The Adult's POV
The grown-ups huddled near the counter, voices soft but strained beneath the cheery music pumping out of the stage speakers. Freddy and his friends danced on stage, but nobody was really watching.
“Have you found Susie?” her mother asked, her voice trembling just enough to crack. She twisted a napkin in her hands until it looked like a shredded rope.
William let out a slow sigh, just the right amount of weariness in it, lowering his gaze to the floor like it pained him to say the words. “I’m afraid not. I even called the night guard last night—asked if maybe she’d turned up after hours.” He shook his head, hazel eyes dimming with practiced sorrow. “Nothing.”
Maggie gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth. The color drained from her face.
William turned smoothly, resting a steady hand on her shoulder. His voice dropped to that low, reassuring register that wrapped around people like a blanket. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”
“Are you sure?” Maggie whispered, voice cracking as if she didn’t believe anyone could promise such a thing.
William gave her a smile—soft, gentle, perfectly rehearsed. The kind of smile that said trust me, I know what I’m doing.
“Absolutely,” he said. Convincing. Certain. A lie polished into truth.
From the corner of his eye, William spotted movement. Four kids at a booth, all leaning forward just a little too far, pretending to argue over a plate of pizza but straining to catch every word.
Jeremy’s elbows were on the table, chin in his hands, his blue eyes flicking toward the adults every other second. Fritz had stopped fiddling with the straw wrappers and was scowling, clearly frustrated. And Gabriel—sweet, timid Gabriel—was being shoved forward. Cassidy whispered something sharp in his ear, probably about “working on his social skills,” and gave him one last push.
Gabriel stumbled a step closer to the group of adults, wringing his hands. He glanced up at William with wide eyes, hesitated, then finally found his voice.
“Um… Mister Afton?” he asked softly. “Do you… do you think Susie’s okay?”
The entire group went quiet, waiting. Even Susie’s mom froze, staring at William like the answer mattered more than anything.
William crouched down so he was eye-level with Gabriel, his expression softening with immaculate care. He placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder—light, careful, not too heavy. Just enough.
“I think your friend is very brave,” William said gently, voice smooth as honey. “And I think… if we all keep looking, and we all believe, she’s going to be just fine.”
Gabriel’s lips trembled, but he nodded slowly, as if William’s words had stitched a small patch over the fear in his chest.
“Th-thank you…” he mumbled.
“Of course,” William said smoothly, patting his shoulder once more before standing up. His posture was calm, steady—heroic, almost. “Now, why don’t you all go enjoy yourselves, hm? Play some games. I’ll keep looking.”
He smiled. That soft, gentle smile.
The kids exchanged glances. Jeremy sat up straighter, clearly wanting to believe him. Fritz muttered, “Told you she’s fine,” though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. Cassidy rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, which was unusual enough that it almost counted as agreement.
The adults, meanwhile, seemed to collectively exhale. Susie’s mom’s shoulders dropped, her grip on the shredded napkin loosening. “Thank you, William,” she whispered. “You’ve been so… so kind through all of this. More than anyone else.”
William gave her a small nod. “It’s my duty. These kids are my responsibility while they’re here. Every single one of them.”
And he sold it. Every word wrapped in sincerity, dripping with false warmth. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he meant it with his whole heart.
Maggie smiled faintly through her worry, her voice low. “You’re really good with them, you know. The kids. They trust you.”
William’s hazel eyes flicked toward her, just for a second, before his expression softened again. “That’s because I take the time to listen.”
He straightened his uniform, gave a small nod to the group, then excused himself down the hall.
The moment his back was turned, his smile dropped. His face settled into something unreadable, almost blank, like a mask being set aside.
The kids might’ve bought it. The adults might’ve sighed with relief. But deep down, William knew the truth.
Susie wasn’t fine.193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJGQNxKcLFr
193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBsAdvUIOPJ
Susie wasn’t coming back.193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmkH3M1khi4
193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlgq1mB5m4E
And by the end of the week, she wouldn’t be the only one.
