Chapter Text
"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, put your hands together for the one --- the ONLY --- Freddy Fazbear!”
In the corner of the room, the dinky little television box suddenly lit up with bright purple colors, neon blues and hot pinks radiated from the box as it displayed four full sized characters posing together! It was hard to get an exact look at them from a distance, but Mike recognized the mascot characters immediately. They were those fancy new “Glamrock” animatronics; a robotic cartoon band made up of four “animal” characters, dressed up like a rock band from the 1980’s. Mike couldn’t remember the names, but he recognized the animals well; a wolf, a gator, a chicken, and of course, the bear. Freddy Fazbear. That one he remembered, after all, he was the one with his name all over the advertising.
The commercial was a spectacle. After showing off the main four characters, it immediately cut to the real subject that was being advertised… The Freddy Fazbear Mega Pizza Plex. It was an industrial sized “entertainment center”, almost a literal theme park packed into an entire mall; three stories tall, over hundreds of rooms filled to the brim with arcades, rides, games and endless amounts of restaurants. It’s practically the closest thing that the state of Utah has to its own little Disney World. As the screen displayed its various hallways and play areas filled to the brim with children, Mike couldn’t help but shutter at the thought of how much screaming and crying would be echoing through that place on a daily basis.
“Come on down to one of the most glamorous entertainment centers in the world! Pizza! Games! Fitness! Racecars! Laser Blasts! You name it, the Mega Pizza Plex has it! And last but not least, enjoy the company of the most rocking band this side of Utah!---“Montgomery Gator! Roxanne Wolf! Glamrock Chica, and Freddy Fazbear!”
‘Ah, right. That’s their names.’ Mike rolled his eyes. As the four mascots appeared on the screen again, playing and interacting with the various guests, Mike had to admit to his annoyance just how--- life like the characters were. At least at this distance. They sure weren’t like the clunkers he grew up with in the older location. No. These were fluid, quick moving, flexible. Had Mike not known any better he would’ve thought they were performers in costumes. But apparently, these guys are the real deal.
‘Father would be proud.’ Mike sighed, deciding to tear his head away from the direction of the television and instead once again look around the room he’s been waiting in for the past forty minutes. There were only three other people in there with him, one woman and two men, all sitting separately and looking heavily invested in their magazines and their phones, not that Mike was one for conversation. Right now, all Mike can do as he waited for his name to be called was try to resist the urge to take out another stick of gum and toss it into his mouth. He damn near chewed through a whole pack today already, and he doesn't need to actually follow through with that possibility. Sigh, and then there was this damn tie.
As Mike decided, against his better judgment, to fumble with his tie again in order to try and make it feel less constricting --- he heard his name called out. “Michael Schmidt?...”
Mike looked up to see an older woman, wearing glasses and holding a clipboard in her hand with a general look of tiredness and apathy in her expression. Wordlessly, Mike got up, timidly slipping his hands into his pocket and walking over to the elderly woman. “Follow me,” the woman dryly commanded, and Mike did as such…
The man in the office was a kindly looking man, not much older than Mike himself was, admittedly. He was an Indian man with soft glasses and a friendly expression on his face. He stood up from his desk, which seemed to be covered to the brim with different folders and papers, and held out his hand. “Hello there, Michael, my name is Stephen Renfield. It’s nice to meet you.” Mike awkwardly took his hand and reciprocated the handshake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Renfield.” Mike then made his way over to the metal chair at the front of Renfields desk and had himself a seat. Mr. Renfield then took his own seat, moving aside some of the other files he had splayed out for his other clients and placing a new one right on top of the pile, fresh from his own desk. He then opened it up and began skimming through it.
“Now, let me make sure I have this right,” Mr. Renfield began his question without looking up. “You were looking for another night guard position, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Mike nodded, leaning over in his chair and interlocking his fingers together.
“I see you have some experience in that.”
“Yes, I do. I was, um, employed at a few bars and a few stores. This last one I had for the longest time, almost two years but, well, it closed about a year ago because of the pandemic… I’ve been making do with unemployment checks since then.” Mike squirmed a little bit in his uncomfortable chair. “And the odd delivery jobs here and there.”
“I hear that,” Renfield nodded, leaning back in his chair as he continued to read over Mike's papers. “Oh, and it says here you’re a native to Utah?”
“That I am.”
