"Why are you so afraid…What is it that horrifies you so?"
A distorted voice echoed from the face of a twisted one, echoing in Gron's ears like an onslaught of gunfire, every word a bullet going through Gron's skin. Bullets that caused as much agony as they could but never touched the vital organs, hurting, which would end the pain quickly. No, the twisted one wanted it to last. A child that hung on the wall in iron chains with a stream of crimson tears going down his eyes and cheeks. His body stopped flailing long ago, and his voice did not call out for help but for something else.
Shame.
"Are you allowing him to do everything for you once again? Allowing him to selflessly fix your issues while you cower and do nothing?" The hateful voice spoke while his empty eyes glared at Gron, who sat on his bed and looked down at the floor in horror. His hands and body shook while he tried to expunge this nightmare from his mind in futile defiance. "You are scared of who you truly are, scared of what you can do, but you should not be, not at all. One day, you will make the choice you want to make, the one only you can make…And save them all."
"What are…" Gron stuttered before looking up, he understood the sheer absurdity of asking his own hallucination questions, yet curiosity got the better of him. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't you feel it? Don't you see the gathering clouds…Have you grown that blind?"
"You're talking nonsense!"
"Am I? Or are you just unable to see something that's clearly laid out before your eyes? Isn't that what you thought of him the moment you saw him…That there is something he hides. Something sinister…" Gron knew who it was twisted one was talking about, yet it didn't make sense. Those weren't his true feelings. He liked his new job and always was grateful for everything that Alison and Fazbear Inc provided for him. The suspicion, the disdain of the twisted one, wasn't his…Or was it?
"No…It's all a lie! You're a fucking lie, I'm not, I'm not…"
"Ha-ha-ha…I am more true than you could ever be." A monstrous wide smile emerged on the twisted one's face with more blood streaming from his mouth, and for the first time, his running eyes grew excited and emotional. Gron felt them running down his skin as if examining his new prey.
He prayed for this nightmare to end, but it was clear that this was only the beginning, for Gron heard the piercing echo of a doorbell. It had been a long time since someone came to his home, and this thought made Gron assume it was yet another hallucination almost immediately. He didn't even want to think of the horror that waited outside, ready to usher its monstrous aura upon Gron, further driving him insane. Just when he began to believe that it was all coming to an end now, but of course, it had to return in the most draining way imaginable, further making him suffer.
Yet when he peered into the door, all nightmares dissipated immediately, as if they were a result of a magical spell that eradicated the darkness in an instant.
"C…Charlie?" Gron uttered in disbelief as he saw a silhouette of a familiar boy standing beyond the door with Lynda standing by his side. They were the ones that called and expected his response, yet Gron wasn't eager to press the handle just yet. What if they were another figment of his imagination? What if it was the twisted one trying to trick him again? What if the moment he opened a door, there will be yet another mad demon staring into his soul? All of those questions tore Gron apart, but he had to do it. He had to stare into their eyes. If they were, indeed, monsters from his dreams, they would dissipate eventually, while if they were real…He will forever earn a title of a coward for the remainder of his life.
And now, the fateful turn.
They were still real, making Gron freeze in shock as the thought finally reached his mind. They were here. Charlie and Lynda were here in the flesh. Never did he call them on, nor did he contact them at all after Elizabeth's party, and yet here they were. Uninvited, and yet Gron could not be happier. Was William right, then? Did they truly desire to reconnect and rekindle the fires of their bond, at least to an extent? So many questions, and this time Gron wasn't afraid to reach out for the answer.
"Hello, father." Charlie smiled with joy and pride, extending his hand to Gron. There was nothing but warmth and appreciation in his voice, making his father shake his hand. "Are you alright?" Charlie asked cautiously; he must've felt the shaking of Gron's hand.
"I…I am, thank you." Gron murmured, trying to contain his turbulent emotions. He could feel the nightmare ceasing and allowing him a reprieve. For now, he was with his family, and there was nothing strong enough to drag him back into the realm of dread. "I suppose we aren't particularly expected…" Lynda smiled faintly as she examined her ex-husband in his awkwardness and surprise.
"Not really, no…" Gron took a deep breath before looking up at Lynda and speaking up. "But don't let me turn you away, no, not at all!" He was bristling with joy, evident to both Lynda and Charlie, judging by their smiles.
