014: Die in a Fire

            "I will fucking kill you."

            I just stared at it. It looked like it was just about ready to pounce on Sam. Sam, however, was just laughing at it.

            "How many times do I have to tell you? You can't do that! I made it so you couldn't."

            Springtrap didn't respond. Those red eyes were staring right at Sam with murderous intent. It was enough to make my hair stand on end. However, it was completely still. I couldn't tell if it was a façade or not.

            "So? Are you just going to stand there?"

            When it didn't move, I almost cried. I wanted it to move so badly. Sam raised his arm above his head, presumably to stab me. He wasn't going to kill me the same. He was going to make this long, brutal, and painful. His arm started moving downwards, and my eyes focused on the knife. It looked like he was going for my chest. The knife got closer, and closer, and closer. Inch by inch, I just admitted to myself that I was going to die. It was easier to accept death than I initially thought. Sometimes, when there's nothing you can do about something, it's best to let it go and let it happen.

            Then, the knife was gone.

            Sam was gone.

            I heard a slam to my right. I looked up to see Sam against the wall, and Springtrap was slowly ripping the costume head off him. Its fingers clutched the fabric so tightly that I could hear the seams breaking. The head slowly removed itself from the neck, popping with every inch it came off. When it was fully off, Springtrap threw the costume head across the room. Now, it was just Sam pitifully looking up at a monster of his own creation.

            "Who the fuck let you do that?"

            The robot's head twitched. "I could always do that."

            Sam pushed the robot off, miraculously. Under the effects of adrenaline, it must've been possible to do anything. Springtrap slammed into a table, which knocked one of the computers off it and onto the ground. It shattered, and Sam pushed himself from the wall. "Are you insinuating that I messed up your programming?"

            Springtrap pushed itself upwards, pushing the table backwards in the process. "Am I?"

            Sam was pacing, knife out toward the robot. I could see his face, and his eyes were wide. Deranged. He wasn't even looking at me. He and Springtrap were pretty much walking in a semicircle, staying directly across from one another. "You cannot kill me. I made it that way."

            Springtrap laughed this time. It chuckled the same as always, but something about its voice sounded glitched and distorted. "Are you sure?"

            "I am sure." Sam raised his voice, and then I saw it happen slowly. He threw the knife at me. Right at me as he raised his voice and yelled, "I am God!"

            I managed to dodge the knife by falling to the floor. I listened to it clang against the tile floor near my feet, and above me, I saw Springtrap just lunge for him. It was almost animalistic, the way the robot went for him. It was, in a very deranged way, human. It was ripping the Glitchtrap costume from the man piece by piece, exposing the preppy, innocent outfit he had on underneath. The two were yelling at each other, and in my state of mind, I could barely hear any of it. I couldn't make it out. They were throwing each other into glass, boxes, tables, literally anything.

            When Springtrap threw Sam basically through a sheet of glass was when I smelled it.

            I could smell smoke. It wasn't cigarette smoke. It wasn't marijuana smoke. It smelled different. Given my position, with one shoulder on the floor, I couldn't get myself upwards. I couldn't use my hands. I had to wiggle to look around. With the two of them in the corner, I would've had time to escape if I could've used my legs.

            Then, I saw it.

            The first computer that fell to the ground was on fire, and it was spreading to some of the cardboard boxes.

            I just stared at it. I wasn't sure what was worse. Did I want to be murdered, or was being burned alive better? I had no other options, and the two of them were still going at it. There was one thing about me – I'd never been to a real doctor for it, but I'd been asked before if I had asthma. I had respiratory problems. Any time I was around smoke, I could barely breathe. I would cough, and cough, and cough. That was my predicament then – I couldn't breathe, and thus, couldn't talk.

            I wiggled on the floor, trying to get myself upright. It just made my head hurt worse. "Hey... Hey!"

            After that, all I could do was cough. I curled up in a ball and coughed. Because there was so much damn cardboard, that fire was spreading almost unimaginably quick. I heard screaming come from the other end of the room, and my eyes focused on the large figure of Springtrap. Its hand looked like it was around Sam's head, repeatedly slamming his head into the wall.

            I just coughed. I looked to Amanda's corpse, which was still inside that wretched animatronic. I felt like her death was my fault. I felt like I should have protected her in a way. Like I should have known. Yet this naïve part of me wished to see the best in people, and I saw the best in the absolute wrong person. I saw the best in someone who actually was out to kill me.

            I was stupid.

            I just rolled onto my back. I didn't want to see any of it anymore. I cried. That's only make my coughing worse, but I didn't care. I was going to die anyway.

            Then, I heard Sam scream. It was the loudest, blood-chilling scream I'd ever heard. I heard the strangest sound afterwards. It sounded like the costume being ripped apart, but slightly different. Between that and the fire, I quite literally thought that I was in Hell.