“Interesting,” Mr. Renfield continued nodding his head, though now with a somewhat confused expression on his face, just a slight furrow of his brow. For a brief moment he looked up from his files to make eye contact with Michael, as if he were trying to answer the question that was circling in his head just by simply looking at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude, I just noticed --- You have a rather strong English accent. I honestly expected you to be from overseas.”
Michael chuckled a little, nodding his head. “I get that a lot. My mother and father were from England --- they came to the states before I was born. I’ve never been, but that’s just how I learned the language.” Michael shrugged his shoulders, awkwardly reaching up his hand to scratch the back of his neck. This wasn’t a question that he wasn’t used to at this point, he had been asked it pretty much all of his life; however, considering this man potentially held his future career in his hands, he still couldn’t help but feel awkwardly aware of himself at this moment.
“Hmm, that makes sense,” Mr. Renfield nodded his head again, pursing his lip a bit before wordlessly looking back down at Michaels file and continuing to read again.
This was followed up by a sudden silence in the conversation as Renfield continued reading through the file, allowing Mike to sit in his chair and feel his body start to tense up a bit. He hoped that at any moment the man would suddenly speak up and lay out some sort of new proposition, some new job or career offer that he had lying around. Anything, even if it wasn’t a night shift job, Mike would take it. However, the longer they sat in silence, the more Mike began to notice some changes in Stephen's expression as he read through the file, followed by a few little “hmps” and “hmms”. Mike had a feeling he knew where this hesitation was coming from and he couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of panic creeping up in his chest. Without even realizing it, Mike brought his thumb up to his lips and began to absentmindedly chew on his fingernail, waiting for Mr. Renfield to say --- something. Anything.
And then suddenly, “Hm, alright, Mike, good news,” Renfield looked up from the file, closing it and discarding it with the others on top of his desk, with a smile forming on his face. “I’m going to make this a real quick and easy visit for you because I got just the thing!”
Mike felt the tension in his shoulders release and his body physically perk up. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting such an upbeat tone from him after the last minute of silence. He felt a palpable sense of relief throughout his body. “You have something?”
“Yep, I got the perfect thing for you!” Mr. Renfield crossed his arms together and leaned over his desk with a big smile across his face. “You know about that huge Freddy Fazbear’s joint, right? Well it just so happens, they are looking for a new security guard to watch over the mall at night!”
Mike could feel the smile instantly disappear from his face. “Ah.”
“Yeah! They just sent out an ad this morning, lucky you, huh? It’s just what you asked for!” Mr. Renfield then put up his fingers, one by one, emphasizing all the ‘Perks’ that he began listing off. “Nightshift, from 12a.m to 6a.m, just like you wanted. It’s Monday through Friday, and you’ll have Saturdays and Sundays off. Now I’ll admit, the pay isn’t amazing, but the job you’ll be doing I think you’ll do just fine.” Stephen nodded his head in an almost self-congratulatory way.
“Um, would there perhaps be anything else?”
Renfield held his smile for a second before it began to slowly falter and his eyes began to squint. He shook his head a little, like he legitimately couldn’t comprehend the question that was just thrown his way. “I’m sorry?... You don’t… You don’t want this job?”
Mike exhaled, leaning back into his metal chair, running his hands up from his thighs down to his knees, which he then grasped rather tightly. “Yeah, I have, um… I just don’t really care for…. That place.” Mike twitched a bit in his seat, not really having the courage to look Stephen in the eye at the current moment.
“Well… I’m sorry, Mike, but there’s not many other options for you, at the moment.” Mike then turned his attention back over to Mr. Renfield without saying anything, for he could guess what was coming next… The man sighed, leaning back into his chair and began rubbing the back of his neck. “Mr. Schmidt, I’m going to be frank with you… You’re not going to be picking up a lot of work, not with the record you have. Day or Night.” He then weakly gestured to Mikes file on the desk. Mike gritted his teeth a little bit, closing his eyes as he did. This was exactly what he was afraid of.
“You have to understand, most small businesses, like the ones you’ve worked at before, would probably be able to look past a few misdemeanors. But corporations and larger businesses? They aren’t going to be as polite, and in this current economy I don’t think I have to tell you that there aren’t a lot of small businesses thriving right now.” Mr. Renfield looked upon Mike with a stern look, putting his hands together, both of his thumbs pushing up against each other. “Fazbear Entertainment is the only corporation that isn’t currently restricting hirers based on previous criminal records.”
Mike turned away once again, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms defensively. Still, he couldn't help but let out a somewhat condescending chuckle, “With all due respect, Mr. Renfield, I don't think I can even qualify to be the only security guard at a place that big.”
