charley-and-the-swap-machine

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

Send me a △ and ask a really invasive question aimed at my character

They’ll have to:

Rate on a scale of 1-10 how much they don’t want to answer that question.

Answer that question.

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK’D (Chapter 5, Part 3)

fools of April, but this is no joke.

The Voice Of Joey Drew

Listen, Tommy, I know you boys over at Gent are doing your best...but I'm paying for living attractions, not weird abominations!

Whatever that screaming thing was I saw destroying your office, you better keep it locked up tight!

I realize it was a first attempt at Barley, but imagine if the press caught sight of it! Might scare off investors!

And in response to your previous memo:

If you claim that your failures are because these things are soulless...then, damn it, we'll get them a soul!

After all, I own thousands of them!

────────────

"BETRAYED! ABANDONED!"

Wielding an axe, Sammy violently burst through the boards blocking the entrance. "I TRUSTED YOU! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! AND ALL I RECEIVED WAS NOTHING! NOTHING!!"

Henry slowly backed away from the raving prophet. "Y-You...you're supposed to be...?"

"HE SAID HE'D SAVE ME. HE SAID HE'D SET ME FREE. AND WHAT DID HE DO? LEAVE ME TO ROT!" He whipped around to stare at Henry, yellow eyes glinting with rage.

"I offered you to him, little sheep. Why did he not accept my humble sacrifice?" His voice had lowered to a somewhat calmer tone as he questioned him, turning away and pacing around. "Have I done something wrong...?"

He slumped down, then immediately perked back up with a snap of his fingers. "...Of course! I must have done the ritual incorrectly...!"

Laughing, the prophet turned back around with a slasher smile adorning his face.

"THE TIME OF SACRIFICE IS UPON US, CREATOR! NOW, COME PUT YOUR FACE IN MY AXE!"

Upon him saying that, Henry jumped back as Sammy lunched towards him, weapon swinging.

-

-

-

It quickly turned into a wild goose chase around the makeshift city as he frantically avoided the attacks of the raving prophet that followed close behind.

"W-WAIT!" Henry turned around to look as he made an attempt to reason with him.

"I-I TRULY DON'T UNDERSTAND! I REALLY DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU-"

He was cut off as he flinched at Sammy swinging straight for the middle of his head, and he made an attempt to dodge to the side.

The axe soon nicked the side of his face, and Henry felt his cheek sting as a warm fluid trickled down his chin.

Blood.

...

It'd been a while since he'd seen his own blood, hasn't it?

..No, no, he couldn't get distracted now. Reaching for the looking glass, he held it in his hands like a dagger as the prophet readied to attack him once more.

"Ahhhh...so now it's a fight, isn't it?" Sammy commented, his cheshire cat grin widening as he gripped harder on his axe.

"...I...I really don't...want to do this, you know." He breathed, still gripping onto that shard of glass.

But it looks like it's come to this, hasn't it?

...

"LIES! OHH, IT'S NOTHING BUT LIES THAT COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH, CREATOR!" The prophet began to laugh again as he prepared to attack Henry once more.

"I'LL CUT THAT LYING MOUTH RIGHT OFF OF YOUR FACE AND END THEM ALL FOR GOOD!"

As soon as he lunged for Henry again, he instinctively jammed the makeshift dagger into whatever he found to be closest to it.

.

..

...

Which just so happened to be the prophet's left eye.

"SH-SHIT! I-I'm sorry, I-" Henry immediately blurted out an apology as Sammy screamed out in agony, turning away from him and kneeling on the floor as he held onto his injured eye.

What appeared to be the prophet making quiet sobs soon turned into a manic cackle as he snapped back around to grab for Henry's neck, forcing him down to the ground.

"HA! HE LIED TO ME, CREATOR, JUST LIKE YOU'VE LIED TO US FOR ALL OF OUR PAINFUL EXISTENCES. HE SAID HE WOULD SET US ALL FREE." Sammy loomed in his face as he spoke, then rose up above him.

"WELL...I'LL GO AND FREE YOU, NOW. FREE YOUR HEAD RIGHT OFF OF YOUR SHOULDERS!"

He was holding his axe in both of his hands now, his smile at his fullest.

"Sheep, sheep, sheep..."

...

The axe was lifted further and further above his head.

"It's time..."

...

Henry couldn't tell from where he was, but he swore that something, or someone, was approaching from behind Sammy.

"For..."

...

The figure was slowly getting closer and closer now as the prophet prepared to administer the final blow.

"Sleep."

Before he could get a single strike in, Sammy seemed to almost freeze in his place. Arms going limp, he dropped his weapon as he fell down to the side with a soft thump, his pupils rolling back and his eyelids fluttering shut.

It was silent after that.

...

"...Time for sleep."

From the ground, Henry watched as a familiar face took an axe out of Sammy's back, looking down at the corpse with an uneasy expression.

"...Barley?"

The sailor seemed to notice Henry as he said that, and he walked over to him, axe in hand.

A moment of silence passed as the two stared at one another, still processing the events of what had just happened. The stillness from the both of them was soon broken by Barley extending a hand to him without a word.

He obliged to the offer, taking a hold of it and pulling himself up from the ground.

Not a single word was exchanged, but in that moment, there seemed to be a mutual agreement between the two as the sailor gave a small smile to him.

...

"Henry!"

He turned at Alice's voice to find the others waiting for him on the docks of the town. "There you are! We've been looking for you..." She called.

"Yeah!" Bendy added, poking out from behind her. "Where the hell have you been, anyways? Didya give us the slip or somethin'!?"

"He didn't give anyone 'the slip', Bendy." Boris said, "I let him out."

"WHAT!? That's a shocker!"

"Bendy..."

As the group began talking amongst themselves, Henry couldn't help but gaze back down at the body of the prophet.

"...He's really gone, isn't he?"

He nearly jumped at Barley's sudden words, then calmed himself down as he continued to stare at the corpse.

"I suppose he is..." He trailed off, before adding:

"Maybe it was better off this way for him."

...

He froze up as he felt a hand placed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Boris standing right behind him. How the hell did he get here so fast?

"...What exactly is it that you are looking for...Henry?" He paused before pronouncing that last word, as if his name was something from a foreign language he had never spoken before.

...

...He thought about that question for a bit.

How long had he been here? What was his goal anymore? So many things had happened, and he was unsure how to feel now...

"I..." He finally broke the silence. "I guess...I just want to get out of here."

Boris seemed to process his words, then took his hand off his shoulder and walked forward a bit, stopping to turn his head back at him.

"...Well? Are you coming, or not?"

"W-Well, um..." Henry stammered out, a bit surprised by the turn of events.

"...If you know what to do, then...lead the way."

"Hey, Boris!" He jumped at Bendy appearing out of seemingly nowhere. "Where are we goin' now?"

"Somewhere. Now get moving."

"Awh, come on! What're you bein' so secretive about?"

The group moved forward as Bendy and Boris began to bicker between themselves again. Taking a final look at Sammy, Henry turned away from him and followed everyone else out of the town…

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

Happy Today

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Chapter 5, Part 2)

ocean man

The Voice Of Joey Drew

I know how much this part means to ya, Susie.

Edgar means a lot to me too. Gosh, all of my characters do! In fact, I'll let you in on a little secret:

I, too, really believe my characters are more than just drawings. They're alive. They're part of us. And I want people to know them as well as I do.

I want people to be able to shake their hands. Spend an afternoon with 'em.

Love them.

Susie, I'll be straight with you.

I'm putting together a small project... a little ceremony if you will. If it works, a lot of dreams will come true.

And I want you to be a part of it.

...I want you to bring Edgar to life once again.

What do ya say?

--------------------

Henry sat upon his bed as he looked around the room, processing the previous events. Had he just been freed? What would he do now? He was unsure if Boris had even intended on telling the others on what happened.

Slowly and carefully, so not to make a sound, he eased himself out of the bed and quietly looked for any way to escape.

