Hey all, here's chapter 46, it took a while, but it's finally finished.
It is quite big, but there is alot of content to get through and I wanted to put everything into proper focus, without spliting the chapter into different sections as I have done for previous chapters.
There is a song in this chapter and it's 'Nightmare' by NatesWantsToBattle, a very good FNAF song and perfectly suits the emotional themes of the chapter.
Many thanks to AugustFrost12 and ChaoticEngie for your reviews, I always appreciate your thoughts.
If you thought that possessed Goldie was brutal August, then what would a possessed Springtrap be like? ;-)
He wouldn't be as terrifying as possessed Mangle, the idea of having someone bloodthirsty crawling above you is nightmare fuel.
I agree Engie, it was very much the hunters becoming the hunted, although I never noticed the similarity with CoD Zombies until you pointed it out and it makes a lot of sense, hell Cod Zombies storyline is almost as complex as FNAF. (given how many retcons it has had).
I am really glad that COPPA hasn't turned out to be as damaging as it was first feared, the potential loss of so many decent channels was a great concern to everyone involved.
Hopefully 2020 will be a great year for FNAF! :-)
Also, Scottgames has uploaded an image showing the dog from Fetch (2nd Fazbear Frights book), apparently the dog is decades old (1980s), but when activated and given fetch tasks it can connect with your modern-day phone and then things get weird. . .
Finally, I have changed the story's cover image to a drawing of Vincent Afton and the Human Nightmares that a friend of mine kindly did - (maskedhatterdoodles on Tumblr or masked_hatter on Instagram), if you're interested in looking them up.
Unfortunately because of limited size of the cover image, you cannot see Nightmares Bonnie and Foxy. :-(
However, I am gradually uploading this story onto Archive of Our Own, so for the next chapter I will paste in the full image for everyone to see.
This is how I see them.
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so do enjoy.
Apologies for any grammar mistakes that I've missed.
Chapter 46
Into the Unknown.
"Not all those who wander are lost..."
J.R.R. Tolkien
No one knows what death is like, what happens to the human soul when the organs stop functioning or when the eyes roll back in on themselves.
Those who have died, have not found a way to tell us what comes after.
In a more religious sense, the understanding is quite clear, either you go to heaven or to hell, depending on how you've lived your life. Then there is the matter of Limbo, the waiting room for the dead, empty, vacant and seemingly infinite. There is no sense of time, or place, or meaning in this unknown dimension which exists between the real world and the next.
It is an isolated pocket, hovering around the fringes of existence, you think of it as a bubble, but if anyone were to find themselves inside that bubble, then they would learn for themselves that Limbo is endless, no boundaries or limits mark its end.
There is only blackness and silence…nothing else.
The function of this desolate wasteland of the dead was to act as a waiting room for the souls of the deceased, as they were judged for which plane of existence they should pass onto next. Depending on how they lived their lives, a soul's time in limbo could range from one year alone to that of a hundred thousand.
Once their time of judging had passed the soul would go to whether it was directed and that was that…gone…the end. However, not all souls who lingered in Limbo were being judged, others were just stuck. Unable to move onwards to either heaven or hell, because under their own free will they refused to leave, determined to remain so they could finish something which they couldn't in their waking life.
But often enough those souls that refused to move on weren't of the friendly variety…
Yet despite that, they were not the only group of souls that existed in Limbo.
It was a minority, but these souls weren't officially dead yet, they still had a chance as slim as it might be to return to the real world if the right conditions were met. Often because they had the strong will to push themselves through, or had friends who could help guide them back into the embrace of life.
And it is with one of these souls that we start our chapter.
"Spring…don't leave us...not now."
"I love you all….keep…on…smiling….."
Then he let the sweet embrace of enteral sleep overcome him…his eyes slowly closed and his hands relaxed by his side…he stopped breathing.
There was nothing….nothing but cold, heart wrenching silence.
All that he could feel was the sensation of drifting away into the darkness.
Those last few words stayed with him though, echoing about in the dark, shifting in their intensity from a loud scream of sheer emotional desperation to a soft hushed whisper of secrecy.
"So…is this death?" Springtrap asked himself, he couldn't tell if he had a physical form or if his eyes were open or closed. Initially, he couldn't even hear his own voice, it was as if, the feeling of sound had to return to him first.
Everything was far too dark to understand what was going on around him.
Was there even anything around him?
Was he still falling, that was the last thing he remembered feeling once he embraced death.
He couldn't feel anything around him, there was nothing.
He had no sense of direction, he was lost.
"I might as well try to figure out what the afterlife is like," he stated out loud, the only thing which he knew so far was that he could hear his own voice. Slowly he opened his eyes, being wary of what he might encounter, as it turns out there was no need as he was completely alone. Looking around he could see his own hands, feet and body, but surrounding him was pitch blackness, yet he could see himself clearly. He looked up to see if there was a light shining down on him, maybe heaven, that was known in popular culture to hold a bright yellowish light with some iconic golden gates and fluffy clouds.
Expect there was no light above him, in fact there was only more darkness, it was like his immediate surroundings were lit up, but everything else remained hidden from sight.
And of course, being in a situation where you don't know what's going on gets to people and Springtrap is no different.
"Hello!" he called out.
Getting no instant reply, he cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled out in an even higher volume.
"HELLO!"
Still no response from the world of the dead.
"IS THERE ANYONE OUT HERE!"
He tried to move, but found that he couldn't tell if he was moving or not, there was no sense of direction, nothing to act as a landmark.
Everything looked the same.
"Is this death?" he asked, as he spun around on the spot.
He sighed deeply.
"If it is, then I can see why life was so worth living."
Still, he kept on trying to find his way through the surrounding darkness.
"Is it just me in here?" he asked, knowing that he would receive no answer to any of his questions. He didn't understand what was happening, he knew that he was dead, but why was he here in this dark and empty place.
If this was Limbo, the supposed 'waiting room' of the afterlife, then what was it that he was waiting for exactly?
He certainly didn't know, he had some regrets, but they were minor in comparison to others.
He was all alone in this world, just Springtrap.
"I am still here," he whispered to himself as he appeared to drift in the vast emptiness of the void, or at least he got the sense that he was drifting.
"HELLO, CAN ANYONE HELP ME?" he screamed with all his might, he could feel his voice travel, spreading out across the darkness to where he didn't know. Still he kept on drifting ever onwards without know where he was or what his destination is. Just a man with greenish blonde hair, two tall tattered bunny ears, a pair of battered out black shoes, a worn out greenish golden suit which had clearly seen better days with a set of trousers to match.
He attempted several tires to establish communications.
"HELLO, GOD, OR SOMETHING!"
"I'M DEAD SO NOW WHAT!"
"IS THIS IT, BECAUSE IF IT IS, THEN HEAVEN IS OVERRATED."
Yet he got nothing in response, just empty plain silence.
He tossed and turned, but he still didn't get any sense of where he was heading in this dark and lifeless world.
However, all the silence did give him time to think things over.
He didn't regret giving his life to save Goldie, not one bit and he was glad that he was able to get him to safety. He sighed and lowered his head as a thought entered his mind.
"Although it would have been nice for me to have said goodbye to him properly…just once."
Shaking his head, Springtrap knew that now he needed to find out where he was exactly, although he highly doubted his chances of success.
Yet past thoughts and memories kept on coming back to him.
"Welcome kids to Fredbear's Family Diner, home to fun and adventure."
"Well SpringBonnie, what song have we got for today?"
"Oh it's one of your favourites kids, it's the Humpey De Dumpty song, come on let's sing along."
"YAAAAA!"
"Who wants to win a free plushie!"
"ME, ME, ME, ME!"
