Five Nights at Freddy's The Silver Eyes

look in his eyes. “They are still here.”
“How do you know?” Charlie said in such a soft whisper that she was almost
inaudible.
Carlton motioned toward the far corner of the room. Charlie looked; a yellow
Freddy costume was propped against the wall, the costume all fitted together, as if he
were about to walk out onstage for a show.
“That’s the one, that’s the bear I remember from the other restaurant.” Charlie
clasped her hand over her mouth.
“Other restaurant?” Carlton looked puzzled.
“I don’t understand.” Charlie’s gaze was still fixed on the yellow costume.
“Carlton, I don’t understand.” Her tone was urgent.
“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.
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