“Why is there power?” Jessica whispered, reaching over Jason to pull the door closed again.
“How is that possible?” Charlie said. “This place hasn’t been open in ten years.”
“Cool,” Marla leaned forward, studying the monitors as though expecting some sort of answer to be revealed.
“Turn on the TVs,” Jason said suddenly. “I can’t reach.” Jessica flipped on the first TV, and static crackled across the screen.
“Nothing?” Charlie said impatiently.
“Just a sec.” She twisted a dial, wiggling it back and forth until an image emerged: it was the stage, centered on Bonnie. The other animals weren’t visible. Jessica turned on the rest of the TVs, adjusting them until the pictures became clear, although most were still poorly lit.
“They still work,” Charlie said almost under her breath.
“Maybe,” Jessica said. “Hey, someone go out there, see if the camera is live.”
“Ok,” Marla said after a brief hesitation, wriggling her way to the exit and awkwardly climbing over Jason. A moment later, she appeared on camera, onstage beside Bonnie. Marla waved. She appeared multicolored as the stage lights bathed her in purple, green, and yellow from different sides.
“Can you see me?” She said.
“Yeah,” Carlton shouted. Lamar was staring at the buttons.
“What do these do?” He said with a wicked grin, and pressed one.
Marla screamed.
“Marla are you okay?” Charlie shouted. “What happened?” Marla was standing still on the stage, but she had backed away from Bonnie, and was staring at him as if he might bite.
“He moved,” Marla yelled. “Bonnie moved, what did you do?”
“Marla!” Jessica yelled, laughing. “It’s ok! We pushed a button!” Lamar pressed the button again, and they all watched the screen this time. Sure enough, Bonnie turned stiffly to one side. He pressed it again, and the rabbit swiveled back to face the absent audience again.
“Try another one,” Carlton said.
“Go ahead,” Lamar said, and climbed out of the little room to join Marla onstage. He crouched down to inspect Bonnie’s feet. “They’re attached to a swiveling panel,” he called.
“Yeah?” Jessica called back, not really listening.
Carlton started pressing buttons, as the rest of them watched the cameras. After a moment, Charlie left the room as well. “It’s too stuffy in here,” she said. Jessica’s perfume and Carlton’s hair gel, both of which smelled nice enough out in the open, were starting to form a sickly miasma. She stepped out into the open to watch them experiment with the animals onstage. Most of the dining room was still dark. There were three colored spotlights suspended from the ceiling, aiming beams of purple, yellow, and green at the stage. The animals were cast now in unnatural colors, and dust in the beams of light shone like tiny stars, so many that it was difficult to see through them. The floor beneath the long tables was dusted with glitter that had fallen from the party hats, and as she looked around she noticed again the drawings that lined the walls of the place, all at the height of children’s eyes.
They had always been there, and Charlie wondered now where her father had gotten the first ones, when the restaurant opened. Had he used her own childish scribblings, or had he made them himself and stuck them up, forgeries to encourage actual children to display their art? The thought of her father hunched over his workbench, gripping an unsteady crayon with hands accustomed to manipulating microchips, made her want to giggle. She noticed the flashlight still on in the center of the room, and went to switch it off. Don’t waste the battery, she said in her head, in chorus with Aunt Jen’s voice.
She turned her attention to the stage. It looked like they had gotten Chica and Bonnie to go through a series of movements, but they were small and specific; they could each swivel their entire bodies back and forth, and their hands, feet, and heads could be moved in various directions, but it looked like each movement was separate.
Charlie went back to the control room and stuck her head in.
“Can you make them do the dance?” She asked.
“I don’t know how.” Carlton said, leaning back away from the monitors. “All of this must have been used to program the dances. I don’t think someone was in here manually controlling everything during the shows.” He shook his head with certainty. “That would have been impossible.”
“Huh,” Charlie said.
“Everyone quiet,” Marla called out, and they all fell silent. For a long moment there was no sound, then Lamar said:
“What?”
