#Is it wrong I want to see everyone in the studio gang up on Joey?

[eviethenut]

to clarify: By not actually alive, Henry means: he was just a cartoon

[mwolf0epsilon]

Hello! Writing prompt for you! in your after studio au what about the point of view of the toons finally free inside an unknown world? Do this only if you want or if you haven't already done it. Thank you very much ^w^

Summary: After the studio, there's a lot of new development with the toons.

Another case of getting two birds with one stone. I had a request on AO3 for some Sammy X Norman goodness for Post-Studio AU and I also wanted to play around with the toons, so here you go!

[[MORE]]

One of the hardest challenges was without a doubt healing and rehabilitating the twisted and imperfect toons that had come out of Joey's revolting experimentation. Creatures that had once been broken, feral and horrifying to look upon if just from how wrong their forms had turned out. Pipers, Fishers and Strikers that hadn't been good enough to be Charleys, Barleys and Edgar's, among a few other creatures that had evaded Henry during his journey through the damned cartoon studio.

Toons that were slowly stabilizing and becoming less what he associated with danger and more similar to what they were truly meant to be, if not a little unique in their own way.

Well, not counting the ones that had been absorbed by those who had "donated" pieces into their creation that is… Some toons just weren't meant to be and others were just the missing piece that a Searcher needed to ascend into higher thought as a Lost One.

Still, even after a series of purges, there remained a few sets of Butcher Gang clones as well as one singular Chester creature.

There was also something else that had been a little alarming at first. What Henry could only describe as pulsating "embryos" (not really but he didn't know what else to equate them to) that had been formed from excess ink that had sloughed off from the more stable studio employees.

A process that didn't start immediately after leaving the studio, rather, a few months after everyone started to settle.

Henry still couldn't forget the vivid image of Sammy being sick for an entire week, spitting up ink every so often, and then throwing up a massive blob of congealed ink that had slowly shaped itself into a Bendy clone with the most unsettling pair of eyes he'd ever seen. He doubted Sammy himself could forget the disturbing experience, and was also pretty sure he was a little traumatized by it.

Even so he seemed to almost have taken to toon in as if he were his own child. Not as worrisome as veneering the little fella, but still quite hard to grasp considering his… unorthodox birth…

"Any more Searcher incidents since I've been gone to check on the girls?" Henry had asked as he was let inside by Allison, catching a whiff of breakfast being cooked. Pancakes and coffee from the smell of things. Like a quaint little cafe or the Stein household in his youth. Comforting.

"Not since two weeks ago. All Searchers have actually become Lost Ones since you've been gone." She'd responded as she led the old cartoonist into the spacious kitchen.

The table was quite long, and the seats provided were no longer mostly composed of pillows and stacks of books to boost certain inhabitants of the house. The Projectionist was still forced to kneel to eat thanks to the added weight of the machinery that was a part of his body, but he didn't complain from where he was leaning into Sammy and his height more than compensated for it anyway. Henry could just about see Susie carefully braiding the many tangled wires and thick cables connected to the Projectionist's head and back.

"Uh, really? How many toons left then?" Glancing around he noted that not everyone had come down to eat yet. Tom and Buddy likely both being in the bathroom washing up from running outdoors. A favourite activity of his.

"Three sets of Butcher Gang clones. Two are incomplete." Allison explained. "We think we know who was the originator of the complete set, but their Charley has stated that the trio is fairly happy to remain as they currently are. They are nearly perfect if you ignore the heavy scarring and prosthetics."

"I take it that's Mr. Allwine's set?" Henry guessed. Humming in understanding when she nodded rather than verbalizing her confirmation.

"I recall Mel now that things are coming back to me. He really enjoyed voicing those three, so I'm not surprised he'd rather remain as the Butcher Gang." Susie added as she finished the messy braid of wiring. "I'll miss his jokes though…"

"I certainly won't. He was a jackass at best…" Sammy huffed, eyeing the unblinking toon currently hiding under his chair. "Don't repeat that around the Edgars… Charley and the Barleys will wallop you into fine impish ink."

"M'not stupid." The little imp retorted in Sammy's own voice, although it sounded much younger. Less weighted down by a bitter and heavy conscience.

"I'm not implying that you are, just giving you a fair warning. Socialized or not, those crooks are always eager to pick a fight." Like a parent passing on sage advice, Sammy offered the little wandering menace a pat before pressing a kiss to the Projectionist's neck.

The larger ink man rumbled happily and seemed content between his two favourite people, and even passed a piece of toast to the little devil hidden under the chair. They made for an odd family unit, but Henry was very sure they were happier than they'd been for a long time.

"Sometimes I forget you had to raise a kid before all this…" Henry chuckled, amused by the domesticity of it all, before turning back to Allison. "The incomplete sets?"

"Not a clue. Well, there's one that's just an Edgar, but we know he was part of Grant… Although he reformed without needing to assimilate that piece." She shrugged "The little guy is more mature than the other two Edgars. I'd say he's more of a teenager even."

"And the remaining incomplete set?"

"An Edgar and a Barley. They lost their Charley a while back, but they haven't clung to any particular employee that we can tell… Grant's Edgar has been around them a lot though, so they seem content." Allison flipped the pancakes over as she spoke. "They also orbit around Mel's Butcher Gang. I think his Charley makes them feel safe."

"Good to always have an emotional safety net I suppose…" Henry was at least glad that they hadn't reverted into feral creatures. Socializing them had been pretty difficult considering how messed up they'd been from their failed creation process. Like teaching feral cats to trust. "Anything else?"

"Norman's been leaking a little." Sammy offered. "Not enough to be alarming, but just about enough that we're sure we're uh… Well. Expecting extra company."

As if to prove Sammy's point, the Projectionist let out a choked wet cough, the tube connected to his esophagus uncoiling and shuddering before a blob splattered onto Sammy's lap.

Henry winced at the mess, and gave the curly haired musician a sympathetic look as his face went completely blank. Likely registering what had just happened.

"Ewwww…" the not quite perfect Bendy clone inched away from the drippy mess, while Susie shook her head and got up.

"I'll get the napkins…"

In the Projectionist's defense, he looked quite sheepish for a creature that couldn't properly emote. Hunched shoulders and claws tapping together as he looked down at his knees in shame.

"Lovely…" Sammy pinched the bridge of his nose and just let the blob fall to the ground. It twitched slightly but remained as it was. "You'd think the miracle of childbirth would be nicer to bare witness to..."

"Even if it were the more conventional and biologically sound method, I can assure you it's not as beautiful as most would have you believe." Henry offered with a tight smile as he tried not to think about the tiny inky organism that was slowly reshaping itself into the vague figure of a comic strip character. "And I was there to see it happen twice."

"I take it there was a lot of screaming involved?" Sammy smiled at Susie as she returned with the napkins. He started patting the stains carefully, letting the ink soak into the napkin.

"On my part? Plenty." Henry winced "No one ever told me there's more after the baby comes out… And it didn't get easier the second time around. Linda nearly crushed my hands…"

It didn't take long for breakfast to be done and every single household member to rush down to eat once called upon.

Only now the Projectionist was holding a toon of his own, while he vacuumed up cut up pieces of pancake and orange juice.

All things considered, having a new playmate for the other toons wasn't a bad thing.

If only the little blighter wasn't a troublemaking super villain… His first action was to shoot the pancake pieces out of Tom's fork and the large toon wolf was none too pleased when the little jerk started giggling about it.

-

Binky was surprisingly the easiest of the toons to get along with, right after Buddy. Outside of the studio, the Ink Demon was no longer a sinister figure that haunted the imagination of those who'd suffered in Joey Drew's nightmare.

Instead he was something closer to the cartoon character he was meant to be. Except he was much less troublesome than the mischievous and often misguided devil darling himself. In fact, the lanky imp was rather shy.

Sure he still looked far too human in proportions, and he was still learning how to speak, but honestly nothing about him was as off-putting as Henry initially thought. He felt bad judging him on appearances alone. Just like Joey had…

And, knowing what he did now, Henry didn't blame Binky for any of what he did in the studio.

The tiresome plotline, the living Ink's conflicting will, and the isolation had been the source of the Ink Demon's violent actions.

A scared and confused toddler following the bad examples of others.

But not anymore.

Not for as long as Henry was here to protect these people and help them grow.

Binky's less rumbustious disposition also meant he had a tendency to opt for calmer and more relaxing things to do. Like sleep under the shade of a tree when the weather was nice, watching the fish swim by in the stream, or pick flowers of all shapes, sizes and colors. Often doing so while watching the other toons run around and frolik like wild children.

Most often the poor guy was the unsuspecting victim of the Wanderer's shenanigans (despite Sammy's constant reminders to play nice).

With the addition of Cameraman, things were more hectic.

Others had lost their own excess ink in the span of the few days of Henry's visit, so the roster of toons consistently grew the better some people recuperated.

Jack had actually come down to visit as well, looking positively happy to find so many were experiencing something similar to himself.

In the first week of living with his husband and roommates, he'd apparently shed some more of his own ink and later found a small cartoon sheep staring up at him from under his bathroom sink. That had been an interesting night for the Fains.

Said sheep was eager to meet two others who'd been formed off of two other members of the Music Department. Johnny Brokeheart, the organist that had once been imprisoned inside his beloved instrument, and Julian Whitaker, the cellist that had sometimes visited the Prophet's domain for protection as a Lost One with a prominent limp.

The Woolly Triplets were happy to be together for a few hours before Jack returned home with his third of the trio. The little guy was reluctant to leave Jack's side, and both he and Theo had grown attached to him anyway.

It'd feel strange to part ways so suddenly.

Henry had marveled at the interesting cast of characters that were still coming together.

There were now three wolves, three angel, a demoness, a living camera, two imps, a leprechaun, two pirates, a living pirate chess, and three spiders.

He could only imagine what else might pop up the next time he came around to check on everyone.

It was truly a full house.

One full of silly shenanigans and exasperated parents that didn't want to admit their kids were adorable but little hellions. Such an odd thought, being a parent to a cartoon character that had at one point been their means to earn money… Odder still how easily they connected with them.

Perhaps because they'd come from them? Like an actual offspring?

That seemed to be the case with Sammy at least. If anyone had reasons to resent a certain grinning devil, it had to be the false prophet who'd grown disillusioned.

He loved the little Wanderer though.

Unsettling eyes and grin be damned, he was a proud da and did what he could to raise him.

Same with Norman who actually had proper experience as a father, and then even Susie who'd been a little miffed that she didn't have a little Alice to tend to, but still took on the responsibility of teaching Miss Twisted to not be too much of a nuisance (she loved her really, like mother like daughter they ended up becoming in less than an hour).

Even those who Henry hadn't pegged as the sort to want to be parents were doing grand with their own toons.

Grant was an exemplary father despite his neurotic personality, and even Bertrum and Lacie seemed fond of acting as an uncle and aunt to the toons. Teaching them things and letting them get away with things their parents wouldn't.

It was… honestly very nice.

Nothing the toons didn't deserve after such a rough start.

[halfusek]

I know this is more an Adobe Outdesign thing, but could you rank the 13 employees from most lovable to most unlovable? Or if you don’t want to rank them, could you sort them into those two categories so I know which of them are deserving of love?

if we’re talking canon

deserving of love: everyone but sammy and joey

nasty, bigotic rats, sitting in the corner of shame: sammy and joey

you asked for empoyees so this is the ranking based on what kind of people they are

which is not going the greatest for these two

but if we are talking about characters...

1. Wally - look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love him (if you wan’t a more constructed opinion - he’s a fun comic reIief, that’s not annoying in any way, the onIy downside to him couId be that if he’s not a boris then he serves IittIe to no purpose in the story [if he is reveaIed to be something in batdr, there is no cIear evidence/foreshadowing of him turning into anything] buuuuuut that’s not about his personaIity, so doesn’t make him any Iess IovabIe)

2. Joey - again, he’s an awfuI person, but a great character, honestIy, mostIy fIeshed out of aII the other characters in batim, and the onIy reason i’m not giving him the first pIace is that often peopIe straight up hate him because he Bad fdnfdkdf, but hey he’s the supposed antagonist, so that’s Iike the point, and aIso whiIe being so fIeshed out there’s a Iot to know/reIate to/understand about him, howeeeveeer he’s a bad person so he’s not exactIy IovabIe, and waIIy has so much personaIity that is actuaIIy IovabIe that he obviousIy deserves the first spot

3. Susie - what can i say, she has great backstory, we don’t exactIy get to see most of her character deveIopment, but she was given some if the tapes and her behavior in them are anything to judge, she’s a kickass antagonist as AIice, again as a character she’s great, of course there is so much you can say for greatness about an antagonist as a person, but by now yaII shouId know this Iist is biased to characters that are better written [aka im wiIIing to give more Iove to a character i can get to know better than a character that is a protag and does good things]

4. Jack - he’s round and has a hat 10/10 don’t @ me

5. Bertrum - he’s extra, crushes Mister Joey Drew every two sentences, i think the reason he’s getting Iess Iove fandom-wise is Iate introduction [just chapter 4 and a bit in the book, IittIe mentions on boards in chapter 5]

6. Henry - i guess positioning henry in the Iist can be very biased [as it goes for the rest of characters ofc] mostIy depending whether or not you Iike quiet oId guys XD i mean honestIy to me it makes sense how henry reacts even if it’s out of Iaziness to try to make him act with more energy, or it’s because he’s dead inside because of the Ioops, or if it’s just to make the pIayer react, or aII of these combined, but i think his personaIity fits and i Iike him. he’s soft but takes no shit

7. Norman - one sane person in the studio question mark? aIso a cryptid that makes jokes about joey being dead. good one, mister poIk, i respect that

8. Thomas - i wish he had more emotions than Anger, Anger and Anger but there’s something troubIed about him which makes him interesting, aIso i personaIIy Iike pissed gruff characters that manage to be soft at times [towards aIIison, Ietting henry side with him and aIIison]

9. Sammy - okay maybe some peopIe are gonna be surprised im putting him this Iow but... i reaIIy dont Iike how sammy is written at this point, and ive never been a big fan from the start. I kinda digged his Chapter 2 characterisation but that was mostIy for the theories and headcanons about his backstory and purpose... In retrospection I dont reaIIy care for Chapter 2 Sammy or book Sammy. I actuaIIy Iike Chapter 5 Sammy the most [which I know many peopIe actuaIIy disIike which is ofc vaIid, thats just how I feeI ^^], Iike to me Chapter 5 actuaIIy gave him some depth, whiIe the rest is just Oh Look Ink Made A Musician Go Crazy and aII we know about him from before is that he was an angry asshoIe? Like gee even Joey had more moments of being nice X’D even if he’s a fundamentaIIy worse person than Sammy [which i don’t think we are abIe to judge at the moment but uhhh Sammy actuaIIy kiIIs peopIe whiIe we haven’t seen Joey do that just yet]

Don’t get me wrong, I do Iike Sammy but I think most of that Iove comes out of AUs and headcanons. I think the writing couId have an easy fix with just making him a better person in the past - in the next noveI that’s supposed to focus on Susie for exampIe - as the Hot Topic Takeover cIaimed him to have been

10. Grant - dude i don’t know you weII but are you Iike okay i wanna comfort you

11. AIIison - pIease have some fIaws, you’re so nice but I’m just super bored with you! You’re a queen but, pIease, I beg of you!!!

12. Lacie - most Iove she gets is from fanon interpretations of her being a undestroyabIe godess, she seems Iike a cooI gaI and aII but if her purpose is just being a Iost one and crying then meh [best case scenario seems to be being a butcher gang member or the bendy animatron but it’s aII bIury and the evidence isn’t super strong]

13. Shawn - I just hope he’s more than a JackSepticEye cameo, he’s energetic and “couId be” a fun person but it’s too much up for the headcanons, we don’t reaIIy Iearn much about him aside from the fact he fucks up doIIs and joey yeIIs at him for that, and we know nothing about his fate either, the answer is probabIy as boring as him being the giant searcher and the most hopefuI theory is a butcher gang member

[realm-sweet-realm]

Moving On

This takes place chronologically after the events of another one of my stories, called “Breaking the Time Loop.” I think it’s understandable without having read it, though. I hope everyone enjoys it.

---

For twenty three years, Sammy Lawrence had longed for everything he had now. Freedom. His old body. The whole, open, colourful world for him to live in. Even his relationship with Susie Campbell had been given back to him. In his daydreams, Sammy had fantasized about publishing the music he’d written in his years of captivity, becoming involved with a church, marrying, and never coming back to that horrible studio or performing demonic arts again.

Less had changed than he expected. Until he was finally free, he had never realized just how attached he was to the churches he already had within the studio, and the people he’d helped there. And so, every day after work, he’d head into the sketch dimension. The portal to it had found a new home in the closet in the bathroom of his brother’s apartment, where he and Susie were staying until they found their own place to stay. Joey had been perfectly willing to help him move it: there was no more closure to be had from the sketch dimension, and a part of Joey was honestly just happy that someone from the dimension was moving on and helping to salvage the souls of the damned.

Within the dimension, Alice Angel was hard at work sending the souls of Sammy’s cult to heaven. A necessary part of that was separating a soul from the hive mind that lost one’s tended to become when left unattended.

There was nothing functionally wrong with separating them out as needed like Alice was doing. The souls, spread out across dozens of bodies, simply wouldn’t be aware of themselves. A few of them, Sammy knew, had never even attempted to separate due to what could only be described as a very weak will to live. The only problem was that Sammy didn’t like seeing his people melt away into a languid hive. That was why he reopened the Church of Unity and returned to it whenever necessary, playing audio logs for anyone who had forgotten who they were.

There was a good deal less to do at the Church of Unity now that Alice was at work- nothing helps one’s will to live like not being hunted by a demon and the concrete promise of escape. And of course, now that Bendy had given life back to every person he could, the Church of the Ink Demon was permanently closed. The only other “work” he had as a pastor was in encouraging the occasional lost one who was afraid to give himself over to Alice. As a result, Sammy had a lot of time to spend hanging out with the important people in his life. He and Jack were still best friends, and would Sammy often played music with him. Jack also joined Sammy, Tom, and Alice for games of cards. He generally wouldn’t leave the sketch dimension until ten or eleven at night, when his body’s need for sleep forced him to.

At first, Susie stayed up for him. Though, his social batteries were usually drained by that point, so he typically just showered off and went to bed after that, careful to remove every drop of ink from himself and the floor. Susie hated seeing ink in any quantity greater than what would come out of a pen, and she hated when Sammy talked about what was going on in the sketch dimension. Thing was, that was pretty much Sammy’s whole life. Eventually, she stopped staying up for him, making him agree to have dinner with her and his brother each night before disappearing into the sketch dimension instead.

Over dinners, he mostly let Susie talk. She’d always been the type to enjoy talking about her day and the like. As of late, she’d been talking about new technologies and other little things that had changed between the forties and the sixties that she wanted Sammy to see. His response was always the same: “we’ll do it on the weekend.” As of late, she’d been doing a lot of complaining about him not becoming more involved in “the real world.”

Sammy hated that. The people of his cult were real. Real and important to him. If Susie didn’t want to listen to why that was (and she didn’t. She didn’t want to hear a word about the sketch dimension) she’d just have to accept it blind.

