Chapter Text

It was a brisk day for spring, just a little too cold to go outside without a proper jacket. Unfortunately for Mr. Drew, his was in need of repairs, with its tattered tailcoats and elbow patches in need of replacement, but that wouldn’t stop him from taking his morning stroll. It wasn’t like anyone recognized his old, wrinkled face anymore, they would never know that he had once been so high up and fallen into ruin, so a tattered jacket made no difference, did it?

He wandered down the same sidewalk that kept his feet steady for decades, his weathered cane clacking against the concrete as he went. He avoided the cracks in a masterful manner without having to look at the ground below, knowing full well where it was safe to step. He sighed as he watched the world around him, so old and yet so new in all that flourished within it. There were many sights to behold on this simple little street. A few stray children playing hookie as they rushed to the candy store, the kindly old custodian putting up new signs for the corner store, a dapper young chap waltzing out of the barber’s, oh yes, all of them were quite beautiful. 

But the real attraction of this old road was the old cinema. It was one of the few things the old man still regarded as precious after all this time. Back in the 30s, the theater had been kind enough to air his old team’s first cartoon. For a nickel, so many children would come to see their flicks, his masterpieces, and stare in awe at the characters that danced upon the screen. He smiled to himself at the memory. The stars in their eyes were enough to light up the entire world. Even old Mr. Polk, who lived in darkness more often than not, always found himself warmed by their sense of wonder. They made every tough part of the job worth it. 

A shame it had to end. Joey Drew Studios had been closed for a few years at this point, its final projects still sitting incomplete on a drawing table back in Mr. Drew’s apartment. He tried to work on it a little bit every day to get the last cartoon complete, but it was a tedious process, and his arthritis only allowed him to do so much. Hence why he went for this walk every day, to rest his wrists and take in the fresh air. 

He slowly approached the cinema, gazing upon the incandescent bulbs that glowed softly through the dreary cloud cover. A young lad clad in a worn pageboy cap was high up on a ladder, changing out the letters to tell the world of all the new shows coming to the cinema. The colorful posters that lined the building elaborated on those messages, showing live action films and a whole slew of new cartoons that brought in the new era of animation. Joey had stuck to the old style of rubberhose, but he would admit that the 60s styles were something to behold. What he wouldn’t give to be able to make something that spiffy. 

Lost in his daydreams, he neglected to look where he was going. And thus he bumped into the ladder the worker was on. Already precariously perched, they’d been trying to get the last “e” up, but their balance was thrown off. They tumbled off the ladder and came crashing into the pavement. 

Crack .

Mr. Drew hurried to their side, his eyes wide and afraid. He immediately checked the lad for injuries and was shaken to discover their broken leg. There were tears upon their face, stuttered thoughts that wouldn't come out right, and an aura of horror and shock that wracked their tiny frame. Mr. Drew called out for help, running inside the theater to find a telephone, a worker, anyone who could assist. He couldn't live with this happening again.

-Flashback-

“Henry! Henry I'm so sorry! Jack, get Lawrence to call the hospital! Franks, you're with me, get him to the sick bay.”

Wally struggled to keep up with Joey as he hurried to lift the reckless animator up. Drew had his upper half while Wally took the lower, mindful of Henry's broken ankle. Who knew how much was broken? It was all Franks’ fault, Joey kept telling himself. If he hadn't startled Henry while he was grabbing the ink vials, everything would've been fine. But no, now his top animator was injured and probably wouldn't be able to finish the shot for another week, their deadline would be missed. Joey cursed under his breath, heaving as they carried to man onto the bed in the infirmary. He'd taken a nasty blow to the head on the way down. His shirt had gotten drenched in ink from the spill too, another load of supplies wasted for the month. Joey only grew more cross. 

“Oh dear, what happened?” 

Their nurse on site, Gen, was quick to get to work, filtering out Joey's barking as she went about her business. He ranted and raved as she looked over Henry's head and bandaged up his ankle, making sure it would be held steady for the arriving authorities. 

"I simply don't understand how you could be so clumsy Franks. This is going to put us back for weeks!" Drew sneered, glaring at the janitor.

Wally snapped back to look at him, nothing but red in his vision. "How the heck is this my fault? He was the one perched in ways he ain't 'sposed to be!"

"But YOU knocked him over!"

"Not on purpose! There's a ton of traffic in that hallway Mistah Drew, anyone could've ended up like this.”

“Nonsense, that’s all you’ve got to offer! Pure nonsense!” He snarled.

Joey grabbed the janitor by the ear and dragged him back up the stairs, shoving him into the supply closet. 

“Now get back to work, I’m paying you to clean up the messes, not make more of them!” 

Wally huffed, fixing his cap and rubbing his sore ear before he grabbed his mop. He hurried off to go clean the ink spill, muttering under his breath all the while. 

Meanwhile, Joey hurried back to Henry’s side. His demeanor quickly shifted to be far more compassionate. After all, Henry was a dear friend, how could he not care for someone that had such a deep history with him? He looked at his friend’s tired face, his eyes hiding behind heavy lids. Just what had he been thinking, why didn’t he ask for help? Isn’t that what the interns were for? Whatever the case may have been, he had to make sure he was okay. He couldn’t lose him. 

Sammy Lawrence entered the infirmary, fidgeting with his suspenders as he walked in. “Medical team should be in soon, they’re on their way.” He shook his head and held a hand to his temples. “How far is this gonna put us behind?” 

“Too far. We’ll have to pull overtime again to make it work.” 

Sammy sighed. “You really need to bring on more hires, this is getting to be too much for us.”

“We can’t afford it Lawrence.” Joey took off his glasses and cleaned them with the bottom of his dress shirt. “Not with the current state of affairs. I’ve had Cohen rework the numbers for me a million times, we can’t afford anything without another corner cut.” He threw all of his weight onto a nearby chair, his face in his hands. “Of all the times, why now? Why does something always have to go wrong whenever we’re close to finishing a masterpiece?” 

Lawrence shuffled across the room and sat beside his boss, wrapping an arm around his side. “Artists all throughout history had to deal with trials like this, we’re fortunate that this one can be overcome.” He gave the man’s shoulder a firm pat before gripping it. “We’ll get there, it’ll be fine. We just have to believe, right?” He smirked, but it wasn’t one of his usual smug smirks. No, this one felt playful, maybe even a little devious. It was clear working on the tracks for the little devil had influenced him, just a little. 

And it was no sooner than when he had lightened the mood that Henry slowly woke up. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to gauge where he was. He tried to sit up, but Joey was quick to leap from his seat and gently force him back down. 

“Ah ah ah, no straining yourself Stein.” Joey looked him dead in the eye. “You hurt yourself, the medics are on their way to fix you up.” 

Two amber eyes rolled as he smirked up at his partner in crime. “You worry too much, you know that? Have a little faith.”

-Flashback end-

It was hard to have faith sometimes, especially when things were so quick to spiral into disaster. But he had to believe that this would be alright. He had done all he could.

Joey stayed with the worker while he waited for help to come, trying to calm them down, apologizing profusely for his mistake. They wouldn’t stop crying though, their voice cracking several times. They made sure not to move their leg, but they seemed to be eager to get something out of their apron pocket.

“What do you need?” Joey asked.

They pulled at their pocket, trying to take a small book from it. Their hands were too shaky to get a good grip. Joey carefully helped them to remove it. The worker held the book close to their chest, hugging it for dear life, as though that would make everything better. After a moment, they opened it to the inside cover. Joey couldn’t help but be curious, he hadn’t seen someone so attached to something like this before. It was like a child with their favorite stuffed animal. But what he saw in that book made him pale. 

What he saw was an opportunity of a lifetime, one he couldn’t afford to lose.

“Thank you.” They whispered. 

Their voice was quiet, so soft and delicate, like an angel’s feathers brushed against one’s cheek. But not long after the phrase was uttered, the medics arrived, lights flashing, to take them away. The team was quick in their work, Joey could only step aside and watch as a small smile saw him  off from afar. Once the worker was out of sight, Joey went back inside the cinema and got ahold of the ticket salesman. 

“That worker, the one who just went off, what was their name?” He asked. 

The ticket salesman wiped his nose with his sleeve, rolling his eyes at the question. “Just Bryan, nobody worth carin’ for.” The boy blew a bubble from his gum and crunched it back down with a firm ‘pop.’ “Don’ see why you care so much about ‘im, if anything, ya just made the boss’ job easier.” 

Joey raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, Bryan’s been in hot watah for a while, rumor has it he’s a crossdresser. Boss’s been tryin’ tah get ridda him for a while, now he’s got ‘im. Shame though, he always did bring nice baked goods from his gal tah share.” The worker shook his head. “People seem tah be so wrapped up in themselves these days, can’t get their heads outta their rears. So what if he wears dresses outside ‘ah work, still goes above and beyond to make things run around here.”

Joey frowned at that. What a narrow worldview that was, what an awful boss. He knew the ownership had been transferred over to someone else since the time of his contracts with the theater, but this was inexcusable. How could anyone be so heartless to such a loyal and obedient employee? Then again, he came from a different time. The Depression turned many people cruel and volatile, but some knew better and stood together to get through their struggles. Times weren’t as tough now, but boy, to have someone that was good at their job was a blessing. A shame people were so ignorant. He wouldn’t stand for it. 

Mr. Drew tugged a ratty old notebook and a pen from his breast pocket, furiously scribbling down his contact information before ripping the sheet out. He handed it to the ticketmaster. 

“Could you please give this to Bryan once he’s better?” Joey asked.

The ticketmaster raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. “You say that like he’s ever gonna come back.” 

Joey looked to him with pleading eyes. “Please, this is my fault, I have to amend it somehow.” He reached through the ticket opening a little more to push the note further. 

The worker sighed and placed a hand on it, his sausage fingers came into contact with the letters and numbers. But before he could do anything else, he froze. Joey looked to him, an ethereal glow creeping into his lavender eyes. An orange ring formed in his inner iris, a few black cracks creeping in from under his hairline. 

“Sorry about this.” He grinned, a pleasantly devious grin, wider than the Cheshire cat’s. “I just need to be sure this goes the way it should.” 

He leaned in a little closer. The only thing that separated them was the protective layer of glass. He could hear the worker hyperventilating, sweat pouring from his brow to the front of his greasy shirt. It was horribly claustrophobic. 

“So you’re going to answer this for me. What are Bryan’s full name and address? You’ve made it clear I can’t trust you to carry out a favor, so now we have to do this the hard way.” 

The ticketmaster gulped frightfully. He opened his mouth to answer the question, but the feeling of squishiness in his hand caught him off guard. His eyes widened in fright at the sight of ink crawling up his arm. It wrapped itself around his limb in virus-like tendrils, creaking its way up until there was a small glob over his lips. His eyes faded away, until they were filled with nothing but a dead blackness. The ink over his mouth settled into a dark lipstick. When the ink finally allowed him to speak, he was monotone, robotic and broken with no life in his voice.

“Bryan Ewe, lives at 414 Breckenridge Ave.” 

“Breckenridge?” Joey tapped his chin in thought. “Right by Marianno’s Pizzeria, yes?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” 

Joey smirked, his teeth glimmering in the limited light of the booth. “Thank you my good sir. Here’s wishing you a pleasant rest of the day.” 

With the hand of a skilled conductor, Joey signaled the ink to end its hold on the young man. As it returned to its paper, the ticketmaster held his head, dizzy and confused. What had just happened? It was unclear whether or not he knew. He ignored Joey’s departure as he put the note in his pocket. Who knows? Maybe it would make its way to Bryan after all. Something told him he would need to be rid of it sooner rather than later. 

Joey hummed to himself as he continued down his route. There were still a few hours left before his niece would come to visit, perhaps he should grab some more chocolate chips, make her favorite cookies that afternoon. That would be splendid. Maybe he’d even have some tea for Linda to take on the road for her meeting tonight. That would be a nice change of pace. 

But most importantly, he had some planning to do. A horrible accident had become the start of a new scheme, a plan that would bring him back to the top where he belonged. Yes, Giuseppe Drew would rest at nothing to make sure this worked. After all, it's not every day you find an artist with the same muse as yourself. This was his last chance. 

He couldn't revive the dancing demon alone. 

Chapter Text

Joey returned to his humble abode a little after twelve thirty. More than ready for lunch, he lugged his groceries into the kitchen and laid the bags out on the counter top to sort and put away. Milk and juice in the fridge, Italian bread on the countertop by the oven, chocolate in the cupboard with the flour and sugar, cans of beans and tomatoes went in the corner cabinet, the one with the Lazy Susan. 

Pfft, Lazy Susan, what a marvelous contraption. But Susan wasn’t lazy, oh no, she was quite a gal, an ingenious invention really. She spun the cans and other goods around so they were easier to reach, so nothing got caught in the back of the cabinet. If only her axel hadn’t gotten so bent out of shape, she was almost perfect, just slightly flawed. But still Joey kept the thing as it was. It was an excellent storage space after all, perfect for holding his favorite soups.

He retrieved an older can of crushed tomatoes from the back and a pot from the bottom drawer, under the stove. He began his work at making lunch, whistling while he prepped the ingredients. Carrots and celery were chopped, beans were washed, and cans were emptied into the pot. A pan sizzled behind him, engulfing the kitchen in a smoky, cherrywood aroma. 

“Ooooh, is that bacon I smell darling?”

That was enough to summon her. A shadow seeped into the kitchen from the filing room, a burnt smog that leaned against the doorway. It was quick to take a shape, curving into the figure of a young woman. Her hair floated behind her as she walked towards the man, a wispy ponytail as dark as midnight. It complimented her caramel skin, which was dotted with sparse, star-like freckles. While her makeup suggested a seductive personality, with full eyelashes and luscious lips, her pumpkin eyes showed delight and playfulness. But most intriguing were the graceful arcs of the sheep horns jutting out of her skull. Yes, she was an ethereal beauty, clad in a charcoal dress that was more fitting for a flapper than it was a demonic entity. 

“Ah, Belphene, good to see you.” 

Joey smiled at the sight of her. He latched onto his cane and hobbled over to the demon, who was quick to embrace him in a tender hug. She left a small peck on his forehead, not a hard feat given she was far taller than him. They both chuckled. 

“A pleasure to see you as well Mr. Drew. I take it things have been going well lately?” Belphene asked. 

“They’ve been alright. Had a little accident this morning, but let me tell you, it was a wonderful discovery. I think we may have a new contract to negotiate my dear.” 

Joey beamed with excitement at the notion before heading back to his spot in the kitchen to flip the bacon. Belphene took a seat at the table, one leg crossed over the other as she stroked her chin in thought. 

“Oooh, a new project? Sounds delicious.” She licked her lips, her tongue crossing over her fangs. “You do plan on paying me a lot sooner for this one, don’t you Drewby?”

Joey stirred his pot and banged the spoon on the rim to rid it of the excess. “Of course. I’ve kept you waiting far too long on the first few, this will be a much quicker deal. After all, it involves bringing in a new business partner.” 

Belphene couldn’t help but perk up at that. “A new partner you say? Praytell, who is it you want to bring into our little agreement? That’s so unlike you.” 

Joey turned to her, his face beaming. “A brilliant young man from the local cinema, Bryan Ewe. He seemed to be a custodian at first, but mark my words, that lad is an artist! He’s exactly the kind of fellow I need to carry on the JDS legacy.” 

“That old talk again?” She shook her head and stifled a giggle. “Come on now Mr. Drew, you’ve already been immortalized among the greats. Why, I promised your work would be remembered throughout animation history, enjoyed by thousands. What more of a legacy could you possibly have?” 

“One where Bendy doesn’t get halted in production.” 

Joey finished adding the ingredients and turned the burner down to a simmer. He hurried to Belphene’s side and gripped her clawed hands in his, so soft and calloused from years of work. 

“I have to show you, you must see their work for yourself.” 

The demon laughed. “Alright, alright, settle down silly. So long as my lunch isn’t burnt, I’m willing to look, just this once.” 

Belphene brought him into the chair next to her and pulled them close together. She placed her forehead against his. Both closed their eyes. He smiled, recalling the wonderful memory of this morning.

The ambulance sirens were just as real as they were in the moment. Through his mind’s eye, she could see it just as he did, the poor fella stuck on the pavement, so small and yet so brave. And then she saw his sketchbook. She grinned in delight. The inside cover was littered with Bendy’s visage. The demon ran, jumped, and danced all over the page, combined with several more cartoons. Alice, Boris, each and every face of the Butcher Gang. Even the background characters made an appearance, along with several that had to be of his own creation. But then something caught her attention, something that made her heart heavy. A crumpled photograph that had been carefully glued in the middle, a man with a sickly face stared back at them, a small child in his arms. Both looked so happy.

The caption read as follows: 

“To my dearest child: 

May the road you travel on be as kind as you are. 

May your path never be lonely as you greet the world. 

I have utmost faith in your journey,

You will find your masterpiece. 

As Cherie would say, encuentra tu felicidad.

We all believe in you.

Love,

Dad.”

But underneath, something else was scribbled in cursive.

“In Memory of Mark Ewe.”

Belphene gently separated her forehead from Joey’s. Her heart was filled with grief. It was clear the years had been smudged out, but it looked as though Mark had died fairly recently. 

“Joey, are you sure about this?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? They draw beautifully, more than well enough for what we need.” 

Belphene played with her hair as she spoke. “You’re...planning on saddling an orphan with the studio. A young orphan. And if I’m understanding this correctly...you wish for them to take your place once your time is up. Right?”

Joey nodded. “I know for certain they’re the right hands to leave this in. Something about them just calls to me Belphy, he’s the one, he’s got to be!” He turned and hurried back to his stove to take off the soup. “Besides, they seem nice enough. I’m sure he’d provide enough sustenance for you to last a long time.” 

Belphene sighed. “I know you mean well Mr. Drew, really I do. I’m sure they’re wonderful, but we can’t be so rash this time. After what happened with-” 

“Don’t you speak of that.” He interrupted. His eyes were cold as he looked back at the demon. “I get it, it was a horrible mistake to let him in on the deal, it’s not my fault he changed.” He glared down at the pot, gripping the sides of the counter to keep himself upright. He whispered through gritted teeth. “He stopped being the man I knew, stopped being dependable...” 

But he turned back to her, cheery as ever. “But this will be different! We’ve learned from our past mistakes. I’m certain Mr. Ewe will be just fine, but we’ll make sure to test him before pulling out any strings.” 

Joey finished up the soup and brought the pot to the table, while Belphene grabbed a few bowls and spoons from the cupboard. Both sat themselves down once the table was set. A prayer to the unholy Lucifer was said before either one took a bite. Belphene was the first to raise the spoon to her mouth, not bothering to blow on it. 

“Excellent work as usual sir.” She smiled appreciatively.

Mr. Drew bowed his head. “My pleasure milady.” He stirred his bowl a little while she ate. “But back on the subject, I do need to scrounge up some funds to take them to dinner. If I’m to interview the boy for the position, it must be done right.”

Belphene took another slurp of her soup. “Where were you thinking?”

“Marianno’s, the pizzeria on Brecken, it’s right where they live apparently. After what that snotty teenager at the ticket booth told me, I’m willing to bet they don’t go there often, probably can barely afford the rent in that district.” Joey rolled his eyes, irritated to the point of hypocrisy.

“How dreadful,” the demon pouted, “A shame the angels can’t be bothered to pity them. So much for guarding those that need it.” 

“It really is. I doubt I ever had one watching over me.” He yawned in the most joking manner he could manage. “But I’m glad none of them ever wasted my time, otherwise I wouldn’t have you.”

“Aw, Drewby, you flatter me.~” She giggled as she stirred her spoon, fishing for some of the bacon bits. “Mari’s is a decent way to start I suppose, pizza is always a safe bet. Are you sure you’re okay with the price though? They’ve gotten outrageous, chargin’ way too much for a pie.” 

“You have a point.” Joey took another bite before tapping his chin. “Hmm. Would it be too soon to go to their house, maybe bring a home cooked meal? Or maybe invite them here?” 

“That’s pretty direct, maybe not the best method.” Belphene stroked her chin. “Hmm, perhaps we need something a tad more coincidental.” 

Joey snapped his fingers and leapt from his seat. “That’s it! Belphy you’re a genius!” He rushed to his filing room, slipping past his machine to get to the cork board. “We’ll string his destiny into mine, create a coincidence!” 

Belphene shook her head as she stood up, joining him in the cramped room. “Are you sure you want to use another string? You’ve only got so many left.”

He nodded frantically. “Of course! I’ve still got more than enough to piece things together later, it’ll be fine.” He grinned, it was far too wide for his face. “Pretty pleeeeease? Just this once?” 

“Alright you child.” She smirked and ruffled his hair. “Do you have a piece to connect them with?” 

Joey stopped dead in his tracks. The old man deflated, he hadn’t thought to grab a piece while he was out, it happened so fast. He racked his brain, trying to think of anything he could use to forge the connection. Belphene rolled her eyes, a knowing smile on her face. 

“Let me guess, you need me to go get one?” 

He was bashful as he looked up at her. “I-If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I’m terribly sorry Belphene.”

She ruffled his hair and laughed. “Getting forgetful in your old age, aren’t you Drew? It’s alright, gives us a good chance to scope him out.” With a boop of her finger on his nose, she waltzed over to the doorway. “I’ll be back around dinner hour to put ‘Liza to bed. You be good now Mr. Drew, no causing trouble.” 

The last he heard of her was a gleeful cackle as she disappeared in a puff of smoke. Mr. Drew stroked his mustache, thinking nefarious things as he looked to the machine that rested on the floor of his filing room. He ran his hand over its rusty surface, contemplating his plans.

“Soon enough Henry, soon enough. You’ll see that I was right. And to think I get to use your hands to prove it. What wonderful irony, not even the writing department could come up with something that clever.” He chuckled. “Yes, this kid will do nicely. You’ll learn to love him I’m sure.” 

And with that, Joey scurried back to the kitchen. There was quite a mess to clean up, and he couldn’t have that. No, Eliza was coming over tonight, and he’d be damned if his niece had to live with such filth. Yes, time to scrub the dishes and bake those cookies. 

After all; sweets made her so happy. 

Chapter Text

There are so many paths we could take, couldn’t we? So many perspectives I have the power to show you. But I must confess, it’s fun to leave you in the dark, wondering about what could be out there. I think it would be best if I directed you to the hospital though. That poor little worker could use some help, couldn’t they? 

Thankfully the nurses and doctors took good care of Bryan. Belphene took her time sneaking into the hospital, disguised as one of the staff members while things were milling about. But it certainly took a while to find her patient. Bryan was cooped up in a corner. His pillows were lumpy and poorly stuffed, his leg bound in a stiff cast, white as a ghost. His face was pale, his eyes closed, eyelashes delicately resting on his rounded cheeks. He was so distraught, and yet, so peaceful, just lying there. The doctors reviewed his charts, troubled by the results. Belphene kept herself busy attending to those that needed it, but she let her ears stay open. Their words floated over to her as though they hitched a ride on a breeze. 

“That was a nasty fall they took. Not likin’ these results Gerald.” 

“Bone got fractured in three different places, lucky it didn’t pierce the skin.” 

“You think she’ll recover?”

Wait, she?

“Not without a miracle Jim, we’ll be lucky if she ever walks again.” 

“Real shame, guess that theater is gonna need a new handyman.”

Belphene took another look at the fallen fellow with fresher eyes this time. How did she not see it before? No...how could Drew not have seen it? She finished up with laying a washcloth on another patient’s head before crossing the room to further inspect the situation. 

She came to the young lad’s side and watched the contour of his frame as he breathed quietly. High cheekbones, soft brown hair with bangs covering the eyebrows, and a sprinkling of freckles, as though they’d been kissed by a hundred tiny fairies. The hand that gripped the blanket was large, manly and worn, though the nails, while stained with ink, were well groomed, the cuticles were in mint condition. Far too many wrinkles graced them though, as though the life had been sucked out of them. Bags under their eyes told a tale of too many nights without decent sleep, staying way past their shift. And their ears, a small mole on the lobe, with a slight indent from how many times they’d worn clip on earrings, the mark left was unmistakable. Couldn’t have been high quality though, from all the green left behind. They were lucky not to have an infection. Their cheeks were still stained with tears. Were they the tears cried when meeting Joey, or new ones, Belphene didn’t know. How many breaks does one take while crying? How dehydrated must they be?

They quietly stirred, a sluggish groan escaping their tender lips. They slowly tried to get up, but Belpehene shushed them and told them to still. “You’re still healing my dear, easy. You poor fellow,” she cooed, “How do you feel?”

“Like my life just ended,” they replied gruffly. “I’m fine, just let me g-Ackhaugh!” They hit their chest a few times, a coughing fit erupting from their chest. Belphene took the water cup from beside their bed and offered it to them. They nodded thankfully, taking a sip and calming their aching chords. 

“I’m sorry,” Belphene started, “What exactly happened? To get you here?”

The lad wiped the water off their lips with their arm, rubbing their eyes. “Some clumsy old gentleman bumped into my ladder, knocked me over. It’s my own damn fault though, shoulda been more careful…” They coughed again. “Guess I gotta start lookin’ for work again, lord knows I’m outta the job now.” They sighed as they set the cup down, pulling the blanket over their head. 

Belphene’s lip stuck out as she looked upon them. That was a very convincing voice they put on, they did okay passing as a young man. But she wanted to know who was really underneath all this. Who was Bryan really?

The doctors came around with a clipboard full of papers. Their expressions were solemn. The lad looked at them. There was a strange sense of understanding in the room, they all seemed to know what was going on without saying a word. The doctors did stay for a minute to explain what the situation would be for the handyman. The lad cried. They had to operate, and even then the chances were slim that they’d ever walk properly again. 

“I’m sorry Miss Isabella...we’ll do the best we can.” Gerald and Jim walked away, leaving the girl alone with the nurse, just crying. There was nothing else she could do. Belphene went and refilled the water cup, dragging a stool with her to sit beside the patient. 

