Chapter Text

Chapter 4: The Animators’ Legacy

Henry and Linda Stein had been very fortunate nine years ago, when they brought into the world the most beautiful of creations: a baby girl. Henry had known love for many characters, they were his first children, but Eliza, his beautiful, human daughter, was something else. And just like with Bendy, Boris, and Alice, he didn’t determine her destiny: she did. Her smiles, her laughter, her sweet little babbling when learning to talk, her first steps, and many falls, were all her own. She was always very assertive of herself. Both parents loved her dearly. 

Joey loved her dearly too. It had been years since Henry left the studio, things were still a mixed bag, but Henry had still invited Joey to her christening. Of course, Joey could only catch the tail end, but just holding her in his arms the one time, when she tugged on his mustache and laughed when he yelped, he fell in love with her charm. She was an angel, the most beautiful angel to ever be. Even Alice couldn’t compare. So naturally, she wanted her as his heir, with no one else to give his life’s work to. 

Henry had been gone since the child was six years old. Three years, without a father, and in some ways, without a mother. Linda had been hard at work, providing for their broken home alone. She prayed Henry would come back to her, that it was all some cruel lie, but both of them had attended his funeral, he was gone. That was his handsome face in the casket, taken from them far too soon. Most of his animation students had been in attendance. Professor Stein, the best teacher they’d ever had, a whole generation influenced by his brilliance. He was more than the man who created Bendy, he was more than a teacher, more than a father, more than a best friend. He was a legend. 

Joey remembered lurking in the room that day, trying to hide the cruel smirk on his face as he looked upon the body, leaving those lovely orange lilies for his old friend. “Fear not,” he’d said to Linda, “He was a good man, his soul must be in the most fitting place of all, nothing else would do for a man of his talent.”

Of course, you and I know where his soul ended up. 

The golden specter hadn’t always been a ghost: for several loops he’d been as human as one could be in the studio. But the ink, being exposed to it for so long, it had to do what it always did. It had to digest him. It ripped the most essential pieces from his soul, leaving a replica of his body running around to do the story’s bidding, but the soul to suffer in silence. No one could see him, nor hear him, nor could he pull them from their places. He tried, heaven knows he tried! He tried to hold Alice back before she could ever lay a finger on his poor wolf, but he was never successful. She always slipped away. Boris was always made into a monster. He always grieved. He tried to shake Allison into remembering, he tried to free Norman from the awful machine imprisoning his skull, but nothing worked, he always failed. He always would. He’d regained his free will far too late to be able to fix this broken world, and it stung. Like a gaping wound with citric acid left to fester in it. 

But now, things were different. A few loops ago, he discovered Sammy could see him. And if Sammy could see him, he had a chance. He just needed to free the music director from the hold of the loop. If he could set him free, then they could get to the others. No one had a tongue as sharp as Sammy’s, and when he remembered the truth, he could send anyone spiraling with it. His flock would listen to him, they’d build an army, and army of Lost Ones and Searchers and Butchers, all those afflicted by the ink, build a bridge to safely get themselves to the machine, and tame the Beast. And they’d stop the story. No more loops, no more roles, they’d stop it dead in its tracks and force THE END to be the end. They would be free. Joey would lose. 

He only had so much time to finish it though. He knew that. Joey had one more soul to imprison in here, and once they were in, the story would be properly written, and they’d all be puppets for eternity. Though was that really a threat at this point? He was already a puppet. One could argue he always had been, if Joey was pulling the strings. It was hard to say.

But there the specter was, in the third chapter of Joey's narrative, watching his body rest with Boris. He hadn't known Boris watched him in his sleep until his body and soul had split. It was charming, knowing the wolf cared for him just as much as it was the other way around, but it only made his fate that much more sad. Boris didn't seem to be as stuck as he was, he at least had a few patterns of activities within the safe house. But this loop, he saw something different. 

Never before had Boris pulled out a sketchbook.

Frankly, it was amazing to see the wolf drawing anything. Henry didn't think he could with those massive gloved hands. But there he was, and his work was...it was beautiful. One might've equated him to almost being a professional animator. There were so many doodles in his book: adventures with him and Bendy, Alice having a grand old time on stage, him and Edgar sharing a pie, but the most interesting one wasn't really a toon at all. That is to say, she was cartoony in style, but she felt...more real, than the others. It was difficult to describe. She felt like someone you'd run into on the street, someone that would help you if you took a dive on the sidewalk. She had big rosy cheeks bordered by soft curls, and cat-like glasses that shielded her sparkling eyes. There was a pen tucked behind each ear, and another tucked into her bun. Who needed that many pens? Then he remembered David doing the same thing when they first met. Joey always bought those cheap pens for lining, they exploded in his hair all the time. How they'd laugh about it. He missed Dave, it'd been forever since they'd seen each other. 

