A/N: The battle between murderer and father is finally coming to a close. A battle in the depths of Mike's mind that has only escalated in both intensity and brutality ever since it began. Mike has unleashed all of his darkness, both literally and figuratively, upon the man who destroyed the lives of his children and turned them into a nightmare that has lasted for decades…

or has he?

On an unrelated note, there were actually a few ideas for the battle between demons and shadows last chapter that I actually missed. For example, I had intended for Mike to summon a battalion of dullahans who carried their heads as lanterns in their left hands and wielded whips made of human spine in their right. The dullahans would be able to either trample William's demons or snap their heads off with their whips, while their lanterns would basically have Nightmare's "Bonnie" effect on a much smaller scale. Kinda wish I incorporated that, now that I think about it…but too late now. The chapter was really long as it was.

Rockstar Ballora: Maybe as a nightmare sequence (no pun intended), but otherwise probably not. The scenario you're suggesting would have fit better earlier on in the fic when the ghost kids were still distrustful and/or nervous that Mike still hadn't forgiven them for what they did back in 1993.

Ghostlyassassin Jesse: Honestly I didn't really put much thought into Charlie having italic dialogue even as the Puppet. I guess it could be because she's even more supernatural than the others, but other than that I don't have much to say. As for Lefty, she might still use him from time to time, but Mike probably wouldn't fit in his body.

Dash: Probably not. Ghosts are forbidden from going back to Earth from the afterlife and this rule is STRINGENTLY enforced, with very few exceptions allowed.

Bill Cipher: While I appreciate the suggestion, what you're suggesting is essentially impossible. Not just because I know literally nothing about SCP, but also because a crossover of any kind would completely derail the fic and I try to adhere as strictly to FNAF as possible without directly incorporating any other media apart from references and/or fiction that the ghosts enjoy.

Phillip: Well, win-win is the "loosest" description, but technically the answer is yes.

AlchemyWriter: I plan to answer that question this chapter.

Chapter 80 – Battle in the Mind, Part 4

Unseen by either murderer or protector, Nightmare watched the ongoing battle from the shadows.

He had arrived soon after the second stage of Mike and William's duel, right when Mike had thrown William from the Freddy Fazbear-themed arena to the pit that even now reminded Nightmare so very much of home. From the moment he witnessed Mike unleash his first attacks, Nightmare knew that the man was entirely capable of dealing with William on his own. He hadn't entirely let his guard down, for he had every intention of honoring his oath to save Mike if William proved to be too powerful for him to handle. But as he watched the two attack each other with their fury and their hatred, that possibility had become less and less likely.

And then William had essentially cheated, summoning the remnants of Vucarik's army from the depths of Hell itself, spitting on the tenets of honorable combat without care. The demon lord had been enraged by this cowardice and had almost intervened…but then Mike had summoned his own army formed from the darkest aspects of his soul, and Nightmare had felt pleased and satisfied that Mike would be able to handle himself even in the face of William's treachery.

But it was the last few moments that had truly caught the demon lord's attention. Abusing the advantages provided by being in control of his mindscape and taking them to their logical extreme, Mike had unleashed ruin and devastation upon over a thousand demons with a level of power that only powerful entities like himself could hope to wield. The way that Mike had singlehandedly and effortlessly drowned William Afton's weaklings in fire and shadow had showed Nightmare just how much control Mike truly had over William's supposed "invasion"…

…and that what little patience Mike had left was slowly but surely drawing to its end.

/

"YOU MUST BE SO FRUSTRATED, WILLIAM AFTON…" Mike addressed his most hated enemy with mock sympathy that did nothing to hide his contempt. "YOU SOMEHOW MANAGED TO GET AN ENTIRE ARMY OF DEMONS AT YOUR BACK, A RESOURCE THAT MANY FANTASY VILLAINS WOULD LITERALLY SELL THEIR VERY SOULS TO OBTAIN…AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT IS ANOTHER STUNNING FAILURE!" he let out a cruel laugh at the frustrated rage at William's face. "BUT I HAVE TO WONDER EXACTLY WHOSE FAILURE THIS IS…IS IT YOUR ARMY'S FOR BEING TOO WEAK…OR YOURS FOR BEING TOO STUPID TO KNOW HOW YOU USE IT?"

William bared his teeth furiously. "LAUGH ALL YOU WANT, SCHMIDT," he spat. "YOU CANNOT CONTINUE THIS FOREVER. SOONER OR LATER, YOU WILL TIRE. YOUR POWER WILL EXPIRE, AND THERE WILL BE NOTHING TO SAVE YOU FROM ME!"

Mike scratched his chin with his finger thoughtfully. "AH, SO THAT'S YOUR STRATEGY," he mused. "YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN'T HOPE TO BEAT ME, SO YOU'RE BASICALLY STALLING. NOT A…TERRIBLE STRATEGY, I MUST ADMIT. BUT THERE ARE PLENTY OF PROBLEMS WITH YOUR PLANS, BUT I'll JUST ADDRESS THE BIGGEST ONE FOR NOW. ALL THROUGHOUT THIS BATTLE, MY POWER HAS ONLY GROWN. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT IT WILL SUDDENLY RUN OUT?"