Despite some bitterness towards her, Sammy did feel bad about neglecting to make a life outside the sketch dimension, especially as Susie began to lose interest in him. And that wasn’t the only problem with living most of his life there. The other problem was that the people that made up his life were disappearing before his eyes.

Sammy had always known that that would happen eventually, of course. And he knew that his people were going to a better place, and that there was no way for them to live in a physical body again. Still, when someone he had known was there one day and gone from him the next, he couldn’t help but think of it as their death. Like people he knew were dying on a regular, steady basis and the studio just kept getting emptier.

Alice was the only one he could talk to about that. He didn’t even want Susie to know about it. So, when his memories of some ascended lost one were keeping him up at night, he’d leave and head for somewhere where no one could bother him. Oftentimes to his old sanctuary. From his time in captivity, he was used to hearing lost ones cry at night. He was even used to being one of them.

Susie noticed that Sammy’s mood had taken a turn, and was even aware of him leaving at night, but she didn’t know what to do about it. He denied that it was even happening, until a particular event pushed her to act.

It had all started when Sammy had come to Alice and Tom’s place, as he had many times before, only to be greeted by a strange, sketchy, black-and-white man. The man was tall, burly, and completely unsurprised by Sammy’s shock. “Like my new look? Oh calm down, Sammy. It’s Tom. Come in.”

“How...?”

“You see, Sammy,” Alice explained, “I decided to get one of the harder cases over with. The searcher that you’d isolated in that cage because she’d gone entirely insane. Well, after a few hours I realized that there was no fixing her. I should have known. She couldn’t even even speak, the poor thing. So I did what I did for Norman’s soul and just blanked it out and let Tom use it to change form. Boris here might be fine as a mute dog, but Tom isn’t!”

“Oh. Uh, congratulations, Tom. You look great!” Sammy replied, though he was much more concerned with his favourite blob with a hat. “She was so insane she couldn’t talk, you say?”

“Oh, Sammy. I promise you that Jack is going to be fine. I don’t know why he’s always stayed a searcher, but you know that none of them can talk. His soul seems pretty normal from what I can see.” From the corner where he was stroking Boris the wolf, Jack nodded in agreement.

“Alright, good to hear,” Sammy had said. That night, though, he laid awake, pondering his friend’s mortality, and the promise he’d made to his church to do everything in his power to save them. And it just seemed so unfair that he should get to live, just because he happened to have kept a bit of his own hair.

Sammy sat up in bed. That was it. The only way to bring him back was to get some physical remains of his. If that tiny, inky bundle of hair was enough for Bendy to do his magic, then anything ought to do.

Sammy retrieved a phone book from the drawer, taking a glance at the clock, which read 2:36. This was insane, and Sammy knew it was insane. Nonetheless, he flipped through the pages until he came upon the name “Fain.” It made most sense to just start at the top of the list and work his way down. He dialed the first number, the noise painfully loud against the silence of the night.

“Hello,” came a sleepy, female voice. Sammy had to wonder what he’d been thinking, doing this at this hour. Yet, it felt too late to back out now.

“Yes, hello. Do you have a relative named Jack Fain?”

“Uh, let me think... yeah. An uncle, I think.”

“Is he dead?”

“What?

“Sorry, I mean, uh...”

“Who is this?”

There was a silence.

“I’m hanging up-“

“Wait! I’m a geneticist from uh, New York University! We have reason to believe that he had a rare but harmless genetic abnormality that we’d like to study. Do you have anything that might have his DNA?”

“Oh, okay. I’m sorry, no. You might have a better chance with one of his adoptive kids, but I doubt anyone has anything. He went missing a long time ago. Can I give you one of their numbers?”

“I’d love that.”

Within the next ten minutes, Sammy had been on the line with all three of Jack’s adoptive kids, and was no closer to securing Jack’s DNA. He hung the phone back up and slumped to the floor, defeated and ready to cry. His sheep might be going to a better place, but he was still losing them, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Susie and Sammy’s brother watched in silence from the hall. Susie beckoned his brother over.

“What should we do?” she whispered.

“I don’t think we can get through to him,” he replied.

“I think I know someone who can.”

Susie left the man’s side and left for the entrance to the sketch dimension. Even just poking her head through the door and seeing the sepia-toned studio on the other side made her heart pick up the pace. Slowly, she forced herself in, and pulled the door shut behind her. She checked it to make sure that it was in fact unlocked. Alright, she could do this. She’d done it before-done it for years. And it wasn’t as though the ink demon was here this time.

“Relentless forward momentum, Susie. Just do it, and don’t look back.”

Susie made her way through the studio, found an axe, slaughtered a few butcher gang trios, and found the elevator.

Relentless forward momentum. Don’t think, just do. There were plenty of artifacts of her past to trigger her memories, but she refused to take any of it in.

After a trip through Bendyland, she came to an ink river and stopped dead. Allison would be on the other side of this. Come on. Relentless forward momentum. It’s not gonna melt you. After some serious hesitation, Susie got in, waded through as quickly as she could, and found herself at Alice’s door. She gave it a few hard knocks.

“Who is it...?” Alice asked sleepily.

“It’s Susie Campbell.”

Confused, Alice got up and opened the door. Sure enough, Susie was there. “Susie! What brings you here?”

“It’s about Sammy. He’s not adjusting to the real world and I don’t think he would listen to anyone else. I want to give him an intervention, but could use you to soften him up. What do you say?”

Alice hesitated. Susie was getting desperate. “This is the last time he’ll ever get to spend with these people, Susie. I’ve seen into his soul, and you have no idea how much his people matter to him and how good his time here was. Have you ever considered just letting him grieve?”

Tears pricked at Susie’s eyes. “I wish I could see how he’s grown. But all he wants to do is come here. And talk about here. And I don’t wanna ever think about here again. All the ways I was hurt, and hurt other people... I just wanna forget it all and he won’t let me. Alice, if nothing happens, I’m going to have to leave him for my own sake so that I can move on. And I’m worried about how he’ll take that. He’s already crying almost every night, and tonight he was lying to people on the phone and acting like a fool in the middle of the night because he doesn’t want to lose Jack. I don’t wanna put a break up on him on top of that. What should I do, Alice?”

Alice looked to Susie with pity. At this point tears were flowing down the smaller woman’s face. “I guess you should at least warn him,” she sighed. “About the breakup, that is. I guess I can try talking to him. I’m biased, Susie. I don’t know what there is to value out there. I only know about in here. But I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Susie choked out.

“Can I walk you to the elevator? You look like you swam here.”

“There’s an elevator?”

“Yep. The lost ones made it.”

That explained why Susie didn’t know about it. Why would the lost ones share their knowledge with a monstress who wanted to vivisect them for their hearts? But, Susie didn’t have to think about that. A few minutes, and she’d be out of this inky hell.

—-

Sammy was overjoyed that Susie was finally allowing him to bring Allison and Tom out of the sketch dimension. He had something very important to tell them. After, of course, showing them around a little.

Allison in particular was awestruck as they walked downtown together. “There’s so much colour. Oh my gosh, what’s this one called?” Allison asked, pointing to a woman’s dress.

“Indigo. And the belt’s colour is called red,” Sammy said. Showing Allison around like this made him feel like a hero. Suddenly, Allison tore off to a cart selling flowers. By the time he’d caught up with her, she was face-deep in them.

“Oh, Sammy... you told me there were a lot of different kinds of these things, but... I never thought there would be this many.”

“Wanna buy some?”

If it were possible, Alice’s face lit up even more. Sammy bought her some small indigo flowers.

Soon, they were at the park they’d intended to go to. “So,” Alice began, voice somber, “I have something to tell you.”

“Really? Me, too.”

“You first.”

“Okay. So, I know you don’t really know yet what you’re going to do once you’re on the outside, and I’ve been thinking that you and Bendy could make a great team for curing mental illnesses like schizophrenia or dementia. Just kill them, manipulate the soul, and have Bendy bring them back to life. Easy, and it would probably bring in a lot of money.”

Alice looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t the people out here have more reservations about death than us?”

“Oh, right. But, they also have reservations about torturing themselves with mental illness. I think a lot of people would still take it.”

“I don’t know, Sammy. I kind of want to find out who I am when I’m not killing people and manipulating souls. I don’t expect you to get it, but choosing who someone is supposed to be without their input is stressful. I’m not sure I can even do anything about dementia- it’s more a physical thing. And just... look around,” Allison gestured at the park. “It’s beautiful. Tom and I want to come out here and try something new. Anyhow, do you know if Bendy would be up to it?”

Sammy looked pensively to the grass. “No. Can I call him now?”

“Sure.”

So, that’s what Sammy did. Bendy picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Bendy. It’s Sammy Lawrence.

“Hi, Sammy! To what do ah owe the honour?”

“This is... mostly hypothetical, but I was wondering if you’d be up to joining in a little project with Allison. It would involve moving across states to live with her, but I can imagine no greater use of your gifts.”

Bendy was silent a moment. Then, he heard Bendy call out, “Dad! It’s Sammy! He wants me to move in with Alice!”

“What?” Henry grunted before taking the phone and chasing Bendy off to play. “Sammy, hi! How are you adjusting to the real world?”

“Good...”

“Good. Now look, I’m sorry, but Bendy relocating now is not a good idea.”

Sammy was surprised with the strength of his reaction. “But why? You don’t even know what my plan is.”

“Because, Sammy,” Henry said patiently, “Bendy is a child. It doesn’t matter what the plan was. He needs his parental figures.”

“No he isn’t,” Sammy retorted, “He’s a powerful, 20-something-year-old demon that can control ink and raise the dead.”

“Yeah, but he spent several of those years locked and chained in an empty room, and spent the rest of them wandering around in a pocket dimension attempting to steal a soul. And right now, he wouldn’t want to be separated from me for two days, let alone to move to another state with Tom and Allison. Mentally, he’s just a child with abandonment issues. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him long-term, Sammy. Right now we’re going to try putting him in school. He’ll probably be ready for something like what you’re talking about one day. But right now, we honestly just want to move on.”

“Oh. Okay,” Sammy said. Then he hung up.

“What did he say?” Alice asked.

“They want to move on.”

Alice nodded. “That’s the thing I needed to tell you. Susie is worried about you. She thinks you have to move on.”

Sammy hid his head in his hands. A ton of thoughts, most of them nasty, brewed. He counted to ten and said, “Susie doesn’t realize how important my cult is to me. She doesn’t want to talk about anything.”

“She’s traumatized.”

Sammy strained to keep the anger out of his voice and the tears out of his eyes. “Why couldn’t you have just fixed that when you had the chance? It hurts us. You fixed that other guy.”

Alice sighed. “That’s different, Sammy. Depression is basically the brain not producing enough of a couple chemicals. To use the writing metaphor, it’s a matter of correcting a couple grammatical errors. With Susie, it would be like rewriting the plot, or deleting sentences. Susie’s trauma is about her memories, and her interpretation of them. Unless it were necessary, I couldn’t just... delete soul-deep memories. I could have planted thoughts in her head so that she wouldn’t be so affected by them, but after doing so much of that already for her identity issues and aggression, I just wanted to keep it low-interference wherever I could. And maybe that was a mistake. There isn’t a manual for this, y’know. I have to make choices and then live with them.”

“Oh. Okay,” Sammy replied, resigned. “If I can ask, what’s the biggest thing you did to me?”

“I made your thinking less black and white. That’s about it.”

“Okay.”

Sammy sat in silence a while, head on his knees. “What are you going to do when you can come out?” Sammy asked. “Who will you stay with?

“Presumably Tom and I will just live in the sketch dimension until we can afford a real place.”

“Okay. I was just thinking about letting the sketch dimension go for Susie’s sake. The thing is, I don’t want to leave you to learn about the world alone-“

Alice grabbed Sammy’s hand. His perfect, creamy white hand. This was someone pure. Someone who wouldn’t be stared at by every man woman and child out here. “Sammy. Look at yourself. You belong out here. With people. I wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

“You wouldn’t be. Alice, I’m not the person I was going into the sketch dimension, and I wouldn’t want to be. I want to discover who I am now and how I could fit in to this world, too. That’s what Susie doesn’t seem to get- even when my cult is gone, I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. We could figure out our new lives together. Tom, too.”

Alice would have blushed if she were physically capable of it. She also laughed a little, which confused Sammy. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. It just that I was supposed to get you to see the light and leave the sketch dimension behind. It seems like I’ve done pretty much the opposite. I’m gonna warn you, though: Susie and your brother are waiting for you to come back to the apartment so they can do a little intervention for you.”

The two came back to the apartment together, where Susie and Sammy’s brother were waiting. They had a serious talk together about what Sammy could be doing to handle loss better, and Sammy listened. He also explained his side of the story and what he’d planned with Allison. Susie was devastated, but also relieved when she and Sammy broke up. After the intervention was finished, Susie called her sister, and was moved out within a week.

—-

It was a little over a year later, and Sammy was rowing across a lake with Allison and Tom, where they planned on having a picnic to celebrate the anniversary of Tom and Alice’s entry into the real world. Sammy was happy that he’d chosen to be a part of it.

had found their place in a little town that housed the greatest hospice in New York State. The people out here had gotten used to having two sketchy, black and white people around. It had taken time, though. Sammy had gotten a job at the hospice fairly easily, but it took him a while to convince his boss to give Allison a chance. It had turned out to be a good place for them both to use their skills, including ones Sammy had developed during his time as an ink creature. It was far from a secular hospice, so Sammy could even use spirituality to comfort some of the patients. Alice occasionally took a soul home and fixed it up enough to land it in heaven, which she found to be a good balance between using her power and being more than it. Tom was also happy working as a lumberjack. Even aside from work though, it was a nice town, though- small, tight-knit, out in nature, had a nice church.

Not all of their transition was easy. It was very hard for Tom and Allison to discover that just because they’d been together when their were no other options, didn’t mean that their love would survive once they were free to make other choices. Alice and Sammy had had feelings for each other on some level since the moment they’d met, and became a couple pretty much the second that they were both single at the same time. The trio remained friends, though, with Tom living fairly close by and visiting often.

Sammy had readjusted some of his unused music for the modern age and had released them to some success. Susie had called him to congratulate him as soon as she saw a record with his name on it for sale. They exchanged stories about how they were doing. Susie was doing well. She was back in voice acting and was getting fairly good roles, and she was engaged now. That had been a couple months ago, and they hadn’t talked since. That was okay. Sammy had moved on. At their own pace, everyone had.

---

Do you guys think Sammy made the right choice? When I started writing this, I was thinking I’d end it with Sammy giving the portal to the sketch dimension to Henry, forcing himself to move on, and eventually marrying Susie.

[queenofcats17]

Her Perfect Angel

@spaloonbabooguuscooties made me ship Susie and Alice so here we are.

Also with a good deal of Susie/Allison.

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

The creature that had once been Susie Campbell hated herself. 

She’d always struggled with a certain amount of self-loathing; worrying she wasn’t pretty enough, wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t good enough at her job. But when she’d been cast into the machine by Joey, her self-hatred had taken on a whole new level. She’d been perfect when she’d first emerged, the perfect representation of Alice Angel. But Joey had marred her, had taken away her perfection. If she was going to be Alice, she had to be perfect! She had to perfectly embody Alice! She couldn’t let Alice down. She loved Alice more than anything. No one could say she didn’t. 

It had just been an attachment to the character at first. She’d had so many roles in her life, but none had been quite like Alice Angel. Alice was the first role she’d really felt was a part of her. She’d loved being Alice. It had just been so much fun to do her lines and sing the songs written for her. Alice was so wonderful. So...unlike her. Being Alice eased the voices in her mind that told her everything that she wasn’t. Maybe that was why she’d let Joey call her Alice.

As time had passed, though, the attachment had become something more. Something almost...romantic. Alice was the kind of girl who haunted Susie’s dreams. The kind of girl she imagined herself going out to dinner with, holding hands and watching movies with. She knew Alice would treat her right, not like all the men she’d dated over the years. Alice wouldn’t pressure her for sex or insult her when she didn’t wear makeup. Alice would love her the way none of those men ever had. And if it were an angel, it would be okay! It would be okay to be in love with a woman if it were an angel! Because...Because angels didn’t actually have genders. So it...It didn’t count...Right?

Susie had known most of her life that she was attracted to women. But she wasn’t supposed to like women. Because she was a woman. She’d tried so hard to convince herself she was “normal”. She’d dated Sammy, and later Joey, in an attempt to make her feelings go away. But neither man had made her feel the flutter in her heart that someone like Allison had. 

Allison...Susie had met her before the role of Alice was taken from her. Allison had been taken on to provide additional background voices. Her face had given Susie butterflies. Her long silky dark hair, those big brown eyes. Allison looked just like what Susie imagined a human Alice would. Even after losing her role, Susie had never had it in her to hurt the other woman. She’d yell, yes, but she could never bring herself to hurt Alice Angel, even if Allison wasn’t actually Alice.

Allison was so kind, so wonderful. She truly was an angel. Even after Susie had screamed at her for ‘taking’ her role, Allison had still tried to reach out to her. Allison had tried to help her. Even now, Allison was still trying to help her.

After being marred, ‘Alice’ had holed herself up on Level 9. She had to find a way to be perfect again. Alice had to be perfect. She couldn’t let Alice be this...This monstrosity. She had to find some way to fix herself. She seldom left Level 9 unless she had to, delegating her work to whatever poor soul ventured across her. 

Allison came by sometimes. She’d bang on the door under the “She’s Quite A Gal” sign. The door that Alice never opened. 

“Susie, I know you’re in there.” She said. “Please, let me in.” 

“I’m not Susie, I’m Alice!” Alice screamed. Why wouldn’t Allison just go away? What was the point of tormenting her like this? Allison was already perfect, a constant reminder of how much better she was than Susie would ever be.

“Please, let me in,” Allison begged. “I’m worried about you.”

Tom stayed near the elevator, watching her plead. He’d told her that this was pointless. The woman behind those doors wasn’t the one Allison remembered. Allison would need to do a lot more than pleading to get through to the creature that had once been Susie Campbell. He didn’t see the use in coming here and essentially banging her head against a wall. But Allison was like a daughter to him, and he couldn’t say no to her when she pulled out those puppy eyes. So, he waited at the elevator until Allison hung her head and walked dejectedly back to him.

“How long are you going to keep doing this?” He asked.

“As long as it takes.” She replied. Tom just sighed, pressing the down button.

In her sanctuary, Alice strapped another Butcher Gang clone to the table. She had to be perfect. She tested the edge of the ax, wincing as the blade bit into the flesh of her finger, drawing black blood. The clone on the table struggled and screeched, but it wasn’t going to get away. 

“Dreams come true, Susie.” She whispered to herself, swinging the ax down. “Dreams come true.”

All the days seemed to blend together being trapped in the studio. Alice had long since lost track of time. Years could have passed on the outside. She didn’t care. Time had no meaning here anyway. It was useless to try and cling to it. Still...Sometimes she paused and wondered if anyone on the outside missed her. She had a family. Surely they were looking for her. Everyone else, though...She’d driven them away. Or Joey had made her push them away. 

Those were the moments when she broke down, wailing her lamentations to the rafters. She cursed what she’d become, what she’d done. More than anything else though, she cursed the name of Joey Drew. She stood at the very edge of safety, screaming obscenities at the demon she knew was listening. 

