#attaches himself to jack. attaches himself to joey. attaches himself to the ink demon. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youllallriseintheink · 4 years

Text

Early Ink Hell, chapter 4: the birth of a religion

I know I told some of you that a butcher gang chapter was going to be next. Sorry, but I’ve realized that there’s just no elegant way to slip that in, pacing-wise. As a result, I’m going to upload the last “main series” chapter next, and give you the butcher gang chapter after that. Anyhow, enjoy.

---Sammy Lawrence---

Days passed, forcing me to realize that my pleads to Bendy were not being answered. The boredom was also driving me mad. One trip, I decided. To head down to the ink machine and try to go to find my lord and speak to him in person. Anything was better than this useless routine.

Getting down to the giant ink machine proved more difficult than I expected. Before the sealing of the studio, it would have been easy to get to the elevator and take it down to the very basement, where I'd use the key Joey had given me to unlock the massive machine. Now, the building’s new configuration had me going in circles a dozen times before I finally found the elevator. The buttons were very different than I remembered them, but I nonetheless pushed the button for the bottom floor. The place it let me out looked nothing like the giant ink machine. I cursed the shifting studio under my breath. How many more complications was this studio going to throw at me for such a simple task?

As it turned out, many. The studio (lord, I speak as though it were alive) seemed intent on proving as much. My journey started off simply enough, although he had to smack my way through a set of butcher gang members just to clear the first hallway. After that, it was one emotionally draining scene after another. First, Grant Cohen’s office, whose walls had been coated with money-related gibberish messages that the man had left the day before his disappearance. Playing the tape of his, Lacie's, and Shawn's gruesome murder- one I'd participated in- brought a wave of guilt upon me. But, at least they'd been strangers. Next, I ran into an audio log left by Susie Campbell detailing her feelings of anger and betrayal by Joey Drew. That had been the mindset she was in when she’d agreed to become Alice Angel. Both audio logs I left behind. Best to put it out of my mind, although the studio was beginning to feel like a museum of all the twisted things that had happened here. Yet I couldn’t find a staircase down to the cause of so many of them.

Finally, I wandered into Bendyland and came upon a horrid sight: the giant, severed head of Bertrum Piedmont, resting in an octopus ride. It was cocked to its side, unwilling to do more than stare at me listlessly. I hadn’t known Bertrum at all, but with the resignation written all over his face and the immobile state of his body, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

I was about to tell him the good news about my lord when I heard the familiar cackling of the Butcher Gang. In sheer instinct, I ran and hid under a bench. Even curled up and facing away as I was, I could hear the carnage as the chatter turned to angry grunts. At the same time, ominous theme park music began to play.

“Enough! Get away!” A booming British voice yelled through the speakers. I peeked out.

The piper was striking at Bertrum’s face, leaving cuts that resembled ink smears. Bertrum swung at them, hitting his own side and smushing the fisher. Meanwhile, the striker attempted to hit his mouth, only to have his front leg bitten off with a sickening snap.

I fought the urge to vomit, and prayed to the forces that be that Bendy would let me out of here. Bertrum smacked down his arm and narrowly missed the fleeing piper and striker, crushing my axe instead. For whatever reason, that was the final straw. I laid back down behind the bench and stayed down, even as the carnival music stopped and the chatter of the two butcher gang members faded.

Then came the booming British voice again. "Lacie?"

Sammy peeked out. The fisher said something indiscernible.

"Oh. I'm sorry. You three come here. I'll never hurt you again."

The butcher gang closed in on the man's face.

"YOU! Behind the table!" the voice yelled. "Did you hurt Lacie and her family while they were in this state? Shame on you. Go to the human village where you belong!"

I tried to say something, but was cut off after the first syllable.

"NOW!"

"...Where?"

Bertrum seemed genuinely surprised. "Oh, you don't know. Right this way."

With that, a metal door clanged open, and I stepped through it. inside was a hole in the floor with a metal platform hanging just above it, held up by rope attached to a pulley system. Hanging on the bottom of it was a bell. I stepped on, and the bell rang. The platform began to lower. Downwards, I saw a man I didn't recognize and a familiar woman in black and white.

---Susie Campbell---

The platform stopped a good five feet or so above my head- high enough that he'd think twice about jumping.

"Recognize this one, miss Campbell? Do we keep him?" Gary asked. The village has appointed me as an expert on the ink creatures, which, considering how little they know about them, is appropriate.

I narrowed my eyes. Sammy obviously recognized me, because he was shrinking into himself. "Absolutely not. He worked with Joey Drew. Don't even bring him down here so we can throw him into the ink river! Put him back!" I could hear my voice growing demonic. I didn't care.

Gary looked over to me. "He worked with Joey Drew, you say?" he said. Then, he turned to Sammy. "Do you know anything about what's going on right now?"

Sammy eased up. "Yes! I know how we can escape! Please- is Jack Fain here? He'll back me up, I promise it."

"Alright. Alice, hold the rope. I'll go get Jack."

I did as I was told, and glared up at Sammy. "What the hell are you doing?" I yelled to him, "You told me you didn't know anything. Which is it?"

"I have... developed certain theories," he replied calmly. But I knew that he was just making that up so that we'd let him down.

That's when Jack arrived. "Sammy! Yes, let him down. He told me all about how if we can summon the ink demon and get him to do what we want, he'll set us free."

"Well, go on, Alice-" Gary started.

"Susie!" I snapped.

"Right. Susie. Let him down."

Grumbling, I obeyed.

---Sammy Lawrence---

Jack and the other man, who introduced himself as Gary, proceeded to show me around the village. It wasn’t much, at the time, but it was still evident that the people here had come together and were making the best of things. The area was bordered on two sides by walls, by an ink river on another, and the final side was blocked off by a massive wooden fence that they must have built themselves, providing full protection, as Jack explained it, from ink creatures. Bad ink creatures that was- they did have Susie and a pair of Boris clones living within their walls. A man in a GENT uniform was building a structure of some sort over an area where a large number of cots had been gathered. Other supplies had been gathered, too, such as bacon soup, rope, and even a few axes. The area even contained a bathroom, which would allow for any members of the area to quickly wash off the corruptive ink. That must have been why the members of this community were so undamaged. There were many amputees- Jack among them- but in terms of ink poisoning, the group was surprisingly healthy.

After their little tour, my guides asked me for my story. I told them everything.

To my relief and disbelief, they believed every word of it, and were happy to hear that someone, anyone, had a clue about the supernatural forces at play and how to escape them. That night, I was given a platform to tell the whole village about my faith. The next day, a group of scouts were sent out alongside me to find the giant ink machine. Every axe was in the arms of a strong man, and we went all throughout the studio in search of my lord. After hours of searching, we finally came upon him, holding down a Boris, who was squirming and yelping in his grasp. I fell to me knees, waiting for him to finish so that I could make my plea. Once the Boris disintegrated, Bendy turned his head towards us, and the words, “I can free you,” appeared on a wall, written in ink.

The group of men had come down to this place thinking of the ink demon as a concrete solution to their problems. They came up as Bendy’s disciples, thinking him a God. And I, their resident expert on the occult, was their advisor on how to please him. Having seen Bendy devour ink creatures on more than one occaision, my best guess on the matter was to gather as many ink creatures as possible.

Over the next number of days, small groups were sent out with axes to bring back ink creatures and cages in which to keep them. Susie made several pleas to me to stop. I loathe her selfishness- everyone in this town was putting themselves in danger for this-three people had become infected and required amputation while on their quests. One had been mauled to death by a Barley and had become an ink creature, like me. Yes, the ink demon might devour her, but he was just as likely to devour me. She even began locking herself in one of the cages to sleep at night, which was actively working against our goals. I was appalled, and one day I lost it and began shouting at her for it. It was quite out of the pastorly character I'd set for myself, but it had to be done. Although, I think I only succeeded in turning her further against me.

Eventually, we had mapped out the entire studio. Unfortunately, there weren't a lot of ink creatures that could be captured. Most were very good at defending themselves. And that is when I proposed sacrifice- to turn more of us into ink creatures. The amputees were the first to volunteer, hoping that they'd get their limbs back, at least. I proposed that we make a sacrifice every three days, spacing them out so that we would not do more than necessary.

Finally, after two weeks and four sacrifices, the demon came.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #sammy lawrence #alice angel #bertrum piedmont #Early Ink Hell

3 notes · View notes

artnerd1123 · 4 years

Text

DTRH!AU Masterpost

Moving into a new post since I’ve got stuff actually organized!!! It’ll likely get an update from time to time. Apologies to those whom the read more breaks for ‘^^

Everything to do with this au will be tagged #dtrh!au or #down the rabbit hole au Individual characters are tagged with #dtrh![name]

Here’s an AU PMV for starters!

Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?

Putting this up here so it doesn’t get super buried- Here’s the fic(s) set in this AU! All Moving Pictures End

The AU crash course: The premise behind the au is that everything takes place in a pocket dimension controlled by a black magic script. Joey Drew is the one who’s writing/editing this script, and his rewrites affect the world and the characters within it. His constant reshaping eventually twists the world from a sitcom genre to a horror film- hence the horror esque setting, creatures, and plot. The characters didn’t escape the rewrites’ effects either. They’re warped into corrupted versions of themselves. However, these characters end up becoming sentient after awhile. The first one of these to become entirely sentient is Henry. He’s currently the only one who’s all the way out of alignment. A toon gone rogue, if you will. He still goes along with Joey’s “plot,” but it’s more so he can try to reach the other characters than to keep Joey happy or unaware of his actions. His goal is to basically “wake up” the other characters, so they can all stop living in a hellish nightmare studio and actually try and make something nice out of their home. He’s extremely dedicated to his goal.

Character time!!! toon trio refs / corrupted refs butcher gang refs / corrupted refs toon henry ref toon sammy ref / corrupted sammy ref toon susie ref / corrupted susie ref toon allison and tom refs / corrupted allison and tom refs joey ref / toon joey ref toon norman ref / corrupted ref toon bertrum ref / corrupted ref toon and corrupted grant refs toon jack ref / corrupted jack ref toon wally ref / corrupted wally ref toon and corrupted lacie refs toon and corrupted shawn refs

Character relationships/orientations

Concept art, anyone? toon trio concept work (w/ bonus corrupted bendy n alice) corrupted boris/alice concept work (ft bonus hen) butcher gang concept work (w/ corrupted forms) henry concept work sammy concept work (and more henry) susie concept work joey concept work corrupted norman concept work toon norman concept work throwing around lost ones ideas

Misc stuff Henry, but Goop™ Susie and Studio Tea™ Hey Henry, how do u feel about Joey? Yo hold up, hen and polk are a thing??? Henry’s glasses saga Regular studio shenanigans

FAQ:

How many of the employees are gonna show up? Hopefully all the named ones in the game! Once they’ve got a design, they’re guaranteed to show up somewhere.

Are they really carbon copies of the employees? Is there nothing different about them and their irl counterparts? They started as carbon copies! Latching onto their old traits and their old selves does help them come to their senses. However, different character development happens in script than IRL, so they end up different. Henry, for example, takes up the last name “Ross” when he wakes up (instead of his IRL counterpart’s “Stien”) to differentiate himself :0

So is everyone corrupted on purpose? Yes and no. Yes, because Joey chose to rewrite the script so much that it mangled characters, but no, because he didn’t intend to mangle them in the first place. It just kinda happened.

What makes them corrupted? Corruption is what happens when you can’t hold onto the core of what your character is, and get dragged into what the new script is telling you. It’s when you lose sight of who you are among all the chaos. People who are drawn farther away from their actual selves end up more monstrous. Susie (aka “alice” angel) is a great example of this. Bendy is too! Far be it from his real nature to be a murderous monster.