Henry hadn't thought about that in a while, all the old animators that worked here. He and Dave were most of the team in the early days, then there was Abby, who was the glorified coffee runner. But Henry knew better. He'd sneak her some animation work now and again, took the time to teach her everything she knew. And after the war happened, he remembered getting letters from her, letters about how she'd become the head of the department. Man, did that make him smile to see Joey finally giving the women a chance. Abby was such a bright light, such a great kid, even though she was far from being a kid anymore. If not for her, he may never have discovered his calling as a teacher. He'd done so well with that, lighting sparks in all of those kids. They'd all gone on to do wonderful things, several had worked under the greatest animation studios to ever be. A few had even made it to JDS and succeeded, though lord knew their hours were tough. 

He stopped and wondered for a moment: were they in here too? Sammy had said before that there was only one soul not accounted for, but what exactly did that mean? Did Joey have a hitlist, or was it more broad? Was...was everyone from the studio here, all the workers? Every single employee? Had he...had he killed Abby? Dave? His students too? Had he killed that kind old receptionist? Had he taken every last intern? All of them? There wasn't much that surprised the old man anymore, but that? That struck a nerve. He'd never seen any of them on his loops. Or had he? They could be anything! The searchers, the lost ones, the Butcher Gang? Anything! And that only made it worse, they could've died by his own hands and been none the wiser! His body dripped a little faster. Even though a ghost had no need for air, he was hyperventilating. 

"No! No I couldn't have, I-I don't want to-I never MEANT to! Joey why? WHY?" 

And that’s when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“B-boris? But...how?”

The wolf gave him a knowing look. But at that moment, something was off. For once Boris...didn’t feel the way he usually felt. There was something pained in his pie cut eyes, something much deeper, and much more empathetic, than Henry had come to know. 

“H-how can you see me? I thought...I thought only Sammy could-”

Another hand gripped his shoulder. Boris shook his head. He was at a loss for words, not that he could say anything to begin with, but it looked like he wanted to. He looked down at the floor, where another message had been etched in gold. ‘I’m sorry buddy,’ it said. Boris seemed...hurt, by the sentiment. He let go of the specter’s shoulders and stood up, quietly tiptoeing past the old man’s animated corpse, to fetch something from his suitcase. What he pulled out left Henry confused.

It was a manuscript, one he handed to the ghost insistently. The ghost gingerly took it from his hands and looked at the first page. 

“Buddy...Buddy Lewek? Who’s that?” Henry asked. Boris looked back at him, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed. 

“Well what do you expect? Just because I worked here once doesn’t mean I know everyone who did, this fella was probably after my time.”

Boris held his head in his hand, exasperated. No monkeying around this time, he only had so long before the wolf woke up again. He struggled to flip the book to the last page, stabbing his finger insistently at the last few paragraphs. Henry read them. And he gasped, nearly dropping the manuscript before fumbling it back into his hands. 

“No way, so you’re...you’ve never been Boris, you’re...you’re Buddy? 

The wolf teetered his hand up and down like a see-saw, as if to say, “Sort of.”

Henry felt awful, why had he never found this manuscript before? Did Joey know it was here?

“How did you even write this with such big hands? How can you draw like that? Goodness, I’m so sorry, I did the glove thing to make animation easier, if I’d known this was gonna happen, I would’ve made something more function.” 

The wolf covered his mouth, slight wheezing escaped through the cracks. Was he trying to laugh? He’d never laughed the whole time Henry knew him. Boris had always been dull, but this character, Buddy, had a sense of humor, he was so animated! And that only made Henry love him more. The wolf took his sketchbook and flipped to a blank page. 

“I question it too, don’t worry. I’m sorry we’ve never met before, I’ve been asleep for so long, Boris hasn’t let me remember in forever.”

“Asleep? What do you mean asleep?”

“Read the book. I can’t remember much anymore, but it’s all in there. Boris, he shares my head, but he’s not good at sharing.”

“...Then why is he letting you talk now?”

“Because Henry’s not here. He says he doesn’t wanna be here without him.”

“But...but I’m Henry.” 

“He doesn’t know that.” Buddy shook his head. “But I’m not tellin’ him, I have to remember, I have to get out and find Dot!”