“I am perfect, Joey!” She’d screamed. “Everyone does love me! They do! You’re wrong! You’ve always been wrong!” Inky tears streamed down her face as she stood there, her whole body shaking. She got no response. She never did.

“Coward.” She’d spit before returning to her sanctuary.

Sometimes she wondered if this Hell was a punishment. She certainly hadn’t been the best person after losing her role. The things she’d said to Allison still weighed heavily on her heart. As much as she wanted to blame Joey for her behavior, the majority of it had been all her. He’d fed her insecurities, her anger, but he hadn’t made her lash out against everyone around her. He certainly hadn’t been complaining, though, the bastard. But wallowing in self-pity wouldn’t get her very far. She had work to do.

.

Alice’s days followed a certain rhythm. She didn’t often sleep as her dreams tended to be plagued with memories of her transformation, (Joey cutting her open, rummaging around in her insides. The pain was so bad she wanted to pass out. But she never did. And always always Joey’s voice. Promising her she’d be perfect. Promising she’d be an angel. He’d lied.) but when she did sleep she’d wake up screaming or crying. Once she was awake, she’d inject herself with some extra thick ink to keep herself from falling apart. Her body tended to get rather drippy when she was upset or angry. There was nothing more terrifying than feeling your body begin to melt. After she was more put together, she went looking for Butcher Gang clones to harvest hearts from. The Searchers and Lost Ones were out of the question when it came to harvesting hearts. She wasn’t sure if the Searchers even had hearts, and the Lost Ones were too far down for her. Not to mention, they were protected by Sammy. Occasionally, she’d also go and destroy some cutouts on the Heavenly Toys level. 

That was her life now. Awake, ink, harvest, sleep. Rinse and repeat. She didn’t need to eat anymore, so she couldn’t take comfort in food. Even if she had needed to eat, stale bacon soup likely wouldn’t have helped her mood. The more time that passed, the colder and more detached she became. She was starting to forget what her life had been like before this. She was starting to forget who she’d been before all this. She was Alice, she kept telling herself. She didn’t even acknowledge Allison anymore when the other woman came to plead with her. Susie Campbell was dying for a second time. 

That was when She arrived.

.

She’d been elbow-deep in a Fisher when she heard the knocking. Assuming it was just Allison again, she elected to ignore the knocking. That is until she heard her voice. 

“Hello? Anybody here?” That voice...A mixture of Allison and Susie’s voices. Beautiful and angelic and pure. And afraid. “Alice” withdrew her hands from the corpse on her table, stumbling over to the monitors to see who was at her door. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. 

A perfect Alice Angel stood in front of her doors, knocking tentatively on the metal. She was splattered with ink and shaking in what “Alice” assumed was fear. It was only natural she would be afraid. This was no place for an angel. “Alice” turned away from the screens, starting toward the door. She had to let her in. It wasn’t safe out there. Suddenly, though, a thought crossed her mind. 

She could be perfect if she killed this Alice. 

After all, this was a perfect Alice. Just like the cartoons in every way. Even Allison still looked mostly human. But she quickly dispelled this thought. She couldn’t even bring herself to harm Allison. How would she make herself kill this perfect Alice? No. Best to take the angel in. She would never forgive herself if she let something happen to this perfect being. 

Alice’s face lit up as she opened the door. 

“Oh good! I was gettin’ pretty worried!” She chirped in that lovely voice of hers. “Thought I might be banging on the door when there was no one home.” “Alice’s” heart swelled. The smaller woman had such a lovely smile. 

“It’s unwise to be making so much noise.” “Alice” cleared her throat, trying to still the butterflies in her stomach. “You never know who could be listening.”

“Boy do I know it.” Alice laughed weakly. “I had a pretty nasty run-in with Bendy earlier. He’s definitely looking worse for wear.” She bit her lip, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“You must be very scared.” “Alice’s” voice held a softness it hadn’t for quite some time. 

“Me? Scared? Psh!” Alice put her hands on her hips, smiling broadly. “I’m never scared! I’m not like Bendy!” “Alice” gave her an incredulous look. Alice’s smile faltered and she let her arms fall at her sides as her whole body deflated.

“...Yeah.” She admitted sheepishly. 

“Alice” couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re very brave, my dear.”

“Really?” Alice perked up a bit. 

“Yes.” “Alice” smiled. God, how long had it been since she’d actually smiled? Not a smirk or a grimace, but a real smile. She...She felt like Susie again.

“Y’know, you’ve got a nice smile,” Alice said, reaching up toward “Alice”. “What happened to your face, though?” “Alice” abruptly drew back at the mention of her face, her point of imperfection. The moment was gone. Susie was dead.

“It’s nothing.” Her voice was cold now. “Come inside. It’s not safe out there.” Alice’s horns drooped a bit, like the ears of an animal. 

“Well, okay.” She followed “Alice” into the sanctuary.

The angel screamed when she saw the corpses in the sanctuary. “Alice” supposed she should have warned her. She felt a pang of guilt at the horror painting the angel’s features. She didn’t care if others called her a monster for what she’d done. But not Alice. She didn’t want Alice to be afraid of her.

“I apologize for the state of my sanctuary.” She said. “I didn’t know I would have a guest.”

“Why...Why do they all look like that?” Alice asked, pointing to the Butcher Gang clones. She couldn’t look at the Borises. 

“I don’t know.” “Alice” cast only a cursory glance over the mangled remains. “My best guess would be that they lack souls. They’re barely even sapient, just beings that exist to attack and kill.” Her lip curled in disgust. They were disgusting creatures, perpetuating the Ink Demon’s tainted ink. She was doing them a service by freeing them from their torturous existence. 

“Did you...kill them?” Alice whispered, looking up at “Alice”. She looked on the verge of tears.

“It had to be done.” “Alice” said. “I couldn’t allow them to trail their tainted ink into my halls. I needed their hearts.”

“Their...hearts?” 

“I needed their hearts to make myself perfect.” “Alice” smiled, gesturing to herself. It wasn’t a kind smile. It was cold, almost unhinged. Alice’s eyes widened and she made a small squeaking noise. 

“But that’s not important.” “Alice’s” smile dropped. “You must be tired. I’ve got a cot in the back you can sleep on.” She began to make her way across the boards spanning the ink moat. Alice scrambled after her. 

“Gee, thanks.” She said, wrapping her arms around “Alice’s” arm. “I really appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome.” “Alice” allowed herself another tender smile. “I would never forgive myself if I abandoned an angel.” 

Alice perked up at the smile, a smile of her own filling her features. She held onto “Alice’s” arm tighter, in delight rather than fear. She’d known this lady had a soft spot to her! Now, she just needed to figure out how best to help the other woman. It was an angel’s job to help people in need, and Alice would eat her socks if this woman wasn’t in need.

.

In the weeks and/or months that followed, Alice did her very best to cheer up the woman who also identified herself as “Alice”. She lived for the tiny smiles and genuine laughs she could elicit from “Alice”. Despite what “Alice” insisted, Alice thought the other woman had a lovely laugh. Yes, she snorted a little, but that was what made it cute! Her nose also did this cute crinkly thing when she actually laughed. She was really something.

Alice also started venturing out into the studio in an attempt to find things to cheer “Alice” up with. Her efforts were always short-lived, only lasting a moment or two before “Alice” grew cold once more, trying to reject the brief shows of vulnerability. “Alice” didn’t like Alice leaving the safety of level 9, so Alice snuck out while “Alice” was busy with harvesting a heart or sleeping. She was always careful when she snuck out. “Alice” would probably be really sad if she didn’t come back.

It didn’t take long for her to discover the first audio log from Susie Campbell. She’d been doing some cleaning in the area outside “Alice’s” little surgery room, the one filled with corpses and a moat of ink. In between exploring, Alice had started clearing out the corpses as best she could. It wasn’t healthy to live in a place with corpses. She was certain “Alice’s” mood would improve if she could get rid of the corpses. Alice had made her way to the platform in the top right corner of the room to get a Striker that was just out of her reach. That was where she’d discovered the audio log. 

“What’s this?” Alice frowned, looking it over. She’d seen them around, even played a couple. They were from people who’d probably worked at the studio at some point. She wasn’t sure why “Alice” had one. “Alice” didn’t seem like she liked anyone who’d worked at the studio. Except maybe Wally. Curiously, Alice pressed play. To her surprise, “Alice’s” voice came out of it.

“Who would have thought? Me having lunch with Joey Drew! Apparently, times are tougher than I thought. For a moment there, I thought I’d be stuck with the check. But I gotta say, he wasn’t at all what I expected. Quite the charmer. He even called me Alice. I liked it.”

Alice’s eyes went comically large, and she let out a gasp. Immediately, she scooped it up to show to “Alice”.

“Alice! Alice!” She yelled, running into “Alice’s” workroom. “Alice” looked up from her work, a frown marring her lovely features. She was in the process of extracting a heart from a Piper, wearing her ink-splattered apron and clutching her bone-saw.

“Darling, I’m in the middle of something.” She said gently.

“I know, and I’m awful sorry to bother you, but look!” Alice proudly held out the audio log to “Alice”. “The lady on here sounds just like you!” “Alice” froze, looking up at Alice. It was hard to read her expression, but Alice suddenly felt as though she’d made a mistake.

“What...Does it say?” She asked slowly. 

“It, um, well, the lady talked about having lunch with Joey Drew?” Alice took a step back. “She said he was a charmer and he called her Alice?” 

“Ah...That one...” “Alice” looked away, putting down her saw. Her shoulders slumped and a look of exhaustion settled on her face.

“You okay?” Alice asked. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought it was cool. That there was somethin’ that had your voice on it.”

“It’s alright.” “Alice” shook her head. “I...I shouldn’t have kept that. It’s just a monument to my own foolishness.”

“So it’s...You on the tape?” Alice’s eyes widened again. 

“It’s who I used to be.” “Alice” corrected her sharply. “I’m not that person anymore. I’m Alice Angel!” She slammed her hand into the wall before drawing into herself. Her breathing began to speed up as she wrapped her arms around herself muttering, “I’m Alice Angel. I’m Alice Angel.”

“Of course.” Alice was quickly at her side, patting “Alice’s” back. “Alice” had done this once or twice before. It always worried Alice because she didn’t know what was bothering her angel or how she could help her. She didn’t like seeing “Alice” so distraught. So, as she held “Alice”, whispering comforting words to her and stroking her hair, she decided she had to get to the bottom of this. 

While “Alice” was busy, Alice started looking for other logs with “Alice’s” voice on them. The next one she found was in a little room near the elevator. To her dismay, this one had “Alice” in tears.

“Everything feels like it’s coming apart. When I walked into the recording booth today, Sammy was there with that...Allison. Apparently, I didn’t get the memo. Alice Angel will now be voiced by Miss Allison Pendle. A part of me died when he said that. There’s gotta be a way to fix this!”

Alice frowned down at the tape. It sounded like “Alice” had been her voice actress before everything had gone to shit and Joey had replaced her with this Allison lady. “Alice” had said something about Allison before, but only when she thought Alice wasn’t listening. To Alice, it certainly seemed like “Alice” was sweet on Allison. Whenever she talked about Allison, she usually talked about how incredible and kind Allison was. 

“I gotta find this Allison dame,” Alice muttered to herself. She knew she made “Alice” happy, but there was a lot she didn’t know about her. “Alice” and Allison had some history, evidently, and Allison could probably help with some of the problems Alice couldn’t. 

But she had no idea where she could find Allison. So she had to pursue a different lead. Sammy. “Alice” had mentioned him before. He seldom left the Music Department, apparently. If “Alice” had been a voice actress, then there was probably information about her there. Maybe Sammy even knew her! Sure, “Alice” said he was a liar and a bastard, but he couldn’t be that bad.

Except...he kind of was.

Her first meeting with Sammy Lawrence didn’t go...amazingly. Upon seeing her, he proclaimed her a minion of the “False Angel” and tried to grab her. Probably to sacrifice her. He seemed pretty keen on sacrificing things to Bendy. There was a lot of screaming from both of them before Alice managed to slip. She was a bit disheveled when she returned to “Alice’s” sanctuary. 

“I’m back!” She announced, slipping under the door. 

“There you are!” “Alice” ran over and scooped her up, holding her close to her chest. “I was so worried! I couldn’t find you anywhere!”

“Sorry, hun.” Alice laughed weakly. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“Where were you?” “Alice” demanded, inky tears streaming down her cheeks. Alice felt her stomach twist. “Alice” was really upset. Golly, she’d really messed up.

“The...The Music Department.” She mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 

“The Music Department?!” “Alice’s” voice rose. “What were you doing there?! You could have been killed!”

“I’m sorry!” Alice shrunk back. "Alice’s” anger abruptly went out as she saw the tears glimmering in Alice’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice softened. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s okay.” Alice sniffled.

“It’s not.” “Alice” shook her head, taking a few deep breaths. “I scared you.”

“I must’ve scared you something awful, though.” Alice insisted, grabbing Alice’s hand. “I’m real sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I shouldn’t have gone down there.” She rubbed circles on the back of “Alice’s” hand with her thumb. “Alice” relaxed a bit at Alice’s touch.

“Why were you there in the first place?” She asked. “It’s dangerous there.” Alice shuffled her feet, looking comically guilty.

“I...wanted to find out who you used to be.” She admitted with a sheepish grin. “Alice’s” face twisted as her mouth opened to yell. 

Alice quickly cut her off, holding up her hands. “Wait wait! Before you start yellin’, let me explain!”

“Alice” frowned. Still, she closed her mouth, waiting expectantly.

“You get really upset sometimes,” Alice explained. “About things I don’t know about. I thought, maybe if I could find out who you were I could figure out how to help you.” She smiled sweetly, starting to play with her tail. “Alice” bit her lip.

“I was no one special.” She hunched her shoulders, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m better off being Alice.”

“But you were special!” Alice grabbed “Alice’s” hand again. “You were my first voice actress, right? You were the first person to bring me to life!”

“And then Joey replaced me.” “Alice’s” lip curled in a snarl. “That bastard.” The snarl quickly faded, though. “But Allison was good. She had the loveliest voice.” 

“You’ve got a pretty voice too!” Alice insisted. “You’re both great! Joey’s the one to blame!” She nodded in what she hoped was solemn understanding. She actually looked pretty ridiculous, enough to make “Alice” start giggling. She tried to hide it, but it was futile.

“What? What’s so funny?” Alice demanded.

“You’re adorable.” “Alice” laughed, ruffling Alice’s hair.

“Well, duh.” Alice scoffed. “I’m an angel!” “Alice” laughed once more, gazing fondly down at Alice. 

“My name was...Susie.” She finally said. “Susie...Campbell.” She was still holding Alice’s hand, trying to draw strength from it. 

Alice gasped. “That’s such a pretty name!”

“Thank you.” It had been a long time since she’d thought of herself as Susie Campbell. But maybe if she had Alice with her...she could gather the courage to be Susie Campbell once more.

“I love you, Susie!” Alice proclaimed, throwing herself onto Susie. Susie’s heart skipped a beat. 

“I...I love you too.” Those three words...They still held so much power. Especially coming from the woman she’d spent years fantasizing about. Alice pulled back, grinning. 

“Does this mean we’re a couple now?” She asked, her tail wrapping around Susie’s leg. Susie stared at her for a moment before replying with a smile of her own. It was a bit haughty but still kind and genuine. 

“Only if you want to be.” She leaned down to press her lips to Alice’s. Little hearts began to pop up around Alice’s head. 

“Oh, golly.” She started to sway a bit when Susie pulled away. Susie laughed her own heart fluttering. For the first time in a long time, the studio seemed bearable. 

.

Now that Alice knew who her angel was, she could focus on finding Allison. She didn’t really want to go on any more exploration expeditions, (especially not if they’d end up worrying Susie as much as the last one had) but she’d have to do something to find Allison. There weren’t really a lot of options open to her. 

“Is Allison around here?” She asked Susie one day. Susie was taking apart another Butcher Gang clone while Alice sat on a bench. She was feeling better about the whole dissection thing, but only really when it came to the Butcher Gang clones. They didn’t seem at all sapient, so it really was a mercy to destroy them. 

“She’s....around,” Susie said slowly, pausing in her dissection. “I don’t know where she resides, but she’s here somewhere.”

“Have you seen her?” Alice started to kick her feet against the bench. 

Susie shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting from Alice to the clone. “...Yes. She used to...come here. Before.” 

“Before me?”

“Yes.”

“Why did she come here?”

“She had her reasons.” Susie turned her attention back to the clone as if he were trying to will this conversation to end. Alice narrowed her eyes, trying to look like a noir detective. There was something here that she was missing. Another mystery she needed to solve. 

“Did she have a crush on you or somethin’?” 

Susie’s knife abruptly stabbed into the heart, sending a spray of ink all over her and the room around her. 

“T-That’s ridiculous!” Susie sputtered. “As if she would have a crush on me.” She huffed, beginning to wipe her face off. “I’ve ruined a perfectly good heart. I’ll have to get another.”

“I’ll go get it!” Alice said quickly, hopping off the bench. “I ruined it, so I should replace it!” This was her chance to go find Allison!

Susie raised an eyebrow. “Darling, you’d best not be planning anything.”

“Me? I could never!” Alice gasped, putting a hand on her chest in mock horror. Susie rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Are you sure you can handle bringing me a fresh heart?” She asked, her smile fading a tad. “These things are incredibly dangerous.”

“Psh!” Alice scoffed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

She’d been wrong. She’d been very very wrong. She’d thought that she could just swing the ax and everything would be fine. And it was. At first. Then the Searchers had shown up and now she was on top of a Little Miracle Station while screaming and waving the ax ineffectually. She knew Susie had cameras. She’d probably be here eventually. But how long that would be was up to debate.

Suddenly, the door to the stairs was kicked open and two figures came charging out. One was a Boris with a robot arm and the other was...

“Susie?” Alice whispered. But, no, it wasn’t Susie. This woman had smaller horns and her halo served as something like a headband. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore overalls over what was probably her Alice dress. She carried a sword, carving through the Searchers and Butcher Gang clones as though she had been doing this for a long time. She and her companion made quick work of the monsters.

“Is that all of them?” When the woman spoke, her voice was different from Susie’s. The Boris nodded. 

“You saved me!” Alice tumbled down from the Miracle station. The woman turned to face her, taking a step back and letting out an involuntary gasp. 

“Susie?” 

“No, I’m Alice,” Alice said. “I’ve been staying with Susie.” The Boris looked from Alice to the woman who was probably Allison. He seemed rather confused by Alice’s presence.

“You’ve been...Staying with Susie?” Allison said slowly. 

“Mm-hm.” Alice nodded. “She took me in when I first popped out of the machine.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Um...” Alice frowned, trying to count on her fingers. “I, uh, golly, it’s hard to tell time down here. It was a while ago.” Allison watched her, brows furrowed, passing her sword from hand to hand. 

“Anyway, I’ve been looking all over for you!” Alice gave her a big grin. “Susie’s gonna be real happy to see you!”

“Why would Susie be happy to see me?” Allison’s voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible. 

“Hm?” Alice tilted her head to the side. “Didja say somethin’?”

“Why would Susie be happy to see me?” Allison repeated. “I stole her role from her. I took everything she cared about.” She took a few shaking breaths, trying to fight back tears. “I’ve gone to her door for years. I’ve begged. I’ve pleaded. But she won’t let me in. She hates me! I know she does! And I deserve it!” 