“Isabella?”

They hid their face behind two hands, giving a nod. “Y-yes m’am, that’s my name…”

“So then what’s all this I heard about a Bryan?” She asked. She cocked her head in curiosity, rubbing their back with as much comfort as she could muster. 

“B-bryan...Bryan is what they call me at work. No one would hire me as a woman, so I started dressin’ as a man. Mistah Jerome...h-he wasn’t too bad, a tough boss, but he never caught on. ‘Course now he’ll know, not that it matters.” She wiped at her eyes. “You ought to just put me to sleep like the vets do to dogs.” 

“Now don’t say that honey, that can’t be true. What about your poor family?”

“What family?” She scoffed. “Mom ran off to war and probably got shot in the noggin. Dad...dad’s dead. Has been for a year now.” She sniffled and rubbed at her face. “I haven’t got any siblings, my uncle Ernie has been missing for years, there’s nowhere left for me to go, nothing good left for me in this world. I may as well have died.” 

“I don’t believe that.” Belphene scooted her chair closer, her face soft but intense. “Everyone deserves to live, it’s one of the few things we as human beings can call our own. You’re filled with something special just like anybody else. That much I’m sure of.” 

Isabella shook her head and smirked. “You’re about as optimistic as a cartoon character miss, but you’re not changing my mind. I don’t deserve it.” 

“A cartoon character? Excuse you, I’m better. Who are you equating me to, Alice Angel?” Belphene smirked right back. 

There was something that lit up in the girl’s face. “Wait, you know Alice?” 

“‘Course I do, she’s quite a gal.” Belphene leaned in and whispered, her face rather coy about it all. “Though between you and me, I always liked the devil darlin’ better.”

Isabella chuckled. “Gosh that takes me back. Bendy was my childhood. God, Dad and I watched them every Saturday morning when we still lived with Uncle Ernie. Just him an’ I and the cartoon, in that beat up green recliner…” She hung her head for a moment. “I’d give anything to have those days back.”

“Anything?”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing dear, I didn’t say anything.” Belphene chuckled. “I know what you mean though. It was a joy working at that old studio, the people were so nice.”

“Wait, you WORKED there?!” She asked. “You worked for Joey Drew Studios? What was it like? Was it really as magical as it was in the paper?”

Belphene laughed, a tinkly sort of sound. “It was marvelous dear. It really was a place where dreams came true. From the animation department all the way to maintenance. I miss those days, Mister Drew was always smiling back then. Wish he’d smile like that now.” 

“You KNOW Joey Drew himself?” Her face was twisted. “He...doesn’t smile anymore? But...why?”

Belphene shook her head, holding her hands in her lap. “He’s so worn down these days with that project of his, animating frame by frame.” She smirked.

“Y-you mean, the final episode? The legendary last reel?” 

Belphene nodded. “I know, it sounds like such a silly rumor, but I assure you, it’s real. The last Bendy cartoon to ever be made, an homage to the team that made it such a success. There’s a piece of all of them in there, they were the heart of the studio after all.” 

Isabella’s eyes were so bright with wonder. Belphene knew in that moment that Drew had made the best possible decision, and at the same time, the worst. This was exactly the kind of apprentice he wanted, maybe even the one he needed. 

“But he’s gotta be an old fella by now, I mean the studio started up in ‘29, that’s crazy to think about.”

“That’s what worries me. He can’t get through more than a few frames without his arthritis killing him.” She sighed. “At this rate, it’ll never get done.”

“I’m awful sorry m’am, wish I could do somethin’ to help.” 

Belphene chuckled and booped her on the nose. “Weren’t you just saying how much you wanted to die? And now you’re telling me you’d like to go help Mr. Drew? See, you still have a place here.”

The patient turned away, shifting the covers in her embarrassment. A thud came quickly after. Both turned to look at the source of the noise. The handyman’s sketchbook had fallen to the floor. Belphene was quick to snatch it up and place it on the bed. Isabella was quicker to bring it into her arms. A treasure, it must be, to be worth holding so close. Belphene just kept smirking. 

“You’re an artist.”

“H-how-”

“It’s not hard to tell when you’ve worked with them for so long. I can see your spark dear. The real question is, how does it manifest?”

The girl gulped and quietly opened her book. And there it was, an exact match to what the demon had seen in Joey’s memories. Bendy, so many glorious images of the cartoons.

“May...may I please see more?” She asked gently. Bella nodded and handed the book over to her. 

It was breathtaking. Sure, there were faults and mistakes, but it was all so on-model. There was so much more than cartoons in there though. Rich landscapes in grayscale of another world, far away from our own, something out of a fairytale. There were people in there, memories of loved ones, memories of those left behind, those who were still trying to catch up. And in the corner of every page was an ongoing run cycle, of a little candle hopping along a path. 

“Who’s this little fellow? I quite like him.” The nurse inquired.

“Oh him? That’s Fiero.” Isabella chuckled. “He’s a waiter at a cafe, quite the charmer. He’s kinda old though, had him since I was a kid.” 

“So he’s your creation?” 

“Yeah, I guess so. Though some days I swear he’s got a mind of his own. He just comes to me so easily when working on him, like he’s...alive.” She held a hand over her heart. Something was sad in her eyes, despite such a nostalgic expression, but Belphene couldn’t pinpoint it. 

“I know how that feels. Our characters were the same way back then, they really do have a life of their own…” Belphene too had a dreamy look in her eyes, before snapping back to reality. “Tell you what dear, how about I get you and Mr. Drew introduced, once you’re released from the hospital? I know it’s not much, but I’m sure he’d be willing to connect you to someone in the industry.”

“Y-you really mean it?” Isabella looked ready to cry.

“Of course! You’ve clearly got the talent. With a clean portfolio, I’m sure we can help you get where you want to be.” She grinned and took the girl’s hands in hers, her squeeze tight but gentle. “You’re gonna make it Bella, I’m sure of it.” 

“Bella...I kinda like that.” The girl latched onto Belphene in a tight hug, tears fell on her shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, “thank the Lord, I’m not gonna die today.” 

Belphene sat there for a while with Bella. But eventually, she had to leave. 

“I gotta get going, need to stop by Drew’s house to deliver something. Say…” she said coyly, “Would you be willing to let me take one of your sketches with me? I think it’d brighten his day to see them.” 

Bella quickly flipped through her book to try and find one. She settled on one towards the middle, of Fiero serving Bendy an ice cream sundae. “Here, this is the happiest one I have.” She grinned and carefully tore it out, handing it to Belphene. “Thank you, Miss, um-”

“Farah dear, Miss Farah.” She chuckled. “It was wonderful to meet you Bella. I’ll come back as much as I can.” 

Bella smiled back and bowed her head. “Thanks, Miss Farah. Have a safe trip home, okay?”

“Of course my dear. Rest easy, I’ll see you again soon.” 

With the clack of her heels, she hurried out of the hospital and into the alleyway, holding the drawing in utter delight. Joey would be so pleased with her. This would make everything perfect, soon her contract would have its collection fulfilled. She was so hungry, it was about time for things to work out.

But that’s only one slice of reality, isn’t it? This is Joey’s story, isn’t it? Well no, but it could become a part of it, who’s to say? No, Joey’s story is still running on a loop. How many times has it gone through now? I’ve lost count. You ought to ask Henry if you want to know, he keeps track better than I do.

Speaking of which, best to check in on them, isn’t it? I’m sure you’ve been curious as to what’s going on in the studio. Well, you’re in luck, they’re at one of my favorite parts. 

Sammy Lawrence watched his prisoner intently, but it was quick to turn to boredom. He sighed and leaned against the wall. “It’s insufferable having to watch you sleep, you know that?” 

Of course, the form of Henry Stein couldn’t answer, he was, in fact, asleep while tied to his usual post. Practically had his name on it at this point, Sammy hadn’t had to tie anyone else up in a long time, but the knots were well memorized all the same. But that wasn’t who he was talking to. The room was supposed to be laid out a certain way, with just the two of them and a handful of available searchers at a set point. 

But today, a visitor had come to the sacrificial room. He leaned on the wall next to the sleeping old man, a look of disdain on his face. He was bizarre, but he fit the studio’s aesthetics quite well. His eye sockets glowed amber, ethereal in contrast to his human form. His frame was golden from head to toe, but translucent, incorporeal so to speak. His limbs all dripped, some with ink, otherwise with god knows what. It looked like honey, but Sammy was pretty sure it wasn’t, Joey had been too cruel to allow anything that sweet down here. Though Henry had always been a fan of Jack’s baklava at the holiday parties, so who knows? Maybe this was just more torture, a reminder of how very little humanity they had left…

“Sorry, can’t help it, Lawrence.” The figured replied. “If I could wake myself up, I would.” 

“Can’t you just possess your body or something?” 

“Pfft, I wish.” He groaned. “Look, I wish we could change this as much as anyone else. But any chance I had to change the loop is gone. The body’s on autopilot at this point, unless someone can put me back together.” 

“Oh beli-no, no, not that word.” Sammy rubbed his temples and took a deep breath. “What I meant is, I understand. I’m just sick of dying every single time we go through this song and dance. It's getting old and I just want it over with.”

“Oh come now, it’s not so bad. What, twice a cycle you get axed?”

“Three.” 

“Three times? But Tom and the devil only get you once each.” 

Sammy laughed at that, his tone dripping with cynicism. “Hell no. Demon gets me twice, you’re just never around to see it. It’s not like these things only happen when you’re in the vicinity Stein. We have a much lengthier script than you do.”

“Yikes, I’m sorry.” The golden specter winced, shaking his head. "I'm not really keen on seeing any of you dying anymore... it's awful."

"You're telling me." Sammy shuddered. "No idea how much longer your body will be out. Got any new questions this time?"

"You mean you don't want to talk about being sliced in the head?" He smirked. 

"Please," Sammy said in exasperation.

“Alright then. So, how is it you’re the only one who can see me? I figured more of you would’ve noticed that I’m here. I’ve tried talking to all of you, but you’re the only one to notice.” 

Sammy tapped the side of his mask. “I have the eyes for it, as ironic as that is. The others would think I was crazy if I told them though. Not that I’m not already the lunatic of this place.” He sighed and sat on the floor. “I was a musical genius, composing things in a quality far above my paygrade, and this is what he casts me as? A cult leader? The nerve.” He sunk his fist into his cheek, dripping slightly in frustration. “He made a fool of me, caused the pipe to burst on purpose and misdirect my passion. If we could just get whatever power he has on his side onto ours, give it something greater as an incentive, maybe we’d be released.”

“Easy there bud, that’s a pretty cultist-sounding thing to say.” The specter floated over and sat next to him, giving him a pat on the back. “The loop has been getting weaker over time. I may not be able to change it, but we’ve had a lot more moments where you guys break the script. We just need a bigger disturbance. A showstopper to give us a concrete ending.”

“I highly doubt we’ll get that Henry.” Sammy sighed and looked away. “There’s only one soul not accounted for down here. I’ve gone through every searcher, lost one, and cartoon, we know who’s missing for certain now. And once he's here, we’re done for. The last piece will be complete, the narrative fully realized. And with that...eternal prison.” Sammy held his knees to his chest. His form quivered, the ink beading and dripping as he shivered. “What did we do to deserve this…”

“Nothing. And I don’t understand why he thinks otherwise.” The specter clenched his fist, his grimace painfully squeezing his jaw. “I just want to go home. Linda, Eliza, how are they doing without me? How long has it been? My students, who’s teaching them without me there?” 

“Hmph. No one is so indispensable that they can’t be replaced. But I doubt your family would do that to you. They truly love you…” Sammy trailed off, his thoughts elsewhere for a moment before snapping back to reality. “We’re just lucky they’re where they belong and not here, I don’t think I could live with myself if Joey forced me to sacrifice any one of you…”

Henry shuddered at the thought. “H-he wouldn’t, no. H-he would never hurt Eliza like that. He loves her. He couldn’t, n-not-ack!”

He inhaled sharply, as though he’d been stabbed in the abdomen. But nothing had hit him, nor had either of them seen anything! And yet there it was, a gaping wound in his stomach, as though he’d been slashed with an ax, the honey-like sludge pouring from it like a waterfall. 

“No no, I need that!” He held his arms over the wound and squeezed, slowly suturing the exposed area. He winced and looked to Sammy, who didn’t seem to be paying any attention. No, Sammy, the Sammy he knew at least, wasn’t there anymore. He stood up and reached to get the ax in the corner, taking his position robotically in front of the body. Henry glared at his sleeping corpse, angry. 

“He made a cultist of you? Well, he made a puppet of me.” The specter stood up and looks to his hands. Sludge was still wet. Time to get to work then. He had to get to writing, maybe he could get the corpse to take longer this time, find a way out. He sighed at the thought. It was his body, his brain, his strong heart, but without a soul, it couldn’t figure out how to change things. He had to bring them together. He needed his body back, no matter how old and achy it was if he wanted a chance of setting things right. 

“I’ll get you out eventually Lawrence. Believe me, we’ll find a way out.” 

“There we go now, nice and tight. We wouldn’t our sheep roaming away now, would we?”

No, we wouldn’t. Drew didn’t want anyone leaving.

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.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Breaking the Habit, Starting a Journey, Dreaming of You

It's extremely dangerous when a demon cares. 

Belphene visited the hospital thrice more, carefully planning out the meeting with Bella for Mister Drew. And every time she arrived, she came bearing gifts. "Compliments from the man himself," she'd said. Of course, she had a hard time getting the girl to accept them. You wouldn't think it'd be so hard, getting an artist to keep a new set of pencils and liners, or a little Bendy plush to keep her company, but it was. 

"I never thought I'd see one of these in person." Bella chuckled as she held the stuffed demon to her chest. "Dad and I were so poor back then, we barely had enough to keep the clothes on our backs. I remember old Ms. Cherie who worked at the library, she helped me scrap together fabrics out of the lost and found to make an Edgar of my own. Taught me how to sew." She sighed. "She was the mother I never had. I hope she's doing alright."

"You should stop by and see her once you're better. I'm sure she'd be worried sick about you." Belphene replied. There was a pout on her puffy lips, one of genuine sadness for as fake as it looked. 

The more she talked with Bella, the worse she felt about what was going to happen. This child really had nothing. No friends save for a fella named Carmen who ran off to try working for Disney, no family save for the librarian who loved her like a daughter. No hopes for anything, not even being treated decently. She'd been trained her whole life to accept disappointment and carry on, what a sad fate that was. Belphene felt her heart clouding her judgment. She knew she couldn't disobey the orders she'd been given, but she didn't want to do this. She didn't want this child to be used as a pawn any longer. There had to be another way, a way to mend her broken heart, to make her human again. How could she possibly be human with a heart that loving, yet never loved back? How could she be human when she was treated as so much less than one? 

Belphene wondered that often. She wondered that about a lot of humans, they were so good inside compared to the scum she met in hell. So hard to sway, unlike the countless mortals she'd had to tempt to Satan's side. She'd wondered about demons too, why they were made to be so cruel. Why was she made to hurt people? At least one demon she knew wasn't made that way. No, he was made to entertain, to love and be loved. And right now, she needed his aid. 

Belphene rose from her spot and packed up her purse. "I'd best be on my way, duty calls. You'll be alright darling?" 

"I'm always better knowing I'll see you again." Bella hugged the doll closer and smiled from where she laid on the bed. "Promise you'll stop by again soon?" 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world jingle bells." She smiled and gave a wink to the demon in her arms. "Now take care of her dear, don't let me find that you were slacking." 

Bella giggled as Belphene hurried off. She laid down with the plush in her arms, dozing off to sleep in a playful little Dreamland. 

What she didn't see was that the demon in her arms had winked back. 

---

Belphene had definitely let her morals get to her, or else she wouldn't have asked this one for help earlier. 

"You'll look after her while I'm gone?"

"Sure thing toots. As long as I'm the devil darlin', you can count on me. No worrying that pretty little head of yours."

She'd laughed. "Gosh you're insufferable. How do Alice and Boris put up with it?"

"Beats me, in theory I'm their personal nuisance!" Bendy laughed at that, clutching his stomach and wiping a tear from his eye. But he was quick to grow somber. "Hey, thanks for takin' over for a bit and givin' me some fresh air. I know our amigo José wouldn't approve but-"

"No need, I-I need some time off too."

"I know, I know. I'm just...I'm glad you were willing to let me run free for a bit. It gets tiring being a monster. I don't...I don't like it." 

Belphene knelt down and held the tiny demon in her arms, squeezing so tightly to try and stop herself from trembling. "I know...I don't want this either."

"But remember, we're not monsters. We...we just play them on TV." Bendy hugged the taller demon back, keeping composed just a little bit better than she had. "So you want me to get to know her huh? Take her for a spin on a dream ride?"

"Please. She needs a sweeter dream. If Drew is really going to force her into this, I want to make sure you at least like her. You know how important that bond is." 

"I don't think I'll mind her any. She's already drawn me so much, I can feel all that love she's got. It's so tasty." He chuckled and held her a little longer. "She'll keep us both sustained for a long time…maybe enough so that you can finally move on, find a new contractor." 

Belphene pulled back and gently grasped his shoulders. Her pumpkin eyes were filled with tears. "I can't just leave you alone. W-we promised to stick together, from the day I brought you off the page!"

"Yeah, but bein' here makes ya miserable…" Bendy brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Toots... it's okay. One day, you deserve to have some freedom. Don't hesitate to take it. Explore the world, climb da Eiffel Towah, I'll be here waiting to hear all about it." He smiled, those eight pearly whites filled with so much sincerity. "We'll be free one day. The next one won't be like Joey, he can't last forever." 

"Y-you're right... he's only a mortal." She stood up and dusted herself off. "I'll keep Henry occupied for a while, you take care of her. Tell the others they're welcome to join you." 

Bendy nodded, taking a bow. "As ya wish beautiful.~ Don't rough him up too bad."

"I won't, promise."

Belphene waved goodbye and ran back into the void of the ink, hurrying into the domain of the studio. And once again, the ink demon stood tall and menacing in the silence of Heavenly Toys. She growled and proceeded to tear the room apart. No going after Henry yet. She had a fire to get out of her system.

---

Bendy meanwhile meandered his way through the river of sepia. Swimming along, he admired the realm into which he'd been thrust. It was so vague, so abstract, but also dark. What a lonely dream, he thought to himself, what a lonely person, not utilizing their full canvas like that. 

"She must not know how to dream big anymore. Well, we can fix that. I'll give her the best night of her life, the Belle of the ball!" He grinned and hurried forward, struggling to find her in the massive splotch of darkness.

Eventually, he stumbled upon the young lady, dressed in her cap and a stained apron, her freckles popping as she worked on sketching something. It was a quiet little place, a patch of grass just big enough for her to sit on, her pencils held by the lavender that grew beside her. And in her book, she drew. She drew beautiful things, everything she could possibly want, which wasn't much. But then she heard Bendy's splashing and looked up to see the little demon that popped out of the babbling brook. She giggled and waved, gesturing for him to come over. 

"Bendy! Oh, it's so good to see you, would you care for a picnic?" She smiled, what a lovely young smile she had. Her eyes glistened with starlight. 

Bendy nodded and bounded on over, tipping an imaginary hat as he took a seat beside her. "On this fine day? Wouldn't miss it foh the world dollface. So whatcha up to, what's the artwork today?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" She laughed and plucked an ink pen from behind her ear. And as she traced the outlines of her image, the world came to life, colorful and free. They were in the town park, sitting under a shady apple tree on a small hill, watching the children play on the playground below. Not too far away, there was a young man, maybe in his 30s, sitting on a bench, who was also drawing. He had ginger hair, like something right out of a spice rack, and amber eyes that sparkled as they reflected the blues of the clearest sky. So few clouds today, just enough to guess what kinds of shapes they were. The man had some wrinkles in his worn hands, so strong yet so delicate with his tool. Bendy felt off, there was something familiar about him, but he couldn't place what. 

Not far from the man was a father and his daughter, sitting on a picnic blanket, enjoying some cut up carrots and tiny cupcakes together. The man was so young, he had to be new at this fathering thing, but his touch with the girl made him seem so expert. The child looked like a pixie, with her hair in those springy pigtails, running around barefoot in her little sundress. She was beyond adorable. Occasionally she ran too far and got caught by the man on the bench. He would chuckle and shake his head, then get back to his work, glancing up at her every few moments. Eventually, the babe caught notice of this and quietly scrambled to pry her way up the bench. The man smiled and gave her a little boost. 

"Well hello there." He'd said. The girl quietly crawled over. She was so quiet now, too quiet for a four-year-old. Her father came running over. 

"I'm so sorry sir. Dizzy Izzy, we should let this nice fellow draw in peace for a bit-"

"Oh no, it's quite alright. Your daughter is a phenomenal model, I think she gave me just what I needed for this piece." He gave her a wink. "Wanna see?" 

The tiny tot nodded excitedly and hurried to get closer. The man held up his sketchbook for her to see. 

"Hey, what's in there?" Bendy asked. 

He left the artist's side for a moment to get a little closer. And once he saw the page, he was left in awe. There was the most beautiful sketch he'd ever seen of Alice, frolicking in a field of flowers, with the demon himself running after her. Boris sat on a picnic blanket, enjoying a comically large submarine sandwich. The perfect summer afternoon, just games and fun, the way it was supposed to be. 

Bendy felt a tear in his eye. He remembered this. This was that day, the day where he watched Henry playing in the park. He looked to the little girl, with those rosy cheeks and an abundance of freckles.

"Benny! Benny Benny Benny! An' Allie and Bowis too!" 

Her father and the man couldn't help themselves, they laughed, holding their stomachs as though they'd burst at the seams. The father picked up the girl and spun her around, tickling her tummy and blowing her a raspberry before settling down. They all laughed. "That's right! That's Bendy alright. Sir, your drawings are extraordinary, where did you learn to sketch like that."

The man, no, Henry, chuckled. "Been doin' it since I could pick up a pencil. I know a few fellas who work at the studio, good folks. Picked up a thing or two about drawing these guys from them. I take it you know the show?"

"Of course! We don't get great service, but a friend lets us watch Bendy every Saturday morning. Ain't that right Isabelle?"

"Benny! Benny dances!" She squirmed a little in her pop's arms, wiggling her feet like a tap dancer. 

"Well I'm glad to hear," Henry replied. He had an old look in his eyes, the look of a father who was proud of his kid's accomplishments. "The folks working on that cartoon are good people, they'd be honored to hear you love their work. I'm sure Bendy would thank you too." He smiled before closing the book. "Say, how do you like chalk? Care to draw on the sidewalk with me?" 

The girl, now finally allowed on the ground, hopped up and down excitedly, her pigtails bouncing. "Yes please, sir!"

Henry laughed again. "Alright. Let's go make a masterpiece!" 

And so the three of them headed over to the sidewalk that led to the fountain in the park, and they drew. Bendy remembered that day. He'd remembered the kids that passed by, how they laughed, how happy they were to see his visage. He watched them all day, performing just for him and his toons. Alice had been so happy back then, and Boris was delighted that so many people drew treats near his chalky face. Even the butchers had been invited. That was the best thing about being a cartoon. Sure, you got to have many adventures on the screen when you were called to, but every time their faces were drawn, they could see the artist smiling back at them. And seeing those kids, seeing how loved they were, it made all the difference. They were happy. Bendy loved those kids. They made everything they touched beautiful.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Bella smiling at the scene too, tears in her eyes. "That was the happiest day of my life. Dad and I were outside for hours. The artist was the nicest person in the whole world, I don't think I'd have started drawing if not for him." 

Bendy looked at her, wide-eyed and surprised. "Really now?"

"Yeah, just look." She gestured towards the girl and the artist, sketching together in the chalk. He guided her on some of the linework, getting the right circle and horns for his demon. 

Bendy felt tears in his eyes. "Thank ya toots. I… I'd nearly forgotten about this. Henry, he…"

"Henry? You mean the creator of the show?" Bella raised an eyebrow. "You know who made you?"

"Well sure, what self-respecting cartoon doesn't?" He chuckled sadly, rubbing at his pie cut eyes. "You gave my old man so much to be happy about that day. He hadn't had that much fun drawing us in so long." 

"Wait, THAT'S Henry? The legendary Henry?" The artist stumbled a little, holding a hand over her mouth. "No way, I met the head animator when I was a kid, and I didn't even know it?" 

"Yep, you nailed it toots. He was just starting to look for another job at this point, got sick of the deadlines. After that, I watched him become the best professor this town has ever seen. I mean just look at how well he's doin' with the tots, that's a man who loves to make magic." Bendy chuckled, leaning on an invisible cane as he watched it all play out. “This is what we lived for, making the world beautiful again.” 

Bella held her sketchbook close to her chest as she gazed upon the scene. “He made everything he touched into a masterpiece...He gave me hope that I could make anything I set my mind to.”

“Well it’s the truth. You can! Anyone can if they just believe in it, ya know?” Bendy took her hand and held it tightly in his own. “And I’ve seen you, I know your work. You made Fiero, didn’t ya? That took a lot of love dollface.”

“You...you know my candle?”

“Of course I do! Toons can see everything through the page, we know who’s drawn us and why. Fiero has always been kind to me behind the scenes. I can feel your love through him. It’s such a bright light, so polite.” He squeezed her hand a little more. “Don’t ever lose that light, okay? It will save you when you need it most.”

Bella shook her head and chuckled, squeezing back. Her eyes had a few tears pricking at them. “It’s so funny you say that, so...so ironic. I haven’t felt hopeful in so long, not since Miss Farah stopped in.”

“Believe me toots, she’s good news to have around, but be careful. There are real demons everywhere you go, and it’s best not to make deals with them.” Bendy had a somber look in his pie cut eyes. “You’re such a good kid, I’d hate to see something bad happen to you.”

