The Fourth Closet

by Scott Cawthon

“There!” Carlton pointed. A panel had opened while they were distracted. He rushed for it, and walked into a mirror, smacking his head on the glass. “Ow.”

  “It’s there,” Marla hissed, pointing to the opposite side of the enclosure.

  The panel began to swing shut, closing the room off again.

  “I’ll f-ind you …” The glitching voice had a strange, unsteady tone.

  “Carlton!” Marla stood in the gap, holding out a hand, and he ran for her, both of them making it through just as the panel rotated back to its position.

  “What were you going to do, stand there and let it crush you?” Carlton hissed.

  “I hadn’t considered we could get caught between the panels. This place is just asking for a lawsuit.” Marla straightened herself. “It’s been a lovely evening, but I think I’d like you to take me home now,” she said calmly.

  “Take you home? Take me home!” Carlton said before pausing to listen.

  “I know j-ust where you a-re …”

  They were in a hallway again, this one with two corners to choose from. They exchanged a grim look and turned to the left, moving slowly. Carlton kept his eyes on Marla’s shoes ahead of him, trying not to look at the walls on either side, where ranks of their duplicates marched silently beside them, misshapen and warped in the mirrors, then, occasionally, appearing normal. When they reached the corner, something flashed in the corner of his eye, a reflection of a reflection of giant eyes, staring at them. Carlton grabbed Marla’s shoulder.

  “Over there!” She shuddered.

  “I saw it, too.”

  “Come on, go, go, go,” Marla whispered. “Just follow me. Stay calm; remember, nothing can see us.”

  “I’m getting clo-ser …” The mechanical voice echoed through the chamber.

  “It’s just a recording,” Carlton whispered. “It’s coming from everywhere, I don’t think there is anything actually in here with us.” Marla nodded, looking unconvinced. A few steps ahead of them, panels began to pivot again, closing off their path: Carlton glanced behind them—the other end of the hall had closed, too. Marla inched closer to him.

  “I see you …”

  “Shut up,” Carlton whispered. He tried to slow his breathing so it made no sound, imagining the air going in and out, filling his lungs without touching the sides. The panel to their right began to swing open slowly, and they backed out of its way. Marla gasped, and Carlton grabbed her arm, seeing it: there was something behind the slowly opening mirror, though he couldn’t make out what. They backed up farther, taking small, cautious steps. Carlton searched the mirrored panels for an exit, but saw only his own face, bulging and deformed.

  “There you are …”

  The panel opened, revealing a kaleidoscope of purple, white, and silver, glancing off every mirror disjointedly. Carlton blinked, trying to make sense of the reflections, then a figure at the center stepped into the makeshift room.

  He was a bear, built like Freddy Fazbear, and yet entirely unlike him: his metal body was gleaming white, accented with vibrant purple. He held a microphone in his hand, the top sparkling like a disco ball, and on his chest, at the center of a purple metal shirtfront, was a small, round speaker. Only a few feet from them, the new Freddy turned his massive head from side to side, his eyes passing over them. Carlton glanced at Marla, who tapped her ear and nodded. He put his finger to his lips. Freddy took two steps forward, and they stepped back, pressing against the wall. Freddy looked from side to side again.

  “I kn-ow just wh-ere you are …” The sound was earsplitting, rattling Carlton’s teeth, but Freddy’s mouth did not move—the voice was projecting from the speaker in his chest.

  Carlton held his breath as the bear’s eyes passed over him, reminding himself that he was masked, but the bear’s eyes hesitated on him before moving away. Carlton could feel the sweat beading on his forehead.

  The wall behind them repositioned, and Carlton shifted his weight just in time not to fall, Marla moving just behind him. The panel swung open slowly, and they edged away as Freddy walked slowly in their direction, heading for the new exit—where they were now standing. Marla touched Carlton’s arm, guiding him to the side just as Freddy lumbered past them, his shiny surface almost brushing against Carlton’s nose.

  “I’m get-ing closer,” Freddy stuttered menacingly as he disappeared around a corner. The panel began to swing shut, and Marla pointed urgently to the door Freddy had come in. They raced for it, making it through just before the mirrors closed.