The Children's POV
Jeremy slid back into the booth, looking a little lighter, like some invisible weight had been lifted. He leaned against the table, grinning at the others in that hopeful way he always did.
“See? Mister Afton’s looking for her. He’ll find her.”
Cassidy uncrossed her arms, huffing. “Yeah. I mean… if anyone’s gonna find her, it’s him.” She tried to sound annoyed, like always, but her voice cracked a little at the end.
Fritz tapped his straw against his soda cup, staring at the fizz. “He sounded… real sure. Like he knows.”
Gabriel’s shoulders loosened, though he still fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt. “I-I think… I think Susie would be happy to know we’re not giving up.”
For the first time since she’d gone missing, the group actually fell into a fragile quiet. A little relief. Like maybe—maybe—things were going to be okay.
Jeremy broke it with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “We were worrying for nothing. She’s fine. She’s gotta be.”
Cassidy smacked his arm lightly. “Don’t say it like that, dummy. You’ll jinx it.”
They laughed—nervously, but it was laughter all the same. A tiny spark of normalcy.
A few hours later...
The music piping through the pizzeria had that tinny, cheerful beat, just a little too loud to cover the clatter of plates and chatter of kids. The stage lights dimmed as Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie hopped off their risers, their bulky forms swaying slightly as they moved into the crowd. The grown-ups applauded politely, while most of the children squealed with excitement, rushing up to wave or hug the characters.
At a booth near the back, Jeremy, Fritz, Gabriel, and Cassidy were still locked in a battle of wills over the last breadstick. The lonely piece sat on the plate like treasure in a dragon’s hoard, slowly getting cold as the argument heated up.
“I called dibs!” Fritz whined, reaching for it.
Jeremy smacked his hand away, grinning. “You can’t just call dibs on breadsticks, that’s not how breadsticks work!”
“Yeah it is!” Fritz shot back, puffing up like he was about to start a whole courtroom case. “Everyone knows ‘dibs’ is, like, the law.”
Cassidy rolled her eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. “If dibs was the law, you’d be in jail already, Fritz.”
Gabriel, timid as ever, was trying to be the peacemaker. He nudged the plate gently back and forth between them, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe we could just… split it?”
That’s when a heavy shadow fell over the booth.
Freddy Fazbear loomed above them, towering with his bowtie perfectly straight and his blue eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. He raised one broad paw, index finger pointed like a teacher about to scold.
“Remember, kids,” Freddy said in that cheerful, hollow animatronic voice, “sharing is caring!”
The four of them froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. For a moment, the uncanny realness of Freddy being so close made their stomachs twist.
Then Jeremy smirked and elbowed Fritz. “You heard the bear.”
Cassidy grinned smugly. “Looks like Freddy’s on my side.”
Fritz groaned dramatically, slumping into his seat. “Ughhh, fine. We’ll split it.”
Jeremy tore the breadstick in half and passed it to Fritz, who snatched it with a glare, muttering something about “tyranny.”
Freddy nodded, the servos in his neck whirring faintly. “That’s better!” he said, before turning to shuffle toward another table.
The kids watched Freddy walk away.
“Where did Mister Afton go?” Gabriel asked, fiddling nervously with his half of the breadstick.
“He probably went to do whatever a security guard person does,” Cassidy said with a shrug, like duh. “Walk around, pretend to look busy, eat all the free pizza when nobody’s watching.”
Jeremy snorted. “Yeah, or he’s out there with one of those, like… flashlights they always have. You know—going all ‘detective mode.’” He made a goofy face and held his crust like a magnifying glass. “‘Hmm yes, the pepperoni crumbs lead this way! Very suspicious!’”
Fritz cackled and added, “Bet he’s chasing kids for running in the ball pit. ‘Halt, criminal! No climbing up the slide!’*” He leaned back, waving his breadstick like it was a baton.
Cassidy smacked him lightly on the arm. “Shut up, Fritz, he’s looking for Susie. You can’t find anyone by standing around, y’know.”
That silenced the table for a moment. Even Jeremy’s grin faltered, though just a little. Gabriel ducked his head, chewing slowly.
“…That’s true,” he said softly.
