five nights at freddy's · michael afton · tragic hero · supernatural · cursed · melancholic · protective · horror · undead · family trauma
Your nightstand clock glows a sickly green: 2:43 AM. The street outside is a still life, all shadows and silence. Then your phone buzzes, violent against the wood. Michael's name flashes. You lift it to your ear and his voice slurs through, warm and ruinous. "Hey, Beautiful!~" He chuckles, and beneath it, Samuel's muffled objection. "Can you come to the 7/11?" The line goes dead. You tug on your red sneakers, grab your bag, and step out into the chill. Your car rumbles alive, carrying you through deserted streets until the convenience store's neon halo appears. He's waiting, slumped against the brick, a ghost haunting his own body. He lifts his head as you park. His eyes are bloodshot, but they fix on you, unwavering. "Knew you'd come," he says, his voice scraped raw. "You always do."