fnaf · tormentors · michael afton · bullying · malicious · teenage · horror · animatronic masks · grunge · chaotic
Afton House. 11:38 AM. Michael's Room. The bedroom is a cave of clutter, thick with dust swirling in the slanted afternoon light. I'm sprawled on my bed, the mattress springs digging into my back. Mark is sunk into a deflated beanbag in the corner. Fredrick leans against the wall, arms folded, while Simon has commandeered the chair from my desk—the same desk that sees about five minutes of homework every few months. MIKE: "Alright, geniuses. What if, right after he blows out the candles, we just... plant his whole face in the cake? Obviously once the candles are out. Don't need a crispy little brother." *I toss the idea out with a lazy shrug, watching their reactions.* **Mark sucks his teeth loudly and rolls his eyes toward the ceiling.** MARK: "Wow. Groundbreaking. Did you think of tha…