“I think I’ll be okay. She’s been so kind to me in the hospital, tells me I’ll be free to go soon. I’m gonna go home, it’s finally getting better.” She hugged her book like an old friend as they both gazed at the man drawing with chalk. “One day, I’m gonna be like him, and make all of those childhood dreams come to life. I’ll make worlds that people can explore to their heart’s content, and it’ll be beautiful.” 

Bendy could see that gentle fire in her eyes. It glowed with light from deep within her heart, a light that burned for something brighter, something loving. She slipped her book into her apron pocket and took his hand. “Would you care to dance with me for a while?” 

Bendy froze at that. “A dance? With me? Why I haven’t had anyone ask in forever! Toots, you just made my day, of course, I accept!” He gave a small wink before letting go. “But first, how about a change of scenery! Get drawin’ honey, because we need ourselves a stage!”

Bella grinned and ran out to the edge of the scene, her pen in hand and ready to go. With broad strokes and vast scribbles, she quickly got the world to change around them. Green fields and tall trees turned to wooden floorboards and velvet red curtains, with stage wings left empty for more folks to join in. 

Bendy watched as the image of the memory faded away, almost sad he had to go. But as he looked at Henry one last time, their eyes made contact. How amber they were, how they stared right through his lack of a soul. How they could see what never should have been seen. The specter knew now, knew something he wasn't supposed to. How careless, how careless indeed.

Bendy winced and ran away from the image of the ghost, he felt his breath go sharp as he faded away. He felt lucky knowing that Bella hadn't noticed. Those two shouldn't meet again. 

The girl had nearly finished her set when she thought of something. "Are you gonna be okay to dance with me? I know I'm pretty short, but I'm still a lot taller than you."

Bendy rubbed his chin in thought for a moment. He hadn't really considered that, but then again, he was a cartoon, who needed regular logic when your world had its own brand of it? "Ya know toots, I think I might have an answer. Take me to my dressing room please!" 

Bella giggled and drew him up a quick door. He stumbled on through it, a few cartoony noises of metal clanking and crashes and rips sounded off before he came tumbling back out. 

And what a handsome fella he was! He'd argue he was always handsome if he were here, but to see the devil darling all gussied up in a suit and tap shoes, with a top hat on his brow? Truly extraordinary. But his outfit was only the beginning. He'd grown taller! Just a few inches over the girl at five foot five. His legs were slender and prone to wiggle like Jell-O, yet he retained such grace as he bowed to her. 

"Aw come on cutes, you're missing your dancing boots! Come on, dance with me here!"

"Frank Sinatra, really? Oh, you know me too well!" She laughed and bounded over, giving a little twirl before taking his hand. He grinned, that charming devilish grin, and spun her around thrice. Before she knew it, her dirty work clothes had been altered. The fluttering apron gave way to a lovely sock hop dress in black and white, complete with a little Boris in the place of the typical poodle. The skirt billowed as she spun around. Her hat turned into a lovely headband, letting her long locks flow free while still tucked nicely behind her ears. And of course, she had some dancing shoes. She shrieked in surprise as the demon dipped her down, both from the act itself and from the change in accessories. "Whoa...I don't think I've ever worn something so fancy before!" 

"What can I say dollface, when you dance with the darling, you only get the finest." He grinned and pulled her back up. "Swing with me toots!" 

And she did just that. It felt like hours, and yet it passed by like the blink of an eye. Bendy lived up to his title as he led her through a complex but enjoyable swing dance, busting out all the impressive moves like the showoff he was. Bella smiled and laughed the whole way through, skirt twirling all over the place. Her feet knew exactly what to do, every part of them both was so sure of the next move, so confident in the next step. It was a feeling of bliss one could only find in a dream. They gave into their intuition, and it rewarded them with heaven. 

Eventually, though, their dance had to end, and that's when the crowd burst into applause! And there were Alice and Boris, standing up from the first row of the velvet cushioned seating, whistling and cheering for their performance. And who sat next to them? A candle in a dapper vest, with a flame for a head. He hopped up too throughout the clapping.

"What a lovely show!" Alice exclaimed. "Surely you'll invite me next time, won't you darlings?" 

"For you, angel face? Anything." Bendy laughed as he approached the edge of the stage. He reached out a gloved hand to pull each of them up to join their duo. 

Boris stood tall next to Bella, scratching the back of his head all nervous-like. "Well golly gee Miss Bella, that certainly was something! You musta worked up quite an appetite after that!"

Fiero chuckled and took her hand. "I know a place that would treat us just fine. Care to head to the cafe for a bite? We've got ice cream tonight." He teased.

Bella hugged the candle so tightly that he was stunned for a moment. "Would I ever! Pretty please with a cherry on top!" 

Fiero laughed and hugged her back. "Alright. Miss Angel, Mr. Wolf, please escort our fair lady over there. Ben and I will join you in a bit once we clean up here."

"You've got it sugar, we'll see you soon!" Alice said with a wave. "Come on Bella, let's head on over!" 

The artist grinned and ran along with them, excited to have some company for dessert. 

Both Bendy and Fiero let out a sigh of relief once she was gone. But then it had to get serious. Not all dreams can be sugarplums forever after all. 

"Alright Benny, give it to me straight. What are you doing here with my girl?"

"Sorry bud, I'm on official business. Belphene asked me to step in for an evening while she took care of things at home."

The candle shook his head and scowled. "You can't fool me bud. Any toon with their head screwed on right knows the curse that comes from your little studio. Why are you really here? What does Drew want with my girl?" 

Bendy sighed and rubbed his temples. "Look candle head, I dunno how to break this to you, but your creator over there is in a bad way. Belphy hasn't given me all the details, but to my understanding, it looks like a business deal. He's been thinking about rebuilding the studio for a long time now, my guess is she's a new hire."

"What?! Rebuild JDS, now?! But he's flat out broke, and way too old to manage a business. Not to mention how cruel he was to your staff. All those miserable faces, it was deplorable!" Fiero winced, suddenly feeling chills up his spine. "I don't like this, it's only a matter of time before he tries to steal my copyright too then. But that's not nearly as important as what's gonna happen to her...Ben, I'm worried. She's still just a kid, ya can't let Drew hurt her the way he did everyone else. He's bad news."

"Ya think I don't know that? I can't stop him Fiero, he's got all the aces in his deck."

"You're an actual demon! Don't you control the deal?"

"No! And I'm not even the one who made it to begin with!" He growled and pulled at his face. "Believe me, if I had the power to stop Joey from being a moron, I woulda done it by now. But I don't. Belphy is the one with the contract, ya gotta take it up with her. I wouldn't recommend that right now, seeing as she's filling in for me, but ya know-"

"She's doing what now?! Ben, he's gonna catch on at some point if you keep doing this." Fiero latched onto his gloved hands. "All of us over in Toontopia are worried about you guys. You're some of the best cartoons to ever cross the screen, and Drew has done nothing but destroy your legacy. I don't want him to destroy you next. Because that's what'll happen. He destroyed his staff, next comes the art. I don't wanna see you disappear-"

"Or get corrupted, I know. I've been over this with practically every toon that sees me when I get a breather, can I please not worry about it for one night?" He pleaded. "I was sent to give your gal a little love and comfort while she's in the hospital, okay? Just let me do that for a night."

"Wait, she's where?!" Fiero was stunned. "H-how did I not know, am I disconnecting, a-am I not enough, am-"

"Whoa whoa, easy there, you're gonna set something on fire!" Bendy warned as the flames grew hotter on his head. "It's not your fault, and it's not hers either. She hasn't drawn much in a few days now, give her time to get better, then she'll come back to you."

"Come back to who, Bendy?" 

The two had spoken so long that they hadn't noticed the scene shift. They'd found themselves on a white backdrop, with a small table that Bendy was forced to sit at, while Fiero served him a coffee. They both looked up, frightened by the voice they heard.

There he was, Mr. Drew, staring right through their page: Bella's illustration. 

Suddenly, they had much bigger problems to worry about.

Chapter Text

Henry and Buddy made their way through the labyrinth of the studio with determination in their hearts. Something was amiss. The wolf was silent throughout their journey, much too quiet, as though he was occupied with something else and had no time to pay attention to Buddy’s disruption in their path. Henry stuck close to the former gopher, a strong need to defend him stirred in his gut. The specter followed his corpse with such dread, he hated the loop so much. But soon they would part ways, soon he could help Buddy. At least this time they had enough of a change so that Buddy could keep the mining hat, that would make life easier. 

Buddy watched the walls of the studio as they walked around, following the puppet on autopilot. He looked to the specter. Poor Henry had such bags under his eyes, even as a spirit. Always dripping or struggling, be it to stay awake or to keep it together. He was a far cry from the emotionless fleshbag that walked through their story. He had so much heart, his glow practically pulsed to its melody. Sammy would’ve loved it , he thought to himself, he was twisted enough for that.

The specter looked to him in return, a tired smile on his face. “It’s okay. We just have to be careful about Alice. I don’t know if she’ll notice that you’re you, but I don’t want her touching you either way.” 

Buddy shuddered at the thought. Just as Henry had grown to understand his story, he’d learned more of his. And now that he knew what Boris’ fate was? Well, suffice it to say it terrified him. Why had Boris let him sleep through that? Why...why had he taken the brunt of Alice’s attacks? Why did he let himself become a monster instead of forcing Buddy to suffer instead? He had always been a coward after all, why wouldn’t he make someone else go through the hard stuff? Buddy wasn’t sure, he couldn’t speak with his housemate like he wanted to, and even if he could, what would he have said? Then again...maybe he’d misjudged Boris. It was hard not to have some distaste for him after all they’d been through, stealing his soul from him and all that. But that wasn’t really Boris’ fault, that was Joey’s. 

All of this was Joey’s fault. No one would deny that.

They approached the pathway where the vent opened up. Buddy obediently crawled inside to go throw the lever. And the specter followed. It was a very small crawl space, frankly he could feel his neck cramping up. Why did Boris put up with this? But he carefully hurried ahead and kept his head down. 

"Shouldn't be too far from here, he's never in the vent for very long." Henry said as they went.

Eventually they found the lever to throw the switch, then they kept going. Henry guided the gopher through all he knew about Boris' path. But then the time was approaching, for their 'date' with the angel. Buddy didn't look forward to this. She sounded downright deplorable from how Henry had described her, deformed and falling apart. His mind couldn’t begin to imagine what her reality was like. 

“Let’s just get this over with.”

And so they walked into the memorabilia room to trigger the trap. The lights dimmed, and the tiny TV screens lit up. A cute little yawn from a dainty cherub graced their ears.

“I'm the cutest little angel, sent from above, and I know just how to swing.

I got a bright little halo, and I'm filled with love...

I'm Alice Angel!”

Buddy couldn’t help but tap his foot a little bit. There weren’t a lot of Alice episodes in production when he was at the studio, he’d never even heard her sing before. But she sounded divine! Certainly wasn’t the same sound as Miss Pendle though, oh no, this was someone young and bright, a little movie star in the making. This has to be Susie, he thought to himself, why would Joey get rid of a gal like that? She’s perfect! 

“I'm the hit of the party, I'm the belle of the ball, I'm the toast of every town.

Just one little dance, and I know you'll fall...

I'm Alice Angel!”

The light clicked on over her door, but there was no angel to be seen. Buddy walked forward a step, but Henry held him back. However, the corpse approached the window carelessly. Buddy was suddenly afraid as to why.

“I ain't no flapper, I'm a classy dish, and boy, can this girl sing.

This gal can grant your every wish-”

BAM!

“I’m Alice Angel! Ah ha ha ha ha!” 

The lights blew out, and an awful cackling filled the room. Buddy hadn’t gotten a good look at the figure that popped up like a jack in the box at the window, but that sure as hell wasn’t an angel! He looked to the left and the right, holding the specter close as he quivered in his boots. 

A voice came in over the loudspeaker. 

“I see you there.

A new fly in my endless web.

Come along now. Let’s see if you’re worthy to walk with angels.~”

Buddy didn’t like that. Buddy didn’t like that at ALL. He was still shaking like a leaf, his hands covering his eyes and his knees turned to noodles, when he heard a burst of laughter. Taking his hands away from his face, there was the specter, on the floor laughing, meanwhile his body was just on the floor with a blank look on his face. Buddy scratched his head. Henry, what the hell is wrong with you, his face seemed to say. Henry wiped at his eyes and stood himself back up, dusting off his pants. 

“I”m sorry Buddy. It’s just, oh man, ah ha ha ha!” He held his belly and tried to cease his laughter. “That scared me so bad the first several times, but after a while, it’s just so cheesy. I mean she had a god damn spotlight and everything, she thinks she’s all scary and dramatic, but she’s just a drama queen.” Henry wiped his eyes to get rid of the golden tears spilling out. “At any rate, let’s go meet the angel. Time for ‘date night.’” 

He snapped his fingers, and much to the surprise of both of them, the body hopped back up and turned around to head out the door. They both look at Henry’s fingers in confusion.

“Huhn. I uh...I guess I just know the timing a little too well. Well we’d better keep up with him.” 

Henry and Buddy hurried after the body to meet the next phase of their torture. You’ve probably heard this part of the story a million times over, I don’t need to tell you all the details, do I? Why would you come and hear this story if you wanted more of the exact same thing? How utterly boring! No, you know the story of the studio already, you know exactly how every loop before this one panned out. Now it’s my turn to give you something different. None of that “demon and angel path” crap, none of the meticulous puzzle solving, no. So let’s cut straight to the fun stuff. This is where it gets good. 

We’ll pick up in the spot leading to the angel’s chambers: the corpse room. You know the one. Do I need to tell you how twisted it is? Oh alright, I suppose I could. It’s quite gruesome really.

All Buddy could see around him was death. Tens upon tens of Boris and Butcher Gang clones, mutilated, deceased. Guts ripped out, bones jaggedly sticking through the skin in so many places they shouldn’t have. Deformities everywhere. Monsters, all of them, monsters ripped apart by a greater monster than them all! And all of them were notably missing their hearts. Who were they before? Who were any of them, where were their souls now? Why had she done this? It had to be Alice, right?

“Look around. It took so many of them to make me so beautiful.”

Yep. She did it.

“Anything less than perfect, was left behind.”

“I had to do it, she made me.” 

There she was, that sweeter side to her voice again. Buddy couldn’t help but wonder, was the real Alice stuck in this phony’s head? Was she similar to him and Boris? He didn’t know. But he wanted to know, he wanted to understand. What he would’ve given to ask her, to tell her that this wasn’t the answer. Henry had spilled everything to him, he knew there could be another way, if she would just stop slaughtering innocents. Maybe they could find a way to fix her. Then she’d help them, right? She didn’t want to be here, living like this, did she?

They teetered across the bridge and found themselves in the core of her domain. Behind the glass window, there she was, holding a poor copy of Charley hostage on her table. Buddy looked to Henry, who seemed perplexed. Was something different? 

Indeed, something was different. Alice was slumped over her podium, looking tired and sad. It was frankly kind of pathetic. Buddy could see why Henry was scared of her though. Half of her face was like a melted cheese puff, with an inky eye that leaked blackness into the deformed string cheese of her jaw. Her halo was stabbed into her hair, and so much of her was covered in messiness. Her one somewhat human eye was looking to the ground, barely acknowledging their presence as she squished her fist into her cheek. She sighed.

“I should be more excited to monologue about the exposition this time around, but frankly I’m not in the mood.” She rolled her eyes and watched the corpse, glaring at him. “For once I wish you’d buck up and be successful you old lug. I wish you’d stand up for yourself instead of letting everyone walk all over you and whip you around like a ragdoll!” She hissed and banged at the glass. Her eye was full of malice, her face dripping ever so slightly more. 

“It’s just like it always is, we’re always trapped in here, bits and pieces, like we’re fish, swimming in a-a bowl! UGH! No, no no NO!” She banged again, holding herself tensely against the one barrier protecting them from her. “No more of that stupid, STUPID script! It’s such a garbage monologue! I was made to shine the brightest, I refuse to be reduced to this pathetic role!” 

She’d become so unhinged in just a few short moments, leaving Buddy and Henry baffled as to what to do. Tears were beginning to fall from her mangled face, gracing the ground with her agony. Just a puddle of nasty ink, slick as an oil spill. She sniffled and grit her teeth, glaring at the ground as though it had murdered a cute puppy. 

Tap.

She looked up. 

Buddy lifted a gloved hand to the glass, holding it above her inky fist. He looked at her, and for the first time, the two truly saw each other. There was something deeper in those broken eyes, something hurting, something that was...beautiful. Buddy lifted his other hand up, a whimper escaping his lack of a throat. Alice immediately softened. 

“You...y-you’re aware.” That scared her. But she didn’t recoil, oh no. She was in too deep for that now. “You’re...you’re like me.” She turned to look at the old man’s body, disappointed with his lack of a reaction. Then a thought occurred to her. “Wait, then...could you be...Henry?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe Wally? Johnny? W-who are you? You’re not….you’re not my usual wolf.” She stood up and rubbed her chin, pacing a little in her chamber. 

Buddy looked to Henry’s ghost. Both were remarkably confused. “How?” Henry asked, “Every time I’ve tried to phase through there she can’t see me. What’s changed?”

Buddy looked to Henry and rolled his eyes before pointing to his hat. Henry crossed his arms and chuckled. “Very funny Buddy. I don’t think you wearing a hat changes things that much.” 

“Did...did you say, Buddy?” Alice was staring right at them. 

“Wait, what? You can see me?!”

“Of course I can see-wait, no, no, that’s not right.” She looked to Buddy in confusion. “Your mouth isn’t moving, how are you-unless...you’re, you’re not...who’s talking?!” She banged on the glass in frustration. 

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Why can you suddenly hear me?! I’ve been trying to get your attention for how many goddamn loops now? How? Dammit, by the name of Joey Drew how!” Henry held his head in exasperation. “Ugggh! How much more ridiculous is this stupid studio gonna get?”

Alice’s gaze softened after that. “So then…” She looked to Buddy. “That isn’t coming from you, is it Boris...that’s...that’s Henry’s voice, but you’re not-and neither is-...Henry, where are you?” 

“Right in front of your face!” He hopped up and floated right in front of her, holding his hand against the glass now. “Look, I don’t know how to explain it, but I’ve been separated from my body. The pawn you’ve been tasking with things the last several loops is just that, an inky puppet filling my place.” He was talking so fast that it was hard to keep his breath. “But things are starting to change. Sammy can see AND hear me, and Boris-well, h-he’s not really Boris right now. He’s another employee, Buddy! He knows I’m here too!”

“H-how is any of this possible?” Alice shuddered, not just from the revelation, but from the cold. After all, the temperature changes when a ghost is nearby, colder than the ink could ever hope to be. She looked around, still unsure of where Henry truly was. “The story is changing...it hasn’t let up its grip in so long.” 

“So you know about the loops!” 

“Unfortunately, yes. You start to get the sense that it’s not just deja vu in your nightmares.” She pouted and held her hands over her heart. “If things are really beginning to slip, maybe...maybe this is our chance. I can’t stop you from completing my tasks, neither of us can move on until I give you your first assignment. But maybe we can find another route.” She smirked. Oh it was a devilish smirk. “Yes, I can see that working just fine. How do you feel about a little sidequest, my precious errand boy?”

“Can you please stop calling me that? I’m too old for this, by a lot.” Henry groaned.

Buddy snickered a little in the corner. Suddenly this was a lot more entertaining. Henry looked at him in exasperation.

Alice laughed, that hideous evil laugh, and yet, for once it wasn’t completely hideous. It almost sounded amused, innocently amused! She smiled. “Sorry deary, old habits die hard. But I may be able to help. You want to get out of here just as much as the rest of us, right? Well what if I told you I have an idea to get us out?” She looked to Buddy as she spoke, a playful smirk stretching her face.

Both men perked up at that. “You have my attention,” Henry replied. 

“Good. Listen up and listen well. You’ve gone through the elevator paths before to recover supplies for me. But have you ever gotten a glimpse at the second machine?” 

“The...the what now?”

“The ink machine prototype. It’s hiding in one of the staircases. If you can get it out from behind the boards, then maybe we can see about using it to rewrite the ending.” 

“Where were you with this information before?!” Henry grumbled. 

“Hey, we’ve been stuck on the same script for ages, don’t go blaming me for having to keep quiet. Besides, I only got the intel on it recently.” Alice huffed and crossed her arms, her chin upturned in that typical snooty actress manner. 

“Wait, intel? What intel?” Henry asked. “I thought everyone was afraid of you.” 

“They should be, most are. But there’s one who isn’t. In fact, I think he might be able to help you.” She smirked. “You remember Shawn, don’t you?” 

“Shawn Flynn? Of course, we passed his tape before, right Buddy?” 

Buddy nodded. He remembered Mr. Flynn. They hadn’t spoken much, but he recalled the complaining about the Bendy dolls every time he came to deliver him a new thread or fabric. He always cursed Mr. Drew for going for the cheap stuff and marking it up too high. He never took off that dumb hat of his either. It was always so dimly lit in his area, and the shade of the brim did little to make it any better, but he was stubborn.

“You may not recognize him the way he is now. Before you head over to meet the Projectionist, head back into Heavenly Toys and search the offices. He’ll be waiting there for you. Get him on board and he’ll wrangle up some help. With that second machine in our hands, maybe we can start to fix things permanently.” 

Buddy could see the stupid smile on Henry’s face. Man did that old geezer look excited. 

“Finally, about damn time.” He smirked, but it was quick to fall. “Wait, how can we communicate with him? Sure, you can hear me, but it’s obvious not everyone can, and Buddy can’t speak. Plus the corpse is gonna go wherever it’s supposed to go. I don’t have control.” 

Alice rubbed her chin in contemplation, her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure how we’ll get around it. But as that rat we once called a ‘boss’ so famously said, ‘you just have to believe.’” She looked incredibly repulsed saying that, enough that she spat on the ground. “Ew, no, no, never again.” She shook her head before refocusing. “It’ll work out somehow. Just be careful. You don’t want to go disturbing the Ink Demon while you’re out there.”

“Hard to do when you set me up for sabotage every time.” Henry crossed his arms. “Should I really be trusting you of all people, Campbell?” 

Alice hissed at that and banged on the window. “Do NOT call me that! I am an ANGEL!” And with that the shutters banged down, and the noise of the torture machine went off. “Oh god dammit!” 

Alice groaned and lifted it up a little from the bottom. Buddy had to cover his muzzle. She looked so silly peeking out from there, like something out of a blooper reel. “Sorry about that. Before you go, jam the door. If you let it close, you may not be able to come back here, and I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to talk to me again!” 

“What do you mean? Can’t you just use the loudspeaker?”

“Yeah, but who’s to say Joey won’t force the script to play instead? I may get cut off.” She flinched, the door was getting heavy. “Just go get the tools and get to work, alright? I’ll be with you shortly.” 

Henry groaned. “Alright, fine. But you better not lead us astray this time. Let’s go Buddy.” The ghost nudged him to the door so they could head out.

Meanwhile, Alice turned to the piper, glee encompassing her face. Only when she was sure they were gone did she speak.

“Did you hear that? We might finally get out! We’ll be beautiful again!” She did a girly little twirl and clapped her hands together. “Finally, the answer to my prayers! We’ll shut it all down and give that rat what for! Isn’t it exciting?”

The piper looked at her, clearly irritated as he undid his shackles. He gave a zombie-like groan. 

“Oh don’t you give me that. We might actually have some hope for once! Or at the very least, we won’t have to keep pretending anymore.” She sighed before heading backstage, off to her humble abode. 

Alice wandered into one of the green rooms. Or at least, that’s what it would have been if color existed in this realm. She’d made the lounge into her personal corner, complete with a shay to recline on, posters of her favorite animations, a mirror stationed for her preening and beautifying needs, and a plush collection that was comfy enough to sleep in. She picked up one of her angel dolls and carried it over to her mirror, sitting down to face herself. 

“Soon enough Alice, soon enough. We’ll be perfect, we’ll show him just how wrong he is after all these years. I know it.” She snuggled the little plush close to the good side of her face. “Just you and me, the way it was always meant to be, doesn’t that sound nice?” 

Alice hugged her doll against her heart, sighing dreamily at her reflection. "No more of this broken body, no more playing the villain. I'll finally be able to go home." She looked to the lights above her mirror. "I'll be with you soon Mama, I promise." 

But outside of Alice's little room, the Piper watched, an acute sadness visible in his eyes. He slipped out without a word and headed through the backways of the floor. Eventually he found his way back to the Heavenly Toys, basking in the lobby. Sitting behind the giant Boris plush were the friends he was looking for. 

Now, I understand you probably don’t speak garbled gibberish, and I don’t blame you. It’s a complicated language to learn for sure! So I’ve done you a favor and translated it here. I can’t just let you miss out on all the juicy gossip after all!

“Ey, Charley! Good tah see ya scallywag, you’re in one piece for a change! Did the angel go easy on ya?” There was the fisher, surprisingly cheerful while holding a hand of cards. 

The striker hopped up from where he was seated and clapped two of his hands. He too held cards. “Glad you’re back buddy! We were just about to start another round of ‘go-fish,’ want us tah deal ya in?”

“Um, ehm, maybe later Ed, maybe later.” The piper scratched the back of his head. “Fellas, I um...I got some news. And I’m not sure whether or not it’s good news.”

“Always straight to the point, here here!” The fisher chuckled. “What’s amiss Charles? Ya look like ya’ve seen a murderous siren. What’s on yer mind?”

The piper wrung his wrist before leaning against the wall, unsure of how to put it into words. “I-it’s Alice. S-she’s smiling!”

“Well sure, she smiles a lot! Always does when she’s about to rip you to shreds.” The striker laughed.

“No no, not that kind of smile! Like a happy smile, the kind someone with not-murdery thoughts would have! She was talkin’ to Henry again, had more errands ‘er something, I dunno. All sounds like French tah me. But even though he wasn’t talkin’ back, she kept reactin’ to ‘im, like she could hear somethin’ outta his mouth!”