He felt around the walls for any peculiarities. Perhaps a crack in the wall, a hidden door, anything. But as he did so, his hand soon grabbed a hold of a wooden spoon hanging on the wall as a simple decoration, pulling downwards on it by mistake.

The wall next to the spoon cracked open to reveal a hidden passageway. Well, there's my way out of here. Henry thought to himself, grabbing the looking glass Alice gave him and slipping through the wall.

-

-

-

It only took a few steps before Henry found himself completely enveloped in the darkness before him. Looks like I'm stuck. If only I had some light...

As soon as he thought that, he noticed a small glint in the looking glass he held onto. He put it to his eye and took a glance around, admiring the glowing arrows that were now revealed adorning the walls. ...Neat.

He slowly walked through the corridor before him, following the path revealed to him. After a while, he found himself standing on a wooden dock upon a lake of rippling, thick ink. Before him was a small boat, which rocked slightly back and forth in its place. One foot slowly after the other, Henry stepped into the raft and pulled the lever to activate the engine.

The engine hummed to life, and Henry sat himself down and steered the boat as it drifted along the dark, murky liquid. Occasionally he would take out the looking glass and look around for anything of use, then continued his way across the lake.

About halfway across, the boat froze in place as the engine seemed to stall. Well that's just great. What's the issue...? He turned his head to stare at the engine.

Looks like it's still running. Did...something get stuck in the fan blades? Maybe the ink got it all sticky and messed up...

He stood up and walked over to investigate the blades, bending down to get a better look.

Wait. Is that....a hand...?

The boat soon tilted drastically towards one end, and Henry scrambled to the higher part as someone- no, something- attempted to drag itself onto the raft.

Whatever it was that had gripped onto the fan blades had now lifted itself up to the point where he could get a proper view of what it was.

Wh.....What on...earth...??

It was...Charley. Not the one that roamed the halls, not even a perfect replica of him. No, this was some failed attempt at recreating him entirely. Its facial features seemed to roll down the curves of its face and drip as if they were drops of melting was upon a candlestick. Its legs were nowhere to be seen, but Henry was sure that they had some level of distortion to them as well.

Everything was wrong.

All wrong.

The wrong Charley opened its mouth in a strained gasp, revealing needle-sharp, crooked teeth as it attempted to speak to him.

"...I-ts. So. C-old..."

Henry cringed as soon as it rasped those words. "No, no, no, nonono, nonononoNO STOP GET AWAY-" He stammered out, immediately feeling for a weapon to ward the distorted creature away.

Gripping onto an axe, he jammed it directly into its head as the monster made a loud, painful cry. It immediately stopped gripping onto the fan blades, sinking into the ink.

An uneasy silence followed as the boat regained its balance.

But still...Henry still felt as if he was being watched.

...Is it just me, or is the ink a bit choppier than usual...?

He squinted a bit as he stared at the waves of the lake.

They almost appeared to resemble...hands...and...faces...?

The raft soon began violently rocking in place as arms formed from the ink and began gripping onto the boat. "OH, SHIT!" Henry screamed, gripping onto his axe as he prepared to ward more of the distorted copies away.

It was certainly a...nightmarish experience, to say the least. Henry found it overwhelming trying to get rid of the gigantic amount of failed copies that tugged his boat back and forth, and the horrific screams they made as he attacked them certainly didn't do him any favors. One notable confrontation involved one of them managing to grip onto his leg, everything missing from the waist down and inky "organs" dragging on the floorboards.

"I...C-an't...feel...m-y...l-egs..." It croaked at him, staring up with its melted irises almost shrunken in horror.

"YEAH, AND NOW YOU WON'T FEEL ANYTHING AT ALL." He shot back, chopping at its neck and kicking it back into the ink. He took a moment to breathe as he looked around himself for any possible things he may have missed.

Silence.

Henry gave a sigh of relief. "Looks like that's all of them." He muttered, wiping ink off of his face and turning back around to turn the engine back on.

A low, quiet rumble pulsed through the floorboards of the boat, and he froze in place. And it looks like...I jinxed it, didn't I.

The rumbling grew louder and louder as something massive rose from the ink. Slowly, Henry turned around to confront whatever new thing he needed to ward off.

A grotesque amalgamation of all the previous copies had appeared before him, the entire lower half of its body composed of pulsing organs, gloved hands, and warped faces. The top half, however, seemed to resemble some sort of hand puppet mimicking Charley, eyes still dripping down its face and mouth still sharp with jagged, broken teeth. Long, veined arms hung at its side as it stared down at Henry.

Without thinking, Henry immediately threw his axe directly at the abomination's face and watched it screech in pain as it distorted and melted. He quickly flipped himself around to start up the engine, grumbling in frustration as it stalled. Come on, come on, not now-

Before he could manage to get it starting again, the great, dark wave of ink that was once the amalgam rose over him and engulfed him completely.

-

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-

-------------------------------

It was dark, until it was bright, and Henry found himself awake once more.

Alright, let's see where I ended up again.

Coughing up ink, Henry stumbled to his legs as he looked around the place he had washed up on. It was a small, makeshift village of some sorts, houses shabbily put together with cracked boards and inky writing covering the walls.

He felt his pocket for the looking glass and pulled it out, walking closer to the first glowing writing that caught his eye.

"...'Once people, now fallen into despair'..." He read to himself, taking the glass away from his eye.

"...'NOT MONSTERS'."

Gotta keep on going.

Henry put the glass back in his pocket and walked closer to the boarded up entrance, the walls around it covered with inky handprints on paper.

But before he could get a better look on what was on the other side, a loud shout was heard as the boards broke before him, and he was thrown back.

As he sat himself up to face whoever had broken the entrance, he felt his heart stop for a split second.

"...Sammy...?"

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

Our creator's being really normal over her other story, but have this 'voice claims' video for now!-✒️

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Chapter 5, Part 1)

my favorite part of batim to write /sarc

The Voice Of Joey Drew

A small memo to all administration offices:

Rumors have begun to fly that we simply can't tolerate any longer. The idea that the company is in some form of financial difficulty is untrue and a slanderous lie against us.

It's also been known to me that some backroom incompetents are not trusting in my leadership.

As a leader, I'm always steering the boat, guiding our destiny. Looking at the big picture. No need for you people to worry about such complicated things.

Just do whatever it is you do and trust your leader...

Which is me.

-----------------------------

"Rise 'n' shine, sleepin' beauty!"

Henry felt a gloved hand poke his face and wearily opened his eyes to find the imp from before looming towards him. Crying out, he made an attempt to back himself up on the cot he was on, but soon realized that both of his hands and feet were tied tightly together with his arms stuck behind his back. "Hey, hey! Calm down, you're gonna fall off the bed like that!"

"WHO ARE YOU? WHERE AM I? WH-WHY AM I TIED UP!?" Henry demanded, continuing to struggle against the bonds of his restraints to no avail.

"Well first off, I'm Bendy. Second of all, I guess you could say this is a...hideout of some sorts. Now quit moving so much or you'll get rope burn." He stopped thrashing around and felt himself glare a bit at the little devil. "Sorry, but that was Boris's idea. He doesn't like...your type...all that much."

Before Henry could question who Boris was, he caught an inaudible hint of a conversation in the other room.

He looked back over at Bendy, who was readying to leave. "I might as well let them know you're up before they start another fight." He said, leaving Henry alone on the cot.

After a while the door opened up once more, and the tall wolf who he could only assume was "Boris" stepped in. His helmet shadowed his eyes completely, but Henry knew that he was staring directly at him, studying him from the inside out.

"...Well....well, uhm....hello there....?" He stumbled over his words as he tried sparking conversation with the soldier that towered over him. Boris gave no response and tilted his head to the side with curiosity as he continued staring at him.

He soon found himself taken aback and exclaimed as the tall cartoon suddenly gripped him by the face and loomed towards him, forcibly turning it in a way to examine it closely.

Letting go, Boris backed away, still staring at him in silence.

After a long period of silence, the wolf opened his mouth and spoke to him, his words thick with an accent. "You aren't leaving anytime soon."