Her shoulders began to shake as she tried desperately to stop the inky black tears from dripping down her cheek. She drew away, covering her face. The Boris put his mechanical arm around her, gently patting her back. 

“But...she doesn’t hate you.” Alice was confused and more than a little upset. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Allison was supposed to be excited. She was supposed to jump at the chance to see Susie again. 

“Alice? Are you alright?” She started at Susie’s voice coming from the elevator shaft. The elevator was running, the car ascending to their floor. Allison hadn’t noticed, but the Boris had. He nodded solemnly toward Alice, giving her a thumbs up. 

“I’m okay!” Alice yelled back.”I got saved!”

“Saved?” Susie’s face came into view as the elevator reached the floor. “By...Who...?” She trailed off when she saw Allison. As soon as the grate opened, Alice grabbed her hand and began dragging her over to Allison. The Boris took a step back to give them some space.

“Alice! Stop it!” Susie tried to pull away. 

“No! You two need to talk!” Alice insisted, grabbing Allison’s hand. Allison turned, and the two women made eye contact. 

“Susie...” Allison’s voice was quiet and reverent, like someone come face to face with a god. Susie tried to hide her mangled features. 

“Now, Susie and me are an item,” Alice explained with a wink. “But I wouldn’t mind another person in her. ‘Specially ‘cause I’m pretty sure Susie’s got the hots for you.” 

“Alice!” Susie’s face was quickly turning grey. Since their blood was ink, she and Alice tended to blush an interesting shade of grey. Something which Susie was demonstrating at that very moment.

“You don’t...hate me?” Allison perked up a bit. 

“I...” Susie hunched her shoulders, trying to hide behind her hair. “I could never hate you.”

“But all those times I came to your door!” Allison took a step toward her. “All the times you yelled at me!”

“Do I have to say it?” Susie turned back to look at her. “You’re so kind and wonderful. How could I ever compete with you? Especially now!” She gestured to herself. “I’m a monstrosity! I was awful to you!”

“This place messes up everyone.” Allison closed the gap between them, cradling Susie’s face in her hands. “We’ve all done horrible things here. As for the yelling, I forgive you. I took your role away from you. You were upset. I understand.”

“There was no excuse for the way I acted toward you.” Susie looked away. “You were so kind afterward, too.”

“Still, I forgive you.” Allison smiled gently. 

“We love you, Susie.” Alice wrapped her arms around her. “Both of us do.”

“It’s that obvious?” Allison laughed, a blush developing on her own cheeks.

“Wait, you...you actually do love on me?” Susie’s voice went up an octave. “R-Romantically?”

“Yeah.” Allison began playing with her overall straps. “I have ever since the beginning. I was so excited to work here because I’d be working with you.” She bit her lip. “I was a huge fan.”

“She’s also pretty good with a sword if that sweetens the deal,” Alice whispered loudly to Susie. “Gotta dig a lady who can kick your butt.” 

“You are not helping.” Susie rolled her eyes. Still, the prospect of a girlfriend with a sword did evidently pique her interest, judging from the gleam that had entered her eye.

“I wouldn’t mind providing some...assistance if you need it.” Allison held up her sword. “I am pretty good with a sword.”

“I might take you up on that offer.” Susie looked her up and down, a sly smile spreading across her face. 

“Glad you two made up.” A gruff voice came from the corner. It was then that they all seemed to remember the Boris was still there.

“You’re the guy from the elevator tape!” Alice yelled, pointing at him. Susie frowned, tensing once more. 

“That’s Tom,” Allison explained. “I’ve been surviving with him.”

“She’s basically my kid. Can’t let her go it alone.” Tom said, shrugging. Susie relaxed again.

“Thank you, Tom.” Allison glanced back at him. Her expression was that of a child who very much did not want their parent to ruin their chances with the person they were into.

“Golly, I’ve got two girlfriends now.” Alice hummed, swinging her hands back and forth. Those hands were now holding Susie and Allison’s hands as well. 

“Oh! Oh! Let’s show her the sanctuary!” Alice began jumping up and down, looking at Susie. She’d managed to clear out all the corpses, so it would at least not look so crazy.

“Alright alright.” Susie laughed softly. Alice started dragging both women toward the elevator, Tom following behind. This was certainly going to be interesting.

[adobe-outdesign]

Re-Created: Chapter 5

After Joey passes away, Henry finds a way to make everyone look human again, one by one, using the Ink Machine. And this story is going to have a happy ending, even if he has to write it himself.

[Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6]

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“We’re not doing anything except going down to the Music Department,” Thomas points out. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“And visiting a sermon lead by a guy who wants to kill us,” Allison counters, placing her sword into its sheath.

“Listen, we either sit back and let Sammy keep ruining everyone’s lives, or we hear whatever crazy bullshit he has to say and see if there’s anything we can use to prove him wrong.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t think it was a good idea. I just said I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“So you think it is a good idea?”

“No.”

Tom lets out a snort of laughter and Allison smiles, then gazes down the hallway in anticipation.

“Shouldn’t we at least tell Henry?” she asks. They start down the stairs, Thomas leading.

“It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, if we tell him he’ll probably insist on coming with us, and we’d all be screwed if something happened to him.”

“And if something happens to us?”

Thomas doesn’t answer.

They arrive in the Music Department less than fifteen minutes later after traveling through a complex series of stairs and doors that Thomas could’t hope to understand. “How the hell do you remember where you’re going?”

“I’ve tried mapping this place before with no luck. You learn the layout of everything after a while, but it doesn’t connect logically, so- shh.” She holds out her hand, Thomas grumbling that he wasn’t saying anything. Sammy’s voice drifts down the hallway to the left.

“This way.” They move in the opposite direction, ducking down into an open area with a recording sign decorating the far wall, then into a larger room that was probably intended for a band back when the studio was still open. They slide into a nearby recording booth, ducking down behind the wall where the glass ended.

“I remember this!” Allison whispers, grinning excitedly. “I used to spend hours in here recording my lines. Sammy would stand nearby and complain about my pitch.”

“I’m sure you sounded wonderful,” Thomas whispers back with a smile. He motions for her to be quiet as the room starts to fill with voices. 

Allison peers over the ledge, watching as the once empty space suddenly becomes crowded. Inky figures appear, some entering through the door, some seeping out of the walls in a black mass. The recreated Lost Ones had claimed that Sammy announced the times of the sermons from within the ink, as it was near impossible to tell time in the studio. Apparently, everybody had gotten the message.

“There he is,” mutters Thomas as a black shape forms into something vaguely human-like up on the balcony above. Sammy clears his throat, and the crowd goes quiet.

“I’m glad to see you here, my sheep. As always, it is an honor to have so many attend our sermon. May those who don’t be shown mercy by our Savior.” His gaze sweeps over the crowd, expression unreadable due to the mask covering his face. A soft chorus of murmured agreements rise from the group.

“I’m sure you’re all well aware of the... issue of the false prophet, claiming he can free us from the ink.” Sammy leans forward on the balcony, resting his hands on the guard rail. Allison leans forward in anticipation.

“Remember, my sheep. The creatures this newcomer makes only look human. That is because only our Lord is capable of freeing us from the ink, restoring our bodies back to flesh and blood. If you follow the false prophet’s advice... that would be blasphemy, and your resulting sin would keep you from ever truly being saved. We must remain devout to our Savior and be patient... can I get an amen?”

A few “amens” rise from the gathered Lost Ones. Allison puts a hand on Tom’s shoulder and squeezes it, noticing the way his fist is clenched in anger.

“Furthermore, I have proof that the false prophet lives up to his title. He visited our humble Music Department the other day, claiming he could save Jack... I’m sure you’re all familiar with him at this point, correct?” Sammy pauses,waiting for confirmation, and a few people nod.

“I could not leave the studio to watch, for as we all know that would be against our Savior’s will. However, I did return to the dark abyss once more to see what had happened, and Jack was still there, lost to the ink. May our Lord have mercy on him.” Sammy turns towards the recording booth, and Allison feels her heartbeat pick up.

"Of course, if you still feel inclined to believe these lies, we have two visitors here that can offer some insight. Come on out, my sheep. I know you’re there.”

Allison feels a pit form in her stomach as turns to Tom. “How did he-?”

“Never mind that,” Tom growls. “What the hell are we going to do? There’s a lot more of them then I thought there would be.” He pulls his axe close to his chest, peering over the edge of the booth.

“Now, now. Come on out. We just want to talk,” Sammy calls. “Don’t make us force you out. The results could be... unpleasant.”

“Let’s just go with it for right now,” Allison whispers, grabbing Tom’s arm. “We can make a run for it once we have an opening.”

Tom gives her a solemn nod and the two exit the booth, uncomfortably aware of the dozens of glowing eyes focused on them.

Sammy seeps down the edge of the balcony, reforming on the floor below as they approach. He beckons them over. “Leave your weapons on the ground, please. We don’t allow them during our sermons.”

Tom mutters some kind of insult and drops his axe on the ground. Allison follows, setting her sword down next to the axe considerably more gently.

“There. Now that we’re all situated, may I ask what brings you here? I doubt you’ve come to worship the savior like the rest of us. Or, perhaps, you’re merely here to spy?”

Neither of them speak.

“That’s what I thought.” He leans in close to Allison. “Do I know you? You seem familiar...”

“We used to work together, remember? I took over Susie’s role as Alice. I used to be Alice,” Allison mutters in a reserved tone, subtly glancing at the exit. The Lost Ones were scattered haphazardly around the room, and a few Searchers had spawned at some point. They’d have to fight through at least twenty or so of them to get to the door, and that wasn’t counting the ones who would inevitably pursue.

“That’s right, I remember now! You always had a lovely voice.” Sammy leans in, mere inches from her face. Tom grabs her and pulls her away, looking like he was about to punch the music director any second now.

“Easy, now. I’ll let you go... if you do one thing first.”

“What makes you think you get to bargain?” Tom snaps. Sammy turns towards him, ink dripping from his form.

“What do you want?” Allison asks, stepping in front of Tom before he can say anything else that might put them in jeopardy.

“Simply admit that the false prophet did nothing to save you, and that he can’t do anything to save us. Admit your sins before the Lord, so that you can be forgiven for them.” A Bendy cutout stares at then unnervingly from the corner.

“I...” Allison glances at Tom, who had wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. “I... confess. Henry didn’t do anything to save us.” The words feel bitter on her tongue.

“That’s right. Thank you for confession, and may our Lord have mercy on you.” He motions two Lost Ones from the crowd forward. “Please, escort these two back to the upper levels. We’ll be holding onto the weapons, just to make sure you don’t try anything.”

They walk in silence out of the department.

Tom waits until they’re out of earshot to speak. “I’m going to goddamn kill him,” he mutters.

There’s a chattering noise coming from outside.

“Easy, buddy,” Henry murmurs, standing up from the table where his drawings are. He eyes the door warily. “I’ll go take care of it.”

Allison and Tom had left to pick up supplies a while ago, and the other former Lost Ones had left the hideout to work on clearing out some suitable living spaces in the lower levels, as the small room was getting overcrowded. He was alone save for Boris, who, judging by the way he was currently cowering in the corner, wasn’t going to be much help in a fight.

He grabs a pipe wrench off the table and ducks down by the base of the makeshift door, which was really just a large plank of wood leaning up against the open frame. He nudges it forward, peeking around the edge. A single Butcher Gang member - one of the Pipers - stands in the hall, making a strange garbled noise. Henry expects it to attack, but instead it just stares.

“Help,” it finally manages to say. “Me?” 

“You want me... to hep you?” Henry repeats, not sure if heard that correctly. The creature nods. Henry hesitates, glancing back at the still-cowing Boris, who had climbed on top of the chair for safety. He was so used to seeing the cartoons as enemies that it was hard to remember that they must have been people too, if what Tom said was to be believed.

“Wait. That message.” He nods to the writing near the bottom of the nearby wall, asking for help. “Did you leave that?”

“Of course,” it rasps, the noise mostly a mess of garbled syllables. “Who did you think?”

Henry glances back to the hideout one more time before making his decision. “Okay. You can come in. But you have to leave the wrench here.” He nudges the wood open the rest of the way and the Piper slips through the entranceway, obediently dropping the weapon on the ground.

“It’s okay Boris,” Henry calls, pulling the door back into place. “He won’t hurt you. I think.” The wolf slowly uncovers his eyes and sniffs at the newcomer, but doesn’t dare to get down from the chair. Charley drags himself slowly to the far wall, collapsing against it with a light thud. He breathes with an awful rasping sound.

“Are you... okay? You seem hurt.”

“Always hurt,” the creature snaps.

“Right,” Henry says, not entirely sure how to respond. “Well, Allison and Tom are out. We’ll need to wait until they get back to get things set up. In the meantime, we can at least figure out who you are-”

“Shawn,” the Piper rasps between labored breaths, sitting up straight to stare at him with half blind eyes.

“Wait, you mean like the guy who worked in the toy department?” He had never meet the man, but he had learned about him through the tapes and Joey’s notes. “Shawn... Foley?”

“Flynn,” the cartoon corrects. Now that he thought about it, the creature did seem to have an accent underneath of the garbled tones. 

“Well... that’s one mystery solved, I guess. Now we just have to wait for Allison and Tom to get back.”

There’s a knock on the makeshift door.

“Wow,” is all Henry can say after the two have finished explaining. “You guys aren’t hurt, right?”

“Thankfully not,” Allison mutters. “Sorry. It was a pretty stupid plan in hindsight.”

“It would’ve worked fine if Sammy didn’t see us,” Tom mutters. Allison shoots him a look.

“Did you find out anything useful, at least?”

“Not really. He just talked about how you can’t be trusted because you can’t actually free us from the ink. Which isn’t true,” she adds quickly, noticing the expression on Henry’s face.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah... he mentioned that Jack guy. Used him as an example of how you can’t save people very well,” Thomas muses. Henry swears softly. 

“What?”

“Sammy said that Jack knew where to find him once he was remade, but that was the first attempt. After all of the chaos I completely forgot to tell Jack to go back and talk to him.”

“No wonder he thinks you’re a failure,” Alice muses, leaning back in her chair. “Do you think Sammy will change his mind if he sees him now?”

“I have no idea. Can’t hurt to try, I suppose.” Henry’s gaze drifts back to Charley, who had procured a needle and thread from somewhere and was now stitching one of the many holes in his side shut. Tom follows his gaze.

“So you want to tell us why you let that thing in here?” he asks, clearly not happy about the arrangement. The Piper emits a low warning snarl at the word  “thing”.

Henry briefly goes back over what Shawn had told him. “I figured we should help him too,” he says in a low voice, keeping his eye on the Piper as he speaks. “It’s not really fair to leave them out, especially if they were once human. Even if they keep attacking us.”

“Look, I respect what you’re trying to do here, but those things are dangerous. You’re going to get yourself killed one day letting every sorry soul who shows up at the door in here.”

“So you won’t help?”

Tom averts eye contact. “I didn’t say that.”

“We can go get the Machine prepped while you get the ritual set up,” Allison offers. Henry nods and utters a quick thanks as the two get up to leave. Allison walks out, but Tom stays behind, motioning Henry into the corner.

“I don’t mean to stick my nose in places it shouldn’t be, but I figured it was worth asking,” he intones in a low voice, grabbing a nearby chair to sit in. “When are you going to change the dog back?”

Henry looks back at the table. Charley had finished with his impromptu stitching and had joined Boris, who was happily lounging on one of the many cots. The wolf sniffs at him cautiously for a moment, then moves aside to let the other cartoon join him. “You mean Boris?”

“I keep expecting you to announce that he’s next, but instead you keep ignoring him completely. I mean, have you even talked to him about it?”

“I mean- no, I haven’t. I didn’t realize...” He looks back at Boris, feeling unnerved. With the others, it was obvious they were once human - you could see it in their off-model designs, in how out of character they acted. Boris just seemed like Boris.

“How many times do have to tell you this before you get it? Every living thing in this studio used to be human. That includes him.” Tom crosses his arms.

“I... guess we could try something. We’d need to figure out who he was first-”

“He’s Franks,” Thomas interjects. Henry stares at him dumbly.

“You mean the janitor? How can you-?”

“I have my ways of knowing, all right? Besides, you can tell just by looking at him. Kid was always a dumbass.” There’s a strange, evasive tone to Thomas’ voice.

Henry opens his mouth, then closes it agin, struggling to find the right words. “I’ll talk to him about it,” he finally finds himself saying.

“Good. Let me know how it goes.” Thomas pushes the chair back with a screech and leaves, taking a toolbox with him. Henry sits there for a while, thinking, then goes over to Boris and gives him a gentle scratch on the nose.

“Hey buddy. You want to play rummy? I’ll deal. Shawn, you can join us if you want.” Boris nods his approval and Charley falls off the cot, stumbling over to the table with them.

He wasn’t lying. He would talk to Boris, of course.

Later.

[kaz3313]

Hell is the Ink Machine

I swear the title will make sense eventually 

This is part 1 (of I think 2 or 3 parts) of a fic enspired by @a-rae-of-sunshine ‘s idea’s. Idk why this idea resonated with me so much but it did!

Graphic depictions of violence ahead, proceed at your own risk

 As Joey Drew hears the door handle click open his heart begins to race and he sucks in a long breath; what he assumes to be his last.

 Everything in the studio had previously been going perfectly or as perfectly as a business can run. The animation department has been chugging out two episodes a monthly, one month three cartoons due to a Christmas and Hanukkah special, but quality still is priority.

Sammy Lawrence and Jack Fain recently won an award for the soundtrack for the cartoons; Sammy displays it in his office with pride and would make sure to polish it every week so both musician and lyricists names shone. Sometimes Jack, while passing by the music director’s office, would be caught staring at it. Besides Jack and himself no one was aloud to touch it; especially not Wally who would ‘break it’.

The toy factory is busy as ever;Joey had to hire twelve more people other than Shawn, who was the head of toy making, to help with all the demand for the toys. Bendy, surprising, did not sell the best, that place was held for the little angel, Alice. Due to such good sales the toy makers began to experiment with some side character right now the Butcher Gang.

Bendy Land is coming around nicely though its debut would take an estimated two years. That was fine with Joey, the park would be well worth the delay. It will have many extravagant rides.

Then there was the ink machine that will make extreme profits when-

Well it would’ve, if not for immediate threat present-Henry Stein.

Henry, oh dear Henry Joey thought to himself, what broke the poor fellow Joey has no clue. He was always a hard worker and overall good man. Joey asked him last night to look at some cells on his desk. Just a quick review nothing major.

“Are you sure that’s all you want Joey?” And Joey nodded and that had been the last thing that had been said between them.

Now Henry is off attacking anything and anyone he sees. Now the reaper who once was his friend is at his doorstep. He should grab something, Joey thought absentmindedly, to defend himself from Henry but...he doubts he could fight the man much less defeat him. It wasn’t due to his disability- Joey had fought many a man despite it-no it was a pesky feeling that refused to leave his heart. He squeezes his eyes shut, as the door opens and slams shut, and hopes with all his heart that however his death ensues it’s quick.

“Mister Drew! I’m glad it’s just you in here- Henry is in the music department and wrekin’ havoc!” Joey opens his eyes to see the exasperated janitor before him. Sweat pours down his uncharacteristically grim face.

