Apologies for the wait! I had family to visit for the past two weeks and never could get the time to sit down and write, but now that my schedule is pretty much back to normal I will hopefully be able to post sooner than this one! I also want to give a big thank you to those who have reviewed my story! Especially to the guests whom I can't message back! I hope you continue to enjoy my story!
"What the hell?"
Springtrap didn't know what was going on, but he didn't like it. The building should have been demolished days ago but, once again, night had come and still it stood around him like a monument to his curse, his own personal hell on earth.
He had been sitting in the same spot for the past thirteen hours but now, he clambered onto his feet. His rusted joints made squeaking sounds as he stretched out his arms and reached for the doorknob. After being subjected to nothing but darkness for years, Springtrap knew where everything was, every loose tile, every door, every piece of trash this place held. He hoped that this had changed and the building had been torn down around him.
He stepped out into the hallway and stared down its untouched lengths in a flood of despair. Nothing had changed – nothing! As before, everything was standing.
He didn't understand it. A few of weeks ago, he had clearly overheard the owner talking to another man about bulldozing the building and selling off the lot. They had debated as to whether he should be junked or sold for parts. It had been scheduled to take place two days ago, and yet no walls had fallen on him, no ceiling had caved in, and no one had come to take him apart as they had promised.
What did he have to do to end this nightmare?
With a frustrated snarl, Springtrap stomped down the hall to his left. Perhaps the demolition was only delayed. He wondered briefly if this had something to do with that woman who had visited the place a couple of days back. Surely not. What woman in her right mind would want to take on a project doomed to failure before it even began?
Springtrap paused mid-step, head whipping back towards the party room. The once narrow and small room that had been filled with broken tables and chairs and half-rotted decorations now stood empty, and . . . Did it seem bigger than it had the other day?
With narrowed eyes, Springtrap stepped into the now spacious party room. The walls had been stripped of the plaster down to the studs. The only thing left reminding him that this had once been two separate spaces were the old support beams running down the center of the enlarged room. The floor was in the process of being ripped out, leaving the subflooring exposed in several places. The plaster and tile were lying in a pile in the corner of the room waiting to be hauled off. In another corner lay fresh plywood, two by fours, and stacks of drywall.
Dread filled Springtrap as realization slammed into him. Not a demolition, then, but a renovation.
Someone was actually going to fix this place up? Springtrap shook his head in denial. No! This was not supposed to happen! He wanted this to end! This place . . . It needed to be forgotten, its memories destroyed! Everything needed to be burned to the ground!
Springtrap froze. Burn . . . Yes, burn. It needed to burn! He didn't have to wait for someone to do it for him; he could end this madness now!
Springtrap spun on his rotted heels and hobbled out of the room, his eyes instinctively shooting to the camera at the end of the hall. The little red light that indicated it was active was missing. What did that mean? Was no one watching? Was there no one here now? That just made what he was about to do easier. He headed down the hall in the direction of the security room, his ear and a half straining to pick up any sounds of another's presence. So far, only his own footfalls answered him.
Entering the security room, he paused, gaping at the emptiness of it. The desk, the computer that connected to the cameras, even his favorite swivel chair - his only swivel chair – were all gone. Everything had been stripped clean. The walls and floors in the same condition as the party room. Growling, Springtrap's hands curled into tight fists.
He was turning to leave when he saw it, a cheetah-print purse lay abandoned in one corner of the room. Curious, he crossed over to stare at the handbag. Did this mean that the woman from the other day had bought the place? Moreover, did this mean that she was still hanging around somewhere or had she just forgotten it? He stuck his head out into the hall and listened again for sounds of a human presence. He heard nothing unusual.
Well, nothing aside from the constant humming of his electronics, a noise that was present twenty-four seven, like a gnat buzzing in your ears while your bed bound. It drove him insane. He couldn't remember what total silence sounded like!