So can the toons be uncorrupted? Yup! Henry’s our model citizen this time. He looks more like a toon than a normal person, sure, but there’s nothing monstrous about him. That’s because he’s latched onto what makes him Henry. He’s not letting the instability of the world around him shake him up. Otherwise he’d be a goopy mess of ink.

Why’d Joey write everyone so differently that they corrupted? He’s actually very out of touch with people once he starts rewriting the script. Since his memories are getting foggy, he fixates on details that he can remember, and exaggerates them as needed. In fact, he’s hidden tape recorders around the script studio as built in reminders of these character traits.

How’d Henry wake up? And how does he plan on waking everyone else up? Ok… this is a longer answer. It all comes together, i promise. Jus hang with me. Whenever henry dies, he gets sent back to a sort of “first draft” stage. In order to get back to the world he’s supposed to exist in, he has to get through all the layers of ink Joey put down to get to his current script. As one can imagine… there’s a lot. So much so that Henry has to essentially swim to the surface. As he passes through all this ink, he can hear whispers of previous scripts. The deeper he is, the closer these whispers are to what the world used to be like. Seeing as Henry is the protagonist, he ended up dying… a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Joey had a lot of snags in the script to work out. All these times sent into the draft-y ink soup made made Henry slowly realize what was going on. He wasn’t mindless anymore. He knew what was up. After realizing that the world wasn’t right, it didn’t take him long to push for the rest of his consciousness. He plans on using what whispers and memories he can gather to bring everyone else back. He’s not dying on purpose, mind you, but he gathers as much information as he can to help everyone else realize that they’re not who they’re supposed to be.

Wait, memories? Does Henry remember the past scripts now? Not quite? He’s got a good enough memory stockpile to keep himself centered, but he doesn’t always know what’s up ahead as he heads through another studio loop. If Joey happens to rewrite or change around the script, those patches of Henry’s memory blip out of existence. Or at least get hazy. Hen can often tell if Joey’s changed something by how many holes he has in his memories.

Can anyone in the pocket dimension get out? Henry’s the only one who can get out! Joey literally wrote him a back door to the script. It used to be so he could talk to Henry whenever the “story” was over, but nowadays it’s just to judge how fast plot goes via how quickly Hen gets back. All Henry can manage to do is walk around and stare silently. And he can’t even stay out very long. Ink’s unstable in the real world. Gotta go back in n start the horror show over if u wanna live :/

Can Joey go in? Nope! Since he’s not made of ink, he can’t go in. He can watch tho!!! He does so via writing POV shifts into the script, and watches through whatever character it shifted to. Who needs cameras when u got the eyes of black magic toons n inky monsters ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Does Joey know Henry is sentient now? Nnnnot quite? He thinks the magic is being screwy with him. He can’t switch POV to Henry anymore, since the toon’s taken control of himself, and that’s real confusing since the writer doesn’t know what’s up. Plus, like mentioned above, Hen can’t exactly give Joey a sign once he gets out of the studio. Bummer :/

Is Joey gonna majorly rewrite the script any time soon? Nope. He’s to attached to his current plot to change the genre or anythin, so it’s gonna stay as is. With some changes here and there. One musn’t underestimate how many times u can change the order of scenes, or improve dialogue...

AU Background:

((this is long as shiz, so get some popcorn slfkjs))

Y’all probably wanna know how this whole horror show started. I’ve got two words for ya: Joey Drew. Unsurprising! But he’s our starting point nonetheless. Joey Drew is the retired owner of Joey Drew Studios, a cartoon studio that ran itself into the ground after a decade or two of fantastical cartoons. Money problems aren’t kind to the entertainment industries. However, the studio was still his pride and joy! As are the friends who stuck by him or met him during the time it was open. He kept up with all of them through the years. They were like a little family. Unfortunately, time has a way of changing things. With his friends drifting away, living their own lives, getting up in years, or a combination of the three, Joey wasn’t doing too well. He was lonely. Feeling washed up. Missing the glory days, where he helped work on cartoon scripts instead of submitting horror and mystery shorts to local magazines. Not all that surprising that he turned to something else to cope. This thing being none other than occult magic. Because… of course it is. It’s a habit he’s had for years. Nothing like some demonic rituals to spice up the life of the creative mind behind kids’ cartoons! Especially fun when you’re a man with poor impulse control and a wild imagination. In any case, Joey summons the three main characters of his beloved cartoon series. Bendy, Alice, and Boris! (I refer to these three as the “toon trio.”) He was just as happy that he’d managed to bring them to life as he was to have them around the house. It was like having slightly unruly grandkids with toony superpowers. In other words, they were absolutely delightful!!! He took care of them and admired their antics. It was a great time. … until. Well. It wasn’t. Turns out things that don’t belong in this world get rejected eventually. After a few months, things started go go wayward. The toon trio had difficulties maintaining their forms, moving, engaging in tropes, and a ton of other things. They were miserable. Joey was understandably heartbroken to see this happen to his poor toons. So, like any good person, he tried to do the right thing: put them back on the paper they came from. It didn’t end up working exactly how he’d expected. Everything comes with a price when you mess with demonic ink. The magic not only created a stack of paper instead of a series of drawings, but latched onto an old fountain pen and Joey’s closet. If the closet thing seems odd, it is. But it’s a convenient place to hide ritual pentagrams! So, closet it is. Upon frantic examination of the papers, Joey discovered it was a script. A black magic infused script. Three names up top told him the toon trio were the only characters. A bit of experimentation led him to discover that the magic-infused pen was the only thing that could interact with the script properly. Further experimentation showed him that the script had made his closet into a pocket dimension. The contents? Whatever was in his new script. This is where the real fun begins. The new magic script practically floored Joey with awe. He had a world he could shape however he wished! He could run all those scripts he’d never gotten to put in production! He could watch his toons frolick! He could even use it to play with ideas he’d never gotten to explore. The possibilities were endless!

