Five Nights at Freddy's The Silver Eyes

hall, and Lamar, at the front of the group, stopped short. Charlie bumped into Marla
before she realized what was happening, and she murmured an apology, then froze.
The night guard was blocking the alley behind Freddy’s, his arms folded across
his chest. He had no flashlight, and so he had been invisible, hidden in the darkness until
they were almost upon him.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t leave it alone,” he said with an odd, uneven
smile.
Marla whispered something unpleasant under her breath.
“I could have you arrested for trespassing,” he said. “Saw you here last night,
but I couldn’t see where you got to; I guess now I know,” he added with a smirk.
There was something almost immediately off-putting about the man. He was
tall and slightly too thin for his uniform, which bagged at the shoulders and waist, as if
he had once been a more robust man, but lost his form somehow to illness or tragedy;
his nametag, reading “Dave” hung askew on his chest. His skin was sallow and his eyes
undercut by heavy lines, adding to the impression of longstanding ill health.
“What were you all doing back here, anyway?” He demanded. “You kids
partying? Drugs? I could have you arrested right now, you know.” Charlie and John
glanced at each other.
“We’re sorry,” Lamar said quickly. “We’ll go. We don’t have any drugs.”
“Says who? Says you?” The guard wore an odd expression and his were harsh
and fast; he seemed not to be responding to what they were saying. He looked angry, but
his mouth kept quirking up at the corners, like he was trying not to smile.
“What do we do?” Jessica whispered.
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