You Can't Leave Me: Springtrap × Reader ((NOT discontinued))

7

*Crack*

Springtrap hits the lid a third time, breaking a hole big enough to see you inside.

"You thought you could hide from me until 6am, didn't you?"

*Crack*

"Well, allow me to inform you,"

*Crack*

His face is in the box, just inches from yours. You can feel his breath on your face. His cold, silver eyes staring deep into yours. He has a menacing smile on his broken face.

"You can't."

He pulls himself out then reaches his hand back inside, grabbing you by the neck and lifting your fragile body out of the wooden case. Luckily, his grip on you isn't so tight that you can't breathe, just enough to slightly restrict it. You claw at his hand out of instinct.

"It was a fun game while it lasted, but I'm afraid it's over," he holds you a bit higher. An idea pops into your head.

"I-I.. breathe..." you place your hands on his, not pulling or clawing anymore. He chuckles at your desperate attempt to speak.

"Don't worry, it'll be over soon."

"I-I... can... h-help..." He smirks at you.

"You don't even know what I want and you're willing to do it just to save your life? That's quite reckless young lady~" He studies you for a moment, then places you on the floor. You hold your neck trying to catch your breath. He taps his foot with his hands on his hips as if impatient.

"So, what do you need help with?" You finally ask as he sighs and looks around.

"Well for starters, I want out of this place."

"B-but, I'd lose my job! I can't just let you go without hearing it from Mike!" His shoot open in surprise.

"Schmidt? Ah, yes, I remember him! He was the night guard at the last location before it closed. I didn't expect him to come back," he laughs.

"How did you know him?" You were locked a room for almost 30 years, you think.

"Not much of your business, but I can still hear you know," he scoffs. Guess I offended him.

"Now, grab your belongings and go to the back door. I'll meet you there," he starts to walk away when you call out to him. He halts and turns around.

"Why do I need to grab my stuff?"

"You have food and water, yes? You might need those," he states, not answering your question. You choose to do as he says and grab your stuff.

Since I don't really have a choice, could this count as kidnapping? Am I being kidnapped by a 30 year old animatronic rabbit? You make it to the back door to see him leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He notices you and regains posture.

"Earlier, I had poured gas over the most of the building," he stepped forward and looked around.

"So?" He pulls out a box of matches and strikes one, turning to face you.

"So, we're going to burn it." Before you could argue, he drops the match onto a wet line on the floor, the small fire quickly turning into a raging one. He just stands there, staring into the flames. You hesitate, but gently grab his hand, tugging it a bit as his attention shifts to you.

"W-we should leave soon. The fire's getting pretty big.." He chuckles a bit, extremely calm. Scary...

"In a minute, I want to make sure this place is blazing before I leave." You check the time on your wristwatch.

1:16am. He stands there for a bit longer, then turns and walks towards the door. You catch up to him, then notice him sort of limping like he had a hurt ankle, or something. You turn back to the fire and sigh, knowing you'll be fired- or worse, arrested- for the damage done.

Springtrap walks into the woods behind the burning horror attraction. His strides hold purpose, as if the woods held something patiently waiting for him. You walk with him nonetheless, refusing to think of what might happen if you tried to run. Fallen branches and carefree plants litter the forest, occasionally scratching at your legs, your pants protecting the skin underneath.

You walk for what seems like an hour until you come across a small blue structure. There's a bit of a clearing around it, but the yard is overgrown. There's a gravel road on the far side of the clearing, but there are no signs of civilization anywhere. You lived at the edge of a small town, where Fazbear's Fright had also been located, so you wouldn't be surprised to find you were in the middle of nowhere.

The house looked worn and withered from time, but it remained sturdy. Springtrap sighs and walks through the tall grass, unfazed by the thorns it bared. You knew they would tear at your skin through your shirt, so you remain still. He stops and turns, raising a brow at your hesitation.

"Why aren't you moving?" You gulp hard, still fearing you might make him mad.

"Th-there's thorns in the grass," you explain, pointing to the field mentioned. "They'll claw me up through my shirt." He stares for a moment, then his face lights up with realization.

"I apologize, I must've forgotten you aren't immune to these things." He walks back over to you, then without warning, he picks you up bridal style and heads back into the grass. Your face burns a bright red, but luckily he doesn't take notice. Why is my face so hot?? Your thoughts are interrupted by Springtrap setting you down on the front porch, where the grass did not grow.

"Well, at least I know you're scared to run through the grass," he chuckles, gently twisting the door knob. The door opens with a loud creak. You lightly gasp. The inside of the house looks decently clean, yet you could tell nobody had lived there in years. Springtrap steps inside, taking in the atmosphere. You step inside after him, closing the door behind you. He holds his arms out as to show off the house.

"Welcome to my home!" His tone is happy and welcoming, though his words confuse you.

"Your home? I thought you lived at Fredbear's or something?" You tilt your head to the side.

"Technically yes, but no. This was my creator's home. I've only been here for repairs and such, but we animatronics have good memory." He taps his index finger to his temple. You mouth an 'oh' as you lift a picture from the shelves. There's a man and a woman, both young and happy. The man wears a purple sweater while the woman wears a purple dress. Weird.

"So, do I sleep on the floor or something?" You question, placing the frame back in its spot.

"Oh heavens no. I may be deranged, but I'm not heartless," he gives a hearty laugh. You roll your eyes. "Come on, I'll show you your new room."

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Hey guys, I'm struggling a bit with writers block at the moment, but don't worry! I have chapter 8 pre written, and I've got part of chapter 9. I'll still post them on Fridays, but if I miss a date, I'll definitely post and tell you why. You guys make me so happy, so I'd hate to disappoint! Love you guys :)

Word Count: 1167