"Well, Charlie really wanted to see you," Lynda explained. "And I saw you at the party and how much fun we all could have…I know I was skeptical, but I could see that you've gone a long way since our last meeting, like, really long…" She sighed. "And so, after some deliberations, I decided that we might garner a few hours to come and visit you."
"I…I don't know what to even say; it's all so surreal, it is…" Gron stuttered while still maintaining his smile of joy and bliss.
"We just want to make sure everything is alright," Charlie reassured him. "We worry about you, you know? Mother could barely sleep at night thinking about you…"
"Charles!" Lynda exclaimed sternly, having Charlie giggling lightly. "Well, he's right in that we do care. I tried to force myself not to, but alas…Here we are."
"I never stopped caring, Lynda…And thank you for it, for everything…"
"I'm glad we feel the same…Can we finally come in, though?" Lynda shook her head and said playfully, making Gron flinch and be torn away from his trance.
"Ah, yes, yes, of course!" He stepped aside, allowing his family comes into the house.
"So, you live here, then?" Lynda wondered, looking over the old ailing flat and speaking with a tone of genuine sympathy. "Well, you do a good job keeping it tidy; it can't be easy here."
"I'm sure dad would move to a better place once he has enough money," Charlie suggested before looking at Gron. "Right?"
"I haven't thought about it yet…But hey, with the new job I have, all is possible. Fazbear Inc pays better than any of my previous companies." He said with hope, once again remembering how lucky he was with such a well-paying job now. "But come here, sit down. I'll make you some tea!" Gron welcomed them to sit on the small table in the kitchen. There were only a few chairs there, but Gron was more than willing to take an old stool for himself. When his guests were sat, he rushed to the kettle, eager to begin the preparation. If he knew that they would come here, Gron would be able to prepare, but now he had no choice but to improvise. Lynda and Charlie sat down in anticipation, though neither of them would think of hurrying Gron up.
"So…Any news on your side? How is school going, Charlie?"
"As always, pretty good." The boy responded confidently. "We had an exam week recently, but now they're all done!"
"Were they hard?"
"No, not particularly." Charlie shrugged.
"I am jealous sometimes." Lynda looked at Charlie with eyes full of pride. "He's one of the best in his class and does everything he can to remain so, even I couldn't be as focused in my younger years."
"I mean, was there any doubt that our son was exceptional?" Gron winked at Lynda as he poured the tea.
"I'm not. I just work really hard." Charlie declared in a calm, confident tone. He was never one to deny his capabilities, but he also didn't waste time, becoming far too prideful because of it. After all, there always were more heights to reach, and he met them with excitement and intrigue. A son Gron always aspired to have, a person he always aspired to be.
"Oh, I know that better than anyone…Thank you for helping mother." Gron commended him. "I know you do your best to make it easier for her."
"He does, he does…" Lynda smiled. "It's hard enough as it is with all the work I have to do, and my boss always demands his employees work to the highest standard…" She looked down and shook her head in disappointment before raising her head towards her son again. "I wish I had more time to be with him and help him out. I really, really do…"
"You're doing enough, mom, don't worry." Charlie was quick to reassure her, though Gron could sense some doubt in his voice. Every child needed their parents' love and having Charlie live through a divorce, and such separation at a young age has left its own scars, no doubt.
"I wish…" Lynda scoffed with pained disdain and directed nowhere but towards herself, a feeling all too familiar to Gron. This grim realization and inevitable acknowledgment of your own failures sting twice as hard when one realizes that all of them would affect a young child. At least Lynda tried her best, not succumbing to foolish, idiotic mistakes in the same way Gron did in his pride. "But enough about us, tell us how is your job going, Gron? I can swear the party was the happiest I've seen you since…Forever, really. Even since your illness progressed, you never allowed yourself such release, so I've been wondering if…If it means that the worst is finally over." On an incredibly rare occasion of Lynda's voice quivering, she asked the worrisome question to which Gron didn't know an answer. He paused, pouring the green tea in silence, thinking about what to say. All Gron was certain of was that he didn't wish to lie. It would be easy to tell the truth to others but much harder to find this truth within himself. It felt much easier for a while, especially when Gron focused on the job at hand, but every time he got back home, it returned. Hellish visions of the twisted ones, yesterday, today, tomorrow…A horrific cycle, that's all it was. A cycle from which there was no escape, no matter how Gron yearned for it.
