In a quiet town, there lived a boy.
This boy was a frail, weak-hearted but pure child in a family that did not care for him.
His brother never loved him, as he only loved to taunt him for his innocence.
His father concealed a burden of slaughter and deception, and thus never bothered to comfort the boy.
His sister was neglected just like him, but she had disappeared without a second thought. Nobody told him what had happened.
It didn't help that he was afraid of the monsters hiding in his room.
They had eyes full of hatred. Teeth that could slice through flesh in an instant. Their growls of anger, their laughter of malice.
They were out to get him, whether he'd wanted it or not. But tonight was different.
That night, the boy had a dream that was not like the others.
It started off innocent. Lively. Cheerful. Like nothing was wrong. Like his family wasn't there to hurt him. There were bright blue skies, happy pink flowers, and strange but inviting rock-like entities that walked on two stubby legs. It was a paradise. A utopia.
But utopias didn't really exist, didn't they?
Then he realized something else. He wasn't there. The one who comforted him when his father couldn't. The one who loved him when his brother wouldn't. The one like the sister he never got to know.
Fredbear.
Or at least, a soft, plush version of the animatronic. He slept with it every night, thinking to himself the same phrase, "Tomorrow is another day."
He trusted those words. He always trusted him. He was the only one he trusted.
The boy tried to shake off these thoughts. He was in paradise now, where he couldn't be hurt by anybody. He just had to stay here, and everything would be okay. But he could look for Fredbear while staying in paradise. It wouldn't hurt. Right?
So he did. He looked everywhere; investigating the flowers, and figuring out hitting the smiling blocks lightly could wield what looked like gems.
The boy even interacted with the rock-like figures who had nothing but smiles for him. It felt nice to be treated with smiles instead of hateful mockery. He felt happy, a feeling he never thought he could understand But the happiness didn't last for long. He couldn't find Fredbear, no matter how hard he looked.
And then the world disappeared, and a new one appeared in its place.
The boy was confused. He didn't do anything out of the ordinary. And this new place didn't seem to change much...but something about it was off.
Things weren't as cheerful; the flowers, once perky, were starting to fade. The entities moved slower, and looked less excited. A transformation from an unrealistically happy utopia to a more down-to-earth world took place right in front of him.
He thought about these changes. Then he ignored these changes, and went straight to looking for Fredbear. The boxes had gems with altered colors, and the rock-like beings didn't want to talk with the boy anymore, despite their still smiling faces. Was he being ignored? The boy didn't like being ignored. To him it was no better than being mocked at.
He searched and searched, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. So he closed his eyes to see if the world would reset once more, and then he could find him.
Alas, unbeknownst to him, he was falling into a darkening dream he wouldn't escape from anytime soon.
The world was dead.
Well, more so lifeless: the flowers were wilted and the rock-like figures truly became rock-like; as in, they stood completely still. He didn't understand why; were they asleep, or did they simply not want to move? Could they move?
But there was no time for asking questions, the boy told himself. Find Fredbear, the sole light in the darkness of his life. Things were more tense in this new world. He didn't feel welcome anymore, only merely a stranger. Why? Why did he not feel welcome anymore?
Stop asking questions. Find him. FIND HIM. And so he did. But he couldn't find him. He was still lost, somewhere in the deeper layers of this dream. The boy knew, however, this was more than a dream.
It had started out peaceful, like before. He just had to hit the smiling block to get another gem, right?
But he was proven wrong.
A pained cry rang out, and the world became darker, another layer unraveled. It wasn't trying to hide anything anymore; the entities, now enemies, became oppressive and the boy knew they were out to get him. So he ran.
He ran, trying to find his beloved plush. The one who was always there for him, no matter how much his brother abused him and his father neglected him. He wondered how he was using such strong words at this moment. Was it because of fear? Adrenaline?
It was simple. They hurt him, and they would regret it soon enough.
He wasn't just scared. He was frustrated. Frustrated at the pain he went through trying to cling to hope. Frustrated at how his father failed to treat him like a son, how his brother failed to treat him like his own.
His thoughts were interrupted by a claw coming out of the ground.
He yelped, jumping back at the startling sight. He had been so distracted by his inner contempt he failed to notice the deteriorating world. The boy looked around to see the entities moving faster, the vines which once held beautiful flowers started to grow vicious thorns. Thorns. Thorns of hate. His brother's hatred. Him.
