The Springtrap Saga Book Four: Darkness in the Stars

Chapter Fourteen

His knees bulge into a crouch, and he tucks himself into a crawl. The uneven walls of the tunnel brush against his shoulders, and clumps of soil crumble to the floor as he squeezes past. Earthy mustiness shrouds the stagnant air, and he pushes himself into a hunched stand. The fading light frames the outline of the leader as she continues to penetrate the darkness. This seems to be a preexisting passage, as she no longer has to scrape away the compacted soil.

     The walls hem him in until he feels like he might shatter. After being trapped in the dust-ridden shadows of the safe room for three decades, he's been infested with a fear of tight spaces. He still marvels at how he managed to scrape together the courage to crawl through the vents in the pizzeria. It shows how desperate he was to have a friend.

     Too bad I was hideous and still am.

     For once, he makes an effort to shove that thought away. He can't funnel all his thoughts onto himself, even if all the thoughts are steeped in self-loathing. Right now, he has to channel all his focus into keeping his beloved family safe.

     "You hangin' in there alright, Springtrap?" Summer's words are fringed with concern.

     "Yeah. Yeah, doing fine." He meant to sound reassuring, but his voice sounds faint and shrill, the volume subdued by his panic.

     He is absolutely not doing fine. The roof is scraping against his stooped head, while pieces of soil continue to crumble from their spots and shower onto him. The walls intrude on his shoulders. Fright coils around his chest and lurches it into a squeeze. If his family wasn't still in the suffocating grip of peril, he'd probably curl up in a fetal position until the ringing in his ears fizzled out.

     At some point, he notices the leader weaving back through the crowd. He presses himself against the wall to widen her path. She must be going back to snuff out the hole, veiling their escape.

     The muted hiss of feet grazing soil floats through the air, along with the occasional anxious whisper. He tries to funnel his attention into absorbing the sounds and dissecting their origins to divert his thoughts from the cramped space. They wind through the murk of darkness for what feels like forever, and he begins to wonder if they're lost.

     He suppresses a sudden urge to sputter out a manic chuckle. Maybe this is going to be how the rest of his life unfolds. Maybe he'll be stuck here, in a sea of aliens, wandering through a stuffy, underground tunnel.

     Who came up with the idea that bunnies live in burrows underground...? he thinks, the thought drifting through a haze of delirium. Well, I guess the bunnies did. Why would they do that...?

     He thinks his eyes must be tricking him when a gentle glow seeps into the tunnel from ahead. His eyelids flutter up and down in several straining blinks, but the light only grows stronger. Giddiness bounces in his chest at the sight of the glow creeping along the walls. Anticipation presses against the back of his head and fills his mind with an uncomfortable buzzing. The gentle illumination brushes against his suit, and it doesn't take long for his eyes to adjust to the gradual retreat of the shadows.

     Then, the constricting tunnels pool out into a massive expanse, all of the walls erected from compacted soil. Tables sprinkle the area, some of them garnished with food and drink. Lanterns are nestled into alcoves carved along the walls. Hallways branch into a labyrinth on various ends of the area.

     As soon as the space inflates into this room with the light and tables and alien chatter, his legs scramble into a run angled at one of the chairs. His feet barely skim the soil as they propel him away from the suffocating darkness. His knees buckle, ushering him into a plop. He sags against the furniture, allowing the panicked tension to melt from his exhausted suit. His head wilts back into a lean, and a sigh, riddled with weariness, leaks from his voice box.