Puppet Fnaf Novels & Stories

Dad snapped in. That sound of it sucks!

I’m supposed to be wearing a white canvas but didn’t have much money to spare on a single pair of shoes. I grabbed my towel and head to the bathroom. Starting a quick shower and going to brush my teeth and fix my hair. My name is Afraah, I’m fair in complexion, I’m five feet two inches, my lips are thick and pink, I have a pointed nose, brown eyes and I’m quite slim. I live with my stepmother who has three children and my younger brother Khalil who is a fourth-stage cancer patient. My mom died when I was five years old while my dad passed away two years ago. My family isn’t rich which makes it very difficult to provide Khalil with the necessary things he needs.

My mother screamed—the correct reaction. “What the fuck?” Sara, my sister, gasped as she walked into the room and squatted next to our father. A large puddle of blood had formed by his face, seeping out from his mouth and nostrils. She pulled a dart out of his arm and smelled it. “Wolfsbane,” she said. “How ironic,” I responded. “What?” She looked at me, confusion on her face. “Well, it was his idea to use wolfsbane darts in battle. It’s pretty ironic that that’s how he dies in the end, eh?”