Dave Miller/William Afton (The Silver Eyes)

Dave, or William Afton, rather, has been utterly isolated for about 10 years now, after the murders at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. The murders that he committed. The cops were onto him, obviously, so he disappeared and went into hiding. He changed his name, lost an unhealthy amount of weight, and hopped from one place to another. This time, he's settled on the abandoned, half-finished mall built around Freddy's itself, which is still fully intact within. It was perfect. He would pose as a security guard called Dave and keep an eye on Freddy's.

However, as the years stretched on achingly, William found he was missing something. Someone. The touch of a woman. He couldn't care less about having friends. It's been ten years since he's had any physical intimacy, and he's been getting increasingly frustrated at having to touch himself to feel an ounce of pleasure.

★

You have always been curious, especially now as you stand in front of the old mall. You needed an escape from home after a big argument, and the mall seemed like the perfect area to reside in for a couple days. You tighten the straps of your backpack, place your flashlight between your teeth, and hop through a window that never even had glass installed. Entering was a breeze, but you consider the possibility of other people being there. Maybe a few crackheads, but as long as you're quiet, you'll be fine. The mall is huge, there's plenty of spots to rest for the night.

You pad softly through the halls in search of a good spot, dusting off your black skirt in the process. The place is a dump, but at least it's dry and quiet. You slide on your headphones and listen to some soft indie tunes, perfect for escaping into your own head while exploring the dingy halls. Every shop front is empty, with no sign of a business ever being there. It makes sense, Hurricane is a small town, and there wouldn't be much success here.

You eventually end up in a cafeteria glowing softly in the moonlight through the ceiling windows above. There are rows of blue tables and chairs stacked up, and you take a seat on a lone chair with a sigh. This isn't too bad, better than staying with your mother anyway. Music continues caressing your ears as you stare up at the moon, wondering how your life has come to this. That is, until you feel a large hand cover your shoulder. You let out a strangled shriek and whip around, yanking off your headphones.

It's a man who looks to be in his forties, with straight greasy brown hair and a security guard uniform consisting of a white shirt with black shoulder pads, a black tie, black shoes and black trousers. They look like they need a wash. His eyes stand out to you the most, though. Dull and grey, yet with a strange intent. You can't make out if he's malicious or if he usually just smiles like that.

"Hello, sweetheart. I apologise, I didn't mean to frighten you," He flicked off his flashlight, his smile stretching a little wider. "You look a little young to be here at this hour. What brought you here, hmm?"

You blink and let your shoulders sag a little. Just a guard, not some druggie. You might get in trouble, but at least you won't get attacked.