He fell to his hands and his knees, tripping over the head of the dismantled Freddy, gasping for breath as he glanced behind him. His eyes widened as he saw them drawing near.

Nearer to him.

Scrambling to his feet, the faint squeak of his shoes against the rare polished part of the worn and dirt-covered floor.

The Pizzeria had seen better days; the halls were darkened, the lights that once illuminated the way to the different party rooms broken, or shattered completely from time and age. The drawers that lined that walls as he passed them, no lay crumbled up on the floor; torn and ripped, some from his steps in his hast to run away from them.

He turned a corner at the end of the corridor he was running down, looking around as he tried to find a way to hide from them.

Then, his eyes landed on what may be his one way out of this nightmare.

The Safe Room.

'Maybe they can't get in…' Vincent thought to himself; probably with more optimism than he would have liked…

Regardless, he grabbed the rusted handle of the safe room's door.

"Damn leaks," he muttered under his breath darkly the rust got into the shallow cut across the palm of his hand. Pain flared up in his hand, but he ignored it.

He had more important things to worry about.

He wrenched the door open, running in and slamming it close behind him; leaning against the door once he had locked the door. He breathed a short sigh, his breath shaking as he tried to recover from his running and panic.

Though, unfortunately for him, he seemed to forget one tiny problem with his idea.

They could pass through doors.

Feeling the stomach-turning coldness flood his blood, Vincent backed off from the door, turning around. His skin grew cold and pale as he saw them slowly phase through the door, one by one.

Their pale, transparent-white skin-if you can even call it skin-phased through the door, their hollow, black eyes staring into nothingness, and yet, at the same time, staring right into his soul.

It haunted him.

Ever since he started…

His spree.

The ghosts-the souls- were all in the room, the four of them lining the locked entrance, blocking him from any sort of attempt escape.

'Wait…W-Where's the…?' Vincent thought, before he was given his answer.

He would have preferred it verbally explained; rather than…well, if you could call it physically.

There, now seeping through the doors like the water that leaked through the roof and walls, was the fifth one….

The first child.

And with a brief flash of something across the child's spirit causes Vincent's already flipped stomach to start doing backflips.

The faint, brief image of the tear stains turning a light purple, combined with small, rosy-circle cheeks, confirmed it.

'Damn puppet…' Vincent thought darkly, feeling a bit of sweat forming on his forehead as the faint indications vanished, leaving the fifth spirit as blank and plain as the other four children's spirits.

The Crying Spirit-the first Child-floated forward slowly, raising one of its ghostly hands up; pointing a bloody finger accusingly at Vincent.

"You…You...murdered...these children…" said the deathly hollow, phantom voice of the Crying Child spirit, yet its mouth remained unmoving. As though he was communicating with Vincent within his head.

His hands flew to either side of his head, over his temples, screwing his eyes shut as he took another step back.

With the step back, the floating spirit took the same distance forward.

"Stay away from me, you bastards!" Vincent shouted, throwing his hands away from his head as he opened his eyes to look directly at the spirits; his dark grey eyes burning with anger, and hatred.

But something else was behind those signature eyes of his.

Fear.

He was scared.

Normally, he'd be the one cornering his victims, leaving them with no escape.

But now…he was the one cornered, with no escap-

Wait!

As his eyes shifted over from the floating spirits, to the rest of the room, he backed up slowly, and his shoe bumped into something.

Of course…How could he be so stupid?!

The Spring-Bonnie Suit!

A sadistic, sly smirk forming across his paled face, Vincent made sure to keep his eyes on the Spirits, in particularly the damn Puppet Spirit, he bent down and grabbed the arm of the weathered and rotten suit.

It had obviously seen better days. It was so bad, some of the endoskeleton was visible. Even one of the ears were missing!

But that didn't matter to Vincent right now; he just hoped his theory worked.

He slipped into the hybrid suit; the feeling felt oh-so familiar, and brought back so many memories. He had so many memories inside this suit; and most of them involved covering the suit's hands in the blood of innocent children.

Now fully inside the suit, Vincent opened his eyes and breathe slowly; the glass casing that covered the eyes were a bit fogged up, but he could still see through them. The dark yellow, almost golden, Bonnie suit was in more disrepair than he first thought; there was patches over the chest and stomach of the suit so big, some of Vincent's purple jacket could be seen.