  Carlton and Marla stared at each other, gasping as if they’d run miles. “Was that Freddy?” she whispered. He shook his head.

  “I don’t know, but he was different,” Carlton said.

  “What? Different from what?”

  “The other animatronics we’ve seen so far. He was … looking at me,” Carlton said uncomfortably.

  “They’re all looking at us.”

  “No, he was looking at me.”

  “I can hear you; come on out!” Freddy called out as if on cue. His voice echoed through the maze of mirrors, as impossible to locate as it had been before. Carlton took a deep, steadying breath.

  “How are we supposed to get out of here?” he whispered, trying to sound calmer than he felt. “Where even are we?”

  “There, that light.” Marla pointed over their heads at the rafters above them, where a red stage light beamed down over the entirety of the maze.

  “What?”

  “I saw that light when we first came in, but it must have been at least twenty feet away, now it’s right over our heads. We just have to keep moving away from it now,” she said confidently. Carlton studied the ceiling for a moment, considering what she’d said.

  “I told you; I’m good at mazes.” She winked. “We just have to wait for the right panels to open.” She pointed toward a specific panel.

  “That could take ages,” Carlton said despairingly.

  “It will take longer if we don’t keep track of what direction we’re going in,” Marla said. “Come on.” She set off down the path she had indicated, and Carlton followed close behind.

  “I’m getting clo-ser …” Freddy’s voice resounded through the maze.

  “That sounded like it was behind us again. He’s coming around,” Carlton whispered.

  “Okay, okay. Then we go around, too.”

  “Just get us out,” he said quietly. Marla nodded, and they walked cautiously onward, flanked by their various, distorted duplicates.

  The pivoting panels forced them nearly in a circle before giving them a choice of direction, and Marla leaped on the chance, grabbing Carlton by the hand and almost running down the passage until they were stopped again, and made to turn.

  “Shh,” Carlton hissed frantically.

  Marla pushed experimentally on the side of one of the panels, but it didn’t budge; Carlton stepped up to help, throwing his full weight against the mirror, but even under their combined force, it would not turn. “I don’t know why I thought that would work,” Marla whispered.

  “I’ve almost g-ot you …” Freddy intoned. Marla looked around uncertainly.

  “I’ve got a really terrible idea,” Carlton said slowly. Marla gave him a warning look. “Are you still keeping track of where we are? Or at least, the direction that we should go?”

  “I think so,” she said, scanning the rafters again, a look of comprehension dawning on her face.

  “Close enough,” he said.

  “What are you going to do?” Marla asked, sounding like she already regretted it. Carlton took the flashlight out of his pocket and made a fist around it, wound up his arm, and smashed the butt of the light into the mirror in front of them. The glass shattered with a high, clear noise, and a dull pain reverberated up his arm.

  “I can h-ear you in th-ere …” Freddy’s voice sputtered from all around them.

  “Does he just say that, or did he actually hear that?” Marla said.

  The panel with the broken mirror swun
g open, but before they could move there was a rushing sound of heavy footsteps and crunching glass shards. Carlton held his breath, and nodded to Marla. Freddy stepped into the room with forceful steps, then immediately stopped in the center, his upper body slowly turning to scan the surroundings. Carlton and Marla crept around the glass shards, and snuck through the open panel behind the animatronic. In the corridor, Carlton looked questioningly at Marla, and she pointed. He nodded, strode to the farthest mirror, and smashed it.

  In an instant, Freddy pivoted toward them. The wide-eyed face turned from side to side. After a moment, another panel began to open beyond the freshly broken mirror. Carlton and Marla ran for it, the glass breaking beneath their feet. “There!” Marla yelled.

  Carlton looked up and could see an EXIT sign above a door, just a few yards from where they stood. Marla caught Carlton’s eye and mouthed, We’re almost there.

  “Come back here!” said Freddy’s maniacal voice, and then they all stepped out into the last passage: a jauntily painted ticket booth was visible, and beyond that, an open wall. Marla and Carlton exchanged a glance, and cautiously sped up. “Got you,” Freddy said. The speaker was right behind Carlton’s head, and Carlton startled, tripping over his own feet.

