TW: Dark thoughts, cryptic wording and angst

'Again'...Michael thought, again in his head he saw those horrendous distortions of his father's work as he laid in bed.

'Again, again, again,' Michael squinted his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, Foxy lurked near, hearing his hook on the closet door despite there being nothing over there. 

Michael adjusted himself in his bed restraints, the straps dug softly into his skin, unable to leave his bed, he sighed in despair. 

'When will this misery end? Will the hallucinations take over? Will I die from lack of sleep?' Michael's thoughts plunged themselves into the very core of his brain like some kind of leech.

He whimpered, longing to shove his hands over his ears to block out the noises and thoughts.

Michael had been asking himself that question a lot lately, 'Will I die?' He was scared of dying, especially due to his sheer lack of sleep.

His father didn't like it when he tried to leave his bed, he'd discipline him, then pick him up and take him back to bed, it was only when Michael needed the restroom that he was allowed up. 

His father hated taking him back to bed just as much as Michael hated GOING back to bed, he'd tuck Michael in and try to sing him to sleep. 

Michael would beg his father to let him sleep upstairs with no restraints, but he would further guilt Michael into staying in the basement. 

Michael was conflicted on whether his father loved him or not, sometimes he'd show affection towards him, but other times, he'd be completely dismissive and cold. 

So when his father came down that night to start the experiments, he finally asked the question..."Father? Do you love me? Really love me, as a son, and not a creation?" He fiddled with his sleeves, awaiting his father's answers.

"Of course Michael, of course...I could never not love you," Michael nibbled his lip, not sure if his father was telling the truth or not. 

His father studied his face, "I can tell you still don't understand your fate Michael, you're destined for big things, it just requires a bit of unfamiliarity for a while, and I know you're struggling, but you're already making great progress, it's perfect, and soon...everything will be in place," 

He put a hand on Michael's shoulder, Michael nuzzled his face into his father's shirt, "Michael, it's time, let's begin," he lifted Michael's head to look at him, the 11 year old sniffled and shuffled a sneaker, wiping his eyes on his red Foxy the Pirate shirt. 

His father turned the valve and the purple smoke began flooding in, Michael coughed and covered his mouth, it was strong tonight, and the hallucinations were strong too... he saw Foxette (Mangle) mangled and broken and torn, she opened her mouth, showing sharpened teeth, and let out a bellowing laugh that hurt his ears. 

He grabbed his father's sleeve, whining and shrieking in fright. Foxy peered at him from under the bed, he heard his golden earrings jingling loudly, everything vivid despite not being real, he had envisioned them earlier, but they felt more real now.

He heard them all laughing at him from just beyond, he clutched his Foxy plushie tight against his chest.

Michael hyperventilated, chest heaving hard, eyes bloodshot, body trembling as he tried to calm himself. 

His father took notes on a piece of paper, muttering to himself "Boy seems to have increased delusions, reacts to them as if they were physically there," 

Michael was not sure his father would ever stop this madness...and he wasn't sure how to feel. 

"Tell me what you see and hear, Michael, I need to record this carefully," his father said, holding his pencil tight in his right hand.

"I can see...Foxy, he's torn up and mean looking, so are the others...Foxette, Freddy, Bonnie, Chica...I'm scared dad..." Michael bawled.

But his father droaned on "The boy seems to experience delusions of the animatronics at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, perhaps I have shown him too much of my creations," Michael whimpered, begging his father to comfort him. 

"Not now Michael, we're not done yet, when it's over, I'll comfort you," His father scolded.

"I can hear Foxy breathing, and his earrings jingling, he's humming...The others are laughing at me..They won't leave me alone!" Michael shouted, holding his hair tightly in his hands. 

"Hears Foxy breathing; humming, describes that the other animatronics are mocking him, needs more time to process the gas, will check back in later,"

Michael gasped, holding both hands over his mouth, his father was going to leave him here alone? 

"Be good sport, stay and take this walkie talkie, describe everything you can to me every 30 minutes, I'll be close by, promise...This is for your own good Michael, you need to realize this is how it is."

As his father left, Michael was sitting alone again, sat cross legged in the dark, crying and bawling for his father, he heard the click of the lock, and he was by himself again.