"L-Lemme go!" C.C. wailed, flailing around helplessly in the arms of his brother's friends. "I d-don't wanna g-go!"

"I don't give a shit, brat!" Michael hissed through the parted jaws of his terrifying Foxy mask. "We've had this planned for weeks; a little kid like ya ain't gonna do nothin' to ruin it for us!"

The horrible cackling of Michael's friends rang in C.C.'s ears, and he struggled again.

"Hold still!" Mark - or whatever his name was, C.C. didn't care to know - or, the one with the violet-indigo bunny mask, snapped at him. "Mikey! He's moving too much!"

"Weaklin'!" Michael clocked the Bonnie-masked bully over the back of the head. "Can't even hold a 7-year old? How sad!"

"Whatever!" the Bonnie-masked tormentor barked. "¡Eres más débil!"

"Idiots, both of you!" the Chica-masked bully stormed. "Just put 'im in 'is mouth!"

"N-No, p-please!" C.C. screamed and begged, to the amusement of the bullies. 

Tan, strong hands grabbed C.C., joining the dark-skinned hands of the Bonnie-masked bully.

"Better?" Michael mocked the other bully.

"Shut up!" the bully sniped back. "You'd have trouble too! He's full of birthday cake!"

"You're just weak!" Michael laughed, earning a shove from the Bonnie-masked bully.

"Careful! It's the brat's head in Fredbear's mouth, not his!" the Freddy-masked bully gasped.

"¡Él está bien!" the Bonnie bully hissed. "¡No seas un bebé, Freds!"

"Shut it, lads!" Michael stomped his foot on the carpeted floor of the pizzeria. "An' just follow me!"

He disregarded the bright yellow tape lining the edge of the stage, and the droned-out warnings of the nearby guards, and climbed onto it with his little, shrieking brother in his hands.

"Bons!" he called. "On 3! 1, 2..."

"Foxybro!" the Freddy-bully cried from slightly off the stage. "It's the other brat!"

"Shit!"

"Put him down!"

C.C.'s orange-haired savior leapt in the way, pulling C.C. away by the ankles.

The only problem was she used the Foxy-masked brother as a launchpad.

C.C. fell to the ground with a thump, staring up at the tall golden bear.

"Shit!" Michael cried, Fredbear's mouth in second position and closed just enough to trap his head between the jaws. "Ya brat! Lads, get me outta-"

CRACK.

Everything went silent for a long time.

The cackling of the other bullies had died down, C.C.'s wailing had cut off, Pigtail-Girl's demands silenced, and frankly, it seemed like the crack had sent out a wave of silence throughout the whole pizzeria, onlookers now paralyzed with fear.

Fredbear's mouth opened to first position, letting Michael's head go, allowing his body to fall to the floor limply.

Then, panic ensued.

"Holy shit!" Mark was the first to break the silence. "Mikey!"

"Fuck!" Chicabro gasped, mortified, as the Freddy-bully said nothing, just screamed blue murder.

C.C. started to screech when his heterochromic eyes travelled down to his brother.

His big blue eyes were wide open in terror, his lips were parted in a scream cut short, and blood leaked down from his forehead. The blood leaked out of a fine-sized hole in his head, exposing more crimson liquid, shredded light-pink brain matter, and a shattered white skull.

The small boy looked away from the sight, feeling bile rise in his throat.

Pigtail-Girl started to scream like a truck horn, as well as the onlookers in the pizzeria, young children starting to wail and cry while adults shielded their eyes and started to shout at the Pigtail-Girl.

He heard thumping of feet and turned to see the Freddy-bully and Chica-bully hightailing it out of there, leaving the Bonnie-masked bully standing there in horror, alone.

Michael's Foxy mask now laid next to Fredbear, bloody and cracked across the face. 

"¡Ay dios mío!" the Bonnie-masked bully screeched.

"I-I-I-" Tears budded in the bright green eyes of Pigtail-Girl as she slowly backed away from the bloody corpse. "I-I di-didn't-"

"Murderer!" one of the adults in the crowd shouted at Pigtail-Girl.

"N-No! I-I-I-" Pigtail-Girl gasped. "I-I-I di-did-didn't-"

"Mikey!" the Bonnie-mask bully sobbed, dropping to his knees as his trembling legs could no longer support his body. 

He didn't look at Michael's body, just sobbed onto the confetti-ridden stage.

C.C. inched back from his big brother's body, panting shallowly.

"What-"

C.C. recognized that voice.

He whipped his head around to see his father shoving forth onto the stage to set his eyes on the scene.

Everyone screaming and crying, Mark dropped on his knees to the floor, sobbing, Pigtail-Girl backing away with blood splattered on her face, and C.C. inching away from Michael on his rump, his knees covered in blood.

It took him a moment, but when the scene finally came into focus, he gasped.

"Michael!"

He ran over to his son.

C.C., despite everything, was kind of shocked at the emotion his father displayed and the care he seemed to have for his eldest son.

He'd never shown that kind of care when he was tormenting C.C., nor when Elizabeth went missing a week ago.

Quickly, he had called the police, and sirens filled the air as red and blue lights illuminated the darkening-sky.

The police asked what happened, which forced Pigtail-Girl to shakily tell them what she had done.

The paramedics that came seemed to, at one glance to the bitten body of Michael Afton, know that there was no hope for the 15-year old, but proceeded to check for a pulse and quickly carry him away.

William and C.C. were given the most consolation the police could give without flat-out lying, saying, "He's... He's going to receive the best care."

But C.C. felt in his gut that that was the last image of his older brother he'd ever see when he thought of him.

His eyes frozen open, blood leaking down his tanned skin, his lips slightly open, his hair a mussed mess due to the gaping hole in his head.

And C.C. knew better than to think that Michael was ever going to come home.

But that didn't stop him from hoping and praying that his older brother would return, someday...