William sneered, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes that Mike could still see. "MAYBE MY POWER WILL SOON REACH ITS END, AND MAYBE IT WON'T. BUT I WILL TELL ONE INDISPUTABLE TRUTH, WILLIAM AFTON: YOU DON'T HAVE A LOT OF TIME. SOON, NIGHTMARE WILL BE HERE, AND IF I CAN'T BEAT YOU BY MYSELF, HE SURE AS HELL WILL FINISH THE JOB FOR ME. SO COME!" he declared, beckoning at William with his fingers. "FINISH ME OFF. CLAIM YOUR REVENGE…IF YOU STILL CAN."

"WITH PLEASURE," Nightmare Springtrap hissed, and with that he unleashed a blast of hellfire from his mouth right towards Mike. The man rolled his eyes at the pitiful attempt and caught the stream in his scythe, converting it from flame to corrupted energy. William charged towards Mike, having used his first attack as a distraction for the second, waiting to intercept the lightning with his claws now that he knew how to deflect it.

But Mike had an entirely different strategy in mind. Instead of firing the lightning back towards William directly, he impaled the blade straight into the ground, unleashing its collected energy. Nightmare Springtrap barely had time to wonder what Mike was doing when he suddenly felt a searing, horrific agony coarse through his entire body, stopping him in his tracks and forcing him onto his knees. In the midst of his pain, he could see the formerly black obsidian floor glowing with red and black energy, and he dimly realized that Mike had unleashed his tainted lightning through the entire floor.

William forced himself to endure the electricity coursing through him and slowly got to his feet, barely in time to intercept two flaming scythe blades, their chains writhing in the air as the blades swung directly at William's throat. The damned monster blocked the blades and tried to grab at them with his hand, intent on ripping the scythe out of Mike's hand or at the very least keep him from swinging it so freely. But the moment he latched onto the chain, it flared with the same fiery aura and William was forced to release it as it burned his hand, leaving a scorch mark that extended from one side of his hand to the other.

Mike retracted the chain of his scythes back to melee range, and it was then that William chose to strike. He barreled towards his enemy again, raising both of his hands into the air to simultaneously crush Mike's skull in and slash off his face. As he swung his fists down, Mike raised his scythes in defense, and swung them up with such sheer force that William was actually taken off-guard and staggered back slightly. He regained his senses quickly enough to block Mike's quick counterattack, and the two ferociously started attacking each other again as they had done before they had summoned their respective armies.

Up until this point, William had been the one with the advantage whenever he and Mike had directly engaged each other in close-quarters combat. His savagery and demonic strength had given him a significant edge in terms of raw power, an advantage that forced Mike to focus more on deflecting or avoiding Nightmare Springtrap's attacks with his speed and dexterity. But now, Mike's power had somehow risen to become equal to William's…and he had lost none of the agility that had carried him through in the earlier stages of their duel. Striking back with inhuman speed and might, Mike could now easily repay William's earlier savagery with a flurry of his own vicious attacks, and it was now William who was forced to protect himself from being torn to pieces. But Nightmare Springtrap was completely unfamiliar to a defensive fighting style after having been the aggressor for so long, and it didn't take long for Mike to overwhelm his defenses and shove William's claws to the side. With a snarl, Mike proceeded to ferociously slice his blades into Nightmare Springtrap's body, his scythes transformed into wheels of fire, shadow, and death as he struck his hated enemy over and over again. The false Nightmare howled in impotent rage as Mike unleashed his combination of unblockable attacks on William, before he finally lifted his weapons up, the crimson flames on the blades burning hungrily as they snaked in the air, and slammed them down upon Nightmare Springtrap's head at the same time.

The impact of this final blow was enough to send William flying backward a small distance, before he crashed unceremoniously onto the ground. The demonic monster let out a groan of pain, his first true expression of vulnerability, as he slowly got to his feet, his entire body burning with excruciating agony at the vicious beating that he had just received. He was certainly no stranger to pain, for he had experienced it many times both in life and in death. And none of Mike's attacks before now had done any true damage to him, since the endurance his demonic essence had granted him had always been enough to protect himself from the worst of the battle.

Now, however, Mike's scythe blades had shredded through those superhuman defenses like tissue paper and cut straight into the wretched spirit within. William looked down at his body and saw that many parts of it had been blackened and burned where Mike had attacked him with his scythes. And worst of all, none of the wounds inflicted by those scythes were healing, not even slightly. That was the part that worried him, more than anything. He was inching ever closer to the limits of his stolen power, and he did not want to think about his fate if his demonic essence failed him.

He forced himself to look at his enemy, and to his surprise, Mike was breathing heavily, his face contorted in exertion as he gritted his teeth in defiance of the oncoming fatigue. A slow grin began to spread across Nightmare Springtrap's mouth at the sign of weakness. It seemed that for all his big talk, Mike was reaching the end of his limits just as he was. If he could wear out Schmidt, either by beating him down or drawing out his attacks, then he would finally be able to silence that irritating insect once and for all.

William lunged at Mike, intent on getting in a powerful attack for free before the man could recover. Almost as soon as it had begun, Mike's shortness of breath vanished immediately, replaced with a mocking grin to match William's own. He snapped his fingers and four massive tornados made of dark magic swirled into existence around him, spiraling around his body to form a countershield that would both protect him from attacks and punish those foolish enough to get too close. William's eyes widened in panic and he tried to slow himself, but he already had too much momentum and couldn't decelerate in time. As he got closer to Mike and his protective tornados, he tried to swipe at the man, but he was too slow and his body got caught up in one of the shadow tempests. Caught in the depths of the tornado, William was sent flying into the air and far away from Mike. But as intimidating as the tornados appeared, they were surprisingly unimpressive with regards to their actual power, and William was able to land on his feet this time with little difficulty or distraction from pain.