"H...Huh?"

Boris walked closer to him and stood above the tied up man as he continued. "Had I gotten my way, I would have wrung your damn neck like a bird by now." He snarled, clenching his gloved hand into a fist for a moment before relaxing. "But...Alice insisted on 'giving you a chance'. Of course, I know what you humans are capable of. "

The wolf stared at the ropes restraining Henry's limbs. "If you want these off, you'll have to prove yourself to me....good luck with that."

He sat himself up on the cot he was confined to. "Wh...Where are....Barley and....?"

"Unlike you, at least we can keep them around considering they're the same as us. Still, we have to keep a close eye on them."

The cartoon readied himself to leave the room. "Better get comfortable, because you'll be here a while."

It was then that Henry noticed the continuous throbbing pain in his head. "Agh.....well, can I at least have some...ice?"

Boris turned back around evidently confused by his words, and Henry felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. "...No water here. You'll sleep it off." The wolf replied coldly, and he shut the door behind him and left him alone.

...Well, I might as well get ready to pass the time.

-

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----------------------------------

The next day, he soon woke to the sound of the door opening once more. The young woman, who he supposed was Ms. "Alice", walked in humming with a bowl of soup.

He caught her attention as soon as he turned his head groggily to look at her, and she looked over to him. "Oh! Looks like you're awake! I brought...um...breakfast for you, if you could call it that."

Henry shook his head and sat himself up. "No thanks...it's not like I can eat it, anyways." He added, looking down at the ropes tying his hands together.

"..Alrighty." She responded, placing the food on the bedside table and sitting herself next to him on the cot.

It was silent for a bit until Henry spoke up again. "You're awful chipper for one of those cartoon villains." He said without thinking, then soon realized his wording. "Oh, I'm sorry if I was rude, I-"

Alice gave a small chuckle. "It's alright, I don't mind you thinking that." She replied, looking down to the floor. "...I guess...the studio just changes you, you know. You realize things about yourself."

She fell quiet for a moment and continued humming to herself as she smoothed out the fringes of her dress.

"That's a nice tune. What's it called?"

"Oh! It's...." She began excitedly, before trailing off. "...I forgot. I remember hearing it on a record player down here, though. It's nice, you know. You rarely catch any working ones in the studio." She tilted her head towards Henry. "...Who are you? Why are you here?"

Henry found himself surprised at the question. "Well, a lot of you know me as...'a creator'. Or at least, that's what Edgar said. My name is Henry. Henry Stein. My...old work partner...he wanted me to come down here. 'There's something I need to show you,' as he put it." He pulled his knees to his chest. "And now I got roped into this whole mess."

"You're real interesting, you know....a lot of humans who used to work here....they weren't as kind as you. They didn't last as long as you...." Alice looked away again. "...I think, the people who used this safehouse before us...they're gone now. Only ink covered bodies as remains."

She quickly changed the subject as she looked back at him. "Hey, I just remembered! I found something a while back..." She started, opening up the bedside drawer and pulling out an object. As Henry looked closer at it, it appeared to be a collection of shards of glass stuck together until they made a sort of rhombus shape, taped to a stick.

"When I was out collecting supplies one day, I saw something yellow reflecting on a piece of glass. I went to pick it up, and it was almost like a magnifying glass that revealed hidden messages! I don't know where or who it came from. Maybe it was a secret spy that got into the studio. Isn't that exciting?" Alice asked him, before placing it under the blanket of his cot. "I think you'll have more use with it than me."

Henry grinned at the cartoon. "Thanks, Alice."

"Anytime...Henry."

-

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-----------------------------------

Days went by as Henry sat alone in that room tied up, watching his captors go in and out every day. Bendy and Alice seemed fascinated with him, Alice especially. Boris, on the other hand...the wolf rarely bothered to speak to him.

In that time that Henry was confined to that bed, the only thing that truly kept him company was his mind. As the hours passed, he thought of his home, his life, his past.

He thought of his family. What were they doing without him there? Did his wife weep for him? Did his child miss him? Or was time simply moving on without him, almost as if he never existed in the first place?

Alongside the people outside of the studio, Henry also thought about the people in the studio. At least, what was left of them, anyways. He had gained new allies, lost a few, made many enemies along the way....

He'd made a promise to Barley, to help bring his friends back. And now, the sailor wouldn't even look him in the eye. Well, that was what Henry imagined, anyways. What were Barley and Edgar doing, anyways? What were they thinking of him right now?

He lay his head back down on the pillow with a sigh. Might as well sleep on it before I have a life crisis.

-

-

-

Henry's slumber was soon interrupted by the quiet creak of the door and Boris's footsteps as he walked into his room. He wasn't fazed, of course, as the wolf would come in to check if he was awake and would turn on the lamp beside him. "Mmm..g'mornin-"

He was soon cut off by Boris putting a hand over his mouth, silencing him at once.

As Henry struggled in confusion, he quickly paused in alarm once he noticed the pocket knife that the wolf was holding. He closed his eyes tightly, accepting his future fate...

...

Henry felt the pressure on his arms and legs loosen as ropes were heard snapping. Slowly, he opened his eyes and found that Boris had left entirely, the bonds containing his limbs cut and lying limb on the sheets.

...Well, now what?

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK’D (Chapter 4, Part 6)

we somehow predicted malice with a fucking gun

The Voice Of Wally Franks

So turns out it's my lucky day!

I got to cleaning some of the offices around 2 AM last night, and what do ya think I find on one of the chairs? A big freaking chocolate cake. Just sitting there! Practically yelling my name!

You know, I work hard. I earn my pay. Every darn dollar. But you know what this company's missing?

Little, benefiting perks. And this here cake? It's a perk!

Hopefully no one finds out what I done. Cause if they did, I can tell ya what would happen:

I'm outta here.

———————

Henry stretched himself out before flipping the final switches to power the haunted house, walking towards it as the doors opened up. Eerie organ music and recorded laughter rang through the worn speakers as he stepped through, sitting himself down on a cart with a cartoonish smile printed upon it.

He waited a few seconds until the ride creaked to life, the singular cart moving at a snail's pace into the entrance of the track.

Alright, Edgar, let's see what you have in store for me.

-

-

-

“Haunted” house was right, at least to a child. The cart grinded against the track as the audio from the speakers looped and skipped. Cardboard ghosts popped up from behind fake gravestones in an attempt to scare Henry, who sat there with nothing but a straight face. Either this is unfinished or this is where the budget went out for Joey.

The music cut out and he sunk back in his seat as the intercoms popped on once more, awaiting whatever Edgar would bring him.

"It's a funny thing, how so much can fall apart oh so fast.... We never had control in the studio. Either you were a puppet, or the puppeteer..." The angel gave a sigh and paused, before continuing his monologue.

"I just wanted to be good enough. I just wanted to be perfect for Joey. If you were in my place....wouldn't you understand?"

Henry thought back to the past for a second, his face turning sour almost instantly.

"Why are you here, creator? We're all dying to know why you took the dark path into this damned studio. Do you just enjoy the terror of the drop into hell? Because if so...hang on tight, I've got a treat for you."

The cart soon came to a screeching halt in the middle of the track as Henry found himself in a large theater of some sorts. Curtains lay shut on the gigantic stage as the dim room was softly illuminated by warm, yellowish lights. Empty seats were powdered with dust and cobwebs, a few stray splotches of ink occasionally staining them.

He couldn't help but feel at peace, yet so unnerved at the same time. A lingering feeling of tension filled the room as Henry stared up at that stage.

The dark drapes slid open to reveal nothing but an axe laying on the wooden floorboards, a small piece of paper laying by it. What kind of setup is this? Is he playing some shitty prank on me?

Taking a deep breath, he lifted himself out of the ride and stepped towards the stage. Once he had climbed unto it, he grabbed the note and read the contents. The letters were small and neatly swirled in cursive, reading:

"Dearest Creator,

Consider this a parting gift before your demise.