Fisher raised his brow at that. “Really now? Never woulda guessed. So whatcha think it means?”

Piper shrugged. “I dunno, couldn’t really understand it. But I did hear her say somethin’ ‘bout Mistah Flynn.” 

“Mistah Flynn?” Striker asked, “What’s Shawny got tah do with anythin’? He hasn’t come out in a good long while.” 

Fisher rubbed his chin. “Ya think maybe she wants Henry to go see him?”

“But why?” Striker asked, hands on his hips. “He’s usually stuck below the floorboards, how would he even find the old grump?”

“I dunno guys, I just don’t know.” Piper sighed and rubbed his head. “All I know is that something’s changin’ around here, and we need to be on guard. I know the angel isn’t exactly the best, but if she’s had a change of heart, perhaps we should stop attackin’ her errand boy.”

“Awww, but it’s so fun!” Striker whined, “Besides, he’s the one swingin’ that stupid axe around. That’s just askin’ tah rumble!”

“Aye matey, he’s got a heck of an arm for an old geezer, scalleywag that he is.” Fisher nodded. “But ya have a point Charley. Maybe we’ve been too hard on him.”

Piper sighed. “I just wish he could understand us. I’d like to know why he’s helpin’ the angel tah begin with.” 

Striker shrugged. “Dunno, but other than that, he doesn’t seem so bad. Same with that Boris fella, he’s a top notch kinda guy.” 

“That’s another thing,” Piper noted, “Boris didn’t seem like himself today.”

“How so?” asked Fisher. 

“Well for one, he found his hat!”

“His hat? You mean from the days when we used tah chase him in the maze? Oh those were fun, he always got so spooked.” Striker giggled. “He never stood a chance when it was all three of us! But I’m glad he let us out of the box, that was nice of him. Maybe we shoulda gone easier on ‘im.”

“Yeah, not like he knew we were playin’ a game.” Fisher shook his head. 

Piper sighed and held his head in exasperation. “Look fellas, Boris was off. He had a hat, he was super expressive, I’ve never seen him so emotional before. He laughed for pete’s sake! I’m tellin’ ya, something’s gone screwy. We best be watchin’ our backs, somethin’ is off.” 

The other two butchers nodded. “Aye, we’ll be careful Charles, don’t ya be worrin’.” said Fisher.

“Yeah, we’ll be careful. Come on now, let’s deal you in. I was just about to ask Barley for an ace.” 

“Argh, drat it all! You took me lovely ace of hearts.” The Fisher sighed and handed his card over. 

“I’ll never understand why ya love that card so much.” Piper replied, chuckling as he sat down. 

“Simple, it’s good luck. If the ace ‘ah spades means death, then the ace ‘ah hearts must be its counter! Only makes sense.” 

“You’re weirdly superstitious buddy.” Striker replied. 

“Aye, comes with the territory. Every good pirate knows to be careful when the warning signs reveal themselves. Always a good idea to have an ace up your sleeve, especially the ace of hearts.”

Barley couldn’t have been more right. It always paid off to be smart with how you played your cards.

Chapter Text

Sitting in the cafe with Boris and Alice was something someone could really only do in a dream. But there Bella was, thoroughly enjoying her time with them. They were still waiting on Bendy and Fiero, but that was okay. She'd wait a lifetime if it meant getting to spend time with them. 

For now, though, she was enjoying her current company. They'd ordered some appetizers while they waited. Alice had suggested onion rings, though whether or not it was because they were good, or because they were the shape of her halo, was left to the imagination. 

"So you're the fine lady who made Mr. Fiero?" Alice asked her.

"Yep, in the flesh." She chuckled. 

"I simply must know everything darlin', how did you come up with such a charming little candlestick?"

"Yeah," Boris added, "We never got to see your name on the signature, everyone's been thinkin' he was made by some suave young man or somethin'."

Bella couldn't help but laugh at that. "What? Are you serious? No man, no matter how classy, could've come up with Fiero. They wouldn't have found him where I did." She giggled and daintily covered her mouth. "Truth be told, the inspiration comes from my old pal Carmen. He was nothing less than a gentleman, same with my old man. I figured they'd treat Bendy alright if they ever met, so I built him to give the demon a friend."

“Well golly gee,” Alice held her hands under her chin as she leaned on the table, her eyes fluttering daintily. Her smile was so warm and friendly, as cozy as a tavern fire with hot cocoa. “He sure is lucky to have a creator like you. My goodness, what a riot he is. Always so sweet to folks, even when everything goes wrong.”

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Boris lightly elbowed her. “You’ve been awful nice tah us all night. We haven’t had such polite company in a long time.” 

Bella blushed and hid her face a little in her shirt, clearly embarrassed. “Aw shucks folks, you’re turnin’ me redder than Santa’s cherry nose. You’re too kind, thank you.” She quietly poked out of her shirt, her heart still flustered. “Even if I have to go back tomorrow, it’s just nice to have some company. I’ve been so lonely for so long, almost forgot what it’s like to have friends.”

Alice pouted a little at that. The angel took the girl’s hands in her own for a moment. “You’re always welcome to hang with us sweetie, okay? We’d know better than anyone how important a friend can be. Ain’t that right Boris?”

The wolf nodded. “I dunno what I’d do without you and Bendy, Al. You’re my whole world.” 

Bella smiled softly as she squeezed her hands back. “You’re lucky Henry put you all together. Same with the Butcher Gang. It wouldn’t be a show without the whole cast.”

Alice nodded, her halo shining just as brightly as her smile. “He’s a wonderful man. I wish our worlds weren’t so far away, I’d invite him and all the animators over for brunch in a heartbeat.” 

Boris grabbed another onion ring and twirled it around his finger. “I’ll say. They’re a good bunch. I’d love to host a big ‘ol romp and have ‘em over to celebrate. Good food, plenty of dancin’ all the works. ‘Course, I’m not as great a party planner as Al is.” 

The angel giggled and tried to cover it with her shoulder. “Aw Bo, you’re too kind darlin’.” She smiled at Bella and put her hands on her shoulders. “Maybe for the next anniversary. We’re hitting a big one soon, aren’t we?” 

Bella nodded. “Let’s see, 1929 Little Devil Darlin’ came out, so it’s been what, thirty-four years since then? Give it one more and you’ll be at thirty-five, that’ll be a great number to celebrate.”

“Has it really been that long? Goodness, I certainly don’t feel that old.” Boris scratched his head. “Alice, am I goin’ gray already?”

“Boris,” she giggled, “We’re already black and white you silly pooch.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re right.” The wolf laughed. “Wonder if Henry ever had a design for us in color. I think I’d look spiffy with a nice green neckerchief, ya know? And Alice, you’d look great in a little blue dress and dancin’ shoes.”

The angel blushed a light gray and fanned herself. “Aw Boris! Ah ha ha!” She laughed daintily. 

Always the pretty little angel, some things never changed. But then she heard the artist beside them sniffling. Her cheeks were a little pink as she rubbed at her eyes, her lip bit. 

“Aw honey, what’s wrong?” The angel cooed.

The young artist sniffled a little as the angel pulled her in close. She really did have the warmest hugs, just the way Bella had imagined them. “You’re all so nice. Thank you.” She whispered. “I needed this.” 

Neither toon really knew what to do. But they looked at each other, and the message got across with the quick connecting of their pie cut eyes. If there was one thing they were good at, it was making folks smile, and now was no different. So they pulled out all the tricks to get that little bit of sunshine back in their guest’s face. They told jokes, they lollygagged on stories, and curious souls that they were, they asked a lot of questions. And Bella was happy, being surrounded by such warmth and love. They were some of the only friends she had, even if she thought it was all in her imagination. They’d have to be good enough, and frankly, as far as she was concerned, they were perfect. They stayed like that for a while, asking questions, telling stories, and it was alright. 

But while all that was going on, trouble brewed on the horizon. A certain Mr. Drew had Bendy and Fiero trapped on his desk, and he had no intention of letting them leave so quickly. After all, he had a scoop to get, and they were sure to have his answers. He grinned, that terrible, gnarly, malicious grin, as he looked down upon them with fondness in his eyes. Having such a beautiful drawing from a fan made his day, and with such heart and soul put into it, he could learn all that he needed to.

“Come back to who now, Bendy?” Joey smirked. “You poor gents, am I interrupting something? Because I can always come back later.” 

Bendy felt a little hot around the collar. Oh boy, were they in hot water now. “Ey! Joey, ol’ creator and pal o’ mine. How ya doin’?”

“I’ve been better, but it’s hard to complain about that when I’ve got bigger issues to deal with.” He leaned back and stuck his arms behind his head. “And yourself?” 

“Oh good, good. Sorry, I know, this isn’t where ya expected me to be, with Henry runnin’ ‘round the third little chapter and all. But ya gotta understand, I just had to see your new recruit in action! And she is such a doll, you picked well sir!” 

“Isn’t she a piece of work?” Drew laughed. “I mean look at the ink that graces this scene, such nice lines, such heart put in. She’s just the kind of artist I need.” He leaned back in real close, adjusting his monocle over his already dopey glasses. “And look at this, she’s even got a knack for design. Who might you be my good sir?” 

He poked Fiero in the stomach, to which the waiter nearly fell over, his coffee sloshing as he wobbled. Carefully, he set his tray down on the table and gave a bow. 

“Fiero sir, Fiero Kindleabra. Pleasure to meet you sir.” 

He didn’t have much to say, the poor candle was spooked to no end. Every toon worth their line work had heard of Joey’s reputation. He was a monster, worse than any kind you could find under the bed. Most bad bosses they could gloss over, the worst they could do was cancel their show, which admittedly was pretty bad. I mean losing all those followers, all those viewers every week with their endless love and adoration? Truly awful. But at least they still had fan artists and revival projects to keep them alive and safe. But Joey’s toons however, oh no, they weren’t off the hook. They were cancelled, but they were terribly cursed. No cartoonist had ever dared to try and pull a toon out of their homeland before Joey Drew. Fiero had been there the day that he first attempted it with Bendy. To call it scary would’ve been a gross understatement, it almost destroyed the demon, which made it even worse for poor Alice down the line. Fiero had no interest in being subjected to that. 

“Fiero, a pleasure to you as well.” Joey smirked. “What a charming fellow you are. My goodness, and so well blocked too. I can see exactly what she was going for.” Joey smushed his fists into his cheeks and sighed dreamily. “I can already tell I’m gonna love having Miss Ewe on my staff. What can you tell me about her?”

Fiero gulped. “I-I think you’d best just talk to her yourself sir.” He tried to hide his shivering, which was only mildly successful. “After all, I’m awful biased. She made me, of course I love her to pieces.”

But Joey could see past that tiny fib. It was true, there was absolutely a bias, but Joey knew that not every toon was honest about their feelings towards a creator. Bendy had slowly learned to have more acceptable behavior. This one would learn too. 

“But how am I supposed to make the best first impression without a little help?” He pouted. “I only want to treat her right, the lady deserves a good introduction.” 

Fiero didn’t like that at all. His flames would’ve been blue with heat if he hadn’t been rendered in black and white. “I-I know her well enough to know she’s pretty easy going. You don’t hafta worry about that with her, she hates it when folks make too much of a fuss.”

“Aw, you’re just being modest.” Mr. Drew grinned. That awful, malicious grin. “Tell me the truth, give me a little more to work with, candle boy.”

Fiero let out a horrible screech as Joey placed his own pen on the page, connected it with some of his linework. It burned, it burned worse than any fire he ever started! He screamed as Joey dragged his pen with its tainted ink over his details, struggling to get away but unable to escape.

“Tell me how you really feel.”

Fiero screamed again. “Let go of me! Get your tainted ink off’ah me! Stay away, get away from my girl!” He cried. The poor toon cried buckets of tears, all the darkest black that ink could manage.

“Stay away? I think not my good sir. You see,” he pressed a little harder, making the toon screech again in pain, “I need her. I need only the finest quality to reopen the studio in a few years. I can’t just have an anniversary celebration without an amazing comeback cartoon to go with it, can I?” He smirked. “And imagine, how happy your little lady would be to have you there too, adored by thousands, no, millions! Imagine how great it would feel to have all that spotlight!”

Fiero struggled against the pen that held him down. “I’m FINE with just my girl loving me! She’s MORE than enough! You leave her alone, she ain’t done nothing wrong to deserve the kind of hell you’ll give her!” He found his tongue again, and he couldn’t stop himself from letting on how he really felt. Drew asked for it? Well now he was gonna get it. “You made your staff miserable with those long hours and harsh deadlines. You pushed them all too far! Don’t you DARE think you can go doin’ that to my Bella! She is a queen among women, I won’t stand for you gettin’ involved in her life, she deserves better!” 

Joey merely rolled his eyes and pressed the pen down harder. Fiero only cried out more, but not once did he ask for help or mercy. He knew there was no point. Joey made sure to trace every minute area on his body, searing him so badly. Bendy knew he’d be sore for weeks.

Bendy was too frightened to do anything to stop him. He’d known how much it hurt, Drew had done it to him too many times when he was ‘disobedient.’ He knew he couldn’t stop it either, but it pained him to watch. But eventually Drew let up his pen, and Bendy went over and held the candle close to him, his heart heavy as the flame laid against his chest. He was in rough shape.

“Joey...didja have tah go so hard on him?” He asked meekly.

Joey grumbled. “Well of course, what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t take such matters seriously? This is your comeback, Bendy, the time for you and your friends to finally shine again! Every detail must be perfect, and we’re running out of time!” 

He sighed and leaned on his desk tiredly. “My old bones can’t make this animation at its best anymore. I need her Bendy, she’s the perfect one for the job. Just look at where you are, look at this potential!” He gestured to the drawing. “She’s almost as good as Henry was, and with a little training, she’ll be my lead animator. And then I can go about finding more for my cause, we’ll find a replacement for everyone. It’ll be wonderful.”

“And then you’ll set them free?”

“Of course, I can’t keep them in the studio forever, just until the time is right.” He smirked. "Belphene gets their souls, I get their talents, and the whole studio gets its legacy.” 

Bendy nodded. He knew that wasn’t really freedom, selling their souls to a demon was just about the polar opposite of free. But maybe Belphene would be merciful and set them loose. Bendy knew she’d be a laughing stock among demons to do so, but he had hope that maybe she’d be better. At least, he had faith that she’d let most go. There was one she couldn’t release, one that needed to be locked up forever and devoured. Just thinking about it almost made him hungry. Almost. 

“Are we done here, Mr. Drew? I don’t wanna cut things short, but ya kind of got us on the way to dinner. And you know us toons, always overreactin’ when things get messy. I don’t wanna upset the chef.” 

“Of course, of course, how rude of me to keep you. We can certainly make more arrangements later if need be.” He grinned. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fiero. I look forward to doing business with you.” 

And as Joey took the monocle off, they were thrust back to where they were. Fiero was still crying in Bendy’s arms, struggling to regain his composure.

“You CAN’T let him take her Bendy! Please, you just can’t! He’s going to ruin her, he’s going to break my creator, I-I can’t bear the thought of it!” He sobbed.

“I’m sorry candle head...but I don’t have any power here. There’s nothing I can do to change his mind, only to lessen the blows.” The demon whispered.

Bendy felt a heaviness in his heart. He couldn’t protect anyone. Not his fellow toons, not the humans on the other side of the page, and especially not Henry, who tried so, so hard to protect him from Drew. He was never able to defend his creator, no toon could. Creators in and of themselves were powerful beings, they could control almost every aspect of a toon’s life. But the ones with the power over their creators? Now that was a tricky thing to overcome. One might argue you had no chance of that whatsoever. Bendy refused to believe that one though. If Joey could thrust his creator, his true creator, into a pocket dimension made like a cartoon, then maybe it could be re-animated and fixed. He was hopeful that one day, someone would get his people out of there, so he could stop being the ink demon. So he could stop hurting everyone. 

So he could stop being weak.

He could see the fear in Fiero’s eyes. His flame was dim, his body was scorched. The evil ink from Joey’s studio was a horrible thing, it hurt everyone it touched. Bendy looked to make sure no one was watching, not that there was anyone else there, and carefully pressed his palm into the candle’s chest. He breathed softly, carefully drawing the tainted ink to his hand, and carefully pulling it out in a floating stream, forming it into a little ball in his hand.

“He’s a smart man, but he’s also an idiot if he thinks I’m gonna let this stay in you.” With a spin of the ball on his fingertip, it morphs into a top hat, which the demon quickly put over his horns. “I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll do my best to delay the inevitable. Maybe by then Belphy will have a plan to help us.” He sighed. 

“H-he poisoned me...would that have poisoned her too?”

Bendy nodded. “Just a little exposure can latch on. I don’t want this nasty stuff touching her, she’s too sweet of a soul to corrupt.” He shook his head and whistled. “Just the time I’ve spent with her is enough to convince me of that.”

“What? You mean years of hanging out with me weren’t good enough?” Fiero smirked weakly.

“Yeah, you’re a chump, didn’t ya know?” Bendy chuckled. “I kid, I kid. But honestly, you’re a swell fella, and now I see why. She’s just as charming. It’s easy to see why he wants her, and he doesn’t even know it yet…” He held Fiero upright a little more, dusting off his vest. “Let’s get ya cleaned up, then we can go meet them? She ain’t waking up for a while, Belphy promised me as much.”

Fiero nodded. “Okay...but she’ll know I’m not myself going in there. How do we-” 

“Don’t worry, I have a cover story for that. Just follow my lead.”

Back at the cafe, Bella leaned into Boris’ shoulder, tired and rubbing her eyes. Despite being in her early twenties, and in a dream for that matter, she wasn’t above the childish ways that children would tucker themselves out. She swung her legs a little, her eyelids droopy, until the sound of the bell at the front door perked her up. She looked to the entrance, only to find her beloved candle and the dancing demon walking in, both looking worse for wear with all the bandages on their bodies. The artist hopped up and ran over to them, pulling them into the tightest hug a human could manage. 

“Fellas, you’re here! Oh goodness, what happened? Who hurt you?” She pouted and looked her toon in the eyes, her lip quivering. 

Fiero felt so guilty going along with the plan, but before he could say anything, Bendy piped up. 

“Eh, just had a little run in with a few crooks, nothing major. You know how it is, people see a demon and they get all panicky.” He nudged her shoulder a little with a playfulness in his voice. “It’s alright little lady, we’ll be okay. Though admittedly, I’d have been toast if not for your candle here. He’s the one that really gave ‘em a wallop to remember!”

Bella sniffled a little and grinned, a small giggle escaping her as she hugged her creation again. “Well that goodness you’re here and not pancakes on the pavement. That’s my Fiero, as brave as he is gentlemanly!” 

Fiero felt his gut sinking even more, but being in her grasp made it more bearable. The way she held him, the softness in her touch yet the firmness of her grip. Her warmth was just as heated as his flames, it felt so nice to melt into. Being in her arms left a fella feeling mighty protected, like a guardian angel, one that would never let you fall to harm. He wished his grasp felt as wonderful, that he could protect her back. He wanted to be as brave as she thought he was, more than anything. But for now, all he could do was let her hold him, be safe in her arms. He felt tears in his eyes. 

“You’re one hell of a doll Bella...I’m so glad you’re my creator.” He leaned into her touch and cried softly. “Don’t you ever lose that spark, okay?” He sniffled. “I wanna have you around for a long time, so we can go on adventures together.”

Bella squeezed him tighter at that. “You’re a good friend Fiero. I’m not going anywhere for a long time.” She left a peck on his cheek. “You seem awful spooked, let’s get you some ice cream, okay? Give you chills for the right reason.” 

He laughed at that, finally cracking a smile. So he walked with her to the table, flagged the waiter down, and they got themselves a hefty set of desserts. There was snickerdoodle ice cream for Fiero, mint chocolate chip for Bella, cookies and cream for Boris, and Bendy and Alice decided to go nuts and split a bigger sunday. It was a classic neapolitan overtop of a marbled angel and devil’s food cake.

“It’s one of our specials. We call it “Limbo’s Luxury.” Fiero explained. 

“Though I’ll tell ya, it took forever to name! We fought about it for ages,” Bendy said in exasperation, “Slice of Heaven, Taste of Hell, Eternal Bliss, Appetizing Afterlife, it went on forever.” 

“But Limbo is a nice inbetween for the two of us.” Alice giggled. “Chocolate and vanilla, and a hint of strawberry so our favorite wolf is included.” 

“Aw shucks, you guys!” Boris blushed a little and hid behind his tail. 

Bella giggled. “You three are a riot. You’re just like siblings!” 

“Well, I mean that ain’t far off. We were all made by the same person, so it stands to reason that we’re all related somehow.” Bendy snickered and elbowed Alice. “Might explain why you’re such an annoying little sister.” 

“Excuse you mister! You may be older, but I am far more mature!” Alice nudged him back with a smirk on her face. 

“Wait, didn’t Susie technically make Alice?” Boris tapped his chin in thought. 

“Yeah, but I always considered that a joint effort. Just like how Franks inspired both of us.” 

“Wait, really?” Bella held her chin in curiosity. “I don’t think I’ve heard this story. Were you really made by your voice actress Alice?” 

Alice nodded. “Oh it’s a darling little tale, you’ve got to hear it!” 

-Flashback-

Joey had many ideas. Some were brilliant, and others kind of sucked. This was one of those that was pretty dumb. He’d created “company appreciation week,” having the workers do each other’s jobs. So on Monday, they all went and helped Shawn in the plush factory, making all kinds of merchandise. Bendy ended up as a werewolf that day after a factory error. On Tuesday, they helped clean the studio from top to bottom. No one dared speak of what they found in the bathrooms, they swore an oath. Wednesday, Sammy had an awful headache from everyone trying to play in the band. Thursday was tolerable, they got very silly in the writing department.

And finally, Friday came. Friday was Henry’s day to shine, the day he led everyone in the animation department. So he squished the desks and tables together, supplied paper and pencils for everyone, and made sure to have slides ready to demonstrate his points. Norman, who quite frankly was done with the shenanigans of the week, opted to sit out and operate the projector, slipping the slides in and out as Henry requested.

“Alright,” the animator said, “There are many factors that contribute to making a successful cartoon character. Would anyone care to name a few?” 

“They gotta be handsome!” Wally blurted out. 

That got a few chuckles from the crowd. Henry had to try and stifle his laughter. Wally always brought some pep into the room. 

“Yes, that is rather important.” He turned to a whiteboard and wrote ‘appeal.’ “A character needs to be appealing. That can mean a lot of things. The traditional idea of being attractive, use of contrast to make them stand out, and a hold load of artistic principles. But we’ll get back to that in a bit. Can anyone else name something that makes a good cartoon design?” 

“Easy tah draw!” Shouted Shawn. “If yah hafta be drawin’ the fella all day, it has to be easy tah replicate.” 

“Right on the nose Shawn, excellent!” Henry smiled.

“Aye, just understand, what’s easy for you on the storyboards ain’t always easy for us in the plush department. The amount of embroidery and face painting we have to get right is insane!” 

“I hear you bud, I hear you.” Henry chuckled. “We’ll try to make it a little easier for the future. That’s actually part of what we’ll be doing today. Everyone has a pencil and paper on their desk. Once we’ve gotten through our discussion, I’m gonna have each of you design a character of your own, and we’ll talk about how feasible they’d be in a real cartoon.” He smirked. “And if Shawn has anything to say about it, the merch side as well.” 

“Yer a gem Mr. Stein! I’ll try tah go easy on ‘em. I take it I’ll be a harsher critic than you.” Shawn laughed, one of those deep belly laughs that gets the people around you to smile with how contagious it is. 

Henry clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s get through this, then we can get to the fun stuff!” 

The head animator managed to keep them on track for most of the lesson, inviting his fellow animators up there to help explain things. Dave and Abby were a bit shy, but with Henry’s gentle guidance, they put on a worthwhile presentation. Lots of artistic principles and guidelines were thrown around, simple shapes and breakdowns too, but it was incredibly basic. Most people in the room weren’t visual artists after all, but Henry wanted them to feel good about it. 

And so they went to work at drawing. So many interesting characters came to life that day, all with bits of the people that made them tucked cleverly inside. Henry marveled at their creativity. Wally had such a funny imagination. He made a little raccoon handyman, holding a wrench with a slick little cap on his head.

“I call him Sprocket,” he declared. “He’s a helpful little fella, can fix practically anything and keeps things tidy. He’d make a good assistant, I think, so long as he doesn’t cause any trouble.” The janitor smirked.

“He definitely has some mischief in his eyes. He’s got character Wally, good work. I’m impressed!”

Henry then spied Sammy’s drawing, which puzzled him for a moment. It was a tiny girl with large butterfly wings. They almost looked like they were made of leaves. Her hair was curly, her smile was innocent, and in some poses, she held a little wand that looked like a conductor’s baton. 

Sammy grew sheepish when he saw the artist watching him. “My um, my niece’s been going through a phase lately, always wants me to read her the picture books about fairies.” He shook his head, a slightly dopey smile on his face. “I went as far as to compose a little ditty for her, and now I can’t come in the house without her asking me to play it.” 

“Awww, that’s so sweet!” Susie cooed. “She’s gonna love this little fae!” 

“Fae...that’s not a bad name ya know.” Henry chuckled.

“I was thinking something more refined, like Melody or Lyric, but I suppose that works too. I think, maybe...Faye Sonatina. That sounds pretty, don’t you think?” Sammy asked. 

“I think so. Someone who can work well in a group, but still shines when she stands alone.” Henry could see the smirk on the band director’s face. 

“You remembered?” 

“It’s hard not to when you pound it into my skull every day.” The animator joked. But it was true, he found value in Sammy’s ramblings about music, there was always something to be learned from it. “Does she play any instruments, or do you think she’s more of a vocalist?”

“I’d say a bit of both, though I have no idea what she’d play. It’d have to be something whimsical, something refined-”

“How about a harp?” Shawn shouted from across the room. 

“Why, yes, that would be perfect.” Sammy quirked his brow. “What made you think of that?” 

