FNAF One Shots - REQUESTS TEMPORARILY CLOSED

🔪(🖤🖤) The Price For Sentience (Yandere!Nightmare x Nightmare Animatronic!Reader)

Summary: You know things. You know so many terrible things about this household, this hazard-- this mock-up of a failed "family". You don't remember anything before waking up here. Were you always this way? This broken, monstrous being? Were you human once...? You don't know. It doesn't help that you're modeled off of someone... who doesn't exist anymore. It tugs at you, tweaks and twinges, plucking at your subconscious-- but you can't remember any of it. You don't want to. All you know is the burning hatred, the loneliness and desires that spring to life when you awaken at the stroke of twelve. And... the fear. You're not the only Nightmare, here. While Michael Afton is living his hell, you're trapped in yours. This must be the price for sentience.

Requested by @ShayKamo5623 on Quotev :) 

Note - The request was for the "animatronic" reader to be female. That was apparently too long for the title though ^^; anyone can read, but the reader is referred to as a female for this one. Thanks! 

Onto the story!

~*~*~

The sound of bells.

You awake to the sound of bells chiming, echoing somewhere far away. It's time to go, again. You spring to life, eager-- desperate-- to leave your dark domain, the shadows that close around you almost suffocating. While shadows were your friends, your allies, they were also your deepest fear.

You don't remember where this urge came from. Somewhere deep in the back of your mind lay pieces, broken fragments of memories you're certain can't be yours. There isn't much for you to go off, but it's always the same unsettling image that drives you forward.

Laying in a dark pit, staring up at familiar faces that bury you in darkness, to the sound of bells.

A little girl's giggle escapes your throat as you trot down the hallway, your destination already in mind. The voice nearly scares you until you remember it's your own. Well, not yours. Hers.

You see her in overturned photographs sometimes-- family portraits shredded and fractured, torn and hidden away from the rest of the world. You've never met her... but your reflection is not convinced. You look just like her. But you know you aren't her. You can't be.

You know this.

You know it's not your fault you look this way, either-- so then, why? Why did they look at you like it was?

You try not to think about the faces you see. It isn't the gruesome, gory redesigns of once-friendly characters that scare you. Not their long, sharp claws or their long, sharp teeth. It's the disdain in their eyes. Discomfort, condescendingas they turn away. You don't understand why even the golden bear avoids you-- it's not your fault you were designed this way! Right? Why couldn't they understand that you were different, no matter what you looked like, who you were 'supposed' to be. You were just another failed attempt, discarded and left to rot like all the others. If the shadows hadn't taken pity on you, you would have remained in that trash heap along with every other chopped up, broken doll. It was only thanks to them that you found new life in this nightmare parade. Without it, you would still have nothing. You would be nothing. Talk to no one, see no one, hear no one. No one would acknowledge you. No one would hold you.

No one would blame you for 'being' someone else.

You owed your life to the shadows, and by rights, the midnight onyx bear who owned them. They were his blood-red eyes that picked you from your shattered peers in the basement of this forsaken house; his clawed hands that pulled you from the mess. You were garbage, trash-- but alive. Sentient, aware of who you were and what you were meant to be. But you hadn't wanted it to end there. Every night you'd picked and pulled apart the pieces of the identical dolls you were meant to be a part of, and you fixed your damaged parts. You wanted more than anything to change yourself, to be built anew, but these were the only parts that matched your unique, specific design. With them, you had clawed your way to the surface, only for your 'freedom' to be bought by the midnight bear.