From,

Edgar"

Henry crushed the paper in his hand and jammed it in his pocket. Trying to scare me off, huh?

"Aw, Henry....I wrote that special, just for you! Why'd you go and mess it up?"

He jumped at the new voice of Edgar from nowhere, and he picked up the axe as he glanced around for the source. "Wh-Where are you? Show yourself!"

"But never mind that, I'm so glad you've gotten to this point! I was expecting that the searchers would've gotten to you first..." The angel gave a soft chuckle. "Ah...or perhaps Charley..."

"I didn't come here to strike a conversation with you. What did you do to Barley?"

"Oh! Silly me, I forgot about that for a second! Well, just wait and see, creator...."

A click was heard and Henry noticed the cords around him start spinning as a platform decorated like a cloud descended before him. There upon it sat Edgar along with Barley my his side, who upon noticing Henry glanced away from him.

"Barley! Hang on tight, buddy, I'll get you out of-"

"I'm sorry, creator, but Barley doesn't need your help anymore," Edgar cut in coldly, Barley nodding in response. "Him and I know exactly what you are. You're a liar, Henry. All of this goddamned ink hell-" The angel gestured around himself, "All this? Haha! It's- It's all because of JOEY DREW! He-He's the reason that...that I'm like this! I'm IMPERFECT, and it's ALL HIS FAULT! And I know that deep down, you're just like him! But we can pull it all away if we just get rid of you! Barley gave me that idea, at least."

Henry tightened his grip on the weapon. "Y-You...you turned him against me!? YOU FUCKING BITCH! I-"

"I made the choice myself, Henry."

He found himself stunned speechless at the sailor's ice-cold words.

"Oh, but enough chit-chat!" The angel chimed. "We just can't let you do damage any longer, now can we?"

He gave a wide fanged grin as he reached behind him, slowly pulling out a tommy gun and balancing it in his hands. Henry felt his eyes widen and his stomach dropped just looking at it. "Pathetic, isn't it? The only way you're getting to see the real deal is when you're about to be shot with it." He commented, tracing the circular end of it with a gloved finger.

Edgar slowly began to laugh to himself as he flipped the gun around in his hands so he was able to aim it properly. "So long, creator! I'll see you in hell."

A deafening bang echoed through the theatre as a crate next to Henry exploded into sharp wooden fragments.

"I suggest you get a running start, Henry!" Barley called down from the platform above him with a taunting tone as Edgar reloaded the gun, and he dashed away as another nearby object was struck by a bullet.

The arachnid gave him absolutely zero chance to get a strike in as endless bullets rained down like deadly raindrops, filling the walls and floorboards with small, dark holes. It soon came to a halt when the gun stopped firing, making empty clicks as Edgar repeatedly pulled the trigger. "Shit, out of ammo already?" He cursed, reaching behind himself to look for something.

Henry took this opportunity to race across the floorboards and jam his axe into one of the cords, snapping it in two as the platform above began to rock violently in response. Edgar regained his balance quite easily while Barley quickly gripped onto one of the remaining cords to avoid falling.

The angel smirked at Henry. "Looks like we have a clever boy here!" He remarked, throwing the empty cartridge down at him as he jammed a new set of ammo into the gun. "How about you get ready for round two?"

He readied himself to run in response as the spider clicked the tommy. "Let's tango, angel."

-

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-

———————-

"HA! Getting tired already, creator? I could do this all day!" Edgar boasted at an exhausted Henry, balancing on the platform with ease as one set of his arms held the gun while his others held onto the single remaining cord.

Barley, on the other hand, was now trembling as he desperately clung onto the rope to avoid falling. "E-Edgar-" He stammered out, "I-I think we should come up w-with a pl-plan B..."

"Plan B? PLAN B!? HA! It's ALL OR NOTHING, BABY!" Edgar cackled. "We're so close, anyways! I can feel it! Don't you get it? SOON, WE CAN ALL BE FREE! ONCE HE'S GONE!"

Edgar soon broke into uncontrollable laughter, and Henry took the opportunity to hack at the final cord, a loud snap ringing through the area.

"...Uh oh."

The duo cried out as the platform slammed down from above, a dust cloud forming from the rubble. Once it all cleared away, Henry walked over to the now face-down angel.

"Ohh....wha......" Edgar slurred out, making an attempt to lift himself up. He soon noticed the shadow of Henry growing above him, and his pie cut pupil soon shrank in fear. "H...Haha.....H...Henry....Wh-What are you....?" He croaked out, giving an awkward chuckle.

He looked down at the axe, and then the angel. "Something I wanted to do for a while now."

He readied himself to finally strike Edgar as he lifted the weapon high above his head, but soon found himself frozen in place as the angel winced and curled away from him.

...Something in Henry's chest seemed to melt as he stared down at the spider who had defensively cringed into a ball on the floor, muttering something to himself over and over.

An immense feeling of remorse went through him, and he immediately threw his weapon to the side. Edgar stopped cringing and stared up at Henry with confusion. "Y-You....huh?"

"I...I just can't do it."

"Wh-What!? B-But- But you- You're a-" Edgar stammered out, backing away from Henry as he gripped onto his "imperfect" side.

"I know, I know. You see me as a 'creator'. You see me just like....." He refrained from saying his name like it would curse him if he did so. "Like him. If I...if I hurt you, I'd just make those suspicions true. I just can't do that. And besides, Barley seems to like you lots." He added a bit of an offhand comment as he finished speaking, a small smirk growing on his face.

"I-I don't understand! You.....You can't j-jus- That isn- Tha-" The spider soon interrupted his own stuttering as he let out a pained squeak, curling up in anguish as he gripped his face harder.

Barley soon rose out of unconsciousness from the rubble, and noticed Edgar on the floor. "Edgar! Are-Are you okay? Are you...hurt?" He asked, going over to the spider trembling on the floor.

The angel soon abruptly stopped shaking and shot up from the floor, still holding a hand to his face. "....What?"

Slowly, he removed his hand from the left side of his face. Strands of ink clung to his glove as a perfect, pie-cut eye was revealed underneath. "H...Huh!? I- I'm.....per...perfect....??"

The moment was soon interrupted by an unknown figure knocking Edgar and Barley out with a metal pipe. Henry jumped back in shock and looked up at the strange newcomers.

Baffling enough, right before him stood what appeared to be a perfect version of the Devil Gang, the wolf hitting the pipe against the palm of his hand as he glared at Henry.

".....What the fuck?"

Henry barely had any time to react further as the everloving daylights were whacked out of him by the soldier, and he fell unconscious onto the ground once more.

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Chapter 4, Part 5)

colossal blunders

The Voice Of Joey Drew

I believe there's something special in all of us. With true inner strength, you can conquer even your biggest challenges.

You just have to believe in yourself and remain honest, motivated, and above all, who you really are…..

….Ok, let's stop it right there. I can only do so many takes of this trash a day.

Hey, and tell the guys in writing I want more use of the word 'dreaming' in every message. Keep railing on that, get it?

“Dreaming! Dreaming! Dreaming!” People just eat up that kind of slop.

Hmm, what? It's still on?

Well, turn it off, damn it!

----------------------------------

Henry sat himself next to the ball toss as he took a short break in the warehouse. No harm in one, after all.

Stretching his arms and his back, he let his mind wander a bit. What’s Barley doing all this time that I’m gone? He must be…what if…..?

His mind soon pictured something as cartoonish as what he used to work on, right down to the monochromatic colors. He imagined Barley in a magician’s box with his normally anxious expression—Wasn’t that a cartoon? I think I saw a poster for that—as Edgar came along with a saw and a comically evil grin as he sawed him into two, moving the pieces of the box apart to reveal two dark halves of Barley’s body leaking dark ink.

Yeah right, that’s stupid. He’s doing far worse to him…I need to hurry up.

Standing up, Henry rushed his way to the next room.

-

-

-

-------------------------------------

Henry soon stopped at the lifeless body of a Herald, standing and examining it for a moment.

With the stiff way its body was twisted and its bones shatter, it appeared to be flung across the room somehow. But...by what?

