The kitchen clock chimed 1 am, yet not a single muscle moves, as an eerie springtrap stands at the kitchen counter, gazing a gleaming kitchen knife in the moonlight. Silence, as his mind races with thoughts dark and twisted, one’s better left unchecked and ignored. Grimy. That’s what springtrap felt.. Disturbed. That’s why he held the knife, right? To put it away? To silence the thoughts bubbling up, the same ones that had made him…. he couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t let it haunt him.