Soul Trapped

So now, William was back in his ex-hell, laying across his couch and curled under a blanket. Clara would come and go, which was appreciated yet potentially unnecessary. If he needed to stay there, he could lock the entrance and exits himself, just so he didn’t worry her about his mental state and he could be left alone.

William Afton, Honorable Cavalier, spares the main character if they win the fight.

Location: Magical Mansion Ability: Wicked Observer Quote: "Just who do you think I am?"

Difficulty: 10

Appearance: 7

Creativity: 10

Sound/BGM: 8

Replayability: 8

Whatever passed as an illusion of his heart, was racing. There was no thump-thump-thump, of course, but the mental notion, the sensation of fear and adrenaline both rising, racing not-heart making him shivery and twitchy with ‘GET AWAY’ energy, making Poltergeist think more and more that he was in danger and had to runrunrun before he got hurt-

If this was what Will looked like at his time of death, even just a little bit, then Poltergeist was no longer curious what had happened to him.  As well, the fear was starting to override even the guilt, now. He’d seen a lot of freaky-looking Personas, seen at least one dead-or-dying body in what’s his face, Haru’s dad whose name he didn’t recall. Seen his own. But nothing like this, and certainly not this close. A body with a bullet-hole in it’s skull was wild, wildly different from this horrifying thing making itself known before him.

Maybe he’d seen something similar in movies. But there was a distinct feeling with movies that had you knowing instinctively that it wasn’t real. Scary, maybe. But not real. This, very much was.

“You- pulled me out, I-” Poltergeist started, trying to argue back but between Will’s current appearance, and Clara’s presence - Clara that he liked and didn’t want to make mad at him - he couldn’t make himself actually argue. Just… take a half step back. Escape escape escape- but would he be chased if he ran? Maybe.

“I was-” Another failed attempt at speaking. Anything he tried to come up with, it felt instantly like it wouldn’t be enough. Not nearly satisfying enough to please the being in front of him. Paradoxically, the fear in his head made him want to both shrink down to a small, unnoticeable size, but at the same time - become so big and so powerful that he could just shatter everything nearby and make himself safe again. Instead he did nothing but take another half-step back. Preparing to run, to dart the moment it seemed like he wouldn’t be chased.

By now, the kids finally made their way to see what was going on. Keeping their distance (though at least one of them wondered if they even had a minimum safe distance at this point) and watching on in concern. Mostly. 

“William’s gonna fail, William’s gonna-ow!” That was Cassidy. 

“Cassidy, shut up!” Charlotte hissed out.

While that had gone on, William grabbed Clara’s arms and tried to free himself. Clara flinched, but otherwise she didn’t budge. “Let-” Though at Cassidy’s words, his attention shifted to the brat. A collective ‘eep!’ came from the kids near her, them shrinking away. 

The momentary distraction aside, William went back to trying to free himself for a few moments longer. Clara still didn’t budge, and perhaps that was enough for him to finally slow down and stop. That, or the hug itself. Either way, he stopped struggling and took a shaky breath in, and out. The metal-and-corpse structure stopped, even receded slightly. Though not at the same pace as when it grew. 

He’d never seen Will’s other shape. Whatever it was he happened to look like when he was too agitated to remember he was human, and not… whatever it was that the man currently looked like. It made a small curious part of Poltergeist wonder what had happened that this was what Will looked like when he was losing control (what he looked like when he died?) but the rest of him was more caught up in the fact that he was this angry.

He was mad enough to look different. That meant something. Will had never been this agitated in his presence before.

With only a single word from Clara being the extent of the conversation before all three of them were pulled back to Purgatory, Poltergeist stumbled, still feeling quite small as he was released - well, more pushed, but either way. Not gently, but not enough to cause any damage beyond another spike of mixed fear-and-guilt at it happening.

“Yes sir…” Came a quick, quiet reply - then, a memory of police that sparked a flare of anger, quickly shoved down and away, overpowered by the fear and guilt of being both found out and dragged back. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t, couldn’t bring himself to be sorry about the action itself, just that he hadn’t been cautious enough for them to leave him be. That he’d somehow caught their attention enough to have them both come after him. Beneath the nervousness and fear, of course.

For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something - opening his mouth and taking a breath- before seeming to think otherwise. Closing his mouth, and staying silent. Staying quiet and hoping this would all blow over soon.

“Are you?” Whoever Poltergeist was trying to fool, they might’ve believed him. Clara might’ve believed him, for all William knew. But not him. He knew that until Poltergeist saw who it was that pulled him out, the younger ghost was upset. Angry at him for daring to ruin his fun. He knew Poltergeist likely enjoyed the power, the control he felt, being able to puppet someone else. He probably liked being an actual, living and breathing human again. Practicing on who knew how many people.

No, Poltergeist couldn’t fool him at all, and pity the fool for thinking about trying.

“No, I don’t think you are.” He took a step forward, but held back from truly towering over him again by Clara. While William couldn’t see it, she gave a very worried look. One that showed her internal questioning of where this was going, and if she needed to stop him. “You’re sorry you got caught. That you couldn’t hide. Not for the new ways of harm that’s open to you.”

The parts of him that’d been corpse-and/or-metal, “small” as those areas had been, now grew. Spreading along his body. He didn’t notice, didn’t care. Just smiled, showing his teeth. Like a predator that closed in on their prey. “It’s freeing, isn’t it.” But whatever else he had to say, Clara stopped it by yanking him back to her. Momentarily catching him off balance. He let out a startled yelp. 

William sneered, but otherwise hadn’t immediately answered. He couldn’t, both because he was processing Poltergeist’s response and thinking of his own response. Struggling against the temptation to revel in Poltergeist’s fear.

Clara must’ve sensed it, too, cause he felt her tighten her grip around his arm. Heard her soft “Will...” He grumbled, but didn’t do much else.

Why had he come? What currently remained of his rational mind wasn’t sure he could answer that. Anger and rage came so naturally to him, made him irrational in ways he didn’t realize. Perhaps he cared more for the younger ghost than he thought. Perhaps he related more to him than he realized. 

Perhaps he wanted to stop him from making his same mistakes, the way no one else could when he was alive.

Unable to do much in his current state - not without regrets, anyways - William instead dragged Poltergeist home and pushed him away once they arrived. Rough, yet held back on some level. Like he was thinking - however brief - of tossing Poltergeist instead.