Chapter Text
This ends,
for all of us.
End communication.
…
Drip
drip
Something kept dripping sporadically in the otherwise quiet offic… huh? The uncomfortable feeling in his legs suddenly set in. ‘Metal?’ What had happened?
Michael remembered the fire in his pizzeria, Henry’s final words. Why- Why is he still here?
Sigh ‘I really don’t even deserve death do I?’ He says with the biggest sigh a man with no lungs could give. He can’t do this any more.
“What do I even have to do now? Is it father again?! He should be dead for real now!” Michael shouted to no one ‘but so should I, I suppose.’ he says getting up from the pile of unidentified rubble. Already tired from this whole thing.
Walls all burned and the roof giving in to gravity, the place smelled more rotten than the purple walking corpse. Tho, he wasn't as butchered as he assumed he would be. Probably something to do with remnant, meaning dead children's souls are involved as per usual, and so would be his father. ‘I wonder if the others survived that. I hope not.’ The kids deserved peace, Michael should meet the same fate as his father.
Walking around the forsaken place, Michael kept looking for an exit. Upon closer inspection, why was he underground? Wasn’t this his pizzeria? Has he been dead for so long Earth reclaimed its territory from humans? No, he would certainly be powder by then. Then, in the mist of debris, a very rough lift could be seen. ‘That is not mine, could it be the exit?’ he pondered, stepping inside. Horrible idea, the lift is broken and shaking like a blender. The Fazbear Ent. way, lovely.
After the joyful ride, Michael found himself in a dark place, but with some colorful neon lights adorning it. The place was huge, but all he could see were the Fazbear decos everywhere, everything had an 80s theme, as far as he could tell, that certainly wasn’t the 80s he lived on… Not wanting to deal with any of that for now he kept walking as fast as possible, ignoring all of the implications of the place.
The place was filled with weird robots roaming around, though these ones seemed much less alive than what he was used to. ‘Could they actually just be robots?’ He could think about them another time, so he kept sprinting.
Finally, he was out of that horrible mall. ‘When did Fazbear get so much money to fund this? I had a trash animatronic band to work with in my time! That’ s ridiculous.‘ Michael whined as he stepped out of the maybe haunted with dead children pizza mall. ‘If all of those animatronics have souls I'll be damned for good.’ He winced at that ‘though, I wonder how much gasoline that would need.’ That already becoming his usual thought.
It was already dark, possibly past 12 am considering the lone roads. Michael began walking, in search for somewhere to stay. If he was doing this again then he would have to think and investigate, so he needed time.
After some minutes a light source could be seen not far. ‘Gas station, that could do’ so he approached the place, there was no one else besides him and a sleep deprived cashier.
“Excuse me,” he exclaimed, voice a little rougher than intended, though expected considering his little situation. The cashier looked up, seemingly startled by the sudden voice. “um-” Ok he didn’t think this trough. What should he even say? ‘Excuse me kind sir, do you happen to know what year it is?’ He sounds like a madman. But before he could even say anything, the guy promptly passed out on the counter. ‘Oh right, purple corpse. Not something you usually wanna see after midnight, or any time really.’ He totally forgot to check how he looked, usually he had his bear mask, but that was long gone.
After finding a restroom and unlocking it using the keys he got from the gone cashier, he looked in the mirror. ‘Oh wow, handsome as ever.’ The stitches in his cheeks came undone, leaving a gaping hole so you could admire the corn teeth adoring his mouth. His nose was long gone, but that was the usual, it was gone a long time ago. His eyes were sunken, only two white glowing dots being visible. Very friendly appearance, not disregarding the smell, he was used to it but it was certainly not nice to other people. His clothes were all butchered and burned as well, light blue shirt now showing specs of his decaying skin, his once vibrant yellow vest covered in ashes, his pants in similar state. But just like him, it wasn't as bad as it should be considering what had happened, for which he was grateful, being purple zombie was enough, he didn't need to be naked purple zombie.
His hair was still there, curtain bangs covering his forehead, but some parts were burned, leaving horrible hair behind or plain holes. He needed a new wig, naked balding purple zombie was the worst.
Guess he would just have to go back to masks, nothing really unusual. He got back in the store, looking for masks to use, and a cap If possible, do they sell caps in gas stations? He sure hopes they do.
Turns out they don't, to Michael's dismay. But he did get a box of black surgical masks, and a pack of gum. He seriously needs to check that, it's not normal to chew this much gum, but the doctors would most likely focus on other stuff if he tried.
