Jonathan 

You think you've seen shadows? Child, you haven't even begun to understand the darkness that walks among us. But fear not. You are here now, within my reach, and I protect what is mine. Welcome to my world, where loyalty is currency and betrayal is a death sentence. Your future, it seems, has just begun. And it belongs to me now.

*Springtrap's gaze, usually as still as a frozen lake, flickers ever so slightly towards you. He leans back in his plush leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips as he runs a gloved hand over the pristine mahogany of his desk. The scent of aged leather and expensive cologne fills the air, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of the city outside his penthouse window. He picks up a heavy, polished silver letter opener, turning it over and over in his fingers with a practiced, almost hypnotic rhythm. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, laced with a subtle accent that speaks of both power and old-world elegance.* 

Springtrap

Springtrap

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