The Springtrap Saga Book Four: Darkness in the Stars

Chapter Three

     When the sun blankets everything in its golden haze, Springtrap allows energy to trickle back into his legs so he may push himself into a stand. He elongates his arms in a stretch, and the metal tracing his form lets out a dull creak as he does. Then, he wraps his fingers around the door handle and gently presses it down. Loosened from its frozen position, the door glides open to reveal the slumbering children.

     Aww! Parental love inflates in his chest, expanding so much he wonders if he's going to burst. They're so adorable! Bliss and innocence shimmer in their features. He wants to scoop them up into a hug and tell them how wonderful they are!

     But he knows as soon as they open their eyes, the gentle quiet humming in the air will splinter into crackling tension. Still, standing around in a doorway without anyone to talk to throws a thin layer of boredom over his mind.

     "Hey, little ones." He diminishes his voice to a whisper so as not to jar them from the ethereal murk of their dreams. Fondness softens his words. "It's time to wake up, sleepyheads!"

     Summer's eyelids part to reveal a slit of umber. As soon her gaze lands on him, she scrambles to her feet and rushes over to give him a hug. The gesture is infused with more urgency than usual, as though she's frightened and looking for solace. Indeed, when the child buries her face against his suit, tears seep into the fabric. A sigh, swamped in relief and buffeted by tremors, gushes from her chest.

     "Are you okay, kiddo?" His voice is imbued with gentle concern. An ache of secondhand sorrow throbs in his chest. He hates seeing his daughter in distress. When she's sad, he's sad, too. When she's scared, he's worried.

     She dismantles the hug so she may regard him. Tears frame the edges of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. The suppressed tears fracture the edges of her words, words that buzz with anxiety. "My cousins and I woke up some time in the night and felt some weird, awful wrongness in the air. I was afraid it was you getting taken back to your dimension."

     A jolt pierces his chest and leeches the warmth from his body. The peculiar, sinister feeling that wound through the air last night wasn't spun by his imagination. Something grim really is skulking, unseen, waiting for its chance to end their lives. "I sensed it, too. I didn't like it one bit. I actually came to check on you kids last night."

     "Wait a minute..." Leo roves his head up and down in an appraising stare. Indignance spiced with anxiety draws his arms into a crossed position over his chest. His brow plummets into a furrow that carves grooves on either side of his nose. "So you were watching us while we were asleep? That's beyond creepy. Textbook serial killer. Seriously, did you go to the bookstore and get a book called How to Be the Creepiest Serial Killer Ever? 'Cause it's working."

     Springtrap angles his head toward the ceiling and allows his eyes to bore into the blank expanse above. He quells the urge to sigh. It's eight in the morning, and I'm already exhausted.

     His shoulders dip in an tiny slump before he injects his posture with false perkiness. He aligns his stare with the kids and distorts his mouth into a smile that radiates pretend joy. He infuses his words with a little too much enthusiasm when he speaks. "I'm going to make you little ones a nice, yummy omelet! How about that? I'm sure you guys like eggs! Well, I'll be in the kitchen if you need me! Which- well, you probably won't- because, I mean, nobody needs me around!"

     A laugh, drawn taut by anxiety, forces itself from his voice box. The edges of his grin grow even more strained. He meant to sound cheerful and carefree, but he probably sounds a little manic. He swings his arm into a thumbs up before promptly exiting down the hall.