"I hope this never ends Springs."
"Me too Goldie."
Springtrap smiled to himself, now that he was no longer angry with Goldie anymore he could view the past in a more positive light than he ever could before.
Those were the golden days, when life was predictable without any massive upheaval.
"Happy...days...thee happiest day." He thought to himself, the memory brought a sense of warmth to his body.
Although he was dead, he knew that he had helped to bring those happy days back for the others, give them something to aim at.
His death was not in vain, he knew that to be true.
Still he didn't want to die, but at least he had gotten rid of Nightmare Fredbear, he was a blood thirsty psychopath if there ever was one. One less Nightmare for the others to deal with, plus with Goldie back, they may uncover the rest of the truth.
Springtrap sighed as he floated about in the pitch blackness, he wasn't asking for much but given what he had just done, sacrificing himself for the greater good of his wider family, he at least expected to arrive at the gates of Heaven.
But no, all he got was cold blackness to greet him.
"I'm really loving the reward," Springtrap muttered sarcastically under his breath, although no one would hear him out here.
He attempted once more to get some idea of his bearings, but all he ended up doing was spinning about widely in all directions. The act frustrated him, he didn't like this situation, particularly because he didn't know what he was doing, or why he was here or what was even going on. Yet as he tried to reposition himself, out of the cold, lonely darkness, a soft yet depressed voice called from all directions, surrounding him.
"You know…I'm…."
"Wait, who is that?" Springtrap called, tossing and turning as he tried to pinpoint the voice's owner.
"Who are you?"
The voice appeared to ignore Springtrap's calls for identification, appearing to continue on its own pre-set course.
"I'm not one for romance…..I'm haven't really given it any thought actually."
Then his memory kicked into high gear, with one person coming to settle in his mind, he could see them clearly as if they were right in front of him.
"Mangle…?"
"However...if there was…someone...who I might be interested in...who I thought I could enjoy falling in love with."
"Wait, what are you saying?" Springtrap asked, holding his head in his hands, now he was just confused.
Why was she saying all of this and why was he hearing it?
Was she saying all of this right now, or was this just a memory of sorts?
"I would have chosen you…..I felt…..that we…have a similar backstory and that somewhere….depending on who made the first move that we could light a spark….and see where it goes from there."
That struck him like a lightening blot, he wasn't expecting that.
"I…I…I…I don't understand?"
Why would Mangle want to be with him?
Ok, they got on well, but they were just acquaintances on a conversational level, barely even friends. He certainly didn't see her as anyone special, not to say that he didn't value her as a person.
She along with Freddy had helped to convince him to join with the others and save Goldie.
And before that she had been the only one to come and talk to him after his rampage, she had made the attempt to try and reach out to him. In some case, they did have a similar backstory, they were both rejected and unloved by the company. He had been isolated and kept away from public view, whilst Mangle had been bullied by children and left to fend for herself when the Toys couldn't step in and support her.
"She has been nice to me, she did help me rediscover myself and she was one of many who had attempted to save me from dying," Springtrap whispered to himself, locked within his thoughts.
Of course, how could he forget about that, she was determined like the others to save him, she cared…clearly.
"I'm sorry Springtrap….we're sorry."
Oh yes, she cared, in him she had found someone who knew what it was like to be rejected and forgotten, she had found a kindred spirit.
"I am extremely grateful for her efforts, but I don't see her like that….do I?"
He was surprised that he was even asking himself that very question, he pondered going back through his memories, trying to piece things together.
Yet the voice called out again, disturbing his thoughts.
"Perhaps, once Goldie awakes we can move closer to the truth..."
Not a second later, Springtrap felt something warm and soft being pressed against his forehead. Instinctively he reached up and touched the area, but didn't come across anything physical, yet the warm sensation remained, it felt tender and sweet, rippling out like a tidal wave across his entire body.
Was it a kiss?
No sooner had he thought of it, the feeling vanished completely.
"Thank you SpringBonnie."
And the voice went too, but Springtrap wasn't ready for that.
"Wait…Mangle wait," he cried, reaching out into the surrounding darkness.
"I want to know…why?"
The voice did not return much to his sadness.
"Please…don't leave me here...alone."
There was nothing, but cold empty silence, he sighed deeply and lowered his head.
"Why am I still here?" he muttered and of course in a world as lonely as this, no one answered.
Now only after hearing Mangle's voice, did he truly feel alone.
"Why am I still here?" he asked again, raising his head to the surrounding darkness.
"Give me an explanation, please?" he asked, to the universe at large.
Still no answer, only blackness and silence.
Feeling a well of frustration build up inside him, Springtrap clenched his fists and tilted his head back slightly before venting out his anger.
And boy did he roar.
"WHY AM I STILL HERE, AM I DEAD, OR AM I ALIVE, WHY CAN I HEAR MANGLE, WHAT IS THIS PLACE, WHAT IS GOING ON, SOMEONE GIVE ME AN ANSWER RIGHT NOW, OR I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND IN THIS FUCKING AWFUL PLACE!"
He felt his anger being carried out across the infinite vastness of this place, like a wave washing over the shoreline.
Perhaps something out there in the vast darkness would hear him and grant him the answers which he so deeply sought.
Yet…there was no reply to his cries, just emptiness, it had a bitter feeling.
Springtrap breathed out, venting all of his frustration so he could be calm again, getting angry wasn't helping. This was cruel, beyond sane, he hadn't done anything wrong, rather the very opposite, yet why was he in a place like this?
He couldn't reach any logical conclusion, he tried to see it from a religious perspective, yet even that didn't see to work, as religion tended to be very fixed on a various number of issues.
It was either dark or white, there was hardly any grey areas….apart from one.
"What if, I am still alive, what if I cannot move on, is something or someone keeping me here?" he asked.
Springtrap turned spun around on the spot, thinking his theory over.
"Do I still have a purpose, am I yet to die?"
He turned to face the surrounding darkness.
"WELL…WHAT SAY YOU UNIVERISE, AM I ALIVE OR DEAD?"
No answer as expected.
Deciding to do something about the lack of any commutations, Springtrap attempted to move. Bringing his arms forward, and tucking his legs in, he propelled himself into a swimming position, and thrusted himself outwards into the dark unknown.
Well…he tried to.
"What the!"
He was surprised to see that all his arms were doing was pushing themselves through empty space, air in fact, not moving him forward though. He could feel his legs kick at nothing, just flailing about in open space, not pushing himself anywhere.
He was not moving; all he was doing was making himself look like a complete idiot.
"Good thing no one is here to see this," Springtrap chuckled to himself.
"Or else I would look like a right fool."
"You can say that again and your actions seem rather strange to say the least."
The sudden appearance of the voice called Springtrap to attention, he turned around, seeking the source, only to find nothing.
"At last someone and who are you exactly?" he asked, sounding both desperate for a conversation and relieved that he wasn't alone in this desolate place.
Instantly the voice replied, it was smooth and childlike.
Yet it sounded vaguely familiar to Springtrap and it enquired him on that fact.
"Don't you remember us, Springtrap…from the dream?"
Once again Springtrap's memory was sent into relocation mode, trying to pin an identity to the voice. It sounded so familiar, he had heard it before he was sure of that, but from where. . .the dream world.
Then like a light bulb being switched on, he remembered, the ghost children from the dream world, in which his mind had finally freed itself after trapping itself there.
"It's you, the ghost children whom Vincent killed, isn't it?" he asked, seeking confirmation.
Instead of a reply like last time, he got a flash of bright whitish light, so intense was it in its brightness that Springtrap had to cover his eyes. Once the visual explosion died, Springtrap removed his arms and dropped out of his 'swimming stance', which he had forgotten that he was still in.