“Dot? Who’s Dot?”

The wolf flipped the page over and pointed to the sketch of the girl again, the one with the glasses. “Dot” he wrote, right next to her portrait.”

“Oh Buddy...I don’t know where she is. I don’t know if you can even leave, I’m never able to without Boris with me.” 

“Well that’s garbage!” He scribbled, “Why can’t I go? Please, come with me, we’ll go together and find her! She’ll know how to fix this! She’s good at finding answers!”

“Buddy, I...I don’t think she’s in here. I’ve been trapped in this studio on a cyclic nightmare for who knows how long, we all have. I’ve never seen her, not once. I get to the end of the story, just for it to repeat again, nothing ever changes.” 

“Well I’m here now, that can’t be the same right? Please, help me Henry! I need to find her and turn off that machine!”

That struck something. 

“I...I can’t.” 

“Why-”

Henry slammed his hand down on the table. “I can’t! I’m the idiot who was tricked into turning it on, there’s no way to access the controls now! It’s all the way at the top, and even if you did find a way, the demon would smother you!” He held his face in his hands, hopeless and dripping all over again. “There’s nothing I can do...nothing that can fix this.”

“Henry please...I don’t know how much longer I’ll be myself. I have to try and do something.”

“But why?”

“Read the book. You’ll know exactly why. I still have a reason to have hope.”

The wolf stood up from the table and went to the trunk under his hammock. He pulled it out and lifted the top, revealing a plethora of supplies inside. Clock pieces, radio parts, bones, wrenches, and a miner’s hat. 

“Buddy, what are you doing?!”

The wolf merely ignored him as he walked towards the door, the hat firmly on his head. If the specter wouldn’t help him, then he’d help himself. No way was he staying here. But the minute he tried to open the door, it all went to hell. A shimmery golden light burned him right off and sent him reeling back onto the floor. So he got up and tried again. Same result, he got fried and sent right back down. But he kept getting back up, banging against the door and struggling with all his might. 

The effort was futile.

“I told you, the loop won’t let us disobey, we’re stuck doing what Joey’s written for us…”

The wolf, no, Buddy, looked up at Henry, tears in his eyes. He rubbed at his face, trying to get them to stop falling, but they wouldn’t slow, they wouldn’t stop! He was bawling on the floor. He just wanted to go home! He wanted to see his mom, and his grandpa, and Dot and Jacob and all of them! But they were gone, they were probably long gone, his family probably was for as long as he’d been here. Jacob was dead, he knew he had to be. But Dot...Dot he had hoped for. 

And then it occurred to him. If he was a cartoon character...and he was still here...for a moment he had a glimpse back to that fateful day, his last day as a human. It brought him chills to think about it, but he had to, he had to remember. Jacob had sacrificed himself for them, he’d made sure he stayed unconscious so Dot and him wouldn’t get hurt. He’d been imprisoned in ink, so had Norman and Dave...Maybe...maybe he was still down here. Maybe all of them were. Norman, yes, Norman knew everything about the studio! If he could find Norman, or a piece of him, maybe they could figure it out! He scurried back to the desk. 

“Okay, I can’t leave, but that’s not gonna stop me! When the next story beat comes, I need you to stay with me, okay?”

“What? What are you talking about-”

“Stay with me. If the story has repeated that much, you can help me, we’ll see just how much we can break it before I’m forced back again.”

“Why? What are you trying to accomplish here?”

“I have some friends, from back when this whole thing happened. If I can find them, maybe we can get their help. Please, I need to find them.” 

Henry was reluctant to reply. How long before Buddy was gone again? How long before Boris was back? Why was there such a breach in the first place? Did he do this? Was his spirit messing with the story? 

Could that...could that be enough to fix things? It was worth a shot. He’d have to try. If they just pushed a little, it could move mountains. He’d just have to be careful.

“Alright, I’m in. Let me get through as much of your book before he wakes up, then we’ll figure this out.”

Buddy threw his hands up in the air in a silent cheer, celebrating their teamwork before hugging the ghost tightly. Henry chuckled and ruffled up what little fur was on his head. 

“Alright kiddo, you go get used to moving around, enjoy your mind while you’ve still got it. I’ve got some catching up to do.”

“You’ve got it Henry!”

Little did Henry know what kind of horrors awaited him in those pages.