Marla frowned, tilting her head to the side, listening for something. “I thought I heard something,” she said finally. “It was like… pings of a music box?” Her mouth barely moved as she spoke. “It’s gone.”
“Why isn’t Freddy moving?” Charlie said.
“I don’t know,” Carlton said. “I can’t find the controls for him.”
“Hmm,” Jessica said, tapping the monitors. “These cameras don’t show the whole place."
Charlie peered at them, but they were mixed up, in no logical order. She couldn’t piece together a picture of the whole restaurant.
“There’s three cameras on the stage, one on each animal, but there should be one on the whole thing,” Jessica was saying. “There’s the entrance to the kitchen, but not the kitchen itself, and you can’t see the hallway and the room with the little stage we were at last night.”
“Maybe the cameras are just in the main room?” Carlton said.
“Nope,” said Jessica. “There are cameras everywhere out there.”
“So?” Carlton said.
“So, there’s got to be another control room!” Jessica said triumphantly. “Maybe down the hall by the other stage.”
Charlie went back out into the main room again. She was feeling restless, less excited by the discoveries than the others, though she was not sure why. She watched the stage. Carlton was still playing with the buttons, Bonnie and Chica jerking in small, disjointed motions as Freddy Fazbear remained motionless, his eyes half-closed and his mouth slack, slightly open.
“Hey,” Lamar said suddenly. “Marla. The music. I hear it now.” Everyone was silent again, then Marla shook her head.
“Creepy.” She said, more excited this time and rubbing her hands together as though they were sharing campfire stories. Lamar looked thoughtfully at Freddy.
“Let’s go find the other control room,” Jessica said, emerging with a determined look on her face.
“Okay!” Marla jumped from the stage to join them, and they started scanning the rest of the stage, looking for a second door.
“I’m staying in here,” Jason called from the first room. “This is so cool!” Chica swiveled back and forth rapidly on the stage as he pushed her button repeatedly. Lamar went to join Jason.
“Ok, my turn.” He said, leaning in the door. He went in, not waiting for Jason’s response.
Charlie stayed where she was, still staring at Freddy, frozen in the middle of his act. John came up next to her, and she felt a flash of irritation: she did not want to be cajoled into joining in the search. He stood there for a moment, looking at Freddy, then leaned in close to her and whispered:
“I’m counting to 100. You’d better hide.”
Surprised out of her thoughts, she looked at him for a moment, her irritation broken. He winked at her, then covered his eyes. It was absurd, it was childish, and in that moment it was the only thing she wanted to do. Slightly giddy, Charlie took off, looking for a place to hide.
Jason pushed the series of buttons again with increasing frustration.
“I’m bored now,” he announced.
“How can you be bored?” Lamar said, wide-eyed.
“They aren’t working anymore.” Jason continued to press buttons, no longer watching the monitors.
Lamar studied the monitor. Bonnie’s head was up and turned to the side, his eyes appearing to watch the camera. “Well, go
find your sister then,” he told Jason.
“I don’t need her permission to be bored!” Impatiently, Jason climbed up and out of the control room.
“Everyone is so sensitive.” Lamar muttered, suddenly realizing he was alone in the control room. He climbed out, but Jason was already gone.
Jessica was leading the exploration party, heading toward the little stage they had discovered the night before. Marla looked back and saw Jason skipping to catch up just before they disappeared into the long hall.
“Hey, be careful!” She called over her shoulder, as Jason branched off in his own direction. Lamar caught up to the group, and followed them on their way and into the hall. The main dining room was empty now, though Jason could hear Charlie and John’s playful shouts echoing from the party rooms that extended off the main building. Left alone, Jason headed straight for the arcade.
It was more dimly lit than the rest of the place, and without power the arcade machines appeared as towering black monoliths in a forgotten graveyard; the air was stale and thin. Jason went to the nearest console and pressed a few buttons, some stuck with age, but nothing happened.
Plug it in, duh. He ducked behind the games to check, but even though the mounds of wires seemed impossibly tangled, it looked like they were plugged in. Maybe there’s a switch for the whole room? He started checking the walls.