  He righted himself with a palm on the mirror, then took off after Marla, and ran straight into his own reflection, hitting his face on the glass. “Marla, wait!” he screamed: he could see her reflected in three mirrors, but was still unsure of where she had actually gone. “Wait.” He rubbed his forehead, and looked into the nearest mirror, trying to see if he was bleeding. He was not, but something was wrong. It took him a second to realize that his earpiece had been knocked loose. He looked around in panic, when suddenly Freddy loomed behind him in the mirror.

  Carlton froze in place; the massive white-and-purple bear’s head was staring at him from the mirror, looming over his shoulder. He looked down and saw the earpiece at his feet, in one swift motion he leaned down to grab it. His hands were shaking, and he struggled to get it back into his ear. When he looked up, Freddy was standing over him, and Carlton was lifted off his feet with a sudden, painful force. Carlton jerked and dropped back to the ground, the earpiece falling beside him.

  Freddy drew back and stared at Carlton for a moment, his eyes clicking back and forth, and his mouth opened just enough to reveal two long rows of perfectly polished white teeth. Carlton leaped toward the earpiece on the ground just as Freddy’s arm shot out and shattered another glass panel. Carlton hit the wall headfirst with a bang, and recoiled in pain.

  Freddy turned his head, first from side to side, then all the way around to face backward, his eyes searching wildly. Carlton scanned the ground in a panic, and saw the earpiece again, but it was in three places, in three mirrors. The glass crunched again nearby, but Carlton kept his eyes on the earpieces, switching from one to another in a desperate attempt to see which one was real. Suddenly, a human hand reached down and grabbed the earpiece in each of the three panels.

  “Carlton!” Marla called, and he turned toward the sound and saw her, not a reflection but the real Marla as she threw the earpiece to him. Carlton snatched the earpiece out of the air, and shoved it into his ear. Freddy stopped in place, his arms still outstretched. Carlton didn’t dare move, though the microphone was inches from his face. In his peripheral vision he could see Marla inching toward a door with EXIT over it. Freddy turned his head from side to side again as he slowly straightened from his attacking posture.

  “I’ll f-ind you …” came the voice from his chest, and he lowered his arms. Marla turned the doorknob, and pushed the door slowly open, just enough to see that it was unlocked. Scarcely breathing, Carlton backed away from Freddy, keeping his eyes on the animatronic until he was beside Marla.

  In one fluid motion, she eased open the door, they darted through it, then shoved it closed behind them. There was a deadbolt near the top, and Carlton flipped it, put his ear to the crack. There was nothing but silence from the other side, and he turned to Marla and heaved a sigh, light-headed with relief. They were in a dark hall, completely free of mirrors.

  “Dark, scary hallway,” Marla muttered.

  “It’s beautiful,” Carlton said.

  A scream ripped through the air from somewhere nearby, and they both froze.

  “Not finished yet,” Carlton said, and took off running toward the sound, Marla close at his heels.

  Everyone, be very quiet,” Jessica whispered. The children just stared at her, their eyes wide and solemn. They stood together in the back corner of the small, dank room, awaiting her instructions: Three-year-old Lisa was still huddled behind Ron, her chosen protector, and Alanna had taken hold of the little blond boy’s hand, though he was wriggling in her grasp. Jessica swallowed. Why do I have to be the leader? It’s bad enough when I’m just in charge of myself.

  She bent down to the children’s level, trying to summon some kind of leadership quality. Should have listened to Mom. Should have played a team sport. But no, I had to be the quiet girl in the corner chewing the eraser off her pencil.

  Jessica studied the door again, then took a more serious tone. “Is there something out there?” Alanna and Ron exchanged a worried glance. “What’s outside? You can tell me,” Jessica pleaded.

  “It comes in through the door,” Alanna said, not meeting Jessica’s eyes. “She …” The little girl broke off and covered her face, mumbling something unintelligible behind the mask of her hands.

  “She? Who, the … woman who took you?” Jessica asked gently, trying to contain her impatience. Alanna shook her head vigorously, her face still hidden.