((Of course, you might be wondering if Joey… y’know. Knew the toons were still alive. Because they were, they were just living in a pocket dimension now. In short? No. He didn’t. He carefully tested a few things with the script, just to make sure. All the toons did was what he wrote down. They moved like they were alive, but didn’t act that way. Plus, the dimension made them blank slates. They didn’t have any characterization in there to make them truly alive. So! For all intents and purposes? He saw them as you would any other character you write. A visual extension of his imagination. Ok mini rant over, back to the story--))

Playing with the toons was amazing. Joey hadn’t had fun like that in years! It was his little secret world, populated by his cherished toons. He could make believe whatever he wished. Eventually, though, loneliness started to catch back up to the old man. His friends… his family… life… it all went on. He just felt left behind. And what does Joey do when he doesn’t feel good? Not cope healthily, that’s for sure. Onwards to more occult magic! Only this time, he tries something… different. The toons were lonely. They deserved company. They deserved someone to take care of them. A familiar face. Maybe someone who helped Joey create them in the first place. Someone who’d just sent Mr. Drew an old letter and a card, since he hadn’t seen him in awhile… … someone like Henry. Using the magic pen, Joey traced over Henry’s note. Far from ruining the precious letter, it transferred “Henry” into the script. It’s not the real one! Basically a carbon copy, fresh from the time period that Hen first wrote the note in. Seeing as Henry’s letter came from around the time the cartoon studio was going strong, it’s an old version of him. But it was still Joey’s old friend. Just… toony. Toon Henry reacted just as his living friend would. If he wrote dialogue? He spoke it like Henry would. If he wrote some action? The toon put a classic Henry twist on it. Delighted, Joey returned to his script with renewed vigor. Toon Henry got to spend plenty of quality with the toon trio as the days went on. Thus began a trend of toonification. Missing one of his old friends? All Joey had to do was grab something with their old handwriting on it, and trace them into the script! There’s a carbon copy that acts just like the real deal! A fine compromise, right? … Right? Not exactly. It was fine at first. Joey made what could probably qualify as a sitcom-style story for the toony world to run on. His friends, at this point, all populated the studio. The premise was that the toons (now including the butcher gang!) had been summoned while he was still running the studio, and got up to hijinks with the rest of the employees. A hefty dose of actual studio drama- turned comedic, of course- kept the whole thing almost real. Joey even featured himself once or twice, but only in allusions, or a disembodied voice. He wasn’t about to let a carbon copy of himself have all the fun. It made him feel less lonely. More included. A fantasy world of never ending fun and heartwarming moments. How unfortunate it is that life doesn’t follow this pattern. Morality is a hard thing to come to terms with. So is sickness. Especially that of a friend. … it was just one rewrite at first. One alteration on a bad day. After all, using writing to cope is perfectly acceptable. One bad episode in the midst of sunshine doesn’t discount it all. One uncanny occurrence, though, doesn’t usually stay singular. It didn’t take long for the solitary rewrite to become two rewrites. Then three. Four. Six. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. More and more and more. Until the happy honey colored studio slipped into sinister sepia. This wasn’t the old script anymore. Not by a long shot.

The setting? A studio of shattered dreams. Your protagonist? Henry. His goal? Survive long enough to escape.

~It’s quite th͝e̵͞͏ ͠M̕a͘sţe̛̕r͘p̕i̵͝e̡ḉe̡̨͜~̡̛

#dtrh!au #down the rabbit hole au #dtrh!masterpost #/#//#batim au #woop woop!!!#this took me like... 3 hours #to get it all together #slkjdfkldsfj--#the hyperfixation is strong in this one :VVV #but!!! all that aside; updates to come; as usual. and if there's a question u have that's not in the faq; feel free to hmu!!!#arty writes

10 notes · View notes

lucky-dreamfisher · 5 years

Text

BATIM Chapter 2 - Detailed Analysis #2

We enter the main hall of the Music Department. As the first light comes on, we can hear the sound of a Searcher's moan - probably the ones hiding in the pipe up above our heads. We can also notice that fresh candles have been set up to provide light to the department. It's hard to tell why the ink creatures preferred the use of candles over activating the light switch. Furthermore, they attack Henry as soon as he turns on the lights, suggesting that it somehow displeased them.

The audio log implies that the ink machine must have been operational for at least a month, and that it would leak on a regular basis. It's interesting that Joey's solution for the problem was one that was not permanent. It's either a sign of his poor management skills, or a hint that the floods troubling the music department were somehow to his advantage. Note that Sammy's voice sounds uncharacteristically sane in this recording.

The wall is also interesting. We can learn from it that Sammy was the director of the Music Department, who has earned multiple awards during his career (presumably with Joey's name on them). Sammy is the only person inside the studio, other than Joey himself, who has earned himself a title, which may hint that Joey had more respect for him than for the other workers.

Notice the missing record - there's an ink-covered record player right next to it. It would seem that an ink creature with very messy hands took a record off the wall and put it inside the player. There are two ink splatters behind each of the speakers as well - the creature used ink to attach them to the wall. As the music only begins to play after we kill the searchers, the record player and the speakers may have been set up as an alarm - warning the ink creatures of an intruder poking around the place, or attempting to hide the sounds they are making from Bendy's ears. That would explain how we can run around the area without getting his attention.

There's a board standing right over another ink splatter. The entrance was boarded up from the inside, and the splatter implies that an ink creature was responsible. It put the board down right next to a conveniently placed audio log. It seems that the boards and the audio log were set up by the same creature, which has also Ink Demon-proofed the Music Hall.

This looks like Bender's work - he seems to have quite a lot of audio logs at his disposal, and we can hear wet, inky footsteps at the end of the audio log with his voice.