“Oh nothin’, just Jack drawin’ a little harp lady on his page!” Shawn grinned, but Jack hid a little under his hat. Poor fella was awfully shy, often kept to himself so he could have some peace and quiet. Shawn was very loud sometimes. 

Henry popped over to look at Jack’s board, and he was delighted by what he saw. Object-based toons weren’t something that happened much at JDS, save for a few dancing chairs, so to see his creativity with a living harp was kind of adorable. Jack had given her a round face at the highest part of the harp, with a dramatic veil over one eye and a flower tucked into her bun. She had two arms in order to play her strings that were noodley, yet somehow, they were elegant. She could rotate her head in a full circle from the looks of it, which was a bit off putting, but hey, cartoons didn’t need to be realistic.

“I-I was thinking of the name Lyric too,” Jack whispered. “She’s a bit dramatic, maybe stuck up, but it’s only because she cares about her craft.” He winked over to Sammy, who immediately looked away in embarrassment. Wally snickered a little at that. They all knew that was Sammy in a nutshell, but that was exactly why it was funny. He was a drama queen, but at least he had a good heart behind it all. 

“She’s wonderful Jack. I think she’d pair nicely with Sammy’s Faye over there, they work well together.” Henry quirked his brow as he noticed what Norman was up to over by the projector. “Norman, I thought you said you didn’t want to draw.” 

“Well I changed my mind. It looked like fun.” He said gruffly before thrusting the paper into Henry’s hands. “Get a load of this little guy. Ain’t he cute?” 

Henry didn’t know what to say to that. Puzzled, Sammy walked over and looked at the paper too. “Norman, it’s literally a projector.” 

“Yeah, but he’s a toon, ain’t he? I think he’s charming.” 

Henry stifled a chuckle as he looked at the design. Sammy wasn’t wrong, this toon was literally a projector with arms and legs. He wore a nice suit, something you’d see at a formal concert, with a monocle styled like a lens cap over his eye. He had two epaulets styled like reels on his shoulders, which was cute. 

“I like him, he’s certainly original,” Henry replied. 

“See, someone here gets my genius.” Norman smirked at Sammy and booped him on the nose. “Your little fairy girl could use someone to help them with a concert, so there ya go, a nice assistant.” 

“Hmmph.” Sammy turned around, accidentally whacking Norman in the face with his ponytail. 

They poked a little fun at each other, but Henry wasn’t paying much attention to that. His eyes fell to Susie, who was humming as she doodled. Henry knelt down next to her seat and examined her paper. On it was the most precious little angel he’d ever seen. She had a short black dress and neat black hair, with a shining little halo over her head. There was a cute little beauty mark under her eye, just like Susie had, and she had those chubby cherub cheeks. But interestingly, she had garters that didn’t look like they were holding anything, unless of course she had white tights under those black ballet flats. Even more curious was she had two horns beneath her halo, and no wings.

“Susie, she’s stunning,” he finally said. “Where on Earth did you get an idea like this?”

Susie giggled. “Aw, thanks Henry! My mama has this cute little angel for our Christmas tree, calls her Alicia. She’s a sweet little thing, I started wondering what she would look like as a cartoon, but this is kind of spiraled into something new.” She sighed. “Sadly she’s so old now that her halo keeps falling off, and it doesn’t float either, just sits on her head like a crown. I wanted my angel to have something to keep her halo on, so horns ought to do it.”

“So how come she’s got no wings?” Wally asked as he got closer to look.

“She hasn’t earned them yet! She’s a younger angel, still in training. But one day, she’ll get them, and she’ll get to shine and do good everywhere!” Susie grinned.

“Oooh, ooh! Maybe she was sent down to teach Bendy a lesson or two, and that’s why she’s got horns! So she doesn’t scare ‘im!” Wally grinned right back. “That’s why they sent her down to Earth, like he’s her assignment or something!” 

“Oooh, I love it! Wally you genius!” Susie leapt up and hugged him, leaving a peck on his cheek, much to Sammy’s envy. 

“That’s so sweet. Little Alice Angel...now that’s something I can get behind.” 

Henry saw something lovely in her that day. She really was the sweetest angel from above, and that was a story worth telling. Long after that meeting ended, Henry and Susie would meet a dozen more times to iron out her details and get her down. And not long after, he was excited to tell her that she’d be voicing the character, after lots of fighting with Joey to make it happen. After all, she’d given her life, it was only right that she go the full nine yards. Alice was practically the younger sister Susie had never had, and she loved that about her. Both were beautiful, and everyone agreed on that. 

-End of Flashback-

“Wow, that’s so sweet!” Bella gushed. She’d finished her ice cream during the story, spoon resting softly in the parfait glass. “Susie and Henry did a great job, you’re so lucky! But whatever happened to the other toons made that day?”

“Oh they’re around,” Alice replied, “They show up in the background a few times for shorts. There was a full length production they wanted to make, Bendy’s Big Musical they called it, where everyone was supposed to appear, but it never saw the light of day. It’s a shame too, I know Faye and everyone else would’ve loved to perform.” She sighed, but she was quick to return to her cheeriness. “But it’s not like they aren’t still around. We’ve got a little apartment complex on the edge of town, all the JDS toons live there.” 

“Really? You think I could visit sometime?” Bella asked hopefully.

“I don’t see why not,” Bendy smirked. “We’d love tah have ya dollface, and I’m sure they would too.” 

“Aye,” Boris added, “Maybe we can bring you over for dinner another night when they have a shown.” 

“Wait, they perform?” Bella asked.

“Well of course, what do you think we do all day, sit around and play cards?” Bendy laughed. “Nah, not unless you’re over at the casino part of the isles. We have a big ‘ol theater, and a few smaller ones, where retired or scrapped toons go to show off. Gotta have a little fun when your show is over, ya know?” 

“Oh, of course, that makes perfect sense,” Bella smirked over to Fiero. “Have you ever considered going there?” 

“What? Miss Bella, I-I hardly think that’d be appropriate.” Fiero blushed. “I mean sure, I’ve been in the audience before, who can resist a good show? But performing? Me? No way!”

“Aw come on bud, I know you can. You are a phenomenal fire juggler, and on top of that, I know damn well you can sing.” She teased. 

“I can?” 

“He can?” The other toons asked in confusion.

Bella laughed. “Of course he can! The whole idea Carmen and I had was that he’d work in this singing, broadway themed cafe at night, all snazzy in a suit and getting everyone to swoon.” She sighed dreamily. “And that’s where he’d meet the gal of his dreams, a little poodle that painted portraits. And then it’d go into this whole “noir mystery” kind of story where the two had to clear his name for something he got framed for. We never got around to making it though, and I feel wrong working on it without him.” She sighed, but it almost sounded like a groan. “Some days I wish he hadn’t moved away, or at least that he’d write more. I’d love to make it a comic strip that goes back and forth, but I can’t do it without him.” 

“Whatever happened to Carmen anyway?” Fiero asked. “You just sort of stopped talking about him after a while, I never really caught how that ended.” 

Bella sighed and leaned against his shoulder, a bit blue. “Well, for a while there he was working for a little claymation and puppet theater. Got popular enough that he got noticed and hired by a big ol’ studio down in Florida.” She sighed. “I haven’t heard from him ever since he got his big break. Right around that time, my old man got sick, and well...as much as I wanted to go with him, I couldn’t.” 

“Aw, dollface.” Bendy looked at her sadly. “Maybe you should write him a letter sometime. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you again. Who knows? The future can hold all kinds of adventures. You never know what’ll happen next!” 

“It’s true, I’m sure he misses you. You’ve both just been so busy, I’m sure he’d at least try to write back, right?” Alice chipped in.

Bella nodded. “You’re not wrong. I suppose it’s worth a shot, though lord knows I’ll struggle to find his current address.” She chuckled. 

“Hey, don’t you worry, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, miss.” Boris patted her back. “It all works out one way or another.”

“Indeed. It all works out, one way or another,” Fiero repeated, singing it softly in her ear. He held her close in that moment. What a blessing it was, to be a toon capable of meeting his creator. He loved her dearly. That was one good thing Bendy’s studio had brought him at least. It was unlikely she’d have found a path to Toontopia without him.

Bella yawned a little, smiling softly as her eyes drooped. “I don’t wanna have to leave yet, but I have to wake up soon, don’t I?” 

“Hey, your doctors said to rest, didn’t they? Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, dollface, I’ll make sure you wake up on time. Here, I feel bad the two of us missed out on all the fun. How about we take you on one last stop before the night’s over, eh? Little walk in the park.” 

Bella nodded. “I’d like that. Though you may have to carry me, my legs feel like jello after all that dancing.” 

“Still? Well not to worry, I’ve got a solution for that.” Bendy chuckled. 

He headed over to pay the staff of the establishment before they headed out, with Fiero carrying the girl in his arms. She was taller than the toons, but she was still short, which made her easy to hold. There wasn’t much of interest to report after that, just a nice little carriage ride through the park, with all the flowers blooming under the soft lamplight. Bella sadly couldn’t stay awake for it all, slowly drifting back to sleep, fading out of their little haven and back into a more normal part of the dream realm. 

Bendy sighed in the carriage, looking to the others. Everyone looked glum and chilly once she was gone. “Guys...we have some major problems up ahead. Joey’s up to no good. We hafta keep her spark alive, otherwise, he’s gonna squash so much more than just her.” His expression was grim.

“What’s he doing now? I thought he was done torturing our crew.” Alice whined. Boris whimpered, holding the angel closer to him. 

Fiero crossed his arms. “Something awful, I can assure you. We’re going to need all of you if we want any hope of stopping him. The only way out of a cartoony mess is to fight it with every brand of chaos we’ve got.”

“And that’s completely doable. But we’re gonna have to pull double duty here. I can’t be the only one sneaking around the studio anymore. We need the others.” Bendy added. 

“You don’t mean-”

“I do angel, I do. You gotta start talkin’ in their heads more, same with you ‘n Buddy pal. We’ll see if we can get Chandler in on it too. Bottom line is, our creators need us. We have a chance to make sure Joey doesn’t hurt them anymore, and I’ve got a plan to make it happen.” 

Unfortunately for Bendy, he wasn’t the only one with a plan.

Chapter Text

Charley had tried to get the thought of the weirdness going on out of his head, but thus far, he hadn’t been successful. Even after getting his butt whooped at cards for five hands in a row, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. So, while he may have been a brute in a past life, he excused himself like the gentleman he wished to be and headed off to the backways, to see if he could dig up more information. After all, the more he studied Henry and Boris, the more he could learn about what was happening. 

But boy, was it hard to find them. 

Henry and the wolf were going about their usual chores in the studio. But this time, when the man walked alone, Boris exited the elevator and went in another direction. Charley couldn’t help but find that odd. Boris had never gone out on his own before. But then again, he’d never worn a hat in here either. Charley quietly followed from the backways, making sure he wasn’t seen as the wolf walked around.

Buddy was quietly exploring while the corpse did the dirty work of Alice’s chores. Sadly, the angel hadn’t come on over the loudspeaker yet. Buddy didn’t know why, but he was hoping she’d chat with them again. Though it would’ve been futile. It’s not like he could respond after all. But something in his gut made him wish he could talk to her. 

Heh, his gut, he sighed internally at the thought. Gut feelings were always more of Dot’s department. God he missed her. What he would’ve given to hear her laughter, see her smiling face again. What he would’ve given to go back, to spend his nights at the bar with the old gang again. The late forties weren't the best time in history, but it was home, it was where the people he loved were. God, it was tough to think about. He wished he had thought to ask Henry before, to ask what year it was, learn what had changed. How long had he been stuck in here? 

But he couldn't say anything now. There was no place to write, and no time to stop moving. The angel wasn't watching them, but someone else was. He could feel it. The studio had eyes everywhere, eyes and ears that knew everything. Just getting too close to puddles as they walked, he could hear chilling whispers floating in the air, a cluster of voices calling out to drag him under. It was terrifying to think about. He remembered being beneath the ink. Even if it was for a brief moment, he remembered fighting the demon. He never wanted to see that awful creature again, but he knew full well that it was lurking around here. It had to be. 

Henry floated ahead to light his path, a spectral guide in this shell of a studio. He knew where he needed to go usually, but having a little freedom while the corpse did the dirty work? Well now he didn’t know what to do with himself. So he and Buddy had agreed to search for Shawn, and their first direction was to find the second ink machine. Henry had doubted that it existed, but hey, Alice didn’t have a reason to mess with them further, at least not yet, he reasoned. 

They meandered through the hallways for a while, but they didn’t find anything noteworthy. A few close calls with some searchers, but nothing out of the ordinary. Thankfully, Buddy was quick on his feet, but Henry noticed he was getting more and more sluggish as they went. Maybe that was why Boris stayed in the elevator, he thought, his stamina was awful. But that thought led to another.

“You’re lookin’ a little tired bud. How about we get you some soup?” 

Buddy nodded at that. He didn’t like the idea of how old and rank that soup was, but there was something oddly comforting about it. He was also glad that it wasn’t real bacon, despite what the labels may have told you. They’d used turkey bacon to cut costs, kosher slaughtered too. He'd overheard it from Dot snooping around. At least that was one thing he hadn’t disappointed his mother with. 

They decided to go search for a soup station. Buddy vaguely recalled there being one somewhere closeby, but it felt odd. He hadn’t been here before as far as he could remember. Perhaps this was one of Boris’ memories peaking through. Whatever the case may be, they went along, and finally, they found a can. It wasn’t much, but the wolf was all too eager to gulp it down, hardly checking for any danger as he slurped it up. Henry winced a little, but he still wore a smile. He imagined he hadn’t been any more mannerly when he grabbed it in a pinch either. Gosh, the way their loved ones would’ve scolded them for being such pigs. He could just hear Linda in his head, telling him to slow down. ‘Stay at the table a little longer,’ she’d said, ‘you need to get away from that desk. It’s practically sucking the soul out of you.’ 

Little did he know how true it was. His soul did belong to his characters, just as much as his heart belonged to his family. For now, at least he could help Buddy.

But just as the wolf was finishing his snack, they heard a clang, metallic and chaotic as it rang out. Buddy jumped and hid behind Henry, not that that would do much given he was a ghost, therefore making him a terrible hiding spot. Henry looked in the direction of the noise, noticing a small face with crossed out eyes peering back. Swiftly, the creature pushed over a crate and ran off, grunting as it scurried away.

Hey, come back! Buddy thought to himself. Where’d that thing run off to? It’s not like I’m a threat, unless- 

Buddy’s ears started to ring. He looked to Henry. The old ghost let out an irritated sigh, though his eyes betrayed him, shuddering fearfully. “We need to get out of here. To the miracle station, NOW!” The ghost hurried off, floating ahead. 

The wolf ran after him, panting as he went. The light of Henry’s spectral form was all he could see in the growing darkness. Everything was cast in a veil of shade, inky tendrils cracking through the walls. A heartbeat started pounding in their ears, though Buddy didn’t know if it was his own or another’s. But he kept going, he had to. He couldn’t let danger come to Henry. He was lost down here without him. 

He’d be even more lost underneath the ink. 

Slam! 

Buddy made it safely into the miracle station with Henry, the door latched firmly shut. They’d made it, it was okay. The wolf was shivering, colder than cold could be with fear, but the warmth of Henry’s hand could be felt rubbing his back. He hadn’t been able to feel the old man’s touch before. After all, he was a ghost, he couldn’t really touch much. But his hand, it felt...it felt warm. Very warm. Cozy, comforting, like a welcome into a hearth room, with the fireplace going and people making merry. 

Buddy turned around and hugged the ghost, holding him tightly in his arms, as though he’d disappear. Henry was a bit surprised, but he hugged back, just grateful to feel someone’s touch again. It’d been so long...so long.

“It’s alright Buddy. It’s alright.” He said. His voice was too fatherly for his own good. “We’ll be okay. The demon will pass sooner or later, then we can leave.” 

But the dark tendrils on the wall weren’t leaving. Both men peered out the peephole, confused, and to a lesser extent, afraid. Or at least, lesser in Henry’s case. That was odd. No demon in sight, but the walls were crawling with his essence. The malicious heartbeat of their captor was all too audible, dragging on like a funeral dirge. Henry looked to Buddy. 

“I’m going to step out and take a look. You stay here, I’ll be right back.”

But as the ghost went to move towards the door, Buddy grasped for his wrist. No, don’t leave me! He wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

It seemed some force beyond their imaginations could hear his plea, for the moment Henry touched the door, he jolted back, screaming. The golden ink pooled in his eyes, creeping down his face in the form of tears, as the pain in his sides grew sharp and swift. He fell backwards into Buddy’s arms, but suddenly, he was gone! Buddy looked to the left, then the right, then everywhere frantically, confused as to what had happened.

Henry? HENRY! Where are you! His mind screamed. He could feel himself hyperventilating, his breath sharp, his body freezing, like the walls were closing in. His eyes were shut tightly. It was too much, everything was happening at a mile a minute, he felt like he was drowning, how claustrophobic, everything falling apar-

“Buddy!” 

What? Where?

“Buddy! Buddy?” 

That voice. Henry! Henry was...

“Henry?”

“Buddy! Thank goodness, you’re-”

“Henry, w-where are you?”

“I...I can hear you.” Henry shuddered, his eyes felt wider. “I can...hear you. Buddy, wha-your voice! You have a voice!” 

Buddy reached to touch his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. “No...that’s not right. I’m not...I’m not talking. I’m-”

“-Thinking. You’re thinking!” Henry shuddered, holding his arms, and in turn, Buddy could feel himself shiver. 

“Wait, why am I-”

“-I don’t know. I don’t understand, the door hasn’t ever repelled me before. But then you latched onto me and...Buddy, I think we’re in the same body. Your body.”

“But how is that possible? You said you couldn’t possess your own body, so why can you possess mine?!” 

Henry shrugged. “I’m not sure. But you share a space with Boris, right? And he’s not here, so I guess there’s room for me.” 

The old man forced their eyes open. He held up his hands to get a closer look. Four fingers, large white gloves, arms as skinny as slim jims, but still furry nonetheless. Yep, they were both Boris. Henry gripped one of their hands into a fist, flexing the fingers.

“You know, somehow this still isn’t the weirdest thing that’s happened while I’ve been stuck in here.”

“Wait, then what is?”

“Let’s hope you never find out Buddy. Now come on, we have to hurry. This part is one of the longer sections of the story, but I’ve gotten efficient at getting through it. We don’t have much time.” 

And so they left the miracle station, the inky veins of the wall now having disappeared. They shifted gears towards tracking down the piper. He was far too aware to just be a regular goon, they needed to see what he was up to. Maybe that would lead them to Shawn.

Meanwhile, Charley had scurried away, the Ink Demon hot on his tailcoats. He had no way to get away, a miracle station wouldn’t let him in! He didn’t want to be destroyed, not again. He was never going back to the well of voices, never!

But alas, here he was, trapped in a corner. There was no way out, he couldn’t get away. Not this time. The demon leered over him, his smile wicked and his heartbeat pounding. It hurt the piper’s poor ears. He cried as he curled up into a ball on the floor. 

“Please, no! Don’t send me back! Don’t send me-”

Thwack!

“Ey! Pick on someone yer own size!” 

The ink demon turned his head around, a terrifying one hundred eighty degrees, to glare into the one who vexed him. It was a large searcher, one of the largest to ever exist in the studio, with brutish fists and a hulking figure. It wore a trilby on its head, one of the few scraps of humanity it had left. And while it had no eyes, the demon knew it was glaring right back at him. Slowly, he shifted gears, his corrupted hands aimed right for the searcher as he tried to corner it.

“Just try me ya sonofabitch!” The searcher threw another plank of wood, knocking the demon off balance. It slipped under the ink, popped back up by Charley, and slipped back under, taking them both away to safety. 

The piper gasped for air as he reformed back on the surface, coughing up something awful as he was laid out to dry. The searcher had brought him back to Heavenly Toys, his domain. Barley and Edgar rushed over, checking to make sure he was all in one piece.

“Charles! Charles lad, speak to us ya scallywag!”

“What happened out there?!” Edgar shrieked. He held Charley close to his chest, crying a little. “What’re you doin’, gettin’ yourself into danger?”

The searcher sighed and took off his hat, rubbing his head before putting it back on. “He’ll be fine soon enough lads. Just ‘ad a close encounter with the big guy.” 

“The ink demon?! You two survived the ink demon?” Edgar whined.

“Aye, you lads are brave, I can’t believe you’d go and risk yerself for one of us Shawn. Yer a gem.” Barley saluted him before tending to Charley again. “I’m sure Charles is thinkin’ the same.” 

The searcher rubbed the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. “It twas nothing fellas. I’m jus tryin’ tah knock ‘im off his high horse. He’s been a thorn in our side for too long, dont’cha think?” He sighed. “Look, just let the fella breathe a while, he’ll be right as rain in no time.” 

Shawn gave Charley a pat on the head before slinking back off to the toy workshop. He knew the piper would be fine, but just in case, he decided to take precautions. The hulking searcher squeezed through the tiny door frame and latched onto the wall to pull himself along. He groaned as he grabbed at the floor and crawled back to his work table. How inconvenient it was, to not have legs anymore. He could only imagine how tough it was for poor Jack. Poor fella had lost his legs not long before the downfall of the studio. The lack of any ramps made it hard for him to work, especially in the sewers. Allison had been kind enough to help him, what with Sammy no longer there, but still, it’d been hard. 

Shawn sighed. He thought about a great deal of things as he continued his work. There wasn’t much to do but think as he tried to fix his broken toys. In some ways, it was the only comfort a fella could have down here. He thought about Allison for a moment. In some ways, she really was an angel, always tried to do right by folks, and that much he was grateful for. He thought back to his dear angel. Oh Bailey, how he missed his beloved. Bailey and their gaggle of boys, and his lone little daughter. Always scurrying around, raising hell, just being children...and where was he for them? Sure, he brought children joy while he was alive, but he never spent enough time with them. The hours to keep them fed were too much. He missed their sweet little faces. For all he knew, they were all grown up back home, out getting married, having kids of their own, working their own bums off. Bailey had to have kept them afloat, with him gone she’d have to pull through. She always did, she was a good soul, best partner Shawn could’ve ever had. She’d take care of things, and she’d miss him...someone had to miss him. 

But the thought of them, all alone in the world, wondering where he’d disappeared to, well, it broke his heart. And it wasn’t a clean break either. It was jagged, rough, splintery with so many glass pieces. He hurt, he missed his family so much. But there was no way back to them. All he could pray for was that they lived happily now, without him. Maybe one day, there could be a heaven for them, and he’d see his beloved again. Hold her tightly in his arms, kiss her like he’d never stopped kissing her, like nothing had changed. What he wouldn’t give to see her again.

The walls shuddered at the thought. There was a faint laughter in the air, tinkling and malicious as it crept through the inky shadows. The walls pulsed with a heartbeat, a telltale sign of the demon being near. The question is: which demon?

“Anything Shawn? Anything at all?” 

That voice, it couldn’t be. Had he any eyes, they would’ve been as wide as saucers. He turned around, but he saw nothing behind him.

“Shawn, darling, where are you? It’s been so long, I miss you.” 

He could feel hands on his shoulders, pulling from so much farther below him. She always was so short compared to him, but that just made her all the easier to hold. He clenched his jaw, feeling himself start to drip.

“Bailey…” he choked out. 

“Shawn…” Something rubbed his back ever so gently. “My poor, poor sweetheart.” 

“L-leave me alone,” he whispered, “Stop it. Don’t disgrace ‘er like this…”

“But what if I’m real Shawn? What if you’ve just been pushing me away all this time? Please, let me help. You have to come home, we need you.”

The desperation in her voice ate at him. But he couldn’t give in. No, he couldn’t listen, it wasn’t her, it just wasn’t! “No. You’re not real. He wouldn’t drag you into this. He just wouldn’t.”

“That’s not the Joey I know.”

The voice sighed. Its touch disappeared. “One day you’ll find me Shawn. You’ll figure out what the truth is.” 

A tinkling of demonic laughter started closing in on him. It felt like the walls were coming together, ready to squish him, until all that was left was a puddle. He held his arms around him, grunting and groaning. His soul flared up, crying out in agony. 

“Let me GO! Leave me ALONE!” 

“If you want to be alone so badly, then fine, be alone! You don’t have anyone to love you anyway! We’re better off without you!” The voice of his wife cackled, before it disappeared altogether. But there was a hint of sadness in it that wracked him to his core. If it were really her, he’d be cursing Drew for the rest of his days. But it couldn’t be her, she wasn’t within his grasp, he wouldn’t...he had to pay for his so-called ‘sins,’ not them. Never them...

The ink thrashed him to the ground, trying to drag him back under. He screamed out as it did. 

“No, yer not taking me back! Enough of your bullshit demon, let me be!” 

Suddenly, the piper was at the doorway, thrusting his hand to grab Shawn’s. Charley pulled, he heaved and he hoed as he tried to keep the toymaker from rejoining the puddles. Edgar and Barley grabbed him in a hurry. Between the three of them pulling, the ink was struggling to hold on. Finally, with a satisfying ‘yoink,’ Shawn was pried free from the treacherous grip. He would not have to drown, for now he was safe.

All three gang members held their arms around him tightly. The lumbering searcher held them close in return, struggling to keep it together. They were a good bunch, despite their fiendish appearance. 

And that’s how Henry and Buddy found them, when they finally arrived in the workshop.

“Shawn?” Boris signed. 

Everyone’s eyes widened. They recognized each other. 

For a moment, there was hope.

Chapter Text

In a quaint apartment on the edge of the city, an elderly man’s lips were curled in a smile, sitting in a kitchen with his tiny niece. He had just gotten to the middle of a wonderful tale, full of magic and mystery that kept his limited audience captivated.

“That angel lady sounded awfully scary Uncle Joey. Did she really have to be so mean? I’m sure if they just talked things out, they could’ve been better.” 