“Well, that’s the thing, Mr. Schmidt.” Renfield leaned back over, putting his hands up to gesture the important information. “There’s not a whole lot that you would have to do. I’m not sure if you heard about this, but during the pandemic, Fazbear Entertainment layed off most of their night staff and replaced them with state-of-the- art staff bots, like the ones they have in Vegas.” The man couldn’t help but release a small chuckle. “Basically, they’ll be the ones keeping watch over the mall. Your job is to watch the security cameras, occasionally check the mall's perimeters and make sure that all the staff bots are doing their job. You’ll be making sure the clock is ticking.”
'Oh, yipee,' Mike thought as he continued to avoid Mr. Renfields gaze. He tilted head a bit and started absentmindedly looking outside of Mr. Renfields open door. Not really looking out into the hallway, just looking out the empty space, trying desperately to grasp for any other suggestion or idea. Or, God willing, waiting for Renfield to pull out another suggestion… but that never happened.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Schmidt, but if you’re looking for a job and want to start bringing in revenue again, right now, this is your only real option. And, I have to say, it’s a good one!” Mr. Renfield then reached back into his desk and shuffled around a bit, leaning back into his chair once again to get a good look at where he was searching. “This isn’t just a lifesaver you’re being tossed here, this is the equivalent of a cruise ship coming to save you from the middle of the ocean. It’s an easy job, with a regular good pay, and some benefits…” Mr. Renfield then pulled out a sheet of paper, tied to a paperclip, tossing through the various pages until he found what he was looking for. “And look, free pizza for a year, not counting drinks or other food expenses. Heh.”
He held up the piece of paper that stated as such, with a rather innocent smile on his face. Michael looked down at the floor, his hands rubbing against each other as his thoughts became a jumbled mess. He felt his heart rate increase, his face becoming a little hot and sweaty, and indignant anger building up in his chest. Just how could he explain this? How could he make Mr. Renfield understand just why this was such a bad idea? Mike didn’t know, he searched his mind and just couldn’t find any sort of way to justify his hesitation to Mr. Renfield without disclosing his past history with the franchise and… to be quite frank; that was not going to happen.
Oh, but even if he did, it didn’t even matter. Mr. Renfield is right. Mike doesn't have any options. Unemployment is going to end soon. Bills are going to keep coming in. Mike couldn’t wait for another opportunity to come his way, he literally could not afford to. Mike released a huge burst of air from his lungs as he sunk his face into the palms of his hands. ‘I gotta do this. This is the only way.’ He then slowly dragged his hands down his face and to his chin, until he sat himself back up and cleared his throat, and looked the concerned Mr. Renfield dead in the eye.
“When can I start?”
As Mike turned the keys to his apartment door, he could hear the baby down at room 224 begin to wail through the walls. Mike didn’t know why but almost every time he got back home, that damn baby knew it, and would throw the biggest bloody fit about it every single time. 'I’ve never even met the kid and he hates my guts,’ Mike smiled at his own inner joke, shaking his head lightly. And, at the other side of the complex he could hear the faint barking of Mrs. Fish’s chihuahua, likely in response to the crying baby on the other side of the building. So much for a quiet few more days until he became a working man again. Not that Mike minded the idea of work after all these months, but still, he savored those few moments where this apartment was just… silent.
Sighing as he pushed the door open, he laid eyes upon his modest looking apartment. It wasn’t honestly too bad; two bedrooms, kitchen and living room, bathroom. Standard stuff. However, it was extremely old… The carpet was stained, brown when it was probably once white, the walls were old and cracking at the edges, the windows were small and didn’t let in a whole lot of natural light. Look, beggars can’t be choosers, as long as there weren’t (anymore) roaches, Mike could make due.
Mike lackadaisy tossed his undone tie on the floor and his keys on the kitchen counter. “Hey, Max,” he greeted as he walked into the kitchen, without even looking at the direction of the person he was talking to.
“Hey.” Up from his couch, a brown haired teenager lazily sat up, phone in hand, eyes barely open. She threw her arm over the side of the furniture and plopped her chin down on her shoulder. “So… how’d it go?”
Mike exhaled another breath of air as he began rummaging through the refrigerator; he wanted to say the honest truth of the whole situation, but decided to try and keep his composure. “It went good, really good actually.” He then walked over to the table and leaned up against it. “In fact, I wanted to actually ask; would there be any way that you could do nights for me again?”
