Warning: Graphic violence and gore! This is a dark story.

"Why don't we give you a better look!"

Michael can barely see out of the foxy mask he's wearing, but he doesn't really need to. He's got a tight hold on Evan's arm and with his friend's held, they easily drag him over to the stage, where Fredbear and Bonnie are singing.

The song's annoying. Evan's crying's annoying. Everything about this damn party is just annoying. Evan doesn't even have any friends to invite, so Michael had to bring his, which is just plain embarrassing. Who invites their friends to a kid's birthday party?

And the three that did end up coming continue to pull Evan closer to the stage. Michael doesn't exactly want to terrorize his brother, even if he's being a real baby about this whole party. Evan gets into enough trouble from Dad anyway, but Michael can't quite stop them. He thinks about it as they finally arrive below the stage. He should probably stop this here, before Evan starts really freaking out and gets in trouble for making too much noise. Again.

"Guys, I think he wants to give Fredbear a big kiss!"

Michael open's his mouth to protest, to say that they've done enough and his arms are tired, but then Evan starts screaming. He flails and kicks and lands a hard blow on Michael's face, knocking the Foxy mask to the side. It also makes him bite his lip, hard.

The others stop for a moment -with Evan still trapped- and stare as Michael touches his face right where he was hit. He wipes at the blood on his lip, wincing at the pain that follows.

Oh, he's getting it now.

"Yeah, give him what he wants." Michael turns his angry glare into a cruel smile. The others seem to get the message and they all begin lifting.

"No! No, Please!"

"One..."

Michael steps onto the stage just enough to get Evan's face higher.

"Please!"

His head is inches from Fredbear's mouth and Michael gets an idea.

"Two..."

"NO!"

Without waiting for the last number, Michael shoves Evan's head inside of the mouth. He lets his brother hang there for a moment, all of them laughing. He's screaming bloody murder and it's annoying as all hell, but it's also satisfying to see. The approval of his friends makes him high with power. That'll teach his stupid little bro-

Fredbear stops moving and suddenly, blood sprays everywhere. Michael flinches back when some of it lands on his face. The laugher's stopped and faintly, he can hear people screaming. Bonnie's still singing his song, as if nothing's happened at all.

Michael stares at the worst of the mess. He sees the way Evan's skull has caved in, exposing what was inside. He sees how it's mutated his brother's face, making it unrecognizable. And his body just hands there, limp and bent at an odd angle. Like the neck may just snap, severing what once was a head from the rest of the body.

"Michael!" Someone pulls him off the stage and he lands on the floor with a throbbing pain, but it goes ignored. All Michael can focus on is the way Evan's head falls apart as Dad pushes open Fredbear's mouth, finally freeing him. Dad shouts something and people begin to run around the room like headless chickens. Michael stays on the floor, his eyes not leaving the spot where Evan just was.

There's blood all over Fredbear's mouth and it kinda looks like he ate a handful of raspberries. But raspberries aren't so deeply red.

And there's some on him. On his lips. And when Michael licks at them, he can taste copper.

Evan's blood.

He can't help it. A smile pulls onto his face and that powerful feeling returns. That feeling of being higher than everyone. Better than everyone. His hands shake and the other emotions, the ones he should be feeling, try to overwhelm him, but he shoves them away. He lets himself feel powerful and mighty. Sure, he didn't really mean to kill his brother. Didn't exactly want to, but now that it's done, he can't really say that he regrets it.

No, he doesn't regret it at all.

Michael doesn't end up in jail like he worried he might. It's thanks to Dad. They wrote it off as an accident, that it was just a malfunction on Fredbear's part. That Michael didn't mean to kill Evan and he's obviously drowning in sorrow because of it.

When the police leave them alone, Dad begins to relax more. He starts working again, but there's a weight to him. It's not quite as heavy as when Elizabeth went missing, but it's still there.

Michael still doesn't regret it. In fact, he looks back on it sometimes, when he's all alone in his room. He'll remember how it felt to be standing there on the stage while everyone was laughing. He'll remember the taste of his brother's blood and smile, because he liked it. A lot.

But he doesn't tell Dad. He just plays the part of a sorrowful and guilty brother who committed manslaughter. He hides away from his friends, especially the ones that were there that day. It's easy, because they avoid him too. They don't want to get involved with the legal stuff, just in case Michael decides to mention the fact that they helped. It's fair and Michael doesn't mind being alone. He has so much to think about on his own anyway.

