"It's fascinating… all my creations merged together like this- functioning as one brilliant and stupid machine."

My body writhed against the scratchy ground, still reacting to the controlled shock even after it had already subsided. Circus Baby and the others continued to scream in the back of my head; their voices rang and glitched together in repetition. I felt a longing to fall unconscious again but despite that, my body remained active. At least the static cleared from my vision just enough for me to see anything.

"I have no doubt you'll all fall apart soon enough. Your body has already begun to simulate decay." I cared none about whatever my father monologued about as pools of red blossomed on the gravel- around my best friend's still body.

"Ma-a-bel!" I cried out to her again. She couldn't respond to me. She choked on her own blood. I jerked a shaking arm in her direction. Her glimmering eyes stared with a dead, empty gaze. Before I could touch her hand, a shoe crushed my arm flat.

"Don't look at her," Father growled. "Look at me." My eyes darted up to notice his face leaning in as he crouched. His yellow teeth exposed themselves in the night shadows. His pungent, tangy breath overturned my stomach. He's definitely been drinking again!

"I'm proud of you, don't you know? You found out everything yourself. You killed that irritating girl so I didn't have to. All I had to do was give your little gang a pleasant reminder of who they're meant to be." He held up the shock controller button and its bunch of wires in one hand. A nasty scowl formed on my face, belonging to both Ennard and me. My father's grin shrank. "You've been destined for a greater life, Michael. Better than crying over impotent bitches and trying so desperately to live a happy, normal one." I flinched at his sudden chuckle, then more so when my father laid his bristly hand on my cheek. He stroked away my tears with his thumb.

"Martha, my… once my only love. Elizabeth, my sweet baby. Michael, my little boy."

My chest shuddered upon the mention of our names.

"And you other two," Father added in a grunt. "You have a better purpose to fulfil." Finally, he removed his hand from my face. I glanced away from his stare for a second. Mabel…

"ST-STA-STAGE! ST-ST-ST-" Funtime Foxy's distant voice continued to skip in my ears. Father shook his fist, resuming his speech, "I didn't get anywhere with James- that selfish bastard child and his normalled life- but you! You three are accomplishing breakthroughs never seen before!"

What the hell is he talking about?! I need to help Mabel-

"Oh, this is the beginning of something good. You'll see. We can work together- all of us," Father declared, then added with a faux cheer, "The Afton family reunion!" He stood up, his dark tie swaying in the breeze, and freed my shaking arm. Yet again, I shot a glance at Mabel. Father noticed and turned his attention to her.

"L-leave h-h-er-" my throat attempted to stutter. Despite my weak protest, Father scooped Mabel into his arms.

"What a stupid girl," he hummed through a curious smile. I watched his eyes trace over every detail of Mabel's body; he seemed to inspect her like a child examining a new toy.

What is he doing?! He better not touch her!

The old man looked back down at me. "I'll see you lot again, whether as a scrapheap or n-"

"Y-you're ins-sane!" I croaked from the ground. Father pivoted on his heel, turning away to face the darkness. He gruffed, "Hmph. What else is new?"

He proceeded out of my range of vision to the dirty trunk of his car, where he stuffed the corpse of my best friend.

"Oh, and about your message," Father called, ducking into the driver's seat. "You don't want your trauma, but you'll be thankful for it one day. Trust me, I understand." He wavered momentarily, in reminiscence of the past. "The springlocks going off left nasty scars, but a changed man all the same."

Before he drove away, he granted another controlled shock for kicks. The Funtimes' shouts rang louder in my ears. I hissed a curse word through my teeth. Promptly, the excruciating pain shut down my exhausted brain.

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The carnival music rang in my ears. I can't get out! I'm trapped! Muffled voices spoke about- something about going to school? But I graduated this year… I could hardly breathe. I'm trapped! My lungs are stuck! There- that vibrant fruity smell of curly hair- I could smell- No… she's gone. She's gone! M- I can't- smells like sharp metal. The heat seeped into my skin, melting my bones and boiling my blood. I have to wake up! I'm trap- trapped- Wake up!

My frightened ramblings jostled me awake. With a groan, I sat up; my head slumped upright as if it weighed a ton. The sun shot through the window curtains. I squinted to avoid its piercing rays.

It's… morning? My brain registered slowly. Another day? It almost seemed too good to be true.

"Oh, GOOD! You're finally awake!" greeted the brash voice of Funtime Freddy from inside my head. I rubbed my face.

"Wh-" I gasped at the crispiness of dried tear streams on my cheeks and crusted blood on my fingers. My brow wrinkled as I went light-headed trying to recall what happened. The memories swam around, too fast to grasp. CAT scan… overload… I eased myself on my feet using the bed as leverage.

"Michael," Circus Baby began with a soft, quiet hush, "I'm sorry for what happened hours ago. I couldn't stop."

The man at the ER. The one who worked the machine. His cry of pain echoed in my head, a troublesome noise.

I hurt someone. I- his blood- my arms, they snapped- I can't remember… not again!

