V is for Visionary

Darkness...

Nothingness...

Black?

Maybe...

White?

“Lukas, please. Wake up.”

A woman’s voice?

My wife?

My mom?

No!

 

A vivid vision came into view. Unlike the rest of my terrifying visions this one was actually a memory from when I was kid. It was the whole reason I was now in the coma.

The spray bottle in my hand rocked back and forth as I looked over the Pirate Cove. I had to clean this entire exhibit by myself. Glad they had even hired someone my age, so I got to work immediately.

I started with Foxy, every inch of his crimson face was thoroughly cleaned by my rag and spray bottle. The part I hated came next. I pried open his mouth started wiping down his teeth.

Slowly, I reached the back and scrubbed his metallic throat. Like it always happened in these dreams, Foxy bit down quickly, only allowing me to pull out my arm and part of my head. Unlucky, I wasn’t able to get my whole head out so the jaw fell on my head, stabbing deep into the back, and ripping off a large portion of the front of my head.

I was instantly cast into darkness as my eyes stopped working all together. All I could feel was pain. My entire head felt as if was stuffed into a wood chipper, which wasn’t too far off.

 

I’ve only felt visions and my bed since then.

Not again!

I felt the pull.

I was going.

 

My host looked up onto a choir of young children, 13 on either side for a total of 26. Their monotone voice joined together in a strange, ancient-sounding language to sing a just as ancient-sounding song. All of the children were at least slightly deformed, some with missing ears, some with missing noses, some wore bandages and eye patches, and some even had large scars that covered their entire face.

I was suspended on an inverse pentagon hoisted up on some kind of stage. The only thing else on the stage was a single pedestal with a golf-ball sized, black pearl resting on top. Written in stale blood all along the pedestal and stage were strange symbols and words.

Slowly the choir split creating a path directly down the middle. Through the throng of singers rose a man adorned in black burial wrappings like a burqa; the only part of him visible was his eyes which peeked out between the bandage-like cloths. Draped on his head was red yarn that wrapped to form a red “A”.

He reached out his hands as a small boy from the choir unrapped a silk cloth, revealing a curved dagger, already bloody from its last victim. Slowly the specter raised the dagger preparing for the final blow. Swiftly and accurately he struck down onto my shoulder like a sick parody of knighting, popping it out of socket; a painful blow, but not deadly.

He reeled back again and struck my other shoulder creating the same response. After my shoulder blades, he moved onto my knees slashing into my ligaments and nerves.

*Slash*

*Slash*

*Slash*

26 times he cut into my flesh in a ritualistic execution.

Finally after I'd endured several stab wounds, he aimed once more and stabbed straight through my heart.

 

I was gone again.

I always hated these visions.

Were they dreams?

Why couldn’t I just watch someone fishing?

Always a vision from those dying or dead.

Maybe it was like the comics.

 

The hero always gets a power based on personality.

Maybe my personality was murderous.

That thought scared me more than my visions.

I was being drained away again.

Teleported into the mind of some poor soul.

Broken and killed.

 

I was in a trashed house, if you could call it a house. I looked around the crummy excuse for a house. Over the old, broken, fireplace mantel hung a wooden sign that read “home, sweet, Portsmouth.” A man, maybe a priest, stood in the corner with a frayed piece of rope in his hand.

“Don’t worry, my sheep, you have made a worthy sacrifice.” He said as he turned around to open the door. My host let out a muffled yell revealing our gagged state, and seeing that I had stayed with my back against the wall I could only assume I had also been bound by the same rope the priest held. The priest paused for a second at our strangled scream, but quickly he was back to his path out the door. As he slammed the door behind him, all I could hear was his low, droning whistle as he continued down the stairs.

A low, metallic hum rang out sending a shiver down my spine. I could barely hear it, and if any other noises had been present I would have missed it. It was completely flooding my senses.

A metal bird suit, much like all those from so long ago, glitched down the stairs in a disorderly walk, followed by a faceless malformed rabbit. Stumbling down on the last step, they each stood there with a dead stare on their faces. It was during this moment of fear that my host looked to their left, and I realized there was a second sacrifice.

She was a younger, dirty-blonde woman, probably in her twenties. Even though she was unconscious, tears still streamed down her freckled face. She had a small dribble of blood from the back of her head, and a small stain had started to form on the wall behind her.

I turned back to face the mechanical monstrosities, which stood staring in utter silence. Remaining completely quiet, the bird (Chica?) slowly marched towards me. Its beak opened up and it let out a low, clucking noise, causing me to long for my impending death.

The robotic chicken dropped its jaw and drove its dull metal teeth into my chest, shoulder and armpit. I was immune to the pain, but like my other visions I knew I was going to die soon. I started phasing in and out of consciousness.

In the final moments I saw them both running towards the other victim, but some black blob then stopped their charge.

 

Black.

I had been pulled out again.

Incessant beeping

Heart monitor?

Hospital?

Lab?

 

Here

I

Go

Again.

I was underwater. The ocean. Bubbles funneled up, but none from my host’s mouth. My vision became blurred, as the water clouded my eyes. A strand of red yarn floated up ahead of my vision, as I felt myself thrashing desperately as though drowning. I could feel strong arms wrapped firmly around my neck, and a voice, almost like a mermaid's:

"I win."

This vision lasted a shorter time than most, and I could already feel the pull back to the darkness. For some odd reason, I felt inhuman in that one. Something was telling me I was something else, something strange.

I was already back surrounded by the darkness.

 

A piercing light...

The sound of footsteps...

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” The man said in a garbled, faraway voice as he stood towering over me. His face was covered by a white mask and purple trails came from his hollow black eyes. His entire body was covered by a purple suit… no… it was a blurry aubergine silhouette, looking as if he was made of television static. Only the smiling mask remained clear and lucid.