Determining he was alone, Springtrap picked up the purse, rummaging through it. He plucked out a little, plastic, disk-shaped, object first. His eyes narrowed as he studied the strange item. Although, it looked vaguely familiar to him, he decided it was unimportant to his needs and tossed it aside. The sound of glass shattering caught his attention and he looked down. The disc had broken apart and tiny shards of mirror and dust were scattered across the floors. A distant memory of a woman using the object to look at herself in it and powdering her nose flitted briefly through his mind.
He tried to shrug the memory away. The movement, he knew looked odd. His robotic body had trouble mimicking the physical expression. It didn't matter anymore to him, and neither did the broken mirror thing. He returned his attention to the contents of the bag.
He dug around, plucking several other items out and throwing them aside, looking for he knew not what. After a few minutes, however, Springtrap began to wonder how much stuff a woman could stash in such a skimpy-looking bag. He discovered a black tube of bright pink lipstick, the name of the article he plucked from the ether in a surprising display of recall. This was followed by a leather wallet, tissues, sunglasses, keys, a broken pen, a small notepad, dental floss, and gum . . . Juicy Fruit, the pack read. He pulled out another plastic object he couldn't name. It was larger and rectangular in shape, and was heavier than the broken mirror/dusty thing. One side was black and the other was decorated in a gaudy floral pattern. He shook it, but nothing exciting happened. He grunted and tossed it on the floor with the rest of the purse's contents.
He peered into the purse's depths, was there no end to it all?
"This is ridiculous! How much junk does one person need?" Springtrap grumbled to himself.
His large, metal hand had trouble grasping a small rounded container although it was larger than the Lipstick. He jiggled the bag and listened to clinking and rattling. Losing his patience, Springtrap flipped the handbag upside down and shook it out. Paper clips, loose coins, a Chapstick, a half-eaten pack of Lifesavers, and a black, metal can fell onto the floor and scattered, bouncing and rolling everywhere. Dropping the bag, Springtrap reached for the can.
"What's this?" he asked the emptiness around him. Fumbling with it, the plastic lid popped off, revealing an interesting white button. "Curious, little thing. I wonder what you do?"
When he pressed the button, a fine, white mist shot from it. He rotated the item in his hand until he found the label. Raising it up to the light from the hallway, he read the tiny font letters printed on the side.
H-A-I-R-S-P-R-A-Y
Springtrap lowered his arm, it was as useless to him as everything else. He was about to toss it to the ground when he spotted the warning label on the back of the can. He held it up to the light again, squinting, although the action didn't help him read it. It, like his other mannerisms, were just leftover remnants of his life before death. It had been thirty years, and he still couldn't shake the habits. He turned the can so he could more easily make out the words.
"Keep Out of Reach of Children," he read aloud. "Highly Flammable."
A spurt of excitement raced through his wiring as an idea came to mind. Not so useless, after all, he thought to himself. Springtrap curled his fist around the hairspray, crushing the handbag beneath his foot as he walked out of the security room.
Madeleine sighed heavily as she leaned against her car door, holding a red BIC lighter, two quarters, and some lint in her hand instead of her car keys. Unfortunately, it was the only thing she had in her pockets. She was so tired that she hadn't even realized that she had left her purse behind until she needed the keys to unlock the vehicle. After such a long day, all Madeleine wanted to do was go home and soak in a tub of hot water until her skin was wrinkly.
Mac had just driven off after Maddie had assured him she'd lock up but, currently, that was just as impossible to do without her keys as driving home. Thank God, she hadn't let Mac lock up for her or she would have been stuck out here in the parking lot without even her cell phone to call Roger or a cab. Luckily for her, Maddie remembered where she had left her errant handbag and wouldn't have to search the entire building for it.
She shook her head at herself as she marched back into her building. The long hours must be taking their toll on her already for her to forget her purse. Her body was aching in places she didn't know she had muscles. Madeleine made her way back through the labyrinth of hallways to her new office stifling a yawn. In another day, the workers would have more walls torn down as they got ready to frame in the lobby section. She wanted to raise the ceiling as well to create some drama like in the theaters of old. The place would be a showstopper, welcoming families, teenagers, and couples alike.
