Fnaf x oc

The father daughter bond and the end?

Michelle’s heart was pounding as she sat in the darkened security room of Fazbear’s Fright. The monitors in front of her flickered with grainy footage of the dark, narrow halls outside. She could feel a cold sweat forming on her brow, knowing that somewhere out there, Springtrap—her father, William Afton—was searching. She had heard his distorted, angry voice over the speakers, and she knew he was getting closer.

She glanced at the clock. Only a few more hours until her shift ended. She had to survive this night.

Michelle had read the instructions Henry had left her. She knew how to use the audio cues to lure Springtrap away from her location. She quickly pressed a button, playing a sound clip of children’s laughter in a far corner of the building. The sound echoed through the empty halls, crackling through the decrepit speakers. She stared intently at the monitor, watching as Springtrap's eerie, twisted form jerked to attention and began moving toward the sound.

"Come on... follow it," she whispered under her breath, hoping that the audio would be enough to distract him.

For a while, it worked. Springtrap’s shadowy figure moved toward the audio, his movements erratic and filled with a menacing purpose. Michelle could see him pause in the hallway, his head twitching as if he were sniffing the air. She knew he could sense her; she could feel his rage even through the screens. She played another audio cue, drawing him further away from the security room.

But as she tried to keep him occupied with the sounds, the power systems in the building began to malfunction. The ventilation alarm blared, and the cameras went dark. Panic surged through her veins. She frantically rebooted the system, her hands shaking as she waited for the screens to flicker back to life. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she kept her eyes glued to the monitors.

“Come on, come on,” she muttered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The seconds felt like hours.

When the cameras came back online, her heart sank. Springtrap was no longer in the far corner of the building—he was much closer, just two rooms away from her. His rotting face filled the screen as he stared directly into the camera, his eyes burning with a malevolent fire.

Michelle’s mind raced as she weighed her options. She played the audio cue again, trying to lure him away, but this time, Springtrap didn’t budge. He knew. He knew she was close. The game was up.

Without warning, Springtrap began to move—fast. She could hear his heavy, metallic footsteps thudding against the floor as he charged down the hallway toward the security office. Michelle’s pulse quickened. She couldn’t hide forever.

“Think, think, think,” she whispered to herself. She quickly rebooted the audio system, hoping it would buy her a few more seconds. She glanced around the room, looking for anything she could use to defend herself. Her eyes fell on a rusty metal pipe lying in the corner. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

As the audio system finished rebooting, she played the sound of children laughing one last time, hoping to slow him down. But she could still hear his footsteps approaching, getting closer and closer. She braced herself, gripping the metal pipe tightly in her hands.

The door to the security office creaked open slowly, revealing the dark, twisted figure of Springtrap. He stood in the doorway, his decaying yellow suit hanging off his withered body. His eyes were locked onto Michelle, burning with a twisted mix of hatred and recognition.

Michelle's breath caught in her throat as she faced the rotting shell that housed her father’s spirit. The man who had once been her father was now nothing more than a monster driven by vengeance.

"Michelle," his voice rasped, a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. "You...you’re the reason. You’re the one who let it happen."

Michelle took a deep breath, her hands shaking but her voice steady. "You never took responsibility for anything, did you, Dad? It was always someone else's fault."