There was no obvious switch, but as Jason scanned the walls, he became distracted by the children’s drawings taped in clusters across the walls. Jason was too young to have any memories of his own from being at Freddy’s: even Hurricane itself was no more than a hazy set of impressions. But something about the pictures brought up a sense of nostalgia. They were all the same, really, the kinds of drawings he and every other kid had done—figures with circles for bodies and sticks for arms, in a multitude of colors. Only a few details showed which figures were the animals: Chica with her beak, and Bonnie with his ears. It seemed like there had been a bit more attention paid to the drawings of Freddy Fazbear; they were a little better, the children had been a little more careful to make the details right. Jason found himself looking at one drawing in particular. It was the same as the others, maybe a little better: Bonnie the Bunny hugging a child. There was no name at the bottom. Jason took the picture off the wall, uncertain why this one in particular had interested him so much.
John burst his head into the room with a wide grin and deep breath, but then seeing that it was only Jason inside he quickly returned to a stoic demeanor. “What’s up?” He nodded his head, playing it cool, then casually stepped away before silently returning to a sprint.
Playing hide-and-seek like babies, Jason thought, I hope I never fall in love.
He looked back down at the drawing, and squinted as though not seeing correctly.
The child was now facing away from Bonnie. Jason stared for a long moment. Wasn’t he hugging Bonnie? He looked out at the main room, but Marla was out of sight, looking for the control room. Jason folded the drawing carefully and put it in his pocket. It was suddenly apparent how quiet it had become outside. Jason stepped out timidly and peeked into the dining room. “Guys?” He whispered, looking back once, then ventured out to find the group.
Jessica, Lamar, Carlton, and Marla were still creeping slowly through the other half of the building. The spotlights from the dining room didn’t reach this far, only accenting edges and corners, or specks of glitter. Jessica scanned the wall with her flashlight, looking for breaks in the plaster, and motioned to Marla to do the same.
“We have to check for a hidden door,” she said.
“The last one wasn’t really hidden,” Carlton pointed out.
“Yeah,” Jessica conceded, but she kept her light on the wall, clearly not ready to give up the hunt. They passed two bathrooms they had not noticed the night before.
“Do you think the plumbing still works?” Carlton said. “I really need to pee.”
“What are you five years old? I don’t want to hear that.” Jessica rolled her eyes and walked faster.
When they got to the room with the little stage, everyone stopped. Marla and Lamar went closer to the stage, drawing together slightly as if unaware they were doing it. Even though Carlton and Jessica had been here the night before, it was as though they were seeing it anew through Marla and Lamar’s eyes. They still had not seen what was behind the curtain, Carlton realized suddenly.
“I remember these posters,” Lamar said.
“I remember this too,” Marla said, pointing to the sign that read “Out of Order” strung across the stage. “My whole life I’ve felt uneasy when I’ve seen that phrase, even if it’s just at a vending machine.” She laughed insincerely.
“I know what you mean,” Lamar said softly, but before he could go on, Carlton interrupted.
“Found it.”
“Maybe,” Jessica amended. There was a door, close-set into the wall like the one below the stage—not quite hidden, but not meant to be noticed. It was painted black, like the walls of the room. Jessica turned the knob and pulled, but it was stuck tight.
“Locked?” Lamar said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Let me try,” Marla said. She grabbed the knob and yanked, and it came open, sending her stumbling back.
“Impressive!” Lamar said.
“Yeah, well, taking care of Jason makes me tough.” Marla grinned, as she knelt down to squeeze through the small door.