Madeleine turned into the room she had designated her office space and came to an abrupt halt. She gasped at the mess. Her belongings had been scattered across the floor in a chaotic manner. She bent down and grabbed her now-emptied purse, and began gathering up the discarded items. She picked up her car keys and slid them into her pocket next to the lighter and the quarters. The screen of her cellphone, she noted, was now cracked.
Madeleine paused to check her wallet, frowning. Nothing was missing.
"Aw man! I just bought these," Maddie grumbled as she picked up her sunglasses. Both the sunglasses and her compact had been broken. Whoever had raided her purse had not been polite about it. The amount of damage done made her wonder if the person responsible was somehow angry at her. Although, what she could have done to inspire this, she didn't know, but why do all this if not to steal something?
Madeleine shook her head. This didn't make sense.
Her belongings retrieved, she rose to her feet and slung her purse across her shoulder. Madeleine was preparing to head back out when she heard faint noises coming from down the hall and froze in mid-step. Was the person who trashed my purse still here in the building? She hadn't really considered that. She had only assumed that the culprit had taken off when he had finished. Why was he still here unless he wanted to continue vandalizing the place?
Muscles knotting and heart racing, the thought crossed her mind that maybe she should try to make a run for it but, dang it, she had just bought this place! The urge to go investigate wasn't exactly strong; she wasn't stupid enough to take on a criminal by herself unless she had no choice. Maybe this was a homeless guy or a druggie or something . . . but Madeleine hadn't spent this much money for a place where bums could hide out. This place was her dream, and she wasn't about to let some idiot break in and trash it.
Decision made, Madeleine turned down the hall where the clanking and clattering sounds originated with a false sense of bravery. She could do this . . . and maybe if she kept telling herself that, she'd start to believe it. The rustling and clacking rose in volume the closer she got to it and Maddie slowed, instinctively hugging the walls. She'd just peek in first and see what the guy was up to. If he looked dangerous, she could retreat to the car and call the cops from there, but if he was just searching for a place to sleep, she could call Roger to help her run him off.
Madeleine frowned at that. Roger wasn't likely to drive all the way across town just to shoo a derelict off her property. Her eyes scanned the area for a sign of a possible weapon. If she did end up in a confrontation with this guy, she really did not want to go in unarmed. She spotted a piece of broken brick in the middle of the floor and scooped it up. Weighing it in her hand, Maddie figured it weighed a good eight pounds. she could do some damage with it if she had to. She shoved her phone into her back pocket so she wouldn't break it, and then dropped her makeshift weapon into her bag, zipping it up and looping the handles around her palm.
If she lived through this, Madeleine decided right then, she really needed to get a proper weapon for self-defense. She'd not be allowed a gun, but maybe a Taser or some pepper spray would work! It would be better than a bag of bricks, at least.
Just outside of the kitchen, Madeleine recognized the sound of rustling, like paper was being crunched up. She relaxed a little. Her uninvited guest was a homeless guy, she decided, but what else was he doing in there? The metallic clanking sounds were confusing her. What could possibly be making that noise?
Pressing her back against the wall, her brick-laden purse at the ready, Madeleine leaned in and peered around the door frame and frowned. The room appeared devoid of human life. The only thing in the room was a black trashcan filled to the brim with old newspaper, lumber, and other trash from around the construction zone, but nothing that explained the noises she had heard. Before she could move to investigate, the odd clanking noise began again and a figure appeared out of the storage room behind the kitchen.
It was the broken down, animatronic rabbit from the safe room! It worked? She gaped, wondering who had turned the robot on. As it hobbled into the room with another armload of trash, she tried to figure out what it was doing. As she watched, it shoved more of the garbage into the already-overstuffed bin.
Aw, he was trying to help, she decided. How sweet!
The man-sized, robotic bunny paused in his task to tug at something lodged in one of the many holes in its torso. It pulled out a couple of wires, exposing the copper ends, and touched them together, creating a spark.
