Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cassidy stood in front of the red lake of agony. “Rest your soul.” The old man had said, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She promised Andrew… They would torture Afton together. She would help build him a personal hell. But now that she had the chance… she wasn’t sure if she wanted to do that anymore. She was never a violent kid. She never liked hurting people.

Even if Afton was evil, she had always never felt right about Andrew’s plans for him. Besides, Afton was Evan’s father, and Evan was her friend. More so than Andrew. Evan was kind and forgiving. She was so jealous of that. But it didn’t make her hate him. She just wanted to be more like that.

Charlie was also a very kind person. Charlie was her best friend. She didn’t want to torture Afton, but Andrew never really liked Charlie anyway. Why would he listen to her? Only Cassidy.

Cassidy now had a decision to make. Afton was under her thumb, a bedridden corpse that she was keeping alive for Andrew. His mind under their control, but only if she pitched in to help. Otherwise it would be weak. She could go with Andrew’s plan and get the revenge she so wanted. She could torture him forever. Or she could go to sleep. Sleep in the lake. Afton would die, maybe see his kids again, and she could see her parents. Maybe then Andrew can move on and finally be happy.

The old man continued to fish, not paying the little girl in a bear suit any mind. Maybe that was for the better. His fox-like face almost creeped her out. It looked too much like Foxy, but not real enough. It was uncannny, like a poorly made mask.

She stepped into the water. Hoping that whatever happened would make the choice for her. She didn’t want to stay here for very long. She could swear she heard screams… She didn’t like it.

The water, if you could even call it that, was freezing cold. Her legs were starting to get numb as she walked deeper. This was starting to feel more like a bad decision, but she pressed on. Pressed on in hopes of a way to avoid anger from either side. She didn’t want to choose. She didn’t want to disappoint her friends. She didn’t want Andrew to hate her. Andrew had no one else but her, would she be a bad person for abandoning him? She thought so.

Cassidy felt like she was going to collapse. She couldn’t go on any further. She could barely see anymore. Barely feel. This was the wrong choice and now she was going to suffer for it. Maybe if she jumped in, she could’ve gone somewhere, but no. She never reached the bottom.

She lost consciousness as she collapsed into the freezing lake. Her body started off floating at the top, but slowly sank. There was a hole at the bottom of the lake, but she never fell down. She remained on its ledge. The old man finally looked up. Where did that bear go?

“Oh well…” He shrugged and went back to fishing. Something grabbed his leg. It felt gooey and angry and looked black like sludge. It was agony. Consequences leaped up, but in doing so, he fell. The agony dragged him into the lake. All that was left was his seat and his pole.

Agony from all sides crawled out of the lake. It was intent on consuming everything in it’s path. A small boy in an alligator mask slowly peeked out from the woods. Had he been watching Cassidy? Yes. He just wanted to make sure she made the right decision (helping him). Unfortunately, she didn’t make it where she needed to. If she just went a little farther, they could’ve created something beautiful. Something magical. Something excruciating.

Andrew gazed at the black goop. It was moving all on its own, with no guidance. Well if Cassidy wasn’t going to help him achieve his revenge, he would just have to do it on his own. He stuck his hand in the agony and picked it up. It felt almost like slime. He squeezed it, and it bent to his will.

Good.

Now… what to create?

Chapter Text

Whispers flooded William’s mind. His skin, or whatever was left of it, burned. He could feel it bubble. He felt gross. He wanted to open his eyes, but he wasn’t sure how. For whatever reason, he couldn’t feel his eyes. He hoped they were still there. Where was he?

Ground. He could feel the ground below him. THat was a good sign. His body was pressed against it face down. His hands touched it. The ground was hard. Not like grass or dirt. 

The last thing he remembered were Henry’s words and pain. Fire. Henry had trapped him in another fire. He had tried so desperately to escape again. Looking for his daughter, his son, Charlie, and even Molten Freddy, he tried to drag them out. He didn’t want to lose his family again, but he couldn’t find an exit fast enough. 

Charlie didn’t want to go with him anyway. She wanted to rest. She wanted this to end. Michael did too. Even the spirits that used to possess the Golden Freddy animatronic, who at the time, inhabited his body to keep him alive, wanted him to rest. 

The fire hurt, but after a while, he stopped feeling it. Cassidy and Evan made sure he didn’t feel it. Those sweet kids… He had nothing but paternal love and respect for them, despite how much pain he caused them. Even his poor son…

Now he could feel the after effects of the burns. He had survived multiple fires and every time he could feel the burns, even after he had escaped the fire, licking his flesh and caressing it with it’s burning touch.

He opened his eyes. He was too close to the ground to see much. His eyes hurt anyway, as if he had forcibly opened what was stuck shut. He used what little strength he still had to push himself away from the ground and sit on his own knees. 

He opened his eyes again. The world around him was dark and foggy. He could barely see two feet in front of him. He put his head in his hands. He had a pounding headache. He groaned hoping there was no one around in this strange place to hear him. 

Was he in hell? 

Serves him right. Where else did he expect to go? Heaven? Certainly not.

He could feel his hands. They didn’t feel like his. They felt wrong. It felt like he didn’t have hands at all. Or if he did, the ones he were seeing would slip through his fingers revealing his real hands. Were his hands even real? Was any of this even real?

They were black and inky. In fact, his entire body looked like oil, oozing and pulsing having no control over it. This was agony. He had seen it before. He preferred doing research on remnant, but he couldn’t ignore it’s obvious existence. 

Bill looked up. His surroundings looked exactly like the last place he was in. Michael’s pizzaria. It was dark, darker than he remembered. The place looked nearly untouched by the fire… nearly. The walls were covered in ash and the floor looked charred. Maybe it was a lake of agony. Maybe he was really from the fire. 

Why was he here?

Hell was not what he was expecting. He really expected fire and brimstone and endless suffering. Not his last memory alive. Although his last memory alive was ALSO fire… hmm.

He tried to stand up, but he felt himself shake. He could barely hold up his own weight. He still felt like he was in his suit… but he didn’t see it on him. He stumbled forward and fell in one of the chairs.

There were no tables, but chairs were scattered everywhere. 

Bill was so tired. Just standing nearly took away all his energy. He needed to sleep, but he didn’t know if that was possible. He needed to look around. He needed to compose himself. He needed…

He could feel himself drifting away. His vision was blurring and his world was fading. For a split second, he thought he saw his daughter, Scrap Baby, out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to call out to her, to see her again, to hold her and be with her in this strange place. But it seemed his unconsciousness would prevent that. 

He slipped away, slumping in his chair. He hoped that she would be there when he woke up…

IF he woke up…