Flexing his fingers, of which, one of the animatronic's fingers was ripped off entirely, Vincent turned to face the spirits that haunted him.

Even though they were spirits, Vincent could still tell that there was fear from the children spirits. Behind the remaining teeth of the Spring-Bonnie suit, he smiled sadistically.

Seconds past as the spirits stayed still; even the Puppet spirit turned quiet.

A light, sinister laugh came from behind the Bonnie mask; this was Vincent's best chance of surviving.

"You think I'm scared of you? You think you strike FEAR in ME?!" shouted Vincent, his eyes burning with anger and sinister intent, taking a loud step towards the spirits; pointing a rotten, worn suit finger at the Spirits.

"I am the one that strikes FEAR into the hearts of CHILDREN! I am the one that you check for under your bed every night! I am the ONE you will FOREVER FEAR!" Vincent roared with anger, taking a step forward with every sentence, the hand pointing at the spirits closing into an angered fist. It also happened to be the same hand with the slice across the palm.

It gave the impression that, with his clenched fist, blood oozed out of the closed fist, slowly dripping onto the worn floor.

"I-" Vincent shouted, taking another step forward.

"AM-" Another step forward.

Vincent opened his mouth to strike the finale nail in the coffin, but froze when he heard something.

The leaks.

Leaks.

Water…

Moisture…

MOISTURE!

Almost as though his worst fear was becoming his worst nightmare in life, right above him, a damp patch in the ceiling slowly dripped a single drop of water leak through, before it broke from the ceiling and began free falling.

Right on the back of the Spring-Bonnie's neck.

Right where the spring lock was located.

'Fu-' started Vincent, but he was ripped from his thoughts.

Both metaphorically and physically.

The metal rods that acted as the Spring-Bonnie's limbs slammed back from their suit-mode position, forcing them back into their animatronic-mode.

Though to do this, Vincent's limbs had to go.

Bones shattering in several different places along the length of his arms and legs, blood squirting out where the bone broke through the skin and jacket. Vincent's muffled screams and yells of utter, unbearable pain.

Blood squirted from the suit's openings and holes, soaking the suit's surface and dripping down the legs; or just skipping the legs altogether and flooding straight onto the floor.

Pretty soon, a large, crimson puddle was formed at the bloodied animatronic feet.

His fingers shattered, with no chance of recovering them at all, as they were completely torn apart from the Spring-Bonnie's finger cases compressing with bone-crushing force.

But these injures hailed in comparison to the injures Vincent-still screaming for pain, and release from this nightmare-received to his stomach and torso area. The metal rib-cage of the animatronic jammed back into place.

The metal pierced the skin, shattering Vincent's ribs and striking right through his vital organs; the heart and lungs stood no chance. Blood came splattering out of Spring-Bonnie's mouth, as Vincent tried to scream with a mouthful of blood. All that came out was a splatter of blood, and a gargled cry.

His stomach and liver was torn to shreds from the metal compressing his body, shattering his hips and spine in multiple places.

Still trying to scream and shout in unimaginable, hellish pain through a collapsed throat and ruptured lung, Vincent, inside the Spring-Bonnie suit, collapsed to his hands and knees, the bodies twitching and shaking in pain.

He began heaving, blood splattering onto the ground, splashing back up onto the mask, but mostly pooled on the floor, reflecting Vincent in a crimson mirror.

That would be if Vincent could see.

The glass cases for the eyes had jammed back when the spring lock broke; jamming themselves right into his eyes, shattering and lodging the glass deep inside his eyes and even reaching into his head.

Gagging and heaving, blood still dripping from the teeth of the suit, Vincent finally couldn't take the pain anymore. He collapsed onto his front, his head facing the safe room door.

Still twitching and gagging on his own blood, through the pain of his violent death, and the glass lodged into one of his eyes, the remaining eye, appearing a bright white against the glass of the eye cases, he noticed something.

They were gone.

The Spirits…had vanished.

Feeling his lungs giving up, his breaths growing weak, he spoke, in his last breath, spoke his last words.

"The...S…Spring…Trap…."

With those last, haunting words, Vincent, the self-proclaimed 'SpringTrap', gave in; his last ounce of life leaving him, and he collapsed.

Lying in a pool of his own blood, Vincent, known among the new employees as 'The Phone Guy,'…was dead.

But in his death…

SpringTrap hath risen.