'Oh, hello Mike. I was wondering when you were going to show up.' The voice spoke inside his head with a cheery singsong tune. Mike gritted his teeth, hands clenching into fists; he could practically hear the amusement in Fritz's voice. Why was Fritz here? Shouldn't he still be in Purgatory?
'Oh, by the way, I can read your thoughts. And I am still in limbo Mikey. But since you're currently in my body, I get to sit in the passenger seat.' The cheery voice did nothing to distract Mike from the fact the blood was starting to stick to his fingers, and he stood up, scanning his surroundings.
'Ok, so where is the house, where is my home?' Finding no memories from Fitz's life, Mike was at a loss as to where to go. A chuckle came through the link, and slowly memories began to appear in his head like he was watching a movie. Putting a hand to his head, Mike groaned, shuddering at the sudden influx of emotions that came with it.
'Oh maan, if I wasn't going to hell after this, I would be recording this to watch for eternity. You really are a riot to witness. But yeah, I'm also safekeeping all the memories. Can't have your brain exploding now, can we?' Oh if only Mike was still in Purgatory so he could murder Fritz a second time. Eternal damnation might just be worth it.
'Regardless, I now know where my 'home' is. I guess I might as well head back.' Mike stepped away from the squirrel, aming to make a side-trip to get cleaned up at a very convenient tap. For some reason, he had the urge to pause, and he found his eyes wandering toward the squirrel corpse. It was a moment before he realised this action, and he blinked, turning and heading back toward the house.
Fritz was surprisingly quiet as Mike got used to his brand new body. While it seemed like most of it could be relied on by simple muscle memory, Mike didn't trust a nagging feeling in the back of his head that said it wasn't a good idea to do so. Approaching the tap, Mike quietly washed himself off, scanning the brief glimpse he had of Fritz for any information about his homelife.
As if on cue, another wave a memories washed through his head, conflicting emotions rolling past him like a shallow wave. Mike shrunk away from it like ice cold water, but the feeling persisted long after the images had subsided. Turning, Mike began to head toward his 'home', and blinked.
'Jeez, are your parents rich or something?' To Mike; who had lived most of his life in squalor or run down apartments (not including his time spent living at Freddy's), this house was a mansion. It had a swimming pool, a small TV, likely black-and-white, in the open dining room, two floors, and a spacious kitchen. And that was just what he could see from the backyard. Fritz lived on the edge of a forest, and his parents often let him wander off.
'They're well off, but considering the image you just sent me, yes we are rich compared to you.' Amusement in his voice, laughter echoed inside his head, and Mike felt his face burn. Just great, one more thing Fritz had that he didn't. The other, of course, being a stable job. Sighing inwardly, Mike opened the door, entering the house.
Walking over to the fridge, Mike quickly read the note saying they would not be home until late, and telling him to order pizza. Checking Fritz's memories, Mike was surprised to find out he was eleven. Either there was something he didn't know, or Fritz's parents were almost as negligent as Mike's.
'Well, I might as well see my room. I gotta wonder why they put me back this early.' Heading upstairs, Mike opened the door on his right. The room was neatly furnished, and he felt a compulsive desire to clean it again, despite it being almost sparkling clean. Fiddling with his fingers, Mike sat down on his bed, and wondered what he should do.
'*Munch* I'm-MMN!-sure they had their reasons Mikey. You might wanna find something to do though, or you'll get twitchy.' Sure enough, Fritz pointed out something Mike had begun to notice. With each second that passed, he felt his thoughts scatter quicker than he could form them. After multiple attempts, he stood up and looked around the room for something to do.
For such a well of family, he had very little in the way of entertainment. Mike settled on reading a book, and felt his mind clear once more. Biting his lip, he wondered just why Fritz has killed a squirrel earlier. As silence answered him, he discarded it, and worked on reading the book. It wasn't too bad, but it wasn't his normal cup of tea.
Hours passed, and Mike realised it was time to eat. Standing up, he walked downstairs and picked up the phone, looking around for the money he assumed was on the fridge. Sure enough, the note fluttered slightly in the backyard breeze. Ordering what Fritz's memories told him was his favorite, he hung up the phone, heading into the living room to continue to read his book.
Eating his food, Mike sighed, closing his eyes. It wasn't that he was without the basic necessities, but coming from having to constantly work to having too much free time was almost jarring. What did he do with it all? Study? Read? Eat? Sighing, he leaned back, holding his arms behind his head.
Mike was incredibly bored.