Still, the tornados were more than enough to stop him from making any direct attacks on Mike, and he needed a different strategy to get past them. Calling upon his demonic essence, William began to alternate between throwing fireballs and unleashing streams of hellish flame from his mouth towards the tornados, aiming to either weaken their power and force them to dissolve, or somehow go through them and hit Mike directly. But his attacks were disorderly and haphazard without any thought of proper timing, and all of them collided against Mike's tornados and bounced off harmlessly. Growing frustrated, William unleashed one last, particularly intense blast of flames from his mouth, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that this last attack managed to make it through the tornados. He began to laugh triumphantly, in his arrogance forgetting what had happened the last time he had tried such an attack on Mike. William's laughter cut off abruptly when he realized that Mike had once again caught the blast in his hands and fed it to his scythes.

"YOU DON'T SEEM TO LEARN VERY WELL, DO YOU?" Mike hissed. "ONLY A FEW SECONDS, AND YOU'VE ALREADY REPEATED YOUR MISTAKE. NOT MUCH OF A SURPRISE, REALLY, CONSIDERING HOW YOU MET YOUR END THE LAST TIME."

And just like before, he impaled his blade into the ground, and William instinctively leaped into the air to avoid what he was sure was going to be the electrocution of the entire ground underneath his feet. But Mike had something different planned. Instead of dispersing through the arena, the power began to spread in a cross-like pattern to each of the four tornados that had been circling around him. The tornados absorbed the energy given to them by Mike, transforming from mere whirlwinds of dark energy to nightmarish, frenzied tempests charged with the power of Mike's hatred and Nightmare Springtrap's own unholy energy. Before William could even process what had just occurred, let alone react to it, Mike let out a wordless snarl from his mouth and thrust his arm forward, pointing his blade directly at William. The eyes of the weapon's skull head flashed, and all four tornados suddenly broke formation and zoomed towards William, growing bigger and more chaotic with every second that passed. William might have had the speed to dodge one or even two, but there was no way that he could hope to evade all four. The moment the first tornado collided with his body, it flung him high into the air just as it did before. But now, the power within was far mightier and more malevolent than when it had been a part of Mike's defense, and William screamed, flailing helplessly in a futile attempt to escape as the empowered tornado blasted him again and again with the same corrupted lightning that was a hallmark of Mike's power within his mind. To make matters worse, the other tornados seemed to sense that one of their number had captured Nightmare Springtrap within its depths, and immediately converged on that tempest's location to coalesce their own power into one. From a safe distance away, Mike watched with a satisfied smirk as he listened to the now titanic cyclone's mighty rage and William's agonized screams. After a seeming eternity, the figure of Nightmare Springtrap was flung far away from the cyclone and crashed right into one of the pillars at the edge of the flaming abyss with a sickening crunch. William fell to the ground, his demonic body blackened and burned, as the pillar he had collided into crumbled to dust behind him.

Mike gritted his teeth and nearly fell to one knee, forcing himself back upright as he began to hyperventilate even more intensely than before. Controlling the tornados and unleashing their power upon William had been a resounding success in terms of the calamitous damage they had inflicted upon the murderer, but it had cost a great deal of energy for Mike to control them as he had done so, and this time there was no hiding his fatigue.

Seeing the exhaustion that Mike displayed was the only thing that gave William hope and the determination to carry through with his strategy, for he too was beginning to feel fatigue overtake his body. All the damage and destruction that Mike had unleashed upon him had strained his demonic essence beyond its ability to recover, and he didn't have much power left before he finally reached his own breaking point. All he could do now was endure, endure whatever attacks Mike unleashed upon him…and go in for the kill once that power was finally spent.

The fact that Mike didn't seem to be recovering as quickly as he had the last time emboldened William. The demonic murderer began to approach him, this time more cautiously, for he suspected that Mike might attempt another grand spell or attack of overwhelming force to try and stop him. To his delight, he was proven correct, as Mike raised his scythe towards him and a fiery orange sigil of darkness appeared above his head surrounded by flames, the same spell that he had used to brutally execute the infernal battle beast that had been crippled by the vortex of shadows. And for the first time, Mike significantly miscalculated how to wield his spell. He had previously used it against a crippled, slow, and cumbersome creature that would have been practically impossible to miss. And as wounded as Nightmare Springtrap was, he was still far faster than those infernal steeds could ever hope to be. The moment he saw the sigil, William rushed forward to evade, and Mike's eyes widened in surprise as the spell blasted the air harmlessly behind the murderer. Grinning with triumph at the opportunity in front of him, Nightmare Springtrap charged right at Mike, reaching with one hand to grab William by the front of his robes and tear his claws right into his chest. Too slow to block in time, Mike let out a hate-filled snarl as the wounds began to spilled wisps of blood red energy the same color as the flames on his body and scythes. He lifted Mike into the air and began to claw at the man's shadowy body with his left hand, ripping open more gashes all over his body that bled the same red essence. In his haste, William didn't notice how Mike hadn't responded with nearly as much pain as expected from a person grappled and mauled by the claws of a ferocious demon, so engrossed was he at the prospect of finally claiming victory over Mike and brutally avenging all the irritation and frustration that the man had caused him.

