The mother called me Springtrap. She did not come up with that name on her own.

The person that found me in the safe room had first called me that. My guess is that it stuck. I suppose it was only fitting I shed my old name. I'm not human anymore. I did not need any more sustenance nor sleep. I'd accepted that I needed to lose things. My life, my freedom, and now, my humanity. It was also apt, given my current situation. The animatronic springs were not broken enough for me to escape. What had been broken was my hope.

I was bought from one dark room to open air. They had put me in the back of a truck and tied me down so I did not fall off. I didn't care to move at the moment. My animatronic eyes unblinking, I gazed only at the blue and the dots of white cloud that comprised the sky. I should have been more grateful for this long moment of peace. It's funny that regrets seemed to keep on piling on more and more ever since my death.

The sounds of the city faded into sounds much more familiar. The laughter of kids, the barking of dogs. I didn't keep track of time the drive to what had became my new home took. I only recognized that we were now in a quaint little suburban town where families of perfection usually stayed. They stopped in front of a perfect little two story house. 1233 Vaulide Street. It had everything a perfect suburban family ever wanted. A nice driveway, a healthy lawn, a mother, a father, and two daughters.

The very moment I saw them, I awaited for a challenge to hit me. It never did. My urges to kill really were long gone. Dead and buried forever. Another thing lost. Good.

"That thing is a wreck. You shouldn't have bought it."

They transferred me to their master bedroom. That was where I met the father that didn't come to the auction. He took one look at me before deciding instant disdain against my appearance. The mother and father argued for a time about me. The father wanted rid of me, not because of any sort of rumors. To him, I was an eyesore. He was right. The mother wanted to keep me. She told him her mother was there before Fazbear Entertainment bought out Fredbear's Family Diner, back when there were only Golden Bonnie and Golden Freddie. She told him She argued that she wanted to keep the dream alive in her heart and had been to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria when it had reopened for the second time as a child. Her mother adored Golden Bonnie and she adored Bonnie.

The mother had won the argument to the dismay of the father. It didn't matter to me. I would never have that type of interaction with other people anymore. I was just a relic to them. And a relic I had stayed. Unmoving, unthinking. Just watching the days pass by. There was no hope for me.

The children were, at first, suspicious and scared. Their mother had to introduce them to me to get them to warm up to me. I still had barely saw them throughout my unmoving days. They were not allowed within the room I was in.

"Oh... Oh! Honey, they think they found more Freddy Fazbear stuff! I'll be gone for a while!"

They had a computer in their room. I only noticed it when the mother mentioned it. The two argued for a few minutes before the two decided to go together. The children were gone. I was alone. Again.

Freddy Fazbear stuff. I could not help it.

I moved. I turned my head toward their computer. It was shut off. I was still in pain, but I moved again. My curiosity was a horrible thing, indeed. I could not help it. With a prod of one of my animatronic fingers, I turned it on and let it load up. A whole breadth of information was now at the ends of my fingertips and broken mind.

I could not help it. I moved from one prison to another. I was trapped in my own curiosity.

They did not have Lynx. I quickly found out that their internet was Firefox. It was capable of images, sounds, videos. This was all so new to me. What exactly had I missed?

As it turns out... I missed so, so much. I flitted from one thing to the next, researching as much as I could. So much information I never knew about and so many different types of things I had never ever seen before. Facebook, Youtube, a plethora of news websites, a thing called email, an avalanche of a type of thing called social media. I forgot about my pain for one moment. One very long moment. I was... I was so entranced by everything before me. I was nearly too late.

SLAM

"Now, honey, just because it wasn't the entire arcade machine, it doesn't mean you get to be grumpy like this."

My head whipped around to the sound. If I still had a heart, it would have been pounding right now. I still felt panic. I didn't want them to see me like this. I didn't want them to know that I could move. They would dismantle me. They would dismantle me like I dismantled all the other animatronics. The pain returned to my senses as I turned the monitor off and stealthily went back into my position.

