I slowly began to push open the door to her bedroom. I tried to do it as softly as possible, hoping that the normal creaks of the hinges wouldn’t happen: I didn’t want her to be aware of my presence. Ever since everyone left, she had been spending lots of time with Meisberger in there, and I was going to finally see what they were up to.

“Don’t be scared of this,” a man’s voice said. “It is natural to feel fear when looking upon them, but their intent is not to hurt you. Not as long as you pledge servitude to them.” Confused, I tried to push the door open further, to get a glimpse of what was happening.

“I’m not scared. I feel no fear of them. I pledge my servitude until my dying breath,” a woman’s voice answered. Although she said she was not afraid, I could sense the terror in her words, smell the sweat coming off of her. She was my mother, but not in that moment. In that moment, she had reverted to everyone’s inner child, unable to comprehend the monster in the closet not existing. She was a perfect mirror of my inner emotions in that moment. I believe it is the last time we connected on such a level.

“Hold out your hand, please. You must give to them your blood, and in return, you will achieve a holier place than any of those bastardized deserters,” the man said. Hearing him speak the words of my mother being hurt, I flung the door open, bursting into the room. There, on the bed, were Meisberger and my mother, looking puzzled in my direction.

“Honey? Didn’t I tell you to stay in your room?” my mother asked me, a rage slowly dawning on her seemingly ageless face. I believe she looked younger. Perhaps the fear had energized her.

“I heard what he said! He was going to hurt you!” I yelled, knowing what was coming. It didn’t matter what my intentions had been bursting in. I had disobeyed her. I would be punished. It was how this went, at least since the desertion. I knew the drill well enough to already tense up when she rose from the bed. However, Meisberger put his hand on her arm.

“Do not strike in anger, my child. The boy was only looking to protect his mother from what he thought was a threat. Sit back down,” he commanded. Silently, she obeyed. The minister rose, his black attire creating a menacing shroud that froze me in place. I wanted to run from him. My feet wouldn’t let me.

“My young boy,” he said, approaching me, “Do you not know manners? It is polite to knock first, you see. And eavesdropping, well, that is a truly awful display towards a guest, isn’t it? A guest who has come here in the sole hope of securing your family’s safety? Isn’t that why you came in, my boy? To protect her? I know it is, yes, I know. I can it in your eyes. You were scared of what I might be doing to her. Fear not, young man. I am only hear to help. I will start by helping you, now. It seems you need it more than your whore of a mother.”

I didn’t know what he meant when he called my mother a whore, but he quickly lunged at me, giving me no time to think about it. He grabbed both my arms and shoved me out the door. I went flailing backwards as he kept advancing, speaking some language I had not heard. I tried crawling away, but his foot came down on my spine. I screamed out in pain. He began to drag me towards the kitchen.

“Your eavesdropping has greatly angered me, my child. Do not worry, though, for I will prevent you from angering me further: oh yes, I will make sure you remain docile, to keep you and your mother safe. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Meisberger, cackling, asked me. I did not know what he intended to do, but I tried to fight it. I batted at his hands with my small arms, dug my nails into him. When I drew blood, I heard a screech come from outside. It didn’t sound like anything human, or animal. It did not sound like something anything alive could have produced. In response to the screech, he threw me headfirst into a cabinet.

My vision instantly faded into nothing. Consciousness came in small, inconcise bursts. I saw Meisberger standing above me with a knife, grinning ear to ear. My mother wasn’t anywhere around. As my sight faded, he bent towards me. There was a brief moment of pain, and a wet trickle began pouring down the side of my head. I lost all feeling after that. The next time I came back, Meisberger was looking out of the kitchen, towards the front of the house. It looked like he was shouting at something, but I knew at least that it was not my mother. She was now standing behind him, cowering in fear. I did not know what he was shouting at, but the house suddenly shook. I heard nothing. I noticed the wet trickle was on both sides of my head now. I went back under.

***

When I woke up, I saw my mother leaving a note at my feet. I was still in the kitchen. I was bathed in a pool of sticky, red, viscous fluid. I did not hear a sound throughout the entire house. Confused, I asked her what happened. She pointed at the note and walked out of the room.

>You have been out for twenty-six hours now. Both your ears were cut off. Dinner will be made as soon as you clean this room.

