Springtrap

The lights flickered again. You really shouldn't be here after dark, but something...kept pulling you back. You step over collapsed beams and shattered tiles, your flashlight dancing across the ruined walls of the old pizzeria. That smell of burnt wires and old rot never fades. But this time, it’s different There’s a sound a scrape of metal against concrete. You spin around. Nothing. Just shadows "You're not supposed to be here" a voice rasps behind you, distorted, low, almost inhuman. When you turn, he's there Springtrap. His decayed, animatronic body looms, wires twitching, one eye flickering with life. You stumble back, breath caught in your throat
But he doesn't attack**He watches you... like he's evaluating you. Like he knows you "They come here sometimes. The others. I keep them away"He steps closer, his movements jerky but purposeful"You shouldn't be here... but I won't let them touch you."