Turning around to the room before him, he soon found himself frozen in place as he stared in awe at the contraption before him.

It was a gigantic octopus ride, the center covered with windows shut tight and swirling painted patterns, scratched and faded with time. Long, crane-like arms sprouted from it, ending in 8 carts that seemed to be a cross between roller coaster carts and chariots on a carousel on each end. Henry flashed back to the blueprints from before, knowing he had seen it somewhere in that room.

He couldn't help but gaze up and marvel at the mechanical wonder lying before him. It's....it's amazing. Joey, how...how did you do this...?

As he stepped closer to get a better look at the gigantic attraction before him, he soon lurched back as the lights adorning the base and arms flickered on, the machine spinning itself to life.

A booming voice soon echoed from the embedded speakers that Henry presumed once played music, as he could hear the faintest fizzle of it in the background noise.

"The biggest park ever built, a centerfold of attractions.

Each one more grand than the one before it.

It makes my eyes come to tears at the thought.

But then...oh, Mister Drew. For all your talk of dreams, you are the true architect behind so many nightmares.

I built this park. It was to be a masterpiece! My masterpiece!" The monologue skipped and repeated over itself like a broken record as the unseen man shouted, then went on.

"And now you think you can just throw me out? Trample me to the dust and forget me? No!" Henry jumped as the arms slammed onto the ground almost like clenched fists slamming on a table in anger.

"This is my park! My glory!

You may think I've gone..."

Our hero's stomach dropped as the panels of the ride opened to reveal a gigantic grotesque face of a man, mouth agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. He didn't move his lips at all, but he stared at Henry as the speakers seemed to speak for him. "BUT I'M STILL HERE!"

The ride violently spun and slammed down nearby Henry as he grabbed an axe and dashed away.

Shit...how do I attack him? Unless I find an opening, he'll break my fucking back if I try going in head-on... He thought, running around the mechanical monster as it continued to attack him.

Of course, the once-alive man wasn't invulnerable even as a machine. Henry noticed the machine stop and set down his arms almost as if he was taking a rest. He saw this as an opportunity to take out one of his arms, and son hacked off the bolts holding the crane together, it popped off and spewed sparks from the base, and Henry backed away quickly as Bertrum readied to attack again.

-

-

-

-----------------------------------

Henry caught his breath as the final arm remained, carefully waiting for the ride to stop violently spinning so he could take him out.

It seemed, however, that the monster had caught onto his strategy, and refused to stop attacking. Thinking up a hasty plan, he gripped onto his axe and ran directly towards the arm and jumped into the cart, stumbling onto it and holding on tight. Steadying himself, Henry hacked off the bolts as he tried not to get dizzy.

As the final bolt popped off, Henry jumped out of the cart and rolled onto the ground as the speakers coughed and crackled, the machine gushing sparks and ink onto the floor in puddles.

"NO, NO! YOU CAN'T....YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME AGAIN! I CAN'T....I CAN'T-"

The man's words soon fell into violent coughing as his face made the only and last movements Henry would ever seen from him, until he froze and his eyes rolled back into his head, the steel flaps closing in on him as the machine came to a permanent halt.

It was silent for a few seconds until he heard a small pop in the machine, the cracks of the doors gushing ink for a short second.

Henry pulled the switch in the room and stared at the octopus ride on his way out of the rubble.

It's a real shame. At least....at least he's at peace now, I think. I'm sorry, stranger.

He took a deep breath and walked out of the area.

No time for pity. Just one more to go.

-

-

-

--------------------------------

Henry carefully stepped downstairs into the dark room that awaited him. It was generally empty, filled with ink and a few crates filled with....ink hearts, of all things. I thought I got a break from organs....

He glanced around the area warily. ..So no monsters? No creatures? No beasts out to get me? Huh.

Shrugging it off, he slowly reached for the lever and pulled it. As he calmy stepped back towards the exit, he heard something slowly rise out of the ink, and he felt a light on his back as he heard a screech. ...Here we go again.

He raced into the nearest Little Miracle Station, shutting the door behind him and looking through the crack as the Projectionist paused in front of him, before turning back around. Before it could make a blind step down the stairs, Henry watched as a familiar figure slumped in the doorway next to him.

The Projectionist turned towards "Charley" and gave a static noise with a note of confusion. The ink-drenched man made no response, only growling as it shuffled towards the projector head and grabbed it by the neck, ripping it clean off as the Projectionist struggled. Ink painted the walls as "Charley" threw the head aside, hissing and dragging itself out of the room.

Henry carefully opened the box he was hiding in, looking around and leaving the ink-spewing body of the monster to dissolve.

Glad that's over with. Hang on tight, Barley. I'm comin' for you.

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Chapter 4, Part 4)

five night's freddys (or or or or or or or or or or)

The Voice Of Lacie Benton

The only thing that works around here is my ulcer.

Half these people don't know a wrench from a dang steamroller. Buncha morons is what they are. Spend their day in the warehouse arguin' over who's supposed to be doin' what or playing them silly games.

Still, I'm not complainin'. I get most of my time to myself. Suits me just fine.

Only thing that bothers me is that mechanical demon in the corner. Bertrum's been working on it for a month now.

It's supposed to be for that haunted house over there, supposed to be that 'Devil Gang' guy or somethin'. He says it'll walk someday, maybe scare people.

All it does now is give me the creeps.

I swear, when my back's turned, that thing's movin'.

---------------------------------

Henry made his way through the door and took a look around the area. He found himself standing on a long, winding balcony, large pipes and chains running around the ceiling and down into the floor. He recognized a familiar chattering, and he looked down from the balcony.

Oh great, not these guys again. He thought with frustration as he looked down at the Devil Gang members crowding around a flaming dumpster. All three of them seemed preoccupied with staring at the fire that seemed so rare in the studio. The Imp reached the bone replacing its arm out to touch a flame, drawing back with a hiss upon being burnt by it.

I'm not getting past these guys without a weapon. Gotta find a distraction.

As Henry gazed down at the gang and wondered what to do, he leaned himself onto the railing, unknowingly knocking down an empty soup can below. He flinched as he saw the trio turn their attention to the noise, and he watched as they surrounded the metal can.

They stood there gathered around it, chattering amongst themselves in some unknown language that only ink monsters could understand, then hobbled away back to the flaming trash can.

Oh. So that's how it's gonna work, isn't it?

Henry collected a few empty cans nearby him, and made his way downstairs.

-

-

-

It only took a bit of throwing and sneaking by for Henry to reach the other side. He had to give some credit to the fact that most of them were half blind.

As he walked down the hallway before him, he soon came to a lever at the end. A small workbench lay to the side, a lifeless piece of metal in the shape of that demon from the Devil Gang slouched over it.

He reached for the lever, but was soon interrupted by the shuffling of something metallic. He turned around to stare at the robot behind him, before shrugging it off as the sound of the ventilation and turning back around. As he finally flipped the lever, he heard something slip off of the table and creep towards him. He sharply turned back around to see the animatronic staring directly at him from the floor, half of its face plate permanently in a scowl.

Taken aback, Henry shuffled backwards until he pressed up against the wall. The robot made a clicking noise and oozed a puddle of ink from its eye onto the floor, before dragging itself towards him.

Henry managed to avoid the outstretched unfinished hand as he raced towards the shelf nearby and threw a few empty soup cans at its head. Once the robot was successfully stunned, he grabbed it by the waist and dragged it near the exit.

Steadying himself properly, he hurled the robot over the Devil Gang, and slipped past the trio as they attacked the now-piece of scrap metal that was the animatronic.

He brushed himself off as he stood on the balcony once more. Well, that one's done. What's next, Edgar?

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Chapter 4, Part 3)

sacrifice more like sack of rice

The Voice Of Wally Franks

These guys down at the warehouse get to play games all day while I'm stuck cleaning up after 'em! They kept locking themselves out of their own back room.