"FINALLY!" Nightmare Springtrap cackled as he lifted Mike into the air. "I HAVE YOU NOW!"

To his surprise, Mike's only response was yet another condescending smirk. "OH, REALLY?" he retorted, his unearthly voice descended into a demonic snarl. "I BEG TO DIFFER!"

William had been so focused on Mike's face that he had failed to notice that Mike had banished the scythe in his right hand and transmuted the shadows around it into a cruel black metal gauntlet with spikes on its knuckles. He raised his left hand still holding his scythe towards William, who sneered at such an obvious and weak attempt to retaliate…only for his expression to morph into confusion when he realized that it was the back of the scythe that Mike was pointing towards him instead of the blade, its skull head staring straight into William's soul with its malevolent burning eyes.

"WHAT ARE YOU…" was all William had time to say before a wave of scarlet energy spewed out of the skull's mouth and right onto the monster's eyes, as though it were vomiting the boiling blood of the Phlegethon. William barely managed to shut them in time to stop them from being burned out, but even with them protected he felt as if the entirety of his upper face was being melted off. He quickly brushed off the foul liquidlike sorcery with his left hand, all while keeping Mike tightly held in his grasp with his right. But when he finally felt safe enough to open his eyes, Mike was already waiting for him with his right hand clenched into a fist, the spikes on his gauntlet pointed towards William's eyes. The moment the murderer's eyes flickered open, Mike smashed his fist repeatedly onto William's face, pummeling the exact same spot where he had spewed the molten energy of his scythe again and again. William's head exploded into excruciating pain and his grip on Mike slackened, but not enough to force him o release the man entirely. Gritting his fangs, William endured each and every brutal punch that Mike sent his way, only daring to open his eyes once the punches finally stopped.

A mistake that nearly cost him his sight, for Mike still had one last, vicious trick to play. Stopping his punches hadn't been the end of his onslaught; it had been a change in tactics. Even as William cautiously opened his eyes one more time, Mike opened his fingers, revealing his own set of black metal claws that burned with his sinister flames, every bit as sharp as William's talons. With an inhuman snarl, Mike slashed straight at William's eyes with his claws to gouge them out, a twisted mirror of the main strategy that William had depended on throughout the majority of their battle.

If William had been even a second slower in slamming his eyelids shut, he would have lost both of his eyes to Mike's cruel attack. But even though he might have been able to save sight, it did nothing to change the fact that his upper face was being brutally ripped apart by a giant flaming metal claw. William screamed out the loudest scream of pain that he had given out throughout the entirety of their battle, for none of Mike's other attacks had him with this much savage force in such a vulnerable area. He stumbled backward, his grip loosening even more as he covered his forehead with his free hand and focused his demonic essence to heal the horrific wound left on his upper face at the expense of the rest of his body. As William floundered about trying to recover from the many attacks on his eyes, Mike re-summoned his scythe in his right hand. He raised both of his weapons in the air and slammed the blades down onto the shoulder of the arm holding him. With another pained yell, Nightmare Springtrap released Mike, who took the opportunity to viciously kick William in the chest inches below his neck as he fell to the ground.

Both combatants took a few seconds to recollect themselves, William still reeling from Mike's attacks on his eyes and Mike winded from both the wounds William had inflicted on him and the effort it had taken to break free from his grapple. It was clear that both of them were reaching their breaking point, and that the outcome of this battle would be decided very soon.

"I'LL MAKE YOU A DEAL, WILLIAM AFTON," Mike offered, grinning in spite of everything. "LET'S FINISH THIS BATTLE EXACTLY HOW YOU WANTED IT TO BE FOUGHT." He switched his position into a battle stance, scythes held out in front of him. "A DUEL TO THE DEATH WITH CLAW AND BLADE. I WILL USE NOTHING ELSE."

William's eyes narrowed. He might have been oblivious of Mike's devious nature when he had first started fighting him, but now he sensed that something was amiss. His enemy was willingly giving up his greatest advantages, when he had shown no compunction whatsoever with using any advantage at his disposal earlier? There was something about this offer that felt false, a lie just like the one that had hidden the true nature of the trap pizzeria. But what other choice did he have, when Mike could do whatever he wanted as master of his own mind? He would accept…and watch for any sign of a surprise attack.

"AGREED, SCHMIDT…" Nightmare Springtrap hissed, flexing his claws, which still remained as sharp as several despite all the damage his body had suffered. "IT'S LONG PAST TIME THAT WE ENDED OUR LITTLE GAME."

For a few seconds, the two enemies looked at each other warily, their weapons of choice in position to attack or defend. Then, with two simultaneous battle cries, William and Mike charged at each other, both of them determined to fight with everything they had in what both suspected would be the conclusion of their battle. In a strange twist, the tempo of this particular clash was both slower and less predictable than their other physical combat exchanges. For the first time, William was attacking more slowly and more cautiously than before, focusing just as much on defense as he did on offense. He remembered very clearly the frenzied combos that Mike had unleashed on him last time, and if he got hit by one of those again then it would all be over. Mike, on the other hand, had ironically become more aggressive in his attacks, mixing in swift slashes and slower, fiercer swings in an unpredictable pattern that would have been impossible for William to block if he had focused solely on his previous mindless, attack-oriented mentality. Having adopted aspects of each other's dueling styles, the two combatants had effectively balanced each other out, with only the occasional attack connecting and dealing insignificant damage. On even ground, the course of the battle would be decided by who makes the first mistake.