My eyes darted down at my messy hands while my stomach overturned. I studied the garments hanging off my body. My hooded jacket was ruined, to say the least. The hospital gown's tiny dotted pattern faded underneath the red stains. I wore no pants; they sat crumpled on the nightstand, as well as the paper that the phone guy gave me.

We- I was controlled. Outside. I couldn't move. I was trapped. And… I…

The rest of the memories slammed into my head like a highway car collision.

"I h-hurt…" the words struggled through my breath. "I hurt Mabel, t-too…" Doubling over, I clutched my trembling body, unable to stop myself. My eyes welled up with new tears. Throbbing, stinging pangs of guilt, sadness, and anger spread from my heart to my entire nervous system- a feeling that I knew, but had never experienced at this degree of pain.

She's dead. I killed her.

"It wasn't your fault-" Baby started only for me to object, "I killed her!"

"We lost control! I thought she was the one h-" I slammed my hand on the desk. The heat that rushed to my fingers felt like nothing compared to the sweltering rage that grew in my chest.

"BUT THIS IS MY BODY! I COULD'VE STOP- SHE- ALL SHE- AND ALL S-SHE SAW WAS- WAS M-" My throat closed against my yells. With a cry of anguish, I thrust a balled fist into the wall beside me. A loud crack sounded and I tore my hand away to find an ugly, bloody rupture devastating the horrid pattern of the grey wallpaper.

"Nice jab," Funtime Foxy remarked. A vicious scowl sprouted on my beet-red face.

"NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HAD NEVER SCOOPED AND STOLEN MY DAMN BODY IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

I shattered the lamp against the door, then stormed down the hallway. My chest heaved with my angry sobbing. Searching with a teary-eyed glare, I yanked open a kitchen drawer. The Funtimes read my mind.

"Michael, don't do that!"

My fingers closed around the plastic handle of a jagged-edged knife. By ripping a sizable tear in my hospital gown, I exposed my bare torso. Fluids leaked between the puffy skin and stitches.

"YOU CAN'T GET US OUT LIKE THAT!"

"IT'LL ONLY HURT YOU! IT WON'T BE F-FUN AT ALL!"

Every muscle shook as I fought against the determined tugs of the animatronics. I clenched my teeth. Their frantic movements in my body twisted my gut for the umpteenth time. I gagged and coughed on my own snot and tears. The tip of the knife touched my stomach.

"STOP!"

"Michael?" A voice not within my head called. I tilted my head up, meeting the gaze of not only Chelsea but her robotic siblings as well.

"We're together again!" exclaimed Chelsea. She gripped the hands of Bitey and Biddy, beaming proudly. I would have given a smirk if they'd showed up yesterday. Today, I couldn't look them in the eyes.

"Are you oka-" one of them began but my frustrated huff interrupted. I chucked the knife across the living room. The Bidybabs leapt back in surprise. My eyes widened when I realised what I did. I noticed a misshapen scuff on Chelsea's plastic head resembled the print of my shoe.

I kicked her- I didn't- I can't hurt anyone else! I can't- I-

"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, then crumpled to the floor with a soggy heap. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry…" The Bidybabs left me in the kitchen, where I curled up in a fetal position and gripped my thin hair and cried the hardest I'd ever cried in all my pathetic life thus far.

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I stared at the ceiling through hot swollen eyes. In a coma of despair, my body ached every agonising second that I laid there still on the tiles. Throughout the passing hours, I heard the Funtimes mumbling through the blockade in my head. Their voices bounced and drifted away. The wall blocked out my own thoughts too, so my mind was a quiet, empty nothing. It was terrifying.

"Michael, it wasn't your fault. It was mine."

"She's right; it was her fault."

"Freddy-"

"Okay, it was OUR fault. We got sc-scared…"

"But we can get through this, Michael. I know you can. You kept walking through everything else, so why just give up now?"

"Yeah, move around a little!"

"What if you danced? Perhaps that would help you?"

My chest rising and falling and my eyelids automating a blink once every few minutes remained my only movement. The Funtimes kept trying to talk to me, despite my silence. Those poor animatronics wasted their energy.

"Can he even hear us anymore?" Funtime Freddy sighed. "Do you think he went deaf like Ballora?"

"I'm not deaf; I am visually impaired, which is not the same-"

"Then why don't you like to talk?"

"That's my choice."

"We have to help young Afton," Funtime Foxy declared, redirecting the attention back to me.

"How? He's just laying here! It's SOOO BORING!"

Circus Baby replied softly, "He's hurt, Freddy, as well as functioning on low-power."

"C'mon, Michael! GET UP!"

Under their influence, my foot jerked.

"We can't move him!"

"You don't listen, do you? I said he's on low-power! None of us can move him!" Baby snapped at Freddy, who simply "oh"ed in response. She continued, "We're just going to have to wait until he's ready to get up."

My head lurched to the side as the pull to succumb to sleep anchored me to the floor.

"Or when his body shuts itself down."