“Oh, yeah? When?”
“I start on Monday.” Mike then began to swig down the carton of milk as he leaned up against the table. ‘Better be sure to pick some more up later tomorrow,’ Mike made a mental note to himself.
“Hm. Yeah, sure, I can do that.” Max then daintily hopped up from the couch, walking back over towards the door, grabbing her sneakers and slipping them on as she looked over towards Mike, a coy smile on her face. “Think you’ll be able to start paying me again by then?”
Mike looked up from his carton of milk, a little bit of honest guilt becoming present in his expression. “Uh, yeah, of course… Sorry about that, again. I am going to pay you for today’s rate as well, of course.” Mike rubbed the back of his neck. Normally he would’ve been able to pay her on time like he used to, but the last of the previous unemployment check had to be dedicated to getting the piping in the kitchen sink fixed. Hopefully, it’ll stay fixed this time.
“I’m just messing with you, Mike, I’m not worried about it.” Max stated, tying up the last lace of her shoe without looking up at him.
Mike then set the milk down on the table and slid his hands into his pockets, walking over to the door next to Max. “How was she today? Any problems?”
“Nope, no problems. She was a little angel, much quieter than some of the kids I’ve looked after before.” Max smiled, standing back up and crossing her arms.
“Still hasn’t said anything, huh?”
“Nope. She hasn’t … Sorry, Mike.”
Mike didn’t say anything in return, just a small little head nod in acknowledgement. He then reached over and opened the door for his young neighbor, “Take it easy, Max. Try not to get into too much trouble.”
“Ha, like I ever have.” Max snickered as she walked out the door, Mike closing it right behind her, unable to help himself from chuckling as he did. Honestly, she reminded him a bit of himself back when he was a teenager… although, perhaps that didn’t mean the greatest things for Max, but she had a good head on her shoulders; and that’s one thing he certainly did not have back in those days. However, as Mike was walking away from the front door, he stopped dead in tracks. He realized he had forgotten to ask if they had eaten dinner yet… But knowing his sister's behavior the past few weeks --- months--- the answer was probably not. Her eating schedule hasn’t been what you would call consistent. Guess that means he’s going to have to ask her himself.
Mike walked down the small little hallway, taking a stop at the closed door on his left. He awkwardly put one of his hands in his pocket as he raised the other one and politely began knocking on the door with his fist. “Liz?... Are you in there?”
No answer. However, Mike could hear some light shuffling going on through the wooden door. Yup, she’s definitely in there.
Mike knocked again. “Liz. Come on, I know you can hear me. Can I come in?” More silence. Mike sighed, he didn’t know why he bothered asking her questions when he knew she wasn’t going to answer, at least not with her words. With that, Mike decided to just bite the bullet and open the door, at least a crack, and if she’s not wanting to see him then it’s her own fault for not answering. “Elizabeth…”
Yup, there she was. Ten year old girl sitting at her little desk, crayons in hand, doodling away at a freshly drawn piece of paper, not even looking or acknowledging his existence.
Mike sighed, walking into her room, looking around at the walls. It was just as old as the rest of the apartment, harshly contrasted by the teddy bears, the pink bean-bag chair and her princess bedsheets. Stereotypical girly room… However, Elizabeth was anything but girly these days. Not like how she used to be. Mike walked over to Elizabeth's desk, watching her color in the lines of her latest art project. Looked like a dog of some sort… It’s cute…
As Michael opened his mouth to say something he noticed that Elizabeth's ginger hair was rather well-done today. That was probably Max’s doing, God bless her… Mike did his best to take care of Elizabeth and keep her hair combed, but he was not good at decorating hair or making it look anything more than just ‘neat.’ Mike felt a little smile pull at the edge of his face; Max was a weird little punk, but she was a very good babysitter.
“I’m going to assume you haven’t eaten anything today, have you? Well, I was thinking, we could order out again… Or I could make us something.” Mike put his hands in his pockets, waiting for some sort of response or atleast slight acknowledgement of his mere presence in her room… Silence.
‘Great, it’s one of these kinds of days.’ Mike rolled his eyes and let out another sigh. He had hoped she would have at least nodded her head or something, at least to signify that she was listening. But that's the thing, sometimes she just didn’t bother to communicate with him, or anyone at all. It was extremely annoying and… Disheartening.
“Well, actually… Money’s a little tight. How about an old fashioned PB and J?”