Oh, that's not good, Madeleine gasped. In fact, that was a fire hazard. The rabbit picked up a small, black cylinder next and suddenly a mist sprayed out from it. Maddie caught a whiff of the acrid scent of hairspray just as another spark snapped to life and the alcohol in the hairspray lit up like a mini-blowtorch!
"Oh, my God!" she yelped. "Oh, my God!" The blasted piece of scrap metal was trying to burn down her building!
The papers in the trashcan went up like a bonfire; the flames shot up several feet in the air, nearly licking the bone-dry drop-ceiling. Those panels, she knew, would go up like they were soaked in lighter-fluid. Maddie knew from talking with plumbers yesterday that the sprinkler system wasn't working on this side of the building at the moment.
This was a kitchen! It was bound to have more than one method for dealing with a fire. Madeleine glanced around the room and located the fire extinguisher that had been installed at some point along one wall. She didn't think beyond the emergency as she dropped her brick and rushed to grab the red container from its cubby. Pulling the pin and pointing the hose, Madeleine squeezed the handle, white foam shot from the nozzle, happily coating the bin's contents and smothering the flames. Next, she turned the foam onto the hairspray canister and her automated arsonist.
She didn't release her death grip on the fire extinguisher until the animatronic resembled a snowman more than the rabbit it was supposed to be. As she lowered the nozzle, the robotic bunny blinked at her several times, trying to clear the foam from its eyes. Madeleine's lips quirked up in response, giggling at the absurdity. The machine had actually looked startled by the sudden change of events. But, then her humor fell away as she remembered that someone must have programmed the animatronic to sabotage her renovation.
"Who programmed you to do this?" she demanded ludicrously. She didn't expect an answer, of course, so she was astounded when it responded.
"What the hell?" the rabbit growled at her with a surprisingly deep voice. He wiped at the froth covering his face and flung it away, splattering both the floor and the wall nearby.
"You talk?" Madeleine gaped in amazement, then she slapped her forehead. "But, of course, you would talk . . ." She smiled up at him. "My hallucinations always talk."
The rabbit seemed to consider her for a long moment, almost as if he were trying to reason her out, but Maddie quickly realized that something like that sounded a little crazy. And, if there was one thing Madeleine Ward was not, that was crazy . . . Leastways, not anymore!
When the green LED light in the animatronic's eyes abruptly flashed red, Madeleine backed up a step.
"Whoa! Hey, did you know your eyes just changed color," she asked him.
The giant rabbit made a snarling sound and lunged for her. Lightning-fast reflexes enabled Madeleine to leap out of range, but only barely. Those same reflexes had her throwing the fire extinguisher at his head in response.
"Oh, sorry," she apologized when the heavy-duty metal cylinder dented the robot's forehead with a loud clanging sound. It fell to the floor, clanging again even louder, the noise echoed a bit in the empty room. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have startled me!"
The banged-up bunny stopped to shake its head. It glared at her and yelled, "You, bitch! I'm going to kill you for that!"
Maddie's mouth dropped open. "Well, that's not very nice. I can see right now that I'm going to have to reprogram your language software."
If anything, the red light in its eyes flared brighter and the rabbit charged her. Finally grasping the danger, Madeleine 'eeped' and ran, darting back into the hallway. Stepping on the discarded fire extinguisher, the animatronic made a similar sound as its feet flew out from under it and it crashed to the floor. Maddie skidded to a halt and peered back in at the clumsy spectacle it made while regaining its feet. She couldn't seem to help the giggle that escaped her at the sight.
"Quit laughing," the rabbit's voice crackled. "We'll see how well you laugh after I rip your lungs out!"
When the robot was back on its feet, Madeleine screeched and ran back in the direction she had come. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she heard the resounding clomping of metal feet on the chipped tile. The sound echoed up and down the hall, making it difficult to judge how close the animatronic was getting. The hallways here all looked alike and there were too many of them! If she wasn't careful, Maddie knew she would get lost.
