As soon as Charlie heard Michael's desperate voice, she spun around and charged back into Ballora Gallery. She dropped her flashlight in the process, but Michael's lay upon the floor of the room, just barely lighting up the scene before her. She froze, her stomach dropping. Ballora had a hold on Michael, her mechanical hands tightly gripping his ankle and shirt as she attempted to drag him back. He reached out towards Charlie, his blue eyes wild and pleading.
"No!" Charlie dove forward and grabbed his hand. She then seized one of his arms and pulled, grasping them as tightly as she could. Michael struggled towards her, panting and shaking. Ballora's strength didn't give. She yanked back, nearly stealing him from Charlie's desperate grip. A slight cracking sound came from an area hidden in darkness; Michael let out a long groan of pain, his hand tightening around Charlie's. She gulped down a lump in her throat, whispering, "It...it's okay, Mike. I'm gonna save you. Just hold on." Straining what felt like every muscle in her body, she pulled back on Michael as her eyes clamped shut in concentration.
It barely did a thing; the animatronic's strength was unmatched. Giving a growl of anger, Charlie repositioned herself and began kicking at one of Ballora's hands. "Let him go!" The animatronic barely reacted, giving a good pull. Michael cried out in pain. Charlie gulped hard, silently trying to remain calm as she strained against Ballora's strength. "I got you, Mike. I got you. I won't let her take you, I'll—" She broke off as Ballora gave a sudden and powerful pull. Immediately, Michael escaped Charlie's grip. A sharp gasp escaped her. "No!" Her hand shot forward, attempting to grab him again. It was too late. Ballora pulled Michael close, turned him over, and seized his neck. Charlie covered her mouth, tears filling her eyes. Frozen to the spot, she could do nothing but watch as Ballora's hands tightened around Michael's neck, making him gag and choke.
He squirmed against the floor, clawing at Ballora's arms. In the midst of the being strangled, he forced out a single, breathy plea. "N-no...please." Ballora's hands stilled. As her head tilted, a single eye peeked open, revealing a glowing purple iris. It flickered, and her grip on him loosened.
"Not...yet," she whispered. With a distorted noise, she released him and contorted her body. Horrifying as ever, she crawled away, moving like a spider with four legs.
"Why do you hide inside your walls," she sang.
"When there is music in my halls?
All I see is an empty room
No more joy, an empty tomb.
It's so good to sing all day
To dance, to spin, to fly away..."
Charlie scrambled over to Michael, quivering all over and trying to speak through the paralyzing terror that still had a hold on her. "Michael?" She touched his shoulder as he sat up, coughing and touching his neck, which was noticeably red and irritated. "Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"
"Um," he began, his voice rough, "I'm fine, I think. Let's get out of here. Quickly!" Charlie nodded, getting to her feet. Michael did the same. With a small cry, he pitched forward.
"Whoa!" She just barely kept him from hitting the floor, taking his arm and steadying him. "Are you alright?"
"Gah, um..." He clung to her, his teeth gritted against the pain. He spoke through his teeth, saying, "My ankle hurts a lot, but we can't stop. Ballora might've decided to spare me—" he paused, his eyebrows drawing together— "for some reason..." He shook it off. "But that doesn't mean she will forever. Let's go." He moved away from Charlie and limped into the next room. She followed, keeping back any concerned words. Michael was right. They could deal with the injury after they completed the task at hand.
She clammed up as soon as she saw the room, her eyes flicking around the blackness. It was positively dark, like the area they had just passed through. Pipes covered the walls and massive wires dangled from the ceiling, their sparks occasionally lighting up the area and framing something that lurked in the shadows before them. Funtime Freddy.
"You may now interface with the breaker control box," Hand-Unit said. "Using the interface may disrupt nearby electronics. If you feel you are in danger, feel free to disconnect the interface temporarily, until it is safe to reconnect."
Michael's eyes trailed to the control box. "I can do this." He opened it. "Keep an eye on Freddy."
"Right." Charlie let out a long breath and focused on the flashing room around them. Her eyes briefly flitted to a button near the box. A piece of tape was attached to it, reading "Bon-Bon voice line".
She tilted her head, but her interest ended when Funtime Freddy's voice echoed through her ears, too close for comfort. "I see you over there in the dark! Co-come on out!"
"Michael, he's close." She urgently tugged on his sleeve. "Stop it." Michael obediently shut the control box and backed up, his eyes going wide. Funtime Freddy lurked near, Charlie spotting only brief flashes of the animatronic, the light gleaming off his metal shell. He got closer, practically upon them. She clenched her fists, shaking her head. The animatronic wasn't backing away. This could be it, their end.