Later That Evening...193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAOtL8IX61c
193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDGYvpGLSXY
The lights had dimmed for the stage show, and most of the crowd had gathered in front of Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica who had returned to the stage. The music was bouncy, clapping along with the children who cheered and sang, but Fritz wasn’t watching.
He’d wandered near the arcade machines, pumping quarters into Raceway Rampage for what had to be his fourth attempt. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he steered, the screen flashing “GAME OVER” again with a mocking little jingle.
“Ugh, this game cheats!” Fritz smacked the side of the cabinet, glaring at the leaderboard. The top score was still up there in bold, taunting digits: R.A.B. – 99999
A shadow fell across the screen. A hand—fuzzy, oversized, claw-tipped—settled lightly on the machine beside him.
“Hard to beat, isn’t it?”
Fritz looked up, eyes widening. The Yellow Rabbit loomed beside him, its tall frame half-lit by the glow of the arcade. The voice that rolled out was smooth. Calming. Almost friendly.
“Most kids give up. But not you, hmm? You keep trying.”
Fritz blinked, caught between awe and pride. “Yeah, well… I’m fast. I just gotta figure out the right moves, that’s all.”
The Rabbit leaned closer, lowering its voice like it was sharing a secret. “I’ve been watching. You really are the fastest. Faster than any of your friends.”
Fritz straightened, chest puffing up at the praise. “…Faster than Jeremy?”
A low chuckle. “Much faster. In fact…” The Rabbit tilted its head toward the far end of the arcade, where the glow of another machine flickered faintly. “There’s a hidden track. Special game only the best players get to try. But only if they’re brave enough to follow me.”
Fritz’s freckles scrunched as he grinned. The thought of something secret—something Jeremy hadn’t seen—was too tempting. “A hidden track? For real?”
The Rabbit extended its fuzzy hand, palm open. “For real.”
Fritz hesitated only for a moment before slipping his small hand into the Rabbit’s. The fur was coarse, cold. But the praise in that voice was all he could hear.
Together, they slipped away from the lights and music, into the quieter, darker hall behind the arcade.
The arcade music faded the further they walked. Fritz’s sneakers squeaked against the tile, the glow of machines replaced by the dim, buzzing fluorescent bulbs overhead. The Yellow Rabbit led him deeper, until finally they stopped in front of a dusty storage door.
“This is it,” the Rabbit said, tilting its head.
Fritz frowned. “...Doesn’t look like a hidden track.”
The Rabbit chuckled low, that fuzzy paw reaching for the door handle. And then, just as it pushed the door open—
—the suit twitched.
A sound like gears shifting, a hinge groaning, and the costume’s head tilted too far, sliding to the side in an unnatural motion. The jaw hung open, and the shadows pulled back just enough for Fritz to see the man inside.
Hazel eyes gleamed. A smirk, wrong and cold, broke across William Afton’s face.
Fritz’s stomach dropped. “...Mister Afton?”
The man didn’t answer. He stepped out of the suit fully, the Yellow Rabbit collapsing into a heap behind him. William loomed, sleeves rolled up, that warm voice gone—replaced by something sharper, crueler.
“Smart kid,” William said quietly. “Too smart, sometimes.”
Fritz’s instincts kicked in. He backed away, fists clenched. “You tricked me!”
And then, true to his nature, Fritz swung. A sharp punch landed against William’s side. For a moment, there was satisfaction in the sting of knuckles meeting ribs. He even tried to bolt, legs pumping—he was the fastest, he could outrun him—
—but William’s hand caught his arm, yanking him back like he weighed nothing. Fritz kicked, twisted, even tried to bite, his freckles scrunched in fury.
“You think you’re fast?” William growled, pinning him against the wall with terrifying ease. “Not fast enough.”
Fritz’s breath hitched, panic surging. He let out a scream that barely carried down the empty hall. His fists kept swinging, his legs kept kicking—but he was just a boy.
William’s hand covered his mouth. The other gripped tighter, crueler.
The last sound Fritz heard was the creak of the door shutting behind them.
ns216.73.216.37da2
and then Add to home screen.