"I'm so sorry, my boy." Uncle Henry's taking it the worst, but Michael can't blame him. It probably reminds him of Charlie, who went missing three days after Elizabeth. "I should've checked Fredbear before the party. I should've..." He goes quiet, a sob escaping him. Michael wears a numb expression. He keeps his eyes open long enough that they begin to water.

Uncle Henry must see it, because he leans forward and wraps his arms around Michael's frame. They're pressed close together and Michael lets out a fake sob. It sends Uncle Henry spiraling and as he begins to cry, Michael's fake sobs turn into quiet laughter. It's easy enough to pass as crying, so he doesn't stop it. He lets himself laugh about Evan's death and he gets away with it.

More kids go missing. It's strange and weird, but Michael doesn't bother to feel horrified by it. In fact, he finds it more interesting than not. He ends up visiting the pizzeria a lot after school just to look around the storage rooms, hoping to find out where exactly those kids went. He wants to see if they're tied up somewhere, lost and alone. Begging for someone to save them.

Or maybe they're already dead and he'll just happen upon their bodies.

He doesn't find them, obviously. Anyone who can take five kids at once wouldn't just leave them lying around. But he does mention it later that day, during dinner. It's just him and Dad. Usually, Dad eats in his study, or not at all. He's always busy -too busy for his now only child- but it's fine. Michael doesn't need constant attention like Lizzie did. He doesn't need someone to comfort him when he's seeing monsters, like Evan. He's a good child. But that doesn't mean that he likes getting ignored. So, he gets Dad's attention the only way he knows how.

"It's kinda fucked up. Five kids gone at once." He pokes at his veggies, stealing quick glances at his father.

Dad stops eating for a moment, his eyes going wide for a split second before going back to normal. He sets his fork down and gives Michael his full attention. "Indeed, it is. The police certainly haven't spared me their worries. We could lose the business if this continues."

"I wonder what drives someone to do that. To kill someone else." Dad looks away, going back to his food. "Maybe it's the sick satisfaction. I lean, if you're twisted enough to kill someone, then it's probably a little fun to do, right?" That does it. He has his father's full attention again. "Or maybe it's hatred. Some kids can be real brats." Dad gives him a silent warning. Michael ignores it. " Or maybe it's the power. I mean-"

"That's enough, Michael!" The room goes quiet for a moment. "This isn't a topic we should be discussing, especially at the dinner table." He waves Michael away, going back to his dinner with no less an appetite. "Put your dishes away and go to bed. You're grounded from television for the night."

Michael stands up, the chair falling backward as he does. He scrubs the dishes harder than he needs and when he pits it away, it almost breaks. He then stomps away in a huff. He doesn't slam his door, because that would really get him in trouble. Instead, he sits on his bed and lets his anger control him. He thinks of what his father's blood would taste like. What it would look like if his throat was cut open. How quickly the light would leave his eyes.

He can't, though. Someone would definitely find out and even if Uncle Henry tried to defend him, Michael already has a record. He's killed someone before. Killed a family member before. And his father is too tall to hide around the house. He'd have to dig a really big hole.

Michael draws pictures of it instead. He uses a red marker like a knife, leaving dots of blood all over the page. He lets it run down his drawing's face until it bleeds through the page.

The urge doesn't really go away after that, but it's better. He's more confident that he won't actually do it. He tries to lay down and fall asleep, even as the thoughts spin around his mind like a tornado. He keeps replaying the scene from dinner, how his father looked at him like he meant nothing. Like he's powerless.

He needs power. Needs to prove that he's not just some stupid teenager.

The neighbor's dog begins to bark.

Michael gets up from his bed. He might as well investigate.

Uncle Henry comes to him sometime after Michael's moved out. He looks stressed and his hair is pointing in all directions. His whole face is red, like he's been crying.

"Hey, Michael. May I come in?"

"Sure." Michael opens the door further to let him in. Uncle Henry walks slowly as he comes inside, a roll of blueprints under his arm. "Are you alright? What happened?" Is it because of the failure their franchise has been facing lately? It's gotten so bad that they had to close down Freddy Fazbear's Pizza and JR's is just about to follow.

"I...would like to sit down for this."