He was met with a jaw-dropping sight…
All eleven-ghost children, although they weren't in their traditional ghostly white and transparent forms, they looked life-like…very life-like.
They were wearing normal causal clothes, very outdated clothes mind you, but they had human faces, real hair, and their eyes didn't glow like they would as mere spectres, but instead displayed varying shades of blue, green and brown. They were human and like Springtrap they had left the world of the living, but that had been decades ago for them.
They all bore recognisable characteristics in which Springtrap could use to attach to the individual Fazbears.
Balloon Boy's ghost child for example wore a flat roundish cap and held a balloon, although it looked a bit odd on a girl.
Chica's ghost child held green eyes and had bright sunshine like hair, whilst the Toy Freddy ghost child had bright bluish eyes and light brownish hair, plus his clothes looked more polished, when compared to that of Freddy's ghost child.
Small details, but they meant a lot, given how similar the Originals and the Toys were to one another physically. The Puppet ghost child was easily recognisable by means of its black hair with the iconic purple tears' marks craved down its face, although the ghost's gender was unmistakably that of a boy. Slowly, the Puppet ghost child approached Springtrap, effortlessly gliding through the air, or rather space between them, quickly closing the gap.
The Puppet ghost child held a mixed expression of joy and sadness on his face and his eyes seemed to be unreadable when they locked with Springtrap's greenish grey.
"Hello Springtrap," he said, his voice was calm, inviting, but there was an undertone of sorrow to it, that made Springtrap feel uneasy. "Welcome to Limbo, to the enteral night, the roaming fields of the dead."
Then they lowered their head, now looking more sad than happy. "We are happy to see you again, although not in these circumstances."
"We're sorry that we couldn't prevent your death, you didn't deserve this fate, and nor did they deserve to lose you."
The Puppet ghost child then approached Springtrap, cutting close to his personal space.
"All this time, we trembled in fear at the mere sight of anyone that slightly resembled the evil bunny man that lead us away to our graves."
"And in our fear, we lashed out in our rage."
Then the Puppet ghost child looked up to face Springtrap directly.
"However, seeing your acts of sacrifice and heroism against such monsters and our murderer, gives us some small comfort that the image of SpringBonnie might be cleansed of the Purple Man's taint one day."
Yet despite their warm words, they looked crestfallen and their eyes were now filled with sorrow. "Yet, it matters not, we are resigned to the coldness of the void, bound to the physical plane through unwilling vessels. . ."
"All we can do is hope that this nightmare ends, and it can only end, when we are able move on, but we can't, for the Purple Man remains beyond our reach."
Immediately Springtrap knew what or rather who they were referring to, with the 'Purple Guy' really being Vincent Afton. However, there was much that he didn't know about the past thirty years. Goldie and the others had filled him in on a lot of details, but there was still much which he didn't know or fully understand. Yet from his observations it was clear that Vincent had inflicted a great deal of pain on everyone ever associated with Freddy's, especially the children who he had killed in cold blood and were now trapped in an endless cycle of agony, vengeance and despair.
How could one man deliver so much pain and why?
Springtrap sighed internally, he had no way of gaining answers for his questions, and even if he asked the children's spirits, they wouldn't know much, probably only recalling the day of the deaths and maybe a few other moments in the afterlife.
The ghost child of Goldie sighed and lowered his head, allowing his dark golden hair to fall over his eyes. His mournful sighs immediately caught Springtrap's attention, as well as that of the other ghost children. "We are broken, lost, afraid. We've been stuck in this state for so many years. We cannot control anything other than possess someone or something, and even then, we do not have full control of our emotions, in our earlier days as ghosts, we often lashed out."
He lowered his head even further and started to cry.
"We're monsters, striking out at anyone we found."
"We've killed so many people because we wanted justice and thought that they were him," he sobbed, covering his eyes so that the others couldn't see his tears, however his despair was obvious to everyone.
"WE'RE CONDEMNED!" he wailed uncontrollably. Another ghost child, presumably Foxy's turned and hugged him tightly, silencing his cries as he fell into the warm embrace of brotherly comfort.
"No, we're not condemned, there is still hope for us," the Foxy ghost child whispered, comforting the Goldie ghost child, with his words having an positive effect. Springtrap stared in disbelief, his eyes darting from one ghost child to the next, seeing their despair and emptiness. Murder, children killing people and possession, he was certain that no one had told him about this part of the Fazbear's past. This was news to him, his mind was blown and for children to commit such horrific acts, it was unbelievable.
Yet they had been forced into that terrible position by the cruellest of people. It just occurred to him that there was a lot which he didn't know about the ghost children individually, in fact, he had only just worked out that ghost children were related to the Fazbears by that of their clothing, let alone their actual names.
"Listen, I never got the chance to ask…nor was I ever properly told, but what precisely is your connection to the Fazbears?"
That unearthed another untapped series of questions in his mind that linked together to form a complex spider's web.
Yet his question had caught the entirety of the ghost children's attention, everyone was now focused on him, even Goldie's ghost child had stopped his muffed cries. The ghost child who looked a lot like the Puppet, who Springtrap had already guessed to be the leader, cleared his throat before speaking.
Seeing how it had been a ghost for the longest out of all of them, it made sense for it to be in charge.
"We…" he began softly, although he sounded wary.
"We were killed by the Purple Man, the one everyone else calls Vincent Afton, by someone whom everyone thought to be a trusted member of staff."
The pained look in his eyes were clear for Springtrap to see, resonating with his own feelings of immense pity for these broken souls.
"By someone we blindly trusted with our safety."
He started to walk, that's right walk on empty space, wandering around the stationary Springtrap, his voice still sounding wary and on the brink of despair.
"Our world changed forever that day, we were plunged into the cold darkness of death, lost, scared, and of course angry at the injustice of it all."
"We had no idea what to do, of how to escape our prison."
"Then we found a way out, well we thought that we had. . ."
He spun round to face Springtrap, now glaring at him with a cold stern expression, gone was the child like features.
His voice had also changed, becoming more direct and dismissive.
"In our blind rage and sorrow, we killed the nightguards mistaking them to be Vincent Afton, we didn't think, we just acted, regardless of who they were."
"They would beg for us to spare them, swore to us that they were innocent, but we didn't see them as we really were, in their place we only saw SpringBonnie laughing mockingly at us, provoking us to embrace our collective bloodlust."
"Our hands were covered in blood, but we didn't care, not until we had a long quiet period there was no way we could satisfy our bloodlust, but instead reflect to the pass time until the day mister Afton returned."
"And now the night guards in turn have returned for their vengeance in force, although they've probably been trying to come back for years," the Toy Bonnie ghost child said sorrowfully, hugging herself.
"If they find out how to return to the physical plane, then they will come for us, thirsting for our enteral demise."
"Not if we can convince them to let go of their hatred of us and redirect it towards the Purple Man, Rachel convinced one of them to forgive us," the Freddy ghost child exclaimed eagerly, turning to face the Toy Bonnie ghost child.
The one now known to Springtrap, as Rachel moved about on the spot as she looked back and forth between her brethren.
"Only just though, I thought that he was going to hand me over to his companions, he had every reason to, even though I apologised to no end for my cruel actions," she muttered regretfully.
"I fear that we won't be able to save them all, their bloodlust maybe too entrenched within their souls for them to see the light."
She lowered her head and spoke softly, but with a pained tone.
"Even though it is our fault for why they ended up that way."
"A tragic case of mistaken identity," the Puppet ghost child added, his voice was a mixture of both regret and subtle anger, probably both originated from his sense of deep shame for luring more people into the dark.
Only the more he spoke, the more evident his anger became, outshining any other tone, until it had become dominant in his expression.
