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Five Nights at Freddy's The Silver Eyes

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poked into him. He could feel raw p<strong>at</strong>ches on his skin, and could not tell if the thing he<br />

felt trickling down his back were swe<strong>at</strong> or blood. Something was pressing into the sides<br />

of his neck; when he turned his head, wh<strong>at</strong>ever they were dug in to his skin. <strong>The</strong><br />

costume’s fur was dirty and m<strong>at</strong>ted, a faded color th<strong>at</strong> might once have been a bright<br />

blue, but was now only a bluish approxim<strong>at</strong>ion of beige. He could see a head of the<br />

same color a few feet away, sitting on a cardboard box, and with a flicker of curiosity<br />

he looked <strong>at</strong> it, but he could not tell wh<strong>at</strong> it was supposed to be. It looked as if someone<br />

had been told “make an animal,” and had done just th<strong>at</strong>, careful not to make it look like<br />

any specific type of animal.<br />

He looked around the room, comprehension dawning. He knew where he was.<br />

<strong>The</strong> piles of fabric had faces: they were empty costumes, mascots from the restaurant,<br />

defl<strong>at</strong>ed, collapsed, and staring empty-eyed <strong>at</strong> him, like they wanted something.<br />

He looked around slowly, trying to assess calmly, though his heart was<br />

fluttering alarmingly in his chest. <strong>The</strong> room was small, a single bulb overhead lighting it<br />

dimly and flickering ever so slightly, giving the place a disquieting impression of<br />

movement. A small metal desk fan, brown with rust, was gently oscill<strong>at</strong>ing in the corner,<br />

but the air it blew was heavy with the smell of stale swe<strong>at</strong>; costumes left unwashed for a<br />

decade. Carlton was too hot; the air felt too thick, like it was not as full of oxygen as it<br />

ought to have been. He tried to stand, but without his arms he could not brace himself,<br />

and as he moved, he felt another violent wave of nausea, and a sudden, angry surge of<br />

the pain in his head.<br />

“I wouldn’t do th<strong>at</strong>,” a raspy voice muttered. Carlton looked around, seeing no<br />

one, then the door opened. It moved slowly, and somewhere bene<strong>at</strong>h his terror, Carlton<br />

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