They filed a police report. The mother and father had thought someone broke into their house and tried to steal their information. Nothing came of the investigation. Their thief was just too good.

And now, I had something to make the pain temporarily go away. I would gladly drown myself in their internet... become as addicted to it as I could. It helps me forget the pain. I was so desperate to stop feeling it.

I was so desperate.

I was also completely out of the loop. But as the weeks went by, that changed. I became accustomed to everything that I had. I learned the family's sleeping schedule, their job schedule, so much dealing with them. I was paying attention this time. Stay still when they were around, and move when they were gone. There were some hiccups that got in the way of this new routine of mine. Something new I learned was to avoid bad websites that contained viruses that damaged their computer. They threw blame around, not even thinking that it might have been me accidentally stumbling into some very bad places.

But I strove on, continuing to learn which websites were good and which were bad.

"A bunch of shit-eating asslords, if you asked me. Body odor my ass."

It was all fine and good up until that moment. One more mistake. One more regret. I wish I had never found Mike Schmidt's Youtube account. He runs a thing called a "vlog", pronounced "veelog". He had a job working as security at a mall somewhere. Had a different job before that, too. And I felt hope returning to me. He previously worked at a place called Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

I had to contact him. But that was no easy task. I could not use any of my owning family's accounts. I had to be as stealthy as possible, lest there's a chance they found me out. I noted briefly that the urge for the challenge of the perfect crime finally came back. Except that this was not a crime. This was my only chance to depart for good. My one chance at peace.

Weeks more passed as I studied everything I could about Mike Schmidt. The most useful thing I learned was that he had an email he uses for people to ask questions to him that he would answer on his vlog. Only one video was about Freddy Fazbear's. It was him talking abut his night guard job, the only week he was there. In each video, he seemed generally unprofessional, with his overall personality and ability to swear up a shitstorm at times. But that didn't stop me.

I made a new email. One website where the family that owned me wouldn't even know about.

"What do you know about the two golden hybrid suits that Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria once owned?"

I asked him one simple question, and then I covered my tracks and deleted the relevant history. It took nine days for a video featuring my question to be uploaded. Mike's mood was different than the usual. Somber... sad... a little pained. I didn't understand why until he got into it. There was a small warning for the squeamish, but then he continued. Telling the story of my descent into death. I was referred to as "the killer". It makes sense, because I had never been caught.

He was very sad at the deaths of the kids. The deaths that I had caused. I could almost hear them speaking to me, repeating a one word question... haunting me. I panicked a little, gripping my animatronic and trembling a little. No guilt, please... I didn't want to feel any guilt. Guilt was only more pain added to the amount of unbearable torture I was experiencing. I admit, I nearly acted on my panicked urge to destroy the computer monitor.

I merely sat... and watched, barely holding in an outburst. I was somehow panting... no, hyperventilating. All I wanted to do was escape the pain. Here I was, only bringing myself more.

"I listened to all the tapes and had a new chat with Freddy Fright's security. He didn't have much of a job. Fucking place burned down to the ground after six days of him, but he mentioned a Golden Bonnie animatronic suit that was moving like the other ones I mentioned way earlier if you all remembered."

I froze and those words echoed in my head. He had all the tapes... the tapes I never paid any attention to! They survived the fire I created! I had to talk to him further! He knew how to let me free!

"Thank you so much for answering my question. I'm curious to look inside Springtrap. I'll bring him over to your place so you can open him up for us."

His response came from an email, swearing up a storm. Mike Schmidt was surprised that the "family" that bought me had "contacted" him. He was really gung-ho about it and listed a place to meet. I made a plan right then and there. I would escape during the night, make it look like yet another break in... that someone had stolen me. Two nights after, it was time to go meet him. He had experience dealing with haunted animatronics. I should be nothing new to him.

While the mother and father were sleeping, I opened the door to the hallway... coming face to face with a child.

She looked up at me, blinked once, and then screamed.