It was almost the same as the first room: a set of eight TV screens, and a large panel of unmarked black buttons. Carlton fumbled to find the master switch, reaching his hand into a dark corner. Then, with a click, the power came on and a soft buzzing sound filled the room. Rich, bizarre reds and blues began streaming in under the door from the stage lights outside. Jessica and Carlton began switching the televisions on; they fiddled with the knobs until they were showing pictures, though most were very dark. From here, they could see a long shot of the main stage, just as in the other room, but the rest of the cameras were showing other places and angles. While the first control room had only had shots of the main dining room, here they could see into other areas of the restaurant—the private party rooms, which were set up with glittery decorations for events that would never happen; hallways; an office; and even what looked like a storage closet. The room behind them was visible as well, the camera trained on the “Out of Order” sign, now lit with otherworldly shades, and the curtain behind it. On one screen they could see Jason, ducking back into the arcade.
“Maybe I should go get him,” Marla said, but no one responded.
Carlton started pressing buttons. Spotlights appeared and vanished on the stage in the main dining room as he did, illuminating first one animal and then another, lighting up empty spaces where someone once might have stood. He flipped a switch and it seemed, for a moment, that nothing happened, then Lamar started laughing, pointing at one of the screens. The pizza decorations lining the walls were spinning wildly, as though they might leap off and go rolling away.
“I forgot they used to do that,” Lamar said, as Carlton brought them slowly to a halt.
There was a large black dial to one side of the buttons, and Carlton spun it, but it seemed to do nothing.
“Let me try,” Lamar said. He elbowed Carlton to the side, and pressed another button. There was a high-pitched whine; they all jumped, and it quickly faded down to a static hum. Lamar pressed the button again, and the sound was gone.
“I guess we know what turns the speakers on,” Carlton said.
“I bet we could figure out how to play the music,” Jessica said. She reached forward and pushed something else, and stage lights popped up while the main lights dimmed. The figures on the main stage suddenly stood out a little, commanding attention. She pushed it again and the lights faded back to normal.
“I love that,” Carlton said.
“What?” said Marla.
“Stage lights,” he said. “One switch, and it’s like a whole ‘nother worl
d up there.”
Another button flickered the stage lights on and off in the room behind them, while another started and stopped the little merry-go-round, its tinkling music grinding too slowly, as if the ride itself were trying to remember how the song went. They managed to get the speakers on again without the feedback whine, but there was still only static.
“I have an idea,” Jessica said, and pushed to the front of the group. She switched on the static again, then started turning the knob back and forth. The hum grew lower in pitch, then higher, responding to her adjustments.
“Progress.” Carlton said.
“It’s still just static,” Marla said, unimpressed. Jessica turned it lower again, then snatched her hand from the dial like she had been bitten and punched the button, shutting the speakers off.
“What?” Marla said.
Jessica remained motionless, her hands still suspended in the air.
“What happened? Did it shock you?” Carlton said.
“It sounded like a voice,” Jessica said.
“What did it say?” Marla said, apparently interested again.
“I don’t know. Let me try again.”
She turned the speaker on again, calling forth the static, and lowered the hum as they all listened, intent on the sound. As it sank to a lower register, just below the range of a human voice, they all heard it: grinding and broken words, almost too slow and distorted to be considered speech. They looked at each other.
“What on Earth?” Marla said.
“No, it’s just random static,” Lamar said. He reached for the controls and dialed the pitch back up slowly. For another fleeting moment, there was a purposeful sound.
“That sounded like singing,” Carlton said.
“No,” Lamar said, but sounding more unsure this time.
“Do it again,” Marla said. Lamar did, but this time the static was empty.
“Is that Charlie?” Marla suddenly became focused on a blurry figure moving down the dark hall toward them, sliding along the wall as though to remain unnoticed.
Charlie was hurrying, almost skipping, and trying to find another place to hide. She glanced behind her, vaguely suspecting that John might be cheating. She moved through the darkness and toward the colorful glow of the small stage curtain, which was throwing eerie reds and blues onto the tables and party hats. Going down this passage had always felt like a long and perilous journey, one not to be made alone. She kept her gaze fixed behind her, letting the wall beside her guide her step. She knew John was close, probably creeping up on her in the dark. Suddenly she backed into something, stopping short. She had been moving faster than she thought, or more likely the hall was not as long as she remembered.
Five Nights at Freddy's_The Silver Eyes Page 9