… More silence, nothing filling the air but the scratching of her crayons and the hum of her little lamp. ‘Yeah, no, I don’t think this is happening tonight.’ Mike knew better than to try and force any sort of answer or acknowledgment out of her, any sort of attempt would probably make her more moody and less willing to communicate with him in the future. It’s best to leave her alone, even though her refusal to talk to him sometimes got under his skin. Mike shrugged and began making his way to the door, ready to make a sandwich at least to leave her for later if she did get hungry.
Or… He could use his old ace in the hole again.
Michael stopped just short at the door, and turned over to Elizabeth one more time. “If you come with me to have some dinner… I just put some ice cream in the fridge.”
Suddenly, the scribbling of the crayon stopped. Liz lifted her head and slowly turned around to face him, her emerald green eyes looking up at Mike with a genuinely unreadable expression, but Mike knew what this meant. He had finally gotten her attention.
‘Oy… I probably shouldn’t keep enticing her with ice cream just to get her to do stuff. It’s probably just going to lead to more problems with her down the road,’ Mike pondered as he ate his share of the vanilla brownie-bite ice cream, which was admittedly very tasty. However, as much as he knew he shouldn’t be hanging sugary treats in front of Elizabeth in order to get her to react, Mike just hated seeing her all cooped up in her room and not eating.
He looked up at the table, where on the other side sat Elizabeth, calmly and stoically eating her bowl of ice cream, as silent as she could be… Not happily, not enthusiastically, just silently and slowly. Mike couldn’t help but frown at the sight of this girl who was just--- just a shell of who she used to be. She used to be so damn loud, so irritatingly frantic and vocal! God, she was unbearably spoiled and now… Now all she does is sit quietly and stay almost as far away from him as possible.
Mike will admit, she used to really annoy the hell out of him but… God, he misses that bratty five year old… There’s a small part of him that has the nerve to ask ‘what happened to that little girl?’... But they both knew what happened. And nothing could fix that… There’s nothing Mike can do but --- wait. Wait and hope that one day, just a small part, just a little flicker of light will return to her eyes again. He’s seen it before, he knows it’s still there but, good lord, she’s been silent for so long now.
‘God, I am so bad at this,’ Mike thought as he swallowed his last bit of food and leaned his forehead into his palm, closing his eyes. He could feel that small bit of panic creeping up in his chest again, the voices in the back of his head just itching at him, telling him that he is just not fit to be raising this little girl. How could he be? With all the damn chaos that has been circling his life, Michael did not know how in Gods name that he was going to make this work! It’s all such a mess, and it just --- It just never gets easier!... Nothing ever changes.
Mike gritted his teeth and sucked the air into his lungs, literally trying to force his thoughts down his own gullet… And then exhaled, sitting himself upwards to recompose himself. After all, he had to tell Elizabeth the news and he didn’t need to accidentally direct his own insecurities and stresses out onto her. Lord knows how much more that could mess her up. But first, he had to ask her an important question.
“So, how was your day with Max? She still being good to you?..."
Elizabeth continued noshing on the ice cream, as if she couldn’t hear him ask the question. For a moment it looked like she was going to continue playing silent as she has been this far, but then, out of nowhere, the ginger girl started slowley nodding her head up and down in response to his question. With that, Mike let out a sigh of relief. He really wasn’t sure how he was going to do this if she wasn’t even going to acknowledge him at all today other than his promises of Ice Cream.
Mike nodded his head. “Good, good. That’s good.” He leaned back in his chair, clearing his throat and tapping his fingers on the plastic white table. “Just so you know, she's going to be watching you at night from here on out, except for the weekends. I got a new night job.”
The scooping of ice cream suddenly steadied and then stopped, however, the little girl still didn't look up at Mike. An uneasy tension had somehow snuck its way into the room… Mike felt his mind stall for a minute. He honestly hadn’t considered the possibility that Elizabeth would not like the idea of him not being here at night. He had done the night shift before and she had seemed fine with it but that was almost a year ago now. She’s seen him almost everyday since his last job got shut down… ‘We might just have to do some damage control here.’ Awkwardly, he cleared his throat again and leaned himself over the table.
“It’s actually at that one place… Freddy Fazbears Mega… um, what was it again?” Mike squinted his face, frowning for a brief moment as the last part of the name eluded him. “Um… Freddy Fazbear’s… PizzaPlex? Super Pizzaplex? Something like that-- Anyways…” Mike awkwardly cleared his throat once more, no reaction from Elizabeth.
