William's P.O.V

I stared at Michael's headless corpse, feeling nauseous. It wasn't the first time I'd seen blood, or a corpse. But it was the first time I had seen a child die in this fashion.

The stranger rolled his eyes from under the mask and twirled a hand pistol between his fingers. "It's just a dead child. You've seen plenty. Stop overreacting."

I gaped at the masked man, who noticed and groaned.

"Are you seriously that squeamish, Afton? He's just a soul here to torture you in your Hell." the man said callously. "You've done worse to a variety of children."

"I never blew up a kid's head with a gun." I snarled.

"You have a point." the man said. "But you did worse, to more kids."

And without another word he strode out the front door and down the driveway.

Like a fool, I ran after him.

The man ran down the street, his form beginning to flicker with the setting...oh crap. The memory transition. His actual form flashed between his hooded form and a twisted endoskeleton that I couldn't recognize. Yet, like every animatronic soul, lurking in the shadows of my memories, it had a name.

Ennard.

I closed my eyes, hoping to eliminate the horrific sight from my mind, but was forced into the next memory.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the backseat of my old purple Toyota as it barreled down the city street at 83 miles per hour. Alice, my sweet wife, was in the driver's seat of the rigged car, screaming in terror.

I immediately looked for an exit to this prison of a vehicle, but there was no escape. Like all my other tortures, there were no exits. I couldn't leave the memories until they ended. Which had to end in sorrow or regret.

How cliché.

The car swerved past a group of pedestrians as Alice desperately twisted the driver's wheel 165 degrees. I slammed into the left side of the car, wincing in pain. There would be worse to come before my Alice's death, however.

Then, there was a loud "POP!", followed by three more. The car slowed and stopped right before the next group of pedestrians: elderly people crossing the street. That was one of the most painful, second to Alice's death.

The hooded man opened the left hind door, releasing me from the death trap. "I told you to follow me, but you didn't listen. Luckily, this memory was easy to track you in, considering that you were in the car. Now, let's go. We need to jump to the memory with your exit before the memory transitions."

I searched my pockets for weapons, but to no avail. "Give me one fucking reason why I should trust you. You're no fucking better than the rest of those child bastards."

The man seemed to smirk underneath the painted smile of his mask. "Because if you don't, then you'll sit forever in your eternal hell."

"What's so bad about that?"

"I decided that I wouldn't fucking kill you outright, you ungrateful son of a bitch."

"You're calling my mother a bitch? She was a good woman, you dick-headed freak."

"Why don't you stop fucking arguing with your rescuer and get out of the god-damned car!"

I grumbled but complied with the man. At least I could get out of here, even if he was a complete asshole. 

The man adjusted his mask then aimed his gun at Alice's head. He then lowered the gun and muttered something along the lines of "I can't shoot this woman."

I walked down the street, and the man ran after me, shouting to turn left at Craulbery Street.

Together, the strange man and I turned onto Craulbery Street and exited the memory.

What I saw next was insanity.