Gah! She hated to be chased . . . This was too reminiscent of her childhood nightmares, although she couldn't remember ever being chased by a giant rabbit in one of them. This felt too surreal and she wondered if this wasn't just a side effect of her medication or something. Glancing behind her, Madeleine yipped as the animatronic closed the distance between them. She turned right and then left . . . Too many hallways! Tomorrow, she was going to make them tear down more walls, she determined.
The door coming up on her right, Maddie thought, led to the lobby and the front door. Ducking into it, she stumbled to a halt. It was the wrong room! This one was windowless and the only door was the one she had just entered through. She turned to leave and saw the angry bunny barreling down on her. It would catch her!
Panic rose and just as quickly fled as an idea flitted through her brain. She was on the opposite side of the building now . . . And if it didn't stop the rabbit, it should at least slow it down enough that she could escape it. Spinning about she ran to the single piece of furniture the room contained: a table. Madeleine shoved it into position and climbed up onto it even as she dug into her front pocket for the red BIC lighter she had been carrying around with her all day.
The rabbit appeared in the doorway as Madeleine flicked the sparkwheel a few times. A golden flame burst to life, dancing atop the lighter chamber. Lifting the flame toward the ceiling, she held it to the sprinkler head, allowing the sensors inside of it to heat to the required temperature to . . .
"Come on . . . Come on."
Backlit from the lights in the hallway, the rabbit looked creepy as it stepped into the room after her. The only thing visible in the shadows were those red, glowing eyes that Madeleine decided meant that the mechanical animal was pissed off. She refused to feel guilty over the dent in its forehead, however. It was its own fault, trying to burn down her building and then jumping at her like it did. Well, Madeleine always cleaned up after herself. Time to give the robotic arsonist a shower.
Most of the dry, powdery foam had fallen off, causing him to slip and slide at the beginning of the chase. She had almost escaped him but, as he closed the distance, she made a fatal error, ducking into a room that Springtrap knew had no other exits.
He paused in the doorway to gloat. The red light emanating from his eyes gave the room a strange glow, making everything inside look like it was coated with blood. He didn't wonder why she had climbed up on the table. He stalked toward her, determined to end his suffering even as he planned to end her life. The pleasant, electrical thrill skittered through his wiring in anticipation. There would be no way that the city would ignore yet another death here. The building would be demolished before the weekend.
Madeleine raised up on her tiptoes in an effort to get the tiny flame closer to the sprinkler head. What was taking so long? How hot did the sensor need to get before it decided to turn on? She glanced down at the doorway and yelped to see the rabbit standing there, gazing at her with those angry, ruby-red eyes. Its happy grin seemed to bely the murderous vibe it was sending out.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she griped at him, wincing internally. Her mouth was going to be the death of her. There were a lot more productive things she could be doing than encouraging a malfunctioning, 400 lb., animatronic rabbit to kill her faster.
As the rabbit stalked her, Madeleine looked around her for a weapon but found nothing that could help her. Oh, why hadn't she brought her bag of bricks with her? Although, the bricks probably wouldn't have done much when hitting it with a fire extinguisher hadn't stopped it. There was a click from above her and a hiss as the sensor finally activated.
Water sprayed out in all directions, soaking her but, more importantly, drenching her mechanical assailant. Streams of water dribbled into the cracks and numerous holes, and into the exposed wiring . . . As she watched with horrified fascination, the robot's limbs began to jerk and twitch. His head spun around like that little girl's in that Exorcist movie.
Suddenly, sparks shot out several feet from those holes with a loud popping sound. Its right eye rolled around uncontrollably until sparks blew the eye right out of the socket! It hung down from three wires to bounce off its cheek. The red light flickered but didn't go out completely.
Maddie covered her mouth with one hand. A slightly hysterical snicker abruptly escaped her and the rabbit glared at her with its one good eye.