            Then, after a moment of silence, I heard heavy footsteps coming my way. One, by one, by one, I felt my body tense up. If that thing had the capacity to kill, there was no doubt that it was going to kill me. It was like it was in some sort of killing mode. Or perhaps, this was just what it was supposed to be.

            Then, I saw it standing over me. It was the same robot, except it was now covered in streaks of blood. Its red eyes peered down at me, moving slowly over me. I looked up at it. It was definitely going to kill me.

            It reached down toward me. I just closed my eyes, preparing for the worst. By the looks of it, it tore Sam apart piece by piece. It would probably do the same to anything at the moment. The closer it got to me, the more I dreaded the feeling. Having my arms ripped off while dying of smoke inhalation was probably the absolute worst way to go.

            But, instead, I felt whatever was holding my wrists together get ripped apart.

            My eyes widened. I could move, or at least sit up.

            I wasn't dead.

            "Are you hurt?"

            The malicious voice asking me that definitely threw me off. I coughed. The smoke was getting bad. Not to mention the heat. "No... no. Just... get me out."

            I reached for me again, and I jumped backwards. It stopped moving, tilted its head at me, and kept reaching forward. I wasn't too keen on it touching me. I never had been. However, in this instance, I had no choice.

            It picked me up. I wasn't sure why I was surprised, but I was. It picked me up wordlessly and effortlessly. Like I was nothing. My head was spinning, and I could barely comprehend the sight of the burning building around me. All the memories I had of this place were burning away. Was that good, or was it bad?

            I felt it walking, and I looked up at it. It almost refused to look down at me. I could feel the blood on its torso. It was warm. Based on the smell of the smoke, I could tell that we were walking away from the maintenance room. Away from Sam. Away from Amanda. However, judging by all the sounds, that fire was spreading.

            Then, I heard the front door open. I was surprised it hadn't been locked shut, but then again, Springtrap probably forced it open. When I got a breath of fresh air, I pretty much wheezed to get it. Springtrap set me down on the ground, again without a word. Once I got my bearings, I caught eye of the fire that was next to me.

            "That... that's a big fire. Thank you. You saved me."

            The robot didn't say anything to me. It was looking at the palms of its hands. In a way, it looked sad.

            "What's wrong?"

            It finally looked at me. "Go home."

            I blinked at it. "What?"

            "Go away from here."

            I couldn't believe what it was saying. It was telling me to leave. It was telling me to leave it there, essentially. It was a robot, yes, but it quite obviously had feelings. It quite obviously had emotions. It was almost human. Almost. "Why?"

            It was silent for a moment. I could hear the cracking of wood coming from the building. "It is not safe for you to be here anymore."

            I pulled myself upwards on the railing. "But..."

            "But nothing. It is not safe."

            "But what if you..."

            "I am not safe."

            That made me quiet. My head still hurt. I looked up at the robot. It was just staring at me, unmoving. I didn't ask it why. I knew it didn't like to elaborate. I just said, "So... this is goodbye, then?"

            "This is goodbye."

            I stood there. I just stood there. It felt like hours passed. As the building slowly went ablaze, I couldn't find the heart to walk away. I couldn't find the strength to walk to my car. I stood there, feet from a robot that quite literally tore someone to shreds, looking at it like it was a friend.

            Then, it said, "Goodbye, Emma. Thank you."

            It turned, and it shut the front door of Fazbear's Fright behind it. I yelled after it, but it was useless. I watched the robot walk into the attraction, presumably ready to burn itself to death. I pulled on the door handle and slammed my fist into the door repeatedly, hoping it would come back, but it never did. The whole place was on fire, and it finally occurred to me that there was blood on me from Springtrap's torso, and the police would be arriving any minute.

            So, I took Springtrap's warning and did my best to run to my car. It was freezing cold outside. The first day of November. I kept running, almost falling over several times. My head was spinning. I could barely see.

            When I stumbled to my car, it took me ages to find my keys that were in my pocket. I could barely get them out. I opened my car door, and looked upwards. I felt something cold hit my face. It was snow. It was snowing.

            I looked back before getting into my car. I could barely make out the image in front of me. The building was completely ablaze. There was snow falling around it. Somewhere in there, Sam was rightfully dead. Amanda was dead when she shouldn't have been. All of those animatronics were burning to death. Springtrap essentially chose to kill itself by walking back inside. It wasn't like I could keep up maintenance on it, anyway. Could the police charge me for murder if I was the one with the robot? I wasn't sure, but its dying words were a goodbye. It wanted me to leave.

            So, I got into my car. However, when I sat and pulled my door shut, I felt the full weight of everything. I felt it, like a spinning whirlpool. The smoke, the drugging, the pure fear I felt. The knife being held to my throat. Seeing a dead body. All of it.

            My body was falling asleep.

            I didn't want it to.

            My body was falling asleep.

            I leaned against the car door. I didn't want to go out like that.

            My body was falling asleep.

            At that moment, I didn't think I would ever wake up.