I woke up groggy and my eyes wouldn't open very well. I moved my head back and forth very slowly and noticed I have some kind of mask on.

My stomach shoved itself back and forth, and I nearly threw up. I reached up and tried to rip the mask off, but I had failed to achieve. The mask smelled like puke and something dead.

I gave up and could feel tears brimming to my eyes.

What happened to me? I yelled in my head full of confusion.

I finally let a tear fall down my left cheek. I didn't care anymore.

I stared at my hands, which weren't human. They had holes in them and had wires sticking out of them.

I glanced at my feet and saw wires sticking out as well. I tried taking a trembling step, but it seemed to only make it worse. I collapsed to the floor in a pathetic ball of wet tears and anxiety attacks.

Why me? I asked myself. Anybody else... Why me?

"What have you done to me?" I choked out a furious bellow between swelling tears. "What have you done, Freddy?"

Silence.

Then finally, heavy footsteps sounded outside the room I was in. A door creaked open; I kept my eyes slammed shut.

Footsteps. Silence.

After a few moments, I opened my eyes and came face-to-face with an ugly, snarling metal bear.

With a yelp, I jumped back.

"Don't be scared, sweet Springtrap," his voice cooed. He took a step closer, radiating the smell of death and rotten flesh.

"Sp--Springtrap?" I forced out, my voice barely above a whisper.

The smirk on his face only grew, and he crouched down.

"How long have I been out?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he said.

"What have you done?"

"I've only made you a better person," he growled. "Don't worry. You'll thank me in the future."

I shook my head vigorously, and covered my eyes with my scratchy hands. "It's just a dream!" I screamed.

"Only it isn't," he whispered.

I glanced up from my hands. "This can all be a dream."

Freddy stood up and smacked my face. "Shut up. I'm done with you already."

"I'm not done with you!" I yelled.

"Good. We have to talk about some things." He tilted his head.

"What am I?" I demanded.

"You're one of us," he said simply.

"No. I'll never be like you. I won't ever kill for fun."

"We don't kill for fun," he protested. "We kill for revenge."

"So let me go," I said softly.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He slapped me once more across the face.

I sat still.

"Your name is no longer Sora. Your new name is Springtrap," he said. "And you belong here now."