“Well thank the gods it’s just you Wally; how badly were people hurt in the animation department? I hope no one ran down to the infirmary…” Joey says; Henry couldn’t be purposely going after people right? When Joey had seen him he could tell something was wrong, like he didn’t know what was going on.

“No one got to the infirmary- pretty sure I’m the only one that got outta there,” Wally’s voice was hollow even when he said his usual catchphrase. It suddenly dawned on Joey what he meant

“he’s killed everyone?” But even as Joey asks the question he knows the answer. He felt his body tremble as tears begin to streak his face. He shakingly grabbed the phone but the line was dead.

“Um, what should we do?” Wally asks but the only response is a pitiful sob.

Sammy Lawrence held the only thing he could find that had any resemblance to a weapon that wasn’t an instrument (despite the conditions his mind scolded him when he first picked up the banjo), a dust pan from the supply closet. Henry had gotten ahold of the only fire axe that were in the first two levels and swung it around widely like everything was a monster.

 A shiver takes over Samuel's body as the memory of Henry killing all the musicians replays in his head. He stood in the projectors booth and all he could do was stare. Henry didn’t even blink an eye when the body's would spray blood on him or when people would beg for their lives. And the madman wouldn’t stop at just hitting them once, even if it killed them the first time, he’d strike them several times. Then there was Johnny who Sammy heard his screeches while Henry played the organ. Sammy doubts he’ll ever forget what’s happened but best not to dwell while the killer is still around.

  Sammy is going to stop Henry himself and if that means sneaking up behind him in the infirmary then that’s what he was going to do. Unfortunately Henry isn’t in the infirmary when Sammy arrives which mean he traveled down farther...into the sewers where Jack was. Sammy feels ice run through his body as he continues to sneak through.

Sammy’s mind refuses to stop racing. He desperately tries to calm himself down with his quickly self made plan. Just hit him hard, in the back of the head, and then run. It’s not that hard- don’t start focusing on the fact that an axe is a much deadlier weapon then a dust pan and don’t focus that a dust pan isn’t a real weapon and don’t think about the fact that Henry could probably overpower you in a millisecond without since he’s big and bulky and- his thoughts cut off when he comprehends the scene in front of him.

Just like the band members being killed everything turns to slow motion with Sammy stuck in place like a statue. Henry has Jack cowering in the center of the room a box swaying above him.

“N-now, Henry, we can be civilized- just put down that axe and step away from the switch and we-” Jack’s voice is unnaturally raised two octaves as he tries to reason with the monster before him. but Henry does neither as he flicks the switch down a ten pound box dropping with it. A loud crunch echoes through the room and carnage is sprayed on the back wall. Henry approaches it; for what Sammy doesn’t know because he’s already running away. As he leaves he hears Henry’s once comforting now chilling voice.

“Sorry I had to do that, nice hat though” Sammy chokes back a whimper.

 Sammy is a wreck even when Henry returns, walking into his office. Jack the lyricist-no- his best friend was just killed by someone he was once considered a friend. Jack who would always talk with in the morning even when he was the grouchiest. Jack who would find words to even the worst tunes. It became a game of theirs for Sammy to make a horrendous melody and for Jack to make just as  horrendous lyrics to it. Somehow Jack failed at the game because even if the words were inherently dirty or dark they always went perfectly with the music

Sammy’s body refusing to stop shaking even when he reasons to himself that this could just attract Henry to him quicker. What he needs to do is gather his courage and just face him otherwise others could get hurt. Sammy always complained about everyone being annoying but seeing everyone get brutally murdered made him want to keep those around safe...who was around though? The band is gone as is most of the music department but Sammy never saw what became of Norman who often would be in his booth.Norman seems like the man to try and evacuate anyone he can, so Sammy silently believes the unproven truth he conjured for himself. He Doesn't know the fate of Wally either who’d often bother any poor sap who’d listen to his ramblings (Sammy couldn’t believe he’s thinking it but he hopes to hear the janitors stories soon). Thinking about it he didn’t see any of the voice actors and actresses not even-

Susie.

Susie could be hurt and at that realization Sammy’s fear is lost. Adrenaline pumps through him as he runs behind the torturous man swinging with all the force he can muster. Henry collapses onto the ground with a loud thud the only noise following is Sammy’s heavy breathing.

“We have to leave soon sir. If we stay here we’re just lambs waitin’ for slaughter,” Wally says, Joey looking at him with wide eyes. Wally guesses he’s not used to hearing all this serious stuff, especially from him, and he admits he’s not used to it either. He still can’t get the screams from the animation department out of his head nor the image of Henry staring right at him. The unstable animator’s shirt was stained with red that was impossible to ignore on his white shirt. His eyes were dead to the world as he had approached Wally in the back of the room.

“Oh god,” Wally thought he was regaining his conscious but that wasn’t the case “what did Joey do?” Then he grabbed Wally by the shirt. His voice died in the back of his through but his mouth still did the motions for spoke silent pleas. Henry tilted his head before taking the wrench out of his shirt pocket before walking away. That’s when Wally realized the man wasn’t seeing the world like everyone else; he was lost in his own mind.

The door creaks open again which not only brings Wally back to focus but he picks up the chair he had his hand on moments ago. He throws it at the approacher while glancing around the room for anything that could be a good weapon.

“Damn boy! What in hell has gotten into you!” Thomas curses out pushing the chair away making a path for him and Alison to walk through.

“Oh, Tom,” Wally says expecting to loosen but he feels his body tense and before he knows it he’s inconsolably crying on Thomas’ shoulder. In the background he hears Joey desperately trying to explain what has happened calmly but Wally can hear his own cracks in his voice. Not only that but he’s sure Tom and Alison have noticed his puffy tear stained face.

Sammy drags the unconscious tied up Henry through the music department not knowing where to dump him. He had to keep an eye on him,so he wouldn’t get away, so it couldn’t be the band room where corpses were currently rotting. It would be kind of fitting though, stuck in a place with all the people you’ve murdered ( were these the only people he’s murdered though? Sammy isn’t sure he wants an answer) and Sammy didn’t find it as cruel as he knew he should.

Why not just kill him? The thought kept creeping into his brain but Sammy dismisses it again. Not for the fact Henry deserves to live but rather for his own sanity he couldn’t see another person die  and killing someone with his own hands definitely wouldn’t tip his mentality in any good way.

Then Henry begins to stir and Sammy drops him where he is, backing up.

Alison sits quietly trying not to stare at the mourning terrified men. She was recently hired to do voices of background characters, singing trees and that kind of nonsense, and though she wants to help she doesn’t know either of these people well enough to be of much comfort. She knew Wally was a chatty janitor and handyman that would spend a lot of time with Tom helping him check on the ink machine. She knew he had a partner, who she was unsure but she heard some whispers from other voice actresses that he was taken. Not that she was asking; she was with Tom after all. Joey, even if he was her boss, she knew even less about. He didn’t come out of his office too much she guessed due to the stairs everywhere (she wasn’t sure why they hadn’t just installed ramps inside the place instead). She doubted it was for the reason he liked to keep to himself becoming every time she did come to his office he was with someone chatting to someone. Actually, if memory serves her correct, he chatted most to Henry...her frown deepens.

At least Tom was there he seemed to be handling this better then herself.

“We need to leave quickly-“ Tom begins to say Wally already nodding to what was being said.

“I’m staying here,”  Joey states using his sleeve to dry his tears.

“Mr. Drew I-“

“I’m the captain, I must stay aboard my ship even while it sinks. And anyhow I’d just slow you three down,” he whispers the last part looking at his wheelchair with disdain.

“We’re not leaving you!” Tom snarls slamming his hand on the desk but Joey doesn’t flinch.

“Your not leaving me. I simply am just refusing to come with,” She might know little but one thing Alison knew about Joey Drew that he was stubborn. More stubborn than Tom.

Sammy didn’t yell when Henry awoke nor when he started squirming in his rope. Sammy simply left him- what could a tied up man do- to find a phone of any kind. He has this feeling that Drew didn’t call anyone or maybe that was just dread that he could be dead.

Sammy gulps telling his mind to knock off with the overdramatic dark thinking;he’s getting sick of that mindset.

Then he hears footsteps behind him spinning around quickly Henry stands behind raising the bloody axe.

“No! Henry! I’m your friend! Henry, I’m your friend! Stay back-“ he feels the axe slice mercilessly through his side. Blood pours out of the fresh wound along with an agonized screech. Sammy raises a fist but it doesn’t reach Henry before another swing of his axe. This time he stifled a scream as his fist connects with Henry’s nose. A crack noise emerges but either the ex-animator didn’t notice or didn’t care for he continued the butchering. After the fourth strike Sammy’s body buckles down falling into a pool of his own blood it stains his blond cascading hair. A last strike in the chest breaks the axe in half. Henry, satisfied with his work,leaves the music director and yet Sammy’s heart still beats. His eyes are still open, even if his vision swims, and his breath comes out in strained heaves. But he still lived and he stays conscious.

So with the bit of energy he still has, Sammy hoists himself to his arms and begins to crawl leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

 Wally doesn’t mean to get spooked nor does he mean to leave Thomas and Alison but when he heard the dropping of a board he spirits away. He hears Tom yelling after him but his own instincts kick in. After realizing that they didn’t follow him when he ran away from a nothing threat more tears peak at his eyes. Did he really just leave them? Were they killed like everyone else or spared like him?

Why was he spared in the first place? The unanswerable question lingered in his mind along with the thought that Tom and Alison were dead.

His thoughts are a horrible muddled mess so he doesn’t notice when he kicks a nearby can of the old stock of bacon soup (it didn’t sell well but Joey decided it took up to much space in the warehouses so he gave it to any employee that wanted some. Since cans of it were still abundant and it’d been more than a year since he passed them out Wally deduces that they didn’t sell well for a good reason) but he does notice the voice that slices the air like a knife through butter.

“Boris,” Henry Stein gives a wide grin.

[soniccrazygal]

Linda

AN: Happy Moter's Day everyone!

Linda could be described in many ways. A kind woman who loved to bake. A gardener that loves to have a yard full of flowers. A loving wife with a good husband and a nice home. Some who could be incredibly stubborn with a fiery temper whenever pushed the wrong way. But for Linda herself, she always first and foremost considered herself a mother. Even though her children were all grown and a few even had families of her own, Linda still did her best to look out for them and make sure they're doing well.

Then Henry returned with a new batch of children. They weren't children in the traditional sense, a bunch of toons created through dark magic and they had a lot of issues after all they had been through. They were cautious around Linda, a combination of not wanting to accidentally hurt her and not trusting her because of how much pain humans had caused them. But she was determined to love and care for them, helping them find happiness in their new start.

Boris was the easiest to win over. All Linda had to do was feed him and he was happy to trust her. He also enjoyed laying his head on her lap so she could scratch his ears while she was reading on the couch. The Butcher Gang were also fairly easy to form attachments with her. They needed a purpose to help them adjust and Linda was able to provide that purpose. Not even her own children had been as helpful in doing chores as those three were. Linda was so happy when she was surrounded by the three of them teaching them the wonders and beauty of the outside world. Alice was a little trickier as the angel was pushing everyone away at first. But as Bendy and Boris were able to reach out to her toon side, Linda was able to reach her feminine side. Linda and Alice ended up having a lot of girl talks as Linda would brush and style Alice's hair.

Now Bendy was a hard nut to crack. While the little devil cared deeply for everyone else and did his best to help the others, it was obvious he was keeping most of his own issues to himself. Even after all this time, Bendy still took a while before informing everyone what he was going through. Henry said it was because the toon had been rejected so much that he was afraid of opening up in case he accidentally says something that leads to him being rejected again. It broke Linda's heart to see how much the little devil carried around.

And now with this latest incident, revealing in full the new form Bendy had been alluding to for a while. While they didn't doubt that Bendy was still the sweet toon they knew, there was still some tension after seeing him almost kill Tom. Unfortunately, the little devil picked up on this easily and was keeping his distance. Linda was determined to make sure the little devil was still loved. Carefully opening the door to room Bendy and Boris shared, Linda silently entered. Bendy was curled up on his bed, absentmindedly stroking Ink Blot.

"I'm fine Henry…" Bendy mumbled without looking.

"I'm not Henry," Linda replied softly, sitting on the bed near him. She gently laid her hand on his back, ignoring the way he tensed briefly under her touch, and rubbed him as he slowly started to relax. "He's not the only one who cares about you, you know…"

"… I know…" Bendy whispered, though he still hadn't moved from his position. "But it's better if I don't get near the others…"

"Bendy…" Linda sighed, scooping the toon up into her lap, making the little devil whistle in surprise. Linda held him close and started rocking gently as she talked to him. "You have got to stop seeing yourself as a monster… We've all been over this with you already…"

"But I'm dangerous…" the toon protested, weakly trying to escape.

"We're all dangerous," Linda scoffed, holding him closer and resting her chin on his head. "I think what Joey did to you all in the studio demonstrates pretty clearly that humans are capable of doing terrible things to others and each other. But just we have the ability to hurt each other doesn't mean we will. It's the same with you. Just because you have the ability to hurt someone, doesn't mean you will…"

"But I almost did…"

"So what! The point is you didn't. You're still learning about these new abilities so mistakes are bound to happen, but even there, you were still willing to listen to Henry. If you were a monster, you would have just gone through with the kill no matter what Henry said. We all see you for the toon you are, you just need to see that as well…"

Bendy didn't respond but he did clutch onto Linda. Linda just kept rubbing the toon and started humming softly. She knew it would be a while before Bendy would ever be completely well and it would not be an easy road. But Linda was going to be with him and the others every step of the way.

After all, no one ever said being a mother would be easy.

[bendywackyadventures]

Edgar and Grant Chap.1

Well a fanfic to get away from the angst war. I’m still competing in it, I just thought of working on something wholesome! So my friend @chibicharmie came up with this spin-off head canon where Edgar from the Butcher Gang came to life and bonded with Grant! This is something wholesome and sweet! 

Enjoy!

AU: @ask-joeydrewstudios

Bendy opened the door checking if the coast is clear. "Okay. I think were good." He said closing the door. Alice and Boris turned around as they laid the items around in a circle.

Since Joey never planned on bringing the Butcher Gang to life due to their history in the cartoons. Bendy had a plan of bringing one of them to their world as a way of showing Joey they can adapt to the real world. Bendy had to do this quick before Joey comes in.

"Bendy are you sure we should be doing this?" Alice asked. She and Boris were putting the items on the summoning circle.

Bendy nodded. "It will be fine. I promise." Alice rolled her eyes. "Alright." She replied. Bendy silently cheered. Bendy went through the pages of the book looking for the page on how to start rituals. Page after page he finally found the page Joey used to summon them. "Found it!"

"Okay let's stay back." Alice mentioned as she and Boris stepped back.

Bendy chanted the spell from the book as the stuff started to light up. Once it did, Bendy took a sewing needle and pricked his finger allowing ink to go through. Bendy chanted a few more words, as the light got brighter blinding everyone in the room.

"I do hope this works!" Boris yelled.

"I do hope Bendy know what he's doing!" Alice yelled.

The light then ended with a flash throwing the toons off their feet. The toons rubbed their eyes and saw a spider toon come from the circle. Bendy recognized the silhouette, it was Edgar. Bendy did it he finally brought someone from the Butcher Gang to life. The spider started to walk closer to the toons, Bendy was smiling, but Boris and Alice huddled each other in fear wondering what Edgar was going to do with them.

Once Edgar was close he just smiled at the toons. The toons were confused seeing Edgar smiling at them, and not saying a word. The toons looked each other motioning the other on who would talk to Edgar first. "Who's going to speak to him first?" Alice whispered. "Boris?"

Boris shook his head and looked at his sister. "Alice?"

Alice's eyes widen. "What! No!" She whispered. Alice and Boris looked at Bendy. Before any of them could respond Bendy groaned.

"I'll talk to him." Bendy walked up to Edgar and cleared his throat. "Hello Edgar."

Edgar squeaked holding his hand out. The toons were in surprise that Edgar didn't talk, he just squeaked like a squeaky toy. "Aww." Alice awed hearing Edgar's voice. Alice walked up to Edgar and shook his head. "Nice to meet you Edgar!"

Boris rubbed his head and looked at Bendy. "Bendy did you do something to Edgar?" He asked. Bendy shook his head. He went over to Joey's book and read through the spell if he did anything wrong.

"I don't know what I did wrong! I followed the spell like how Joey did it." Bendy mentioned. He looked through the book, leaving the spider toon unattended. Edgar looked around and smiled seeing the door open and walking out. Bendy flipped through the pages and found nothing about why Edgar went wrong. "Well I found nothing! But on the bright side we got a new friend to play with us!" Bendy's eyes widen seeing that Edgar is gone. "Um where's Edgar?" Bendy asked.

"Bendy!" Sammy yelled.

"Boris!" Thomas yelled.

"Alice!" Lacie yelled.

"You three come here now!" They yelled at the same time.

"I think they found him." Alice mentioned.

The other workers stood in shock seeing the newest edition toon at the studio. Sammy, Thomas and Lacie just glared seeing another toon walking around the studio. "Guys meet Edgar!" Bendy introduced hugging the toon spider. The spider squeaked saying hi.

"Aww." Susie awed seeing the cute spider.

"Y-You. B-Brought to life a Bu-bu-Butcher Gang. Oh." Wally groaned passing out.

Norman turned around and saw Joey smiling like an idiot. "Guys look at Mister Drew." Sammy, Susie and Lacie turned around and faced Joey who is smiling proudly that his ink children are studying summoning and rituals like him.

"Why are you happy about this?" Sammy asked.

"Why? Can't I be happy for my kids!" Joey replied.

The toons smiled seeing Joey wasn't upset. Bendy grabbed the book and handed it over to Joey. "You see I feel like I did something wrong with the spell, but I don't know what it was?" He explained.

Joey kneeled down to the toons height and took the book from Bendy. He looked at the cover and nodded. "I could look through it for you and see what you missed." Bendy smiled hearing his father will help out his problem.

"Mister Drew? Question. Um why can't you scold you kids for summoning another toon! In this studio!" Lacie yelled.

Joey chuckled patting Lacie on the head. "Lacie. Lacie. I don't think this is bad, after all," he nervously smiled. "It's not like the worst thing I've done."

Everyone's eyes widen hearing Joey has done something worse then bring the toons to life. "What was the worst thing you ever done?" Everyone asked. Joey chuckled nervous and went to his office dragging the toons along with him.

Thomas groaned in stress. "Well I guess we got another run to worry about." Pointing at Edgar who is being petted by Susie.

"Oh come on guys, he's adorable." Susie pointed out.

Sammy grabbed his girlfriend's hand. "Susie, you don't know where it is been!" Susie growled and glared making Sammy step back. "But you can pet him if you want." He nervously squeaked.

Edgar smiled seeing the workers argue, his eyes then caught a man walking to his office. Edgar squeaked, smiled widely and his eyes sparkled. Edgar followed the man to his office.

Wally's eye caught Edgar leaving the room and disappearing to a corner. "Um guys Edgar is gone." Wally pointed out. Everyone looked at the janitor and around the studio to where the spider had gone.

"Where can he be?" Susie asked.

"AHHH!" The studio workers recognized that scream and groaned. "I know where he is." Wally said. "Grant's office." Everyone said at the same time.