"Do you think this is . . . f-f-fun . . .unny? F-Fun . . . Fu-u-u-unnn . . .e-e-e-eee" the animatronic growled at her in what began as a deep, masculine voice but then, the voice rose several of octaves as it stuttered. "Wanna . . .w-w-wanna have-have . . . H-Hey kids! W-Wanna have s-s-s-some . . .have some . . . so-o-ome f-f-fu-u-u-uuunnnn . . ." The high-pitched voice slowly lowered again as the recording ran down.
She snorted with laughter.
"Shut up! Stop laughing a-a-at m-meee," the rabbit snapped at her in a Mickey Mouse voice. "I'm going to k-k-kill you!"
Madeleine's eyes widened at the threat even as she began laughing harder. "I can't help it! You sound like Porky Pig and Mickey Mouse got together and had a child! It's funny!"
It shouldn't be. She should be terrified, she knew, but the hysterical screaming in the back of her mind was being drowned out by the laughter that was inspired by the absurdity of the situation. She was being stalked by a rusted out, bucket of bolts, that kind of resembled a giant, bad-tempered, Easter bunny on steroids.
The animatronic lunged at her then, and Madeleine just avoided its reaching, twitching arms. She sidestepped it, leapt off the table, and landed in several inches of water at a run. The rabbit broke the table with its weight, nearly falling before it straightened and turned to follow her. Madeleine's boots squeaked and squished as she ran further down the hall. The entrance had to be near here.
A crash had her looking behind her. The maniacal rabbit had just run into the wall. It shoved off of it only to stumble into the opposite wall. It continued to chase her, all the while ricocheting back and forth like a pinball machine. Its eye bounced along to the rhythm, making little clinking noises . . . Her lips twitched up again as another giggle escaped her. The whole thing was just so ridiculous!
She darted through another door and discovered a large room that they had been using to store most of the tables and chairs. The door at the other end, however, Maddie knew, led directly to the lobby . . . and freedom! She still didn't have her purse, but she had her keys and that was enough for now. Behind her, the animatronic missed the door as he skidded comically past in his bid to change directions too quickly.
With a bark of laughter, Madeleine took that as her cue to get a move on. She started maneuvering around the assorted tables and stacks of chairs. The robot clambered into the room like it was on a ship in the midst of a storm. The loss of its eye had obviously distorted its depth perception and balance. It continued to barrel forward after her. Its determination was either from self-defeating stubbornness or something to be commended.
It tripped over a stack of plastic and metal chairs, going down with a loud, heavy crash. It crushed one of the chairs as it pushed itself back to its feet. Madeleine moved faster, going over tables rather than going around them. Everything was shoved so closely together, there was barely enough room for her as it was. She didn't know how the rabbit would be able to get through all this.
It tried, though. Oh Lord, did it try!
Madeleine had to wipe tears from her eyes and she was getting a stitch in her side from laughing so hard. As it was, she was gasping for breath. She jumped from one table to the next to better enable her to circumnavigate the cluttered room. Another crash erupted behind her.
"I'm going to . . ."
"Yeah, yeah," Maddie snorted. "You're going to kill me. I've heard that before. You'd have an easier time of it if you could walk a straight line."
It growled and shoved the table in front of it, shifting everything in the room as a result. Madeleine lost her footing when the table she was standing on jerked suddenly beneath her. She grunted as she sprawled across it in an ungainly heap.
"Who's laughing now," the mechanical bunny snarled at her.
Madeleine climbed to her feet and stepped onto a chair before slinging the door open. She turned and beamed at him brightly.
"I am!" she announced cheerfully as she stood in the doorway, ready to make good her escape.
The profanity that came out of the machine's mouth would have made a sailor blush. Heck, it made her blush! It growled as it began lifting and throwing tables and chairs behind it. It was obviously done with this 'game'. Madeleine watched, mesmerized by its determination as it made its way to her with surprising speed.
"You do realize that this is all for nothing, don't you?" Maddie told it. The animatronic only growled at her. "I'm not going to give up, and I'm not going to go away. This place is my dream."