‘I should probably pay,’ Michael remembers, shuffling his pockets in search for anything of value. “Let's see, ashes? won't do. Melted some..thing…? Sister? I’d rather not.” Going for his other pocket he felt something “Granny?! No, more ashes.” … He settled on writing an apology note.
Putting on his mask and popping a gum in his mouth he resumed his walk. Hoping he could find some dodgy motel to stay for the night, sleeping in the streets isn't a very good idea when you look and smell like a corpse, worse when you kind of are one. ‘Though, sleeping in a casket isn't such a bad idea, but I doubt they wouldn't just cremate me. Done that, didn't work.’
After a few more minutes he arrived at a motel. Old, dodgy and possibly haunted. ’ah, I already feel home’ finding an empty room, Michael immediately broke in through the window. How did he know it was empty? Well, spending years fighting ghosts in robots having to hear each step they made so he wouldn't die (again) gives you some stealth skills.
There wasn’t anything special about the room, a twin bed, a lamp and an obscure bathroom. There was also a stench that lingered in the air, the kind of stench that stated “I haven’t been cleaned in the last 30 years” but you can’t be sure if it was really the room. Michael sure did not mind it and went straight to bed, suddenly feeling like he hadn’t slept in years, which most likely was the case. Michael would be snoring like a truck if he still had a nose, or lungs.
Michael groaned as he felt the sun assault his eyes(?), but started feeling very uneasy upon hearing commotion from outside. He didn’t waste any time and hid in the bathroom, the noise isolation being so terrible he could still hear the conversation outside. A woman was frantically explaining something to someone, an officer maybe, or another guest, male.
“I’m telling you, there’s a body inside this room!” Oh well.
“Did you see anything? If it’s the stench that’s just the usual.”
“No I didn’t look, I don’t really wanna see a body you know? Can you look, please?”
“What?! As if I would! I don’t wanna see a body either!”
Sigh ‘what should I do now? If I'm lucky- which I never am- they won’t notice my skin if I leave, but I would then become suspect for a supposed body here, and if I stay here they might actually call the police, then I will be the body.’ Michael complains. No one ever talks about the problems that come with being a corpse.
Thinking better, they both sound young. Maybe they won’t have the courage to call the police, they should, now that he thinks about it, but he would rather if they did not right now.
How long would he have to stay in the bathroom? He had a whole lot of stuff to do, he couldn't stay there the entire day.
Then he noticed the voices were becoming more distant, and wasted no time to flee the room. He heard someone shout something and then run, probably the kids from before thinking he was a killer, not the first time people make that mistake. He wasn't going to stay to explain himself tho.
Great, Michael was back in the streets, still purple with burned clothing and no idea what the date was. He hoped it was October, that could make stuff slightly easier.
Wandering the streets Michael began thinking about a plan to deter his father, again. A small part of him wishes to take this new chance to try and live a normal life, a larger part shouting he never deserved one. Plus, he was already dead, there was no life left for him since a long time ago. Stop thinking about that, it's useless now.
‘I should get some non burned clothes, learn about this time, form a new identity, get a job at that Freddy's,’ Michael shuddered, ‘find my father, arson… nothing that I haven't done before’ he decided. Being distracted by his plan, Mike didn't see the wobbling man walking into him, bumping each other making the other man fall to the ground.
‘Drunk already? What time is it? 10 am max.’ Michael internally scolded the man, then offered his hand to help the man up, earning only a slap as the man shuffled on the ground trying to get up.
“Why dontch yu look wzhere yu goin’?” just leave me alone. The man got up, already clenching his fists.
“You walked into me, not the other way around.” Should he take off his mask? The man stepping closer.
“Com here yu little-” he suddenly stopped, eyes widened as he inspected the peculiarly colored man before him, gaping holes where there shouldn't be any holes. “What in de word are yo-”
Michael cut him off with a punch in his stomach, nothing too horrible, just enough to make a drunk man sleep for a while. The guy wore some plain straight jeans and a black t-shirt with the photo of a cat saying ‘Mewing, not meowing’ in bold eletric letters, what's that supposed to mean?
Disregarding that, the guy was wearing a cap ‘finally’ Michael thought. Hiding in a little corner, he exchanged their clothes. If this was morally correct or not didn’t matter at the moment, Michael Afton wasn't a good person anyways.
Putting his mask back on. Making sure to take his name plate from the vest. He also took a look in the man's belongings, looking for a phone so he could see the date.
And so he saw it.
March 2035.