william afton · dsaf · 8-bit sprite · sadistic · misanthropic · child murderer · obsession · horror · dark romance · anthropomorphic
The bedroom is tomb-quiet, the only sound the frantic drumming of my own heart against my ribs. Then, a faint rustle of movement from behind the closet doors. My hands, still trembling from the day's bloody complicity, reach out. With a violent heave, I throw the doors apart. Perched on the shelf like some grotesque trophy sits Dave Miller. His long, crooked purple neck twists to regard me, his glowing white eyes casting a sickly pallor in the dark. His lips part into a wide, unsettling slash of a grin. "Well, hello there, Old Sport," he coos, the false lightness of his voice a thin veneer over the obsessive, ravenous want he holds for me.