"That vile, cold hearted man, he's the cause for everything and he's never shown any remorse, alone regret for his actions."
"I just want to know where he is so I can possess Puppet, before driving a stake into his heart and watch him bleed out for hours on end," he hissed fervently, as his hands quickly turned into fists.
Then the Puppet ghost child's tone became even angrier and hate filled, as he moved towards Springtrap, making him feel a little unnerved.
"Had we mistaken you for being him, you wouldn't be here, instead you would be in a place of fire and brimstone…you know of what I speak," he uttered coldly, his burning desire for revenge was very evident in his expression as his eyes seemed to pierce Springtrap's very soul with a knife. Springtrap's eyes widen, as he saw that the other ghost children all possessed the same look, angry, cold and stern, there was no kindness in their eyes which had once stood supreme.
"Wait, what, a lookalike me killed you all, I don't understand, I wasn't present at the time, let alone conscious," Springtrap protested, declaring his innocence.
"We know, but you do bear a strong likeness to him," Toy Bonnie's ghost child replied, plainly, although her expression of anger didn't change.
"Very strong. . ."
She broke away from the others and started to move around him, circling Springtrap like a shark.
"Don't worry, we will not hurt you, to tell you the truth, we think, judging by our own memories that this other version of you was a suit, one which Vincent wore."
"But if you think, another version of me is what killed you, then how to you know it was Vincent, I mean we all know that now, but what was your evidence?" Springtrap asked, turning around on the spot to try and catch a glimpse of her as she passed him by.
"He confessed to the Fazbears and indirectly to us, one day he just turned up out of the blue and admitted it, the whole thing, although he made sure that the Fazbears couldn't stop him from leaving, he always thinks one step ahead."
The ghost child of Bonnie sighed with frustration as she kept on circling him.
"Hence why we are still in this mess and it is 2015 already."
"He just confessed and that was it?" Springtrap asked, he found this all to be very confusing.
"To be fair, we suspected that it was him, but we could never prove it to be the case, unlike the Puppet's ghost child, we didn't see him, only a lookalike to you with a knife, even the voice was different, he made sure that he couldn't be tracked," Mangle's ghost child stated, flying about with her bright yellow eyes burning away in the darkness.
"Ever since then, we've always been wary of him, our emotions influenced the Fazbears, both the Originals and then the Toys, they became more prone to sudden mood swings."
A sigh of remorse emitted from the ghost child of the Puppet.
"Vincent is cunning, even though I knew it to be him, I could do very little to stop him."
"How, why not attack him outright and kill the bastard?" Springtrap asked, eyeing, to him that seemed to be the most obvious choice of action, quick and descive.
Yet the ghost child shook his head in dismal.
"What would it do, but get Puppet into trouble, I was out of my depth back then as was she, more than me though I think. I was still very emotional and a number of occasions I nearly made the Puppet lash out at the worst of moments, neither of us had any hard proof, nothing would stick, even when the Puppet told the others everything she knew, which they didn't take very well mind you."
He muttered something low under his breath.
It sounded like something along the lines of them trying to kill her.
However, the Bonnie ghost child spoke up.
"Yes, they were very angry at her for having held the truth from them for so long, and when I mean angry, I mean murderous and enraged, I seriously think that without Goldie's intervention they probably would have killed her right there and then."
"But it was only with Vincent's confession that everything was proven to be correct, there was no longer any lingering doubt over the killer's identity, although he didn't tell them why he did it, much to their cries for answers and an explanation."
"He enjoyed seeing their distress as he refused to give an explanation for his murderous acts."
Then the Puppet ghost child, spun round and faced Springtrap, although its expression was no longer stern it was still quite serious.
"We are talking about a man, who knew how to play pretend, to look normal on the outside, compared to what he really is inside."
"Act one way, when you're really the other. . ."
"Manipulation,"was all Springtrap said darkly, he could picture it now, Vincent Afton acting as a normal employee at Freddy's in front of everyone, while seeking to gain people's trust so he could exploit it for his dark and murderous intents.
A true wolf in sheep's clothing and a crafty one at that, although Springtrap would hate to commend him for his cunning.
"The trail has probably gone cold, he was able to cover his tracks well and we cannot find him, but he always seem able to find us," the Puppet ghost child said, with a tone of frustration, although the word frustration might be an understatement.
His hands tighten to become fists as his eyes narrowed, clearly, he was getting angry.
"He's been allowed to walk free, while we've been trapped here for God knows how long!"
Springtrap could easily sense that the child was in deep distress, so he tried to offer comfort.
"Surely, he can make a mistake, slip up, he isn't infallible," Springtrap stated warmly, although he tried to sound direct as well to make his point known. He could see their discontent, their rage, their sorrow, all melting together and threatening to become an emotional maelstrom.
"If he so good at luring you into a trap, then why not try and do the same to him, why not try searching for him?" Springtrap asked curiously.
Suddenly the ghost child of the Puppet broke through into his personal space, his eyes were ablaze with rage.
"DON'T YOU THINK WE EVER TIRED, WE DID EVERYTHING WE COULD TO BREAK OF THIS CURSE, TO FIND SALVATION, ALL WE FOUND WERE MORE DEAD ENDS, DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE TRAPPED IN THE DARK AND TO BE DEPREIVED OF ANY HOPE!"
There was moment's silence, as the bright eyes of the ghost child of the Puppet continued to burn with a hatred that seemed to borderline madness.
Then Springtrap responded, speaking in a calm manner, but there was an undertone of sternness in his voice as he stared the Puppet ghost child down.
"I do know what it is like, to be chained, imprisoned, trapped within your own madness, it is all you can feel, in the end it all comes rushing out and makes things much worse than they already were."
He had after all been trapped in a coma and had almost descended into madness by the time, he stumbled upon the solution to escaping his own torment. He had only been out of it for a few days and the memories were still quite fresh.
The Puppet ghost child's expression slowly dropped, relaxing even as his feelings turned from anger to confusion, then to realisation and finally mournful regret.
"I'm…I'm…" he mumbled, backing away.
"I'm sorry for…that…I shouldn't have…that was wrong of me. . .I overreacted."
He started to physically shake, adding more to his overwhelming sense of shame for his behaviour.
"The memories, the pain still lingers, I'm sorry. . ."
Seeing how the child was in clear distress, Springtrap slowly reached out and placed his hand on his shoulder. He was visibly surprised that it didn't fall through, but instead remained steady for the boy was as physical and as real as he was.
"What happened to you was in indescribable, it was beyond tragic and it is, I am not angry at you, you have every right to feel enraged," he said softly.
The ghost child sniffled, continuing to look regretful.
"I…I…I... know…I know," he replied mournfully.
He started to cry under the immense embarrassment of lashing out for no justifiable reason, but Springtrap quickly pulled him into a hug, muffling his cries.
"It's ok, it's ok, you're unsure of what's going on, you've suffered a lot, your angry, I get it and I'm angry too."
The ghost child just buried his head into Springtrap's chest, seeking warmth and comfort, it reminded Springtrap of his dream, with the two of them being on top of the burning makeshift platform surrounded by walls of ravenous flames. "I'm…I'm scared," the Puppet ghost child whispered, his entire body was now trembling. Springtrap said nothing, but continued to hug him, slowly looking back to see the sad mournful expressions of the other dead children.
"We are all scared, we are on our own here in the dark, the freedom we have here is only an illusion."
Springtrap could read their faces, they hated it here, they had been stuck here for decades, mere innocent children, taken away from the world in an unjustifiable act.
They wanted to leave, but they couldn't leave, not while their killer remains at large.