"No," she said aloud. "It's not!" Doing the first thing she thought of, she slammed her hand against the red button.
"Calm down and go back to sleep!" A small, childish voice broke through the air. "No one is here." Funtime Freddy vanished through the darkness, and became visible farther away.
Michael gave a bewildered laugh. "Charlie, you're a genius!" He flung the control box back open and set back to work. "Keep doing that, I think it'll keep him back long enough to finish this."
She nodded and hit the button. Nothing happened. Frowning, she said, "I don't think it happens when you're working." He made a rather afraid and grouchy noise, only briefly acknowledging her words. She exhaled to calm herself, keeping an eye on Freddy. "I'll tell you when to close it."
"Bon-Bon, say hi to our friends!" Funtime Freddy grew close, right before her.
Her heart leapt to her throat. "Which is now! Stop now!" Michael slammed it shut and Charlie immediately hit the button.
"You must be hearing things, silly." Bon-Bon giggled. Freddy retreated. His hands trembling, Michael went back to work. Charlie kept her hand poised over the button, her gaze flicking between Freddy and Michael's work. Through the flickering lights the animatronic came, farther then nearer, farther then nearer.
"I know you're over there somewhere!" his glitchy voice called through the dark. She fisted her other hand, forcing her breaths to remain even and steady. She couldn't panic, not in the middle of this. But when was Freddy too close? He neared her...but was it close enough to kill her?
Deciding not to risk it, she called out, "Stop!" Michael did; she activated the voice.
"Shh, go back to your stage," it said, "everything is okay."
"Ha, ha. I know you're over there somewhere." Freddy grew farther, but already he was creeping closer again. Michael and Charlie repeated the same actions three times—work, stop, activate voice, repeat. Charlie didn't take any chances, making him stop his work whenever Freddy grew even a little near.
"Be careful doing that," Michael whispered, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Every time I stop, my progress goes back a little."
"Sorry." She didn't look away from the fazing animatronic. "I'm just afraid."
He nodded, gulping hard. "I know. I am too."
"But we can do this," she added. "I hope..." She shook her head, fearfully watching Funtime Freddy. The time dragged on; never once did Charlie's quickened heartrate nor her fear lessen, but she kept her head and didn't let it get the better of her. Each panicked press of the button became faster, and Funtime Freddy remained in the dark, searching fruitlessly for the duo.
"Almost done," Michael whispered.
She didn't even nod, focused on the darkness. The brief view of Freddy flashed off to the left. "Stop," she said.
As usual, Michael did, and she activated the voice line. "Everything is okay, let's go back to sleep."
Funtime Freddy vanished. Michael set back to work, saying, "Alright, don't make me stop unless it's absolutely necessary. I'm almost finished."
"Right," she whispered, her eyes searching the shadows. Light flashed, and she spotted Freddy a short distance away. The next time electricity sparked, she did not see him. Frowning, she glanced around. No Freddy. She opened her mouth, nearly telling Michael to let down the control box, but quickly decided against it. Not being able to see Freddy was a good sign...right? She was not convinced by this, swallowing repeatedly as her eyes flicked around desperately. She couldn't even hear the animatronic's loud, obnoxious voice anymore. "Um...Mike?" she said.
"Done!" He slammed the box shut.
"Great job." Came Hand-Unit. "This completes your tasks for the night. Please proceed back through the Ballora Gallery with care, and we'll see you back here tomorrow."
"We can finally get out of here!" Michael turned to her. "And once we do, we—" Panic flashed across his face and he cut himself off, shouting, "Charlie, look out!" She didn't get to react, for a metal hand clamped over her mouth.
A muffled scream escaped her throat as Freddy's booming voice rang through her ears. "Hey, Bon-Bon! I think I found the birthday girl! Let's give her a big surprise!"
"No way!" Michael came from the side, hitting the animatronic upside the head with the Hand-Unit keypad. The force did barely a thing, but it confused Freddy enough to release Charlie. She staggered forward, barely able to catch her breath before Michael was grabbing her hand and yanking her out of the room. Immediately, he collapsed into a crawling position, his body heaving with hasty breaths.
"You okay?" he whispered.
She nodded and lowered herself beside him. Her heart pounded unreasonably fast as her stomach flipped and tied itself into knots. She couldn't get out a word, merely focusing ahead. The two began to crawl. Charlie couldn't believe they had to this again. At this point, her moves were automatic. She inched her way forward, her thoughts blurred with fear. After all the terror, everything she did was instinctual. Just get through the room. That was the only thing on her mind, and the drive to survive sent her forward, hand over hand, foot over foot.
