Springs (FNAF fic) #Wattys2015

22- I Know What I Have To Do

(THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GORE AND OTHER EXPLICIT CONTENT SOME VIEWERS MAY FIND DISTURBING. USE YOUR OWN DISCRETION.)

"Springtrap!" Scott said, sitting by me. He tried to touch my shoulder, but I squirmed away from him. "Are you okay?"

"No! Please get away from me! I'm not safe!" The Murderer had been quiet for a while, but I couldn't take any chances. I couldn't let him hurt Scott.

"Springtrap, remember what I said earlier? You're not a killer, it was an accident."

My head started hurting again. This wasn't good... "You don't get it, Scott," I gasped. "He's trying to take over my body!" I felt like I was going to sleep.

Scott looked at me, confused. "What?"

Scott's eyes widened in horror as I stood up, looming over him.

"Springtrap, are you okay?" the human whispered, trying to crawl backward.

I dusted off my clothing, smiling brightly. "Oh, my dear Scott, you were wrong. Very, very wrong... Springtrap is a killer, because right now, I'm Springtrap."

Scott stood up, steadily and slowly, and tried to reach for that stupid bag he always carries to work with him.

I knew what that meant. He was attempting to find his gun, the thing that made me unable to control Springtrap for days.

I couldn't let that happen again.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT THING!" I screeched, throwing myself at Scott. I slammed into him, pinning him to the ground with my knees.

I grabbed at his uniform, trying to rip it open to reach bare skin. I had to kill him, fast.

Scott squirmed from underneath me, glaring intensely at me and gritting his teeth. It was unusual, I had gotten so used to my victims completely breaking apart when their deaths were so close...

I was too focused to realize Scott wasn't trying to be strong in a grim time, he was planning something.

Scott raised a fist, and before I could defend myself, he punched me.

When I woke up, I was lying on the floor. My face hurt really bad, along with my head. Scott was sitting by me, looking worried.

I noticed he was holding his hand, and it was all nasty looking. Red stuff was leaking out of his knuckles and little white stubs were poking out.

Did I do that to him?! What did the Murderer do when he took over...?

I sat and tried to grab Scott's gross hand. "I'm sorry!" I said, sniffling. "I didn't mean to hurt your hand..."

Scott shook his head, awkwardly patted off some of the red stuff onto his shirt, which was kinda ripped up.

"It's fine, Springtrap. I did this myself..." he said, but he didn't really sound fine to me.

That idiot shouldn't have hit me so hard. Now I really want to kill him.

My eyes widened. He was talking to me again!

"I won't let you!" I said, grabbing my head.

Scott moved away from me, looking confused. "Springtrap, what's wrong? Who are you talking to?"

I shifted in my sitting position on the floor, rubbing my chest. "Scott," I whispered. "He keeps talking to me. He says he wants to kill you." My breathing started getting really hard. "I'm really scared."