"You want to be free," Springtrap muttered, it wasn't a question, but more a statement of fact.
"Free of all of it, everything, we hate it here, it is never-ending," the Puppet ghost child whispered, although his tone was shaky and low. Seeing how the reality of their terrible situation was bringing them down, Springtrap decided to change subject, there was something which he was genuinely interested in.
"Hey," he began, patting the Puppet's ghost child on its shoulder.
The boy slowly looked up to meet care filled grey greenish eyes.
"Do you have a name; can you remember it?"
The boy's eyes appeared to look upwards as if he was trying to remember, his mind was probably stumbling its way through foggy memories, memories of another life that was long gone.
"Mom, why can't I stay at Fredbear's, they're still playing?"
"Honey, you have school tomorrow and besides Fredbear and Springbonnie properly have their own lives to live."
"What do you mean?"
A soft, feminine hand came down and lightly patted his hair in a loving gesture.
"You'll understand when you're older Charlie."
Charlie…his name was Charlie…
"Charlie, my name is Charlie," the ghost child muttered, feeling surprised at the result, it was as if he was discovering this for the first time.
Springtrap smiled warmly.
"Charlie, that's a nice name, who exactly?" he asked curiously.
Charlie mentally searched for his surname…but he couldn't remember, his memory was too foggy, his ability to recall things had faded away over time.
He was just simply Charlie
"No," he sighed, regretfully.
"I cannot remember much…only the time leading up to my death."
Springtrap pitied him, to only remember one's demise was tragic, but given its impactions, it clearly overshadowed everything else about the boy's life. He slowly turned to face the other children, who had noticeably drawn themselves closer to Springtrap.
"Can you all remember your names, who you once were?" he asked, shifting from set of eyes to the next. They all nodded slightly, but they looked quite unsure.
"I am Susie," the Chica ghost child pipped up.
"I'm Sammy," the Toy Freddy ghost muttered, looking unsure, unable to tell if what he was recalling was real or not.
"I'm Emma," the Bonnie ghost child whispered, clasping her hands close to her chest in a peaceful manner.
"I'm Jeremy," the ghost child of Mangle stated in a confident manner.
"I believe I was a Charlotte," the ghost child of Toy Bonnie said, visibly confused over her identity.
"I am Gabriel," the ghost of Freddy commented.
"I was called Fitz," the ghost child of Foxy muttered, sounding unsure.
"My name is Thomas I think," the ghost child of Goldie said quietly.
"And I am Cassidy," the ghost child of Toy Chica whispered, coming across as disoriented, as she spiralled about on the spot.
"I am Rachel…but my surname escapes me," the ghost child of Balloon Boy's mumbled, clearly struggling to find her words, let alone her memory.
"I cannot remember much; I can't even recall my own mother's face, let alone my father's."
To Springtrap, this was ground-breaking, he couldn't even begin to imagine a life after death, your past life would fade away from memory and our current occupation would creep in and take its place. "I am in your world, yet I can barely understand the sorrow which you have undergone," he whispered, he was surprised that despite being out here for so long, madness it seems hadn't settled in…yet.
Suddenly Charlie appeared in front of him, his sudden appearance out of nowhere took Springtrap by surprise, even without the traditional ghostly transparent design.
"Well, you want to know about our sorrow, there is no need to speculate, we can show you, in first person."
Springtrap instantly raised his eyebrows, he didn't like where this was heading.
"Wait, what?" he asked, clearly astounded by the boy's words.
Charlie reached out with his hand, Springtrap backed away…while he tried to, he still hadn't worked out the means to move properly. Charlie with one hand, grabbed Springtrap firmly by the shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks.
Well…to be fair, Springtrap wasn't even moving to begin with.
With his other hand, Charlie slowly placed it on Springtrap's forehead.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Springtrap demanded, he didn't agree to this.
Yet, Charlie didn't stop in what he was doing, maintaining a calm expression as he pushed his hand into Springtrap's head in a steady manner.
"You cannot know the depth of one's sorrow, until you have experienced it for yourself."
"Wait, hang on, I didn't ask for this treatment," Springtrap protested, trying to break free, but found the child's grip to be as strong as solid steel.
Charlie merely shock his head, as the other children closed in around the two.
"I know you didn't ask for it, but you need to know, to truly understand our pain."
Springtrap felt a strange sensation wash over him, his head, his mind started to spin, his vision began to blackout, or to put it more correctly his vision start to fill with bright whiteness.
"The common phrase is suffer not little children," Charlie muttered coldly, his facial expression slowly morphing into one of immense anger.
Gone was the child like innocence, now replaced by malice and rage.
"But suffer…we did."
Then Springtrap blacked out completely, with his mind tumbling deep into the unknown.
(Begin song here).
We see Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria at night in the early 1990s, it is rundown and decaying.
"Just sleep, just dream."
Its rooms are dark and desolate.
"Just sleep, just dream. . ."
Nothing good dwells within its walls.
We see the lone figure of possessed Freddy, mindlessly wandering through its halls.
"Just sleep, just dream. . ."
His hate filled eyes tell a thousand stories.
We see the tear streaked ghost of Charlie outside Fredbear's Family Diner.
We then see the ghosts of Gabriel, Fritz, Emma, Susie, Thomas within Freddy's Pizzeria.
It is then followed by the ghosts of Sammy, Rachel, Charlotte, Cassidy and Jeremy within the Toys' Pizzeria.
We then see possessed Bonnie aggressively searching for the elusive 'Purple Man'.
"In the back of my mind, I was trying to chase a monster this whole time."
She sees her blood covered hands.
"But I couldn't see the monster was me, and no one heard our cries."
Sorrow has been replaced by anger.
"Now I've run out of tears."
There's no peace in death.
"The time's come for me to disappear."
Only pain and darkness.
"Get me out of this mess and away from this stress."
She screams in bloodcurdling anguish.
"Set me free so I can rest!"
We see the children's' ghosts covered in blood.
"We're only kids who lost our way!"
Hope doesn't exist.
"But if we wait long enough then we'll be saved!"
The years blend into one.
"Just sleep, just dream!"
They act out aggressively through their mortal vessels.
"This isn't fair, no we're not just what we seem."
They're chained until the end of days.
"We want to fly, but our souls are trapped inside."
Feeling nothing but pain, sorrow and fear.
"It's not a game not to play, we're forced to hide."
There is no inner peace.
"Just sleep, just dream!"
It's a boundless nightmare.
"It's only a nightmare and soon we'll be set free."
The faces of the children flicker amidst the static of the camera feed.
"And soon we'll be set free. . ."
Childish laughter fills the air, while murderous eyes glow in the dark.
We then see possessed Mangle staring at the nightguard through the open door of the security office.
"And I've been crying out for help."
Tortured feelings rage inside.
"I know I bite, but I mean well."
She gives off a pleading expression.
"Can you see my disguise, I'm different inside, can you break this spell?"
Yet anger is surging throughout her body.
"Now the ghosts from before, they're knocking and breaking down your door."
She reaches out for the nightguard.
"So please set us free, now you have the key."
Suddenly, she lashes at them viciously.
"Cause I can't take the pain no more!"
We see the twisted forms of the children's ghosts.
"We're only kids who lost our way, but if we wait long enough then we'll be saved."
Hope is fading.
"Just sleep, just dream!"
Their vessels groan and scream.
"This isn't fair, no we're not just what we seem."
Their living tombs seem inescapable.
"We want to fly, but our souls are trapped inside."
Feeling nothing but abandonment and vengeance.
"It's not a game not to play, we're forced to hide."
No sleep, just restless dreams.
"Just sleep, just dream!"
A never-ending nightmare.
"It's only a nightmare and soon we'll be set free."