Michael watches him for a moment. He's hiding something. Something big. "Of course. Let's sit down." He leads the older man into the living room. There's only one chair, but Michael offers it to Uncle Henry, who looks ready to faint. Michael kneels down close by, still beyond curious. "What did you visit for?"

He cracks a pained smile. "What? I can't visit you every so often?" It doesn't really ease the tension like Uncle Henry likely thought it would.

Michael lays a hand on his godfather's knee. "Uncle Henry, please. Why did you come all the way out here."

Silently, he begins to open the blueprints. At first, Michael has no idea what he's looking at. It's messy and definitely in his father's handwriting. Then, he starts to make out the springs and gathers that this must be an animatronic. "I've never seen this one before. Is it new?" The design is different from what Michael's used to. It's not the usual animal. No, this one has human features.

Uncle Henry doesn't answer. He just flips to another one. This one looks more familiar, though, only slightly. It's a Foxy variant, but not one Michael's seen before. It kind of looks like Toy Foxy, before the thing got destroyed beyond repair.

The next looks like a little girl with pigtails. Now, this one rings a bell and Michael takes the paper gently. He stares at it for a long moment, not sure where he's seen it. "Uncle Henry, what is this?" He looks up again and he sees the older man crying. "Henry?"

"Your father's dead." He starts, but Michael stops him.

"What?!" Michael stands up, his eyes wide with shock. How...when? When did this happen? Why didn't anyone bother to tell him before now? What the fuck?!

"It happened yesterday. I kept trying to call and..." Uncle Henry begins breaking down again. Michael waits, knowing just how painful this must be for him. He's lost not only a business partner but his best friend. They were more than just close. They were inseparable. "He got springlocked. Something happened while he was wearing the old Spring Bonnie suit and...the police are handling it."

Springlocked. Michael remembers them talking about it, arguing over whether it was safe to wear those suits anymore. It looks like Henry won that argument in the worst way. Michael has to sit for this. He's starting to feel whiplash from all of this information, but that still doesn't explain the blueprints. Why does Henry have those? And why did he bring them?

"When I was looking through William's house, I found these locked away. I had to break into it. There wasn't a key. He...I didn't know he was hiding these blueprints from me, but now I know why he did. Look here." Uncle Henry points to a spot on the Freddy blueprint. It's right around the midsection. As he traces over it, Michael begins to see what he's pointing out. "There's a child's outline. These were made to hide children inside."

Michael looks at his own blueprint. He stares at the little girl's middle and after a moment, he can see it. There's the outline of a child inside. But why? Why would his father make this a part of the blueprints? Why would he design this? It's not safe for children to be inside of the animatronics. Hell, it's not even safe for the adults to be in there! Why...

"It was him, Michael. William was killing children this whole time. He made the Funtime animatronics to kill them. That's why Elizabeth never made it back from that opening night. That's why Charlie-" He starts sobbing again. His tears stain the blueprints, but it doesn't matter. They've already seen what they needed to see.

It makes sense, now that Michael knows. No other restaurant had issues with missing children. It was always Freddy's. And that explains why he never wanted to talk about the missing cases. Michael figured it was just because it hurt his ego, knowing that his beloved animatronics weren't as safe as he claimed. He never wanted to be wrong, never wanted to admit that he made a mistake by letting five children get kidnapped.

But this is so much better. Maybe that's why Michael enjoyed killing Evan. Maybe that's why he always gets the urge to get that power back. It runs in the family. He has a murderer's blood and thanks to his father, he has a perfect way to act on those urges. He just has to get Henry out of the way.

"Henry?" The man's still crying, but he does look up. "We have to fix this. Let me work with you in my father's place as your partner. Let me fix the mess he created."

At first, Henry's awestruck. He just stares and stares, but then he begins to smile. Two arms wrap around Michael's frame, holding him tightly. "Thank you, Michael. I...it means so much to me." Uncle Henry cries into his shoulder, his shaking arms never letting up. They stay like that for a long time and Michael bares through it. He acts like the Michael everyone thinks he is.

If only he knew. If only he knew that Michael would take his father's legacy. He'll use the animatronics just as his father did and once Henry's out of the picture entirely, then no one will have more power. Michael will be able to follow his urges all he wants. He'll feel that power wherever he goes. He'll become the next boogeyman.

After all, it does run in their blood.

Sorry for the kind of open ending. I was going to add more, but it didn't feel right. This is just a little thought I've had lately and like most ideas I have, I wrote it out to torture others with.