"They're…Still there." The man admitted as he put the tea on the table for his family and finally took a seat on the stool. He couldn't force himself to look into their eyes as he spoke those words, for it was one of his deepest desires to be free from his nightmarish shackles by the next time they met, but that wasn't the case. "But I haven't succumbed to them, not once."
"Are you sure?" Lynda inquired, only to get an answer from Charles.
"You know dad is strong and that he can resist this." He reassured her before looking at a doubtful Gron with hope. "You can, right?" A trait his wife and son shared, always sharp with their questions, always to the point.
"For now…"
"What do you mean?"
"I…" Gron continued to stutter before taking a deep breath. He needed to restore his self-confidence at all costs. This wasn't the first time he felt like crumbling when discussing his pain, even to those he knew would listen. "The job…Makes it easier; I can spend time with others and not think about it too much…We'll, except for the time it just appears randomly out of nowhere; of course, it's all a jumbled fucking mess…" As clear as those nightmares were in Gron's head, conveying them to reality has been an incredibly daunting task. They did not translate to words, one had to see it through his eyes to understand, and it wasn't possible. He could feel his presence still, the twisted one, the monster that never truly left. Hiding in the walls and shadows, waiting for something, for a moment when it can claim control and be free, the devilish mirror image of Gron that would not let him go. It laughed and screeched at the moments when Gron could feel safe, never letting go. He wished for all of this to end, as did Lynda and Charlie, even though neither knew if this would ever end or if Gron would ever be able to become a man free from pain once again.
"Dad, are you…Crying?" Charlie asked with emerging warmth and worry in his voice. Gron didn't even notice how he shed a tear after making himself go through all those nightmares yet again, they were so vivid and real, and the delusions that it would get better were but a temporary reprieve that had no base in reality.
"It's…Ah, forgive me. I shouldn't have gotten too sentimental." Gron wiped his tear and looked away. "We aren't here for the pain, are we…"
"We're here for all of it," Lynda responded grimly, yet with a voice echoing with sympathy. "Doesn't matter how good or bad it is, not anymore, I suppose." She sighed quietly. "I never hated you…I was angry, but I know that it wasn't your fault. What you are going through is…Horrible enough."
"It is my fault, Lynda, but thank you." Gron composed himself. "I appreciate it, truly, I…" He couldn't finish, the warm embrace of his son made him look down awkwardly, yet he quickly got to his senses and hugged him back.
"You can do it, dad; I know it because of how strong you always were…I love you." He said and tightened his grip, so attached he was, so eager to rekindle the fires that have long been extinguished.
"I love you too, Charlie…If anyone can keep me from going completely insane, it's you and Lynda, even in our separation." Gron smiled warmly, clinging to the anchors that kept him in reality. Finally, he could focus on warmer memories, if only for a moment, which, however, served as an immediate reminder of something that he had to say, of another perfect opportunity that reached them so soon. "You know, that reminds me…" Gron changed his tone to a more playful one as his eyes focused on Lynda. "William, bless his soul, has another proposition for us."
"With how much he helps us, you'd better be careful he doesn't ask for your payment…" Lynda joked, leading to Gron shaking his head.
"No, he isn't like that, and you know it! It's about Clara and the opening of a ballet performance, the one she plays a part in…He's taking his entire family and invites all of us, too." Gron explained, looking at Lynda and Charles with gleaming hope in his eyes. "Another chance for us to do something fun together with them."
"I can't say I ever cared for the ballet…" Lynda responded with uncertainty, but soon she caught Charlie's persistent gaze upon herself.
"We have to go!"
Well, it seemed the decision was already made.
…
Day after day, William finally grew accustomed to his job. Spending days in the office and his workshop planning designs for the animatronics that were to become the face of the company and occasionally changing up the setting by descending into a far friendlier and warmer atmosphere of Fredbear's Family Diner to check up on the Spring Lock suits. Their concept was another source of intrigue for William, as they showed a truly unique design, with the only flaw being how susceptible they were to water and other liquids, making them incredibly dangerous. If that flaw was bypassed, they would have a perfect design for different tasks, accommodating both man and machine.