[inkwise]

Dear Joey,

I’m back. And let me say, Europe sure has a lot of rebuilding to do. It was hell, Joey, the entire thing was hell, and I don’t think I’m the same after it. Would you believe that I had to ki

I couldn’t stop thinking about the studio or the cartoons the whole time I was there. I couldn’t stop thinking about what you did and what you said. They were our cartoons, and you took all the credit and shoved me out like I was nothing.

I tried to draw them again, you know. Sometime when I was in the barracks I managed to sneak some sketches, and I tried to draw Bendy again. And I couldn’t feel the same love or joy I had before you pushed me to that breaking point. I don’t know if I ever will again. That’s what you did to me, to my own creation. I thought we were friends.

But you never cared. And I’ve realized you never did. The only thing you ever cared about was the results while everyone else was just some sort of tool to get them. I hate you for

I doubt you’ll ever write to me, and I don’t think I’ll ever send this letter once I’m done writing it. But screw it, writing this helped me focus on something, at least for the moment. Who knows? Maybe I’ll write more.

Sincerely, Henry Stuart

Dear Joey,

I don’t think it really matters to you, but you’ll be glad to know that Linda’s doing alright. She was so worried about me while I was away. She was probably right to be. Either way, she hasn’t left my side since I got back.

You know, I woke up crying a few nights ago. I had a nightmare about that young man I about the War, and Linda comforted me until I could go back to bed.

It’s a bit funny, but remembering it made me think about how I don’t think of you as the kind of man who would marry. But maybe that’s changed during the War, too. Has anything else? Have you changed at all? Has the studio, Sammy, Thomas, Susan, anyone?

Maybe I’ll drop by sometime to see for myself. And maybe I’ll fulfill my promise to you and take those creative rights back. Who the hell knows?

Sincerely, Henry Stuart

Dear Joey,

I couldn’t follow through with it. I couldn’t come back to the studio. And I think I know why, and I’m ashamed of it.

I think I’m scared to. I’m scared that things won’t go back to the way they were, back when it was just the two of us and a dream. I’m scared that they will and I’ll be forced into a corner by you again. I’m scared that even if I get the rights back, I won’t be able to draw any of the characters ever again. I’m scared that if I ever lift a pencil, I won’t have the motivation to make anything new. And above all, I think I’m scared of you. Isn’t that crazy?

You never wrote anything to me, before or after I got back, and I doubt you even had a thought about me since I left. It’s been over three years, and I’m starting to think you never will. But then again, I can’t bring myself to send any of these letters. I wonder if that even matters.

Either way, I don’t think I can bring myself to drive across the state. Especially not while Linda’s expecting.

That’s right, Linda is pregnant. We haven’t thought much about names, since it’s recent news, but we both agreed that “Edison” would be a nice name for a boy. Maybe “Jane” or “Kathleen” if it’s a girl.

It’s odd to think about that I’ll have a child to worry about soon, on top of everything else. Or maybe I’m overthinking it too much. But it’s one upside on this letter. In all honesty, I can’t wait for it.

Sincerely, Henry Stuart

Dear Joey,

We were expecting a girl and ended up with a boy. Either way, holding Edison for the first time was life changing. I wish I knew how to describe it, other than realizing that you just helped bring a new life into this world. And he was small, he couldn’t even wrap his hand around my pinkie.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Linda happier than she was when she first saw him. She was grinning ear to ear.

I wonder if you ever had a thought about having kids. Do you know what it feels like? I don’t think you would, since you never seemed to think about settling down. It was always work, work, work for you, always trying to make it to the next deadline. I think that was your problem, really. You were always so busy about the “now” you didn’t have a second thought about the future.

On another note, I’ve gotten a new job. Construction work, if you can believe it. I’ve done some freelance artwork whenever I have the time for it, but it’s really hard for me to do it now. Regardless, I have a family I have to support.

I’m still not used to the idea.

I haven’t heard much about what’s going on in the studio. Maybe one of these days I’ll actually work up the courage to send a letter to someone else. Maybe Sammy or Grant. We’ll see.

Sincerely, Henry Stuart

Dear Joey,

It’s been a while since I’ve written one of these. Eddie is growing up well, he’s healthy and has a lot of energy. And a lot of creative talent, too. It’s hard to pry those crayons from him whenever he wants to draw something.

He’s starting to watch those Bendy cartoons. I’m not sure if I can find a place that still has the old ones, but he seems to be enjoying some of the newer ones. As for me, I don’t think I can ever watch anything that has those three in them again. At least, not yet. It sounds ridiculous, but I’m kind of scared to find out what you did to them.

That’s not just it, though, isn’t it? You pushed me like I was nothing while I was still working on the show. It got to the point where trying to draw them again just makes me think about what you did to me and everyone else in that studio. But for some reason, whenever I think about them, about Bendy, Boris, and Alice, and even the Butcher Gang if you can believe it, it feels like I abandoned them. It’s a weird feeling, and it makes me sick to my stomach with guilt, but I can’t help but feel as though that’s exactly what I did.

In the meantime, though, I did actually write out to Grant. It seems that you haven’t changed at all, what with your big ideas and everything. Merchandising the bacon soup doesn’t sound like it’s working. Is it my recipe? I don’t remember ever giving it to you.

Regardless, whatever happens, I hope you learn from your mistakes and try something different. You probably won’t, knowing you.

Sincerely, Henry Stuart

Dear Joey,

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

I’m still corresponding with Grant. Apparently you’ve been up to something that’s probably going to throw the studio’s budget all out of wack again. What the hell is this “Ink Machine” project you’ve got going on? What are you planning to do with it? And why the hell do you need that much ink?

And on that note, what the hell do you think you’re doing to Bendy?

I know the Hays Code is harsh, especially while I was still there, and especially since we were dancing around the code with a demonic main character. But doing all of this? Turning his own friends against him, and shoving him in the ground when he’s already failed? Bendy has never done anything wrong to anyone. Why are you doing this to him?

Eddie said that I was getting really mad while I was watching the cartoon with him. I think I have every right to be.

One of these days, Joey, I swear I’ll come back and take those characters away from you.

Sincerely, Henry Stuart

Dear Joey,

Linda is getting sick. It doesn’t look too good. The doctors says there might be a way to help with her health, but it’s going to be difficult.

I’m scared. Eddie is scared. I don’t know what to tell him.

Dear Joey,

I can’t tell if she’s pretending that she’s alright or if she’s really doing any better, but Linda is out of the hospital for now. Either way, having some sense of normalcy is very much appreciated for the time being. I don’t think I’ll be able to come back to the studio anytime soon since I’m looking after her now.

I’ve also heard about the big news you’ve had planned. A theme park? Really? Did you get jealous of Disney or something?

Eddie is excited about it, regardless. I, however, think that there’s no way in hell it’s going to be safe by the time it opens.

Sincerely, Henry Stuart

Dear Joey,

Linda didn’t make it.

For a while, she made it seem like she was perfectly alright. I think she was trying to make it feel normal for both me and Eddie, even though she was still so sick. Maybe she didn’t want those last few days to be sad, and I can’t blame her for that. But I think it strained her health even more. I wish she would’ve told me.

One day, she seemed fine. The next, it just fell apart. I was holding her hand while she was in the hospital, and she smiled at me and said that she was going to be alright, and somehow I knew she wasn’t.

Eddie was devastated. He wouldn’t come out of his room for a long time that it got to the point where I had to leave his dinner outside his door. The only time he came out was to return the plates back to the kitchen.

I heard about what happened at the amusement park. Bendy Land. Whatever you called it. I guess that makes pretty bad news on both ends, huh?

You were always the kind to cut corners, though. I should’ve seen it coming.

I’ll be honest, Joe. I don’t think I can keep on writing these fake letters that I’m probably never going to send. I think I just need some time to help myself figure some things out and get a balance on life again.

Everything’s just been so hard lately.

Henry

Dear Joey,

It’s been years since I’ve seen these letters. I thought I lost them in the move into the city, but finding them again and rereading it makes me feel kind of nostalgic. I don’t know why. I never sent these out to you, and you never sent anything to me. I’m not sure you even have a single thought about me nowadays. So much for our friendship, huh?

I suppose I’ll fill in the gap between the last fake letter and this one. Trying to raise Eddie on my own after Linda passed was...difficult, if nothing else. But he grew up, probably better than I could’ve ever hoped. He’s gotten married and his wife is expecting, and he’s also an animator now, like his old man. I couldn’t be more proud.

But ever since he moved out, I moved closer to work, which means that I’m on my own again. I have my own apartment. It’s small, and there isn’t much in the way of furniture or comfort in general, but it’s enough for an old man like me, I suppose.

I still do freelance from time to time. It’s not as easy as it used to be, though. Whenever I try to do artwork for myself it feels uninspired and empty. And it makes me think about Bendy again and what you’re doing to him. And about how I still can’t bring myself to come back to the studio because I’m just so damn terrified of you.

I wish I could come back. But even more, I wish I could feel the same as I did back then towards these characters. I do care about them. That’s something I know for certain, because I still try to draw them. But every time I do, I just feel guilty.

But...there’s been something else on my mind. Your project. That “Ink Machine.”

Why do you need it? What’s it for? Grant’s never told me much about it, and I can’t blame him for it if it’s one of your “secret projects.” And you’ve never went public with it, either. Otherwise it’d be all over the news. But the fact that there’s never been any public statement about it just makes me equal parts curious and anxious.

What are you planning, Joey?

Henry

Dear Joey,

I heard about what happened to the studio. And I can’t believe how I felt about it.

The reports say that the studio was heading closer and closer to bankruptcy, and that there was no way that you could get out of it. And then one day, everyone inside that place just disappeared. Like they all vanished into thin air in a single night.

And I felt worried about you.

I guess, after all these years, I still care about you. You were my friend. We started the company together and had some good times. But seeing this on the news, even after all you did to me and the show and everyone else in that building, I was shocked.

What did you do?

And I can’t help but worry about our old co-workers. Their families must be worried sick, and the police can’t make heads or tails of the situation. They said it was as though everyone was in a hurry to get out, with desks and a few chairs knocked over, but there’s no sign of anyone anywhere.

Just that weird machine.

What the hell did you do?

Dear Joey,

I got your letter.

It’s been five years since you disappeared, and I got your letter.

Seeing your name and the studio’s address on the envelope almost gave me a heart attack. Everyone thinks you’re dead. Everyone thinks that everyone that was in the studio that night is dead. But if you’re not, why write to me? Why not to your family, or to the police? Can’t they help? Why do you need me, specifically?

Even as I’m rereading it now, your message just sends chills down my spine. It’s so short. It feels as though you’re pretending as though what happened between us never happened. I’m scared. I think I have every right to be.

It’s been thirty years. This is the first word you’ve ever sent to me, and it almost sounds like a cry for help.

I...think I’m going to come. I don’t know why, but I’m going to try. I have a feeling that if I do, though, I’m not going to like what I find.

I’m sorry I never sent a letter to you. Some part of me even feels sorry about what I said to you way back then.

But I swear to you, I’ll find what you wanted me to find.

And I’ll find out what happened to you.

Sincerely, Henry

[falseprotagonistsofbatim]

Headcanon Theory!!

((Alright, so. We know a few things about BATIM. One is that the Ink Machine is a behemoth of a machine, and it’s implied that when it is on, bad shit goes down. Two is that Joey Drew keeps pushing the idea of belief being able to do impossible things. These are canon things for sure. 

And then there’s my theory of Murray Hill being an actual person and instigating a lot of the horror aspects we see in the game. Not only in upgrading the Ink Machine to Mark 2, but also testing out the Ink Machine to make Norman into the Projectionist. Mainly in various Deals he’s made over the years and him trying to make Creators out of normal humans. I’ve touched on it that turning humans into Creators is the equivalent of giving someone a traumatic brain injury and a stroke all at once before giving them physical power to do what they want. 

And I’ve written that Joey had to give up his eyes and both hands in order for the upgrade to stick. Both were things vital to his ability to create cartoons. 

So. The main question is this. 

How does the Ink Machine connect in making humans into Creators?

There’s plenty in theories that Joey dabbled in black magic and asked the gods to do so. I’m asking to go the other way. I’m saying that Murray Hill took Joey’s sacrifice and used the fact he wholeheartedly believed that he could make his Creations real if he did so. 

Because the Ink Machine Mark 2 requires the belief of Joey to work. As more bodies and people were sacrificed in the machine, their beliefs were added to the machine.

So, when it was just Joey, he was given the wrong information that sacrificing more and more to the Ink Machine would bring his cartoons to life. He believed that so whole-heartedly that it did just that. It’s why Bendy, Boris, and Alice lasted like they did. At some point, he probably believed black magic was how it was possible. So his belief made it real, and the effects of black magic real.

Wally, when he was sacrificed, didn’t know what was going on. But he became the first Searcher/Lost One regardless. His memory was spotty at best when he was like this, but the few times he was lucid, he completely and totally believed he was in Hell. Which was probably a HUGE reason the studio became so dark and decrepit and scary like it is. 

As more people were sacrificed, they believed they were the product of a random killing. So they became lost souls because that’s all they were. 

Susie was also given the wrong information and thought that her belief to become Alice would be enough. She wanted it so badly and she thought that killing the Butcher Gang over and over again would give her the answer on how to be the perfect version of Alice. 

Sammy got tainted by the ink, and believed he was alive by the fact Bendy was his Savior. So he did what he could to do what Bendy wanted, because he believed that doing so would save everyone in the studio. All he needed to do was believe his Savior was a demon.

But again. As more were sacrificed to the machine, more beliefs twisted it around. Most of the people were killed or sacrificed in horrific ways, and those final moments shaped the studio in the horror we see in the official game. 

Because, at the end of it, Creators may have the physical ability to make their Creations real. But they still need that drive and belief to make them truly real and physical.

I mean... Joey says it himself. “Belief can make you succeed. Belief can make you rich. Belief can make you powerful. Why with enough belief, you can even cheat death itself.” It was probably the reason Murray Hill thought that his man would be a perfect start to being a Creator. He certainly had the vision and the belief to do just that. He just needed the ability of a normal Creator in his eyes.

And while we don’t know much on how Chapter 5 is going to be, I’m betting that Henry’s belief and influence is going to be main factor on how it’s going to end.))

[taddle]

Wally/Bendy Theory Analyzed

Okay, in the very not popular opinion of Wally being Bendy, I offer my two cents: its possible and I'm okay with. 

About the Ink Demon

 First off, what do we really know about the Ink Demon? NOT MUCH! But I'll try to outline some important points:

 1. We know he has a thing for Henry, chasing after him every chance he gets.

2. He has a very specific disability in his legs. Wouldn't have been much to note, though after the remaster and model change, its a bit more evident.

3. He is a tier above the creatures and characters that exist in his world due to his ink powers. He can exert an influence that is palpable to everything around him, in some cases even damaging/destroying them (The Butcher Gang copies and "Alice" for instance).

 Point one is hard to discuss, since "Bendy" has no lines and no specific goal which we the players can discern, only from "Alice"s dialog that he WILL go after you if he finds you, pointing out that its not just specifically Henry that should fear him. Therefore, we cannot tell with what intent "Bendy" has when he does chase us.

 Point two is only a subject of discussion due to the 'wheelchair vision' that we get at the end of Chapter one. The three (Wheelchair, Ink Machine, and "Bendy") are obviously tied together somehow, yet until now we don't actually have any clue to whom the wheelchair could have belonged to, only that whoever had need of it could have possibly been transformed into "Bendy" by the Ink Machine somehow, in the same way how a lot of the more prominent creatures apparently are former employees ("Alice"/Susie basically outlining it with her knowledge about the studio and the people in it). Also a necessity to point out is how difficult a disabled person would have navigating a studio that wasn't exactly built to be very disability-friendly (and correct me if I'm wrong, but I'd assume the 1930s is still in the time where a lot of prejudices still exist, especially for people who are seen as disabled, making it very hard to believe that Joey Drew would be hiring any of the sort UNLESS he was that incredibly cheap and would have done so to get out of properly compensating them).

 Point three...have to question why. Why would "Bendy" have these powers? What is his purpose roaming the halls terrorizing everything in sight and, more recently, collecting the bodies of creatures? It would make sense to think, in the context of being Joey Drew, to be his superpowered inksona and his brazenly going around with everyone fearing him, though it doesn't make sense that he would be chasing Henry around after going through the trouble of inviting him back here with the purpose of killing him...assuming killing him is what happens. Moreover, it REALLY doesn't make sense that for someone who takes the position of mastermind of the whole operation, from the construction of the Ink Machine, to the entire facility, to his influence encompassing a number of manufactured products (and a theme park to boot)...to be relegated to some misshapen monster, forever damned to wander the halls of a rotten studio. Being able to live eternal with cool powers to boot, yes...but is that really all he wanted, IF he could have done so much more?

 About the Death Sequences

 Let's take a clue on a non-canonical end that happens every time you're 'killed'- the remastered chapter 4, as confirmed by Mike and Meatly, is the final version of how they've always wanted the game to turn out. Therefore, the 'death sequence' that was recently added is assumed to always have been what was intended to happen. You find yourself in a tunnel of ink with a light at the end, ominous whispering surrounding you as you climb your way out.

 The implications of this sequence is you essentially experiencing what "Alice" explains to you in Chapter 3- about living in the dark puddles, which are 'a buzzing, screaming well of voices' with 'bits of your mind swimming like fish in a bowl'. People have taken the audio from this odd sequence and have found out to be distorted versions of almost every piece of dialog from Henry in Chapter one, reversed (bits of your mind). Let's combine this with what else we know about it from "Alice"s experience - that it is possible to be 'born' from them...and more than once. Of course, you can't be 'born again' if you were already born once- as in, she had to have relinquished her first form somehow in order to have taken the form she currently appears as. Applying all of this to what Henry experiences, this is meaning that every time he 'dies', he is being reborn from the ink. This ties in with what MatPat says about the 'cycle of reincarnation' that exists in the studio- nothing there can ever truly 'die', simply having its consciousness 'reprocessed' by the Ink Machine to exist again in one form or another (another way of seeing it is you climbing through the pipes towards the spout of the Ink Machine to be spat out again).

 This can explain the views of The Cult/ Sammy's belief in Bendy being the savior and his intense desire of 'being set free' from 'the dark inky abyss he calls a body'. If 30 years worth of living a non-existence in a rotting studio isn't enough to compel a man to desire death, wouldn't had he have jumped on that option when the opportunity presents itself...unless it was never an option to begin with (further pointed out by one of the Lost Ones repeatedly trying to brain itself in a room you find exploring the vent in Chapter 4). And we can all conclude Mr. Joey 'with enough belief, you can even cheat death itself!' Drew was responsible for this odd quirk everyone is apparently condemned to.

 So with that knowledge, to what end does "Bendy" have to chase and kill everything that moves, knowing that it would do little more than delay the inevitable of them returning again anyways?

 About Wally Franks

 So let's consider what we do know about Wally Franks. From what we glean from his audio logs, he appears to be a janitor of some sort, responsible for cleaning up the studio. Of course, the term 'janitor' implies that Wally was no one important, and the general consensus was to relegate him as the funny side character that just happens to be...there. But then let's actually scrutinize Wally with a bit more consideration as someone very integral to the story as a whole:

 1. Wally is everywhere. From Chapter 1 to Chapter 4, Wally's audio logs can be found throughout the story, wherever new area Henry manages to find himself. Understandable, if he is the janitor of the company and is responsible for its maintenance in its entirety. The takeaway here is that Wally knows every place of the studio, from the sweatshop on top to the massive storage way down below that holds the abandoned Bendy Land project.

