The Murderer learned a valuable lesson today; fire hurt.
He let out a gurgling, pained moan as he trudged through the flaming attraction, the Springtrap suit's mechanical feet clanking on the floor beneath him. The searing pain of what was left of his dried, rotten, mangled carcass turning to ash was as great as when the springlocks of what was now his seemingly eternal prison failed on him. He briefly pondered the irony of his situation; he, the child murderer who had inadvertently imprisoned his victims within what were effectively mobile iron maidens, being left to the same fate; but now, he was being 'freed' in a far more painful manner than the children had been.
He was going to die in a fire.
But he refused to accept that. The exit was in sight. "I will be free," the Murderer thought, putting out a hand to open the door once he reached it, "Free to continue my work."
The second he thought that, a support of the building fell from the ceiling, slamming into Springtrap's legs and causing the animatronic to fall, as the undead presence inside let out a screech of anger, horror and pain. Refusing to give in, despite the animatronic's fragile legs having been rendered inoperable by the impact, he began crawling along the floor towards the exit. He didn't get very far, however, before his vision started to blur in and out, and it wasn't very long after that that they appeared.
One by one, the Phantoms surrounded the burning animatronic; first Balloon Boy, then Mangle, then Foxy, then Chica. They simply stared down at the broken, dying wreck, unmoving and unblinking, before the Phantoms of Freddy and the Puppet appeared, looming in front of Springtrap. The Phantom Puppet slowly knelt down, staring at the terrified murderer.
"You should have learned by now," it said calmly. "Did you really think that, after all you've done, you were going to escape alive?" It continued, tilting its head to the side. Springtrap couldn't respond, for the Murderer's vocal cords had been torn to shreds when the springlocks had failed. The Phantom Puppet, expecting a reply, suddenly burst forward into Springtrap's face. "ANSWER ME," it screeched, and Springtrap quickly shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he could see a damaged, slumped Freddy suit of indiscernible color next to Phantom Freddy, head turned towards him; but it was gone as quickly as it came.
"I thought so," the Phantom Puppet said, and Springtrap's head snapped back to it. The Phantom slowly stood up, head hanging down to look at the animatronic. "Enjoy your last moments, murderer. For there won't be anyone to SAVE YOU."
In less than a second, all of the Phantoms had disappeared, leaving the burning Murderer to die.
The Springtrap suit was holding up remarkably well against the flames, but they were licking in through the many holes in the suit, and the Murderer's remains weren't so fortunate. He could already feel what was left of his body crumbling to dust as he noticed a small Freddy figurine a few feet away. He shakily reached over and grabbed it, and his old lust for death and destruction returned; In a garbled scream of rage, he raised the figurine into the air, preparing to throw it to the floor, to see just one more thing ruined by his hands.
He never got the chance. The remains of the Murderer burned away, leaving only the animatronic eyes. The Springtrap suit became lifeless, dropping the figurine and shutting down on its side with a dull thud. The figurine landed back in its original position, unharmed.
The scene was unchanged when the auctioneers came to salvage what was left.
Author's Note: Wrote this short story for the latest Monthly Contest on the FNaF subreddit. I thought it'd be a fun way to get back into writing, so I hope you enjoyed reading it!