___

He wasn’t the only one reading tonight. Inside the Drew apartment, a little girl with long ginger hair was resting against her uncle’s shoulder, as he read to her a lovely little tale about a dancing demon building a snowman. Not to toot his own horn, but Drew had squeezed a lot of profit out of his shorts, taking the best frames and putting them into picture books for the children. Bendy’s tales had charmed his niece for a long time. Eliza always asked for them on the nights when she missed her father most. 

“Uncle Joey?” She rubbed her eyes and leaned on him even more.

“Yes my angel?”

“Is Daddy with all his friends in heaven?”

“His friends?” Joey asked.

Eliza nodded, yawning again. “Does he get to visit Bendy and Alice, and -yawn- Boris too?”

“Oh I’m sure they’re taking good care of him up there my dear. Boris is a loyal wolf, your father could always count on him for a good laugh.” He said tenderly.

“I’m glad,” Eliza closed her eyes, warm against his side. “He shouldn’t have to be alone up there.” 

Joey felt a pang of guilt for that. He knew why she was worried about Henry’s loneliness. She was lonely without him, he’d never been enough to fill that space in her heart, to be her real parent. His jealousy only grew. But soon it wouldn’t matter, soon she’d be his, and she would love him more than she ever had Henry. She wouldn’t be alone, they’d have a family again, a loving, robust family with a legacy the world would remember. 

Belphene sat at the foot of the bed, smiling softly at the child. “Now now princess, time for you to head off to the land of sugarplums.” 

The demon and Mr. Drew got up, carefully adjusting the tiny girl to lay on the pillow, a plush wolf secured in her arms, held onto so tightly that it had no hope of going anywhere. Joey smiled and left a kiss on her brow. 

“Goodnight darling, sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight Uncle Joey, g’night Miss Belphy…” No sooner had she rolled over, then she was out like a light. A perk of having a demon as your assistant babysitter, very sound sleep. 

The two stepped out and sat at Joey’s table. Belphene marveled at the arts and crafts that were left behind. Eliza was getting so much better, her pictures were delightful, worthy of hanging on the fridge for sure. 

“So, how did things go today? Did you find him?” Mr. Drew inquired. 

“Splendidly sire. You found yourself quite a lucky catch, she’ll be perfect for the job.” She snapped her fingers and reached into a void, as though it were a deep pocket, before pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to the gentleman. “They were quick to give me the proper piece, we can absolutely work with this.” She opted to let him review the illustration while she put the kettle on, ready for some nice hot chocolate after a long day’s work. 

“My goodness, he’s a marvel! Just look at this crisp linework, the forms! This will be perfect, the perfect replacement! Belphene you’ve outdone yourself, brava, brava!” He grinned over the piece, admiring how wonderfully Bendy was drawn here, so happy consuming that lovely ice cream sundae. It made him hungry just looking at it. It was made with such love, you could just tell from how carefully it was all handled, time was taken to make it perfect. 

Belphene smiled, but it was quick to falter. “There’s just, one thing Mister Drew. They’re um...well, you really shouldn’t call them a ‘he.’”

“Praytell, why not? They were a strapping young lad, just like I was back in the day!”

“Mister Drew...Bryan’s real name isn’t Bryan.”

“Then what is it? It’s probably something far fancier, isn’t it? Like Horatio, or or Augustus or-”

“Bella.”

“...What?”

“Her name is Bella.”

“Bella...Bella? But then...that means…”

“Yes, I know. It’s not what you’d planned on, but-”

“It’s not a perfect match then. Would Henry even be okay with that?”

Belphene scrunched her nose at that. What a stupid notion, Joey hadn’t cared what Henry thought since they were children. He knew what the old man was getting at, and it was frankly disgusting. 

“You shouldn’t let something as insignificant as genitalia get in the way of your plans, Master. She’s got the skills you want, that’s what’s important.”

“I know, I know Belphene, that’s the important piece. I just worry, with how time has progressed, will anyone take an animation company seriously with a woman as a lead animator?”

“Why wouldn’t they? You didn’t get any flack for Lambert.”

“Most people didn’t know about Lambert, the credits never displayed her name that way.” He sighed. “Well at least they sign their work as Bryan, maybe she’ll be willing to continue.”

Belphene was saddened by that. Her contractor had always been stubborn, but this was ridiculous, even for him. Some days she wondered if he took her seriously, if he would’ve handled their contract differently if she’d been more masculine. But that wasn’t important right now. She’d find a way to let Bella be herself in all this. It’s what...Henry would want. Why should she care what Henry would want? Maybe it was because...she wanted it too. But there were reasons for her to care. Lots of reasons. 

It’s always dangerous when a demon cares.