okay but are we pro red-eyes for the FNAF movie or anti red-eyes

Michael stared at Freddy. His heart was pounding almost painfully in his chest as he pressed further to the wall, now thoroughly trapped by the animatronics cornering him at either door. He tried to speak, but his voice seemed caught in his throat as a gleaming silver hook curled around the doorframe, winking at him in the dim light.

"Decided to come back, did you?" hissed a girl's voice from the other door, causing his head to whip toward it. "Apparently he didn't get enough last time," someone else, a boy in the darkness snarled.

Foxy chuckled humorlessly from the other side of the office. "I'm not complaining. I wouldn't mind seeing him scream again," he grinned, and Michael noted with dread, a long metal tongue snaking to lick his pointed teeth.

"Then let's not waste time." The bear growled.

Suddenly, without warning, Foxy and Freddy leapt into the office and seized him; Michael's eyes widened with a gasp as he felt the tip of a hook digging into his arm and a hand with surprising strength gripping the other as he was dragged backwards into the hallway. The sight of the office began to grow smaller as Bonnie and Chica emerged from its rusted doors to follow them.

He craned his head back to see where their apparent destination was- Freddy and Foxy were beelining for the Parts & Service room.

"H-Hey- Hey-!" he protested, finally finding his voice as they pulled him into the dining room, grinding his heels into the tile in a vain attempt to slow his captors. "Stop!" he shouted, heart pounding as they crossed past tables.

"Just be quiet. No one is gonna hear you anyway," Bonnie scowled, eyes narrowing as he continued to struggle.

"It was a mistake for you to come back here, Afton," Chica added as they stopped.

"I'm not who you think I am, I didn't kill you!" Michael argued, feeling quite frantic now as he heard Freddy fiddling with the door behind him. "Please, you need to listen to me-"

He gasped in pain as Foxy's hook punctured his arm.

"Shut up," the fox hissed dangerously, his jaw close to the boy's ear as blood trickled slowly from his shoulder. "I don't know how you crawled back from the dead, but either way, you're done talking, you're done being in charge, you chose to come back here, and now you're gonna pay the price for it. So just shut up."

With horror, Michael heard the door open as they began to move again into darkness, the dozens of spare heads and masks staring at him from their shelves as he was forced to a cold metal table.

"What do you think, Gabe?" asked Foxy, not taking his glowing yellow eye from Michael as he picked at his teeth with his hook lazily. "Should we play with him this time? Not fair that he got to with us..." he murmured hungrily. Freddy eyed him and frowned, not taking as much pleasure in this as his partner was. "I don't care. I just want to get this over with." He grumbled.

"Bit boring, but fine. I'll be quick so you two can have a piece," Foxy grinned, glancing back at the door where Chica and Bonnie were standing and smiled maliciously, lowering his hook over Michael's face.

"Let's see how much of this you remember, you sick freak," he snarled.

The boy's eyes widened and he only had time to open his mouth as Foxy raised his hand to strike, when Chica suddenly seized his arm to stop him.

"Wait!" She protested.

"What now?" Foxy demanded irritably.

She stared at Michael, searching his expression. His chest heaved, heart pounding painfully as Freddy maintained a tight grip on his shoulder while he stared back, wondering what could have provoked her to protect him.

"I... I don't think that's him..." she admitted finally in a quiet voice.

"'Scuse me?" scoffed Foxy, looking at her skeptically. "Just a minute ago you thought it was like the rest of us-"

"But those aren't his eyes. Look at his eyes!" She argued.

Bonnie peered around her to look at Michael, realization dawning on his face. "Blue..." he murmured.

"They're not dark, like his was," she added as Freddy leaned closer to look at him, and he couldn't help but press back into the table, not forgetting what they'd planned to do only moments ago. Foxy looked rather awkward while they collectively acknowledged the unmistakable. "Okay, fine, he's not an identical match," he admitted with a grumble. "But what's up then, huh? He looks really stinkin' close. And how'd he know we'd be here?"

At last, Michael felt some ease now that their torturous plans seemed to be on hold.