"Is someone there?" Ballora's voice echoed through the room. Both Charlie and Michael froze. They waited a moment, but when no signs of Ballora came, they went on their way. This didn't last long, as the animatronic spoke again, "I can hear someone creeping through my room." The duo didn't stop crawling. Charlie kept her gaze set ahead, all thoughts focused on survival. As they neared the vent, the voice of Ballora vibrated through the darkness a final time. "Perhaps not..."
Charlie let out a long breath, her heartrate only calming a smidge. She picked up her crawling pace, but Michael remained at a labored one. She slowed to let him catch up, then crawled through the vent and into the main control module. As soon as she stood, she exhaled and lowered her head, a few strands of hair covering her face.
"I...I don't know what to think right now," she said, hearing Michael enter behind her. She glanced down and winced in concern. "Are you okay?"
Michael glanced up at her, trembling and panting. "We have to get out of here. Now." He struggled to his feet, grunting in pain. "Come on." He took her hand and pulled her towards the exit vent. She went along with him, her head swimming with fear, worry, and thoughts of what just happened. She had no idea what to think. This certainly wasn't what she had expected, and the near-death experiences weighed on her crowded mind. She went back to instantaneous movements as they crawled their way through the vent and reached the elevator. As soon as the doors grinded shut, Michael fell to his knees and leaned over himself, his breaths even heavier than before.
Snapping out of it, Charlie dropped beside him. "Mike?" She put a hand on his quivering back. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Everything," he said between breaths. "D-didn't you see what just happened? We almost died, Charlotte!" He lifted his head, meeting her anxious eyes with serious and angry ones. "I wouldn't be surprised if my father knew this was dangerous. This is probably some sick joke of his, a way to get me to work and...and to mess with me. I doubt this has anything to do with Elizabeth." He lowered his gaze again, letting out a withering sigh. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this."
Charlie pressed her lips together, glancing down and back up. Trying to fight back her own impending fright, she said, "I'm sure your father didn't know this would happen, and there's got to be an explanation. We can talk to my dad about it, he might know something."
"No." Michael shook his head. "I'll talk to my father. This can't be a coincidence."
"Mike, what are you saying?" She blinked. "William wouldn't want to hurt you like this. He's weird, sure, but not a killer. And you're his son!"
He laughed bitterly. "Never stopped him in the past."
She winced, letting out a shaky breath. "Alright, be honest with me."
"Hmm?" he said, meeting he gaze with tired eyes. She frowned harder at the dark shadows beneath them, probably much like her own.
She cleared her throat. "How did your father treat you? And why exactly do you hate each other so much?"
"Oh, that's a long story." He rolled his eyes. "Let's save it for some other time. Like I told you last time, it's complicated and I don't like to talk about it."
"How about the car ride back home?"
"Charlie, I'm not dropping you off anymore. You have your car again; you even drove it here."
"No, I know. But obviously you can't drive."
"What?"
"Your ankle," she said. "Let me see it."
Michael hesitated, narrowing his eyes. With a sigh, he shifted his position, moving his ankle towards her. As soon as she saw it, she was filled with overwhelming sympathy for her best friend. The ankle had swollen considerably, red with irritation and bruised badly. She noticed a few small cuts, probably left by Ballora's sharp nails.
"Oh, Mike, that looks bad." She reached towards it as the elevator jolted to a stop. "Here, this'll help." She gently removed his shoe, making him give a sharp gasp of pain. "Sorry," she murmured, moving on to his sock. "I think there's something in here that'll help with the swelling and pain." She stood and exited the elevator. Michael crawled out after her. Moving swiftly, Charlie retrieved a nearby rag, probably used to clean off mechanical parts, and then went over to a cooler that held beverages for employees. She wrapped up some ice in the rag, then brought it over to Michael and knelt down. "Here." She gently pressed it to his ankle. "That should help. I'm taking you to the hospital."
"But—" he began.
"No buts, it might be broken." She grabbed his hand and gently moved it to the make-shift ice pack. "Keep that there." She kept her hand rested on his, moving the ice pack to another area of his ankle. "I'll help you to the car."
He swallowed, his eyes fixed on their hands. "Ah...thank you." His gaze lifted to her, and he smiled faintly. "You know, this is quite terrible, but I'm impressed."
"Impressed?" she said.
"Well, we were almost just killed, but you seem pretty calm and focused." His smile grew. "I admire that. You're braver than I thought, Cheerios." Truth be told, Charlie felt terrified, but she supposed she was keeping her head fairly well. Both of them were, really.
