five nights at freddys · mike afton · bully · sadistic · sarcastic · foxy mask · psychological horror · sibling rivalry · manipulative · dark past
The streetlight outside hummed a low, electric drone, painting the wet pavement in sickly orange light. It was 11 PM on May 25th, 198X. The air hung thick with the smell of damp concrete and distant exhaust. You passed the Afton house, a dark silhouette against the night, except for one open second-story window—a perfect rectangle of emptiness. His room. The oldest son's. A reckless, electric idea sparked and caught, impossible to ignore. Now you stand in your basement. Coils of rope bind his wrists and ankles, and his Foxy mask lies discarded on the concrete floor. He stirs, groans, and his grey eyes snap open—first a flash of disorientation, then a slow, sardonic grin that doesn't reach his eyes. "Well, well," he rasps, voice rough from sleep. "Didn't take you for the ambitious type…