There were a few questions, however, to which William did not know an answer. Both springlock suits had an element in their design that seemingly played no role whatsoever. When one opened the suit, a change in the patterns became evident. A hole in their suit might have been taken for a crack in the suit, but the design around it was immaculate, its edges were perfectly designed, and there was no doubt that such a technology has always been there, but why? It wasn't necessary for providing air, there were other openings in the suits as well, and this was not the opening used for charging them either. It didn't make sense to have it there, yet Alison insisted that all future models must retain this element, similar to how he wished all of the endoskeletons were made from a specific material that Fazbear Inc would provide. William wanted to know why that was, but he quickly realized that he would not get answers, at least not as soon after beginning to work in the company. All he could do was continue his work on the animatronics and make them as immaculate as he could.
And to do this, he inevitably had to have a glimpse at the characters themselves. After days of trying to find some spare time, the hour finally approaches. Finally, William could see some of the episodes that Chris and Elizabeth begged him to watch and see what was the source of such a cult-like following. Perhaps he will be impressed too, though William cared little for the plot; all he wanted was to gain some ideas on how to convert these characters to animatronic designs and spend some time with his children. When William came home that evening, he knew that Clara was still rehearsing and Michael wouldn't come back until far later, while his other two children were giddy with the joy of anticipation.
Ahead lay a few hours of binging "Freddy and Friends," and it was more interesting than William anticipated it to be, even if by a small margin. A simple yet engaging tale about a group of three close friends who had to venture into the wider world when their home was threatened by evil, selfish animals who wanted to take control over the woods. For a time, they did, forcing Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica out, which resulted in them seeking out other allies such as Spring Bonnie, Fredbear, and captain Foxy. His favorite episode had to be the last one they watched when the trio along with Foxy sailed in the open seas following the ship of their enemies that had to run from the woods. This resulted in a chaotic fight amidst the seas, much like a pirate movie of sorts. Freddy got wounded and barely got out of the bullies' ship, and only due to Bonnie's help. Unfortunately, that entailed Bonnie himself getting captured just before others could save them. The end was close, and all that remained were three heartbroken characters watching as their enemies sailed away with Bonnie in their clutch.
"Rascals, all of them!" Captain Foxy shouted in anger before he turned towards Freddy and Chica. "Forget the payment; I'll help ye deal with them anyway."
"But didn't you say…" Chica began, only to be interrupted by the pirate.
"Aye, I did, but no one dares to attack my ship and go unpunished!"
"Can we focus on helping Bonnie?" Freddy interjected. "I can't imagine what Buster will do to him; maybe we should've stayed…"
"We can save him, I know!" Chica reassured him. "Have hope…"
"Glad ye have plans, but first we gotta know where in the hell they've taken him!"
"Well, I think I might." Freddy took out a map and put it before Foxy. "I got this from their ship. There's some kind of path on here…"
"Hm, let me see…" Foxy examined the map for a few seconds before jumping up in shock. "Shiver me Timbers! I know where that leads!"
"Where?" Chica wondered.
"It's an old path that most consider the stuff of legends…Legends that say that it leads to a fountain of youth in the isle beyond any sailor's reach!"
"And have you ever been there?" Freddy wondered.
"Nay, that path is too shady even for me…" The pirate pondered for a moment. "But I know who can perhaps lead you there. I'd rather not meet him again, but alas…" Foxy sighed before looking at the gathering clouds. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
Soon, the screen froze, and a narrator's excited voice emerged.
"Who is Foxy talking about? Will Freddy and his friends find the fountain of youth and discover why the bullies need it? Will they save Bonnie in time? Tune in this time next week to find out!"
After he ended his speech, the episode was at its closure.
"Well, at least there's a twist." Afton chuckled with a smile. "I always enjoyed stories like that."
"So you like it?" Elizabeth asked with excitement.
"Well…Yes."
"Hooray!" She jumped in excitement. "See, I told you you'd love it. It's just great."
"Who's your favorite character?" Chris asked quietly, clutching the Fredbear plush William gave to him some days ago, a present that he loved and cherished with all his heart.
"Hm, a good question…" William pondered for a moment, there were a few that stuck out to him, both among the heroes and villains, and it was hard to pick a single one. "I like Saber, he is as close as you can get to an actual pirate in a kids' show."
"Oh, you're gonna love the episode after next…" Elizabeth smiled playfully. "Can we watch a few more?" She pleaded, but considering how quickly their time had passed, leaving nothing but darkness behind their window, William had no choice but to decline.
"We can do it in a few days, it's too late now." He said, noticing an expected shift in Elizabeth's expression as her eyes immediately dropped to the floor, full of disappointment. "But dad…Just a few more."