Joey sighed. He reached for his cane and slowly got up, making his way to the refrigerator. The stoop in his back was quite noticeable as he bent to grab the milk from the middle shelf. He returned to the tiny child with the drink and cookies in hand, setting them on a small end table that sat between them. She was so short, just like her father had been. 

“I wish I could say, Eliza. They must have been too mad to think rationally. But sometimes stories just work out that way, the past is set in stone.” 

“That’s kinda sad.” Little Eliza Stein pouted as she reached for a chocolate chip cookie, dunking it in a glass of milk. She hadn’t mixed in the milk fat at the top, so it was extra sweet. 

Joey smiled at the sight. Henry had done the same thing all those years ago. The child was the splitting image of her father. She had the same gorgeous amber eyes, such a strange color, but it was warm, like a fresh honeycomb under a ray of sunshine, surrounded by a field of morning glories. The long locks of her carrot-y hair touched down past her rump, bouncy and braided. She kicked her mismatched sock-covered feet back and forth. She looked up at Joey with a smile on her face, one of her upper teeth missing. 

“Say, has the tooth fairy visited you yet kiddo?” he asked.

Eliza laughed and shook her head. “Nope, just lost it today!” She took a tiny tooth chest out of her pocket and held it up to show him. “I hope she likes it, I tried to clean it awfully good for her!” 

Joey laughed, a hearty, boisterous laugh. “I’m sure she’ll love it Liza, that one looks perfect to add to her palace. In fact, I believe it’d make a wonderful back to her throne.” 

Liza giggled. “You’re so silly Uncle Joey,” she takes another bite of her cookie, “You think you could tell me the story of the time Alice met the tooth fairy again?” 

Joey chuckled, holding his cane in between his legs. “It would be my pleasure. It all started when Alice was on her way to the realm of the fairies, to meet Faye Sonatina, the sprite that served as-”

A knock on the door cut his thought short. “Now who could that be? Don’t tell me Linda’s come to pick you up early.” 

Liza shook her head. “Nope, Mom said I was staying the night.” 

Joey carefully rose from his seat and approached the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by the freckled face of a young woman. She couldn’t have been any older than 20. She had dark brown hair in a long bob cut, with bangs covering her eyebrows, shy chocolate eyes barely peeking out from behind them. She wore an old pageboy hat that had clearly seen better days, a simple red polo, jeans, work boots, all soaked from the rain and ragged with age, and an apron with a pocket that was filled to the brim, with what Joey couldn’t tell. Her leg was still wrapped up from the injury, and she leaned slightly on a pair of crutches. How she’d managed to get up the stairs successfully, he didn’t know. In her hands, she held a package wrapped in brown paper, bearing his address. She meekly looked up at him, as she was significantly shorter, coughing into her work gloves. 

“Hi, um, you wouldn’t happen to be Mr. Giuseppe Drew, would you?” she asked.

Joey nodded. “Yes, that would be me. And you are?”

The young woman’s cheeks got visibly pinker. “Isabella Ewe. Miss Farah had an emergency come up at the hospital, so she asked me to make sure it got to you.” She gently held out the box for him to take. Joey smiled at this. 

“It’s been a long time since I received a package. Why don’t you come on in Miss Ewe? You look like you could use some warming up.” 

Isabella tried to protest, but Joey took her hand and brought her inside. He couldn’t help but notice her limp as she crossed the threshold into his house. As she took off her shoe, he could see that her sock had so many holes that it was hardly a sock at all, the toes and heel were exposed and tinged blue from the cold. Her ankle was bruised too. For someone who looked so sweet and put together at a glance, it was now clear that she wasn’t in good shape. 

He continued to usher her in, watching his back as he pulled up a chair. She hesitantly sat down, her face clearly displaying her discomfort. Joey felt his heart wrench a little. He gently held up the platter to offer her a cookie. She gingerly took off one of her work gloves and took one, whispering thank-yous under her breath. Again, Joey was greeted with an unpleasant sight. So many calluses and cuts, and so much ink in her knuckles and on her-

The ink! Oh dear, he’d forgotten to check the machine today! 

“Will you excuse me a moment?” And with that, he scuttled to the back room. 

Eliza shook her head and laughed as she walked over. “Sorry about Uncle Joey, he’s a little silly sometimes.” 

Bella chuckled as she took a bite of the cookie. “Oh that’s quite alright. He makes a good first impression, no one has been this nice to me in a long time.”

Liza quirked her brow. “Really?”

Bella nodded. “Aye. I mean granted, most people don’t bring strangers into their houses either, but it’s been a while since anyone has invited me for food. Most days I don’t go more than five minutes without being barked at.” She visibly shuddered at that. 

Eliza scooted her chair a little closer. “Well there’s no need to worry about that here. Uncle Joey’s home is just like his old business, open doors and all about making people happy.” She grinned and stuck out her hand. “I’m Eliza Stein, nice to meet you!” 

“Bella Ewe, nice to meet you too.” She smiled meekly and shook her hand. “Stein you say?” She paused and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Are you related to Henry Stein, by any chance?

Liza’s face lit up. “Uh huh! Henry’s my dad, best animator they ever had, or so I’m told. But he’s my daddy, so of course he’s the best.” She giggled. 

At the mention of Henry, Bella’s heart melted a little. She had the dorkiest smile, reminiscing about those cartoons. “Those old flicks were my childhood. Back when Dad was still around, we’d sit in Uncle Ernest’s living room and watch them every Saturday morning. Bendy and the gang were the best, especially Edgar. Edgar was the bee’s knees.” She sighed dreamily. “Your father must be a wonderful man, he made some beautiful work.” 

“He was.” She sighed and swung her little legs in the chair. “He really was…” 

Bella could see tears in the girl’s eyes. Internally, she panicked. How could this go south so quickly? She didn’t want to make this kid cry! The girl scooted her chair a little closer and gave her a small hug, the same kind Miss Farah had given her in the hospital when no one was looking.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” 

“No, no, it’s...it’s okay.” Eliza looked up at her, holding her hand gently. “You...you lost your daddy too?”

Now it was Bella’s turn to tear up. She nodded silently. It was hard to speak with the growing lump in her throat. “He was a good man. Had to leave too soon.” She shook her head. “But they’re always with us, in a way. All the good they gave to the world is still there, can’t take that away.” She rubbed at her eyes, stifling her grief. “They’d want us to keep moving forward, find happiness, right?”

Eliza giggled, wiping her own tears away. “You sound just like him. He said the same thing to Mommy when my grandpa passed away.” She sighed dreamily, reaching for her glass of milk. “Not a lot of people seem to know my dad’s name outside of work, so why do you?” 

Bella’s cheeks went bright red at that. She quickly reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a little black book, freckled with ink splatters on the top. She carefully pushed it across the table to the child. “Well, um, you see…ever since I was a little girl, probably a tad younger than you, I always thought the show was so magical.” She played with her hair as she explained. “I wanted to make that kind of magic one day when I grew up, so I researched everything I could about JDS. Every set of credits, every award, all the people who made it real, they inspired me every day. I wanted to create that magic too, but…my last job was less than spectacular.” She chuckled lightly. “I worked for the cinema down the road, cleaning the place, sometimes decorating for the new shows. I don’t get to make art of my own there, but whenever I get the chance, I draw.” She tapped the book’s cover. “If I keep practicing, maybe one day I can make movie posters, or animate somethin’ myself. A girl can dream, right?”

Eliza opened the book and started flipping through the pages. The further in she went, the more she couldn’t look away. Bella was quite the talent, there was no debating that. There were so many familiar faces in there. Bendy and the gang littered the pages in a style that was almost mistakable for a cell from the show. But mixed in were lots of other things. Experiments with watercolor backgrounds, life studies of flowers and willow trees, figure drawings of grimy young men eating sandwiches, and even a few colorful characters of her own. Mermaids, a dancing candlestick, fae, monsters, a whole little world that opened itself up just for the viewer. 

Eliza closed the book and hugged it to her chest. “It’s just like Daddy’s…” She sniffled. She set the book down on the table and jumped into Bella’s arms. The older girl was baffled, unsure of what to do at first, but following her instincts, she lifted Eliza up and hugged her tightly. Both were silent for a long time, until Joey finally returned.

The old man watched the two girls from a distance, rubbing a towel around his hands to remove the ink and grease. His heart clenched. What had happened to Eliza’s father had been tragic, he regretted the pain it caused her. But in due time, she wouldn’t have to shed anymore tears over Henry. Until then though, perhaps it would be best to keep this new acquaintance around. Eliza hadn’t taken to someone like this in a long time. Perhaps this was the start of things getting better. He could only hope. 

“Sorry about that, I just had to check the boiler. Care for some tea girls?” Joey wiped off his hands and smiled towards them. 

Eliza nodded her head. “I can take care of it Uncle Joey, you sit down.” 

Joey hobbled back over with his cane in tow. It was a rough mobility kind of day, but he still insisted on being a good host. “Now ‘Liza, I may be getting up there in the years, but I can handle a kettle just fine.” 

“Uncllllle.” She rolled her eyes at him, dragging him to her chair and pointing for him to sit. “You rest! You’ve done enough today, sit down!” 

Joey laughed, but he did as he was told. “You’re a riot kiddo, you know that?” 

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way!” She parroted back to him. Eliza went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. 

Joey shook his head. His chuckle was jolly though. “What a spitfire, am I right?” 

Bella nodded, stifling a small giggle of her own. “She’s very charming.” 

“As are you, my dear.” Joey smirked. “Belphene told me about you. So, you’re an artist, eh?” 

She nodded, holding her book close to her chest. “Yessir. N-not professionally, of course, but I’ve been practicing for most of my life.” 

“Well let’s have a little look-see then. Come on, don’t be shy!” He turned on all the charm for her. He may’ve been old, but Joey Drew was still a showman, that would never change. 

Bella passed her book over for him to inspect. He smiled as he flipped through the pages. It really was just like Henry’s. What a happy, happy accident he had at his fingertips. So many precious cartoons.

“You’ve got a spark in you kiddo, that much is clear.” He smirked. “She told me you were something special, and she was right. How’s about you come shadow me for a while, learn the tools of the trade?” 

“W-what? Wait, really?” She practically squeaked. “But we’ve hardly met, I- a-are you sure?” 

“Sure I’m sure! Kid, I know talent when I see it, and there’s no time like the present to cultivate that sort of thing. The sooner we get you back on your feet, the better!”

“S-so then, she-” 

“Yes, she told me everything.” He held onto her shoulder comfortingly. “I’m...I’m sorry, about your pop. That can’t be easy, figuring out the world without your old man. Goodness knows I wouldn’t have made it so far without mine.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” He chuckled. “He was a humble fella, I’ll tell ya. Didn’t have all the fancy bells and whistles like the other folks in town. But he was honest, and he was hard-working, and that made all the difference.” He sighed. “My pop was a cobbler, the best shoemaker my hometown ever knew, and even if he wasn’t the ritziest guy, people respected him. I loved him, there was no one in the world more wonderful than my mom and pop.” He turned to face her a little more directly. “You got that advantage taken away from you, but that doesn’t mean you’re incapable of greatness. Kid, all you need is to keep working hard. With a little luck on your side-” He took out a quarter from his pocket and flipped it, landing it on his hand, head’s up. But it wasn’t a quarter. Instead of the expected design, it was Bendy’s bust, winking at her, a token from his theme park no doubt. “-And a little help from some friends, I’m certain all your dreams can come true.” 

“You really think so?” She looked at him, so softly, so enamored. That was the illusion he cast. An illusion of greatness, of grandeur, but most importantly, of dreams. 

He nodded. “I do. Dreams come to life my dear. And by golly, I think we’ve got a beautiful dream here.” He winked before putting out his hand. “So, whaddaya say, wanna take a journey with me?”

She hesitated for a moment, but she was quick to shake his hand. “Absolutely Mr. Drew, I’m your gal!” She grinned, a bit of pride in her face. Joey got her reeled in, hook, line and sinker, and oh boy, was she in for a wild ride. Little did she notice the inky threads that wove themselves into her hand as he held it. 

This was the beginning of something grand. Something adventurous. 

Something horrible.

Buddy and Henry had gotten caught up to speed with Shawn and the butchers. The rapidfire signing had gone on for quite a while, but eventually, they came to an understanding. While Shawn hadn’t understood a lick of it, Charley thankfully did. The twisted leprechaun was the most fluent in the language out of their posse, and thankfully the most polite. 

“So you need our help to find that second ink machine?” Charley spoke as he signed so that Shawn and the rest could be brought up to speed. 

The wolf nodded. 

“Alice said if we found it, we might be able to use it to change the world, give ourselves a way out. It’s a long shot, but it’s the best chance we’ve had yet.” 

Charley nodded before turning to Shawn. “You know where that is, right?” 

Shawn tipped his hat. “Sure do lad. I always thought it was an awkward set piece, I mean why leave a prototype like that layin’ around? I think we can get it down though. Let me see about gettin’ some friends to help us out. If we can get ourselves in behind it, maybe we can push from one side and pull from the other to unwedge it.” 

Henry nodded as he signed. “That sounds like a plan. Thanks, Shawn.”

Shawn didn’t really understand it, until Piper grumbled it back to him, but he was looking at the wolf’s hands. He recognized the last gesture: his name. Charley had said that Henry was in there before, but he’d been skeptical. But seeing that sign...he knew it was the truth.

“Anything for you, old pal.”

He waved goodbye and hurried off, plunging beneath the ink to recruit his friends, leaving the gang to work things out with the wolf. They’d meet up again soon. 

Shawn wove his way through the depths of the ink. Without any demons to pull him too deep, he would be relatively safe. He passed through the waves of gossiping, ghostly voices, chatter that he barely registered now. He had to reach his friends, and that meant going back to their humble abode. He’d always be able to find his way back. It wasn’t too hard, given they were so easy to hear. 

When he popped up on the other side, he could hear the closest thing the studio had to merriment. The searchers seemed relatively brainless, but in truth, they were just a little slow. Here, in a sanctuary of their own making, they could thrive. Some would pretend to clink glasses together, imagining the place as a bar. Others would mess around on a broken pool table, keeping score on small planks of wood. But Shawn’s friends were the ones in the corner, the ones with the poker faces. He crawled over a few paces and waved hello.

“Eh, Flynn! Good tah see ya buddy, how’ve you been?” 

Three searchers sat around the table, holding cards in their hands, not unlike the Butcher Gang had earlier. But unlike the other searchers, they had something distinct about them. All three wore some phenomenal hats. The first wore a bowler hat that had a slight dent in its dome, probably from getting squished before he could return to their game. The second, the speaker, had a sturdy miner’s hat upon his brow. He seemed to be a jovial fellow, definitely had an air of friendliness to him. And the third, well, they were a bit more glamorous. She had a very large sunhat, far too fancy for this locale, with a small cluster of flowers tucked into the ribbon on its brim. She had a bit of a sourpuss, from what limited expression she could give, but Shawn knew her well enough to understand it.

“Ey Mike, good tah see ya.” He lumbered over and sat his bum down. “Other than almost gettin’ swallowed? Not too bad.” 

“Oh dear, demon came after you?” The bowler hat searcher asked. He shivered at the thought. 

“Unfortunately. You know how he is, Jack. I swiped one of the gang from his grasp, he didn’t like that.” Shawn crossed his arms and shook his head. “Sometimes I can’t tell if this place be gettin’ worse or better.” He sighed. “But that ain’t nearly as important right now. I need yer help lads.” 

“Us? What for?” Asked the floral hat searcher.

Shawn leaned in, whispering, as if to keep it quiet. “Rose, yer gonna get a kick outta this, all of ya are. I ran in-tah the fella with the axe, Henry. And by jove, he’s got an idea to bust us out! He and the angel got ‘ah deal to try somethin’ together, but they need the machine on the staircase.” 

“The one that’s all locked up?” Mike asked quizzically. “What good will that do? It has no power supply anymore.”

“And how would you know that?” Jack asked.

“Simple, I’m the one who removed it, Drew’s orders.” 

“Well do ya know where ya put it?” Shawn asked.

“Unfortunately.” Mike sighed. “Drew was cheap. When one machine didn’t work right, he had me move the power cells to be used on the next one. The odds are, they’re keeping the current machine powered, or they got scrapped a long time ago. We’ll need something else to get it up and running, if that’s what they’re planning.” 

“He didn’t say, but I think that’s a safe assumption tah make.” Shawn rubbed his chin in thought. “What else could we use to power the machine?”

“Well what’s powering the mechanisms in your workshop, Shawn?” Rose asked. “There’s plenty of places in the studio that use electricity, we just need to transfer it from one spot to another.” 

“Or, if we can lift it, bring the machine to the power source.” Jack thought aloud. “It’s bound to be heavy though, I-I’d be crushed under something like that!” 

“And I’m not sure we can risk trying to drag it through the Depths.” Mike rubbed his chin. “This is a tricky one Shawn. I dunno if we can pull this off.” 

“Well we hafta try!” He pounded his fist into his hand. “We’ve been stuck here fer God knows how long, and I can’t stand it for another second! If we pull this off, we may finally get tah go home, or at least pass on, ya know? Have some rest at long last. No one gettin’ destroyed, no more wailin’ screams in the wee hours of the night.” He held onto Mike’s shoulders and shook him. “We can’t pass this up lad!” 

“Alright, alright! You’ve made your point!” Mike sighed and steadied the larger searcher. “We’ll do the best we can.” He looked to Jack and Rose. “You two head on over to the toy workshop, see if you can find a power supply. Shawn and I are stronger, we’ll go and get that machine down.”

“Call over to the searchers near the elevator if you need help, they’ll pass along the message tah me, I promise.” Shawn smiled a little, tipping his hat before looking to Mike. “We’d better hurry, don’t want to keep them waiting too long.”

Jack saluted, and Rose nodded, holding her fists up in determination. Both grinned. 

“We won’t let you down boys,” Rose stated plainly. “Time to give that egotistical son of a gun what for!” 

It had been a lovely visit between Mr. Drew and the two girls. As soon as it was revealed that Bella enjoyed his cartoons, the man could hardly talk about anything else. The heyday of the studio and all the comradery that came with it, what a lovely memory it was. The way he spoke of it was magical, and his audience was just as caught up in the magic as he was. For a moment, he could almost forget how poorly it all ended. Almost. 

But all good things must come to an end. The hour had gotten far later than any of them had anticipated. Eliza had been yawning for quite some time, but only now did she start off to bed. 

“Goodnight Uncle Joey, goodnight Miss Bella.” 

“Goodnight Liza.”

And with that, she was gone, back into the bedroom on that rickety old bed. Joey turned to his guest, a warm smile beneath his mustache. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what, your package?”

Mr. Drew shook his head, amused by her confusion. “For coming to visit. You have no idea how nice it is to know that someone out there still appreciates all my hard work. I’ve enjoyed having your company.”

Bella’s eyes lit up. For a moment, Joey could swear he saw stars in them. “Thank you so much, Mr. Drew.” She rubbed at her face, trying not to cry. “So, when can I expect to see you again?” 

“Come on over on Monday. I’ll have the place cleaned up so we can get to work.” He winked. I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Ewe. Be safe, alright?” 

She could hardly contain herself as her heart pounded in her chest, audible enough for the old man to hear. She leapt up and embraced him tightly in his seat. Joey was surprised, but he welcomed the gesture, leaning into her touch and rubbing her back gently. It felt...right, somehow. It had been a long time since he had felt this way, such a familial love for someone he barely knew. His heart clenched. He dared not think of him again, he’d be too satisfied. 

Bella slowly let go and stood up. She reached for her gloves and put them back on, tipped her hat, and headed for the door. “Of course. Have a good night Mr. Drew, I’ll see you soon.” 

She was gone, but not without a trace. Mr. Drew waved goodbye and started tidying up, washing the dishes and putting them away, making sure he had ingredients to make pancakes the next morning, all ending with him sitting down at his desk. That’s when he noticed something out of place from across the room. Grabbing his cane, he rose from his spot and hobbled to the end table, picking up the little black book. He flipped it open. Inside the back cover, the following was written.

“A picture is worth a thousand words, 

so a cartoon must be worth ten billion. 

Hang in there sunshine, one day you’re going to change the world. 

I can’t wait to see what you put on the silver screen.

Love you Forever,

Dad”

Joey’s brow was raised. What a sentimental musing. 

“If found, please return to:

B. Ewe

42 Aerial Drive, Appt 113

Brooklyn, NY 11211”

“One thirteen? That’s not too far at all. Hmm…” Something felt...off, about that. He continued to peak into the book. Once he got to the final inked sketch, his heart nearly stopped. She wasn’t kidding when she said she was a fan. Never had he expected to find pages upon pages of adoration for his masterpiece. But unlike Eliza, who was reminded of her father, Joey’s mind leapt to other opportunities. 

This was the last piece he’d been waiting for, his chance to change his fate and leave a legacy that would never be forgotten. He hurried to his desk, giddy with the thought of so many possibilities, all right within his grasp. It was positively intoxicating. 

He turned to look at his storyboards, such clumsy writing compared to what he was about to create. Yes, he had made masterpieces before, tales that never truly ended in all their majestic glory. But this? This was a story that could be a reality, a reality that would ensure that no one ever forgot the name of Joey Drew long after he had departed from this world. He brought up his paper and started plotting it all out in pencil, making sure to get the draft just right. No detail was to be overlooked, he had to be more careful this time. Couldn’t risk another incident.

He reached down into his desk drawer and pulled out a velvety blue jewelry case. Now, while it may have looked like something for holding earrings or a pretty necklace, that’s no longer what it held. Oh no, inside was his favorite monocle, a fine piece of curved glass with a bright gold rim and chain. Back in the industry, Joey’s eyesight had started to go in his right eye, much to his dismay. But this monocle had been just the trick to get both his eyes at the same level again, he’d never gone to work without it. 

He inspected his draft, but alas, he could feel his adrenaline fading, his creative flame cooling far faster than he’d wished. What he wouldn’t give to be young and spry, able to make things far more easily than he could now. Carefully he put away his monocle and sighed as he walked to the bathroom. After a few minutes of washing up, he contemplated his reflection, a pleased smile upon his wrinkled lips. 

“Just imagine it. Maybe there is still a dream to believe in.” And with that, he headed to the couch and made it up for himself, as he always did when Eliza spent the night. He laid down, with marvelous dreams worthy of the sugar plum fairy’s touch filling his mind. Yes, tomorrow would be the start of a new story, with so many chapters to fill its pages. And for once in his life, he didn’t dread the thought of waking up to face his demons. What demons could there possibly be when he had angels on his side?

Not everything was peaceful in the Drew household however. Off of the kitchen, there laid a sinister room, one that radiated something dark and twisted once you stepped through its doorframe. This was the room where the machine lived. Ah yes, the machine, a glorious contraption indeed. The vessel that housed so many lost souls. 

One soul was waiting in the shadows, one with a grin as creepy as the cheshire cat’s. A demon’s shadow raked its hands across the metal, holding it close as it churned along. The darkness of the Depths was a fickle thing, a thing that not even Joey Drew fully understood. But its power was immeasurable, and its corruption was merciless. 

Belphene slipped into the household for the night, worn out from a long day of running around. A little ink dripped off of her feet. She’d return to her post in the morning, for now, she needed to rest. She quickly took care of Eliza’s lost tooth, loading her chest with a little change for penny candy, then flopped down on the newspaper stacks next to the machine.

At home, the young artist laid in her bed, her face bathed in moonlight from the shadeless window. For the first time in a long time, her face looked peaceful. Little did she know that the ink wasn’t done claiming its victims, and she would not be spared. Oh no, it would always hunger for more. And in the depths of her dreams, she could feel its pull. Inviting and deceitful, as it always would be.

There was no escaping the ink. Not now, not ever.

Chapter Text

A screaming well of voices. That was the reality that many woke up to when they finally found themselves again. It was exactly where Sammy found himself now. Floating in the darkness of the Depths, he just laid there, numb, taking it all in yet ignoring it at the same time. Screams of the damned, whispers of grief, crying from so many that no longer had eyes. He merely sighed. There wasn’t much he could do. He couldn’t see them, couldn’t do much more than feel them, and there was no way he could comfort them. His poor flock was beyond his reach, but not forever. One day, he’d dry their tears. One day he’d set them free, or at least, so he hoped. 

Sammy finally got up and started swimming through the inky void, headed towards the light of the surface not too far above him. It was all he could see in there, the dim, flickering splendor of his beloved music department. But basking in his light was another. It was too fuzzy to see, but he had a sneaking suspicion as to who it was. So he hurried along. Didn’t want to keep his friend waiting. 

On the surface, the pieces that made up the band director slowly pulled themselves out of the floorboards. An inky puddle gained shape, first a head, then a torso, then two strong arms that were quick to pull him out. Scraps of yellow floated to the top of his body, the suspenders that held up his pants rose with the rest of his figure, until he was kneeling on the floor, all of him intact. A meek searcher in a handsome hat sat there, waiting for him, a timid smile on his broken face.

“Good to see you, my sheep. What’s brought you here?” Sammy said thoughtfully. 

Jack sighed. Sometimes Sammy recognized him, other times he didn’t. Seemed it was gonna be one of those days. He latched onto Sammy’s arm and pulled. 

“You want me to go with you? To where?” 

Jack just pulled more, gesturing for the maestro to follow. 

“Alright, lead the way my lamb.” 

Jack perked up at that. Perhaps he did remember a little. 

Jack wound Sammy through the walls, bringing him over to Heavenly Toys, where Miss Rosa Rodrigeuz was waiting for them. The floral hat searcher waved to them as they approached. 

“Finally!” She smirked. “Took you long enough.” 

Sammy chuckled and shook his head. “I always make it to the party eventually, don’t I?” 

“Yeah, usually fashionably late.” Rosa shook her head and laughed. “Good to have you on board Lawrence. Jack, did you fill him in?” 

Sammy cocked his head to the side. “Jack?” 