Suddenly, it was right in front of her, only a table between her and certain death. She lifted an eyebrow. She had faced death before and walked away from it. She would again.
The rabbit's smile looked so happy; its attitude, though – eh, not so much.
"You don't have to g-g-go a-w-way," is said, its voice stuttered, still being affected by the bath it took. "I can kill you and y-y-you can stay here forev-v-ver."
"You can try . . ." Madeleine challenged.
The rotting rabbit lunged across the table, but Maddie had disappeared. It swung around to find her on the other side of the table where the robot had been standing only moments before. When it tried to grab the table and toss it away, as it had the others, Madeleine tugged the table back towards her. It stumbled forward.
Catching the table for the second time, it threw the obstacle aside but, once more, Madeleine had disappeared. It looked down and saw her boots disappearing between its legs. She had crawled between its legs! It spun around in a circle as Madeleine rolled to her feet and raced for the door once more.
The robotic bunny bellowed a staticky roar of fury and lunged at her just as Madeleine slammed the door. The wood rattled violently beneath her hands followed by a loud crash on the other side. Curiosity was simply too much for her. Preparing to dart away if the murderous rabbit was ready to grab her, Maddie opened the door and peeked her head back into the room. The room, though demolished, looked empty. Then movement on the floor caught her eye.
Madeleine looked down to find the animatronic laying on its back. It struggled to regain its feet but couldn't make it but a few inches before rocking back once more. Maddie's eyes widened when she realized that it was stuck . . . like a bug . . . or a turtle on its back.
She snapped her fingers. That was it! In his current position, he looked more like a turtle than a rabbit. The snicker rose up of its own accord. Really . . . She couldn't help it.
It cursed at her, making her blush, but it didn't make her stop giggling. It waved its arms at her, its metal fingers curled into fists as it banged its feet uselessly on the floor. Whatever ability it had to intimidate her was long since lost, probably back when its eye had popped out of place with a crackle and a sizzle.
The giggles grew into outright laughter. If it had been anything but a machine, she might have worried, but it was only wires and gears. After a few moments, Madeleine took a breath and got herself under control. The likelihood that it would understand her words was non-existent but that didn't stop her. Madeleine leaned down over him, until her face was floating right above his but still just out of range of its reaching metallic hands.
"This is my dream - right here, and nothing and no one is going to stop me from reaching it . . . Not even you. So, if you decide to hang around, I'll see you tomorrow, Turtle," Maddie added with a wink and a grin.
She turned on her heel and walked out the door with her keys in her hand. She made a mental note to call Dr. Sigmund about adjusting the medication she was taking. As interesting as the evening had been, the last thing she needed was dealing with hallucination of giant mechanical rabbits with a penchant for murder but neither did she have the time for more therapy sessions.
She was not crazy . . .
She had laughed at him!
Springtrap growled furiously as he struggled for several minutes more before falling back with an annoying metallic clank. He lay there for several long minutes, glaring at the door the woman had just disappeared through with his one good eye while the other continued to peer uselessly somewhere in the direction of his groin.
This was the only time since he was cursed with this existence that his prey had gotten away. He comforted himself with her promise to return tomorrow. He would kill her then . . . IF he could pop his eye back into place, that is. The servo that allowed his eye to move whirred ineffectively in the empty socket. Without it in place, his balance and depth perception was completely shot. Damn it . . . He made a sighing noise, although it sounded more like humming coming from his electrolarynx, or throat-back, as his bastard father had referred to it.
"I. Hate. Her," he groused from his prone position as he began fantasizing about how he would kill her . . . tomorrow.
For the first time in thirty years, Springtrap found himself looking forward to another night of this existence, even if it were only to be able to rip her spinal cord out through her mouth.
For those interested I have a Deviantart account with scenes from Mad Maddie if anyone wishes to check it out [ art/Catch-Me-If-You-Can-700109237?ga_submit_new=10%3A1503328761]
Opinions, thoughts, and constructive criticism always welcomed!