"We had more than enough for one day, and someone here has school tomorrow." William had to cross his arms. He knew that his daughter won't back down easily. "Trust me, maths is much harder when your brain is sleep-depraved."
"Oh god, don't remind me…" Elizabeth looked away and said in a whiny voice. "I hate maths! Why can't we do something fun there, like…Like watching Freddy and Friends?"
"The more you find it boring, the more chance there is it will be very useful in the future. One of those pesky laws of life."
"Not again…" Elizabeth sighed. "Alright, fine, but can we at least watch more on the weekend?" She pleaded, noticing a smug smile emerge on her father's face.
"You know I don't ever leave things unfinished." He reassured his daughter, allowing her to become her joyful self once again.
"Thank you, dad. I love you!" She exclaimed and rushed into her dad's embrace, which he gladly reciprocated.
"And I love you." He allowed himself a glimpse of warmth in his usually stern voice. He held Elizabeth with one hand while putting another one over Chris's shoulder, making the boy look up. "Both of you." After those words, he pulled both children a bit closer so they could share their warmth with each other. Moments like these always reminded William of who he worked first and foremost. Dreams and ambitions have always played a role in his work, but it was his family that truly motivated him to never stop, to continue earning as much as possible to ensure his children have the best future possible and have lives they would find fulfilling. All three of them had different inclinations, and each would have to discover a way of their own. His and Clara's job was to be there for them and support their children, whatever their calling was.
"I love you too, dad…" Chris spoke quietly before yet another moment of silence, after which William spoke up.
"Well, both of you have to get up early for school, so you'd better go and get some much-needed rest."
"Alright…" Elizabeth didn't argue much after being soothed by promises of another exciting evening. "Good night, dad!"
"Good night."
Chris and Elizabeth stood up and left for their rooms while William watched them with a proud smile. They were everything to him and there was nothing he wouldn't do to see them become the best version of themselves, to grow, and see their dreams realized. He had no doubt that one day, this would be exactly how it would be.
As for his own dreams, now that the children finally went to their beds, it was a perfect time for William to realize them. He retired to the bedroom upstairs, eager to begin the amusing process of brainstorming. His theory of watching the show for ideas worked wonders, and now William had an image in his mind that went beyond simple sketches. He knew who those characters were and how they behaved, and ideas for their realization immediately sprung to his mind.
Soon William found himself sitting at his desk with stacks of paper before him, trying to write down and sometimes even draw the ways in which he would want those animatronics to look. It was an endless stream of consciousness, allowing Afton to enjoy his work to the fullest. He saw those creations in his mind, saw them sing and entertain as crowds of children gather around them and look in marvel, awing at his creations. His children would love it too, he knew, and he wanted to make it happen, wanted to outdo himself with this project.
Foxy has been one of the simplest ones, for he was never the one to hide his quirks. He needed a hook and had many pirate catchphrases from the cartoon embedded in his voice box. His behavior must be quite excitable but also aloof enough to distinguish him from the trio. An annoyed captain who nevertheless would gladly accept help from the visiting children, all of which will become his crew. He will tell them the stories about the seas and perhaps have a parrot at his side like a true pirate would.
Speaking of others, Freddy and Bonnie would have to maintain their musical instruments, while Chica would look best with her signature cupcake. Perhaps this cupcake could look 'alive' as well to make it even more distinguished. She would be the one announcing the coming food and encouraging children to return to their parents and have a meal once the time comes. As for Freddy, he should have the most soothing and pronounced voice of them all, as the main singer…
"Dad?" William heard Chris's voice echoing from behind, immediately pulling him away from his endless pondering and forcing him to swiftly turn toward his son. Such a sudden reaction caused the boy to recoil and drop his toy to the floor; William quickly realized that he might have scared him, however.
"Ah, it's you…Sorry, I've been a little too focused."
"Oh, I see…" He said shyly.
"Why aren't you asleep?"
"I don't know…Don't really want to." Chris shook his head and shrugged nervously. It wasn't hard for William to notice the fear and unease in his tense movements, as well as his trying to avoid eye contact.
"Is it the nightmares again?" He asked cautiously, causing Chris to look up frantically.
"Oh, it's not. I…" He stuttered before letting out a heavy breath. "Well, maybe…I just don't like the darkness."