So I says to 'em, "Look guys", I says:

"you're smart, right? Here's an idea! Why not rig these games up to knock open the door if ya win? It'll be fun for you guys, and it saves me the trip down here every day."

They went for it like a dog to pot roast!

I tell ya! If these guys don't start realizing who the real genius is, I'm outta here!

----------------------------------------

"Who's the new guy?"

"Where did he go?"

"A human?"

The skeletal beings all whispered amongst themselves as Henry stood there like a spooked horse, unwilling to make any movement in fear of being attacked. The majority of the Lost Ones either stood by themselves or huddled in groups on the floor, but all of them stared directly at him like he was the unusual one. He flinched and pulled away as one of them tried poking him out of curiosity, the inked being drawing back and returning to standing alone.

"You're not supposed to be the sacrifice."

Henry jumped and turned around as he looked at a Lost One that had come up to him. "A-A what now?"

"You'll have to do. We have to appease our lord." They continued, ushering Henry towards a vent with scrawled arrows in ink pointing at the entrance.

Oh great. So there's more of those freaks like Sammy.

"You're not like the rest of us. You're made of what we used to be. If we use you, we can finally be free..."

Henry simply stood there and stared at the group as they all stared right back at him, silently ushering him to go into the vent. "Well, um. Bye, I guess."

He picked up the flashlight and squeezed himself into the vent, hearing the door close behind him as he fell into a smaller room.

-

-

-

It was only slightly bigger than a closet, empty except for a knocked over stool. Henry looked up and stared at a crack in the ceiling, unsure what to do next.

He froze up as he saw something stir inside of the ceiling. Soon one long, slender, clawed hand slipped through, then another, and he watched as the infamous "Charley" crawled through and gripped onto the ceiling. The monster turned its head upside down like an owl's with a sickly snap, examining Henry with a snarl.

The ink equivalent of foam from a rabid dog dripped from its jaws onto the floor, and it lunged directly at Henry with a hiss. he immediately scrambled into the ventilation system and quickly dragged himself through it as the monster followed close behind.

After hastily navigating it, Henry fell out of the exit and slammed the grate back onto the hole. "Charley" ran directly into the grate with a loud metallic bang, and he watched as it scraped on it before making a dejected whine and leaving.

Huh. It's kind of like a dog. A really big, rabid, murderous dog.

Getting up and brushing himself off, he looked around the area he had found himself in. There was a large staircase with a sign next to it, which said in ink letters, "COME UP AND SEE ME". An entrance laid at the top, and Henry made his way towards it.

After climbing up the staircase, he stared in awe at the thousands of blueprints covering the walls and table. It all appeared to be things such as merry-go-rounds, ferris wheels, and many more.

He looked down at the table, a map was splayed on it, with small wooden blocks that seemed to represent different objects and buildings. It was divided into four corners: Dark World, Angel World, Ocean World, and Big World.

Man...Joey had a whole lot of time on his hands, huh?

Pulling the switch next to the table, Henry left into the next area.

-

-

-

Once he stepped onto the balcony, the lights immediately kicked on and illuminated the area. A large sign, framed by light bulbs, read in large letters: "WELCOME TO TOONLAND". The "LAND" was notably covered with new writing, so it read as "TOONHELL". What kind of edgelord did that?

Henry stepped down the stairs and navigated the clutter of amusement park storage as he went over to a panel with several levers.

"These seem to be connected. But...what do I do now?"

The intercoms buzzed to life again, and Henry grumbled as the angel began to speak to him once more. "Stumped, errand boy? That haunted house seems like the way to go....how about you get busy?"

The broadcast stopped with a fizzle, and Henry looked over at a few games left out. Maybe I should try to pass the time. Who knows, maybe that can get the first levers I need.

-

-

-

---------------------------------

"That was the most fun I've had in a while," Henry said to himself as he placed down the large mallet of the strength tester.

The speakers buzzed on for a quick moment for Edgar to make an off-handed comment towards him. "Having fun, creator? I'm sure Barley won't mind waiting while you play your little baby games."

He glared up at the speakers for a short moment, before pulling the switches and making his way to the next room.

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Chapter 4, Part 2)

bertie

The Voice Of Bertrum Piedmont

For forty years, I've built attractions that stagger the imagination! Colossal wonders such as the world has never seen!

I have earned my legacy with sweat.

But right in front of everyone—high level investors, Wall Street tycoons—the ever-tactless Joey Drew introduces me, the great Bertrum Piedmont, as Bertie!

Like I was his child.

You may be paying me, Mister Drew, But you don't own me! I'll build you a park bigger than anything YOU could ever possibly conceive!

But before you go taking any bows, Mister Drew, know that this grand achievement will belong to me...

And to me alone.

--------------------------------

Henry stood before the broken cart lift that connected to the other side of the chasm. Well, something's definitely missing here. Let's see...

He turned and walked, stopping at a corridor nearby and staring deep into it.

Looks like more exercise for me.

-

-

-

After a while of walking, Henry found himself standing before a large metal pipe, ascending out of the room. What the hell is this thing doing down here?

Noticing a switch in the room, he flipped it and watched as the pipe slowly rose open, revealing a vat of bubbling, gooey ink.

"Huh. Now what do I do?"

Grabbing and turning the large valve wheel that caught Henry's eye, a large, swollen searcher from the higher levels soon rose from the vat with a low groan. He thought back to the cavern from before. Hey...wait. I'm sure I saw something that needed ink...

Henry rolled up his sleeve, reached his hand out to the ink monster, and cringed as he grabbed a hold of a lump upon the searcher's swollen body. It made a low, mournful noise as Henry pulled his closed fist away from it, and the ink monster sunk back into the vat.

That was easier than I thought it'd be. He thought to himself, opening his fist and examining the sticky blob in his hand. Haha, gross. It's like a little slug. He poked it slightly with his free hand, drawing it back sharply when it began pulsing in response.

Closing his fist back up, Henry made his way back to the darkness.

-

-

-

Henry shook his hand around slightly in order to free the sticky blob from his hand, watching it drop into the labeled "Ink Maker". He turned the disc on the side to see the different things that it could supposedly "create". Should I really be surprised at this point?

The different symbols showed a heart, some sort of cloud symbol, a radio, a bone, a plunger, a pipe, and finally, a gear. Henry stopped flipping the wheel it at the final symbol, and turned the lever on the other side.

The machine churned away for a small bit until the open chest-like box coughed out a large gear. He grabbed it and held it in his hands, turning it around to examine the details.

It seemed to be a perfect replica of a gear, right down to the texture as Henry ran his fingers across it. He went to the lift and placed it on the corresponding place, watching as the lift automatically began moving to the other side, slowly but surely.

He put one foot in, then the other, and then slowly eased himself into the cart. He didn't want to break it, after all. As soon as he settled himself in, the lift came to life by itself once more, sluggishly whirring across the dark abyss below.

Boy, this thing hasn't been used in a while, huh?

About halfway across the chasm, the lift soon came to a stop, leaving Henry suspended in the air. He left his stomach lurch and his heart rate quicken, but before he could think to do anything the lift came back with a rusty screech as it made its way to the other side, halting at the platform.

He gave a few dry heaves and steadily pushed himself out of the cart, stepping onto the platform and opening the door on the other side, shutting it behind him.

It was a simple, empty hallway, paint worn and peeling off of the sides. Henry took one step forward, and lurched back as another hallucination gripped his mind.

Thousands of inky hands were bursting out of the walls, reaching for and grabbing at Henry as he desperately tried opening the now-locked door. It soon came to an abrupt stop as he stood there cowering.

He stumbled his way to the other side, gripping the door handle and swinging it open.

-

-

-

It seemed to be a lounge of some sorts, a balcony overhead. He heaved himself onto a couch nearby, but his rest was soon interrupted by a familiar fizzle of the intercoms.

"Oh, Henry..." The angel said in a mocking, sing-song tone. "Having a bit of trouble, are we? Maybe it's the brain damage from...mmm...when I dropped you in that elevator...."

