I’m glaring at my watch as if it were its fault for saying the time was only three in the morning. I have another three hours of sitting in the dark with these loons.
Worse, they don’t know how to shut up for five seconds. Especially Springtrap. I can only hope that’s because he’s been locked in a room for five years with no one to talk to or see.
However, it’s rather odd that he can’t stop speaking, but never gives up too much detail about who he was before becoming whatever he is now. He's mysterious and secretive.
I’ve only found out he wasn’t born in America, though he moved here at some point in his life.
His lack of understanding some things we do here suggests he moved across the sea when he was closer to being an adult than a child.
He likes to poke fun at what we do and how weird we are for measuring in our “made up” scales. Especially temperatures. Springtrap hates Fahrenheit.
So if he was so happy in Europe, why bother moving here? “Hey, Springtrap, why’d you move so far from home if you were happier there?”
Previously, I’d tried getting away from him by climbing back into the Freddy suit. Turns out, I don’t know how to get in unless he does it for me which, of course, he wouldn’t help.
He said if I was smart, I could figure it out.
Okay, sorry I don’t specialize in dressing up in strange animal costumes! I don’t want to bust his bubble, but I wouldn’t exactly take pride in knowing how to use these things.
Therefore, I settled for sitting in the spare parts room, having been too afraid to re-enter the main party area. He’s not much better company, but it would seem I don’t have a choice.
“Happier in Europe? I don’t know if I can honestly say which is better or worse. I had my reasons for leaving.
You don’t just cross seas and change your whole life because you feel like it.” Gee thanks, that tells me exactly what I wanted to know.
I didn’t already predict that you came here for some reason. Why does he avoid direct answers so much?
"So... did you leave for a girl or something?" If he's not going to be specific, then I will have to ask better questions.
He’s back at the door, studying the handle as if he wanted to grab it. He doesn’t and continues fidgeting. Springtrap appears to be getting antsy in here and ignores all other questions.
Even with the light on, this is still too small of a place and too similar to the one he’d been trapped in for so long.
Whatever, if he’d let me go home, he wouldn’t have to babysit me in this tiny spot.
The pressure must have broke him because next thing I know, he’s grabbing the collar of my shirt and dragging me back into the dining area with the stage full of robotic animals.
My fingers reflexively reach for his hand, clawing catlike at the fabric hiding everything underneath. For being as old as it is, the golden cloth is durable and doesn’t tear.
“No! Not again, let me go-!” Because my hands are doing absolutely nothing to free myself, I use my feet to try gripping the ground but to no avail.
As a result something far worse happens in exchange for my thrashing: my back begins splitting open yet again. The scabs were too fresh and fragile to keep the skin from breaking.
It’s not a serious injury, but I’m writhing in agony enough to stop fighting. The only thing warm in this restaurant is the blood oozing from behind me.
“Now look at what you’ve done. Doll, I told you. They can’t hurt you. Stop making such a fuss, it’s getting annoying.
” The rabbit yanks my collar rougher and I barely manage to keep myself somewhat upright. He sighs loudly in relief as he “escorts” me out and finds far more open space beyond the doorway.
A table decorated with confetti and party hats is randomly selected to drop me off at. “You’re begging for an infection and a worse scar than you were originally going to have. Stay.
I’m going to find a new shirt.” And leave me with these four? I don’t think so! My left hand plants firmly on the table while I push up, determined to get to my feet.
Springtrap lands one of his own hands on my shoulder, forcibly shoving me back down to the table. “Stop.” This time, he sends a glare formidable enough to send chills down my spine.
I’m too intimidated and frustrated to look at him anymore. My eyes shamefully search the floor for something else to watch until he walks away.
When I’m certain he’s gone and I can no longer hear the metal joints creaking nearby, I glance back to the stage. I’m not even surprised to see all three turned towards me.
I’m sure if I turned around, Foxy would be watching through the curtains. But he’s the scariest of them all, so I don’t look at him.
Their hateful staring is leaving me in an uncomfortable position especially since I got a job here in the first place for these mascots.
Then, I came back a second night for the kids this time. “What?” It’s my turn to glare. I’ve done nothing, but love these characters all my life.
Freddy’s Caribbean blue colored eyes squint at me in response to my question. “You’ve had plenty to say before this.
I’m sure no one has ripped out your voice box or ruined the prerecorded conversations you have. So, stop looking at me like I’m saying the most unbelievable crap.
” My arms fold over my chest as I turn away from the beast and his friends. Kinda getting fed up with this treatment. I’ve been trapped in this pizzeria for an entire day.
Most of which I’d been knocked out as a sub sequential result of my injuries.
The bear blinks and turns his head to glance at Bonnie as if he’d know what to say. No, of course not.
The indigo rabbit purposely avoids the leader’s gaze, mindlessly strumming his guitar. Oh look, my mini plush is attached to it. Freaking Bonnie, man.
I try to turn back to him with an angry face for stealing my keychain version of him, but I can’t.
“Why’d you come back? Didn’t we scare you?” Finally, Freddy is ready to talk. He asks the dumbest question imaginable in this situation, but it’s a start.
“Of course you scared me! I didn’t want to come back, I swore I wouldn’t.
If I hadn’t found out about the disappearances of five missing children, I’d be at home, with my dad! Thinking about how much of an idiot I was for not listening to him!
” I don’t know why I’m spilling my guts to these things. It’s just that all the regret and rage built up, blasting through the floodgates. I really want to see him again...
I almost start crying before the sound of padded feet march their way back into the room. Well, I certainly didn’t wish for him-
“Seems your entire uniform was in the office. Did you even go back there once? Doesn’t matter anymore, turn around.” Springtrap comes up to where I’m sitting.
I turn away meekly and leave my back to him. That quickly changes when he starts lifting up me torn clothing! Quite frankly, I’m not letting a dude I barely know strip me.
Whirling around, I tug the cloth back down, cheeks flaring red.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The golden rabbit stands dumbfounded for a second, his hands frozen in place as if he were still holding my ruined top I had just ripped from his hands.
At last, he regains his bearings and reaches for my shirt again. “What does it look like I’m doing, idiot? I need to get this off to clean your wound.
You need a new shirt!” I struggle against his force, pushing back with what little might I have left.
Golly, if there was ever a time to redeem themselves, now would be a great time! Rather, the crew watches me struggle. Might as well bring in the freaking popcorn!
This is a losing battle, but worth the fight for my dignity. I aim to kick him, but he’s quick to grab my ankle and lift it so I fall back into my seat.
If it weren’t for my other foot being on the tiled floor and my hands clutching onto the chair for support, I’d be on the ground by now. “I’m not going to stand here naked in a kid’s pizzeria!”
I’m fairly certain I hear him snort. He’s still holding my ankle way up, so I can’t move. “Hardly. Oh, I’m so turned on at the sight of your exposed back. You have no idea.
” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. He’s tired of putting up with my stubborn and rebellious antics following every action he performs. “Fine then, be that way.
” He's still not letting my leg go. His head snaps toward the stage where the kids stand. “Chica! You need to get her shirt off and help her get this scratch cleaned up.
” Oh God- I’ll take Springtrap back now.