"Your killer- he's my dad-" he began, and before he could continue, Foxy recoiled with a revolted look on his face.

"Oh great, loads better. You anything like your pop?" He snarled.

"Fritz," Chica chided warningly, though she still looked wary as she cast a glance at Michael.

He could feel the frown tight on his face as he looked back at them, gaze flicking momentarily to the shelves and masks decorating the walls. Their shells looked nightmarish in the darkness. He locked Evan in a room like this once...

"I don't fancy the idea of killing anybody if that's what you're asking," he finally answered quietly. "And actually, I came here because I need your help."

"Our help?" Bonnie questioned apprehensively, one long ear bobbing as he tilted his head. "Why would you need anything from us?"

"Because the person I'd usually go to can't help me..." Michael replied hesitantly. "She's... in trouble."

"Who is?" asked Chica.

His gaze met hers, and he knew he wouldn't need to elaborate the answer he would give. "Charlie," He spoke.

Suddenly, the animatronic suits seemed to melt away, leaving four ghostly, pale children in their places. Michael couldn't help but gape, gaze turning to each individual, recognizing them from his months of study. Fritz Todd, curly-haired and bespeckled hovered where Foxy had been, Jeremy Drake with glasses much too large in place of Bonnie, Gabriel Brown instead of Freddy...

Susie Harding with pearly-white curls framing her face raised a hand to her mouth, looking anxious as the boys exchanged worried glances.

"Charlie?" She whispered in a troubled tone. "What's happened, what's wrong?"

"A lot of stuff has happened lately," Michael answered. "But the bottom line is she's not in her right mind and I don't know who else to go to. It's all to do with my dad, that's why I need your help," he begged.

At the mention of William, they all tensed, and Jeremy cast an anxious look at Gabriel. "We thought maybe there was something she left unfinished," he mumbled quietly.

Michael raised an eyebrow, confused. "Sorry-?"

"She didn't move on like the rest of us," Gabriel elaborated. "We guessed that she still had some things to take care of, which is why she didn't leave." As he spoke, Susie crossed her arms, looking uncomfortable. "Which was weird," she started. "Because it looked like she meant to. Come, I mean. But you're talking like she's corporeal or something, more than we are."

"Yeah... she is," Michael spoke. "It's like she's stuck in a cross between a ghost and the puppet."

"That must be it, then," Jeremy murmured. "She still had unfinished work to do."

Fritz growled lowly. "Unfinished work being that the periwinkle-wonder didn't kick the bucket after all, huh?" He seethed. "After all we did?"

Michael nodded sheepishly, slipping off the table before leaning back on it, hands gripping its lip. "Yeah... yeah," he murmured quietly as the children all looked at each other. He didn't catch their expressions, pondering the thought still hanging in his head. "You said Charlie hadn't 'moved on' like the rest of you. But you showed up when I called. Wouldn't that mean you're still stuck here?" He asked, looking up at them.

Susie blinked in surprise at his question. "An imprint has been left here, but we're not contained to it. We live in the beyond like everyone else," she answered knowingly. "We've left the trauma of what happened here behind... mostly."

"Oh..." Michael acknowledged quietly. But her answer hadn't entirely reassured him, and she seemed to notice.

"Is there someone you're thinking of?" She asked gently.

He could only nod, eyes now on the floor, his initial mission and inquiries a mile away. "What... makes someone haunt something?" He asked.

Gabriel and Jeremy looked a little more surprised at his question, but Susie seemed like she expected it. "Well... a couple of things..." she started. "Charlie anchored us here for a little while because we wanted to avenge our deaths, but we didn't have enough vengeance to do it ourselves."

"Vengeance?" Michael asked.

"Charlie didn't move on because she was so full of it," Jeremy answered quietly. "She never really explained why, but it must have been something serious like a betrayal or a sadistically motivated murder. Something like that."

Gabriel shifted, arms crossed as he looked at the tile. "Vengeance is part of why she was so powerful," he spoke. "We know she let some other souls go instead of making them stay here. She's got a lot of dominance over this spirit stuff."