We see all eleven children alive and happy at the pizzeria.
Then we see the spectre of SpringBonnie standing over them, with their bodies being pale and lifeless.
We see the children within their Fazbear vessels, surrounded by savaged bodies of dead nightguards.
We then see the dead nightguards having possessed prop suits, twitching and moaning as they stand.
The children look twisted and dark.
The scene changes again, and we see Vincent Afton as SpringBonnie towering above them all like a puppet master.
The murderer, his victims and their own, all tangled up together in a complex web of blood and misery.
It is like a labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no hidden prize.
Just a path that leads you deeper and deeper into the abyss.
"We're only kids who lost our way!"
Salvation is fleeting.
"But if we wait long enough then we'll be saved!"
Anger morphs into sorrow.
"Just sleep, just dream!"
They've become what they've despised.
"This isn't fair, no we're not just what we seem."
Spirit and vessel bound together.
"We want to fly, but our souls are trapped inside."
Constantly living in fear and rage.
"It's not a game not to play, we're forced to hide."
There is no ability to rest.
"Just sleep, just dream!"
Freedom has become an illusion.
"It's only a nightmare and soon we'll be set free."
They've embraced the nightmare.
(Song ends).
Springtrap let out an almighty scream, as his mind ached from the immense mental strain as the life like images left him.
It took him a few seconds to recognise his surroundings, searching around from left to right in a frenzied fashion.
He found that he was back in Limbo with the ghost children, not in the pizzeria and seeing the various bloodcurdling acts that the ghost children had committed through the Fazbears. Then there was the unbearable sorrow and pain of being left in the dark, hoping that someone would come and free from their torment. It never came and with the absence of hope, slowly the children succumb to their collective desire for vengeance, becoming bloodthirsty, with the act of killing being a form of relief from their inner despair.
Even if the feeling of sweet satisfaction only lasted temporary, before the chronic agony of loss returned, the act alone was worth it.
Yet Springtrap was surprised that they were still able to hold themselves together despite being trapped in a constant cycle of sorrow and anger.
Surely being trapped in that state for over three decades would have sent them spiralling into madness.
"How…how did you...find the strength... to continue?" he asked fervently, gasping for breath.
Charlie approached, pushing past the other ghosts.
"In the darkness of death, our anger became our strength, it was married uneasily with our humanity, well…"
Charlie sighed and looked away for a moment, starting briefly in the surrounding darkness.
"What's left of it, considering the amount of blood that we have spilled."
"Then how to do you know that you can win?" Springtrap asked, wanting to know more.
By now having fully recovered, he turned to meet each ghost child in the eye.
"If Vincent has been hiding for all these years, if there is no hard evidence to convict him, and if he has allies in the form of nightmares?"
The ghost child of Chica, now known as Susie spoke up.
"We no longer believe in justice, we take the rules into our own hands now."
"And even with his nightmare friends, Vincent cannot hide from us, they have their weakness, everyone does," Jeremy added, the ghost child of Mangle.
"It's only a matter of time," Sammy sneered, being the ghost child of Toy Freddy.
"And we've been holding out for years," Emma muttering, her purplish red eyes, symbolising her identity as the ghost child inhabiting Bonnie.
"We can wait a little bit longer."
She turned to meet him, eye to eye.
"With Vincent dead, only then can we be free…truly free."
Then her voice took on a more heartfelt tone.
"And with your help Springtrap, we can finally make our freedom a reality."
"How exactly?" Springtrap asked, sounding quite confused, to him there was no obvious path of returning to the land of the living. "I am dead, just as you are," he said plainly, pointing to himself, as if Emma was mistaken in her belief that was a way that he could be useful in this situation.
He couldn't figure out how to move for a start.
Emma however merely shook her head, giving Springtrap a small reassuring smile. "You're not quite officially dead, like we are, you are a unique situation, your soul is actually still attached to your body and Charlie here has an extraordinary gift."
"Through him and Puppet, we were able to physically remain after having left our old bodies."
Yet Springtrap objected, he couldn't see the link.
"I am dead, I left my body when I ended up in here and you are also present, this is Limbo, the waiting room for dead. Unless I possess something there is no way back for me," he said, expressing his disbelief and confusion. Not that he wanted to remain in this place if he was given the choice, but as far as he knew, all he could do was wait for some higher being to pass judgement on him.
"Giving gifts, giving life," Charlie muttered under his breath, he now sounded stoic, but there was an undertone of regret as he spoke.
"It was done with the best of intentions, but it ended up spiralling far out of my control and I made "Puppet felt terrible and she hated herself."
"She hated herself so much and seeing the horror that we had unleashed, she tried to. . ."
His voice trailed off, but the deeper meaning of his words was evident to everyone else, even Springtrap understood the dark reality of what Puppet was facing, given what he had just been shown by Charlie.
He then turned back to face Emma.
"How you return me to my original body, even so, won't it be rotting and useable?" he asked slowly, pushing aside his doubts.
"If I were an animatronic, then we wouldn't be having this problem."
"True, that would be easier to deal with, however, you've been dead for about a day and with Charlie's ability and our combined strength, we have an opportunity to bring you back fully," Emma answered excitedly.
She then gestured to the darkness surrounding them.
"It was just a matter of finding you in this vast place."
She chuckled and for a second, Springtrap swore that he heard Bonnie in her laugh, could they and the Fazbears rub off one another?
"And besides, it would be tragic, for you to really go, seeing how you've only just got back after a very long sleep."
Springtrap sighed cheerfully, with his eyes expressing delight at the prospect. "Well going back would be nice, a second chance is great and all, to patch things up with Goldie and to draw a line in the sand about our past is something that I would certainly look forward."
He raised his hand to catch their attention, before they tired do anything else to him.
"However, before I go back to the world of the living, I want to know how you can move, just pure curiosity, since I've been incapable to do so since arriving here?"
The ghost children all looked at one another, with shock and surprise being their collective expression.
It was an odd thing to ask, given all that had just happened, it seems to be so out of place given the situation.
However, they answered, with Charlie being the one to speak.
"Well, you just move by using your mind, just imagine it, the stronger your will is, the move likely it'll happen, that's how we learnt, although it wasn't easy to understand at first."
Springtrap closed his eyes, just one go, what could the harm be.
"Move, move, move forward," he mentally muttered to himself.
"Move…move...move."
He then opened his eyes to find that…he was moving…a bit too fast though, in fact it was more like racing forward into the deep unknown. He looked back to see the ghost children flying after him, being mere distant spots of lights.
No one had told him that you had to imagine your own speed limit too, this was Limbo, it shouldn't be that complicated.
"Ok, looking back, this was probably too much to ask for," he muttered, fully realising his error.
Even though everything appeared to be the same, he could tell that he was moving, judging by the fact that spots of light which were the ghost children kept on changing as they struggled to match his speed. "How do I stop exactly?" Springtrap called out, his voice struggling to reach across the vast divide that separated them. One of the ghost children, possibly Jeremy replied, but Springtrap struggled to make any sense of his words, then they all started to shout.
Something along the words of…
'Look…out!'
The words confused Springtrap, what else was there out here, this was Limbo, its space was infinite.
Nevertheless, he turned…and saw why the reason for their warning. Because coming of the pitch darkness right before him was a house, the windows were closed, as was the door and the lights were not on. Naturally, this sort of development would bring up many questions, but Springtrap only had enough time to voice his opinion.
"Oh shit!"
He slammed into the house's side, not hitting one of the many windows, but impacting right into the wall with a solid crunch.
The children finally caught up with him but were able to stop in time from hitting the house themselves. "You could have told me how to stop when you informed me on how to move properly," Springtrap muttered, as he pushed himself out of the wall, which appeared to have taken no damage whatsoever.
