Chapitre 12: Chapter ???: Henry
Henry couldn't wait. He couldn't believe it. He was having a horrible day so far, and now he had not only got to talk to Chica personally, but she was going to show him something amazing! She was his favorite character, she had the best jokes in the show and always knew better than everybody else. As the door closed behind Henry, the room seemed darker. Without saying anything, Chica went over to what seemed to be a robot Freddy. She began messing with the inside, and sure enough, Toreador March began playing through a small little box. She then proceeded behind Henry, but he wasn't paying attention. He was too busy enjoying the wonderful music. After a while, Chica was still quiet when…
Henry felt a tug. It was Chica, her eyes seemed… off. They were sad, but then became somewhat assured. Determined, but Henry was not sure of what. "Is something wrong?" Henry asked. "Are you okay?"
Chica did not respond. Gently, she took Henry's hand and they made their way out of the room. As they did, there was a little voice coming from Chica. It wasn't hers, it was boys. It was raspy, and made Henry feel uneasy.
"What are you doing?" It asked.
"Turn around." It ordered.
Henry kept quiet. Chica did not respond to the voice either, however, it was obvious she could indeed hear it. It stopped when they got out of the room. Henry didn't bring it up when Chica told him to go sit down. He did just that, still satisfied, but a bit distracted now.
Henry barely paid attention to the show from there. He had bought some food with the money he had left, but still wasn't that interested. There was something nagging at him. Something in him was trying to tell him something. He had this urge to leave all of a sudden. He-
"Mommy, what's wrong with Chica?"
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In the shadow of the metal, under the yellow veil, surely Henry would be safe. He could wait it out. He could wait this out. He could... something was wrong...
Henry felt a tug. Chica was right outside the curtain, and now Henry could see she had grabbed his leg, and begun squeezing so hard, he had already begun to bleed as Henry stared horrified in his killer's metallic eyes. "W-wait, please! Don't! I didn't do anything! Please, stop! Just..." Henry was panicking. He was trying to negotiate somehow. But he knew better. Deep down, he knew. This was his end, and he wouldn't even get to see it as a thrusting white arm connected, hitting him in the head.
It didn't take too long for Henry to wake up, thanks to a scream all too familiar. It was the girl from before. He hadn't even learned her name, and yet he knew her voice. Henry realized he was in some sort of suit, his head covered by a mask. For a little bit, Henry was in a silenced daze. He was so confused, so dizzy, that he didn't move for some time. Not staring at anything in particular, just starring everywhere. That is until something snapped Henry back into his senses. Henry saw his captor standing before the suit, looking straight at it, as if staring at Henry. He began to breathe through his nose to try and keep himself hidden, if he actually was. But all the same, his breathing increased in speed, his chest going in and out faster and faster. He was panicking. Panicking until…
Until Chica was gone. She had begun walking away, out of Henry's sight. Henry relaxed. He was safe, for now, but now he had to find a way out of this suit. "How do you get this thing off?" He whispered to himself, spitting a bit. Then, the metal around him seemed to cry out. Around his legs, his arms, even his head. His… head?
The head was not like a regular mask. It wasn't made of just fabric, but for some reason, it had metal parts insi-. That's as far as he got in his thoughts before something unexpected happened. The mask made a snapping sound, and immediately his poor young head was crushed between the pressure of the machine, as it spiraled into a sequence of metal stabbing and impaling. He jerked and convulsed, in sync with the suit, what was left of his tilted to the left. Finally finishing the job, a small little music box broke through his back, and impaled a part of his body, beginning to play an old tune that he, at one point, took comfort in. Now, it seemed the last thing the boy would do…
Was yell in pain to the melody.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone