Work Text:
I flew down Highway 53, which was less of a highway and more of a sprawling, winding backroad lined with tall pines and the occasional roadkill specimen. Work had been… less than good. But I was off now, and the feeling of freedom, along with the cool night breeze and a day off ahead of me, lightened my mood.
My headlights cut long lines of yellow across the dark road, and I let my mind wander to what I’d spend my time doing tomorrow. Maybe I would go for a hike. Or perhaps stay in and binge movies I’d been wanting to see. Or I could start a craft. How long had it been since I painted? I could do all three.
A strange smell interrupted my thoughts. A heady, earthy smoke filled my nostrils from my truck’s open window. I glanced up. Above the pines I saw a huge grey plume of smoke reflected in the moonlight. Strange. What could be on fire? It was big enough to be a car or maybe a building.
Then, as my eyes came to rest back on the road, something darted in front of me. I saw it too late. I screamed and slammed on my breaks sending my rear end spinning. With a light ‘thunk’ my back tires dropped into the ditch. My headlights pointed up into the black night sky as dust from the side of the road rolled past them.
Catching my breath and trying to slow my heart, I glanced around to try to spot what had jumped in front of me. Whatever it was had been huge. If it was a deer, it was the biggest deer I had ever seen. Maybe a bear? No, too tall.
I tried the gas and my tires spun underneath me.
“Shit.” I cursed. I put it in reverse and gently tried the pedal. Again, I spun, the soft earth shot out around me.
I sighed and rested my head on the steering wheel. Of course. Of course this would happen to me. I just wanted to go home, curl up after a long shift, and pass out. Now I was stuck. I thought about abandoning my vehicle and walking the rest of the way. It could be tomorrow ‘mes’ problem.
I started up into the black sky and watched the twinkling stars for a few moments.
Something jostled me. I shot up and gripped the steering wheel in a panic. Was I sliding backwards? No, I was rocking forward. But how? I was at an angle and the only way gravity could take me was backward. A fear prickled behind my neck. I glanced behind me into the blackness of the evening. I tapped my brakes. The red from my taillights lit up the trees and… a strange shape behind me?
A huge “thump” sounded on my tailgate, and I jumped as the noise reverberated through to the cabin. I left off the brakes.
What. The. Hell?
My truck continued to move forward until all four wheels were back on the pavement. When I stopped moving, I glanced behind me again. The space was empty, all except for the still trees and underbrush.
Then, without warning, the passenger side door opened and I turned to face – ‘THUNK’.
---
My head HURT. It hurt so incredibly bad. I gently opened my eyes to see my living room’s fan, its light was on and I groaned as my searing headache split my vision in two. I could feel a knot pulsating on the side of my head.
Turning, a giant shadow loomed. As the figure came into view, I let out a bloodcurdling scream. I screamed. The creature lunged toward me. It covered half of my face with its massive hand. I grabbed at it, but it seemed to be made out of metal, unmovable and cold. I could only stare into the face of the thing inside my apartment.
A horrible… rabbit? Yellowish green in color, with holes in various places, its bulging eyes bore into mine, it smelled of dust, oil, and something oddly sweet.
I swallowed hard.
With a mouthful of teeth, the thing in front of me spoke. “I’m going to release you. No more screaming. Do you promise not to scream?”
Its voice was deep, horse, and layered with a metallic ring. And… British?
I realized I was taking too long to answer as it repeated itself. “Do you understand? Nod your head.”
I nodded as best I could with his hand over my mouth.
Hundreds of questions ran through my head, who are you? What are you? Why are you in my house? Were you the one who moved my truck? But when he released my face, I could only say…
“You hit me?!”
He shrugged.
“How’d you find my house?”
“Your address is on your license.”
“Oh.”
I stared up at him for a bit, suddenly at a loss for words. I took him in. Clearly, he was in a terribly old costume. Its features were rough, aged, and disintegrating. Maybe at one time, the metal and faux fur shell was cute, but now… it sent chills through my body.
Finally, I asked, “What are you?”
---
His story was brief, and I could tell there was more to it than what he was letting on. Did I really believe him? I had to, didn’t I? There was a 7-foot-tall rotting, moving, mechanical rabbit standing in front of me. The blood rushed to my head. And inside of that rabbit was… a corpse? Goosebumps covered my skin, though it wasn’t cold.
How could this be possible? I felt dizzy and lightheaded. I was still scared, sure, but something drew me to him.
His breathing was harsh and broken. His voice sounded like he had been yelling for decades. Decades…
“What… what did you do in there? When you were trapped in that sealed room.”
His illuminated gaze again shot to mine, and something shifted behind his eyes.
He moved closer to me, his steps hit the tiled floors hard and heavy.
“You want to know what I did? Locked in a room, alone.” He roughly barked a laugh and looked down at his feet. “I walked.” The visual clicked in my head. The bare metal of his feet, no trace of the costume’s shell there, and the intense wear around his ankles. I pictured him, alone in a dark room, making circles, day after day, week after week, month after month.
“And” he gasped, struggling with a breath. “When that got boring to me. When the frustration and anger became too much to bear. I dug.”
A noise came out of my throat, confusion.
He moved a claw across his chest. As it crossed thin bits of faux fur, bare metal, corrosion, and finally a hole in the suit.
“The clothes I tore away in strips, then the skin, I pushed in the rust and ripped tissue out. Seeing what I could feel. Going deeper. But, oh, there were pieces I couldn’t get to and other parts I wanted to keep.”
A sudden laugh broke from his throat. I recoiled at the noise, half human and half machine, dead sounding and dangerous.
I stepped back, but I was slow, and a hand shot out to wrap itself around my throat.
He must be insane! All that time trapped. Dead but not dying.
The panic in me spiked and my heartbeat raced. His cold grip around my neck held firm. Being in his presence was strange enough, but his touch... something awful seemed to rip through my heart, a deep desire, and that feeling scared me more than anything. Closer to him, I peered through the cracks of the suit, and I could see it. Red, pink, grey, black. It was pieces of him winding their way around metal, they were the last parts of his humanity, dead but functioning.
A noise came from him, something between anger and interest, and a rough thumb brushed its way up and down the right side of my neck.
“Warm”, he breathed. “Your heartbeat is like a little sparrow’s.”
“You can feel like that?” I asked my mind not registering that I should still be scared. Instead, my interest in him was piqued again.
He cocked his head to the side. The ears made a disturbing creak as they shifted their position. “You didn’t run when I let you go. You’ve barely flinched.” He punctuated the last word with a short, tighter squeeze of my neck. “Are you not afraid of me?”
“No.” I whispered.
“You should be,” he sneered. Another step closer, and I tried to crane my neck up so I could still see his face. “I’m not exactly myself. I feel different. Years of solitary confinement, not being able to die, will do that to a man.”
I looked hard through the cracks in the suit and that’s when I saw it, a single, slow heartbeat. My eyes must have widened, or my face gave me away, because he shook me a little and growled, “What are you looking at little bird?”
He tightened his grip, my oxygen was suddenly cut off.
I brought my hands to his, trying to move the metal fingers that encircled my throat. I clawed at them, futilely. Tears began to stream down my face.
Wait. Was he really not going to let go? I wanted to pretend this wasn’t real, that this all was a dream or a figment of my imagination. But then, I really didn’t, did I? I didn’t want this to be a dream. I wanted him to be real.
I looked up into his backlit eyes, I could see nothing there, just a cold metal gaze. Reaching up, with darkness surrounding my vision, I put my hands on his face gently. Then, without explanation, he stopped and jerked away.
I dropped to the ground, coughing, and gasping for air on my hands and knees.
It was like that for a bit, me struggling to quell the ache in my lungs, and his silence above me.
“No, that would be a waste.”
---
I watched him for a bit as I did some cleaning up around the house. He had sat at my desk with a notebook and pen and worked while I tried to quietly get some stuff done without grabbing his attention. The couple of times I was brave enough to pass behind him to get a trash bag and then a snack from the kitchen I glanced over his shoulder, but I couldn’t understand anything in the quick glimpse I got. All I saw were messy scribbles of writing, diagrams, and math calculations. After 11 I took a shower and went back into the living room. HE was still at the desk, writing. Maybe it was because I was tired and feeling a little fuzzy from the day’s events, but I finally gathered enough courage to stand behind him and take a good look.
“What do you want?” he grumbled without turning around.
“Um.” I didn’t have a good explanation. “I was just curious. What are you working on?”
“Continuing my work from when I was alive. And,” he took a deep breath, it sounded like wind going through a perforated pipe, “planning to fix some of my decay. I’ll need you to go get supplies for me tomorrow.”
“Like, out? Couldn’t we just order them online?”
“What?”
“Wait.” I moved around to his side. “Um.” I tried to remember when the internet got big and when he said he got stuck. No, it wasn’t mainstream until the 90’s right? Did he not actually know about it?
“Maybe it’d be simpler to show you.”
I grabbed my laptop from my room and sat it in front of him. Shimmying closer to his side, I could feel my heartbeat start to speed up again. I tried to tell myself to be reasonable, but I watched my hand tremble when I opened the screen and booted everything up. He was quiet as I gave him an odd walkthrough of the internet. I went to Google, a couple news sites, Youtube, Ebay, and Amazon. He was silent through the entire thing, taking it in. I half wondered if I shouldn’t have mentioned anything, since my credit card info was all in there and he could buy anything he wanted. When I was done, I stepped back and watched as he took the mouse and clicked through a few more pages of results.
“Interesting. I’m impressed.”
“That’s all you have to say about the entire internet?” I chuckled a little. Then seriously, “Don’t, um, don’t buy too much, ok? I have rent coming out soon.”
He stood up then, the chair under him sighed from the release of weight. “I could pay you back tenfold. I could buy this entire crappy apartment complex you’re in. That’s if my no-good son didn’t steal it all from me when I got locked in that damn room!”
“Son? You have a son?”
He slammed a fist on the desk suddenly, causing me to jump back into the counter.
“Now that I think about it,” he smiled devilishly, “with this, I don’t believe I need you anymore.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean, you may be more useful to me dead than alive.”
Without thinking, I turned and grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter, brandishing it between us. But he barked a laugh, and I realized how ridiculous I looked. He knew I was nothing to him in terms of sheer strength. And his next movements were slow, almost to ensure I knew how defenseless I was. He stepped toward me and slowly wrapped one metal palm around my hand holding the knife, completely covering it.
“Here”, he said roughly, “let me help.” He then guided the long knife between a crack in the suit, plunging it in himself.
I gasped as it went in to the hilt. Glancing up, my face must have been a mask of horror because his was immensely entertained looking.
“You think you can hurt me?” he asked. “All I know is pain.”
He let out a broken laugh and laggardly moved my hand back out. Then before the blade was all the way free, lazily pushed it back in. I tried to release my grip, but he squeezed harder. He repeated the same motion. In a slow, gradual pace he moved the blade in and out.
Continuing to repeat the movement, he bent down to my ear. “That’s it,” he whispered, and I could hear my own breathing coming too fast, my face too hot. The room seemed to sway under my feet.
His other hand wrapped itself around my waist and he moved back a bit to see my face, “Hm, now that’s interesting,” he said lowly. He let go all at once, the blade dropped with a clatter to the floor, and he stood back up to his full height.
Was he messing with me? His eyes were wide and I knew in the harsh kitchen lights he could see my red face and blown out pupils.
“Go to bed little bird,” he said calmly. Then, like nothing happened he turned, sat, and continued working.
---
For some reason, I woke up around 3am in a slight panic. I sat up, trying to calm myself and get my breathing under control. The room felt cold and clammy, and I decided to get a drink of water from the kitchen. Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders I snuck out of the bedroom, trying my best to be quiet. Outside the room, the lights were off, and I wondered if he had left.
Making my way to the living room, I noticed a large shape in the middle of the space. The futon I used as a couch was folded out. And, laying unceremoniously in the middle of it, was the hulking metal rabbit.
I swiftly walked around it and got water to take back to my room, but I stopped as I reached his sleeping form. He faced toward me, on his side, and I found myself tiptoeing closer. I peered in the suit, at the place where I last saw movement from inside his chest. And again, I noticed it. A single heartbeat. I began counting in my mind, 1, 2, 3….. 10, 11,…… 30…. over a minute passed, and that’s when it beat again. A beat every minute and a half?
Something overtook my senses and I found myself sitting on the edge of the futon. I then shifted and laid down next to him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice sounded charred, the metallic undertone to it was much more pronounced than before.
“I… I had a question I needed to ask.”
“You woke me up for a question?”
“Um, yes.”
He dropped his chin and opened his eyes, bathing me in a dim yellow glow.
“I’d like to know your name.”
I heard an exhale of breath, a slightly frustrated sigh. “Springtrap.”
“They called you that at the attraction, right? You mentioned that. But what is your real name?”
“I haven’t been called anything real for decades.”
I wrapped the blanket around myself better and we laid in silence for a bit, my shallow breathing being the only movement in the small room.
“William.” He finally said, breaking the quiet.
William. Of course. It fit him perfectly. No other name could possibly work. I thought of the life someone named William would have led.
It felt right, him being next to me. We were close, but not touching, and a jittery excitement ran through my veins as I lay there.
He sat up suddenly, causing the entire futon to sag under the concentrated weight and I moved with him, sitting by his side. He turned to me, and I tried to read his expression. Curiosity seemed to be written behind his eyes. I reached my hands out toward his face, but paused before I got too close, hovering inches away. Instead, he closed the gap on his own.
“Why do you do that?” he grumbled.
I ran my hands down his cheeks, they were rough with age, the faux velvet fur felt worn and coarse. I traced across his shoulders and his chest, and he shuttered slightly under my touch.
“How much can you feel like that?” I asked.
“Enough.”
I continued moving my hands slowly down his chest and abdomen, lower, getting closer to his waist, but he interrupted me by pulling me roughly on his leg. “What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low and threatening.
“I’m not sure. I feel like I’m dreaming when I’m with you. Like none of this is real. And I can’t stay away.” His hands were wrapped around my waist, almost encircling my body. My shirt had gotten pushed up, so it was metal against skin, and the roughness of his hands bore into me. The smell of him was dust and dirt, and I reveled in how cold he was, his movements, his voice.
I swung one of my legs over the one I sat on, straddling it. He bent slightly, rubbing his face across my cheek as he sighed. It was a strangely gentle gesture coming from him.
What was I doing? I just met him. He threatened me. He’s not even human anymore.
Something coiled inside of me, “I need you,” I said. And quieter, in barely a breath, “I want you.”
He ran jagged teeth across my face, and I felt the catches and pulls of the raw metal. “You couldn’t handle me.” His voice so close to my ear, it sounded more human. I could better hear the inflection, latent and old. It sounded of velvet and warmth. More alive.
I set my hands back on his chest and moved my hips as I straddled his leg. I was half looking for a reaction, half-not thinking of anything at all, acting on impulse.
Pushing my fingers through a crack, I brushed across what I could reach. He made a noise at this, a mechanical sounding groan. His hands gripped my waist tighter as I moved my fingers slightly deeper through the holes in the suit, and in whispers of touch, graced anything I could find. Metal, wires, cables, but also softer things, things with give, things of humanity.
I glanced at him, and his eyes were heavy and barely open, seemingly drunk from the contact.
We were like that for a bit until a light, frustrated sound came from him. He brought a hand up to the back of my head and, completely covering it, he gripped, grabbing a fistful of hair.
“Say my name.”
“Springtrap.” I whispered, dizzy as the air around me got lighter.
I winced as he pulled down, jerking my head back. “Say my real name,” he snarled.
“William,” I said. And as I did, he opened his eyes wide. White hot light filled my vision in the dark room and with no effort, he used his other hand to move me closer, bringing us flush, hips on hips, my legs straddling him. He rocked then. Rocked me. And we moved together. I closed my eyes to absorb the feeling, blocking out thoughts of implications and consequences. His mouth went to my neck and heard the slight pants coming from his open maw.
But my mind screamed at me, I wanted more, it wasn’t enough, nothing was enough. His grip at the base of my neck, tangled in my hair, tightened. He had brought the hand that was on my waist further up and was now squeezing my ribs. I felt delirious with the dichotomy of pain from his hands and the gentle rocking of his hips. I wasn’t thinking right, and out loud I said, “Closer. I want all of you.”
I heard a dark chuckle and with a quick movement he grabbed my wrist and lifted it to the center of his chest, toward the largest gaping hole, the spot I had been avoiding as I touched him. But he plunged my fingers through, then slowly my hand. My skin scraped across the rough edges. Metal and flesh brushed past my skin.
He shifted my direction to the right and in a panic, I knew what he was intending to do. I flinched backward but he gripped tighter, not letting me back out. Another inch and my fingertips brushed against what he was aiming for. With a jerk he pushed my hand in the rest of the way to encircle it, my fingers moved around the pieces that connected it to everything else.
An interesting sound came from him, something akin to pain and pleasure.
In my hand his heart felt soft, and a light warmth seemed to radiate from it. I knew what was about to happen, what was inevitable, and a panic welled up in me. I waited, holding my breath. Then it happened, a beat, dull and slow.
He moved hips against me again with my hand completely inside him, and a wave of wild delirium hit me. I made a move to back out, but his grip on my arm was strong. He seemed to be enjoying my split feelings over our current situation.
Suddenly he pulled back from me, removing my hand.
“It’s not a dream.” He said, although it sounded as if he was saying it to himself, and not in response to my earlier comment.
He removed his touch from me entirely, and I half whined from the loss of contact. His palms had warmed to my temperature, and I had been enjoying the pressure. Instead, he brought them up to the sides of his head and began fiddling with something on the jaw. There was a sharp click, and the lower half went slack by about an inch. Then, placing fingers on both the top and bottom portions of his face he began to open it wide.
I gasped. I hadn’t meant to gasp, but the air escaped my lungs in a rush of emotion.
There, the face of a man, the face of William. No, not a dream… a nightmare! I had the sudden urge to scramble up, flee! Run out the door and down the hall to get away from the dead and decayed thing in from of me. But when his eyes flicked to mine, up down, side to side, studying my face, I calmed.
He was the same. He told me what happened, what did I expect? His skin was shades of purple, red, grey, and black, dried and dull. Cheeks hallow, with few teeth left connected to the jaw, and nose nonexistent. But what shocked me more than the human aspects of him were the mechanical ones. Silver metal pieces had pieced through skin and bone, jutting out in awful places.
What horrors allowed him to exist like this, being able to see out of those decayed eyes, breathe and talk out of decomposed lungs, move in combination of tendons, muscle, and metal.
And yet, he could feel the touch of another across metal.
I took my hands and lifted them to his face like before, stopping inches from him, and again, he closed the distance. My touch connected with the side of his face. His skin was rough, pliable but stiff. Eyes bore into mine. Strangely, his real face felt less expressive than the suit’s and I was left wondering what he could be thinking. I moved my hands down, toward his real jaw, holding him there. He hadn’t moved since I touched him, and no breath came from his mouth.
“So very warm,” he said. And I was taken aback at how the words escaped his throat, how they moved past rigid lips. I removed my hands and leaned forward to place a single kiss on his cheek.
“Stay with me William.”