"We tired," Emma shrugged humorously.
"We can't say that we didn't try."
"Thanks," Springtrap muttered sarcastically under his breath, as his body recovered from the initial shock.
Now he took a good look at what he had just crashed into.
It was definitely a house, two floors roughly, with each one sporting about five windows. Springtrap looked around, it was just a house, floating about in the darkness of Limbo.
Why it was here of all places?
Curiosity instantly took hold, the house seemed to emit a sense of mystery that pulled at Springtrap's desire to explore.
"What could you possibly hide," he whispered, gripping the outside window frame so he could pull himself into a better position to see what lay inside.
At first, he thought that the window he was looking in was foggy, so he rubbed on the panels with his hand, but nothing changed, he then realised that the window wasn't foggy, but that the lights inside were not on, preventing him from seeing anything. Slowly, he gripped the window's underside and pulled with all his might, at first it didn't move, but gradually it shifted upwards, grinding against its internal gears as Springtrap forced it open all the way up.
He peered inside, looking around.
Immediately he was greeted with a dusty smell, letting him know that this place was old. From what he could spy out in the darkness confirmed that this place hadn't aged well. He could see three corridors at most, one which lead up towards the left and the opposite one heading right, both had windows decorating the side that he was on.
The third corridor was right in front of him, leading away from the row of windows into the darkness…into the bowels of the house.
Everything looked dusty, with the greyish wallpaper looking very old, its wear and tear was telling its age, whatever colour it originally sported seemed to have faded away with time. There were various mini tables posited at certain points along the corridors, some with a lamp, others with a book or two and some with nothing.
Above all, it was quiet, too quiet and that caught Springtrap's attention, it made him feel nervous.
"Interesting," he muttered, still feeling the desire to explore, there was something about this house that was drawing him in.
"This is a bad place."
He turned around, to see all the ghost children, standing a fair distance away from him.
"A very bad place, there's a cold nasty vibe to it," Charlie stated cautiously, yet he held a serious look as the other ghost children huddled behind him.
"This house is not empty, even though it may appear to be."
"And how do you know that?" Springtrap asked curiously, but it came out wrong, as he sounded blunt as he spoke.
Charlie's eyebrows narrowed at the sense that he was being challenged.
"We can sense it, there's something evil in there, and I don't fancy going inside, not in a million years," he replied sharply.
"And do you know why this house is evil?" Springtrap asked curiously, turning back to look inside again.
"I do not know why, but I can sense it, for whatever reason this house is not welcoming to strangers and you are trespassing if you go inside," Charlie answered, his voice was cold, but he spoke from conviction. Springtrap sighed, lowering his head, Charlie was right, he was knowledgeable in such things having been a ghost for thirty odd years…it was time to return to the physical plane.
He looked up and…
Wait…was what that…over here…on the wall.
Narrowing his eyes to get a better look, Springtrap spied a framed picture on one of the far walls.
The picture showed a child, a boy of about ten, in a greyish looking t-shirt with blue trousers and judging by his expression, he didn't seem to be overwhelmingly happy to be here. Yet that wasn't what had caught Springtrap's attention. Behind the boy was a stage on which stood Goldie, although he was more in his old Fredbear clothes with the usual golden suit and the purple top hat and bowtie to match.
And what made it even stranger was that Springtrap himself was there on stage alongside him, playing his banjo.
Plus, the whole scene looked unrecognisable, he didn't recognise the kid, nor did he recognise the surroundings, there was something inscribed below the picture on its wooden frame.
He could just about make some words, with it reading as:
'Happy Days at Fredbear and Friends'.
Fredbear and Friends. . .
Springtrap felt very confused.
He certainly didn't remember ever being at a 'Fredbear and Friends', to him there was only Fredbear's Family Diner.
So why was he in the picture exactly?
"I was in a coma for thirty-seven years…so why don't I remember anything to do with Fredbear and Friends?" He asked himself, although of course no answer came to him.
Goldie hadn't told him anything relating to that place when he was alive, why though?
He and the other Fazbears had told him a significant amount of their past history, quickly bringing him up to speed.
"Vincent, the murders, dead children, trying to escape the past, that was a lot for me to take in," Springtrap mentally muttered himself, casting his mind back to when he first met them all on Mike's airship.
Yet his mind immediately dragged up what the ghost children had just told him, with them possessing the Fazbears, murdering the nightguards and those unfortunate victims surviving beyond death and were now attempting to search for them.
"It was clear that Goldie and the others have a dark history, they just didn't tell me all of it," Springtrap mumbled to himself. Yet what could be so bad about Fredbear and Friends that prevented Goldie, or the others from telling him about its existence?
Did it somehow link in with what had happened and what was currently going on?
Springtrap returned his focus to the picture, he looked closer, practically leaning in through the window.
He could see that the boy didn't look all that glad to be there, he seemed nervous, on edge in fact.
Curiosity once more took hold as Springtrap pulled himself inside, effectively sliding in through the open window. This act not too surprisingly resulted in several gasps from the ghost children.
"What the-!"
"What the hell are you doing!" they cried, rushing up to the window and forgetting about their own fears for a second.
"Having a look," Springtrap answered plainly, brushing off their concerns.
Upon dusting himself down, he approached the picture and examined it in full. Yes, it was everything which he had seen before, the boy, Fredbear and himself all in the frame at a location that he didn't recognise.
"I don't understand, why can't I remember that place," Springtrap whispered to himself, feeling even more confused.
"Get back outside right now, this place is evil, and we need to leave," Susie called, standing outside the window with the others.
"The Fazbears are waiting, time is of the essence," Sammy added, his eyes darting about, scanning the surrounding gloom.
Springtrap sighed and shook his head, he held his hand out towards them, signalling them to stop. "No, hang on for a second, this place has a connection with myself and Goldie, maybe there's something in there which can help us against Vincent, and give me an answer to what this picture means."
"Your seriously not thinking about exploring this place, are you?" Charlie asked, concern was his overriding tone.
"I'm not thinking about it, I'm doing it," Springtrap replied as he strolled forward.
"You don't know lies in there if you go in!" Cassidy exclaimed, voicing her opinion, loud and clear. "I know that, but I have to take that risk, we have the time and I'm pretty sure the Fazbears are doing fine without me," Springtrap answered, walking into the darkness without a care.
"What's that old saying, if you don't try, you'll never know."
"What about curiosity killed the cat," Charlie remarked, replying with a phrase of his own.
"Good point," Springtrap added, emerging out of the darkness, he offered his hand to them.
"Care to join me, if we find nothing, then we leave, ok…how about an hour?"
Charlie folded his arms, a sign of immediate disproval.
"Twenty minutes…at the most."
"Half an hour."
"Twenty-five."
"Half an hour."
"Twenty-seven."
"Half an hour and that's my final offer."
There was a pause, before finally, one of the ghost children, Gabriel sighed in defeat.
"Ok, I for one accept that offer."
He then climbed inside, stumbling through the window to join Springtrap. "Anyone else?" Springtrap asked, extending out his hand towards them. The ghost children glanced at one another, all judging who would be next, but not wanting to take the plunge into the unknown themselves.
"I'll go, it might be worth it after all," Susie muttered, pushing pass the others to make the necessary space to climb in.
"And if there isn't anything to find, then we'll know for sure."
She crawled in through the window and joined Springtrap and Gabriel.
"Springtrap does have a point, we don't know everything either, if Goldie is in a picture, then this house must be contacted to him somehow," Cassidy stated, pushing past everyone else to climb through the window.