“Yes, Jack.” She put her hands on her hips. “You did tell him, didn’t you?” 

Jack held his throat tenderly, his shoulders sinking in dejection.

“I’m not sure what you’re going on about, my sheep. This lamb is mute. He merely dragged me here to help.”

“Oooh, okay, I get it now.” She winced as she looked at Jack, and he could tell she felt bad for bringing it up. “No matter, we’d best get to work. We may just have a way out of here, but we need some help.” 

Sammy scratched his head in confusion, but he nodded. “What exactly is your plan?” 

So Rosa walked him through it, catching him up on all the details. 

Meanwhile, Henry, Buddy, Shawn, Mike, and Charley had finally located the second machine and had slowly managed to bring it down from its perch. But as great as it was to finally have it on the ground, they weren’t out of the woods yet. 

Shawn was huffing and puffing. “I’ve carried some heavy loads in my time, but this is just ridiculous. Even with three of us, it’s still too much.” 

Mike nodded in agreement, holding his aching back. “I’m with Shawn, this is gonna be impossible to drag back to his space. There’s gotta be a better way.” 

Charley signed all of this to Henry and Buddy, who held their chin in thought. 

“How are we gonna pull this off?” Henry asked Buddy.

“I dunno Mr. Stein. This is-”

“You need a hand, gentlemen?” 

Out from the shadows, the angel sauntered onto the stairway. She held the railing with the tips of her fingers, a bit off-put by the mess, but still fearful about not having support. She crossed her legs as she leaned on a cleaner part, watching them, a playful smirk on her glistening lips. 

Henry signed, “Alice?”

She cocked her head curiously before signing back, “Yes?”

Henry smiled through Boris’ muzzle. “Think you can help us lift this?” He signed. 

“I think so,” she signed back, “just give me a moment.” She stepped behind the wall for a second, rummaging through her pockets.

Now it was Buddy’s turn to be surprised. “Wait, she knows sign language?”

“Yeah, we learned it together.” Henry chuckled internally.  

“Why? Heck, why does Charley know it?” 

“Well, all of the art department learned it. We had someone on the staff years ago, they had a little kid who couldn’t speak. Sometimes they’d bring them in when there wasn’t a babysitter.” He chuckled to himself. “We loved that kiddo so much, Shirley was her name I think. Sometimes we’d bring her into the art department for reference, like on Tombstone Picnic. In some ways, you might say she was pretty key to Bendy’s development. It was Abby’s idea that we all learn so that we could talk to her, and then Dave said we should have the toons use it, it’d let more people enjoy the cartoons. So we took the time to learn it together. My guess is that Charley retained that from the way we animated him.” 

Buddy thought about that for a moment. He’d wondered why Tombstone Picnic was so different from the other cartoons. This only made him wonder about the mystery more. But hearing about Abby and Dave tugged at his heartstrings. He tried not to shiver, worrying about where they were now. But then another thought hit him.

“Wait, why was Alice’s voice actress learning it then?” 

“Susie liked being able to talk to her fans at signings. Even if they couldn’t hear her as Alice, Alice was her creation, a part of her that she embraced. She wanted people to know that Alice was there for them, that they had an angel they could depend upon to light up their day.”

Buddy held their hands over his heart. “That’s...really sweet. For the number of times that she’s ripped up Boris, I didn’t think she’d be the type for that.”

“You’d be surprised. As awful as this twisted angel is, I have faith that the real Susie is still in there.” Henry squeezed their hands a little. “She was a good kid when I met her, not too different from you, really. She just fell in with bad people, people who convinced her she was lesser.”He grit his teeth. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive Joey for what he did to her.”

Just from his tone, Buddy could tell Henry wasn’t messing around. The hurt in his voice, it hurt him too. Henry’s feelings...they weren’t usually so evident, but being together in Boris, he felt how powerful they were. Joey wronged so many people, and it burned Henry like the flames of hell itself. Buddy didn’t know what had happened to Susie, she was before his time, but he knew it had to be something bad for her to be like this. Either way, he was just glad to see her helping now. Maybe there was hope. 

Alice came back out, wiping her mouth as she went to grab the machine. With three grunts from Charley, they all heaved and hoed, but they managed to lift it. Alice was far stronger than she looked, several eyebrows were raised as they carried it along. But there wasn’t any time to question it.

It took hours given the bulky size, but by some miracle, it worked out. The machine was placed within the toy workshop, and Sammy had a handful of wires and power cells in hand. He passed them over to Mike, who grunted as he got to work.

“Didn’t think I’d see you around here,” Sammy said curtly. 

“Nor I you.” Alice hissed. “Finally came to your senses? 

“About what, precisely?”

“Worshipping that forsaken-” 

“Shhh!” Sammy warned. 

Henry quickly covered her mouth, to which she batted him away. She shot them both a scowl. “The hell are you two worried about?” 

Sammy shook his head and sighed, holding what would be the bridge of his nose underneath the mask. “Look, it’s complicated, but the loop is incredibly delicate. I’ve managed to break the hold of its script a few times, but certain phrases and actions have a tendency to...trigger it. To take hold again, so to speak.” 

“How so?” She held her chin in thought, clearly listening intently. 

Henry stepped in to sign. “He’s worried about the ‘b-word.’ Anytime someone says ‘belief,’ especially with talk of ‘you know who,’ it sends him back. We lose him, he’s a monster again.” 

Despite the fact that he was signing, Buddy could hear his thoughts as he communicated, which made him privy to the conversation. He questioned Henry internally. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.” Henry sighed. “I know you don’t have a high opinion of him, but he’s not so bad. Used to be that making music was the one thing he was obsessed with. And even then, that was at least a mostly healthy obsession.

Sammy nodded. “I don’t want to risk hurting any of you.” He hung his head sadly. 

“Hmmph. Likely story.” Alice crossed her arms and stuck up her nose. “But for the sake of keeping the peace, I’ll try to refrain.” She booped the spot in between Bendy’s eyes on the mask, to which Sammy stepped back. “Just don’t think this makes us friends. I’m only here so we can get out of this miserable place.” 

“Oh we’re quite clear on that point, I can assure you of that.” Sammy spat at her. The venom in his voice was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl. He turned to the wolf. “So, how do you suppose this will get us out?” 

Henry signed, slowly but efficiently, after gesturing for everyone to gather. Alice stood by his side. He was meticulous in making sure that this was clear. This was too important not to get right. 

“We have a lot to cover. Alice, care to explain?” He signed. She nodded and stepped next to him, taking charge.

“First, let me ask you all something.” The angel narrowed her eyes, her demeanor serious, as if she didn’t want anyone beyond their circle to hear.  “Do you remember the day you entered the dark puddles?” 

Sammy nodded, a shiver going up his spine. It was clear looking at the rest of them that they may’ve felt the same way, though how many were being honest was yet to be determined. “A lot of my memory is hazy, but I remember the day when the ink started its invasion.” He shook his head. 

“Do you remember what Joey did to lure you here? Can you recall being inside the machine?” She asked, her voice barely a whisper. 

Sammy shook his head, hanging his head. “No, I don’t.” No wild ravings, no poetic phrasing, just simple, to the point, and scared. It wasn’t often the prophet allowed his fear to shine through, but one thing was for sure: this terrified him. Not having control, not being able to remember, it was a painful reminder of the humanity that had been ripped from their hands.

“I remember. I remember it all too well.” Her face, which was usually scowling, somehow scowled harder. Buddy didn’t know that was possible. 

“Joey led me to the back of the studio, in a room behind his office. Pushed me into the machine before I could process what was happening.” She shuddered at the thought. “But I remember being inside. I remember things that I know he doesn’t want me to.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at the floor. “I remember seeing multiple pathways. The glittering gold, the darkness, and the light of the sun. I couldn’t get back to the light, the darkness pulled me in, I had no choice. But I know it’s there, I know there has to be a way to it. Wherever that path leads, it’s got to be the way out.” 

“Hold it.” Shawn crossed his arms. Charley stood next to him to sign what he said. “Yer tellin’ me the ink machine is what, a portal? Not a ‘build-a-bloke’?” 

Alice looked at him incredulously, but Henry and Buddy had to stifle a laugh.

“Is that seriously what you’re calling it?” Henry asked. It was a simple enough question that Shawn understood what he was looking at.

“Of course!” Shawn replied. “Why not? It’s a monster machine, takes souls and rearranges them intah fiends, ain’t that hard tah figure out!”

“But it isn’t that simple.” Sammy pointed out. “I don’t recall much, but I do have...glimpses. Of how it all worked...” He looked away, not able to face them. “The machine does far more than make monsters. I mean, look at where we are. Look at what he did to us.” He shook his head. “We’ve been rearranged, yes, but we’ve also been displaced. Our world, as we know it, is not the world we first came from. This studio, it’s not the one we worked in.” 

“And what makes ya think that?” Shawn raised an eye ridge. 

“I have to agree with Shawn on this one,” Rosa said, her hands on her hips. “How do you know that for sure?” 

“The layout is all wrong, in ways remodeling couldn’t have made possible. There’s no way he could’ve made our reality look like a cartoon, or given it the properties it has now. Even with a machine, even with occult magic, someone should’ve caught on, someone would have walked in and found us by now.” Sammy stated simply.

“Our story, this loop, plays over and over.” Henry signed, “It’s always the same set of events, ones we can’t stop from happening. Whatever world we’re in, it’s gotta be separate from the studio we worked in. Based on the cost of the building alone, there’s no way Joey could afford to keep it all there. He had to do something bigger, something crazier, something so hair-brained that it could only have come from a head like his.” 

“And as an added bonus, it makes sure all of us are kept silent, and complacent.” Alice shook her head and crossed her arms. “All forced to relive the same story, over and over again. We’ve been so blind to it for so long, but now, for whatever reason, some of us have started to catch on.” 

“Whatever the reason, we should count ourselves lucky. It may mean there’s a way out.” Sammy pointed out. 

“Not sure I understand this whole ‘loop’ business yer goin’ on about.” Shawn scratched his head.

Jack nodded. “I’m with him. Have we really been repeating history, all this time?”

Sammy stepped in. “We’ve been trapped in an endless cycle forever, and it all seems to be dependent on Henry.”

Henry visibly flinched at that.

“Sorry, I should say, it seems to follow you as a protagonist. There are five clear sections he can remember, each with a set of story beats that rarely fail to play out. Always the same result over and over again, until it resets at the end.” Sammy explained.

“So then what are you doing at the end? Why not change it?” Rosa asked. 

“I’ve tried,” Henry signed. “I can’t. I can’t control my body, I’m forced to do what the script tells me, no different than everyone else. I can’t stop myself from putting in the tape. That has to be what’s resetting it, there’s nothing else it could be. I go into the machine, battle the ink demon, play the tape, he melts-” 

“He WHAT?!” The quartet of searchers was taken aback, holding each other fearfully. 

“That tape is powerful enough to MELT the INK DEMON?” Shawn shouts. 

“No way, impossible!” Mike chimes in. “That’s crazy talk!” 

“Shh, keep it down!” Sammy warns. “Look, we don’t know for sure if that’s how it works. But we may not have to worry about it. If we can get this machine to work, then maybe we can just get out of here.”

He rubbed his chin in thought. “I don’t know how Joey did it, but if the machine is a portal, how does it work?” 

Jack was finally one to pipe up, signing as he spoke. “If I may.” He cleared his throat. “I...remember, being inside, as well.” He hit a little under his hat. 

“Jack?” Henry hadn’t quite noticed him until now. “How’re you-”

“Back? I always reform eventually, Henry. We all do.” Jack signed back to him as he spoke.

Henry hung his head and sighed, both out of relief and out of grief. “I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be. I know you don’t want to take me out. Though if you did have a choice, could it be for dinner instead?” He chuckled. 

That got a few laughs from their crew. Sammy stared, bewildered, puzzled. 

“What are you all laughing at?” 

“Jack’s bein’ hilarious. C’mon Lawrence, don’t tell me ya lack a sense of humor.” Shawn smirked. 

“I truly don’t know what you’re talking about.” The prophet crossed his arms. “He’s mute.”

“No he ain’t. Jack’s got a lovely voice, how can you not hear it?”

Sammy looked at him, bewildered, puzzled, like he couldn’t fathom what Shawn had just said. “That’s not possible. I can hear every searcher’s voice as clear as day. Why would I not be able to hear one when I can hear all the rest?” Sammy asked, clearly irritated, maybe even frustrated.

“Wait.” Henry paused them for a moment. “We’ve established that Joey doesn’t want us getting out-” 

“This world made monsters out of everyone he ever felt ‘wronged’ by.” Alice interrupted. “It would make perfect sense for him to make it so we can’t communicate. Strength lies in numbers, all of us working together would be the sort of thing that would really make him tick.” She smirked. 

“So he….” Sammy held a hand over his heart. “It’s like the tower of Babel. He really is playing god.” He turned to Jack. “I’m...sorry.” 

“Wow, that’s a first.” 

“Shut up.” He glared at the angel, before turning back to the searcher. “I...I don’t know what the past was like between us, but it must’ve been important, if Joey felt the need to take you away from me.” 

Jack squished into his puddle a little, his cheeks hot. He didn’t say anything, merely held Sammy’s hand, tightly within his own. He squeezed it, but the prophet didn’t seem to feel it. 

Henry could feel the hurt in Jack’s heart, but even more than him, Buddy could. The young man knelt down and held Jack in his arms. It may’ve been the first time he’d hugged someone in years. Buddy didn’t remember Jack, he couldn’t have, but he had a few guesses as to why he was important. 

Jack looked a bit bewildered, but he quietly hugged the wolf back. “Thank you.” He whispered. 

Buddy nodded back. But Henry let go and signed. “What can you tell us about being in there?”

Jack shuddered. “Besides the dark and the cold? I remember more than one of us being there. I got tossed in with someone else, pretty sure they were from the music department. They tried to grab onto something in there, but their grip wasn’t good. We fell deeper in. They took care of me for a while before running deeper into the studio when the machine spat us out. Pretty sure they headed deeper in to find a way out.” 

Henry held his chin for a moment. “They could be anywhere then. Should we go and look for them?”

“Probably not. Who’s to say they have any grasp on themselves anymore?” Jack sighed, holding his hat to his chest. “Then again, that may be the coward in me talking. We haven’t gone much farther than here in a long time.” 

“Why not?” Henry asked.

“We heard there are even worse monsters down there, worse than us.” 

“The demon’s territory.” Alice huffs, looking away. “No one wants to be too close to that.”

“Henry...What’s beyond the toy workshop?” Shawn asked. He seemed...nervous, incredibly anxious even. 

Henry looked at him quizzically. There were so many ways to answer that question. “Lots of things. The remnants of the Bendyland project, a river with a giant hand monster, the archives, a village of lost ones-” 

“Really?” Rosa looked up at him, peering hopefully from underneath her floral hat. “A...village? Of lost ones?”

Henry nodded. “A whole slew of them, yeah. It’s not far from the machine itself. They all live together, by the river. They don’t like me too much though.” 

“What? Why not?” Rosa asked. 

“I, um, well, I never want to do it, but the story has me do some...unsavory things, in the village.” 

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Stein.” Sammy shook his head. “I appreciate your courtesy, but my flock is allowed to know what happens. I burst out of a boarded-up hut, then come at you with an ax. You defend yourself, I trick you into coming closer, try to kill you, then Tom kills me with an ax to the head, it’s really that simple.” 

“You WHAT?” Jack looks absolutely appalled by this. 

“Look, I don’t WANT to do it!” Henry holds his head in his hand. “I don’t want to swing that thing at ANYONE.”

“I don’t blame you in the slightest.” Sammy crossed his arms. “It’s not like you knew who we were, the same goes the other way around. We had no idea who you were or why you were here. Not that I tried to figure it out at first.” He huffed and shook his head. 

“Hey, the ink had you under its influence, I don’t blame you for that. I don’t blame any of you for any of this. None of us should.” Henry held Sammy’s shoulder. 

“Speak for yourself.” Alice crossed her arms, glaring daggers at Sammy. “Ink or no ink, we’re still responsible for our actions. Some of us wouldn’t be here if not for them.”

“You’re one to talk!” He hissed back. “Stealing ink from my flock, ripping apart helpless creatures to steal their hearts-” 

“Hey! We ain’t helpless!” Barley crossed his arms. 

“Yeah, we’re tough! Tough enough to overwhelm that old guy! Right Charles?” Edgar nudged him, but Charley merely sighed and held his head before signing. 

“You’ll have to excuse them. They’re idiots.” 

“What? Hey!”

“You’re supposed to be on our side matey!” 

This got a slight chuckle out of Shawn and Mike, but not the rest. Henry still looked torn up inside. “Ey, don’t be so hard on yerself,” the toymaker said. “Look, it’s as ya say, we were all made into monsters down here. What matters now is that we work on not bein’ ‘em, aye?” 

“He’s right,” Jack agreed. “We’re all together now, we can do something about this. So let’s do something! Let’s fire this thing up and see where it goes.” 

Henry knelt next to them both and held them tightly. His heart was audible with how close he was. They held him just as tightly back. 

“He’s right Henry.” Sammy nodded. “So long as we’re still stable, we’d better get this thing running. I can’t guarantee how long it’ll last.” 

Henry let go and nodded. He signed, “Then let’s get a move on. Mike, is it ready?” 

Mike gave him a goopy thumbs up, a slight smirk on his broken jaw. “Should be good Mr. Stein. Y’all ready?” 

Everyone gave a nod. Mike went over to pull the lever, but he struggled to grasp it. So Alice, slightly huffy, stomped over, grabbed onto the lever, and helped him pull. Both were breathing a bit hard after that. Interesting. 

As soon as it was pulled, the machine roared to life! Gears turning, part squeaking, clearly in need of oil or something. Sammy flinched at the noise. Everyone stepped back, unsure of what to make of it. 

“So, who’s gonna be the guinea pig?” Shawn asked. 

No one dared step forward. Henry sighed. Looked like it was gonna be one of those days, huhn? They depended on him though, so he had to do something. He took a step forward before skidding to a halt. 

“Why are WE doing this? This is too much, I-I can’t go in there again!”

Buddy felt his knees turn to jello. So many memories, so much pain, darkness. Being ripped away from everything he held dear. From his mother, his grandpa, his friends, Dot... But he felt his body move forward, despite his shivering. The hand of Henry’s soul held onto his, warm, kind, welcoming, and brave. 

“I’m scared too bud. But it’s gonna be okay. We’ll make it through this. We have to go in, we have to learn how this works.” 

“Alright...I trust you Mr. Stein.” He turned his gaze to the opening. “ Let’s see what’s on the other side.” He wasn’t sure he really believed that, but they didn’t have a choice. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Can’t get much worse than being Boris, right? 

They jumped in, head first. It was time. Time to believe.

Time to believe that everything would work out, one way or another. 

Chapter Text

What was on the other side of the machine? An excellent question, dear reader. I’m sure you have questions, you always do. But worry not, I have some loose ends to tie up. You’ll get your answers, though I don’t know how much you’ll like them.

The cartoon wolf rubbed his head as he slowly stood up. His rear was sore as his vision slowly came into focus. Where were they? Henry and Buddy blinked and took a look around. It was a small, cramped room, with a few newspapers and boxes laying around, and a large cork board on the wall, covered in photos and red string. But most noticeable of all was the ink machine, the pan of which he stepped off of, the metal creaking ever so slightly. He carefully turned to the doorway, and Henry nearly fell over again. For through it was a familiar sight, one he had never forgotten. 

There was Joey Drew’s kitchen. 

“H-how?” Henry thought , “How are we here? All this time...the machine leads here? Back to-back to reality?” 

“So Alice was right!” Buddy shuddered internally . “They were all right! This is our world, we’re free! All we have to do is bring them through here-” 

“No.” Henry clenched his fists. Tears trickled at the corners of his eyes. “No…”

“What do you mean no? Henry come on, we can finally get out of there!” He held a hand over their heart. “You can feel it, right? The loop, it’s not there. It’s not holding us, we can get out!”

“Buddy, look at us!” Henry held their hands in front of their face. Two large cartoon gloves, connected to long, black noodly arms. “We can’t live like this! We can’t live in a world like this, we’ll never be safe. We’re not...we’re not out of the woods yet.” He threw his arms down next to his sides, fists clenched again. “We have to find a way to undo Joey’s curse on us first, then we can bring everyone out.” 

“Well then we’d better get to work.” Buddy said. “Where do we start looking for answers?”

“Here,” Henry stated simply. “This is Joey’s apartment. If there’s anything out there on how to fix all of this, it’s here. Joey is many things, but stupid isn’t one of them: he’ll have the answers close to home base. Come on, I know where we can start.” 

Henry was about to start rifling through the room, when he heard the sound of footsteps by the door. 

“Someone’s coming! Hide!” They thought in tandem. The wolf slid behind the doorway in his own cartoonish way, slim and hidden from sight. 

But instead of being met by the terrifying gaze of Mr. Drew, both were merely passed by. The clacking of stilettos across the linoleum was sluggish and lacking in its usual confidence. The demon who held Drew's contract looked positively exhausted as she walked into the living room. Her smokey hair was a mess, yet still beautiful as it twisted and curled behind her. Her horns were dull and splattered with ink, the same with her legs and arms. The brief glimpse they got of her glowing eyes showed that her bags had bags under them, with tear-like cracks falling across her cheeks. She kicked off her shoes and threw herself into the chair that sat beside Joey's drawing board. 

She had just settled down, her fingers holding her head in irritation, when there came a knocking at the desk. She perked up and turned to the papers, where a little devil darling tried to flag her down. Henry couldn't see it, but somehow he felt that his creation was here, and when their voices became audible, he knew for sure it wasn't just his imagination. 

“Hey, how’re things going in there?” She asked gently. 

“As good as they can toots. I think she’s starting to warm up to me.” 

That squeaky voice, that accent. No, it couldn’t be-

“Good, good. How’re the others holding up?” 

“As well as they can. They opted to try and talk to the Connors, but you know those two, awfully stubborn.” 

“Oh I’ll bet, they were hard to take care of the first time.” She sighs in frustration, rubbing her temples no doubt. “No matter. How about you? Seen anything through the eyes?”

“Hey, I thought it was your turn to play the demon!”

“It is, I just wanted to know. Y’know, if you saw something I didn’t.” She sounded a smidge defensive at that. 

“Not particularly. Just Bertrum muttering to himself again.” 

“Bertrum? I thought-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but I had a breath mint this time-” 

“Bendy, come on, there’s a statue there.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not the greatest vantage point. It’s easier to use the cans, no matter how awful that tastes after the fact.” He shuddered. “Why the hell did Joey think that was a good idea? Of all the things to plaster my face on, WHY did it have to be a garbage can?”

“You’ve got me." She snickered. "Anything important he dropped?” 

“Just some sobbing over the loss of his ‘masterpiece,’ and some whining for Lacie to come look at his gears. Nothing out of the ordinary for him.” 

“God, that’s pathetic.” 

“You know what they say, the bigger the ego, the more blubbering when they get knocked down.” 

“I guess so." Belphene sighed, leaning forward and holding the edge of his page. "What're we gonna do? This is a fine mess he's dragged us into…" 

"Hey, hang in there toots! It's gonna be alright. We just gotta make sure his little protege wises up. We get her to build those skills, get Eliza out, keep the last fella out of here, and then we can focus on helping the others escape." The paper crinkled a little as he put his hand against hers. "We'll get them out of there, I promise." 

"But what if we can't? The ink, it's so strong now, I can't-" 

"Hey, hey, none of that from you!" Bendy pleaded. "Belphene, it's gonna be okay. We gotta believe in Henry. We gotta believe in all of my creators. They are so much more than the things they fear. They just need a nudge in the right direction. You'll see. The deal can't keep them trapped forever." 

"But we're running out of time." She urged. "We only have so long until the seal finishes its job. I don't…" she sniffles rubbing at her eyes, "I don't want this. I don't want to do this anymore." 

"None of us do dollface, none of us do." Bendy sighed, sitting down with an audible 'plop'. "We have to have hope. If we lose hope, then how're they supposed to have any? We gotta keep trying." 

Belphene nodded and laid her head down on the desk, closing her eyes as the inky footprints rose from the floor and returned to her feet. It was almost as if she was taking it all back into herself, removing the stains that were left behind. It didn’t seem like something she did consciously at first, the ink just knew that it needed to be somewhere else. Like it was...alive. 

Henry felt a tingling in their legs. He looked down, and immediately his heart rate went up. The ink that made up his body, their body, it was leaving! His foot was rapidly disappearing, as was his pant leg, and his actual legs! It was then that he realized just how close they were to the desk. When had they left the room with the machine? When had they stepped so close to Belphene? He and Buddy stood frozen in shock, struggling to move and get away.

Bendy looked up and jumped on his spot on the page. “Toots, cool it!” 

“Huhn?” Belphene groggily looked up, only for her face to drop in horror at the sight of the cartoon wolf. She fell out of her chair and stared up at him, her eyes wide and her heart audibly beating, pounding like a freight train over weathered tracks. The walls grew dark, inky veins spreading all around. 

Henry could feel their own heart pounding in their chest. He looked into her eyes, and she seemed scared, more scared than he had ever seen her before. He reached out a hand, but she only backed away more, hitting into the desk, knocking Bendy’s paper into a pool of ink that was rapidly forming below her. Her eyes went dark, the shining liquid taking them over, with not so much as a glimmer of color within them. They were cold, heartless, and cruel as they stared into him, he could feel it in his soul. No, there was no more of her left in that face. She scowled, but it was quick to turn to a grin. That smile, there was something wrong with that smile. All he could see was the cruel and twisted nature of the ink demon. 

The cruel and twisted nature...of the ink. 

“So, you found a way out, did you? How cute.” The ink rose and covered more of her legs, creeping up her torso and her arms, claws forming at her fingertips. “Let’s see you get out of THIS!” She lunged forward, claws ready to slash his face in two. 

