Sensation; Chapter 6
Haunted
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A Springtrap x OC fanfic
Word Count; 2,332
[content warning for depictions of violence, non-graphic]
Springtrap laid in our bed, pinned under my sleeping body for at least an hour now. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t exhausted.
What if he had another nightmare?
The thought kept his mind racing, making him fight off sleep a little longer. It was so hard, my bed was much more comfortable than the disgusting floor of that abandoned pizzeria, not to mention the pleasant warmth of my body cuddled against his.
It was making him uncomfortable. I looked so fragile- so soft, pliable under his rough grip...
Springtrap realizes that he’s holding my shoulders tightly, immediately letting go and dropping his hands to his sides. How long had he been doing that?
Thank god that didn’t wake him, he thought. I don’t know how I’d explain myself.
He’d say he’s a killer. A monster. That’s how he could explain it.
He huffs, closing his eyes. He was fighting a war of attrition, and slowly beginning to lose. Even with his thoughts racing at a million miles a minute, he felt sleep start to take him once again.
Springtrap opened his eyes, in that familiar room once again.
He realizes how terrible it smells in here.
He hadn’t thought about that smell until he stepped into my home, greeted by the pleasant smell of cinnamon scented candles.
He can hear the sounds of a party on the other side of the wall.
A door opens. A door that hadn’t been there before. There’s a silhouette of a person, their shadow cast over his crumpled body.
The light behind them was blinding.
His breathing is labored, he didn’t need to breathe- but his chest feels like it’s collapsing, like he was drowning in his own blood again.
Something about this person’s outline was familiar. It was bringing out forgotten urges- his hands clenched into fists, he slowly rose to his feet.
He can’t stop himself.
He shambles toward the figure, the only feature he can distinguish is a warm smile, seemingly directed at him.
He recognizes it. His hands shake.
He lurches forward suddenly, a sick sense of satisfaction washing over him as his gloved hands wrapped around the shadow’s throat- he hated how much he enjoyed the sounds of his victim getting the life choked from them.
He’d longed to hear it again, just one last time.
No, that’s horrible. He couldn’t want that.
He squeezes harder.
He needed it.
The lights in the room flicker on. His hands lose their grip, his entire body freezing.
He trembled. He knew who he’d been strangling now.
Hawk?
His eyes snap open.
The choking doesn’t stop.
Springtrap looks down, realizing where his hands are. I had been sitting over him, likely having woken up before him.
His hands were wound tight around my throat, squeezing with a specific intent.
He releases me, his eyes wide with panic. His body is trembling, shaking his head slowly as he looks down at his hands. He instinctively sits up, trying to put his hands on me.
“Hawk! Oh my god! I’m so- I’m so sorry!”
Springtrap’s voice is so loud in my ears. My throat aches so badly, I was lucky he didn’t crush my esophagus. I cough and sputter, hands on my bruised neck.
I’d crawled away from him the moment he’d let go of my neck, tears spilling down my face as I stared at him, disbelieving.
I knew it had been because of a dream. That didn’t change the fact that he’d nearly killed me.
I choke a little, feeling sick to my stomach. I can’t reply to him, waves of a memory hit my mind like a tsunami, one I had hoped I could forget.
A knife glinting in the dark. Dangerously close to my neck- too weak to fight back, only managing to slip away by the skin of my teeth.
I shiver. The feeling of snow stinging my bare feet lingering in the back of my mind.
The screaming. The sirens.
He’s still trying to apologize to me. He’s only getting louder. I cover my eyes, shaking my head and pointing at my bedroom door.
“Get. Out.”
“H-Ha-... Hawk?”
“Get out of here! Just- go to the living room...!”
I can’t face him, holding my arms and curling into myself. I feel bad for yelling at him- I’m sure he genuinely didn’t mean for that to happen, but that was little comfort to me right now.
Springtrap is shocked into silence. I’d only been kind and understanding with him up to this point, and he’d clearly pushed me too far.
He nods slowly, silently walking out of the bedroom. I shut the door behind him, breathing heavily as I begin to break down.
I hadn’t felt like that in so long. Seeing my life flash before my eyes, the genuine threat of losing my life forced into my face, and I had no way to stop it.
I shudder.
I could’ve been killed if he didn’t wake up in time.
Hot tears fall down my cheeks, it stings a bit- not as badly as my neck. I can’t help but cough again, he didn’t do serious damage, but it still feels like I’m being choked.
I flop over against the covers, wiping my face futilely. More tears flooded out, I can’t stop the sobs that force themselves from my throat.
Why did that even happen? I knew he’d had a nightmare earlier- but... most people don’t just strangle somebody with murderous intent in their sleep.
Well... Springtrap wasn’t most people. Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on him.
I don’t know what to do. He didn’t try to finish me off when he woke up- he seemed... genuinely apologetic. I feel bad for snapping at him, but given the circumstances I’d hoped I could be forgiven.
I’d slept better on his chest than I had in several months by myself, but what if this happened again?
What if he didn’t stop next time?
These thoughts were eating away at me. What if I had been wrong about him?
No. There’s no way... those soft eyes, the gentle way he spoke to me...
And that moment in the kitchen, when he’d startled me. Whatever he was before, he seemed to be trying to become better now.
A heartless killer wouldn’t look at me the way he did when he realized what he was doing- sheer terror plainly displayed on his face.
I wouldn’t be surprised if we had the same expression during that moment.
I didn’t want to make excuses for him, I’m sure he could explain everything when I talk to him.
I just... need a minute. I still feel my hands trembling, my neck was definitely going to be bruised for a few days.