"I'm serious, this house isn't what it appears to be, can't you all sense it?" Charlie asked, his eyes locked with Cassidy's eyes. The ghost girl chuckled lightly, patting him on the shoulder as she walked past.
"Yes, I can feel it, but I'll won't be alone in there."
"You know, I am curious about the house, I want to explore," Sammy spoke up, jumping up and down and raising his hand in the air. Everyone stepped aside for him, as he eagerly climbed inside to join the group. Charlie sighed and buried his head in his hands, this wasn't going as he planned. "You know Charlie, you are a lot like Puppet when you sigh, that's not a criticism by the way, just an observation," Springtrap muttered plain, although internally he was amused by Charlie's expression.
"He will take it as criticism though," Emma whispered under her breath, steadily moving away from Charlie in anticipation of what was to come.
And she wasn't disappointed!
"Like Puppet, you mean grumpy and moody!" Charlie shot back, his eyes now filling with extreme annoyance.
"Well…when you put it that way..." Springtrap muttered, rubbing his neck in unease.
"Yes."
He then instantly raised his hand, to stop Charlie's anger which was evidently building.
"BUT….if I may add, you do have your strong will and determination, which is a very positive thing to admire."
"Plus, you're also kind of stubborn," he whispered under his breath.
You can learn a lot through mere observation. Charlie vented his anger through long drawn out breaths, time itself appeared to stand still as he debated with himself over what to do.
In the end he came to answer.
"You know what…fuck it," he groaned, it sounded very odd for a child to swear, with Springtrap feeling rather taken back by his choice of language.
"I'm joining you, even though there's a part of me that is screaming not to."
He turned to see Charlotte, the ghost child of Toy Bonnie.
"You're in charge until I get back."
Her bright green eyes sparkled with joy for being given command.
"Yes," she hissed in triumph, punching the air with her fist.
Charlie grabbed hold of the window's frame and proceeded to clamber on inside. "Anyone else?" Springtrap asked, to which the other children slowly backed away from the window, not wanting to go inside what they considered to be a death-trap.
"I think this is it," Susie stated, folding her arms, Springtrap noted that she has a strong resemble to Chica when she did that.
"Mmm, how strange," Gabriel muttered, feeling the wall with his hand, running it across its faded colours.
"I can feel real objects again."
"Hey so can I!" Sammy cried out in joy, stomping on the floor and feeling the soft fabric beneath his feet.
"Everything is real, it's not transparent anymore."
"So, you can feel again?" Springtrap asked, he felt confused, probably for the tenth time.
"Yeah, we have been dead for thirty odd years, so this is new to us," Susie replied, brushing her hair back behind her ears.
She smiled sweetly.
"I do wonder though…"
She then turned and softly punched Charlie in the shoulder.
"HEY!" he growled in response, but she laughed humorously, before replying with.
"As I thought, we can feel pain again and are therefore human, it's as if we were alive."
"No fighting at Fazbear's please children," Springtrap joked, pushing them apart before Charlie could administer his vengeance towards Susie.
However, as he struggled to keep the two children apart, a serious question appeared in his head. "A thought occurs, quite a significant one, what were to happen if we were to encounter so serious trouble and cannot get out?" he asked curiously, although with a hint of firmness in his tone, turning to face Charlie. His question was enough to calm the boy down, completely snapping him out of his vengeful demeanour towards Susie.
"Well," he began calmly, standing back and out of Springtrap's grip.
"We are all connected to eachother, being a close knit group that slowly formed over the decades we gradually learnt how to read each other's feelings mentally, we have a strong sense of eachother and react accordingly."
He then gestured to the other nearby children as if to emphasise the spiritual connection that they all shared.
"They should be able to sense our feelings and if we feel any negative emotion to an extreme degree, then they will come looking for us."
"Yeah, you guys can count on us!" Charlotte cheered from outside, followed by the sounds of the other ghost children agreeing to the notion.
"Are you sure Charlie?" Springtrap asked firmly, wanting to be dead sure before they took a further step into the dark.
This time Charlie didn't take Springtrap's words as something to be challenged, but rather a desire for solid confirmation on having a means for escape. He firmly nodded, with a determined look in his eyes to back up his conviction. Springtrap in response smiled warmly and lightly ruffled Charlie's hair as he pasted him by. Although Charlie didn't smile, he did like the feeling of appreciation that the kind gesture gave him.
"Then we go, come on, stick close, I don't want any stranglers," Springtrap ordered, taking the lead into the darkness of the central hallway that lay stretched out before them.
He then turned around and held out his hand towards the children.
"Follow me. . ."
Yet the fearful expressions on their faces caught his attention and he could tell by the direction of their eyes that wasn't the looming darkness that had frighten them.
It was his hand. . .
"What's wrong?" he asked, sounding somewhat puzzled.
"Your words and the gesture with your hand, he did the exact same thing when he lured us away," Gabriel muttered defensively, although he carried a nervous undertone as he spoke.
There was no doubt as to who 'he' was and the mere mention of him made Springtrap feel angry at how much that bastard had gotten away with over the years.
Well. . .it was time to change things.
Expressing a serious feeling of determination, Springtrap maintained his out stretched hand. "I am not him; I won't mislead you," he said stoically, further expressing his feeling of injustice towards everything that had happened.
"Things can get better, trust me."
"We know that you're not him," Charlie replied modesty, with some of the other children nodding in agreement.
"I trust you SpringBonnie," Gabriel said warmly, stepping forward.
"I trust you too," Sammy voiced aloud, joining Gabriel, he was soon joined by the other ghost children declaring their trust in him.
"At least, this is a start," Springtrap mentally commented, feeling honoured with them placing their faith in him, despite being a good lookalike to the other 'SpringBonnie' that had claimed their lives in cold blooded murder.
"I know that this risky, but there has to be something of importance in here that could possibly help us in defeating Vincent and his Nightmare friends," he mentally muttered to himself, getting his thoughts in order.
He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand grip his.
He was surprised to see that it was Charlie who was lightly gripping his hand, given his temperament, he was the last person that he had suspected. Then he felt another hand take hold of his free hand, he turned to look, seeing that it was Cassidy, interlocking her fingers with his.
"Let's go SpringBonnie," she whispered, sounding small, but there was an undertone of determination in her voice.
Holding onto both hands with a strong grip, Springtrap turned and headed into the wating darkness, with the other three children following on close behind. They felt a mixture of fear, concern, safety and courage as they descended into the unknown, letting the darkness swallow them whole, vanishing before the eyes of their friends who were stationed outside the open window.
"Ok, from here on out, unless it is very urgent, it is complete and utter silence," Springtrap whispered sharply, getting his point across as he led the children forward.
"Because if anyone or anything is actually living here, they probably aren't the friendly type as you say, and I wouldn't want to risk waking them up. . ."
He tightened his hold on Charlie and Cassidy's hand, but they didn't complain, being fully aware of the dangerous situation that they were putting themselves into.
Springtrap walked further into the darkness, it was completely pitch black in here and they were alone.
"This place is probably big," he whispered, still not losing his sternness, he carefully trended the soft carpet beneath his feet.
"Do not for any reason wander off, keep together and above all else. . .follow me. . ."
I'll leave you all theorize on what could potentially happen next. ;-)
The ghost children are meant to be stuck in an moral grey area, as what they've done is deplorable, but also understandable, given how they died.
Regarding Springtrap's return, I know that this will to some extent undermine the impact of his death, but rest assured I have put a lot thought into how this will play out.
I did intend to bring him back at some point and through him, the more obscure elements of the story can finally come into play, Limbo, the ghost childern and the FNAF 4 house to name a few.
Springtrap is my favourite FNAF character period, so it is nice to bring him back. :-)
Please review, I appreciate your feedback.