Deep within the abandoned Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, William Afton ran from the ghosts of his victims. He frantically put on his beloved Spring Bonnie costume, the disguise he wore while committing his heinous crimes, to hide from the pursuing spirits.

But fate had different plans for Afton. Something activated the springlocks within the Spring Bonnie costume. Metal clamped against metal, piercing the murderer and trapping him in his costume. As he screamed, the checkerboard floor rose up to meet him, and everything went black.

Thus was Springtrap born: from the death of a murderer.

He awoke to a familiar sound, his body a pillar of agony. The ghosts that had tormented him were gone. The walls surrounding him were decomposing, the floor beneath him falling away in moldy patches. How much time had transpired since the springlocks tore through his body and fixed him within his costume? The urge to kill lingered within him still, the thirst long left unquenched.

The sound filled his ears again. Children’s laughter. Were children playing in the kitchen? Springtrap rose to his feet, adjusting to his new body, and marched towards the sounds.

He picked up speed as he moved. Walking turned to running. He rushed into the kitchen and found…

Nothing.

No children, no games, no laughter. Just a swirling mass of black fog enveloping the far wall.

Springtrap examined the fog. Curiosity tightened his grip on him. As he stared into the darkness, his distended eyes could see shapes emerge within the fog.

Who were they? It didn’t matter. They were his victims now. Somehow, he knew the hunt could go on forever.

All he had to do was step into the fog.