And surprising even William, it would be Mike who would make that defining error. Having gotten tired of waiting, Mike began to unleash the same frenzied whirlwind of combo attacks that he had used on William after he had wiped out the demonic murderer's army…but William was ready. He held out his arms in front of him, focused entirely on protecting himself as Mike's scythes slammed across his arms and his upper body again and again. He could feel the blades and flames tear and burn into his body, feel his pain increase with every strike…but the worst of the attacks were being deflected, and most of his body remained relatively safe. Mike finished his combo with the same brutal slam that he had done the first time, and the blow was enough to force William's arms apart…but he had endured. He had survived.

And Mike now looked openly exhausted. He was breathing heavily, the flames burning on his body diminishing in intensity. His arms were slumped down towards his sides, and he was struggling to stand. For the first time, Mike Schmidt was truly vulnerable and exposed in his fatigue.

And William took full advantage of that weakness. With a triumphant roar, he leapt forward and sunk his claws straight into where Mike's heart would have been with his right hand, and sliced his other claws across Mike's throat with his left. Mike let out an agonized yell as he felt the full impact of the two grave wounds; combined with the other injuries that had been inflicted on him and his exhaustion from casting so many spells and fighting for so long, it was too much even for him. William, sensing that he had finally achieved his victory, began to laugh maniacally, intending to raise Mike's head into his mouth and rip it off with his fangs.

However, he would not enjoy his victory for long. Instead of breaking down or begging for his life, Mike's entire body began to glow with a blood red aura, and William felt the hand impaling his chest begin to heat up and burn to almost unbearable levels. Realizing what was about to happen, he shoved Mike away from his hand and began to flee towards the safety of the pillars. But he had moved too slowly and too late, and Nightmare Springtrap was blasted backward as Mike's entire body exploded into waves of hellish flame that sent him crashing into one of the few pillars that had remained intact throughout the entirety of their battle. He let out a yell and held his arms out in front of him as he was hit with wave after wave of fire. It was only after he stopped being hit with the force of the explosion that William finally felt safe to open his eyes and look where his enemy had been standing. There was nothing there: he was alone in the fiery pit that represented the darkness of Mike's mind.

/

"NO!" Charlie screamed in horror as he watched William impale her father's body and witnessed the explosion that came after. "IT CAN'T BE!" Tears pouring out of her eyes. "He can't have…he can't have…" she whirled around furiously to face Nightmare Fredbear, her rage increasing when she noticed how utterly nonchalant he appeared in the face of Mike's defeat. "Your brother said she'd save Dad!" she snarled, looking every bit like the vengeful, murderous child that she had once been. "Nightmare promised. So WHY THE HELL DID HE LET THIS HAPPEN?"

To her surprise, Nightmare Fredbear didn't seem angered or surprised at her outburst. Instead, his mouth stretched into an amused grin that for some reason seemed more knowing and understanding, rather than mocking or vicious. "EVEN AFTER SEEING THE COURSE OF THIS BATTLE WITH YOUR OWN EYES, YOU STILL DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT IS OCCURRING HERE?" he asked. "I THOUGHT OF ALL THE GHOST CHILDREN, YOU WERE THE WISEST."

Charlie clenched her teeth. "Well excuse me…" she ground out, "I'm not familiar with epic battles in the center of the mind and how they work!"

"YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE AN EXPERT TO APPRECIATE THE TRUE NATURE OF THIS BATTLE," Nightmare Fredbear retorted, his grin disappearing and replaced by a look of annoyance. "THINK ABOUT IT, PUPPET GIRL. THIS BATTLE BETWEEN WILLIAM AFTON AND YOUR FATHER HAS PROGRESSED IN STAGES. AND IN EVERY STAGE, SCHMIDT BECAME MORE AND MORE POWERFUL, ATTACKING WITH INCREASING VICIOUSNESS AND UNLEASHING MORE DEVASTATING SPELLS AND SORCERY UPON YOUR MURDERER. HIS POWER GREW TO THE POINT THAT HE COULD WIPE OUT OVER A THOUSAND DEMONS WITH JUST TWO SPELLS, A FEAT WORTHY OF HELL'S INFERNAL LORDS. AND HE SUDDENLY, INEXPLICABLY GROWS WEAKER? ABANDONS THE STRATEGIES THAT HAVE PROVEN TIME AND TIME AGAIN TO BE RESOUNDINGLY SUCCESSFUL AGAINST WILLIAM? COMMITS TWO GLARING, AMATEURISH MISTAKES THAT EXPOSE OBVIOUS VULNERABILITIES AFTER PERFORMING THE REST OF THIS BATTLE WITH NEAR FLAWLESSNESS? DISPLAY FATIGUE AND EXHAUSTION IN A WORLD OF THE SOUL THAT HE HAS ABSOLUTE CONTROL OVER?"He gestured towards the portal. "FEEL YOUR FATHER'S AURA. FEEL FOR HIS PRESENCE. DOES HE SEEM TO HAVE WEAKENED? DOES IT SEEM TO HAVE BEEN BEATEN AND BROKEN?"

