Rotting | Springtrap X Reader

Broken Down

While asleep, instead of nightmares, you had some nice dreams. And kind of weird ones. Springtrap was in it, not in a weird way. You just had a dream about him being on fire. You also had a dream that had some of your co-workers in it; you were followed by a male narrator calling you "Stanley". You woke up a few hours later, at 6 a.m., due to your alarm. You hit the top of it, forcing it to stop making the annoying beeping.

You got out of bed and started to put on your work clothes. (Pick any outfit, doesn't matter what you go by!)

Once you had your clothes on, you went over to the kitchen and started to make a cup of tea/coffee (whichever you prefer). You grabbed your phone and started to check your texts, but nothing was there. Like usual, you're lonely. You put on your gloves, grabbed your bag, and unlocked your apartment door, stepping out. You ran down the stairs to get out. Once you were out of the apartment building, you walked down the street to get to a small store, walked inside, then went over to the arts and crafts area. You picked up a plain green notebook and a pencil. You went over to the check-out, your shoes making a tapping sound on the ground.

"That'll be 5 dollars and 50 cents." The man said, you handed him the money and walked out of the store.

You started to walk towards the alley to give Springtrap the notebook and pencil. You didn't want to forget to give him it.

You heard coughing coming from the alley; that was probably him.

"Springtrap?" You asked, and he started to crawl towards you from the shadows.

"Hey *cough* kid." He said it, his voice as raspy as ever.

"I brought your stuff." You said, setting it down. He instantly grabbed it.

He just makes a noise, probably thanking you. But you can't really tell.

"Uh, you're welcome?" You tilted your head.

"T...hanks..." He says it in a pained voice before crawling back to his sitting area. He started to slowly sketch in it; it was probably hard since his fingers were rusted metal with the fur coming off.

You looked over his shoulder to see what he was sketching; it was a robot design. It looked similar to you. Which was odd, but you weren't going to question it. You felt him rumble, quite literally. He made a rumbling noise, and his body started to look like a cat purring. "Are you hungry or something?" You asked

He looked at you, his eyes glowing. "Yes, but if I *cough* ate, it would just fall out." He said he's probably been starving for years.

"Do you want to try?" You grabbed a granola bar out of your bag.

He instantly grabbed it, like a wild animal. He opened it as quick as he could (which was like, normal speed for a normal person), then swallowed it whole. It fell, like expected. "I don't really feel hungry anymore." He mumbled

"But it fell through you?" You asked, and he just shrugged.

"I don't fucking know, kid." He calmly said this before coughing up blood. It landed on you.

"Gross..." You muttered. You tried to wipe it off, but it wouldn't come out.

He laughs, but stops due to pain. "Now you'll always have me with you." He groans in pain. You pat his back, trying to comfort him. But this is a rotting corpse.

"Hahaha..." You awkwardly laugh, finding that a bit strange. He puts his hand on your head and pats it. You awkwardly look away; rotting corpses don't really have shame.

"Now, shoo." He said you got up and started to walk away.

You grabbed your AirPods from your bag and put them on, playing a song on your phone while you walked around the city. You had to start finding more clues. So, you went into the abandoned Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. While you were walking there, you saw a child hiding behind a trash can, watching you. You didn't think anything of it and just walked inside, ignoring them.

Inside, there were broken arcade machines; they'd been smashed and broken into. There's money all over the ground. You saw the broken-down animatronics; they were starting to grow mold. There were cracks in the ceiling. The place was insanely run down; it's a surprise it hasn't gotten the wrecking ball treatment. Maybe the owner was just a sentimental guy who didn't want it taken down.