He didn't… he quite understand where he was. Who he was…. What he was. None of these things were clear to him, and no answers seemed to present themselves in the immediate future. Every part of him seemed to be screaming out in pain, his mouth jammed upon to the point of running the risk of being torn apart, but nothing could be done about it.
He allowed one eye to slowly and painfully open and surveyed his environment. It was a room, clearly an old one. The walls were masked with vines and moss, the black and white checkerboard tiles that made up the floor cracked and decaying. Some tiles were outright missing, and large areas of the floor were patched with almost green puddles. The only sound audible in the room was the repetitive drip-drip-drip of water coming from an unknown part of the decrepit and fraying ceiling. The room contained no door, simply a large hole in what had once been the north wall. Or maybe it was the south, it was hard to tell in his current state.
He let his second eye peel open, mechanical grinding sounding out as he did so. Each movement was strained, a behemoth of a challenge, even for something as simple as craning one's neck. He looked to the left, then to his right. To one side of him, sat an animatronic bear suit, rotting away, without any kind of love or care paid to it. The suit may have once been yellow, but now it was much closer to resembling a green colour. Large chunks were simply missing, such as its right hand and sizable portions of its chest, simply having decayed into nothingness. Something about it seemed familiar to the man, but he just couldn't find anything, no matter how much he searched the recesses of his mind.
Appropriately acquainted with his dank, dark environment, he made his first real movement. He reached one arm out, the muscles within it screaming in pain as he did so, and found a crevice where part of the wall had crumbled away. He hooked his fingers in the small hole and started attempting to pull himself up off of the ground. There was a metallic, inhuman sound as he did so, his legs feeling a few seconds away from snapping like twigs, but eventually he was able to successfully force himself into a standing position. He leaned against the wall, heavy breathing rattling every inch of his body. What the hell was he? This could not be normal. It just couldn't be right for him to feel so much pain from such a simple task. His mind was filled with dozens of questions, but no answers. He was sure they were locked somewhere within his brain, but they were unobtainable to him.
His breathing sounding like robotic growling, he took his first steps, as unsurely and timidly as a young child, moving first his left foot forward, bringing it down on the cracked flooring with a thud, then his right. He repeated this simple pattern for around two minutes, the hole coming closer and closer. He reached out his hand and gripped the edge of the hole, fingers curling around the side and breaking off a part of the rubble. Finally, after what seemed like years, he was standing in the hole, looking out into the room on the other side.
It looked like it might have been some sort of concert stage, or maybe diner, at one point in time. A small, wooden stage sat sadly at one side of the room, the material rotting, and no doubt filled with woodworm. The red curtains that hung above it were frayed and filled with holes, a remnant from years, decades even, of regret. Moving away from the stage, tables were overturned, legs having been long since stolen. Yet more puddles coated the flooring of the room, and in the middle, a small child's tricycle sat, a grim reminder of what this place may have once been. It smelt of rot, and decay… and death.
He took another step forward, making his full appearance in the room. Only then did he realise just how tall he was, to the point where he was almost hitting the ceiling. More and more fragmented memories came to him. First, a big brown bear… what could it have been? There was a blue rabbit as well… maybe a chicken too? He remembered cheers and laughter and fire. Like burining. Then, a child. He remembered feeling fear. No, not fear. Pure terror would be a more apt way to describe it. He had done something very bad, that much he knew and he was well aware he shouldn't be describing those memories as positive, and yet… he was. It brought him a great joy to think about, even in his confused and scared state.
He made more progress, following the pattern of left foot forward, then right foot, that he had created back in his starting location, all the while taking in his surroundings. It was a victim of negligence, every wall covered in some form of overgrowth, or decay, the untouched land that was once a bringer of joy, now a desolate wasteland.
A noise caught his attention. The grinding of metallic footsteps against broken tiles, from down a hallway, the origin of the sound remaining invisible for the time being. He cranked his head around, paying no heed to the excruciating pain, to locate the epicentre of the noise. As he stared, the noise began to slowly evolve into a shadow. The shadow of a quite simply inhuman creature, impossible to discern from the mere outline of it. it juttered and shuddered as it moved, what might have been its head jerking forwards and backwards, the sound of mechanical grinding rising in a crescendo, before suddenly coming to a halt, as the being stopped and turned its head a full 90 degrees to stare at the man. The two looked at each other for ten seconds, maybe even fifteen, neither breaking the gaze, until finally the sound began to rise up again, the creature shifting its body with a robotic groan, and gradually moving towards the man. As it drew closer, its appearance became far more visible.
It was far from human, whatever it was. Its head was almost shaped like a bear, its eyes a pitch black, its nose that may have once shined, reduced to being dull and scratched. It was an odd purple colour, and one may have associated the head with a bear, but the same could not be said for the rest of the abomination. A long metal pole, surrounded by a tangle of wires and rusted strings, made up a neck directly below the head, almost as if the bear-like appendage was balanced on top. Beneath the "neck", sat a large rotund torso, a frayed bow tie at the top, and patches of the chest torn out, as if it had been bitten out, replaced by pure darkness. One arm was long, unnaturally long, to the point of being dragged along the ground as the owner walked, an oversized hook, almost like a pirate's, attached to the end. The secondary arm, this one on the left-hand side, was a mere stub by comparison, ending at the elbow with a mass of wires and curled piles of rust. The legs… well, they weren't traditional legs, more like another metallic mess that connected around the hip area to develop into three spindly legs, almost like those you would see on a spider.
Finally, the creature entered the same area as the man, the two still connecting their gaze. As they looked, the abomination's eyes suddenly seemed to burst to yellow life, almost like the eyes of a cat, baring into the man's soul, flickering like a medieval torch. He had no idea what this thing was, but in that moment, he felt a sudden bond with it, as if the two of them were somehow interconnected.
That was when he finally took a look at himself. He was in a suit of some kind, similar to the bear in the starting room, but taller, less detailed and with mounds of flesh buried beneath. It was reached down and coiled around the rusted metallic feet of the suit and came back up. What may have been a rotted heart sat in the middle of the suit's chest, left exposed by the large sections of said suit that had long since withered away. He wasn't human, whatever he was. He was much like the purple monstrosity that stood before him. He had no name, barely any memories and no face.
He brought his creaking hand to his head and felt it. as he expected, it seemed to be some sort of decaying mask. He felt an opening and pulled on it, placing his hand inside to feel the squishy, disgusting flesh that made up his head. In his still disorientated state, he only knew one thing. Be it through a twisted sense of fate, or the gods having something else in plan for him, he was supposed to be dead, but was not.
The Springtrap had made its awakening.