hvw-2018:

§øñğßîŘĐ

He still remembers her. His little Songbird. Elizabeth. His little angel.

In fact, he could hear her little singing voice right now. She used to sing for him back in the day while he worked on his creations. Every day, every night. He loved it.

-He could hear her voice crystal clear now, she must be near.

Steadily and quietly, Springtrap walked towards the source of the beautiful sound of his little songbird’s voice. He did not want to ruin the moment and interrupt her.

The dirty walls of the attraction and the crudely drawn pictures of children and animatronics did not even get a second glance from him. He was too focused.

He still remembered the day he took Elizabeth to her very first song lesson with Mrs. Belle. Her very first song was ‘I Love My Daddy’. He couldn’t have been anymore proud than he already was.

He sidestepped the arcade machine, ignoring a familiar chicken’s face glaring at him. He ignored the radiostatic noises coming from the ceiling. The phantoms could never do anything to harm him, even if they wanted to.

He crawled through the vent, careful not to make a sound. She was singing an unknown song, one he has never heard before, different language even. Huh. Maybe Belle taught her a new song and he just forgot.

‘Ek ken ‘n ou, ou liedjie

Van lewenswel en wee…’

The song had an eerie sound to it, perhaps it was about a sad story, perhaps?

‘Van lank-vergane skepe in

Die kelders van die see’

He was near the office. Every creak his cursed body made was making him more and more agitated. He nearly fell out of the vent’s opening in his haste. Forget the song, he just wanted to see her again!

‘Die woorde is vergete

En tog die deuntjie draal’

He sprinted towards the office, the source of the song, body protesting against the sudden action after being neglected for so long. His suit groaning and creaking with every step closer to her.

‘Soos vaag- bekende grepies in

‘n Baie ou verhaal’

He nearly skid into the office. If he still had a heart, it would be pounding out of his chest. There she was, his little songbird. He recognised the firey ginger bush of hair, if not somewhat longer than he remembered. Is that… a guard’s uniform? What on earth was she doing here? In that unflattering excuse of a Night Guard uniform?

‘Van swerwers sonder rigting

En soekers wat nooit vind’

She was still singing, not even acknowledging his presence. Only then did he notice she was wearing a strange contraption with plugs in her ears. He could hear faint music if he listened closely, though he ignored that too. He was just happy to see his sweet little angel again.

‘En eindelik was almal maar

Kinders van die Wind’

He reached out to her, barely containg his excitement. This was it.

She froze at his touch, abruptly stopped her singing and spun around, wide-eyed.

She had blue eyes.

Elizabeth had green eyes.

The Nightguard screamed.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Springtrap’s metaphorical heart sank, to his horrid realization, as his memories came flooding back, vividly.

This isn’t Elizabeth.

His little songbird died years ago.

At his hands.

‘Daddy, why won’t you let me play with her?’

‘Didn’t you built her just for me?’

‘Please Daddy!’

‘She is so shiny and pretty!’

‘I want to play with her!’

‘Đaddy isn’t hərə right nøw…’

‘Thərə ₩a§ screaming, ßut only før a mømənŢ…

₩Hý đid thÅt hæppəÑ?’

’…Đåđđý?’

“Əłīžåßəţh…¿”

Author Note

I hate my friends, especially the one who triple-dared me to write this

I have no writing skills

Please don’t kill me