  “We thought it was a toy. It wasn’t scary like everything else.” Ron searched for words, and Lisa tugged on his shirt and whispered something, too quietly for Jessica to make out. Ron nudged her. “Tell her.” Lisa looked up at Jessica with a suspicious expression on her grubby toddler’s face.

  “She’s all mangled up,” the girl said, then turned away again, hiding her face in Ron’s shirt. He gave Jessica a distressed look.

  “Who? Who’s all mangled up?” Jessica said slowly, searching her mind for what they might be talking about. “Was something broken? Did you break one of them?” she asked hopefully. The little kids all began to sniffle again, and she ground her teeth. “What is it?” Jessica nearly snapped, but none of them seemed to notice her tone.

  “It’s not broken,” Ron said, his voice rising in panic, and then the floor shook with a resounding thud. Alanna grabbed Jessica around the waist, and Ron huddled closer, pulling Lisa with him. The little blond boy stayed where he was, frozen in place with a look of terror. There was another thud, this time louder, then the pounding continued over and over, coming closer. Jessica could hear it moving in the hall, reverberating deep in her chest as whatever it was came thundering toward the door outside. She heard wood cracking, and clutched the children’s shoulders as something struck the wall three times in quick succession, rocking them all back. There was a final, clattering noise that seemed to come from all around.

  “What is that?” Jessica whispered, searching the walls and ceiling, unable to make sense of the noises. Then everything fell silent. They waited. Jessica listened, counting to ten, then twenty, and the sound did not come again. She counted to thirty, then sixty. I have to do something. She straightened, carefully extracting herself from Alanna’s grasp. “Wait here,” she whispered. She crept toward the door, stepping as softly as she could; as she moved she could feel their eyes on her. The door was ordinary-looking, a wooden door with a brass knob—the kind you’d see on a closet. Jessica took a quick, deep breath, then stretched out her arm to take the knob.

  Before she could touch it, the knob turned, and the door began to slide open. Jessica held her breath, and took steady steps backward, desperately wanting to rejoin the group, even if they were just children. At first, Jessica saw only pink and white, the shapes indistinct, then her mind made sense of it: slowly, the enormous head of a garishly painted
fox peered into the room.

  Foxy? Jessica thought, hazily taking in pointed pink ears and yellow eyes. Its cheeks were painted with red circles, like the animatronic girl’s had been. The creature looked at her for a long moment, and she stared back, unable to remember how to move her feet, and then the fox head retreated, and all the children screamed. Something new sprang violently into the room, a long and segmented metal limb like a spider’s leg. It braced against the floor just as a second metal leg violently invaded the space, embedding itself in the nearest wall. The children screamed, and Jessica raced toward them, looking frantically for a way out. The room was filling with arms and legs, extended and contorted, some with hands, others without. Jessica searched for a place to run through the steadily thickening mass of legs. Her eyes met the yellow eyes of the fox head, now suspended in the air by rods and beams. But there was another set of eyes as well. Does it have two heads? The unskinned metal skull lowered itself; it was connected to the mass above by cables and cords, and seemed to move of its own will.

  One high-pitched scream rose above the others, a blood-curdling wail. “LISA!” Ron cried, and Jessica saw that the thing had one hand on the little girl’s arm and was pulling her toward it. The skinless metal head studied her, then swiveled and swung on its cables to the others, taking an aggressive stance toward them as the metal limbs entangled the little girl and pulled her toward the door.

  “NO!” Jessica cried, climbing through the snares of metal coils and grabbing Lisa’s tiny hand. A violent surge threw her back, but she held fast to whatever she had managed to grasp, letting go only as she hit the floor. She struggled for air as she got to her feet, but the creature had already retreated through the doorway and disappeared. Jessica whirled, looking frantically to the children, and her heart nearly burst with relief: Lisa was on the ground beside her, and Ron and Alanna were helping her up. Jessica rushed to them. “It’s okay,” she whispered, then the momentary relief vanished. The blond boy, the one who might have been Jacob, was gone.

  “I couldn’t hold on to him,” Alanna wailed, as if reading Jessica’s mind.