Michael nodded once. That would make sense, given everything he had already witnessed her do. It was no wonder she remained here while William was still living, hidden away... but he still felt uneasy with their answers. "Are there... any other ways hauntings can happen?" He asked quietly.

"Sure," Fritz answered, eyes piercing him. "Like tragedies."

The boy's heart sank.

"What kind of tragedies..." he whispered.

Fritz crossed his arms. "Accidents. Stuff that wasn't supposed to happen," he elaborated. "That sort of thing."

Michael swallowed hard, staring at the checkered tile. Was it possible... that all this time... his brother had been trapped? Alone? Abandoned again? Had he merely sent him from one prison to another?

"What did you need from us?" Susie asked gently, breaking the hum of thoughts in his head.

The boy blinked, looking up at her pale, ghostly face, and the fog seemed to clear from his mind as he remembered what he came here for. "I... I need to know how to free spirits from hauntings," he answered quietly.

At that, her companions straightened, a curious glint in their white eyes.

"Trying to kick your dad out for good?" Fritz questioned with a raised brow.

Michael scoffed. "Him and a bunch of other people who don't belong here," he spoke, and they seemed to understand his insinuation as they cast looks at one another.

"You'll need fire," Gabriel spoke simply. "Their hosts have to be completely destroyed by fire."

"It'll send away anybody, regardless of how or why they're still here. But if they want to stay, they'll try to escape it," Jeremy added, pushing his shimmering glasses back up to the bridge of his freckled nose. "So, be careful."

The gears in Michael's head began to turn, already formulating a plan. But he still didn't feel completely sure with their answers. "How do you know?" He asked. "How do you know it's fire that I need?"

Susie had a somewhat uncomfortable smile on her face. "Every ghost is afraid of it. We know fire destroys our anchors just like you know water drowns," she spoke. "And they will too. Like Jeremy said... be careful."

Michael nodded as the children began to look up and around as if in response to something he couldn't see or hear.

"We've been here a while," Jeremy murmured. Gabriel nodded, eyes turning back to Michael.

"Yeah. We have to go, now."

The boy nodded with a tight frown. "Thanks for your help..." he started, before continuing in a quieter voice. "And I'm sorry for everything. I really am."

But Gabriel offered him a faint smile and a light shrug as he and his companions began to fade out of view. "Can't hold a grudge forever." He spoke. "We've got better things to do than mourn for eternity."

"Yeah," Fritz agreed. "Except for that cupcake I never got to finish."

"Fritz!" Susie chided.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" He stammered, raising his hands defensively. "See you around, kid... or maybe not."

Soon, they were all but gone apart from Susie, who was growing more transparent by the second.

"What's your name?" She asked, pearly eyes meeting his.

"Michael." He answered.

She gave a small smile that made dimples in her cheeks. "It was nice to meet you, Michael."

And with that, she was gone, and the boy was left standing in the Parts & Service room on his own. He blinked; without the ghost children, the place seemed much darker and more cramped than before- but he had what he needed.

He pushed determinedly off the table and hurried through the vacant dining room, now full of breaking morning light, the sky pink and faintly dotted with stars that were winking down at him as he rushed to his car and threw open the driver's door. In much shorter time than it should have taken, Michael was hurling through his neighborhood and up the sloped driveway as nearby residents were emerging with lawn-mowers and sun-hats to begin their morning routines.

He ran up the stone steps, sneakers thudding on wood as he came to the front door and pushed it open to find Henry sleeping on the table where he'd left him and Laura busying herself over a pot of coffee in the kitchen. At his entrance, she looked over, bags under her eyes but still alert as they widened. "Mike!" she said with surprise as he beckoned for her and hurried over to Henry and gently shook his shoulder.

"Henry," he whispered as the man's eyes blearily cracked open. "Henry, wake up-"

"Mmm? Michael..?" He said sleepily, sitting up some as Laura came to stand behind him, looking expectantly at her friend.

"I figured it out. I know how to free the souls," the boy said urgently, and suddenly Henry appeared much more alert, his icy eyes staring straight into his as he straightened. "How?" He implored in a hushed whisper, waiting desperately for the boy's answer.

"With fire."