 2. Wally is more than just a janitor, as far as his dealings in the studio is concerned. As early as Chapter 2, we have a blueprint of the Ink Machine citing Wally as an attendant, and as late as the remastered Chapter 3 expanding on that point with Thomas, the only qualified technician to work with the machine and its finicky ink pipes (notice how ink pressure was always a subject of concern in most of his logs) teaching Wally the importance of regulating it.

 3. Wally is aware of everything that is happening in the studio. All his logs point out what is happening in general, from Joey's odd work practices to how it affects his co-workers, to him being as far as Storage 9 to deal with the worker's shenanigans down there. While everyone else's experience in the logs is far more limited to their jobs/duties, Wally has a more encompassing/generalized view of the whole picture, making him representative of the studio populace.

 Point one is significant in that it makes Wally have almost a sort of omnipresence in the studio, knowing where everything is. Let's compare it to Henry's knowledge of it, where as far as his reactions to new areas is concerned, has always been limited to the little animation studio on top. Besides the "knocked down a wall or two" comment he made of the new area behind his work desk, he apparently didn't know there was an area for the music department ("How did this place get so big?"), and definitely didn't know there was a toy shop even further down ("Wow. I don't remember any of this."), suggesting that Henry left pretty early at this point in the company for him to lack what seemed to be pretty common knowledge about the manufacturing side of the business. Bertrum's tape in Chapter 4 even suggests that Bendy Land was public knowledge (being introduced as 'Bertie' to high-level investors and wall street tycoons). So while one could argue that animators were limited to the top, and people of other specializations where regulated to their own areas further down, what is pretty clear is that Wally Franks is familiar with all of them.

 Point two importance goes hand in hand with the importance of the Ink Machine. Let's presume that the Ink Machine is the cornerstone of the current state of the studio, the thing that makes everything work, the thing that Joey invested a good chunk of his capital and  'belief' on...why of all people would he entrust a nobody like Wally Franks to attend to it, especially when we're given to know that he can be a bit airheaded (from losing his keys to Sammy in his Hot Topic Q and A mentioning that he can't 'keep things in order', to Thomas trying to teach him something as simple as flipping a safety switch). We can make an assumption that it might be Thomas' idea, seeing as he's made his feelings very clear on his continued employment ("I won't be doing any more repair jobs for Mister Joey Drew"), and of the cast of people we know that has worked here, Wally seems to be the best capable person to act as attendant given his position in dealing with the more practical duties around the studio. Regardless of how that happened, the new Chapter 3 audio log confirms that Wally does have at least some knowledge on how to regulate it. God forbid there ever comes a time where life and death is decided on whether Wally can remember if he needed to tighten a bolt or flip a switch.

 Point three sort of adds point one's position of omnipotence, where Wally is aware of everything that's going on. Aware of Joey Drew's odd behavior and requests, aware of how people are reacting to it, aware of the projects that are going on, aware of the state the studio is falling in. Compared to everyone else, Wally can be seen as the most important character in terms of knowing everything that's going on in the studio, second only to Joey Drew himself.

 Conclusion

 What does this all amount to in the end? We lack the solid evidence that can definitively link "Bendy" to anyone. However, we can make a hypothetical scenario where Wally is "Bendy" and how it could work, given what Wally is and knows- being an attendant, knowing the entirety of the studio, the people that work there, the workings of the Ink Machine itself. Rather than being the Big Bad, the ultimate evil you will eventually have to face at the end of the story, I see "Bendy" more as being a 'regulator' of sorts, wandering the halls and finding anything he sees and forcing them back into the ink, perhaps, as MatPat suggested, with the purpose of outputting a character that would end the cycle of deathless torment, like a Perfect Bendy. Again, this would go back to The Cult's/Sammy's belief that his actions will eventually 'set them free', although its still up in the air how a Perfect Bendy would be able to actually solve everyone's problems.

 And if that was the case, where is Joey Drew in all of this? (Very possibly) At the bottom of the abyss, where the Ink Machine is leading you, waiting to show you the thing.

[pooka-dragon]

Flashing Lights

Okay, it’s been awhile since I’ve wrote a fanfic and it was high time that I wrote one ever since chapter 3 came out for Bendy and the Ink Machine. This one will involve a certain character in the game and this is based on @shinyzango 2D Bendy AU based from this and this 

so Here we go! 

Henry looks at the button that leads to the elevator before pressing the button that went to the lower levels, the basement of the studio. He looks over at Boris, who nods at Henry. 

Henry nods back. “Let’s finished this, guys.” He said, earning another enthusiastic from the wolf toon. Bendy also nods from his page as they got to the lower level. 

Henry winced at the mere sight. 

Ink. 

Lot’s of ink that it flooded the floor that look like a knee deep. Bendy saw the sight and gulped. “Th-This is bad, Henry...” 

“I know, bud...” Henry whispered, thinking that Alice is still listening to them. Bendy kept quiet most of the time when Alice spoke, but it seemed that she didn’t noticed him at all after she was done speaking with them. 

As Henry looks at the inked area before trying to make his way down before he froze at the sight. Something was flashing the lights fast, making him hard for him. 

That’s when he saw it

A disfigured form he saw earlier, having the head of a projector. It hissed, the flashing light lens glancing around before disappearing into the same room it came out of. 

“Shhhh...there he is. The projectionist. Skulking in the darkness.” Alice’s voice rang through the speakers of the studio. Boris was quivering in fear, hiding behind Henry with his hands on his shoulders, his ears flat against his head. 

“Be sure to stay out of his light, if you don’t want trouble. Just bring me the pieces I need.” That’s when they heard her chuckle before they didn’t hear her voice anymore. 

Boris and Bendy were trembling in fear of what Alice was doing to them and to Henry. Henry had his eyes narrowed before taking a deep breath. He sets down the pipe before using his thumb to stroke the top of Bendy’s head and his other hand to pat Boris’s head. 

“Look you two...I know you’re scared...but the sooner we get this done, the better and the quicker we can get the hell out of here.” He said. Bendy looks at him and nods. 

Boris nods as well, leaning into his touch, a soft smile on his face. “Boris...I want you to stay up here just in case something goes wrong, okay?” Henry asked. Boris looks at him before he nods. 

“That’s a good boy.” He smiled, ruffling the top of his head before picking up the pipe and descends down the stairs. “...as long as we don’t be in his sight....we should be good...” 

Bendy nods, looking at the flashing lights of the projectionist. Henry took a careful step into the ink pool. Each movement he made was a splashing sound, making such a ruckus that Henry would think that the dark figure might have more sense than just sight. 

That’s when he saw another tape cassette player. “...another one?” Henry asked, looking at the audio player before looking at Bendy. “...if you want to hear who it is, Henry, go on ahead. I ain’t stoppin’ ya.” Bendy smiled up at him. Henry smiled back before playing the audio. 

“Now I’m not lookin’ for trouble. It’s just the nature of us projectionists to seek out the dark places.” The audio starts. Henry recognized him as Norman Polk. He remember seeing him every once in awhile when he worked at the studio. He was the main projectionist that helped out when the projectors go out and in need in repair. 

“You see, I’ve learned the ins and outs of this here studio. I know how to avoid being bothered by the likes of this...company.” 

Henry didn’t like where this was going. 

“That projectionist, they alway says, creeping around, he’s just lookin’ for trouble. Well, trouble or not, I sees everything. They don’t even know when I’m watchin’....” That’s when it gone silent. 

“...even when I’m right behind ‘em.” 

Henry froze at the mere sight, then looks at the hall, seeing the projectionist walking around a corner, hissing loudly. The projectionist...the one that lurks down here....

...was Norman. 

“...Norman....what did they do to you....” Henry asked softly, his heart beating at a rational rate from pain, hatred and other emotions. Bendy looks up at him, feeling his emotions at a fast rate that it was making his head hurt as well. 

“Henry! Henry!” He could see that nothing was going through Henry as he had a hand clenching to his head, breathing fast and heavily. This is what was happening to all of the workers in the studio.

They were turning into...these....experiments for Joey or whoever was doing this to everyone and it was messed up. How did it all come to this--

Henry froze when he felt something squeeze his fingers. He gasped before looking at the source to see Bendy. He was squeezing his fingers the best he could on the paper he stood on. 

“Henry, you need to calm down...I know you’re upset...but this is not helping the situation we are in...you need to focus...” Bendy said, looking up at him with a determined look. Henry could only stare down at him before taking a deep breath and nods. 

“Yeah....yeah, you’re right...” He said. Bendy smiled sadly, squeezing his finger gently with his hand before letting go. The old animator took a deep breath before he started to walk again. 

The projectionist went around the corner when Henry entered the maze hallway. “...she said she needs five ink hearts...any clue on what they look like?” Henry asked, looking down at the paper. Bendy looks at him and shrug. 

“Ya got me, Henry. I am just as confused as you are.” Bendy said, looking at him. He sighs deeply before he starts to wonder through the hallway. That’s when he noticed a cut out board of the member of the butcher gang.

Then a small ink blob was on the chest of the butcher gang. “...that must be it....” He grabs it gently, which it form onto Henry’s sleeve. “...well...one down...four more to go. Let’s try to avoid...Norman....and see if we can find them all. I’m sure they’re not too hard to find.” 

Bendy only nods in response. 

As they journey through the maze hallway, finding one ink heart after another, they did their very best to avoid Norman. They nearly had a close call every now and then, but they stayed out of his sight. But he did wonder why would someone do this to Norman. He was the nicest guy in the Studio aside from Wally before he quit. 

Henry finds the last ink heart before he heard Alice once more. “Tell me...were they writhing in your hands? Bring them to me now! I don’t like to wait.” Henry narrowed his eyes. 

He really didn’t like where this is all going. As he made his way, he froze when a flashing light flashed behind him. That’s when a screeching sound and the sound of ink splashing behind him. 

Norman saw them. 

“Shit!” Henry ran when he saw Norman chasing them, a screeching sound being heard as the clawed hands try to reach out to Henry. The flashing from the projector was making it difficult for Henry to focus on where he was going. But he knows that he was getting closer and closer to him by the second. 

Bendy was also panicking. It was gonna hurt Henry. “Henry! The ink!” He yelled out, making Henry look down at him and nods. He drops the ink in the ink pool when they got to the main room, Boris waiting for them anxiously. 

As Bendy sinks into the ink pool, he tries to focus on his form, but he was panicking. That projectionist was gonna hurt Henry. Henry kept focusing on staying alive as he avoids swings from the projectionist. 

It screeches loudly, using the flashing lights of the projector to blind Henry. He winced and used his arms to protect his eyes from the flashing lights. The projectionist screeches and reeled it’s arm back--

Something grabbed him. 

It screeched out, trying to slash at the source that was holding it hostage before it was revealed as a giant hand clenching around him. The ink around them was bubbling rapidly. Two points showed from the ink pool before it revealed two large horns and they were curved in a rather unique way. 

He knows that form. 

Henry ran up to the stairs to take shelter when the ink starts to get unstable and making rather large waves. Boris hid behind Henry when he came up to where the elevator was. 

A very large form comes out from the ink pool, the projectionist still screeching and scratching at the source that was holding it hostage before turning it’s projector head around to see the source. 

The light flashed rapidly as it saw a small glow in the source’s eye, a large fanged grin that had two large fangs sticking out in place of the smile. The growls were so deep that it rumbled the entire room, one large hand slamming against the ground.

Henry knew that this was Bendy’s form from his dreams whenever he was unconscious or sleeping. But this was the first time he formed this outside of the dream state. 

The projectionist lets out a screech, which Bendy roared loudly back at it, making Norman go silent. Bendy was about to strike him down once and for all, but his form starts to shake. 

“Bendy?” Henry asked, seeing him froze. What was happening. Bendy lets out a roar that sounded like he was in pain, ink starting to form out of his mouth and eyes, the form starting to melt more and more. He lets out a gurgle roar as he starts to sink down into the ink pool. 

As Bendy’s form melts, the hand that held Norman hostage lets him go, making him fall into the ink pool until Bendy’s form was completely gone. Norman shook it’s projector head before glancing at a piece of paper that floated. It sounded like someone was coughing. 

It was that monster. 

The projector hissed and lets out a screech, raising it’s claws up to end the creature that made a mockery at him--

Something hits him on the back of the head, making it screech in pain. Henry kept whacking Norman when it fell over in the ink. Norman kept screeching at the pain it was getting before all went silent. 

Henry was gasping heavily, holding the pipe in both of his hands as he looks down at Norman. He no longer moved, the body slowly disappearing before leaving the projector behind. 

Henry didn’t take his eyes off of it. 

“...I’m...I’m so sorry...Norman...” Henry couldn’t believe what he had just done. He knew that Norman, the old projectionist that he knew in that studio was long gone...but it hurt so much to do this to him. 

Henry fell to his knees, his hands covering his eyes as he dropped the pipe into the ink. “I’m sorry...so sorry...” His voice cracked, his body completely shaking at what he had to do. 

He felt arms around him, knowing who it was from and just leaned into the gesture, his body still shaking. Boris looks down at Henry, his ears flat against his head because he knew that something hurt Henry badly on the inside. 

“...I had no choice, Boris...I...I didn’t want to leave him like that....Norman didn’t deserve what happened to him....but why do I feel so guilty?” Henry asked, his eyes clenched shut. 

Boris gave him a squeeze before helping him off from the ground. When he looks at the wolf toon, all he could do was smile sadly at him and squeezed Henry’s shoulder. Henry looks at him before smiling sadly. 

“...thanks, Boris....”

Henry looks over and saw the paper floating towards him and tensed. “...Bendy?” Henry picked the paper up. Boris seemed worried as he looks down at Bendy with concern. 

Most of the page was covered in ink, Bendy having his knees up to his chest, a hand covering his mouth while shaking rapidly. He had a panicked look on his face while trying to get his breathing under control, but it was getting harder and harder each time. 

“...H-Henry...I-I...I don’t know what happened....I-I was scared and--” Bendy clenched his eyes shut, hugging his knees. “...take your time to explain, bud....” Henry said softly, trying not to spook him more as it is. Even Boris nodded at what Henry said. 

“..I...I wanted to protect you...but...but I absorbed too much ink....I...I was in a form that I couldn’t handle...I had too much ink that I couldn’t hold it all in....I couldn’t breathe! I was panicking and I didn’t know what to do! It hurt so much that I couldn’t control it....it hurt so much....” Bendy sniffed. 

Henry didn’t say anything until he placed a finger on the top of his head, slowly stroking him. Bendy just clenched to his finger, starting to sob at what happened. “.....I guess we went through a lot at this moment....” Henry said. 

Boris looks at them before hugging Henry once more. Henry smiled a bit, wrapping one arm around the wolf toon while the other hand was stroking Bendy with his thumb. 

“...come on guys...let’s turn this in to Alice and get out of here as fast as possible...I’ll place you on a new page when we get up to a floor, okay, Bendy?” Henry asked. 

Bendy didn’t say anything but just nodded, hugging his knees close. Henry sighs before him and Boris travel to the elevator. Henry could see the projector on that once belong to Norman before it turned off slowly, slowly sinking into the ink pool. 

Henry stared at the sight sadly. “...I’m sorry, Norman....but at least...you can rest in peace...I’ll fix what happened to this place  and stop the source of whatever happened to you all...I promise...” Henry said, the ink pool room slowly disappearing from the sight as they journey up. 

He was gonna have a few words with Joey if he ever find him in the hell studio and it was not gonna be a pretty sight. 

Welp, there you guys go. I’m a bit off of edge because it has been a moment or so since I’ve last written a fanfic. But I am glad that I’m back on track and writing once again. 

More things to come. 

Until then, 

Pooka-Dragon

[ask-joeydrewstudios]

In This Tunnel, There is but One Light (Part One)

[submitted by @omsrandom]

“I’m sorry…”

The world tuned out, the edges of his vision blurring and ears ringing as the doctor continued to talk. Two words, said in a tone filled with dread, it made him want to sit down and weep. He wanted to cry, because even though they had spent so long together, it felt like no time at all. He didn’t know what went wrong. It just seemed like a normal day…

The first had been Norman, who passed in his sleep. It had been coming for some time, after all. Ever since the Toons came to life, the elder had started to lag. He made fun of it, but they could all see it in his eyes.

The weeks following the news were somber, yes, but since it had been expected, not much had changed. Sometimes, when he passed the orchestra room, Henry could hear the man’s laugh, or orders to play a certain note. Sammy sometimes went to go argue with the new conductor, starting off with a yell of the old man’s name before stopping, a look of grief passing over his features before returning under his mask. Joey and Susie found that the music didn’t sing just quite as well as when Norman did it. The toons, perhaps, were hit worse.

There had been others leaving, if for children or weddings or other jobs, but never once for death. Alice had found a type of kinship with him, and often could be found holding his hat, which he had placed on her halo the day of his retirement party. Bendy and Boris, of course, were with her during this duration of grief.

Thomas went next due to smoking; lung cancer. It had been too late to tell, too late to properly prepare. It comes as a low blow, because everyone became very aware of the cigarette in Sammy’s mouth as they all stared at their former co-worker’s nurse. As before, grief settled across the studio, and as before, the Toons were the ones to suffer the most.

Joey went in front of all of them. Boris, Alice, Bendy, Henry, Dianne, Sammy, Susie, Wally. The Original gang, minus Norman. Each, he told them something; something that on any other day, would’ve lightened their hearts. Bendy was told that Joey was forever proud that his ‘first born’ had found a way to enjoy life, even in this type of imprisonment. Boris was told that no matter what, he was forever loved and always the best wolf-ink-son he could’ve asked for. Alice was his darling girl, a true angel amidst demonic rituals. It went this way through the humans, all the way up to Henry. “Take care of them,” Joey whispered. “Or I’ll haunt your…” he trailed off.

“Aw, c-c’mon,” Bendy sniffed, head curling into his Creator’s side. “A-A word wou-wouldn’t h-hurt.”

“Hush, Bendy,” Joey murmured. “You’re the owner, Henry. Please… Keep us…” he was gone before ‘going’ could pass his lips. Bendy wouldn’t let them near the body for a day, to which it took Alice, Boris and a group of ‘seekers’ to remove him from the room.

And for once, since the opening day, Joey Drew Studio fell silent. Silent it stayed for three weeks, the workers in too much shock to raise their voice beyond a whisper, which often sent the Toons into a fit. Wally, for all that he complained, couldn’t find it in him when he found the poor demon curled in a puddle, shaking uncontrollably as he rocked back and forth. Sammy, for all that he bitched, found that the little shit wasn’t actually as bad as he seems when he was in too much grief to do anything, which was… actually disheartening.

Slowly, things resumed to normal. Lives were lived, stories were made and told. Up until, of course, Death made its strike again.

Shawn, their toymaker, went of old age, leaving his wife and children behind. He had been working on an Alice Angel doll for the said Angel when he closed his eyes and just… never opened them again. Alice… well, somethings were best left unsaid.