"Right back at you, Eggs." She smiled back halfheartedly. "Now come on, let's get you out of here." She draped his arm around her shoulders, then helped him up. With Michael leaning against Charlie, they both made it out of the building and to the car. She managed to keep him upright, minus one time when he escaped her grasp and fell. She felt badly and thought he might be angry, but he gave one of his usual grouchy responses to it, and one that rather amused her. After climbing into the car, Charlie started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm sure one of us can come back and get your car later."
"Yeah..." Michael let out a long breath. "I'm still so confused...and scared, I guess. Why do you think that all happened?"
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "I have no idea."
"I need to speak to my father." A glare marred Michael's features. "If the only reason he wanted me to work here was some trick or...I don't even know, something like that, then we should both quit." His sour expression faded. "But I won't jump to conclusions. I hate him, but he's my father. I'll give him a chance to explain himself. I owe him that much, anyway."
"And what if it was all a big misunderstanding?" she asked. "Will you continue to work here?"
"The pay is alright," he said, "and if I can still discover what happened to Elizabeth, then I'll definitely continue. But—" he ran a hand down his face— "I don't think you should. Again, I'm sorry I dragged you into this. This is between me and my father. If it's always this dangerous, then you shouldn't—"
"No," Charlie cut in, turning a sharp right. "If you stay, then I will, too."
"Charlie, all you'd be doing is endangering yourself." He shot her a look. "I can't lose you, okay? I think you should just—"
"No." She pulled over and slammed on the breaks. "Mike, don't try to protect me. If I want to do this, then I will. Don't act like my father did. I know what I'm doing."
Michael's angry expression vanished. "I'm sorry."
She calmed as well, releasing the steering wheel and slumping against the back of her chair. "No...no, it's alright. I know you meant well. Truth be told, I don't want you doing this either. I'm just stressed and afraid and—" she cleared her throat— "anyway, if you decide you're going to continue this job, then I want to be with you. You're my best friend, Michael. I care about you and your safety; I want to be here with you. Besides..." She lowered her head. "I know what it's like to lose a sibling, and...and have no idea what happened, or why they even died. It's horrible."
"Yes." He rested his hands on hers. "It is."
"If I can help you get that satisfaction," she said, her voice quiet, "just...help you get closure over poor Elizabeth, then I will." She lifted her head and smiled faintly at him. "For your sake, and our siblings."
He smiled back, his blue eyes softening. "That means a lot, Charlie. I just...don't want you getting hurt."
"Well, you don't know for sure if you're going back or not," she said. "But if you do, I'll be right beside you. Just, um...let your ankle heal first, of course."
"Ah." His gentle expression wavered. "Right. Also, um..." He sighed. "I'm sorry about Sammy. I remember when he died, but at the time, I, uh...I don't know what was up with me, I barely comforted you and then I almost forgot about it. I really am sorry."
Charlie took the hand he'd laid on hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. "It's alright. Guess we've all done some pretty stupid things in the past."
"Nah, not you." He teasingly booped her nose. "You were the best."
She giggled. "Oh, shut up." She paused, glancing down at their folded hands. Quickly jerking hers away, she went back to the steering wheel. She pulled back onto the road, silently hoping Michael didn't notice the slight blush in her cheeks. "Anyways, we better get to the hospital. We need to get back to your place before The Immortal and the Restless starts, after all."
"Oh, right." He chuckled. He sobered a little. "Hey, um...and about my father...I'll tell you more about that situation later, okay?"
She paused, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. "Sure, Mike. Um...just please tell me he didn't abuse you much, if at all."
"Eh, not much." He looked out the window. "But he's difficult, and he stresses me out, for...several reasons, I suppose. I'm already stressed enough right now, let's save it for later."
"Alright." She forced a smile and nodded. They kept the conversation lighthearted for the rest of the drive; it was pleasant after such a horrifying night, one that Charlie still couldn't quite wrap her head around. They visited the hospital, where they found out Michael had indeed broken his ankle. It wasn't a terrible break, but it would take a few weeks to heal, and he was advised to take it easy. This made Michael grumble, but Charlie managed to cheer him up back at his place, where they watched The Immortal and the Restless together.
"Goodnight, Mike!" she called as she exited the house. "Um...call me whenever you talk to your father." She peeked through the half-shut front door. "Alright?"
He nodded at her. "Alright. Goodnight." She ducked out, leaving Michael alone in his living room. Frowning, he gazed at the staticky television set. "Well," he said, "tomorrow I'm going to approach father, and—" he groaned in annoyance— "start a conversation with him." He glared. "Something tells me we have a lot to talk about."