Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes(65)

Dave smiled unpleasantly.

“Don’t move,” he said again.



“He’s here, he has to be here!” Marla cried, staring despairingly at the door to Freddy’s. She was clasping and unclasping her hands, the knuckles going white. Charlie watched her, feeling helpless. There was nothing to say. The door was no longer covered in chains; instead it was simply no longer a door. It had been welded: the metal was melted seamlessly into the frame, and the hinges were gone, covered in crude, patchy solder. They all stared, not fully able to comprehend what they were looking at. Charlie shifted her feet. She had stepped in a puddle as they hurried from the car, and now her shoes and socks were soaked and freezing. It seemed unforgivable to be focused on her own discomfort, in such a moment, but she could not stop her attention from drifting to it.

“This is insane,” Marla said, her mouth agape. “Who does this?” She threw up her hands in frustration. “Who does something like that?” She was almost shouting. “Someone did that! Someone welded this shut. What if Jason is in there?”

Marla put her hands over her face, and Jessica and Lamar stepped forward to comfort her, but she waved them away.

“I’m fine,” she said tightly, but she did not move, still staring at the place in the wall that had once been a door. She looked smaller, lesser; the panicked energy that had been driving her was gone, leaving her empty, without purpose. She looked at Charlie, ignoring the others, and Charlie met her eyes uncomfortably.

“What do we do?” Marla said. Charlie shook her head.

“I don’t know, Marla,” she said uselessly. “If he’s in there, we have to get him out, there has to be a way.”

“There has to be another way in,” John agreed, though he sounded surer than Charlie felt. “Freddy’s had windows, a service door, right? There must have been fire exits. There has to be something!”

“Stop!” Marla cried, and they all froze in place. She was pointing at the floor.

“What is it?” Charlie said, coming up next to her.

“It’s Jason’s footprint,” Marla said. “Look, you can see the imprint, it’s those silly shoes he spent a year’s allowance on.”

Charlie looked. Marla was right; there was a muddy footprint about Jason’s size, still fresh. Marla’s face was alive again, fiery and determined.

“He must have just been here,” Marla said. “Look, you can see the tracks turn and leave again. The door must have been already welded when he got here. He’s probably still here somewhere; come on!”

Jason’s tracks were heading further down the alley, into the darkness, and the group crouched low to the ground, following his trail. Charlie hung back, not really helping, but keeping an eye on the bobbing flashlight ahead. There was something she was forgetting, something she should know. Something about Freddy’s. Noticing that she was apart, John let the others move ahead.

“You okay?” He asked in a low voice, and Charlie shook her head.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Go ahead.” He waited for her to say more, but she was staring ahead into the dark. Another way in.

“Found it!” Jessica’s voice pierced the dark, and Charlie came back to herself and jogged to catch up to the others. Lamar had the flashlight again, and he was aiming it at an air vent close to the ground.

The vent was old and rusty, and its covering was lying flat on the ground amidst scattered footprints and clumps of mud.

“Jason, what are you doing?” Marla gasped and knelt beside the vent. “What are you thinking?” There was an edge to her voice, something teetering between panic and relief. “We have to go after him,” she said, and knelt in front of the vent.

Charlie watched, dubious, but said nothing. It was John who spoke up.

“It’s too small,” he said. “I don’t think any of us will fit.”

Marla looked down at herself, then around at the others one by one, calculating.

“Jessica,” she said decisively. “Come on.”

“What?” Jessica looked to the side as if there might be another of her. “I don’t think I’ll fit, Marla.”

“You’re the skinniest,” Marla said shortly. “Just try, okay?”

Jessica nodded and went to the vent, kneeling in the muddy concrete that was the alley’s floor. She studied the hole in the wall for a moment, dropping to her hands and knees, and tried to squeeze in, but her shoulders barely cleared the space, and after a moment she pulled back out, out of breath.

“Marla, I can’t fit, I’m sorry,” she said.

“You can fit!” Marla said. “Please, Jessica.”

Jessica looked back at the others, and when Charlie saw her face it was almost white, and harshly expressionless. She’s claustrophobic, Charlie thought, but before she could speak, Jessica was back at the air vent, twisting herself, trying again to fit.

“Please,” Marla said again, and Jessica shot back out like something had bitten her.

“I can’t, Marla,” she said, her breathing shallow and fast, as if she had been running full-out. “I don’t fit!”

“There has to be another way in.” Charlie stepped in, reaching her arm between Marla and Jessica as though breaking up a fight.