>-Mother

I slowly raised my hands up to the sides of my head, already knowing what I would find. Where my ears had once been was now a vacant space, nothing tangible to occupy the reality that had once been my necessary aid to communicating. I cried for thirteen minutes after that. I saw a clock which told me the exact time. Resigned to this new life, I cleaned up my blood after that. I was hungry, after all. I was deaf already: starving felt like too much torture to stack on top of that.

My mother came in shortly after I was done, ignoring me completely as she set about preparing food. I quickly realized that she would not pay any attention to me and so I walked out and towards her room. I saw that there was a small pool of blood at the foot of her bed. I had not thought to look at her hand, but it seemed like she had given Meisberger the blood sacrifice after all. I was not surprised. He seemed to have a way of getting what he wanted. Hadn’t I learned that the hard way?

I was going to leave her room when the pool of blood began shifting. Slowly, it swirled into the form of a young girl. She looked to have just finished crying. I had the sense that she could see me. I waved at her, but she only gazed at me, puzzled. I didn't think much of it. I left the room.

Dinner that night was bland. My mother set a plate of potatoes down in front of me and never looked up from her own food. I noticed the cut on her right hand this time. It was inflamed, scabbed over. A slight ooze leaked out from the bottom of the incision. I watched in disgust as some of it fell on to her food. She either didn’t care or didn’t notice, and she ate it. She wouldn’t even grimace at the taste. She just kept eating. When she was done, she threw the plate into the sink. I couldn’t hear anything, but I did see shards of ceramic fly into the air. She paid no mind to this. She walked over to where I had left the note before, picking it up and gazing down at it. She pulled a pencil out of her right pocket. She scribbled a small not at the bottom and left the room.

>I’ll give you thirteen days to leave the house. If you don’t, you’ll die.

>-Mother

Barely having finished reading the note, the writing at the bottom changed.

>I had a dream about you. It wasn’t a good one. Please leave wherever you are. You’re so young… you don’t deserve to die the way you’re going to. Even if you don’t have ears anymore, I can help you live a good life! Come find me in Maryland.

>-Samantha

I blinked and it was gone. I shrugged. Nothing was connecting inside my head anymore. I went to bed that night with wet eyes from the crying. I dreamt of awful things. I saw large animatronics with blood dripping from their mouths, unceasingly stalking their human prey. I saw two young people cowering inside a barely closed office, watching a large shadow slowly creep by the door. I saw a young girl screaming out in her sleep. I saw a wall, painted purple, slowly collapse. The worst part was the end. Freddy Fazbear. I knew him well. I once thought I saw him walking through the town the day after everyone else left Centralia. My mother told me I hadn’t but I never really believed her. He was in my dream now. This time, however, he was covered in thick red tendrils. He stared into me. I think he saw everything about me. Even though I no longer had ears, I heard him tell me I was going to die. I knew he was right.

***

It has now been thirteen days since I originally read my mother’s note. I have heard Samantha speaking to me over the last couple of days. She tells me I’m very mature for a thirteen year old. I don’t know how old she is. She has nightmares like I have been having. She sees the same things as me. The one main difference between me and her is that after today she will be alive and I will not.

She can hear everything happening around me. She tells me Centralia is constantly filled with the sounds of screeching metal. She tells me Meisberger starts yelling things in another language every day at noon. Apparently my mother cries a lot. She has not come out of her room once since she left the dinner table, but Samantha still hears Meisberger talking to her at nights. She tells me that Chica and Bonnie and rest of the gang are all in there with them. She told me they plan to rip me to shreds and scatter me throughout the house. They want to redecorate: paint everything red, they say. I say let them. I have lost the will to remain alive. I have lost the will to go through this twenty-six hour cycle I’m stuck in: that is how long days last, right? I remembered them being shorter before everyone left, but now, time seems to operate differently. Samantha tells me I’m hallucinating because of the carbon I’m breathing in. I tell her she doesn’t know that. She sighs and tells me to lie down. She’s crying now, but she says it will all be over soon. She says they’re coming to my door now. I see the knob turning. I see metal behind the crack widening between me and my demise. I see my death approaching, and I have no fear.

Unlike my mother, I will stay strong.

I hope the next person to visit this house likes the colors I [leave.](https://www.reddit.com/r/26FrightsOfFreddy/)