Five Nights at Freddy's The Silver Eyes

she realized somewhere dimly in the back of her mind, was not good. When they got to
the others, her heart sank. Their faces were grim. Lamar was holding the flashlight out in
front of him, but it rattled in his trembling grip.
Marla gestured quickly to the entrances: Freddy stood in the hall to the storage
room, while Bonnie, reanimated, blocked the way to the office. Chica stood on the
stage, looming over them. Charlie glanced back the way they had come.
Foxy was approaching; he had freed himself. He stopped in the doorway as if
waiting for a signal. There was no escape. Suddenly acutely aware of everything around
her, Charlie noticed the sound of a music box, as if she had, unconsciously, been hearing
it all along. She took a deep breath. The moment seemed to go on forever. It had come to
this; they were trapped. They waited. Now, perhaps, for the animatronics, there was no
hurry. Charlie cast her eyes around futilely for a weapon, but there were only the party
hats and paper plates.
As one, the animatronics started their approach. Charlie grabbed the back of a
metal folding chair, not sure how she could even use it. The animals were moving faster
now, coming in unison, as if this battle were a choreographed dance. Marla took Jason’s
hand and whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, he shook his head, set his
jaw, and balled his hands into fists. Lamar glanced at him for a moment, but said
nothing. Jessica had her hands stiffly at her sides, and she was murmuring something to
herself, inaudible. The animals were almost on top of them: the music-box notes were
coming from Freddy’s direction—from in Freddy, she now realized, and his trundling
walk was predatory. Chica leaped from the stage and took small, bouncing steps toward
them as if excited, holding herself back. Bonnie’s big paw-like feet slapped the ground
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