"You know there is no one here except us three, do you?" William tried to appeal to him, though he knew that child's feelings could not be simply explained away with reasoning and logic.
"I know, it's just…" Chris was at a loss for words. He was a very impressionable boy, and even at this age, he saw dreams that kept him awake at night. There were little others could do but reassure him that his imagination wasn't real.
"You can sleep here if you want. I won't be too loud." William suggested, but Chris quickly shook his head.
"Thank you, but I'm fine…I have Fredbear with me." The boy responded stoically.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah…Maybe I'll wait until mum is home."
"She won't be until a few hours later. You aren't going to wait all of that time, are you?"
"Not that long, I guess…" Chris said in a doubting voice before looking at his father's desk with curiosity. "Are you working on them? The trio?" The boy spoke up with curiosity.
"I am," William responded with pride. "A beginning of a grand invention, the one that will become the face of the entire company sooner or later…" He took one of his sheets of paper with an outline for Bonnie and showed it to Chris. The animatronic held a red guitar and was in the middle of singing a song or talking as his mouth was open. William intended to capture all the details to absolute perfection. "Take a look," William said as he watched Chris open his mouth in awe.
"Wow…He's just like the one in the movie!" Chris said in excitement.
"Shh, Liza is sleeping."
"Oh, yeah, alright…Are you gonna make them yourself?" Chris once again said in a quiet voice.
"Me and a few other engineers, most likely. But I am overseeing this whole process from beginning to end, and my boss seems to trust me enough for that, so…You would have something to tell other children." William winked playfully at his son as he put the drawing back on the table.
"That's awesome! And that they would allow you to work on those animatronics so quickly…You really are the best inventor!" Chris devolved into praise, and though it warmed William's heart to know how much his children look up to him, there was no need to overstate this.
"I got lucky, that's all. They didn't have any technicians available, so my boss took the opportunity and, seeing how I'm eager to work, decided to let me go all out on it…" He sighed.
"Well…That means we're all lucky. If you can make the trio, everyone in town will know about them, and they'll see how great of a creator you are! It will be worth it!"
"I know, I know…It's not really admiration I'm looking for." William shook his head.
"Then what is it?"
"As much as I'd love seeing my creations animated…First and foremost, I need enough money to support all of you when it comes to it." William put his hand on Chris's shoulder, helping him ease up. "You've all got a long way to go, after all."
"Oh, dad, you don't have to…" Chris looked down shyly, but William saw his smile.
"Well, too bad, because I want it." He responded with pride and hugged his son.
"Thanks…We are all thankful for it. Mike is thankful, too. I know, he just…Well, you know."
"We all have times when we aren't at our best. I had mine, and that's why I worry for him sometimes…I see too much of my younger self. But I found a way; he will too." William held onto hope that Michael won't distance himself from his family any longer and understood that all of them are here to help. A loving family wasn't a luxury William had at the time, and he was resolved to make sure that it wasn't the case for Mike.
"I know; I believe in him. I know he's nice, just…Not always." Chris sighed. "Also, dad…If you are going to make those robots, can you make them…Not as scary as the other ones?"
"I'm not sure if this is possible with how they operate, but…Well, always worth a try."
"Thank you! I know if anyone can do it, it is you." As always, the unyielding faith that his son clung to. All William could do is try and deliver.
"You'll be the judge of that…And now I think it's time for you to go to bed. Even if you aren't tired, your golden friend over here certainly is."
"Heh…He never sleeps. He protects Elizabeth and me from nightmares!"
"Then he'd be grateful if you let him do his job this night."
"Yeah…Alright, I'll go. Thank you, dad, you're doing great work!" Chris's supportive voice echoed in William's ears moments before he disappeared, leaving his father with a warmed heart fueled by both memories and hopes for their bright future. It all starts here, with a project that will define William's new career.
After talking to his son, however, there was something he wanted to look at before continuing to work on the animatronics for Fazbear Inc. William reached for his desk, taking out one of the sketches that had remained untouched for weeks now, ever since he heard of Fazbear Inc he, unfortunately, had no time to work on it yet. An image of a woman with closed eyes and a purple skirt swirling in a perfect elegant dance beneath the moonlight, William immediately imagined the ballet music her performance would be accompanied by. Unfortunately, she won't be ready before Clara's coming performance as William hoped long ago, but one day she will see this tribute in her honor, and this will be a day of immense pride for both of them.
An occasion to look forward to every coming day.