Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes(40)

He held up the piece of twisted metal, and showed them how it opened, then let it snap back in his hand. They both cried out in surprised, then started giggling and clapping their hands.

Their father did it again. “I could snap off your nose!” He said, and again they laughed, but quickly his face turned serious.

“I mean it,” he said. “This is a spring lock, and I want you to know how it works because it’s very dangerous, and I don’t ever want you touching these. This is why we never put our hands in the animal costumes; it’s very easy to trigger these if you don’t know what you’re doing, and you could get hurt. It’s like touching the stove—do we ever touch the stove?

They shook their heads with a solemnity beyond their years.

“Good. Because I want you both to grow up with all your noses!” He cried, and he swept them up, one in each arm, swinging them around as they laughed. Suddenly there was a loud snap.

Charlie jolted out of sleep.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” John said. The car was off. Charlie looked around; they were back at the motel.

Charlie took a moment to reorient herself then gave a reluctant smile. “Thanks for driving.”

“What were you dreaming about?” John said. “You looked happy.”

Charlie shook her head.

“I don’t remember.”





Chapter Six


The other car was gone from the lot, and when they went into the room, there was a note on Charlie’s pillow, written in Marla’s big, loopy handwriting.

We’re meeting for dinner at 6:30, and then going to you-know-where! She had written. See you two soon; don’t forget about the rest of us! XOXO Marla

She had drawn a smiley face and a heart below her name. Charlie smiled to herself, folding the note and slipping it into her pocket without showing it to John.

“What does it say?” He asked.

“We have to meet them at the diner in—” she checked her watch. “An hour.” John nodded. He was still standing in the door, waiting for something. “What?” Charlie said.

“I need to go change,” he said, gesturing at the rumpled clothing he was wearing. “Can I take your car?” He held up the keys and jangled them.

“Oh, yeah, of course. Just come back for me,” Charlie said with a grin.

He smiled. “Of course,” he added with a wink.

When the door closed behind him, Charlie let out a sigh. Alone at last. She was unaccustomed to so much company; she and Aunt Jen moved in their own orbits, meeting gladly from time to time throughout the day, but with the assumption that Charlie could take care of her own needs, or would speak up if she could not. Charlie never spoke up. She could feed herself, get to school and back, and maintain her high grades and casual friendships. What could Aunt Jen do about nightmares? About questions she did not really want the answers to? What could Aunt Jen tell her that was not even more horrific than what she already knew? And so, she was not used to the sustained presence of other people, and it was a little tiring.

She showered quickly and pulled on new clothes, jeans and a black t-shirt, then lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She had a vague sense that her mind should be racing with excitement, or horror at their discoveries, going over and over the memories she had awakened, searching for something new. Instead, she just felt blank. She wanted to be alone, to push the memories to the back of her mind, where they belonged.

After what seemed like only a few short minutes, there was a knock on the door, and Charlie sat up, checking her watch. More time had passed than she realized: it was time to leave. She let John in.

“I have to put on my shoes,” she said. She looked up at him as she knotted the laces. He had changed, this time into jeans and a t-shirt, a contrast with the formal clothes she had gotten used to. His hair was still wet, and there was something fresh and bright about him. She smiled a little.

“What?” He said when he noticed.

“Nothing,” she said, “You still look dirty.” She joked as she pushed past him. They got in the car. This time she drove, and when they reached the diner, Charlie turned off the engine and hesitated, not moving to leave the car.

“John,” she said. “I don’t want to tell anyone about Fredbear’s.”

“But—” he stopped himself. “Yeah,” he said. “I think we forget this is your life, and not just some adventure. It’s fine; I can keep a secret.”

“It’s all our lives,” she said. “We were all there. We can tell them later; I just want to sort some of it out for myself right now.”

“You got it,” he said, and he looked a little pleased. Charlie knew why—it was a secret between them, something she entrusted only to him.

When they went inside, everyone was already halfway through dinner. Charlie realized with a sharp pang that she had not eaten all day, and found herself suddenly starving. The waitress spotted them as they sat down, and came over immediately. They talked intermittently: Lamar, Jason and Marla had gone to a movie, and Carlton and Jessica had played video games at his house. But their conversation was cursory, just filling the time as they ate. Charlie barely listened, and she had the feeling that even those who were talking were paying little attention to their own words. There was an agitated energy among the group; they were all just waiting, their minds already focused on Freddy’s.