Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes(75)
“Michael.”
Charlie stared at him. Michael?
“What do you mean?” She said in a level voice.
“I know how it sounds,” he said, then his voice dropped to a whisper. “Charlie, I think it’s Michael in that suit.”
“I still can’t get this thing out!” John sighed in frustration and rubbed his hand; the lock was leaving harsh red imprints on his fingers. Jessica murmured something sympathetic, but did not take her eyes off the screens.
“I can’t see anything!” She burst out after a moment.
The radio squawked, and then Marla’s voice came, calling to them from the control room in Pirate’s Cove.
“Both of you, be quiet and don’t move.” They froze, hunching down in their places. Jessica looked at John, a question in her eyes, but he shrugged, as at a loss as she was.
Something thudded against the door, and John jumped away, almost falling.
“Marla?” Jessica said with a pale expression. “Marla, that’s you out there, right?” The thud came again, more powerful than the first, and the door shook under it.
“What is that, a sledgehammer?” John whispered hoarsely. The door pounded in again and again, dents appearing in the metal door that had looked so solid. They huddled back against the control panel, with nothing to do but watch. Jessica grabbed the back of his shirt, knotting the cloth between her fingers, and he did not shake her away; the door rocked in again, and this time a hinge unfolded slightly, exposing a thin crack between the door and the frame. The door still held, but it would not hold for long. John felt Jessica’s fingers tighten on his shirt, and he wanted to turn and give her some kind of comfort, but he was mesmerized, unable to look away from the door. He could almost see out through the little open space, and he craned his neck; another blow came and the crack widened, and at once from the other side he saw eyes, peering in, calm and expressionless.
“Get out, get out!” Marla shouted, waving her hands at the security monitor as if John and Jessica could see her, as if it would do any good if they could. Lamar had both hands clapped over his mouth, his eyes wide, and Jason was sitting on the floor, waiting nervously as though an attack on their own door might begin at any moment. The monitors were dark, but it was clear that something large was lurking in front of the main stage, a black static shape that prowled back and forth, momentarily blocking the entire picture.
“Marla.” Lamar said in a whisper, hoping quiet her, “Marla, look—.” He pointed to the monitor showing Pirate’s Cove, just outside their door. Marla looked over his shoulder at the other screen: the curtain was pulled back, and the space was completely empty. The “Out of Order” sign hung perfectly straight across the platform, untouched. “The lock, we didn’t…” Marla said feebly, realizing now the magnitude of their mistake. Marla turned to Jason, then let out a panicked whimper—the door behind him was slowly opening.
“Shhh.” Lamar quickly flipped a small switch, killing the light in the control room, and backed against the wall next to the door. Marla and Jason mimicked his motions, flattening themselves against the wall across from him. The monitors still flickered with static, illuminating the space in oscillating greys and the occasional flash of white.
The small door creaked outward at an excruciating pace, a gaping black void widening until the door stopped, fully open. “Marla!” A static-laced voice called from somewhere on the floor. Lamar shot out his foot across the narrow carpet, trying to catch the walkie–talkie.
“Shhh, Shhh.” Marla closed her eyes, pleading with Jessica in her mind to stop talking. “Marla, where are you?” Jessica’s voice called again. Lamar managed to flip the walkie-talkie onto its side, and with a click it went silent. He didn’t know if he had jostled a battery out of place or somehow managed to flip the switch, but it didn’t matter.
In the tiny room, there was no way to hide. The ceiling was too low to stand, and even with their backs against the wall their legs stretched out and under the door frame. The ledge under the door was high enough to hide their legs from anything outside, but not from anything that managed to get in.
As one, they stopped breathing. The room was no longer empty: something was entering the space. As it pressed forward into the room they saw a snout, with the scratchy gloss of two unblinking eyes staring straight ahead. The monstrous head threatened to fill the room.
“Foxy.” Jason mouthed, making no sound. The plastic eyes clicked left and right with unnatural motions; searching, but not seeing. The jaw twitched as though about to open, but never did.
The dim light from the monitors gave his face a reddish hue, leaving the rest of him shrouded in darkness. The head slowly moved backward, its ears moving up and down at random, programmed as an afterthought a decade before. As Foxy backed away, his eyes thrashed back and forth, one partially hidden under a rotting eyepatch. Marla held her breath, dreading the moment when the eyes would fix on her. The head was almost out the door when the eyes clicked to the right and found Marla. The head stopped its retreat, its jaw frozen, slightly open. The plastic eyes remained on Marla, who sat in terrified silence. After a moment, the head retreated, leaving a black and empty space.
Jason darted forward to find the door outside and shut it, and Marla made a weak grab at him, trying to stop him. He brushed past her, then stopped, kneeling in the doorway. He looked into the darkness, only now afraid of what must be there. He crawled slowly forward, his torso disappearing temporarily as he reached outside for the doorknob, then pulled himself back in and gently closed the door. Marla and Lamar closed their eyes and let out a deep breath at the same time.