What’s worse is that if he didn’t nearly choke the life out of me, I... feel as though I would’ve enjoyed it. It feels weird to even think about- but, is it really?
I wish I wasn’t so conflicted. I had to talk to him about this... I hoped this wouldn’t become a nightly occurrence.
Springtrap was sitting on the couch, staring down at his hands. He was still trembling, he couldn’t believe what he’d done.
His nightmare was haunting him still, knowing that those feelings weren’t true to how he really felt now-
His feelings were different from his actions.
He had almost strangled me to death.
Springtrap knew now that he needed to come clean, his conscience weighing on him heavily. He didn’t want to be the person he was before the incident. Regardless, it was impacting his life now, and he’d decided that I had a right to know about it.
The thought of confessing was horrifying. I hadn’t judged him at first, but what about now?
He knew I was being cagey about physical contact, and though he didn’t want to pry, he could tell I didn’t exactly have the easiest go at life either.
Springtrap sat there, twitching and trembling, unable to pry his unblinking eyes from the bedroom door.
His ears perked up, he heard a noise. He listened closer.
It was nothing. He was just imagining it, anxiously waiting for me to open that door. He hoped I’d have some sense and tell him to get out.
Springtrap’s breathing became labored, closing his eyes as he thought about what to do.
Should I try to comfort him? He asked himself, glaring down at his shaking hands. No. I’d just make things worse. He’s probably terrified of me...
Should he leave? His eyes narrowed, sighing heavily.
He couldn’t force himself to do that. If I’d decided to kick him out- he supposed that was for the best... but, he couldn’t make himself leave now.
Springtrap looks up as the bedroom door clicks open, staying silent as I approach him. I’d regained my composure for the most part, sitting a small ways away from him.
I felt bad about it. Self sacrificing as always- but I needed to force a boundary.
“What just happened, Springtrap?”
My question cuts through the silence that’d fallen over the house. Springtrap can’t bring himself to look at me, ashamed of what had happened.
“I... I had another nightmare. I’m so sorry for what happened- I... I would never do that to you if... well...”
He sighs, trailing off. That obviously wasn’t all he had to say. He knew he had just choked me, but it was something he’d never even think of doing while he was awake and in control of himself.
He knew that was no excuse. He had no doubts about that.
“I need to confess something to you, Hawk. I apologize I didn’t tell you before...”
“I’m listening.”
He pauses, unsure of himself. I can see how conflicted he is and... well. He looks terrified of me, unable to make eye contact.
“Hawk... before I became... well, like this,” He motions toward his body, finally looking me in the eye. “I was a terrible person. A monster, a murderer.”
Springtrap sees the shock in my eyes when he tells me this. It... fades quicker than he would have expected.
It concerned him a little.
“And what about now? What do you want to be now, William?”
Springtrap looks away from me again. Did I just not care? He was worried about that. Was I just accepting him without a second thought? He had no idea what was going on in my mind.
He meets my gaze, that earnest look on his face again as he speaks up once more.
“I... don’t want to be that person anymore, Hawk. I want to be better.”
I nod, acknowledging him. I look down at my hands, my throat tight as I consider what I should do.
If this happens again, I might not be as lucky. I need to be more careful when waking him up- I did try to gently shake him awake when he’d grabbed me. He was making noises and his hands had been twitching intensely, I thought I’d be doing him a favor by waking him from a nightmare...
I couldn’t shake the feeling that initial confession wasn’t the only thing he was holding back.
“What happened in your nightmares?”
Springtrap visibly tenses. He clearly doesn’t want to tell me.
“I... was back in that room. Both times, you were there with me. The... the first time, I had a knife- and... I’m sure you know what happened.”
He feels terrible just saying it out loud. It was like an intrusive thought morphed into a full-fledged dream, it felt so real.
“The second time... I didn’t know it was you. Or... I don’t think I did.” He sighs, holding his face. “I was strangling you. It... it felt so real. I suppose I know why. I’m... still very sorry.”
He finally manages to work up the courage to look at my neck, seeing how red it was already...
“I don’t want this to happen again. I... needed to tell you. You deserved to know.”
I stay silent for a bit, nodding quietly. I look down at my hands, thinking about how to handle this.
“I... forgive you. I don’t believe your nightmares define who you are.”
I knew how it felt to be judged for such things. I was plagued with nightmares as well, terrible things happening in them that I’d never consider doing while conscious.
“I know you didn’t mean to do it. But...”
Springtrap tenses, not knowing what to expect out of my mouth next. He couldn’t tell what I was feeling from the expression on my face.
“As bad as it would make me feel- if something like this happens again, I don’t think we’ll be sharing the bed...”
“You’d... still let me sleep in your bed?”
I smile at him. I wasn’t unsure anymore- he was trying. He was trying his hardest, and doing remarkably well given the circumstances. I just hoped that this wouldn’t happen again...
“Yeah. It’s our bed.”
Springtrap’s head was spinning. He couldn’t believe I had forgiven him, and that I would even consider letting him sleep near me.
He felt an immense weight lift off of his shoulders, many of his anxieties quelled by our talk. He was so relieved that I was willing to hear him out, and... well, didn’t judge him outright.
It obviously wasn’t the best judgment call. He was aware that I likely knew that too, but if I thought he was worthy of a second chance, then he wouldn’t deny it.
He wanted to try. He... had something to care about again.
It was comforting. Yesterday, the thought had scared him immensely. But now?
He looks at me, seeing that warm smile on my face again. He feels immense guilt over what happened, but I’d already forgiven him. It didn’t stop the feeling, but at least I was alright...
He wouldn’t let it happen again. He was going to be better this time.
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