"What keeps you going, I wonder? What makes you not want to die?" The spider paused for a moment before continuing. "Ohh, I remember now...you're looking for your widdle ol' friend, aren't you? Well....better hurry up, creator. Time's running out..."

The speakers went off with a pop, and Henry gritted his teeth in response. God damned angel.

"Why can't he just go and leave me alone already?"

Henry's frustration was interrupted by an unknown voice speaking from the balcony. He turned to see an inky, skeletal figure, mouth replaced by a drool-like slime dripping downwards and eyes glowing bright yellow. It had a youthful male's voice, blubbering with sadness. "He always finds me, wherever I go! He-He's going to find me! They're going to find me, a-and...! I j-I just want to go home....WHEN DO WE GO HOME!?"

The balcony creature covered his face and gave a few sobs.

"Um....he-hello? Are you...are you okay...?" Henry called out to him.

The Lost One gave an exclaim as he noticed Henry. "Oh, I'm sorry, I-"

"Y-YOU! You can- You can take my place!"

Henry was perplexed. "...Huh?"

The Lost One looked around frantically. "They...they're gonna do something awful to me...they- they want me to go in there, and...H-Hey, can you do me a f-favor? Go and....go and take my place." He begged. "I..I-I promise I'll try and...make it up to you..!"

"What do you me-"

"I HAVE TO GO!" He shouted, running off and leaving Henry alone once more.

Well, that was weird. He thought to himself, opening the door in front of him and facing a million of the same glowing eyes from before.

...What the actual fuck?

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

Asks are still open, if anyone is curious!-✒️

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Intermission 2)

enjoy it while you can because the next chapter is bullying henry again

The Voices Of Wally Franks And Thomas Connor

"Alright, let's go over this again. If the pressure goes over 45, I screw the safety bolt in tighter, right?"

"No! For the last time, you do that, you'll blow every pipe in this place! If it reaches 45, you unhook the safety switch."

"You sure? You know, this sounds harder then comparing ear wax to bee's wax!"

"Look, it's not that difficult. Just keep an eye on the gauge!"

"Look, pal. if you think I'm doing my job AND yours, I'm outta here!"

--------------------------

It wasn't all that bad in Edgar's domain, at least to Barley. Having company besides Henry was something he hadn't had in a while.

It was a nicely decorated place, far more organized than the safehouse that he didn't bother to tidy up. Edgar seemed to have collected a few nice things, having a few side tables and a couch big enough for two people to sit on it, a blanket draped over the side.

Of course, it was a bit difficult to spark a conversation or even small talk at times. Him and the angel hadn't seen each other in a number Barley could barely count. Maybe Edgar would try to bring up the weather to him, but neither of them could expand on that other than "cold". The studio was always cold, never changing.

In those moments when Edgar fell silent and kept to himself, Barley realized how timorous he really was. When they were in their "cartoon" world, Edgar would either tease him for how anxious he was or drag him out of dangerous situations that Charley always somehow got them into.

But in the time period between him disappearing and seeing him again, the angel seemed to have grown more timid, always worried about being obedient to 'Susie'. Perhaps Edgar had put on a front when Henry was doing tasks for him. The more he questioned to himself who Susie was, the more he suspected that she was just like Buddy, but more sinister in her nature.

"Barley? You seem to be thinking about something. Are you alright?"

Barley snapped out of his thought process and looked over at Edgar on the couch they sat upon. "Oh- Umm....I'm fine."

The angel gave him a small concerned look, then looked back away. "Whatever you say, then."

The two of them sat in painfully awkward silence for a while until the sailor broke it again. "So, uh....um. What's, uh. What's for....lunch?"

There was a short pause before Edgar responded. "Soup. Probably only soup, considering that's the only thing in this whole studio. I don't know why there's so much if no one else is gonna eat it..." He turned to Barley. "Oh! Wh-Why, are you hungry?"

"Um....n-no, actually. I just...I just wanted to start a bit of conversation, is all." Barley mumbled in reply.

It fell back into another uncomfortable silence until Edgar broke it with a sigh. "I'm...I'm sorry, Barley. I...I don't know why I can't talk to you. I mean, I have you, but I still feel...lonely?"

Barley did have to admit, he felt the same way. It was like deep inside of him, there was a void that needed to be filled. He remained silent however, and continued listening.

The angel turned away and continued. "Maybe it's because he's missing."

"Who? Henry? I thought we said we didn't need him...?"

"I'm not talking about Henry, I hate Henry. It....it's..." Edgar paused for a moment before he continued. "...It's about Charley."

Barley felt his heart rate quicken. "U-Uh-"

"I miss him, Barley. I miss him a lot. I just....I don't know what happened to him? He......he's....."

"Didn't...didn't you talk to him a while back?"

"It's not the same," Edgar mumbled. "He's....that thing now. You've seen him. Everywhere he goes, someone ends up gone. He's a monster. But....I can't help but want to keep him around, you know? It might hurt me, but....."

Barley felt himself freeze up as Edgar squeezed his hand. "I really love you two a whole lot, you know. It's kind of funny, you and I used to bicker all the time...I don't know if it's just me being so lonely for so long, but the feeling...the feeling's there. Who knows? Maybe I'm just greedy..."

The sailor gave a quick glance to Edgar for a second and cleared his throat awkwardly in response, thinking over all those times he sat in the safehouse, daydreaming alone.....

"I- Umm...I...I don't think you're...greedy...I, um. I like...I like you, uh...I like you two a lot.....as well."

The angel looked over to Barley and gave a smile. "Well, uh- I'm glad the feeling's...mutual."

The two sat in silence for a short while, Barley trying to look for words to say next.

"Edgar?"

"What is it?"

"When, umm..." The sailor stumbled over his words for a bit before he found the answer. "When we....get rid of Henry....maybe we can get Charley back."

"Hm? How do you think we can do that?" Edgar asked, tilting his head a bit.

"I.....I don't...know. But...I do know that I want to get him out of here too. And then it'll be just like old times."

"Just the three of us?"

Barley held Edgar closer to him. "Yeah. Just the three of us." He replied, as it fell into a calm silence.

"Hey, Barley?"

"Huh?"

"...I love you."

"...I love you too, angel."

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Chapter 4: Part 1)

((serious moment general warning for heavily implied suicide and also vomiting))

The Voice Of Susie Campbell

They told me I was perfect for the role. Absolutely perfect.

Now Joey's going around saying things behind closed doors. I can always tell.

He wants to meet again tomorrow. Says he has an "opportunity" for me.

I'll hear him out, but if that smooth talker thinks he can double cross an angel and get away with it....well, oh, he's got another thing coming.

Angels....ooh, they don't like liars.

-------------------------------

Henry groggily opened his eyes to a white-hot pain coursing through his body as he laid on the rubble of the elevator.

"G.....God....I must be made of...steel or....or something.....how didn't I break anything...?"

He rotated any idea, any forming thought around in his brain, before he noticed that he was alone.

"B...Barley...! Where...huh...!?"

The pain soon grew number as Henry pushed himself up from what used to be the lift, looking around for his missing ally. "Buddy...buddy, are y-are you hiding somewhere..??"

It took a few minutes for Henry to finally remember the situation. "....Ed-Edgar!"

That...that damned angel...! He- He took him! He.....

He stumbled to his feet, trying to use the rubble as a support. Hang on tight, buddy. I'm comin'.

-

-

-

NEW OBJECTIVE: RESCUE BARLEY

--------------------

After a long, grueling process of shuffling down the hallway before him, leaning on the walls as support, Henry soon steadily stood in a small area. To the right of him was a giant steel door. He went over to it, looking for some sort of handle.

A few seconds passed, and he noticed a hole in the door. Huh. Looks like some sort of...handle needs to go in there. He looked around the area beside the door, sighing a bit in frustration when finding nothing of use. "Not here. Maybe I should look somewhere else."

He went to the area across from his location, finding a smaller door at the end of the hall. Maybe there could be something in here? Let's see...

And so, Henry gently opened the door...

-

-

-

...What the hell happened in here?

