William's father had once been kind and caring. But one day, he came home in a fury — angry about what seemed like nothing. William never understood why. All he knew was that his father took it out on him and his mother, day after day, for nearly a year. After his latest outburst, William bolted into his room and locked the door. His father slammed his fists against it, shouting, "OPEN THIS DOOR, WILLIAM!"
William curled up on his bed, lying on his side with his knees pulled to his chest. As soon as he folded into himself, the emotional pain hit him — sharp and heavy — followed by tears. Thoughts flooded his mind: Is it my fault he's like this? Does he hate me? Am I really that bad of a kid?
Then his father spoke again through the door, his voice low and threatening. "You have to come out of that room at some point — and when you do, I'm going to teach you a lesson about respect."
His footsteps receded. The words sent the same crushing thoughts spiraling through William's mind, and he cried until exhaustion finally dragged him into sleep.
He woke the next morning with sunlight spilling across his face. For a moment, he simply hoped that his father was at work — maybe then he could go to school without fresh bruises for once.
Rage flickered inside him, sudden and sharp, and he punched the wall. As he did, something strange seemed to spark inside his mind, like a new presence forming. The pain in his knuckles followed a moment later. He shook his hand, trying to ignore it, and stepped out of his room.
Thankfully, his father was gone, and William managed to leave for school without seeing him.
"I wasn't existing a moment ago," a voice whispered from somewhere deep within William's mind, "and now suddenly I do. And the one thing I feel is rage — pure, sharp rage."
The entity laughed, a low, malicious sound. "I want more of these feelings. No... I need more."
One night, while the entity controlled William's body, it heard something: crying. "Oh... music to my ears," it thought as it followed the sound. It found William's father alone, hunched over a desk, mumbling through tears. He was writing something on a piece of paper.
When he finished, a gunshot cracked through the house.
The entity frowned, disappointed. It had wanted to be the one to end him.
But now it had an entirely different opportunity.
William woke to the sight of his father lying on the floor, blood pooling from the left side of his head.
"Father!" he screamed. He hadn't loved his father much this past year, but he was still his father. William stumbled to the body. "Father! FATHER!" He shook him, but there was no response — only the cold stillness of death.
Then William noticed the paper on the desk, stained with blood and a single tear. He picked it up and read:
"Clara — at least, I'm hoping Clara found this note first.
I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, but my mind has been... scrambled ever since I fell off that ladder at work. I don't know why I'm doing these things. All I know is that the only way to stop myself is to... well, you already know what I've done by the time you're reading this."
But know this: I love both of you. And if it is William reading this — I love you, son. Please never doubt that. I'm sorry for hurting you. That's why I'm doing this. I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have, and I can feel my mind slipping further every day.
Goodbye, Clara. And goodbye, William. Again, I love you both. I'm so, so sorry.
Your father and husband,
Vlad Afton"
William's vision blurred as fresh sobs tore out of him.
"Vlad!" his mother screamed from the hallway. She rushed toward the body, a shotgun in her hands. William looked up at her through tears.
She took in the scene and pieced together what had happened. "William..." she whispered. She knelt beside him and set the gun aside.
William couldn't speak. He simply lowered his head. Moments passed in heavy silence before he felt her arms wrap around him.
"It's going to be okay, William," she murmured, holding him close. "It's going to be okay."
His mother had always been strong when it came to emotions.
"It's going to be okay..." she repeated, soft and steady.
William finally calmed enough to breathe. "I... I believe you, Mother," he said, leaning into her embrace.