Springtrap's Seed

	Shrouded in the darkness, I looked out from my cell onto the streets below.

I could end it all so easily. I could pull myself over the window with my two corroded arms, and fall onto the sidewalk below. Somebody walking by would see me eventually. They would scream, and call the police, and after some poking and prodding my hell would be over at last.

But I can’t do that... Geez, what am I thinking? I’ve got kids to feed. Even if I didn’t feel the parental obligation, my hands are full right now. My eyes swivel down to look at the bundle of joy, tucked away in the crook of my arm. It’s missing a chunk of it’s lower torso, but that’ll be okay soon.

I hear some cooing and crying from down below. I take care not to leave any more of a mess than I did before. Maneuvering my behemoth feet between the children is quite tricky. They wouldn’t die if I did walk idly over them- well, not be in a worse spot than they are now, anyways… The crushing would just make their future a bit unclear.


And isn’t that what a parent wants most for their children? A good future?

The mother can’t answer me on that. She stopped moaning a few months ago when the frontal lobe experienced what it’s like to have a ton of metal forced down upon it. Now the knuckles just clench whenever I’m walking by her. Not too sure what’s up with that; the ears have been cornucopias for flies for a few years now.

I leave our bedroom, and see everything as I left it last night. I looked down at a brown bear’s head, insects crawling in, and out of the mouth. It’s jaw made a soft click.

I’m still a bit unsure as to whether or not “they” have truly vacated their robotic bodies, but I don’t think that matters right now. What matters is progress, and taking steps to build my future and that of my children’s.

Which is why I bent down to pry apart the jaws of the Freddy helmet.

The kid inside was still there. It’s lone eye swivels around frantically; yellowed and rheumy as the sole remaining jawbone  was. Not too much remained, yet he was still going... Yep, we’re ready to launch.

Plunging my hand inside, I grasped the skull, and felt it crumple beneath my force. I withdrew my hand, and placed the “bundle of joy” as I had referred to it previously, inside of the helmet.


In the process of this menial task, I asked myself a question. How did we come to this? I searched the chambers of my mind for answers.
It’s not that crazy to think that there’s life after death, you know. Or that there’s nothing after death.

But it’s a little weird to think that there’s both after death… And yet, I’m able to father children. Weird, eh?

I had done some unsavory things before I passed, which played a pivotal role in ensuring my position as a father. But there’s something important for you to know. How I ended up here.

 I was paralyzed for a long time. A few years, maybe. It was during these years that I met her.

I tried to undo the unsavory things I had done; or at least make repairments for them. And I was punished by luck for it. The children I had helped escape, they haunted my mind until I trapped myself. I found myself inside of a cell of my own design; forever on death row because when I felt that metal shear my flesh and pry bones from their sockets…

My spine was the first thing to go; the center of my back caved inward just as I chuckled to myself. The wind was knocked out of me as fragments entered both lungs; and I was forced against the wall. Sliding down, I felt more parts shatter and die off as the nerves were torn from their sockets. And yet, as fingers and ribs dripped off over the days, which turned to weeks, months, and years.

Oddly enough though, the most painful loss I felt was located in the pelvis. Something came loose down there and stabbed into my penis. It was a pretty decently sized piece of metal, so it was also stabbing into the area just below the navel simultaneously. These kind of things really take the fight out of a man, and makes him just want to sleep. The children disappeared as my head and neck crumpled beneath the metal, hanging loosely over and peering into the red pool between what used to be my legs.

So I sat slumped against the wall for a while; a statue of meat and steel. But I began to feel the return of strength to my body. I could move my head again. I could eventually lift it up enough to see what was just out of sight those past few years. Nothing much, I can tell you that. It was around the time that feeling was restored to my right arm that I realized I wasn’t feeling “my” arms or head move. I felt the mechanical systems pump and extend with my arm and head.

And yet, through the use of audio receptors in the face part of the skeleton; I heard my labored breathing. I heard myself cough. I also looked down to see the blood where it was decades ago. I drew in the floor with blood that was older than the restaurant was when I entered. What was I? A human or a machine?

 I was like this for a few more years; just an arm and a head with a stockpile of existential questions.

Until came the day that changed everything.The day I met her. I’m not too sure why she was there, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Glass broke. Wood was torn apart.. I heard steps and another voice. For the first time in decade, another voice was rambling.
After a few hours, the human broke into my room. I did leave some “evidence” lying about the restaurant and I was surprised that they didn’t follow it straight to my prison upon entering.

Seeing an actual human being for the first time in forever really awoke some things. Namely, the entire robot inside me and the sex drive.

I stood up, and lunged.

My memory’s foggy of the face of the woman, mostly because that was the first thing to go. The second thing to go was the spine. I stopped and cursed myself for such over-eagerness.

Like a vulture, I investigated the body. Dead, yes. Tons of blood yes; still breathing.

Maybe my experiments would go as planned.


Six months later, two children.

Still “present” although the bodies were a bit damaged from the forced C-section. Or rather an O-section from the size of my new hands.

Their heads were small enough to fit inside, thankfully.  It was like a safety cap on that point.

I placed their heads inside of the rabbit and the chicken, and ran wires through their eye sockets and to their exposed brain.

The melting  and eruption of the brains were unexpected.

Placing the two infants inside of Bonnie and Chica was a complete failure. So was the next kid seven months later.

The waiting game was boring and no fun. Like a scientist I scurried around the pizzeria I was condemned to each waking hour; taking mechanical supplies around here and there.

I always start with the head first, to ensure that it’s got the least power to overthrow me. If I succeeded, I would move it onto a robot’s body. I know that I’ve done things most people find repulsive. I also know that these disgusting little infants were smarter than one would think. Maybe they’re “her”. The mother. Either way, the past four results have been complete failures and with her body breaking down bit by bits, I needed to take action. Supplies were running out; heads and bodies were running out with the animatronics being limited. The pizzeria was now an utter bloodbath, I myself almost slipping upon some particularly treacherous terrains.

So I plugged one into an endoskeleton directly. The fifth child. I didn’t know what type. Just that it was an endoskeleton.

It’s ribcage rippled. It’s ears perked.

And it screamed.

I wasn’t exactly prepared for this. I was melded with an older and more fragile model of robotics. And seeing my past experiments, one crawling out of the depths drenched in blood. Arms and legs crawled out of the shadows.

The endoskeleton tore off one arm. Like a puppet, it tore off my head, and peered deep inside.

It took two fingers, and ripped out whatever were my eyes. Mechanical or organic.

I can’t see anything. Can’t feel. Certainly can’t taste.

But I am able to say that I’m proud that I gave life. That I could take in the joy of creation.