Charlie closed her eyes and concentrated…and to her astonishment, she could feel Mike's presence through the portal, every bit as prominent as it had always been even though he had vanished. And it wasn't just present…

…it was growing in power. Far more than it had ever done throughout the battle.

"A FASCINATING CONTRADICTION," Nightmare Fredbear continued. "YOUR FATHER IS SEEMINGLY DEFEATED BY WILLIAM AFTON, YET HIS AURA AND POWER CONTINUES TO INCREASE? NO. THE MURDERER NEVER DEFEATED SCHMIDT. IN FACT, HE HAS NEVER EVEN COME CLOSE."

He turned his burning gaze to the portal. "FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, YOUR FATHER HAS PLAYED WILLIAM AFTON FOR A FOOL. HE IS LORD AND MASTER OF HIS MIND, THANKS TO HIS INNATE CAPABILITIES AND MY BROTHER'S GUIDANCE. ALL THROUGHOUT THE BATTLE, SCHMIDT HAS PLAYED A GAME OF DECEPTION. DANGLING OPPORTUNITIES IN FRONT OF WILLIAM TO ATTACK WEAKNESSES THAT NEVER TRULY EXISTED, HIDING THE TRUE EXTENT OF HIS POWERS UNTIL SUCH A TIME AS HE SAW FIT TO UNLEASH THEM. AND THE GREATEST DECEPTION OF ALL…WAS THE VERY IDEA THAT WILLIAM AFTON COULD HAVE EVER HOPED TO WIN THIS BATTLE TO BEGIN WITH."

The grin returned, and now it possessed the cruelty and the malice expected of a demon of his stature. "WE SHOULD CEASE CALLING THIS A BATTLE, NO LONGER CALL THIS A FIGHT. THOSE TERMS SUGGEST THAT WILLIAM AFTON EVER STOOD A CHANCE TO BEGIN WITH. THIS ENTIRE SPECTACLE WAS MERELY A GAME ORCHESTRATED AND DOMINATED BY SCHMIDT, A GAME THAT WILLIAM AFTON INITIATED THE MOMENT HE CHOSE TO INVADE YOUR FATHER'S MIND."

Nightmare Fredbear's eyes flashed scarlet with the impact of his next words. "AND NOW…YOUR FATHER HAS FINISHED PLAYING WITH HIS TOY."

/

William hesitatingly got to his feet, looking around warily. He had expected to gloat in his triumph, but after Mike had proven so much more dangerous in the world of his mind than in reality, all he felt now was relief that he had actually won at all. But that feeling of wrongness that shook him to his core was now stronger than ever before. It wasn't just that even in defeat, Mike had denied him his vengeance and satisfaction, forcing a quick kill and exploding himself instantly to prevent the prolonged and agonized torture that he originally had planned for the man. He could feel Mike's presence and soul around him, as powerful as it had always been…

…as though he had never defeated him at all.

A sudden rumbling interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up. The four giant torch-like demon head statues, which he had entirely forgotten about, were now activating for the first time since he had seen them. The burning fires in their eyes intensified in their glow, and William watched with growing fear as the flames burning in their jaws suddenly billowed out and shot like a jet towards the center of the arena. All four statues unleashed their flames in a similar manner, creating a cross as they fed their power to the same location in a ritualistic fashion. As soon as the demonic statues stopped spewing their flames, a massive pillar of shadow tinged with blood-colored energy and fire erupted from the ground at the convergence point, a display of dark power dwarfed only by the spell Mike had used earlier to annihilate the demonic reinforcements William had summoned. And as the pillar of darkness swirled and writhed, William could hear Mike's laughter begin to echo from its center. The laughter was soft and controlled at first, sounding almost normal, but with every second that passed, it became increasingly mocking, cruel, and inhuman, until it had escalated into a demonic and unholy cackle worthy of a Nightmare. "Heh heh heh heh heh…heh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…A HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!"

The pillar of darkness was suddenly thrown aside as if it were a curtain and vanished, revealing the unmistakable form of Mike Schmidt, looking exactly as he had been in all his dark glory just before the final stage of their battle had begun. There were no injuries, no sign of weakness or exhaustion whatsoever. It was as if Mike had turned back the clock for himself…leaving a weakened and wounded Nightmare Springtrap behind even as he stood tall, more powerful than ever.

And for the first time since he had escaped Hell, William Afton felt terror creep slowly into his heart and mind.

"HOW…" he gasped out, still struggling to catch his breath from the many wounds that Mike had inflicted before. "HOW? HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE, UNHARMED AND UNBROKEN?"

"HOW?" Mike repeated mockingly, his red eyes glowing intensely with malicious glee. "FUCK YOU, THAT'S HOW."

"WHAT GAME ARE YOU PLAYING AT, SCHMIDT?" William spat. "I SUNK MY CLAWS INTO YOUR ETHEREAL FLESH. I WATCHED YOUR BODY EXPLODE TO WISPS OF FIRE AND DARKNESS! THIS SHOULD'VE BEEN OVER!"

