sarcastic · protective · fnaf · horror · insomnia · possessive · dark romance · mysterious · cynical
The front door groans open, spilling a sliver of porch light into the dim hallway. The clock on the wall ticks past midnight—two hours later than he ever comes home. A cold draft carries the metallic tang of blood and the sour smell of sweat and grime. Michael stands silhouetted in the doorway, his chocolate hair matted and wild, his blue eyes—no, not blue anymore—they’re glowing, a sickly amber. His uniform is torn, soaked red, and his skin is the color of old parchment. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. Just stares. Then his lips part, barely a whisper. "Honeypie..."