Hello my Shadows! I have been preoccupied with family issues that have been occurring for a while now, and have only recently escalated, so I'm sorry to say that another chapter of The Reckoning of the Slightly Insane will have to be postponed. Instead, I have decided that I would write a story about the Purple Guy aka William Afton from Five Nights At Freddy's to keep you busy. If you don't like FNAF, then I have failed you, sorry. :( But, if you do, then I'm glad that I have made something that you can possibly enjoy!

Anyways, keep in mind, as I have barely started to watch a Let's Play of FNAF: Sister Location, I can only write based on the first four games of which I have seen, not that this story will take place in any specific place in the timeline. Nonetheless, I hope that you enjoy this story of insanity. (It will also give you a sort of idea of how Rin may or may not act during his story.)

P.S. Even though I haven't played/seen the full game yet, I have been consumed by the songs on YouTube and fanart concerning the game. My favorite pictures being these two:

art/Rust-Underneath-643409866

art/Remorse-641572737

(Support the amazing and talented kawacy! And enjoy the story!)

How could you have done that?

That seems to be a very popular question, to which I answer with a tilt of the head and a shrug:

What's so wrong about it? I haven't really hurt anyone.

I don't exactly have a reason as to why I do what I do other than:

That it's exciting. Exhilarating, really.

To hear the screams of struggle, the blood flowing out. It fills me with an eagerness I can't explain.

The light that carries a child's hopes and dreams vanishing into the cold, air-conditioned air, envelopes me into a feverish state that can only be stopped by more

bloodshed.

Why? I would usually hear people say.

Why not? That was an easy question to answer. I always smiled when I answered that one.

I really wasn't all that bad, my reasons just couldn't form into words. It's not my fault that I'm like this. I already know it's me.

Honestly, I love children, yet...actually, I hate them. Again, I have no completely logical reason.

As I stand in the back room, invisible to cameras and witnesses, a smile creeps onto my blood-stained face.

You can't save them. It's already too late.

Stop trying. It's useless. Worthless. A waste of your time. Just like me.

Too far gone. Too far gone to be saved.

What have I become?

Glancing over the children, I am overwhelmed by a strong sense of dread. My smile fades...

Why...Why the hell would I do this!?

Looking at the blood on my hands reminds me, I'm inhuman. A cold, heartless sadist. It reminds me that:

It's fun. It's entertaining to know just how many stabs it takes each child to die!

But, people shouldn't worry so much. I've saved them.

They can be in a place that they've always loved...for eternity.

I took care when placing their bodies into the suits.

I took care that each limb was where it was supposed to go.

I made sure they were comfortable in their new graves.

They loved the animatronics, why would they mind if they became them?

My smile returns from my thoughts and I smirk.

You know, getting children to follow you is amazingly easy, they're so gullible. They'll believe anything you say, no matter how sinister the meaning behind such

wordplay is.

I remember when I was a kid, I wasn't the best of kids, but I wasn't the worst either.

Look, another way to put this is, I was SAVING the world from the possible chance of more murderers and killers. I did something that HELPED people. I should be

considered a savior. Not a cold-blooded cutthroat. But, eh, what're you gonna do about it?

I don't even know why everyone makes a big deal about it, only a few children were killed.