You stood alone, your purple hair blowing in the wind as you stared at the car that was driving in the distance. With one shaky breath you tightened your grip on your suitcase and began dragging it with you towards the door.

The dead yellow grass crunched under your feet as you walked. While the trash that sat on it threatened to combust into flames in the summer heat.

You looked down at the letter in your hand to distract yourself from the feelings that swirled inside of you. Your mother's curvy handwriting a comfort to you in your strange new surroundings.

You grasped the letter tightly to your chest as you reached the porch. The world around you warped as you stared at the door. It grew and burned a hot, bright red, as if it was the gateway to your own personal hell.

Your stomach churned as you hit the doorbell. Your eyes screwing themselves closed in anticipation. There was silence.

You cracked one eye open, confused by the lack of reaction. You pushed the button again awkwardly. More silence.

As you contemplated hitting the button again the door swung open revealing a large irate looking man.

Your young purple eyes ran slowly up his body. His legs were longer than your entire body was tall, with your head only coming up to slightly below his waist.

His torso was nicely sculpted, shown off by his lack of shirt. You felt yourself shrink backwards as you looked into his eyes.

Even without the large scowl that adorned his face, the hidden rage that burned brightly behind the veil of his white pupiless eyes was enough to make you want to run away and never come back.

Your small frame began to shake at the sight of this intimidating man. "What do you want?" His voice was gravely and deep

You stared down at your shuffling feet as you held out the letter. You felt the piece of paper lazily tugged from your grasp. "M-my name is (Y/N)." You said softly. "I-I'm five years old and mommy told me to come here."

He seemed to take no notice of your introduction as his eyes scanned over the paper. "Just like that bitch. Shove all her problems over to me." He said to himself. His eyes focused on you as he crushed the paper in his hands.

"Come on." He said. He dropped the paper, letting it float to the ground slowly and join the piles of other trash on the floor. You followed him stiffly. Your eyes darted around the room you were in.

There was trash strewn everywhere, pile after pile of miscellaneous junk. It was poorly lit and the curtains were drawn leaving you next to blind as he kicked the door closed behind you.

"The name's Vincent." He said. His eyes scanned the room, searching for something. "There's a spare room. End of the hall." He grabbed a bag out of a pile on the floor.

"It should be relatively empty. If there's something in there just toss it out." He began walking away. "And don't bother me. Ever." With those last words he vanished into what you assumed to be his bedroom.

With nothing else to go on you scurried to the room at the end of the hall and poked your head in cautiously. The room was empty except for a dusty bed, a lamp, a closet, and an empty book shelf that sat in the corner.

You walked slowly over to the bookcase. Your fingers ran tentatively over the smooth wooden surface. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the oddly placed patch of black behind the case.

With curiosity getting the best of you, you began to push on the case. To your shock it rolled easily over the carpeted floor. It was a sheet. You tugged on the sheet roughly, tearing it from its place on the wall.

You smiled at the comforting light that the window let in. Basking in the bright gold glow. You glanced once more around the room. You smiled. "It might not be so scary here after all." You whispered.

You fell backwards onto the newly made bed, your eyelids sliding over your eyes in relaxation. The scent of familiarity brought on by your covers doing a great deal to calm your restless mind.

You clutched the covers in your small fists. You curled into the bunched piece of cloth as you tried desperately to understand what had happened, Why you were here.

Your mother loved you right? But if she did why did she send you away? Why did you have to leave? Why were you at your fathers? Why didn't your mother want you to stay?

You held back your tears as the question arose. What if she didn't want you?

A growl from your stomach pulled you out of your thoughts. "Guess I'm hungry…" You said. You slowly crawled down from your bed.

When you pulled open the door you were nearly floored by the stench that permeated throughout the house.

You stuck your head into the room for one last breath of fresh air before closing it behind you, shielding your room from the stench. Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor as you ventured towards the kitchen.

You froze when you saw Vincent sitting on a chair. A cigarette hung loosely in his mouth as he stared at the wall across the room with a dazed look in his eyes.

The warning to not bother him replayed itself in your mind but was brushed away by another growl from your stomach. You nervously walked over to him, the urge to give up getting stronger with every small step you took.

"E-excuse me, Mister Vincent?" You said softly. His gaze snapped to you, causing you jump before squirming uncomfortably. "I wanted something to eat but…" His eyes became too much for you as you trailed off.

"Make yourself a sandwich or something. There's some leftovers in the fridge if nothing else." He said. You felt a weight lift off of you as his gaze returned to the wall.

You walked to the fridge, holding in a shriek when a rather large cockroach scuttled across the floor in front of you.

When you opened the fridge the first thing you saw was a box. You read the label to yourself quietly. "Freddy Fa-Fazbear's pizza?" You tensed as Vincent reached over your head into the fridge. "C-can I have some?" You asked.

He shrugged. "Just don't touch my beer and were good." He pulled out a bottle of said beverage and returned to his previous position.

You pulled the box from the freezer, revealing another smaller one. "Eddie's home donuts?" Your face lit up at the mention of the sweet pastry.

Your eyes darted to Vincent before you quickly removed the box from the fridge, nearly causing an avalanche in the process.

You happily reheated two large slices of pizza before taking them and the box of doughnuts to your room.

A/N: Is that a good intro? I wanted to do something with Vincent because he's so fun to play with. Please tell me what you think.

If you've read my other stories please tell me which style you like better. Please give me some feedback on this one it's very crucial to my process of learning.