#sightless au

Sightless AU by: @ghostmarsiii

Cute sketch request with Wally's AU from my telegram channel!!

Saw “Sightless” an AU-August prompt, and I felt like I had to try my hand at it. A blind Springtrap isn’t an original idea, but I don’t think it’s been handled as a Dark/Post-Fire Springtrap thing (which is weird, since he has apparently these pure-white pupils?).

Anyway, here’s what I’ve got for a re-contextualizing for one of FNAF’s more well-known scenes. I think the timeline’s slightly different here compared to my other works, but that’s probably a given.

—

The first thing Springtrap heard was material crumbling into dust. The first thing he felt was himself lying on the tiled floor now covered in rubble. The first thing he saw was...

Well, to his surprise, it was nothing. Nothing but a dark void. Even his ghost-vision was a bit askew, only able to track a rough outline of the area in violet hues.

“Of course,” he murmured in his head as he rose to his knees. “That stupid beam knocked out my sight as well as my consciousness. I knew it was a foolish move, but what other option did I have? Crawl through the vents and–?”

The faint rev of an engine cut off his musing. His head instinctively swerved towards the sound. His rabbit ears relaxed once the rev panned out of view. “It’s just a truck going down the road,” he reasoned with himself. “No one’s found me yet.”

Not that he could do much if someone did, of course, but he didn’t want to entertain that thought. Not after last night.

So, with practically nothing to do and everything to examine, he sat down and double-checked the rest of his robotic body. A bit of weakness in his left arm. His right ear twitched on its own a bit more often (he assumed it was due to a faulty wire). Upon further inspection, the worst damage that his survival attempt seemed to have caused was the pelvis section of the suit coming clean off. “Must’ve been snagged by some splinter on that beam,” he grumbled as he tried to adapt into a feasible sitting position. “That’s three things that stupid piece of architecture’s taken from me... Four, if I want to include what’s left of my dignity.”

He mused on other things to take his mind off that last idea. What exactly was he supposed to do now that he couldn’t see anymore? Get more remnant was a clear goal, sure, but this whole blindness ordeal made things just the slightest bit harder. Anyone who was fast enough could outrun him and hit him from behind. Anyone who was (gullibly) sympathetic would notice his plight and not give him that intimidation he so desperately wanted. Unless he found someone who found a shambling, unseeing rabbit absolutely terrifying, this was going to be a much rockier start to his new “life” than he thought.

He sighed deeply. His ears lowered. “Might as well wait here,” he thought as he listened to the faint sound of cars driving down the road. “Maybe some trash man will stop by and we can work something out. Could be an ambush. Could be a ride somewhere. I can’t be choosy..”

Set on this idea, he sat as still as he could. The nearby traffic became nonexistent. Any rubble still clinging to some higher place creaked and groaned, threatening to crash onto the floor at any moment. A few birds flittered in the air, but none dared land below. Even the warm sunlight struggled to give solace to the being left inside. Blind though he was, he could still feel the sensation these things gave him. Some sort of emptiness, perhaps. Bereft, if he had to be more specific.

As this emotion crawled into his very soul, a new noise almost jolted it out. Something fell onto a small object with a heavy crash. Distant static flooded his ears. His heart raced. “Ah-ha!” he cried out in his mind while actually grinning widely. “Some entertainment to help pass the time! That’s what I’ve been missing!”

He crawled a little closer to the source. His head tilted enough so that his better rabbit ear could catch the audio. The static remained, but new things popped up on the recording. Quiet, rhythmic beeping. A vague, murmuring conversation between people. The gentle shutting of a door as the person recording adjusts the device. Springtrap tried to envision the scene, but his theater of the mind refused to work with such unclear details.

Finally, something intelligible broke through. A sharp inhale, followed by a deeper exhale. Tension lingered for a few more seconds.

A man’s voice came through.

“Father,” he began in a frail tone. “It’s me, Michael.”

Springtrap’s ears raised. A ghostly imprint of someone flickered in his imagination. There was no chance it was... his Michael, was it?

“I did it,” Michael continued, his pre-recorded voice stabilizing a little. “I found it.”

Springtrap only crawled nearer. Questions bounced in his head. Found what? And where? What did he do??

”It was right where you said it would be,” Michael kept on, brushing past the obvious questions he should’ve answered. “They were all there. They didn’t recognize me at first, but then... They thought I was you.” He paused to let out a scoff (or a very hoarse chuckle).

That last sentence made Springtrap freeze. A more clear image entered his mind. His Michael, now 40-something, casually sitting down on some rubble with a tattered business suit. Some gray in his mullet-like hair, a less toned body than he had in his youth, and most likely some scars from whatever he had sent him to do. Honestly, it had been so long that he forgot he did such a thing.

Regardless, this phantom Michael aided Springtrap’s feeble mind as the recording played on. “And I found her,” the specter ‘said’, looking up at the sky with a somber expression. “I.. put her back together, just like you asked me to. She’s free now.”

Springtrap’s posture slumped. Elizabeth. How in the world did he forget her? Why did he assume that she wasn’t haunting anything down there?? Granted, that was before the spring-locks—

A dismal sigh emitted from Michael’s recording. The specter of him in the rabbit’s mind became more shadowy. “But something is wrong with me,” he added, gripping his arm with his hand. “I should be dead, but I’m not. I’ve been living in shadows...”

Springtrap winced. Ah. That explained the previous sounds. The beeping was a heart monitor. The conversation was either Michael with his nurse or his doctor and his nurse. The door shutting was the other person (or other people) leaving the room.

A twang of regret pulled the rabbit’s heartstrings. He shut his eyes and shook his head. The healthier “Michael” shifted into a more scarred and withered variation. Not necessarily zombie-like, of course, but something that better matched his tone.

After a moment of silence between them, Michael leaned towards his listener. “There is only one thing left for me to do now,” he resumed with a much more stern undertone. “I’m going to come find you.”

The static cut out. The vision of Michael vanished along with it. An ominous gust of wind replaced the deafening silence. The darkness thanks to the rabbit’s blindness settled back in.

Springtrap remained where he was. A lump formed in his marred throat. His body trembled. “‘I’m going to come find you’,” he repeated aloud, his own voice rendered hoarse and slow.

This was no longer a quest to get remnant to regain his sight.