There's another board left next to the now-locked door to the Music Department's break room. We can also see another splatter of ink in the corner, too. Bender may have gone inside, after preparing the alarm.

One of the posters gives us our first look at Alice Angel. As we know from the audio logs on the JDS youtube channel, she was created in 1932. There are no posters with the Butcher Gang in this area, which suggests that the Music Hall was built before they were created, probably around the time of the studio's first expansion in 1931. Wally's tape from 1933 also mentions the bins - a reference to the Music Hall's fetch quests.

We can find a freshly lit candle inside this room. It's the first bacon candle we find in the game, and the only one such candle in this chapter - all others are the long, white ritual candles. Whoever was here set up a pool table. Looking closely, we'll notice that one of the balls resembles an eyeball. More One-Eye symbolism? If so, it must be metaphorical, because I don’t think the eyeball is real.

There is a gate on the opposite wall. Considering the lack of mysterious splatters of ink, whoever has just unlocked the door to this room may have left via the gate. Or came in here specifically in order to lock it.

We can also find a Bacon Soup advertisement. Notice that the ad claims it was made from a traditional family recipe. Some of the achievements for collecting bacon soup cans in the game are called "The Taste of Home" and "Just Like Mom Used to Make", which suggests that the recipe may have belonged to Henry's family.

After turning the lights back on, we are attacked by 7 searchers. But if we retrace our steps back to the utility shaft, we can find another searcher in the flooded corridor, and yet another in the ritual circle. That's 9 searchers in total - one per each member of the band. Those must have been Music Department's band members. That would explain why they obey Sammy's command.

Notice that all of them are searchers - there are no Lost Ones, or characters from Bendy cartoons. Considering that at least one of them spawns inside a flooded corridor, it may be that some of the band members used to possess more complex bodies, until they were swept away by the ink flood of our making. It's no wonder they are angry with us!

he searchers leave a large splatter at the place of their death. It's worth keeping a note of that, as some of the splatters we will encounter in the game may have been left by dead ink creatures.

As soon as we finish the massacre, music begins to play, hiding the noise we’ve been making from Bendy’s ears.

After turning the projector on, we can see images of Tombstone Picnic, which suggests that this was the last cartoon that the Music Department was working on. One of Joey's notes in the textures for Chapter 5 also suggests that music for the cartoon was created after Susie was replaced by Allison.

That's strange! According to the JDS channel, Tombstone Picnic was, in fact, one of the very first cartoons the studio has ever created. Could it be that Joey was trying to re-shoot the missing ending? That certainly didn't make the Ink Dmeon very happy! Could this have been the final straw that caused him to go on a rampage?

Norman's audio log doesn't contain anything interesting, aside from the mention of Joey's "peculiarities". As Norman was known to be sneaky, we have to wonder what kind of secrets did he discover, that made him so wary of his boss.

If the new ending of Tombstone Picnic was the last cartoon the Music Department was working on, then "The Lighter Side of Hell" would be one of the songs intended for the soundtrack to it.

It's interesting that we never hear Sammy singing it. He appears to be preoccupied with Sheep Songs. Jack Fain was likely hired as the studio's lyricist after its expansion, and Sheep Songs appears to have been created at the time the studio was still rather small. It's possible that the lyrics to Sheep Songs were created by Sammy personally, which is why he feels deeper attachment to it, than he does to the songs he created together with Jack.

Up on the wall we can see two mysterious splatters of ink right above two conveniently placed chairs, which reveal Sammy's shortcut from the projectionist's booth down to the recording room. This gives us some idea of how he managed to get these Bendy cutouts between the two places. Why does he bother to move the cutouts around? Perhaps he's tired of us repeatedly destroying them?

Susie's audio log was made two months after she was hired to work at the studio, at around the same time Alice Angels' character was created, which we now know happend in 1932. Her first impression of the studio is very positive, so there was a time when Joey was not such a bad boss and the studio was actually a good place to work at.

It's interesting that Sammy is hoping that Alice Angel will rival Bendy in popularity. It's almost as if Joey is trying to one-up Henry by creating a character that would overshadow the one created by his friend.

If we play the organs in this room 4 times, we can obtain the "Johnny's Broken Heart" Achievement. However, there is another file named "johnnysreturn", which refers to Bendy's spawnpoints, so it's possible that Johnny is not a name of an employee, but merely a pop culture reference.

Still, someone had to be using this organ, and someone has to be making these moans we can hear every time we push the keys. We may as well call him Johnny. The sound of the moans is very faint and distant, though, so it may be coming from another room. Maybe they don't like the noise?

Moving on to the room next to Johnny's, there are two things of note here. The first is this painting hanging on the wall, which is strikingly similar to one of the paintings in Joey's apartment. It's either a copy, or a hint of Joey's influence over the cartoon reality inside the studio.

The second thing of note in the room is this picture. The note attached to it suggests that Joey was unusually defensive over Bendy's design - specifically the part of Bendy's design contributed by himself.

Who could have drawn this sheet? The room doesn't seem to belong to any named character in the game and it's pretty far from the Art Department. The description of the Bendy novel implies that Sammy is going to be a major character, so Buddy has presumably spent a lot of time in the Music Department. As an aspiring artist, this may have been his work.

There's a burning candle right above the sheet. It seems that someone was looking at it not long ago, or perhaps they left it for us to see.

Right outside the room we find the puch card stand. It's curious for two reasons:

It's attached to an ink pipe, similarly to the pedestals back in Chapter 1

The card has Henry's name on it. This is true for every such stand we find in the game, even though Henry left long before the lower levels were built. The canonicity of the stands is dubious though, so I’m not going to theorise about them.

