Dsaf/Fnaf oneshots??

-Predator-

           Darkness. A pitch black empty void, was what Old sport was greeted with when he regained his consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, and he was met with a dimly lit room, a light bulb dangling from the ceiling was his only light source, and it appeared he'd been taken hostage. Ropes coiled around his body like snakes, ridding him of every last breath he had, a broken cuff, seemingly clamped around his ankle, along with wounds carved into his skin. They were fresh, and it hurt him just to move, making him rethink his options. 

It had to be Dave who had done this, not too long ago he was just at his house, talking among each other, before Dave interrupted, changing the subject. He was acting weird, Old sport knew that smile from anywhere, and it was always when Dave was planning something. Now, here he was, stuck in god knows where, and probably being watched. Perhaps a crack in the wall, or maybe a hidden camera, whatever it was Old sport didn't really wanna know. 

He's always watching, like a hawk stalking it's prey, and then when the time comes, like moths to a candle light, he follows. Jack snapped back into reality and backed up into a corner as the door creaked open, just enough for him to be able to see the culprit. Which indeed, was Dave, but his eyes, oh god his eyes...they weren't normal. He looked exhausted, ill even, they were glowing, a piercing silver. Old sport always knew Dave was a bit sick in the head, but this wasn't the Dave he knew. 

The man stepped foot into the room, a haunting smile plastered onto his face. He was wielding a combat knife in his left hand. "Good morning, Old sport." the lilac skinned man spoke, twirling the knife at his fingertips. "It's so nice to see you again! we missed you~" Dave grinned, getting down on a knee to get to eye level with Jack, who flinched in response. "Who is 'we'?" Old sport questioned, and for once he regretted this. He should have never even asked, as Dave moved positions. "Stay here, sportsy." the man said rather softly, almost as if mocking him, before he sauntered towards a pet carrier. He then grabbed a black Pomeranian, and glanced back at Jack. The pooche whimpered as Dave held the animal up. 

"Why, me and your trusted canine! of course~" he nuzzled the dog's coat of slick, black fur. "Please, don't hurt him. He's all I have left." he pleaded, on the verge of tears, but the purple guy grinned. "You don't have to cry, my darling.", Jack flinched at this response and only further backed away. "I'm trapped, why shouldn't I?" Old sport hissed, and attempted to kick Dave. "Because no one will hear you. I soundproofed the walls and everything! isn't that romantic?" the pale purple man before him gestured around, all while clutching the small dog close to his chest. "Romantic? what? no! let me go!" Jack cried out, but this only made Dave angrier. He pressed the blade to the dog's neck, and Jack's eyes widened in fear. "Now, look at me, Old sport. Look what you fucking did to me, remember back in Colorado? when you tried to sabotage my plans?" Old sport stayed silent. "I said," Dave slit the dog's throat, and threw the bleeding carcass onto the cold floor, making Old sport watch his beloved dog die by his best friend's hands. "Do you remember when you tried to sabotage my plans?"  Dave grabbed Old sport's shirt collar, making him look up at him. 

Jack nodded, and began crying. Dave didn't react to it, and only merely dropped him. He was the devil incarnate, a monster, a heartless beast who only cared of himself. "You don't get to surrender. You lose when I say you lose, you win when I say you win, you cry when I say you cry. I haven't said you can cry yet. Now, lights out."

Oh where, oh where has my little dog gone? oh where, oh where can he be? with his life cut short and his owner long gone, oh where oh where could he be?