If he never cared about me, he thought, then I won't care about him.
The boy continued to run, resisting the urge to get scared at the sight of another claw and continuing to grab every gem he could find. Sometimes it was easy. Other times he struggled. Just like every day, over and over again, the endless torments and lack of sympathy.
He shut his eyes once more, filled with determination.
Hell. The world was slowly becoming hell, no doubt about it.
Thorns streaked with the blood of failed attempts were scattered across the surroundings. What once were inviting pools of water were now hellish lava pits which blood-seeking claws sprouted. And those entities...they were just like the monsters he was scared of. His brother and his friends. The true monsters.
His mind grew weary. Again and again, he grabbed gems (well, skulls), driven by the goal of finding Fredbear and his enmity for the ones he once thought had a shred of kindness. Even if he was hurt, he'd always come back, ready to face the same trials once more.
Over and over again, a darkening dream...a nightmare. He never said it out loud, where nobody would bother to hear, but the thought lingered in his mind. A dream becoming a nightmare. It was quaint. How much more must this nightmare hurt him so?
Then the boy realized he was hurting his enemies too.
The blood: it wasn't just on the thorns, it was everywhere he once saw a figure of destruction. Slowly, too, he was becoming one as well. He never saw himself as a monster or a vessel of malice. He was pure, innocent, the one seen as a coward. He didn't have it in himself to hurt anyone.
But he was killing those creatures just fine.
FIND HIM. REMEMBER YOUR GOAL.
He shut his eyes tight, hoping he would wake up.
Darkness. Pitch black, empty, lifeless darkness.
The monsters were maddened with violence, no longer bleeding red but instead bleeding black ooze, then coming back to life, repeating the cycle. The blocks were staring at the boy without remorse, only pity. What was there to pity?
The boy was silent. He did not say a word about Fredbear, his family, or his reason for being here. He picked up bleeding skulls, traversed past the thorns and claws and slowly, but surely made it, upwards the dream. But his mind was filled with thoughts.
My family never loved me. They were heartless. Monsters.
But the monsters I see in front of my very eyes are awaiting for my sleight. I shall give it to them.
They will get what's coming to them. I'm not the innocent boy they once thought me as.
I was once pure. Now I am pure no longer.
They didn't feel like thoughts he'd normally have. They were cold, cruel. Yet they were powerful thoughts that soothed him, convinced him he was right, he had nothing to fear.
Eventually, he made it back to the sickeningly sweet place he once considered a paradise. How obnoxious. He barely jumped at the final claw, the one rewarding him for his journey. And at that moment he knew, he would finally see the one who truly cared.
Idly, his goal, his reason for being here stood there. His golden fur with a purple bow-tie and hat shined, smiling as it would say, "I'm so glad you're here."
The boy paused. He recalled those thoughts he had, about no longer being pure and how heartless his family was. He wondered if those thoughts were true, or the darkness of his dream had taken a toll on his mind.
His wondering was answered soon after.
The place became dark, and so did his beloved Fredbear. His eyes became sharp with madness, and the plush itself took on an appearance the boy knew all too well. Nightmare. The boy heard a voice from the Nightmare plush, beckoning with a violent yet comforting voice.
"Young child, let go of your purity and innocence. Embrace this darkness. Become one with the darkening dream."
He would have resisted, knowing he would never hurt a soul. But he knew that was false. All those monsters he killed without regret, how he thought he deserved to hurt them all. Hurting all of them. All who opposed him. His brother. His father. All of them.
He did deserve it.
The boy began to give in, his vision darkening, the Nightmare becoming closer. He did want this. He wanted to embrace this darkness, this corruption, this EUPHORIA.
"Your soul is rotten. Filled with corruption because of this nightmare. Your contempt will be your power. Show them all this darkness. SHOW THEM."
He smiled, a soft giggle coming out. His eyes glowed red, the same color as his precious, beloved Nightmare. He held the plush tightly into his chest, continuing to laugh as he fell further into madness.
Yes. YES. ALL OF THEM! They deserved to suffer, deserved to be hurt! And he'd be the one doing the hurting THIS time! He would be a beacon of purity no longer. He was now a beacon of darkness, of malice, of NIGHTMARES!
Devilishly grinning, he snuggled his Nightmare with passion, lightly kissing him on the forehead. Looking at the darkness of his dreamy wonderland, uttering with another soft giggle:
"Tomorrow is another day."