Slowly he raised his hand revealing a pistol, glistening in the sun, before bringing it down upon my head again and again. His purple hands wrapped around the pistol’s handle pushing the black barrel against my forehead. He was terrifying, and even though my host stayed calm I could feel his fear and nervousness in the pit of my stomach.

“A-a-animus will stop you!” my host said as he spit blood onto the purple man’s feet.

“Animus is dying, and when it dies I’ll still be here” he said pushing the barrel harder against my head and wiping the blood off his shoe. “I only have 5 shots left.” he said, “So one of them must have your name on it.”

“I can, um, tell you about your father.” I said revealing my nervousness,”You would like that wouldn’t you little Michael?” I raised my hand to his trying to get him to back down.

“I...am...not...a...slave anymore!” He said knocking back my hand, “You are going to die, Father, just know Michael sent you to hell.”

A flash of light and a boom of sound filled my mind and my host let out a yelp, clutching at his bleeding gut. In my last thoughts, I saw him walk away while another, younger man nodded his head at some unseen entities. Immediately I felt myself being torn apart and gnawed at by two black robotic beasts.

What a way to die.

 

I felt the pull back into my comatose body.

Michael...

That name filled my head.

He felt...special, something new.

He was something.

I hated this.

Stuck experiencing death.

Also stuck on the edge of life.

I felt thousands of deaths a minute.

 

Now here I go back for a new time.

A crowd of scientists in a hidden laboratory. At least, most of them are. Near the doors are a few armed guards, each wearing indigo polos and white khakis wielding M4s. There was a knock at the door and one of the guards answered.

A man in a courier jacket with rough black hair was holding a clipboard and a cardboard box, handing them off to the confused guard. As the guard bent down to sign, the man pulled out a pistol and shot the guard in the temple, alerting everyone else in the room as he seamlessly delivered headshot after headshot with brutal efficiency. Soon, he had us all lined up against the walls and was shooting us one by one.

 

The scene changed once again.

I stood in an ocean of people, but not every person there was a person. Among the crowd towered giant animals and beasts with glowing eyes. Some I had seen in other visions, but others were new to me. In between these creatures and the humans, I could see flipped tables and chairs.

In front of the crowd stood two people on a stage, a man and a young girl, but they were too far away to distinguish any features. They stood like judges that looked down on the rest of the mob at their feet.

Behind them on the stage wall were several signs, one for some kind of pizza buffet, one for something about a bear I couldn’t read, and in the very middle a large circular logo with lines that all pointed towards the top middle. They all were very strange and hard to read, but judging from the decor and signs I was in a fast food restaurant, or at least a canteen that resembled one. For some reason being in a private food court surrounded by giant, human-like carnivores was very nerve-wracking.

All of a sudden the room became quiet, and all that could be heard was the faint whirring of machines. The girl held up a microphone sending a buzz through the room. She lowered her mouth to the microphone and whispered, “Kill. Each other.”

As soon as she said those words, the room exploded into chaos. Humans fighting robots fighting robots fighting humans fighting humans. The ultimate, violent free-for-all.

Soon after the chaos started, I could see the fingers of a metal hand wrapping around my face. All of a sudden, the hand jerked sending me swinging to the left, and with one swift hook to the brain, I had been thrown out of the vision. The whole world swirled into the black.

 

I felt the warm embrace of my sheets again.

I was free.

I was safe.

For now.

But not for long.

 

It was happening again.

My large, yellow, tattered hand reached out in front of me as I crawled through the molten vent. Each time I set my hand down, I could see the smoke rise from my matted fur. Maybe this time I would just burn to death instead of being brutally murdered.

I soon gave up hope for a simple death as I made it to an open vent for my escape from the fire. I slammed my large, inhuman paws against the metal grate trying to get it to open, applying my full strength into slamming open my escape. Soon the grate fell open, crashing to ground with a loud clang.

I fell headfirst to the ground and smacked into it with a metallic thud. A large crack formed across my vision and a loud beeping started in my head. Slowly I started regaining my composure and started rising from the ground trying to escape the flames, but as I finally stood up, a metal beam flew through the air and struck me in the chest knocking me back.

I turned to face my attacker. A large black bear with a red top hat, stood in front of me holding the wire frame head of another bear under his arm. In his other hand was a white bone-like thing that I somehow recognized as a splintered arm that had been torn from me just before. Why are there so many bears?!? The bear slowly grabbed the head with his left and reeled it back.

I tried to brace myself, but before I could, the bear threw the head hitting me directly in the face. I stepped back, stunned by the sudden impact, and the entire right side of my vision cut out only leaving a cracked left eye remaining. I turned back just in time to see the bear flying through the air to thrust his shiv up my body. Again and again it stabbed me in various places, before winding up for a final strike, driving it straight into my temple before proceeding to kick me into the flames.

I stumbled back into the fire and tripped on the same metal bar thrown at me a few moments ago, falling back onto a support beam sticking out of ground that went straight through my chest. I looked down on the beam it was covered in both oil and old, human blood.

Slowly I tried to rise, but the metal spike in my chest held me still. My vision that remained was soon consumed in the inferno. My glass eye was soon shattered by the heat, but I could still hear the sounds of burning metal and fur for a few minutes afterwards.

I knew it.

I couldn’t just burn to death.

It had to be a brutal murder.

 

But now I was back at least.

Back at my bed.

Might as well hope for the best next time.

I knew the end would never come; I would experience these dreams forever. I just hope next time it won’t be a murder.

I felt something,

Something not from a dream.

Something real.

A hand pressed down onto my chest pushing my raven necklace into my heart.

A voice broke the silence.

The voice.

Michael.

“Show me the death.” He said calmly.

“The death of [Animus](/r/26FrightsOfFreddy/).”