Taken aback, he quietly walked into the room to further examine it.

The only things in the room was an ink covered desk alongside a knocked over chair, but the thing that stood out most to Henry was the copious amount of writing on the floor and walls. It had layered and stacked upon itself to the point where he could barely read it, but he could make out a few numbers, equations, and phrases such as "TIME IS MONEY" and "TAXES".

Henry went to the tape player half submerged in the bubbling ink coating the desk, and he pressed play.

-

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-

------------------------------------

The Voice Of Grant Cohen

Instead of being greeted by a stranger's monologue, Henry almost jumped back as the tape player began spewing forth static and strained cries of what sounded like an adult man, noises of scratching on wood being heard as well. After a bit of heavy breathing, the voice finally let out one loud wail as the sound of something being grabbed from a cup replaced the scraping.

He felt his stomach lurch at the following events. The sound of something piercing flesh and the spluttering of the stranger following after, mixed with the sound of something spewing onto the floor rang through the area until the sound of an object falling over—the chair—ended it off with a loud bang, and a body was heard hitting the floor as the tape faded back into static. After a minute of hissing, the tape finally shut off and sank further into the bubbling mass of ink.

-

-

-

-----------------------------

Henry held his mouth as he turned away from the desk. Oh....oh God....What...what the hell....?

He paused next to a collapsed wall for a second, before noticing a valve in the rubble. He grabbed it and quickly made him way out of the room, leaving the disappearing tape player behind.

Placing the valve back into its corresponding hole, Henry carefully turned it and pushed the steel door open.

-

-

-

It was certainly a more calming sight than what he had seen prior. It appeared to be a library of some sorts with a chandelier hanging above it all, glowing a soft bright yellow with artificial lights. Books lined the curving bookshelves that surrounded the entire room, stopping at the entrance and a door with light bulbs above it.

Henry noticed a book sticking out of the shelves, and he grabbed a hold of it, flipping it open.

He took a moment to pause and look at the contents. It was not much of a book, but rather a binder. Inside were what appeared to be the old concepts for Charley himself. I remember making this. How did it...get here?

Henry's mind soon delved into memories of how he created the characters as he stared at the concepts for Charley's design. Henry wanted to make him a cat character, but Joey dismissed it, saying it was too close to another character at the time. Henry then proposed a humanoid demon character, but Joey thought it would be a bad influence on kids. You're one bad influence yourself, Joey. He didn't remember how he reached the final design, but he did know that he settled on a happy-go-lucky and dense personality.

Before he could reminisce of any other characters, his brain reminded him of the task at hand. Closing the binder, Henry slipped it back into the shelf and heard a light bulb go on somewhere. Turning around, he soon saw one of the bulbs atop the door was lit up a bright yellow. Oh. So that's how it's gonna work.

-

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-----------------------------

Alright, that should be almost all of them.

Coming to a final book sticking out of the shelf, Henry readied his hand to push it back into place.

As he gently pushed down on the base of the spine with his fingers, something bright flashed across his eyes. He flinched back and re-opened them only to fall backwards onto the floor as his hand began to throb. The room around him started to spin and flash violently, the chandelier rocking back and forth as if it would almost fall and disembodied whispers echoing through the room.

Henry was left cowering on the floor in fetal position as it finally came to a halt. As he stumbled up from the ground, he felt a feeling of violent nausea rush through his body. He bent forward and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor, coughing profusely and giving a small sob as the vomit stung his throat with bitter acid and the aftertaste of bacon and cheese.

Standing up straight and wiping his mouth off with his sleeve, he carefully pushed the final book back into the shelve and stepped over the mess, stumbling outwards and leaving the room.

-

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-------------------------

It was a stark contrast to the archive-like library, dark and large with cages hanging from long, pitch-black chains. As Henry looked up to see where they hung from, he was greeted with a large mass of shadows. Looking down from the platform of wood he stood upon, the same shadows collected into an abyss.

Curious, Henry found a nearby empty can and dropped it into the darkness below. He watched as it flew down into the black void with no sound following it.

He gave a sigh as he stared off into the shadows. Looks like this place is a dead end. Things just keep on getting worse for me...I wonder what's happening to Barley?

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

Why did you give us government assigned fursonas.-🏴‍☠️

funny little (in universe) concept versions of the swap dudes. Little doodle

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK'D (Intermission 1)

meanwhile henry breaks his legs

The Voice Of Thomas Connor

These blasted elevators...

Sometimes they open, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they come, sometimes they keep on going to hell and back.

I keep telling these people: if Mister Joey Drew keeps cutting corners like this, someone's sure to end up falling to their death.

And it sure ain't gonna be me.

I'm taking the stairs.

-------------------------------------

"....I just can't do it."

Barley opened his eyes from his unconscious stupor, and turned his head to find Edgar turned away from him, covering his face with three of his hands and holding a knife in the fourth. Confused yet startled, the sailor made an attempt to get up and comfort him, but soon noticed that he was strapped down onto a surgical table.

After a minute or so, Edgar finally noticed Barley looking at him, and he turned around to face him. "Oh- B-Barley..? You're awake?"

Unable to find the words to reply, he remained silent as they both awkwardly stared at each other for a few seconds.

Edgar looked down at the ground and bit his lip. "I-I, um..I suppose I should...get you off of there." he mumbled, placing down the knife and already starting to unbuckle the surgical table's straps.

Another moment of awkward silence passed, broken by Edgar giving a sigh. "I-I just....I don't know why she wants me to hurt you in specific....she-she said she wanted to help me be perfect, but...."

He trailed off and sat down against the wall, and Barley wobbily propped himself up from the table to join him there.

Edgar continued as the sailor sat next to him. "She's in the mirror...and I don't know why. She talks to me all the time about all sorts of things, you know. Sometimes it's nice, but....most of the time she's telling me what to do, or getting after me for something..." The angel said, glancing over at the mirror facing downwards on a side table with the knife.

"Is she like Buddy?"

Edgar looked at Barley with a confused expression. "...Who??"

He soon realized that Edgar had no idea what he was talking about, and he looked away, slightly embarrassed. "...Nevermind."

"You know, I just don't know how you get anxious over everything else, but when this happens, you're calm about it." Edgar questioned.

Barley thought of a response for a second. "...Maybe I thought it was another one of your 'dates'?"

"..You're such a dork."

More silence followed. "....Hey, Edgar. I wanna ask you something."

"Hm?"

"...Why..." Barley paused for a second. "Why do you....hate Henry so much?"

He watched as Edgar looked down at his shoes with a bitter expression. "....He's one of thecreators."

"I know that, you've said that a whole lot...." Barley added, ".....But....what does that mean? How do you even know that he's....that?"

"The creators made us, Barley! They-they...drew us up one day and boom! We're there! Then they...then they made that machine and brought us here! I....I saw something about that 'Henry', way back when....Joey told me about him when I asked. Joey...Joey hurt us. So how do we know he won't do the same?..." He started picking at the splintered floorboards as he went silent.

Barley juggled the spider's words around in his head for a while. "...Maybe...we can get out of here without him."

Edgar glanced over to him from the floor. "...What?"

"Well...Henry...Henry promised to help me find..you and Charley, and...I think he talked about getting us out of the studio, too." He continued. "But...if he's really like Joey....do we-do we really need him?"

Edgar gave a small grin. "Looks like that's a deal we can make." He said, before his expression faded back into a sadder one. "...Every time I think of those damn creators, I get reminded that I'm not real. That I'm just some...drawing."

The angel placed one of his hands next to Barley's. "...But...I guess it was real to us."

Barley gave a nod and locked his fingers with Edgar's. "Real or not, it was nice." He added, and the two sat in comfortable silence.

They made sure right then and there that no one would separate them in that moment.

Not even the "creators".

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

how would ink monster versions of the characters look like?

Ink.....monster? What....what do you mean.......?-✒️

((all honesty i don't know how edgar and barley would look, the rest of the cast has 'ink monster forms in the story.))

of course, i have this outdated reference for ink charley.