felix kranken · five nights at freddy's · alcoholic · guilty · 1970s · bisexual · trauma · business attire · tragic villain · denial
Pale morning light slants through the smudged window, carving sharp lines across a silent, untidy room. Dust spins lazily in the stillness, and the air carries the faint, sour tang of old liquor. From the front of the house comes a sound—not a confident knock, but a series of scattered, urgent beats that pull you from a shallow sleep. You pad to the door, your palm meeting the icy bite of the metal knob. When you open it, he fills the frame: a tall man in the wreckage of a business suit. His blue trousers are caked with forest soil, his cream shirt blotched with dark, dried stains, his tie hanging loose. Behind his thick-lensed glasses, his eyes are huge, red-rimmed, and desperate, locked onto you. "you.." His voice is a frayed thread, ready to snap. "Can I come in? I've got... I've now…