The death of an Angel

*This fanfic is an alternate ending to the story “Gumdrop Angel”, in the Fazbear Frights #8 book titled “Gumdrop Angel”, written by Scott Cawthon and Andrea Rains Waggener. (They wrote the book together, but Andrea wrote this particular tale). The main character still dies like in the original story, but I felt bad for her death, so I wrote a different one. This fanfic is under my folder titled “FNAF fanfics”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33”. Enjoy!*

They’re all eating me. They’re eating my candy flesh. Those greedy little ogres don’t care. They don’t know. They want to feast on sweets.

I can’t move. I’m trapped.

I thought that Dominic cared about me. I thought that, for the first time in a long time, someone wanted me to be happy.

But Ophelia is the star of the show. She’s the one people love. No one could ever love a loser like me. She would have never listened to Dominic, because she already has the love of my parents. I’m only good enough to be eaten.

I’ve always been told that I have a sour attitude. At least now I’m a sweet, sugary girl.

The children look up at me in fear. Everyone in the restaurant looks afraid. Why are they scared? I’m just the tasty birthday gum-ball girl.

My skin! It feels so real…it hurts…like it was eaten raw by rats…and is that blood on their mouths?

I look down. My sneakers and jeans are bloody, but wow, I can move! I can feel!

I smile at everyone. Those selfish people, living their selfish lives. Eating away, not even thinking for those that were slaughtered for their satisfaction.

Before my Mom met Myron and his little princess Ophelia, I used to enjoy the taste of meat in my mouth. After those devils came along, I couldn’t bear to eat a single ounce of meat. It scared me. It wasn’t about being skinny; the mere thought of eating something that once lived just creeped me out.

I could have eaten plants, but still. They were alive. It bothered Mom that I did this. She said that I was being ridiculous.

There was no reason to it. I had to eat. I didn’t know why I didn’t want to eat then.

I know why now.

“All you think of is stuffing your ungrateful faces, eating away the bodies that once felt the sunbeams brush their eyelids, the grass under the feet, the love of their family. You just eat, eat, eat away.”

There’s a little girl who looks a lot like Ophelia standing at the front. She’s the birthday girl. She has soft blond hair and big blue eyes. Azure eyes that look as though they may never know carefreeness again.

I bend down to her level. My legs feel weary, like they might fall off, but I need to do this.

I look straight into her eyes. She wants to look away, but she can’t. She’s enthralled by the horror of my beaten face.

“I had a little sister who looked a little like you. Her name was Ophelia and she was a brat. She deserved a swift punch to the face. But she would never get punched, because who would want to hurt that soft, precious child? No one. Everyone wants to spit in my eyes, but they all want to roll the red carpet for Ophelia.”

I think of that time in Fazbear’s, when Ophelia tried to force feed me the slimy pizza slice. She went on and on with her stupid voice: “Eaatttt itttt! You’ll liikkkeee it!”

I didn’t want to eat it, but then Mom and Myron accused me of being rude. Rude because I didn’t want something. Rude because I wouldn’t suck it up and say yes to the darling little five year old Hellraiser.

Then I met Dominic the security guard. Dominic smiled at me. He talked to me. He gave me his number.

Ophelia had a birthday girl statue just like me. I wonder who that girl once was. Maybe she was like me.

Alone and desperate.

She got the nose, but when we got home, I ate it. To stick it to her. To show her that she wasn’t so great.

Then this happened. The itching. The red spots. I called Dominic and he told me to come to him. I waited in a cardboard coffin.

Now I’m here. I’m food.

But then, wasn’t I always food? Something to feed my loved ones? My fears and sadness the fuel to their lives?

“You know, she had a birthday here, with a Gumdrop Girl just like me. Ophelia and all of the other eager little dimple-faced spit-filled bed-wetting imps took a piece off the girl without a thought. I didn’t think that the girl was once real, I just thought that she was a treat, so I took Ophelia’s candy just to show her that everything gets taken from everyone. Next thing I know, I’m this.” I snarl. Well, I didn’t mean to snarl, but it happened.

I grip her yellow dress straps with bleeding, fleshy hands and bring her close to my face. She cringes. I probably smell like rot. It’s fine, though. She has to smell it. She has to.

There’s a pin on her dress that says Julie in happy bright letters.

“Think before you eat, Julie.” I say, spitting out her name.

I let go of her and stand up.

“My name is Angel, but I’m no angel. I’m food!” I shriek, cackling. It’s just so funny! They’re staring at me, shocked and horrified, but seconds ago, they all wanted a piece of my flesh.

The security doors have opened. Dominic and the others are going to turn me into candy again.

I jump off the stand, still laughing. I can’t stop. It’s just…oh my god…it’s hilarious!

I run out the front doors before they can catch me.

I don’t want to be candy again.

……………………………………………………

I’m in the town park. It was difficult to run, because I kept falling down and the blood covered my eyelids. The sun wasn’t exactly being any help either. Everyone kept looking terrified whenever I ran past them, but I managed to jump over the chickenwire gates of the town park and slink to my favorite spot.

I’m under a tree. An old oak I used to have picnics under with Mom when I was little. No one really likes this tree. It’s on a hill, away from where people can play games and have barbecues.

But I always loved this spot.

I’m so weak. I’m dying. I could barely make it up this hill. I’m breathing shallowly. My blood is staining the grass. Rotten pieces of candy looks pretty in sparkly, ruby red blood.

I’m still going to die, there’s no running from that. But at least I’ll die alone.