Five Nights at Freddy's The Silver Eyes

seemed pleased but irritated at the same time, having been enjoying his own adventure
on the other side of the building. “Two seconds,” he promised, then disappeared again.
She rolled her eyes, disappointed but not surprised that his childish curiosity
would take priority. She rested the back of her hand against the aged wooden door and
gently guided it open, bracing herself against whatever might be inside. The door swung
open.
Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn’t it. It was a closet, the inside
extending off to her left, about eight or nine feet into darkness. There were horizontal
poles mounted along the walls where hangers had once been. Square shapes imprinted
in the dust filled her mind with images of boxes, maybe speakers.
As she stepped inside, she pushed the door open all the way, trying to let in as
much light as possible. As she walked further in, she let her hand drag along the wall.
Although nothing was there now, she could feel heavy cloth, coats and sweaters
hanging.
No. These were costumes.
Costumes had hung here in the dark, hiding their colors but allowing themselves
to be felt by every cheek and small hand that passed through. Rubber padded palms and
fingers swayed this way and that. Reflections on false eyes passed overhead.
Charlie reached the end and turned to look back. She crouched down, looking up
at the empty space. It didn’t feel empty. She could still feel the costumes; they were
hanging all around her. There was someone else in the closet with her, kneeling down at
her own height. It was her friend, the little boy.
My little brother.
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