ticked me off.
"What did you do?" I demanded, clearly angry. Vincent grinned.
"Why do I have to have done something?"
"When are you ever not responsible for somethin'?" I barked. "What'd you do to Mike, dumbass?" Vincent seemed to have gotten the idea that I was being serious and was concerned about Mike. And I was. Mike was a really good friend of mine.
"Oh." Vincent stepped to the side of me and gazed over my head at Mike. He looked back at me. "I put ecstasy in his coffee this morning."
"And, tell me: why the fuckin' hell would you do that?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose while tapping my foot on the tile floor.
"Because it was funny."
My glare shot to him. He didn't have a shred of remorse in his expression. That was the thing with Vincent. He's a fucking idiot. There was something very wrong with the man. Very, very wrong.
"Ugh." I put my palms to my face. "I don't have the mental capacity for this."
I dropped my hands at the sound of his approaching footsteps and I crossed my arms. As Vincent looked me over, something clearly caught his eyes because he looked at my face and smirked.
"Cute skirt," he commented. I flipped him off.
"Fuck you," I growled, turning away so he didn't see my blush. I started marching away in indignation when Vincent called out to me.
"Oh, Y/N!" I turned around and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Boss-Man wants to talk with you."
I turned around fully to stare at Vincent. I looked him up and down, admiring his purple hair and how good he looks in uniform. My eyes drifted to his neck and I noticed a spot on his collar. It looked like...blood. That was worrying. Or maybe he nicked himself while shaving. However, his deep purple, nearly-looking-black colored stubble said otherwise. Unease filled me.
"Okay." I turned back around. "Thanks for the heads up. And can you, uh, take care of that?" I waved my hand at Mike who was currently walking in circles, stopping every now and then to do a random TikTok dance.
I started walking a little bit. It'd look bad on us if Vincent just had a random bloodstain. What would the kids think if they saw it? I stopped and pivoted my body to once more look at Vincent. "And also, you might want to wash off that bloodstain." I vaguely gestured to my own neck as an example as I turned back around and headed to the boss's office.
"Always takin' such care of your lil' ol' Vinny," Vincent crooned, making me grit my teeth. He did not just call himself mine.
YOU ARE READING
Vincent x Reader FNaF
FanfictionVincent, a psychopath, killer, murderer. You a 24 year old woman, not far from him. READ PLEASE.