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #joey drew #susie campbell #henry stein #one eyed bendy #batim #batim chapter analysis

66 notes · View notes

subukunojess · 5 years

Text

Someone Else’s Gloves

AO3 Link - FanFiction Link - DeviantArt Link

Bad Things Happen Bingo

@badthingshappenbingo

Trope/Prompt: Chained To A Bed

Fandom: Bendy And The Ink Machine

Main Character: Henry

Triggers: Abuse mention, mild violence

Words: 3,172

Hey everyone! It’s been a while since I have written in a long time. This summer has become hectic for me and I hope to get a lot of writing done before my new fall semester. So, I would like to start out with my first entry for Bad Things Happen Bingo!

I requested a bingo card of 25 prompts filled with angst and I have decided on what stories to write for each prompt.

For “Chained To A Bed”, I immediately came up with Henry being chained up to a bed during a nightmare because it seemed natural to me and I haven’t seen any BATIM fics for Bad Things Happen Bingo yet (I believe?). I went with it and it took a while, but this came out.

About “Someone Else’s Gloves”: This is a part of a series for my AU called “Ink Gluttony” which is basically what happens when Joey makes a deal with a demon and Bendy is a demon of gluttony caught in the middle of chaos. This particular scene takes place between Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 of the game. Although the scene itself won’t be explored in the multi-chapter fanfiction “Ink Gluttony”, it will be explored in the prequel “The Real Demon”.

I tried my best with this and on a later date, I will put this through other media sources. Please tell me what you think and enjoy!

Henry laid on his cot, staring up at the ceiling until he became cross-eyed, forcing himself to close his eyes.

It was either a miracle or luck that he and Bendy came across Boris. If they hadn't, maybe the two would have succumbed to the madness of the studio or died trying to escape it. The wolf had immediately taken them to a bunker he was living in for a while now, complete with a kitchen, bathroom, storage room, and a clothing line to boot. Although Henry was wary at first, he was also grateful due to the current circumstances. It had been a few days since then and the three men spent the time so far recuperating and planning out their next course of action.

He couldn't help but worry about Bendy, however. Seeing the wolf's cheerful smile made toon's day as if seeing a lost old friend. Through the relieved facade of serene talks and the occasional card game, Henry was certain that Bendy was hiding something. At first, it was understandable. If Henry thought he were a living toon performer, he'd be more than shocked too if he suddenly remembered dark events in his past and met people that he once knew had completely changed. However, he couldn't help but feel that there was more to it. What exactly happened to the studio over the course of thirty years? Was it really Sammy, Jack, and the others back there or just an illusion? And what did the ink demon that he first met had to do with all this? Whatever the answer, Henry knew that he needed to rest his head first, so he left Boris and Bendy to spend some time together while he laid on his cot to nap. He had a feeling that this was his only chance of sleep. Before he knew it, Henry succumbed to the darkness of slumber.

When Henry woke up, the first thing he noticed was his limbs were outstretched to every corner of his bed. They felt numb, most likely due to his sleeping position. He lifted his body to sit up when he was stopped short by a jingling force. He opened his eyes and once he adjusted to the candlelit darkness, he found his wrists and ankles wrapped in shackles attached to chains that hung around each bed post. The mattress he was on was old and sturdy. Did something kidnap him from the safehouse, he wondered.

The room he was in was empty save for a desk and a chair right near the door on the other side of the room, two candles glowing dimly on either side of the desk with the melting wax holding them in place, and a broken flowerpot.

Henry gasped and shook the chains against the bedposts, grunting and groaning. He had to get out of there. He had to go back to Boris and Bendy! He pulled the chains again. Instead of rust and creaking noises, the chains seemed in good condition. Before he could stop to think, the door opened and something squelched into the room. Henry glanced up to see a figure covered from head to toe in dripping ink, wearing nothing but a workman's overalls and only having glowing yellow eye sockets on their face.

"Sammy...?" He muttered as he squinted. His head started to buzz and pulse, his vision and mind getting splotchy with ink blots, but he was still able to make out most of his surroundings. The being walked into the room, closing the door behind them. Their eyes were furrowed in a cross and tired expression as they took out a handkerchief from their pocket and wiped their forehead. Putting the cloth away, they focused on Henry and sighed.

"You shouldn't have done that. What have you done?"

It wasn't Sammy.

At first, Henry didn't know anything about this being. It, no he, was wearing some sort of... uniform? And his voice seemed familiar. For some reason, the name 'Thomas' kept repeating in his mind. Before he could process this, he blurted out almost unconsciously.

"What have I done? What about you?! You joined in too! How were we supposed to know?!" Henry protested, shaking the chains in disbelief.

"You're the closest to Jay. You were supposed to stop 'em from doing something we'd all regret!" Thomas slammed his fist into the wall closest to him, the room almost shaking at the impact. "And now the rest of the studio is paying the price for it!"

The ink man groaned in frustration and exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm down. "Damn it, she said it was just between the staff! To see if we could all create a cartoon ourselves without Joey... and what did she do? She decides to show it to everybody and their mother!"

Henry's eyes widened. From his experience working with his co-worker and writer, he remembered Jay Kasper talking about their dreams of creating a cartoon and getting public credit for it. They knew that it takes time for that to happen and with Joey Drew, you take what you get most of the time. When Henry left, Jay understood and seemed okay with it. What caused her to change her mind and react years after? Judging by Connor's reaction and information, it sounded like this cartoon was completely different than the ones either Joey or even the original team had come up with.

Henry didn't know whether this it was a dream due to the stress or a hallucination due to inhaling ink fumes. He wanted to convince himself not to pay any mind and ask for help, but he couldn't. Even if it were fantasy, this was close to direct information he could possibly get at this point in order to make some sense in the studio besides educated guesses. He went along with whatever he was spouting out.

"I didn't know she was going to do that. She told me it was just between us and the staff as well. Not like we coulda stopped her if we tried." Henry continued in thought. "Look, I know we haven't spent time together like the others have, but you've watched me for a long time. I didn't mean to do any harm. Not to you or Jay or all the other employees. You know that!"