“What I was thinking is, after I spend some time there, and rack up some employee benefits, I could take you over there and… maybe we could make a day out of it?” Mike offered with a soft, albeit nervous smile.
Silence hung in the air again, and Elizabeth did not resume eating her ice cream. Instead, she calmly got out of her seat and walked over to the sink, and sat her unfinished bowl of ice cream within it. She then turned around and without even so much as making eye contact with Mike just walked straight out of the kitchen.
Mike sat in his chair, listening to her footsteps walking down the hallway until they reached her door, which was then lightly closed.
He sighed, sinking into his chair and slumping his shoulders after a minute of just sitting there. He put up both of his hands again and used his fingers to massage his temples, closing his eyes, as if he could just force the growing sense of failure out of his head. But all that came out was a slightly annoyed growl from under his breath. “This is not my day.” Mike then stood up and walked over to the sink, where he laid eyes on the half-eaten bowl of ice cream sitting abandoned alongside the other dishes. He huffed before turning on the hot water and watching the ice cream melt away from under the faucet. ‘Whatever, if she wants to throw a fit --- then let her. I don't give a bloody damn...’ Mike scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning up against the fridge.
As the hot water splashed against Michael’s face, he felt a small release of tension from his shoulders, and a sigh of relief escaped his jaw. He slowly ran his hands down his cheeks until his face was completely unobscured, allowing him to get a good look at the man staring back at him from the mirror… The man was a skinny twenty-five year old, with tired blue eyes that always hung half-open, or half closed; which accurately portrayed how Mike was feeling in this moment... His brown wavy hair parted at his forehead, as he liked to keep it out of his face. Michael's appearance wasn’t one that he thought was particularly handsome, but not exactly ugly either. On the odd date he used to go on in high school he remembered that there was a particular girl that had said he had very “intense eyes.” However, on a separate date, with a completely different girl, he remembered being told specifically that he had a very “dead stare” and was “very creepy.” One of the other reasons she stated that he was “creepy” was because of Michaels very deep and somewhat raspy voice, alongside his heavy English accent.
Michael couldn’t help but snort a little bit, cracking a small smile on the side of his face as he pondered over those comments. ‘Very lovely thing to hear, not at all insulting.’ As Mike reached over and switched off the faucet, he had to give props to that one girl for playing it so straight with him. Though in all fairness to Michael, he was never particularly good with dates, not even at a young age. It’s not so much that Michael didn’t care about the idea of finding a partner but he just found the process of it all so… exhausting. And nowadays, it definitely wasn’t on the top of his priority list.
Clearing his throat, Michael exited the bathroom and made his way back to his bedroom. As he entered his room, he took a moment to look around a bit at its surroundings… Of all the rooms in the apartment, this one was the most stark and barren. No posters, no photos, just a bed, some light weights and a small table with a lamp. Nothing else. Mike really didn’t need or want anything else to dress up the room, this worked just fine. The TV and family photos were all in the living room anyway, soooo, it’s fine.
As Mike undressed himself, stripping down to his boxers, it did occur to him though it would probably be worthwhile to start his light exercising routines again. He had fallen out of it pretty much the past few weeks, it would be nice to keep up the old routines again and stay somewhat in shape. Keep his mind busy and occupied in between taking care of Elizabeth, working his shifts and catching reruns of The Immortal and the Restless. Yeah, that sounds nice…. However, before Mike could turn out the lights just yet, he had one more thing he had to do. He reached over to the little drawer under his lamp and took out a little orange pill bottle, with a good dozen pills still left in it. Still, Mike made a mental reminder to call for a refill in advance. If he waited until the last minute it could take a week before they were able to refill it.
‘Hypnocil - Dream Repellant,' read the bottle.
Mike then poured out two blue little tablets into his palm and then proceeded to toss them into his mouth… This would go down better with water but he was already sitting in bed, whatever. Mike took in a short breath and then forced himself to swallow the two pills, which did go down pretty easy but, still, next time might wanna just go with the glass of water. Mike then threw the covers off of the bed and crawled underneath them. He reached his hand over and turned off the light, and then closed his eyes and let his head hit the pillow under him. He laid there for a few minutes, trying to let the bad thoughts melt away as he focused on the feeling of the pillow against his cheeks, the blanket covering him, his body sinking into the mattress. And with one last breath, Michael finally drifted into a peaceful sleep for the night as one last thought creeped into his mind.
‘Better enjoy the night-rest while I can.’