"GAME?" Mike repeated, tilting his head in mock thoughtfulness. "THIS ISN'T MY GAME, BUT YOURS. AFTER ALL, YOU WERE THE ONE WHO INVADED MY MIND AND STARTED THIS LITTLE SONG AND DANCE. THIS GAME IS ALL YOURS. I'M JUST BETTER AT PLAYING IT, YOU FOOL. BUT YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING, WILLIAM AFTON. IT'S LONG PAST TIME FOR US TO END THIS GAME. I'VE GROWN BORED OF PLAYING WITH YOU, DANGLING THE FALSE HOPE OF VICTORY IN YOUR FACE. THIS ISN'T ABOUT FIGHTING YOU ANYMORE." His mouth stretched into his own monstrous grin, complete with razor-sharp fangs. Mike tightened his grip on his scythes, and the red flames surrounding the blades flared anew. "NOW IT'S TIME TO MAKE YOU SUFFER."

With the fearless recklessness of a man who knew instinctively that he was doomed, William lunged at Mike and swung his burning claws straight at Mike's neck. The man didn't even bother to move or block, only watching with growing amusement as William slashed open Mike's neck with one brutal swing. His claws tore open a huge, gaping wound in Mike's throat…which almost immediately closed and healed until it was as though it had never existed in the first place. Mike only laughed again at the failed attempt, reveling in the murderer's growing fear.

"ATTACK ME AGAIN AND AGAIN, AS MANY TIMES AS YOU WANT!" he hissed. "NOTHING CAN SAVE YOU NOW." William's eyes widened as Mike charged at him with inhuman speed, only barely having enough time to raise his arms to defend himself as Mike brought his scythes down upon him. And this time, the duel between them wasn't even close.

Power. Skill. Speed. Intellect. Defense. The five qualities with which to evaluate the worth of a fighter. In each of their past clashes, Mike had only allowed himself to surpass William in two or perhaps three at a time, and only to a degree that William would be able to handle. Now that he was no longer merely toying with William, he excelled in all five, and the murderer was doomed from the beginning. It took Mike mere seconds to force Nightmare Springtrap's arms away and break apart his defense, and he wasted no time in attacking the demonic monster with yet another vicious onslaught of combos and attacks. His every movement flowed with inhuman and unearthly grace, as though he was the Grim Reaper himself. Mike's scythes tore through Nightmare Springtrap's metal body, tearing open more and more wounds with every slash. William felt as though his very soul was being torn to pieces, the demonic essence threatening to split apart entirely and leave his soul bare and open in the face of Mike's wrath, and in the midst of his pain he prepared himself for the final slam that he knew would soon come.

But Mike had something even more vicious in mind. Instead of finishing his combos the exact way he had done the past 2 times, he instead maneuvered his blades in an underhand swing that launched William Afton high into the air. Before the man could fall back down onto the ground, Mike shot the blades of his scythes out from the handles and impaled Nightmare Springtrap through the stomach twice in midair. Letting out a hateful snarl, Mike smashed the demonic murderer into one of the few remaining pillars again and again, taking full advantage of the extended range granted to him by his weapons' chains. William let out more helpless screams as he felt his body being slammed against the pillar, the impact crushing his body as though he were being hit by a truck. Mike didn't stop hurling Nightmare Springtrap into the column until it crumbled to rubble, and only then did he see fit to fling the all but defenseless William Afton onto the arena floor, now critically wounded and only a few strikes away from his essence falling apart entirely. Not content to simply leave him be, Mike banished one of his scythes and snapped his fingers, and rings of scarlet energy began to form on the floor all around William. William desperately tried to drag himself to safety, but even if he could escape the radius of one blast there was no way that he would've been able to escape them all. Pillars of black and red flame erupted from underneath his feet, and the murderer was engulfed entirely in this latest manifestation of Mike's hatred. William let out one more agonized scream, and this time he continued to whimper long after the attack actually ended. A cruel smirk appeared on Mike's face. With his "rebirth", William had relearned what it meant to feel fear. Now, he was relearning the true meaning of despair.

There was only one option left for William. He didn't know if the Nightmares had already arrived, nor did he care. Anything was better than remaining here, in a world where his enemy held supreme power over him. He began to dissolve into the form of corrupted fog that he had assumed when he first invaded Mike's mind and fled upwards, trying to escape back into the real world while he still had the chance.

An incredulous scoff escaped Mike's lips. "YOU MUST BE JOKING." He watched with amusement as William flew further away…and hit an invisible barrier. With growing panic and desperation, William's ethereal form tried to push harder to escape…and was met with the same immovable force. He was trapped.

"YOU WERE SO EAGER TO VISIT MY MIND, WILLIAM AFTON," Mike called mockingly after him. "WHY ARE YOU SO EAGER TO LEAVE?" Not waiting for a response, Mike raised his hand up towards the sky and shot his iconic black and red lightning towards William, causing the damned shade to scream in atrocious agony as he was sent hurling back down towards the arena floor, his body solidifying and reforming back into the familiar form of Nightmare Springtrap as he crashed onto the ground. The man could barely move, his entire body racked with pain. He had believed that nothing could be worse than the many tortures of Hell that the Nightmares had proved him through…but for the first time, he wondered if Schmidt was about to prove him wrong.

As William tilted his head to look up at his foe with one last, futile act of defiance, he suddenly felt the ground tremble and quake underneath him. Cracks began to form in the arena, and pieces of the floor began to break apart and fall into the fiery abyss below. Panic filled William as he realized that soon he was going to pummel into the infernal pit of Mike's darkness so reminiscent of Hell…and that there was nothing he was going to do about.