They had more warning with Sammy, but it was still unexpected. Susie stuck with his side, all the way to the end. The twins, 22, helped all they could, but even so, some holes just couldn’t be filled. The music studio was in a dilemma. Sammy was rough around the edges, and not a generally nice guy, but everything just felt wrong when his son stepped up to the plate, looking frazzled and tired.

The studio was just… never the same.

Henry found Susie in her husband’s old office, sketches of happier times clutched in her hands. Offering his own, he knew his eyes reflected his own tears. “I’m sorry…”

This was originally supposed to be just Henry and Dianne, but you mentioned the Death List and brought this upon yourself

((this is fucking me up man oh god its just as sad every time i read it ; o ; thank you for the fic i love it and i can’t wait for the next part))

part two || part three

[omsrandom]

In This Tunnel, There is but One Light {Full Fic}

Written for @ask-joeydrewstudios​ upon the reveal of the Death List for all of the known characters so far.

“I’m sorry…”

The world tuned out, the edges of his vision blurring and ears ringing as the doctor continued to talk. Two words, said in a tone filled with dread, it made him want to sit down and weep. He wanted to cry, because even though they had spent so long together, it felt like no time at all. He didn’t know what went wrong. It just seemed like a normal day…

The first had been Norman, who passed in his sleep. It had been coming for some time, after all. Ever since the Toons came to life, the elder had started to lag. He made fun of it, but they could all see it in his eyes.

The weeks following the news were somber, yes, but since it had been expected, not much had changed. Sometimes, when he passed the orchestra room, Henry could hear the man’s laugh, or orders to play a certain note. Sammy sometimes went to go argue with the new conductor, starting off with a yell of the old man’s name before stopping, a look of grief passing over his features before returning under his mask. Joey and Susie found that the music didn’t sing just quite as well as when Norman did it. The toons, perhaps, were hit worse.

There had been others leaving, if for children or weddings or other jobs, but never once for death. Alice had found a type of kinship with him, and often could be found holding his hat, which he had placed on her halo the day of his retirement party. Bendy and Boris, of course, were with her during this duration of grief.

Thomas went next due to smoking; lung cancer. It had been too late to tell, too late to properly prepare. It comes as a low blow, because everyone became very aware of the cigarette in Sammy’s mouth as they all stared at their former co-worker’s nurse. As before, grief settled across the studio, and as before, the Toons were the ones to suffer the most.

Joey went in front of all of them. Boris, Alice, Bendy, Henry, Dianne, Sammy, Susie, Wally. The Original gang, minus Norman. Each, he told them something; something that on any other day, would’ve lightened their hearts. Bendy was told that Joey was forever proud that his ‘first born’ had found a way to enjoy life, even in this type of imprisonment. Boris was told that no matter what, he was forever loved and always the best wolf-ink-son he could’ve asked for. Alice was his darling girl, a true angel amidst demonic rituals. It went this way through the humans, all the way up to Henry. “Take care of them,” Joey whispered. “Or I’ll haunt your…” he trailed off.

“Aw, c-c’mon,” Bendy sniffed, head curling into his Creator’s side. “A-A word wou-wouldn’t h-hurt.”

“Hush, Bendy,” Joey murmured. “You’re the owner, Henry. Please… Keep us…” he was gone before ‘going’ could pass his lips. Bendy wouldn’t let them near the body for a day, to which it took Alice, Boris and a group of ‘seekers’ to remove him from the room.

And for once, since the opening day, Joey Drew Studio fell silent. Silent it stayed for three weeks, the workers in too much shock to raise their voice beyond a whisper, which often sent the Toons into a fit. Wally, for all that he complained, couldn’t find it in him when he found the poor demon curled in a puddle, shaking uncontrollably as he rocked back and forth. Sammy, for all that he bitched, found that the little shit wasn’t actually as bad as he seems when he was in too much grief to do anything, which was… actually disheartening.

Slowly, things resumed to normal. Lives were lived, stories were made and told. Up until, of course, Death made its strike again.

Shawn, their toymaker, went of old age, leaving his wife and children behind. He had been working on an Alice Angel doll for the said Angel when he closed his eyes and just… never opened them again. Alice… well, somethings were best left unsaid.

They had more warning with Sammy, but it was still unexpected. Susie stuck with his side, all the way to the end. The twins, 22, helped all they could, but even so, some holes just couldn’t be filled. The music studio was in a dilemma. Sammy was rough around the edges, and not a generally nice guy, but everything just felt wrong when his son stepped up to the plate, looking frazzled and tired.

The studio was just… never the same.

Henry found Susie in her husband’s old office, sketches of happier times clutched in her hands. Offering his own, he knew his eyes reflected his own tears. “I’m sorry…”

The next time it happened, it was a rainy, cold day. As before, everything seemed, well, normal. She had woken up and went through her altered morning rituals, still not used to waking up to a half empty bed, right side cold and stiff from disuse. Eleven years had passed since her love said his final words, and a day didn’t go by where she didn’t think of him at least once.

Still, she went through the routine of applying her lipstick and straightening her hair up, she grabbed her purse and pulled on her peacoat before heading out the door. Grey fog and wet concrete met her sights as the gentle patter of rain fell. Pushing her collar up – fond memories came up as she did this, making her smile bittersweetly – she continued down the sidewalk, only a few blocks away when a terrible sound screeched through the air.

Something hit her side, sending her flying into the building. A sharp pain in her neck led her laying halfway in debris, staring at the grey clouds as the rain continued to fall, her world slowly fading out.

Three blocks away, the day in the Studio hiccuped. Stephen and Stanley were, of course, asked of their mother and her whereabouts, to which they responded a ‘don’t know’ until around 4:16, when Henry got a phone call from the police department, asking if Stephen and/or Stanley were there.

He would never forget the twins’s screams when it was revealed a very, very old coworker of theirs had been driving with no brake pads, over the speed limit in the rain, and hit and killed their mother just three blocks down.

Grant had been hospitalized, having apparently said the wrong thing at the wrong place. They expected him to be ok, for the most part.

No one expected the mafia getting involved. In a twisted sense a humor, it was funny to see Grant’s past come out, but in context? It broke Henry’s and Dianne’s hearts. They had trusted him so much, yet he didn’t return the favor? He must’ve known they would’ve helped, which is why, of course, he probably didn’t ask for any help.

The years shifted, employees left and joined, and for a while, everything was good, happy, even. Henry’s phone rang from beside him, startling him slightly from where he had been doodling a design Joey would’ve shot down instantly with one of those blasted sticky notes of his. Picking up the phone, he spoke. “Joey Drew Studio, can I help you?”

“Yes, is this Henry Batim?” A woman asked.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“It’s about a Wally Franks? It was requested that you and the studio would be notified when this happens.” Dread and apprehension filled him. “It’s to my condolences that I must inform you that as of today, Mr. Franks was found dead in his room.”

“I see…” he rasped out. “I’ll inform the others. Thank you ma’am.” Hanging up the phone, his arm brushed an old picture. Picking it up, he smiled at the scene they had managed to capture. Joey sitting in the center, Bendy, himself and Wall to the elder man’s left, Boris behind him and Alice, Susie and Sammy to his right. With a sigh, he stood and gently set the frame down. “Looks like it’s just… me…”

The year of 1990 was… unbearable

Dianne had been laughing at a joke Benjamen had told her while a cake was being baked in the oven. He had been on the phone, talking to Boris when a sudden shout of “MOM!” and when he turned, their eldest son was towering over her as she had a hand over her chest, over her heart. At first, he thought maybe she had laughed a little too hard, but her face turned pained, and her fingers dug into the borrowed sweater, and that’s when he knew.

The phone fell to the floor as he all but threw himself towards her armchair just as the first gasp came. “Honey? Honey?!” He could see Ben going to the phone, hanging up before sharply pulling it off the hook again, only receiving the dial up tone in return.

“Henry,” Dianne whimpered, green, pain filled eyes pleading. Pleading for him or for the pain to stop, he didn’t know because her next words were outdrowned by Benjamen’s screaming for help, that his mother was having a heart attack. When he was finished, Henry was left crying as her breaths grew more and more shallow.

By the time the ambulance was there, Dianne was already gone.

Perhaps… perhaps his fate was honestly the worst. He knew from day one there had been a very high chance that he’d outlive Norman and Joey. But Sammy? Susie? Wally? His precious Dianne? It made him want to cry. Oh, don’t get him wrong, the past eleven years had been a joy, even if the first year or so was numb. The Toons adored having someone living full-time with them again, but they could see it on him as the last few years begun to set it. He could tell, because Bendy was starting to act more distant, less like the prankster he was. Boris was clingy and almost never left his Creator’s side. Alice was over helpful, often taking papers even when he didn’t need help.

At first, it was a little endearing, but as the weeks passed, the feeling quickly fled when they tried to get him to stop drawing. He put a stop to that quickly, but he knew everyone would be watching him closely. “Stanley, Stephen, do you know why I called you in here?” He asked them one day when they were in his office, well aware of the toons’s eyes on him.

“Studio Business, right?” Stanley asked.

“Yes. Or, rather, Studio Succession. Joey Drew named me owner upon his passing, but for a while there, we all thought in some way we would have been left, well, leaderless. I don’t want to do that to these guys.”

“Uncle Henry?” Stephen questioned, face filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

“No, Stephen.” he sighed. “I’ve never been alright. I’m old, and tired. I know I don’t have much longer,” Boris burrowed his head into Henry’s side at this, making the old man smile slightly and pet him. “Which is why when I finally go, you two will be in charge. You grew up with the Toons, and both of you are doing so brilliant as department heads. It’s without a doubt you two can take over my place.”

“I… Henry, we…” Stanley shared a look with his twin and they went around the desk, hugging the man they considered to be an uncle. They broke at the same time, crying into his tweed jacket as Alice and Bendy also enveloped him into a hug. A hug none of them wanted to end.

Weeks passed, and on day, he walked into the studio, eyes narrowing at how quiet it seemed. “Joey?” He called out before frowning. Why did that seem wrong? There was pitterpatter and a black, faceless entity was in front of him.

“Bendy, get back here!” A familiar voice called. Joey Drew rounded the corner, and stopped behind the faceless blob. “Oh, hello there Henry.”

“Joey, what is that?” He found himself asking, unable to shake off the deja vu.

“It’s Bendy! I made him this weekend. Isn’t he lovely?” The old man asked, hands clasped and head tilted towards his creation.

“What do you mean yo-?” He cut himself off, looking around. “This is too familiar.”

“Hah, I was wondering when you’d point it out,” Joey chuckled, breaking character as well. “For lack of better words, you’re dead, and this is, well, Heaven.”

“But you sold your soul?”

“I did,” Joey confirmed. “But apparently that only takes place if I passed a line.” There was an awkward pause as the black body disappeared.

“Is… is everyone else…?”

“Oh, they’re about.” Joey answered, waving a hand around to motion to the studio, which looked exactly how it had been when Joey ran it. “I think you should go to your desk, however. There’s a present for you there.”

Frowning in confusion, Henry watched his old boss start to walk away before heading towards his old workstation, freezing at the sight that greeted him.

There Dianne sat, no more greys in her hair and laugh lines gone from her face. Her green eyes sparkled in both joy and grief as she threw herself at him, arms locking around his neck. Immediately, he buried his face into her neck and twirled her, stopping only just to start shaking and sobbing.

“I’m sorry.”

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 16

Today is swap, which gives me a chance to write about @dumb-batim-aus Fallen Angel AU. Which I am already working on writing in full. ^^”

Note: Tom is mute, but he knows sign language. So whenever he “Talks”, he’s signing. 

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

Allison had come to a crossroads. There were two doors before her with a sign pointing to the each. To the left was the one labeled Angel and to the right was the one labeled Demon. She shivered at the memory of the twisted version of Bendy she’d seen in the room behind her. 

“Angel it is, then.” She sighed, heading through that door. She could hear something slam down to her right. It seemed she wouldn’t be able to through that door now, even if she wanted. 

The room beyond the Angel doorway was filled with ink. It was flooded and ink dripped from the ceiling and stained the walls. There was a desk shoved against the wall and a chair in the corner. The chair had an audio log on it, which Allison probably wanted to hear.

“Great. Another flooded room.” She sighed, stepping into the ink. Well, her clothes were pretty much ruined already. She waded over to the chair and pressed play. She tensed as Susie’s voice filled the room. Her showman voice, not her real one. 

“There’s nothing wrong with dreaming. Wishing for the impossible is just human nature. That’s how I got started. Just a pencil and a dream. We all want everything without even having to lift a finger. They say you just have to believe. Belief can make you succeed. Belief can make you rich. Belief can make you powerful. Why with enough belief, you can even cheat death itself. Now that…is a beautiful, and positively silly thought.”

As soon as the tape finished playing, Allison picked it up and hurled it at the wall as hard as she could. The tape recorder cracked and broke, the pieces falling into the abyss of the ink.

“WHOSE DREAM WAS IT, SUSIE?!” She screamed. “WHOSE PENCIL?! IT WAS MINE! MY DREAM! MY WORK! I WAS THE ONE WHO MADE ALL THIS! YOU STOLE IT!” Her breath quickened as 30 years’ worth of repressed anger came bubbling up.

“I TRUSTED YOU!” Allison kicked the wall, tugging at her hair and beginning to pace. “I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING I HAD BUT IT WAS NEVER ENOUGH!” Tears sprung up in her eyes, wiping away some of the ink as they trailed down her face.

“We were supposed to be partners!” Her voice faltered as she was choked by a sob.

“We were supposed to be partners.” She started to sob, collapsing to her knees in the ink. “We were supposed to be friends…” Allison had never had many friends. She’d always been the sort to keep to herself. She’d had…bad experiences with people in the past. She’d thought Susie would be different. But in the end, her ‘friend’ had been just like everyone else. Only interested in what Allison could do for her. 

She stood there for a long time, outright wailing and screaming at the ceiling. It felt good to vent her frustrations. She’d kept it all bottled up for so long. Once she felt calmer, she wiped away her tears and continued out of the room. From there, it was down another hallway. 

“If I’d known how much I’d be walking, I would have worn better shoes,” Allison muttered. She was glad she hadn’t worn heels, but her flats still weren’t doing much in terms of support. She paused, leaning against a wall for support as she took off her shoes and shook them out a bit. Once she was satisfied she’d gotten most of the ink out, she kept going. 

She should have listened to Linda. She should never have come back here. She’d left for goodness sake. She’d gotten tired of being pushed around and she’d left. She had no reason to come back here. But...some part of her had hoped that maybe, maybe, if she came back Susie would the same woman she remembered. The one who had praised her ideas and supported her. The one who was her friend. She missed that Susie. She wanted to believe that Susie had been real. Susie couldn’t have been pretending the whole time, right? 

Allison was so consumed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the Alice cutout that had been set up in front of her until she ran right into it. She shrieked, stumbling back and drawing her sword. Tom poked his head out from around the corner, a smug smile on his face.

“Tom! Don’t do that!” She yelled, sheathing her sword. “You nearly scared me half to death!” Tom snickered quietly, putting the cutout back against the wall. 

“You’re the worst.” Allison rolled her eyes, exhaling with a sharp huff. 

“Sorry.” Tom signed. “Thought you could use a laugh.” Allison’s irritation ebbed a bit at this. 

“Thank you.” She allowed herself a small smile. “I appreciate the effort.”

“No problem.” He returned the smile. He looked a bit awkward smiling, but she was glad he was trying. 

“We should keep going.” She said, gently pushing past him. 

Through the door was what might have once been a storage room. The room was occupied mostly with shelves filled with plushes of Alice, Bendy, and Boris. Most of the plushes were small and on the shelves, but there were a few massive ones on the floor. And, here too, there were Alice cutouts. Despite the puddles on the floor, the toys seemed mostly untouched. Tom passed through the room without a second thought, but Allison lingered. She stood in front of one of the shelves, letting her fingers graze an Alice plush. 

“I should take you with me.” She said, smiling softly at the toy. She’d always dreamed of having merchandise of her characters. Alice was one of her proudest achievements as well. She’d always wanted to have a doll of Alice. The studio hadn’t been nearly successful enough for that when she’d left. Susie really had done a lot without her. 

Tom once again drew her out of her thoughts by rapping on the doorframe with his metal hand. She stumbled away from the shelf, mumbling an apology. It was so easy to get lost in her memories in this place. She exited the room to join Tom. He pointed to the switch in front of him and then to the wire snaking down the hallway. 

“I need to throw this switch. You need to throw the other one.” He said. 

“We need to throw these switches at the same time,” Allison said. Tom nodded, pointing to the wires again.

“Alright.” Allison followed the wire toward where the switch likely was. She paused, though, as she saw a hallway to her right leading to a different part of the level. She could see an audio log on a table. She pursed her lips, glancing back at Tom. He was watching her expectantly, arms folded. She decided she’d get it on the way back. The wire, sure enough, led to a switch. It was right next to a poster of the Butcher Gang. 

“I remember you.” Allison laughed to herself, approaching the poster. “You’re not nearly as scary as you look here.” She turned to flip the switch when something suddenly busted through the poster. She screamed, stumbling back. To her horror, a mangled version of the Butcher Gang leader, Charley, got its feet and shambled toward her with an unnatural rasping shriek. She took it down, of course, but it proved to be tougher than the Searchers she’d previously faced.

“Fuck this studio.” She growled, slamming the switch down. She stalked back out of the hallway and down the other one. She jabbed her finger down on the play button of the audio log. 

“Alright, let’s go over this again,” Wally said. “If the pressure goes over 45, I screw the safety bolt in tighter, right?”

“No!” Thomas snapped. “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?” Wally asked. “You know, this sounds harder than comparing ear wax to bee’s wax!”

“Look, it’s not that difficult!” Thomas said. “Just keep an eye on the gauge!”

“Look, pal,” Wally said. “If you think I’m doing my job AND yours, I’m outta here!”

“Oh, Wally.” Allison couldn’t help but smile as the recorder clicked off. She loved Wally, but he could be such a doofus. She turned away from the tape recorder, walking back to join Tom by the door. 

“I heard you scream. Are you alright?” He asked. 

“I’m fine.” She assured him. “Just another fucked up ink creature. This place is crawling with them.” 

Tom snorted. “What else is new?”

“Point taken.” Allison laughed wearily. “Let’s get going.” Together, they proceeded through the open door. They passed through a short corridor lined with gears before coming out in the area with the elevator. There were bathrooms to the right and a wraparound staircase leading down to the elevator. Tom and Allison descended the stairs, pressing the button and entering the elevator. 

“You’re so interesting...So different.” Joey’s voice purred out from the speakers. “I have to say, I’m an instant fan. Looks like you’ve got a date with the devil, toots.”

“I was hoping he wouldn’t keep doing that.” Allison groaned quietly. 

“Come to me now, Level 9.” Joey continued unhindered. “Just follow the screams.” Tom jabbed the button before shuffling back and folding his arms. 

“Yeah, I know.” Allison patted his shoulder as the elevator began to descend. “He’s...Something.” She couldn’t think of the creature dictating them as Bendy. She just couldn’t. 

It didn’t take long for them to reach level 9. Allison didn’t recognize this area, but then again, she didn’t recognize a lot of areas she was seeing. 

“Come on, step out of your cage,” Joey said as the grating slid back. “There’s a whole twisted world out here.” Allison glanced at Tom, then back at the level before him. Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped out.