Just an Attraction (Yandere! Springtrap x Fem! Reader)

12 - Family

Awoken by the rattling of keys and the low murmur of voices, I sat up quickly, an unpleasant tingle occurring over the area that had been bleeding previously. I winced, my dusty hand reaching over to cover the scab. Aside from where my head had been was a small puddle of dried-up blood, now brown, it reeked with a ferric undertone which further blinded my sense of smell.
Somehow it hurt more to have survived his anguish. With my bruised neck swelling, my lungs aching, and a massive headache, I had to wonder if dying would've been the better solution. Glancing around, I took guesses on how long I had been out and more importantly, where I was.
There were voices beyond the room yet they were barely audible. Eager to leave, I rushed to the door. Balling up my fists, I banged on its hard surface, the swelling on my flesh stinging with each time my hand made contact. Yet my cries for help were ignored. Rather, the people outside seemed to giggle. It was a mockery; Their happiness. I couldn't seem to pinpoint why they felt joyful until it hit me they may be guests. To them, my banging probably seemed to be part of the attraction. It was horror, of course, it'd only make sense for them to misunderstand.
I parted my cracked, bleeding lips in an attempt to cry for help. Yet there was not a peep that escaped. My throat burned as I wheezed instead. Mouth covering my mouth, my vocal cords itched at the failed attempt to request for someone to open the door. Tears prickled my eyes. I felt hopeless. As my vision grew blurry, I kept quiet against my will awaiting for someone to pick up on my presence.

It was a damp room that smelled musty. A flickering bulb hung just over my head and along its cracked walls stood tall racks occupied with cleaning supplies and products.
The darkroom was like a place out of time, a place to rest without consequence. The darkness in that way was a sanctuary, a place to recharge and forget the things the world said had to be done. After a while of slamming everything I could on the surface of the door, I gave up. My fingers were bruised, bleeding even. Nails were dirty and chipped as I suddenly sighed, at least feeling relieved to be alone rather than with the animatronic.
Though that didn't stop my head from spinning whilst attempting to gather all the memories of the night before. The most I can recall is Springtrap's frustration on my deadline request as well as his weird accusations in response to whatever his ambitions may be. I rubbed the nape of my neck, using two fingers to caress the dark bruise that streaked over my skin.
—

Hours passed and I hadn't seen daylight at all. I had no concept of what time it was. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if a day had passed by. I cautiously rested my head against the wall of the room. My disheveled hair tickled my cheeks but it wasn't as annoying as my skin rubbing against the stucco.
Eventually, my moment of peace was disrupted by growling. I quirked a brow as I turned my attention to where it was emitting. Right behind the door? I tucked my legs to my chest as I waited for the being to make his entrance. There was silence. Then, a loud pop followed as the doorknob flew off, rattling across the floor until it halted right at the tip of my shoe. I shuddered, catching glimpse of the silver eyes boring into me.
"What a performance, darling. I could hardly focus on the little tour guide with all your noises." He chuckled, reaching a dirty hand forward to caress the side of my cheek. I resisted pulling away, my lip trembling as I waited for his next move.
"Come with me." His eyelids drooped a little as he stood tall. Wires twitched with each step he took toward the exit. I followed, hesitantly of course, but at this point what is the point of remaining cautious when safety is no longer ensured. I flinched upon the sensation of his matted paw-like hand grasping over mine.
"Why so scared?" He cooed, seemingly surprised at my lack of an answer, "Oh I see, cat's got your tongue, hm?"
I nodded, not sure why, but I just did. Was I thinking straight? Why was he even being so nice to me? Could this be what it feels like to be powerless? To have no control over your life; losing a sense of identity. Of purpose. My brain seemed to neglect the idea of picturing what people around me must be thinking. I felt too focused on the present more than ever to even acknowledge what my family is thinking. My stomach twisted as we came to a halt before another room.
"You are confused?" He uttered as he tilted his head to the side curiously. I nodded watching as he dropped my hand to scavenge around the desk, Jim.
"Oh right, you were in the closet! My apologies, dear, I seem to have forgotten." He chuckled, "I wanted to give you a taste of what it's like to be me. Alone. Betrayed. Confused. The shit that gets to your skull as you sit there wondering why you did it. Why you kill those kids."

Springtrap's tone was beginning to scare me more than when he was straightforward with his insults. Killed what kids? I suppose that confirms the theory he isn't a child but then who is he? More importantly, why was he telling me this? This is not about trust. If anything, it's just a confession.

"I gotta admit, I like it better when your mouth is shut." He cackled, yanking apart shelves and supplies off Jim's desk. I flinched at the sounds of the objects flying across the room only to break once they landed on walls or the floor.
"I hate how you talk. Whiny. Incompetent. The mouth of a twat. I suppose that's why it makes it easier for you to tease me. It's not so much your body I care for if that's what worries you. Fat. Skinny. Borderline. Not my fucking problem. Women are walking creatures full of insecurities. Often seeking validation whether from a male or not. Now, this wouldn't be a problem if society accepted them. Only a few witness good nurturing that allows them to prosper into better people. The others are often envious, broken little girls attempting to figure out ways to fix themselves and most of the time assume the answer is to grow up quickly. Not that it matters, they're better off dead. The men too. Everyone. Children, especially." Silence lingered between us. It was tense and the air felt thick. Choking, even.
"I mean look at me!" He shouted with a sudden cackle that sent a chill down my spine as I watched his theatrical attitude play out.
"30 bloody years ago, I was working for this shitshow of a company. I had a wife, you know? Kids too. Two died but not by me. The only one left alive is a piece of shit. He is good for nothing. A bastard and I'll make sure he sees them." His bolts creaked as his fists balled up. "You thought, I didn't want to kill you so soon. Let me clarify, I don't like you. I don't love you but as previously mentioned, you are the kind of woman I seek. A woman so consumed by her worries she struggles to pay any mind to those around her. You're just like me!"
I shook my head, the tears once again blurring my vision as laughter pierced my ears echoing inside the tense walls of my cranium.
"Ya know what? We should play a game. Face it (Y/N). You're a fucked up twat already. You have no choice but to serve me. Submit yourself to me already and give in. Only then can I assure you I will answer the questions your pretty little head is tingling with."
I swallowed thickly watching him approach me. One metallic hand reached out to cup my chin. Tracing his thumb over my dry lips, I watched him, unable to say much. If he was truly suggesting what I thought he was, giving in to his request would finally allow me to gain the answers I seek. It would provide me with better insight but now the real question that remained was if it was worth it.

☺☻
A/N: William is a barb. Idgaf if he's British, he has to be.