Thomas held up a hand as if to protest, but he stopped after a moment and placed his hand down. Both his hands clenched and opened repeatedly, creating a steady rhythm. He stopped and pointed at Henry. “You’re dangerous, whether you meant to or not."

When Henry became silent, Thomas continued.

"...Ever since you showed up, Joey's going off the deep end! You don't know what really goes on when your back's turned, do you? This ain't a cartoon anymore, so grow up and face the facts. Drew's nothing but a two-faced liar who does things out of the blue for his own benefit!" Thomas snarled as he turned his back from Henry, but turned his head to the side to glare at him with glowing eyes. "The pipe's always bursting with so much ink, people are going missing almost every day, and he threatens us employees any way possible no matter what or who gets hurt. You think you're the only one he abuses?"

Lies? Missing? Abuse? Sure, Joey lied a couple of times and he pushed others hard, but the Joey Stein thought he knew would never go down that level. The evidence he had seen so far proved otherwise. However, the last question stuck to him. For some reason, anger boiled up in Henry's chest like ink rising along with his shock. Although his eyes were surprised, he was scowling.

"Cut the crap, Connor. I got an idea what's really going on." Henry sneered in a low hiss, causing Thomas to turn back to him with widened eye sockets. "I saw you putting those pipes in and standing from the sidelines. I saw you not saying a word when people went missing. I saw you helping him with the machine. He's sacrificing people, Thomas! How could you just stand around and go along with this?! If anything, you're just a sinner as Drew is!"

A pin dropped onto the floor.

A few seconds later, Thomas grabbed Henry by the neck, rattling the chains in the process. The repair man growled like a dog ready to pounce. Henry winced and attempted to turn his head away.

“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I have nightmares nearly every day?” His grip on Henry’s neck tightened, causing the other to cough and turn his head facing towards him. “You don’t think I tried to do something?! I did everything that was possible! I prevented accidents from happening. I covered for Jay and Wally as best I could. I was almost out of here ready to go to the authorities, so don’t tell me that I did nothing!”

Both men panted heavily while glaring at each other. After a minute, Thomas let go and sneered.

“… he has Allison.” He continued, his tone crying of defeat. He balled his hands into fists. “Half the time, I didn’t know what was going on like you did, so I went along with it. I promised to quit. To just get it over with. When I found out what was really going on, I wanted to fight and run. But Drew knew my weakness. You have Jay. I have Allison. If I became difficult, he promised to take my punishment out on her.”

Allison? Henry didn’t know anyone from the studio named Allison. One of the latest employees hired by Joey he guessed. Henry’s face softened. The ink being huffed and started storming out of the room. Before he could do so, he turned back one more time to see the other. For a second, Henry thought he saw a glint of a different emotion. Guilt? Whatever it was, it was diminished with the same cold glare and a voice dug deeper in the grave.

“To be frank, I don't care what happens to me at this point. I could be thrown straight down to Hell right now for what I did. I don't give a damn. As long as Allison is safe and outta Drew's hands, that's all that matters. It's nothing personal."

With that, Thomas left and slammed the door shut, leaving Henry in the dark.

Hours seemed to pass by as Henry regularly rattled his chains. By now, he was starving and tired.

"Help! Can someone get me out of here?! I'm sorry! Please!" He pleaded at the top of his lungs, hoping that anyone in the hallway would hear his screams. No one answered him. He struggled against his chains until his limbs became sore and he passed out a couple of times. He swore that while he was under, he felt someone touch him on his head gently and give him something to drink. He didn't know who it was nor did he had the energy to open his eyes.

After what seemed like days, Henry was luckily conscious when the door creaked open again. Instead of an inky person, it was an actual human in the studio. Henry smiled weakly and he was about to greet them in relief when his voice got caught in his throat.

There standing right by the bedside was Joey Drew himself, just like how Henry had seen him when he left the studio.

Well, almost.

Joey's short brown hair was a little unruly with some grey streaks here and there. The man had a cane that seemed like a plain brown cane except with intricate markings carved into it. Overall, Joey looked as if a bus hit him and he woke up fifty years later.

"J-Joey?" Henry managed to speak after a couple of stutters.

"Mr. Drew, if you please." Joey corrected coldly as he held a photograph in front of him. Henry couldn't make out what was on it. His former partner's posture was straight and business-like as usual whenever he showed himself in public, but his hand seemed to tremble, moving his cane slightly. Henry didn't know whether it was the body physically wearing down or a simple response to fear. Perhaps both.

"Drew, I-" He was about to explain when he felt ink bubbling up his throat and he gagged, coughing as he did so. Joey didn't respond much more than a hand hanging up briefly. He then put away the photograph and walked closer to Henry.

"Much more comfortable than the chair, I take it?" Joey asked, ignoring Henry's quiet choking. He grabbed one of the chains and pulled to see there was slack, then nodded.

"Your learning room is still under repairs. It'll be done by the time you're done with your ritual."

"Ritual?!" Henry exclaimed, then winced. His head began to throb as an emotion washed through his body. As if he weren't supposed to see this. His senses became delayed like missing film.

"Haven't you forgotten? All you need is the right soul and you'll finally be perfect. No more disobeying, bad habits, or flaws. Once you're perfect, you'll be our official star performer with your own dressing room and co-actors. You name it. It'll be our new legacy that gets us out of the red!" Joey laughed, his smile screamed of relief and madness. Henry was quiet for a moment before he chuckled as well, tears made of ink streaming out from his eyes.

"... Why, Joey? I... don't understand..." He whispered. Joey stared at him for a moment before he touched the tip of his cane to Henry's chin. Henry let out a muffled scream as the very touch burned his skin. Keeping his cane there, Joey took out a mirror from the desk, then lifted Henry's chin to the mirror's direction. Through the whimpering, Henry managed to make out his reflection.

