(For reference, this takes place in FNaF 2's pizzeria! :) )

          Michael squinted his eyes slightly as he walked around the dark prize corner, shining his light on his surroundings. The animatronics were shipped out for maintenence work, making Michael's job much more easier than it had been previously. All he had to do was hourly building checks to make sure no one had broken in. As he drifted the light across the room, he froze. The beam landed on a figure that stood before him, back facing him. Her dark brown locks reached her mid back, black hoodie with white striped being on the sleeves. Matching pants hugged her lower half, snow white hands behind at her sides. Michael blinked, taking a step forward. "Hey, what the hell are you doin' here?" He asked, furrowing his brows. "The pizzeria closed two hours ago." A gentle breath left the female, turning her head to the side.
          "You look just like him," her calm voice echoed. "It took me a while to realize you weren't him." Michael tensed, eyes widening slightly. "The hell are you talking about?" He asked, unsure if his nervousness was obvious or not. "William," she simply responded. "I know you're Michael Afton. Jeremy Fritzgerald is nothing but a fake name." Michael felt his blood turn to ice, hair standing on the back of his neck. "Who are you?" He said sternly. "How do you know my name? How do you know my father's name?"
          "I wouldn't have expected you to recognize my voice," she hummed as he finally turned around, shaky gasp leaving Michael's lips as his eyes widened. "Ch....Ch‐Charlie?" He said in a barely audible whisper. Charlie's lips curled into a gentle smile, pitch black eyes staring into Michael's. "Ding ding ding," she said with a grin, the purple streaks down her face making it seem like she was crying as well. Michael could feel his eyes sting with tears. "Youre...h–how?" He asked, unsure if he was actually seeing his childhood best friend after many years. "A shame, really," she said as she turned her head to look at the box that the puppet lives in. Her hand rested on it, gently dragging across it's lid. "This was my burial. My coffin," she spoke softly, smile turning into a soft frown. "Now I stay bound to it. I became the puppet." Michael bit the inside of his cheek, tears threatening to leave. "I don't have anger towards you, if that's what you're thinking," she said as she looked back at Michael. "You're nothing like him."
          "I'm not," he croaked, inhaling deeply. She smiled gently again. "I knew I had reason to protect you," she hummed, Michael furrowing his brows in confusion. "Protect me...?" He asked. Charlie nodded. "While the others aren't completely convinced you aren't him...I've managed to keep them relatively calm the past few nights...you're our only hope to be free from this damned place," she said as she looked around. A sad chuckle left her lips. "Who knew you could hate the wonderland your father gave you so much," she said in a sad tone, huff leaving Michael's lips. "You're tellin' me..," he said softly. "The only good I find here is the old pictures and memories." Charlie looked at him. "You can fix this," she said, taking Michael aback a bit. "Well...not bring us back. But you can make sure this never happens again. That William never hurts anyone ever again." Michael's grip tightened on his flashlight. He nodded. "I'm going to fix this," he spoke. "I promise." Charlie smiled once again.
          "Michael?" A timid voice called from beside Michael, causing him to snap his head over. He shone his light in said direction. He froze, the only thing moving was his heaving chest and the tears that began to spill from his eyes. Evan stood there, curious look being on his white face as he hugged his plush tightly to his chest. He then grinned, running over. "Mikey!" He shouted excitedly, reaching out to hug his legs. Alas, his hand went through. He frowned, a dad "Awwww," leaving him. Michael began to shake, staring down at his dead baby brother's ghost. "E–Evan–"
          "Ayo Jeremy," a voice called, causing Michael to quickly turn and shine his light. There stood his coworker, whom also has a light. He shone it around, confused look being on his face. "Who're you taking to?– And are you crying?" He asked Michael, whom quickly looked back down. Evan was gone. He then turned to the box. Charlie, too. Michael let out a soft sniffle as he raise a hand, using his sleeve to soak up his tears. "No," he croaked. "I thought I saw someone out here. Mind just playing tricks on me," he quickly said, his coworker narrowing his eyes. "...Aight. C'mon, I made hotpockets in the office," he said as he turned on his heel, walking back to where he came. Michael looked around, tearing up once more. "I'll fix it," he breathed before hurrying after his coworker.