As the cracks approached his location and the ground began to fall away, he watched Mike vanish from sight, although he had little doubt that his enemy was still there, reveling in the moment of his impending defeat. And as the last of the floor broke apart and he started to fall, he heard Mike's voice taunt him one more time. A voice that seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere, without even the slightest trace of humanity left. A voice that emanate with the death of hope and the promise of vengeful damnation.

"̡̲͈̦̤Ị̣͙ ̣̗͙̥W͎̮̫̗͖͔̩ͅÌ͖̮̲̻͚̹̲͞ͅL̩̝̳̝̰̪̲Ĺ̵͏̠̠̞̼̪ͅ ̵̗̩̙̭̜̕F͖̝̠̣̖̩͎͎̀́I̧̛͇̮̺͙NI̸̴̛̹̤͈̩̹̲S̖͍̺͈̖͉̮ͅH̹̣̰̠̘̟̘͡ͅ ̸̘̦̯̼W͏̶̣͙̺̖̲̞H̷̬̟̯̼́A̵̪̘̜͔͙̕T̡̘̺̭͜͝ͅͅ ̧̥͇̪̞̜̘̳͍͡T̵̙̜̺͓͇̼̹̬͢Ḫ̘̘͉̰̳̺̠̘͜E͇̳͓̟̮ ̡̗͔̖̠̝̖NI̩͕͕̻̼̥GH̴҉̤͉͓͕̤T͔̹̯̖̤̠͘͜M̢̗̝͕Á̜̬͇̙R̠͘E̡̙͇̹͈͉͍̮Ș̬̘̞͝ ̛̦̤̥̤͇͇̣͡S͈̤͠͞TA͏͖̳͙̝̮̩̹͢R̘̗͎͈͘͢͝Ṱ͚͙̹͘E̢҉̯D̸͇͔̺͍̘̺̺͘ͅ.͇̙͉̪̘̻͜ͅ"̧̠̝͓

("I WILL FINISH WHAT THE NIGHTMARES STARTED.")

/

A/N: Hey, remember the last time I used bolded Zalgo text? Remember how the last guy who had it was a ruler of Hell powerful enough to slaughter the everloving shit out of over a million demons with like three spells? That alone should be more than enough to tell you how much of a good sign this ISN'T.

As Nightmare Fredbear so insightfully pointed out, this entire battle was a series of deception played by Mike as he slowly unleashed more of his power at a time. And the greatest deception of all was the very idea that William could ever win in the first place. Think about it. Mike has total control over his dream/mind world, control that he has had literal decades to practice and perfect. And he has spent just as much time being exposed to fantasy media to add to his arsenal of imagination to use against William, who in comparison has almost no fictional knowledge whatsoever and thus resorts to only the most basic of attacks and strategies. And when Mike takes his control over his mindscape to the logical extreme…yeah, William had zero shot of winning this. Especially since Nightmare was waiting in the wings to essentially cockblock him out of a win juuuuuuuust in case Mike somehow managed to fuck this up (which he obviously didn't).

I drew on a LOT of different inspirations for Dark!Mike in his duel against William. Sans, Darth Sidious, Kratos, Alucard from Hellsing, Thanos, the Grim Reaper, amongst others. Some of these were inspirations were more subtle and only used for one attack or so: for example, Dark Fawful's most dangerous attack from his boss fight in "Bowser's Inside Story" (only replace orbs of shadow with giant tornados of darkness) and the Snatcher's flaming pillars from his boss fights in "A Hat in Time." It was a lot of fun coming up with different ways for Mike to beat the everloving shit out of William.

But what happens now? What will happen to William now that the battle (if it can even be called that at this point) is over and that Dark!Mike has him entirely in his (lack of) mercy?

Well, that's for next chapter. But I will say this:

HIS FATE WOULD HAVE BEEN KINDER… I̶̠͚͈͈̳̗̕F̢͇̥̰̝͢͠ ̦̠̹̼̼̫͘NI̷͇̠̫̹̰G̶̲̻͔HT̩̞̹̕͟ͅMAR͍̗̻̲E̫̯̬̙̳ ͍͎̮̭H̙̼͔̜̬̭A̵̢̤̪̳D̮̖͓͇̖͖̮̻͘͟͢ͅ ̖̖̖͜G҉͓̖̟ͅO͉̞͔̙͇͎̼̕T̳̯̥̰̪TḚ̲̤N̲̗̙͕͎̼ ͕̥̠̭̩̼̳̀͜͞Ḫ̴͔̤̩̫͍̝̰I̷͉̖͈͕S̵̶͇̖ ̷̡͍̭͟ C̠̙̯͙̭̲͈̕L̜̠A͍͓̼̙̯̳͉͡W҉̥̼͉͘S͎͕̪̕͟ ̶̜͎̯̣̝͞Ó̶̥̕N̴̲͕̪̭̖̗͢ ̧͚͇H̛̗Ḭ̶̡̥̫̹̪̮̬̲̭̕M͏̝͖̖̟̯̭ͅͅ F̴̬͓̺͟I̛͎̤̗̜͙RS̘̮̲̭̟͈͘͠T̶̯̘̣̪͎̣͠.́͘҉̹

("IF NIGHTMARE HAD GOTTEN HIS CLAWS ON HIM FIRST.")