Only to gasp and hold his breath.

Staring right back at him was the face of the ink demon that now roamed the empty halls of the studio from its pointy horns to the ink pouring down its forehead to the distorted spine and shoulders. The two features that were different were its frown and two orange dots near its forehead. Joey grimaced in disgust.

"You have his eyes, you know." Joey said in a calm tone, "He lied to the both of us. How you were absolutely perfect. How you'll be a star that stands out from the rest. Instead, he claimed you as his own creation in his image. He's not your creator. He just brought you to life and ruined it for the both of us!" He pressed hard onto Henry's neck, causing Henry to screech in pain. After a minute or two, Joey placed his cane back to the floor, leaving Henry panting. For a second, a smile graced his face. Then he put the mirror away and began to make his leave.

"It'll take us a while, but don't worry. I finally found the perfect candidate that'll fix everything he did to you. I'll tell you everything after the ritual becomes a success. Now be a good boy and stay quiet in here, won't you?" Not waiting for an answer, Joey left and locked the door.

It was then that Henry felt released from an invisible entity and he shouted in both confusion and leftover pain. Was this a memory or fantasy? Was that the real ink demon staring back at him through the mirror? Why was he shown this?

Crrrrrrrrrrrrrk.

Henry's thought process halted when he heard a loud creak above him. The ceiling above him started to give way. The man struggled and attempted to hop himself with the bed out of the room before hard material would fall upon him. Only a couple of boards fell from either side of him. As the ceiling crumbled and light gave way, Henry noticed large blobs of ink poking out from the corners. In a few seconds, the blobs pulled the entire ceiling out of the way and Henry was greeted by a large smile. The smile pulled away, revealing a huge head dripping with ink and horns sticking out from the top.

Oh.

Hell.

No.

The Ink Demon towered over the room, perhaps as tall as the Empire State Building itself even while in what seemed like seated position. It gurgled almost in a curious tone, its smile hiding any true emotions it was feeling at the moment.

Even if he wasn't chained to the bed currently, Henry would still be frozen and pale with his heart drumming against his chest. There was something about its smile, its hidden gaze towards him. His spine tingled. Enormous gloved fingers lowered and wrapped around his body, lifting him up from the bed and breaking his shackles in the process like pulling at a thread. Henry wiggled at the firm grip as the hand stopped at waist level.

The demon held up Henry's body gingerly, examining him as if it were a child discovering a new toy. It poked Henry's stomach with an ink finger a few times. It tossed Henry lightly in its hand, letting out a pleasant wheeze when the human yelped in fright. For a final measure, Henry was pulled towards its mouth. All eight teeth lifted up and a large blackish-purple tongue came out, dripping with what Henry hoped was ink. Before Henry could protest, the tongue pressed against him and dragged itself upwards. It licked him!

Henry coughed and gagged, spitting and shaking out the inky saliva from his body. The giant demon giggled in a deep yet high-pitched tone, almost amused at the display. Its right index finger hovered in front of the human and lifted his chin up, forcing Henry to make eye contact with the demon. It then spoke.

"Surprised, Henry?"

The demon had a dual tone for a voice. One layer was Bendy's voice, the same voice that Jay would imitate whenever they were drawing and coming up with ideas. Feminine, yet smooth with a bit of sass to it. The other layer was deep, loud, and low. Masculine with an accent. Combined together, it was an otherworldly demon.

Henry opened his mouth to speak, but only gurgles and gasps answered aloud. He panted heavily and his heart raced, but he caught his breath when he was lifted above the ink demon's head. The man looked down to see himself dangle above the giant's open mouth, pools of glowing orange ink seeping from the corners of its mouth.

"No, no, no, no, no, no...!" Henry muttered as he weakly struggled to break free. Without another second wasted, the fingers let go of his body and he fell right into the black and orange pool, sinking like a stone. Any light source he had was shut off completely as ink filled his lungs.

A loud gulp.

Then Henry's scream.

#Bad Things Happen Bingo #badthingshappenbingo #fanfiction #SNJstories #Bendy And The Ink Machine #Ink Gluttony #batim au #Henry Stein #Joey Drew #Thomas Connor #Ink Demon #Chained To A Bed #tw: abuse mention #tw: violence

9 notes · View notes

inkdemonapologist · 4 years

Note

After being with Joey, screwing up his relationship with Susie, and worshipping the Ink Demon, Sammy's probably got a REALLY skewed idea of what a healthy relationship and good boundaries should be. He let all three take from him while ignoring his own wants and needs (even though Susie was unaware). If/when he ends up with Jack there's probably a LOT of learning for the both of them.

I SUPER AGREE though I don’t know that I would describe him so altruistically; like, Sammy wants his own needs met and doesn’t know how to get what he wants except by attaching himself to someone that he thinks can meet those needs. I ran across an older yunisverse post the other day that described Sammy as a follower at heart who is a bad judge of character and like, I think that’s pRETTY SPOT ON. A lot of his decisions are selfish or made at least partially to save his own skin and put himself in a better position... he just keeps turning to people who will absolutely exploit his loyalty.

All of his “relationships” were either people in power exploiting/using him and him eventually being hurt and tossed aside, or him kinda using someone who answered to him and then hurting and tossing her aside, so uh, honestly I suspect Sammy would be very nervous about a relationship with Jack for A WHILE; like Jack is too chill to be the exploitive one so does that mean Sammy would be the one exploiting Jack if he let himself be in love with him??? tHATS THE ONLY PATTERN HE KNOWS

#local man confused by concept of relationship built on mutual love and respect more at 11 #i know you have questions you always do #Escape AU #technically??? since we're assuming theres a future for sammy here #sammy lawrence

80 notes · View notes

youllallriseintheink · 4 years

Text

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.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #breaking the time loop #my fanfiction #sammy lawrence #Allison Angel #susie campbell #sammy x allison angel

5 notes · View notes