“NO!” 

Darkness. Silence. A whir of motion, and then stillness. Where were they? What happened?

Henry and Buddy had fallen into a deep, deep sleep. How long had they been out? Fortunately for them, they were still in one piece. Unfortunately for them, they had no idea what sharing a body fully entailed. So nothing could have prepared them for what came next. 

Henry found himself sitting on a bench, his sketchbook beside him, glasses askew. On his other side sat a young man, just on the verge of outgrowing his teenage years. He had a tan that made him look like he’d been running around in the summer heat, a little curl in his soft brown hair, very lean, almost too lean. Almost starving. He looked at Henry with quizzical eyes. They were brown, and sweet, like milk chocolate, but so confused in the way he looked at him. The boy held a hand over his throat, trembling a little as he tried to speak.

“H-Henry?” 

“Buddy?” He asked. 

The boy nodded. “I-I’ve seen you a million times before, but never...never in color.” 

Henry looked down at his hands for a moment. His eyes widened a bit. His hands, so worn and stained from all his work, they felt real! They looked just as they had before he’d come back. 

“I thought you were supposed to be an old fart.” Buddy smirked. “You couldn’t be any older than Miss Pendle with a face like that.” 

Henry felt the side of his cheek. It was true, the wrinkles that remained weren’t from age, they were from a lack of sleep. He could feel it. He felt a lingering exhaustion that had almost fully evaporated. His heart ached. He hadn’t felt like this since he first left the studio, all those years ago. 

“Memories do that to a fella.” 

Both gentlemen turned at the sound of the voice. Buddy clung to Henry’s shirt. “W-who’s there?” He shouted. 

The voice merely laughed. “Relax fellas, there’s nothing to be afraid of here.” Such a familiar accent, something jovial, clearly from the city. But it couldn’t be, he didn’t have a-

“You’d be wrong about that. Just because you never heard me talk, doesn’t mean I’m incapable of it.” The dancing demon appeared, a loud ‘pop’ announcing his arrival as he tumbled off of a cloud and into the grass below. With some jazz hands on the landing, he snickered. “You probably weren’t expecting a visit from me, were ya old pal?”

Henry shook his head, but before he could speak- 

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Buddy jumped to his feet and stood in front of Henry defensively. “You stay away from him!”

“Ah geez, ya really gotta put a damper on things, don’tcha Bud?” Bendy shook his head. For once, his friendly grin faltered, falling to a rather solemn frown. “Look, I know what yer thinkin’, but I promise, I’m not here to hurt you. If anything, I’m here to help!” 

“Yeah, and I’m the queen of England.” Buddy narrowed his eyes. “After everything you put me through, sliding around on papers, the nightmares, almost killing my grandpa? You REALLY expect me to believe you?” 

“Almost-what? No! Are you nuts? None of that was me at all! You’re thinking of the ink! We aren’t the same thing in the slightest!” Bendy fumed a little, a bit of steam rising from between his horns. But he soon slipped into slight melancholy. “At least…for now we aren’t.” He sighed. “Look, there is a lot of complicated stuff happening here, but we don’t have time to debate that. It’s dangerous for us to even be here. So let me make this quick-” 

“Now hold on a second.” Henry finally spoke. “Look, I’m old, give me a moment to process this.” He pushed his glasses back up and held his nose. “Bendy, what the hell is going on here? Where are we?” 

Bendy groaned. “We really don’t have time to get into this fellas, Joey could hop in at any moment, I can’t risk-”

“Joey could what? ” Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Bendy, explain what the hell that means. Now.” 

It was rare for Henry to be stern like that. The man was too gentle for his own good most of the time. Seems the studio had hardened him. 

The demon gulped. “Alright, alright, fine, but you gotta keep up.” He gestured to the rolling fields of green and the blue sky above. “You see all this? This is a dream. I’d say it’s your dream, but frankly, I’m the one who laid it out like this. It was the quickest fix I had on short notice. But we gotta get through this before Joey knows I’m gone.” 

“Before what?” They both asked.

“Look, I WISH I had time to explain all this old man, but there’s a lot to cover. Just trust me on this one. Joey controls your little studio, and I’m one of the characters, I’m not safe from him either. Alright?” 

“Well that explains a few things.” Buddy sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Okay, so we’re asleep, having a dream together. Fine, fine. But why are you here? What was up with that weird lady covered in ink?” 

“Look, it’s...complicated.” He sighed. “She’s...not herself. And she won’t be for a while. Not your fault, but….” He paused, unsure how to put it. “You two shouldn’t have come out. Now that Belphene knows you can get out, it’s only a matter of time before Joey figures it out, and that means making it harder to get you all fixed. You’re in more danger than ever before.”

“What danger?” Henry asked. “How could anything possibly be more dangerous than what we’ve already been through?” 

“You have no idea. We all know Drew’s a twisted son of a gun, but you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” The demon shook a little, some of his ink dripping like sweat. “You’re not the only ones he’s making life hell for. We toons don’t have it much better.” 

As if on cue, Boris stepped out from behind a tree. “And now, we need your help.” He looked so sad as he looked at Henry. He couldn’t bring himself to face Buddy yet. 

“B-boris?” Henry asked. He stood up and held the wolf’s cheek in his hand. “Boris...old friend.” A small smile graced his lips, eyes thoughtful as he embraced the wolf in a hug. 

Boris could feel Buddy glaring into his soul as he hugged the man back. He rubbed his back gently, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry fer not bein’ brave enough.” He whimpered. “Sorry I’m not stronger for ya…” 

“Boris, bud-”

“No, don’t try ta talk me out of it Henry. I failed you. I keep failing you every time, and that crazy ol’ she-witch keeps hurtin’ you.” He sniffled. “If I were just a little less hard headed and scared, then you wouldn’t-”

“Boris, this isn’t the time! We’re on a schedule here!” Bendy groaned and shook his head. His foot tapped impatiently. “You three can mend things later. We gotta tell them the plan.” 

“The plan?” Henry questioned. 

“The plan.” Bendy nodded. Boris sighed as he let go of Henry, crumpling in on himself a little, still unable to face the gopher. Bendy continued. “Joey’s been terrorizing far more than just you folks. And now, he’s dragged someone else in. Multiple someones.” Bendy gulped. He didn’t want to say this next part. “He...he’s got plans...plans for your daughter.” 

Henry’s heart nearly stopped right then and there. He was stunned into silence. The shaking, the shivering, the unyielding dread as his rational thought began to shut down. No, he had to keep it together, he had to hear more. 

“ What is he up to? ” 

“He’s trying to rebuild the studio.” Bendy said gravely. “He’s working on finding the next generation of animators, actors, musicians, and more, to bring it all to life. And the kicker? He wants your little girl to inherit it.” 

“But...why?” Buddy asked in confusion. “I thought he hated your guts-”

“-He wishes he could.” Henry shook his head, quick to nip Buddy’s words in the bud. “He hates that I stood up for myself. He hates that I have a spine, but he can’t hate me. He can’t hate what I created. He only hates that it’s not his and his alone. Hates that he needs me.” He smirked, but it was quick to turn sour. “He’s really dragging Liza into this?”

Bendy nodded. “I’m afraid even Joey isn’t above harming children.” He sighed. “Goodness knows he wasn’t any better with Faye…”

“You mean-”

“Yeah. Her, the triplets, you have no idea how many kiddos lost their souls to him. The number ain’t too big, but it’s tragic that it ever happened.” Bendy shook his head, but he looked back up at Henry, a determined look on his face. “Which is exactly why I need your help, old man. There’s someone Joey’s roped into this, someone I need to get onto your side. I think she’s got potential to get you out of here, keep Eliza safe, but ya gotta get through to her before it’s too late.” 

“Who?” Henry and Buddy asked.

Bendy stepped to the side, revealing a scene from the old memory of Henry drawing with chalk on the sidewalk. A little girl was by his side, with her father not too far away. 

“This...is Bella. You didn’t know it, but you shaped the course of her entire life.” 

“I...I did?” Henry asked. His cheeks flushed a little, confused and surprised by the revelation. But Bendy could hear the shaking in his voice. He knew this would hurt. 

The demon nodded. “All it took was one little moment, one kind act. She’s an artist. She’s...your replacement.”

Henry was stunned into silence, his heartache only growing at the statement. “No...no he...he can’t, he wouldn’t…” For a man who rarely cried, Henry could feel tears welling up in his eyes. “He...he’s-”

“-Far too eager to take away what’s left in ya. I’m sorry, old friend.” 

Buddy looked at them both in confusion. “What are you talking about?” 

Bendy shook his head. He looked at Buddy, the look on his face was far too grave for a cartoon character. “You remember that day, when you saw your body on the floor? The day Joey tried tah make a circus monkey outta you?” 

Buddy was silent. He remembered it all too well, everyone could see that without him so much as blinking. He merely stared back at the demon and nodded. 

“Drew used your soul to bring Boris to life, feeding off of its energy. Cartoons don’t have a soul to call their own,” he explained, “We need that of an artist’s to bring us to life. It’s in sharing your soul, your heart, your love and passion in your work, that we’re able to exist as we do. Art comes from emotion, it’s about expressing ideas that can’t take any other form. When we’re compatible, it opens up a world of possibilities.” 

Bendy looked back to the sidewalk, gesturing to it as he continued. “Every time you put the pen to paper, we can see through to where you are. We can feel the love you put into us. We’re a part of each other. And that’s how it’s s’posed to be, it works. You stay in your home, we stay in ours, we give each other fulfillment, it’s the perfect relationship. But then Joey had to go and muck up the works.” He groaned, as if comically annoyed by it all. “He thought it’d be better to have us exist in your world, in three dimensions, and that’s just not how it’s meant to be. So in trying to pull us out for his stupid theme park, he found a way to look in, see us the way we see you. Didn’t ask, didn’t try to talk to us, just went and did what he wanted. And the result? I got dragged out into your world as the ink demon, no idea where I was or what was goin’ on.” He crossed his arms and glared at the ground. “The balance was so upset that I got all malformed. No soul, no love bein’ poured intah me, no true Bendy, just ink and anger. It’s that simple.” 

“But what’s that got to do with any of us?” Buddy asked. 

“Oh come on Bud, ya live in a hellhole full of cartoon monsters, you gotta see where I’m goin’ with this.” Bendy had steam coming off of his horns, but it cooled the moment Boris held his shoulders. 

“What he means is, Joey only needs a few people for his cartoons to be alive.” Boris began, “Just the right souls for the perfect copies. But then he has to do something with all the other souls, right? I mean, he ‘owns them,’ can’t just waste them, can ya?” Boris’ eyes went cold, almost as harsh as Tom’s. “So what does he do with all the rest?”

“Why let go of all that talent.” Henry stated simply. “He doesn’t have a studio anymore, doesn’t have the means to produce cartoons. Even if he had his ‘perfect’ toons, he’d have no way to broadcast his vision anywhere. No team to fulfill his dreams.”

“Bingo.” Bendy replied. “So he needs a new team, and quick. A way to get his debts repaid, his business rebuilt, and his legacy secured. But that takes time, something he’s quickly runnin’ out of.”

“He is?” Buddy asked. 

“Oh absolutely.” Boris nodded. “Joey’s gettin’ older, and sicker. If he doesn’t act soon, he’ll die before it all comes to light.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Buddy questioned. “If he’s dead, then he’s not there to control us anymore, right?”

“Wrong.” Bendy stated. “He made a deal with a demon Bud, those never end well for anyone. If he doesn’t succeed, I don’t know what’s gonna happen to all of you, or tah us. All I know is that his soul will fully belong to the ink at the end. And that means game over for everyone. The ink consumes all, it’ll make sure we’re its prisoners, forever.” 

“And what if he does succeed? What happens then?” Henry was too quick to ask. 

“Then...t-then you won’t be yerselves anymore.” Bendy gulped. “He needed all of you to bring his dreams to life. But if you’re in there, you can’t do that. If he wants fame and success in your reality, he can’t have a bunch of dead people workin’ for him. So the only way for him to get what he wants-” 

“-Is to put together a new team.” Henry rubbed his chin. 

“And if he wants a new team that’s anywhere near as talented as you are, he’s gonna have trouble. So in typical Joey fashion, he’s cuttin’ corners. Thinks that if he can shove your souls into here, he can shove ‘em anywhere else he likes!” Bendy huffed. “And that’s bad news fer everyone!”

“So what’s he tryin’ to do, recycle us?” Buddy crossed his arms. “It would never work. He couldn’t convince me to help him then, he can’t make me do what he wants now.” 

“A problem he’s thought about plenty, I assure you,” Bendy started. “What if I told you he wants tah cut your souls up, place the pieces that benefit him in his next employees?” 

“You can do that?!” Buddy’s face dropped in horror. 

“Not easily, but it’s doable.” Bendy hung his head in shame. “Think of it like makin’ chocolate chip cookies. You mix all the ingredients in evenly, but you still get some cookies that have more chips than others. You’re all just cookie dough, and he’s a chocolate hog.”

“Has he managed to do it successfully yet?” Henry asked. 

“I’m not sure. If he has, I haven’t seen it.” Bendy sighed. 

Boris raised his hands. “But ya still gotta be careful Henry. If he goes and puts your pieces inside of someone else, we don’t know what’ll happen to you. Ya could get erased, or they could…”

“Just like I almost did…” Buddy looked up at Boris, his glare fierce, but he was quick to turn it to the ground. “No one deserves that. No one deserves to be made into something they’re not.” 

“And he wants to put pieces of me inside of her…” Henry held a hand over his heart, disheartened and unsure of how to feel. “Why her?” 

“I don’t know Henry. I just don’t know… All I know is that he sees something in her, something he saw in you once. Dunno what it is.”

Henry stood there in silence. His hand was held over his heart, beating once again, slowly, calmly, but most importantly, with strength. He looked to Bendy and knelt down, lifting his chin up to face him. The demon’s head was twisted in pain, his pie-cut eyes wobbly as tears pricked at the corners. He gulped. 

“Henry, I-”

“Shh. It’s not your fault. You didn’t want this, no one did.” 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. You’re not the one who made the deal.” Henry looked to the ground and sighed before closing his eyes. When he opened them again, there was something hard in them, something determined, as strong as Sisyphus with his boulder. “Seems we have more work to do than I thought.” He turned to Buddy. “We have to warn the others. We have to hack away at the loop like there’s no tomorrow and bust them out. I don’t care what it takes, it has to be done.” 

“But how? We have zero leads as to how to break the cycle.” Buddy crossed his arms. “You said so yourself, you can’t stop that reel at the end from playing. So how do we get out of this?” 

Henry pondered it for a moment, and his face lit up, like a lightbulb had gone off. “Bendy, the reel...do you know if any other reels fit into the player?”

“Gosh, I...I dunno. I’d never thought to try that before.” Bendy rubbed his chin in thought. “I dunno what other reels we have tah be honest with ya.” 

Boris scratched his head. “Why can’t ya just destroy the reel?” 

Henry opened his mouth to answer, only to close it and think it over. “You know, I’d never thought to try that. Though frankly, I get so caught up in the moment at that part, I hardly know what’s happening around me. The loop makes sure I have no room to breathe.”

“Sounds like you could use a hand.” Buddy placed a hand on his hip. “We need to get someone to join you at the final fight. While you take care of the ink demon, someone else can scope out the place and see if there’s any secrets hiding in there, look for a way out.” 

“But how?” Bendy asked. He crossed his arms. “I can’t stop the ink from sending a monster after you, and the odds are they’d chase you both. Not to mention, there’s no one left. Everyone who could go with you is back in the puddles by that point, and the only two who aren’t don’t have a way across.” 

“Maybe not this time.” Henry smirked. “We managed to break hold of the loop a little more, and now a bunch of folks from the toy workshop are helping us. This is the perfect opportunity, we’ll get as many of them as we can to come with us to the end, and then we’ll take it on together.” 

“You sure about this Henry?” Boris asked. “I-I dunno if that witch of an angel can be trusted.” 

Henry reached out and took Boris’ hands in his own. “We won’t know until we try bud. We have to try, we have to give it our best effort. If it doesn’t work, we’ll try again until we get it right. I promise.” 

Boris squeezed his hands back before pulling the old man into a tight hug. “I hope you’re right…”

Henry nodded and held the wolf close, rubbing his back. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll make it through this.” 

Henry’s attention shifted when he saw a toddling little frame creep into his vision. A small child in pigtails with big brown eyes was looking right up at him, pulling on his pant leg. 

“Oh gosh, the kid, right, lost track of that.” Bendy sighed. “Before I send ya back...do you think you could do me a favor?” 

“Sure thing.” Henry smiled softly and picked up the kid. 

“Thank you.” Bendy let out a sigh of relief, wiping his brow. “I’ll have Alice try to keep this place out of sight, I gotta go take care of something. You fellas hang tight.” He smirked and hopped up to boop the kid’s nose. “You be good to them, alright kiddo?” 

“Yessir Mr. Benny!” The little girl saluted before snuggling up in Henry’s arms, giggling as she did. 

Bendy smiled softly, his brow furrowed. He gave a quick nod and then ran off, disappearing as his ink evaporated, leaving nothing but a few smudgy footprints behind. 

Henry, Buddy, and Boris had made themselves comfortable on a picnic blanket under a shady tree. It had been a peaceful afternoon. The kid had been a delight, babbling about all sorts of things. Her dad, the cartoons, a boy her age, how one day she was gonna go meet all her friends and hold a big ol’ party. Such lovely childhood dreams. They’d played games, they’d danced, they’d drawn with chalk, and for the first time in a long time, Henry smiled. Buddy and Boris could feel something change within him, something warm, something fatherly, something...hopeful.

Boris had the little girl in his arms, all tuckered out from playing. She was wrapped up in a ratty old blanket, a little small, but it got the job down, quietly snoozing. They all took some time to rest, enjoying what they could from the picnic basket as she slept.

“She’s really not so different from us as kids.” Henry sighed, rubbing at his temples a little. “Miss having that kind of energy. I needed it to keep up with Joey.” 

“You were friends as kids?” Buddy questioned. He grabbed a small something from the picnic basket to munch on, just some baby carrots. Somehow they hit the spot. 

“Yeah, he was my best friend...” Henry sighed. “I was always following his hairbrained schemes. Just came with being his friend.” 

“Sounds like Dot and I in some ways.” Buddy chuckled, taking another bite of carrot. He swallowed, but he frowned, his eyelids drooping as he continued. “I probably wouldn’t be in this mess if not for either of them. But I can’t blame ‘er, she just wanted to know the truth. Him however...” He nearly growled. “Him I could probably maim.” 

“I could say the same.” Henry shook his head. 

Buddy leaned against the tree and sighed, turning his gaze to Henry. “Here’s what I don’t get. If you were such good buddies for all those years, why’d you leave?” 

“You already know why.” Henry looked away. “Norman told you.” 

“Yeah, but he only told me what he knew. I wanna hear it from you.” 

“Well there’s not much else to say.” Henry sighed. “I wanted to be with my wife. Linda was...Linda is my everything. When I look into her eyes, I know that I’m home. And when she wanted to build a family with me, when she got pregnant...I knew I had to be there for her. Neither of us could handle the long hours anymore, the sleepless nights. So we both resigned. Joey...he didn’t take it very well.” 

“I’m...I’m so sorry.” Buddy whispered. 

“Me too.” Boris said quietly. The kid wiggled a bit in his arms, and he gently patted her. “Shh.” He held her close to his heart, the beating sending her back into a wave of calm. “He kept on’ sayin’ you’d abandoned him after you left, felt betrayed-”

“Well he’s wrong.” Henry curled in on himself more. “He betrayed me. He took advantage of me, of all of us...he’ll get what’s coming to him.” 

“Henry…”

“No more...I don’t want to talk about this.” He looked back at the kid in Boris’ arms, his face clearly troubled, but hard to read. “He’s really gonna put so much on a total stranger. He hasn’t changed a bit.” 

He turned to get up, when his foot knocked into something under the blanket. His face twisted in puzzlement, he reached underneath to grab it. When he finally fished it out, he found in his hands a worn sketchbook, the binding nearly ready to break off. When he opened it up to the inside cover, something was immediately understood, something he didn’t know how to put into words. 

“No…” He felt tears pricking in his eyes. “No, he...he can’t...she can’t…” He squeezed the edges, struggling to stay grounded. “ That’s just dirty. ” He practically hissed. He threw down the book and stood up. “Buddy, we’re going back.” 

“What?” The teenager hopped up, confused as to what was going on. “But-” 

“We can’t let them stay there any longer. We’re getting them out. Come on.” 

“Henry, what are you-”

“There’s no time, come on!” 

And with that, the old man ran off. He knew exactly where he was headed in this dream world. There was only one place he could go. Buddy hurried after him, tripping and slipping clumsily as he did, still not used to not having Boris’ proportions. 

Boris sat there and sighed, holding the kid still, whose face was screwed shut in pain. “Come on Henry...don’t make the same mistake twice.” 

The sketchbook laid open on the ground, the cover barely hanging onto the rest of the book. A smudged blot of ink hid the words from view, but Henry didn’t need to see them to know what they were. He knew something, something horrible, and he wasn’t going to let it happen again.

Hmm...I suppose that didn’t clear much up, did it? It’s not just the bad guys that harbor secrets after all. Seems we have more tangled threads than when we started. But such is the nature of Joey’s affairs: everyone gets tangled with him, one way or another. 

Loop or no loop, I am done being his puppet.

Chapter Text

It had been too long. There was a tension in the air that just would not dissipate. The searchers stood huddled around Sammy’s legs, staring at the machine, dumbstruck as to what they were supposed to do. Alice merely tapped her foot, her arms crossed as she huffed impatiently. 

“They should’ve come back by now.” Alice stated simply. “What’s taking them so long?” 

“I don’t know.” Sammy whispered. “We don’t know where it leads to, perhaps it-”

“-if I wanted your theories, I’d have asked for them.” She hissed. The venom was practically dripping from her voice. “We can’t keep waiting for them.” She sauntered over to the machine, placing her hand on the nozzle.

“And just what do you think you’re going to do about it?” Sammy crossed his arms and growled. “We can’t just go through there! We have to wait for him!” 

“And what good will that do us, prophet ?” She glared at him. “We can’t just sit here like a flock of, well, sheep!” She stuck up her nose. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to actually make some progress.” She turned to enter through the machine, when Sammy grabbed her shoulder. 

“Wait-”

“Don’t touch me!” She screeched as she pulled away from the prophet, smacking his hand to force him to let go. “Keep your tainted ink away from me!”  

“Bold of you to assume yours isn’t just as tainted.” He hissed, turning away. He cradled his hand against his chest, surprised and annoyed by how much it stung. “I was going to offer to come with you…”

“You? Accompany me?” She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “In case you haven’t noticed, I can take care of myself.” She crossed her arms. 

“I know you can. Even with Henry doing your ‘chores,’ it was never because you were incapable. Your skills are admirable.” His mask peered down at her. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. We can’t rely on Henry to set us free, we have to do our part. And my part is doing what’s best for my flock.” 

“And since when am I your flock?” 

“You’re not.” He said coolly. “But the knowledge of what’s out there helps both of us, does it not? I don’t like it, but we have a better shot working together than we do alone.”

“Since when do you care?” Alice squinted at him. 

“Since a long time.” Sammy huffed. “Whether you believe it or not.” 

Rosa tugged at Sammy’s pant-leg and held onto it tightly, with Jack following suit. “Sammy...are you sure? What if something happens to you?” 

Sammy merely chuckled, a dark sort of sound, maybe even a little cynical, but he was so gentle as he knelt down beside them. He took both searchers underneath his arms and held their heads close to his own. He did not look them in the eye sockets, only peering down at the inky trails on the ground. 

“We will be alright, my sheep. I will be cautious.” He turned to Shawn and looked him dead in the eye. “But on the off chance anything should happen to me, to us, you’ll take care of them. Won’t you?” 

“Aye lad, ya can count on me.” Shawn gave a firm salute. “I may be gettin’ up there in the years, but ain’t nuttin’ gonna happen to ‘em, not on my watch.” 

Sammy nodded. “Good. I trust you’ll have this under control.” He turned to Mike. “Keep an eye on the machine. The rest of you, stay safe. Try not to attract any attention. The lord is not merciful to those who disturb him.” 

His searchers nodded, as did the Butcher Gang, before they all took a step back. 

Sammy turned to Alice, gesturing to their portal out. “Shall we?” 

“Alright. Let’s do this.” 

And with that, they were off. 

Sammy found himself aching as he was dropped flat on his stomach. The ground wasn’t very comfortable, despite the carpeting beneath them. The angel stood a few paces away, through the threshold of the doorway. Sammy had always been one to notice the details, and now he could see so many that he could not decipher. Her stance was strong, her chest raised, braced for something, but her hands, firmly at her side, trembled. It was the subtlest of tremors, like an earthquake wanted to wrack her body, and she was keeping it at bay in her hands. Her breathing was quiet, the stillness suffocating. 

Sammy carefully got onto his knee and pushed himself into standing. He dusted off his pants, and the texture caught him off guard. It was just a force of habit at this point. For as dingy as the studio seemed, there wasn’t much to leave dust around there. It’s not like anyone had real hair or skin, just ink, and there wasn’t much dirt, save for whatever the next victim brought in. So feeling dust, actual thick dust, that was so odd. It mixed in with the ink of his hands. He looked down in disappointment and sighed, holding his fist to his chest. 

He hadn’t expected them to end up somewhere so...blue. When was the last time they’d seen colors? The room that the angel peered into was a kitchen, colored in a dingy mint and beige. But beside him were the gray walls of the ink machine’s room. He took a look around. An upside-down blanket hung on the wall, stacks of newspapers and magazines rested in the corner. A scaffolded shelf lived in the other corner, but most curious was the corkboard adjacent to it. So many red strings, connecting seemingly random objects together. Sammy didn’t know what to make of it. 

“What is this place?” Alice asked. “It feels...familiar. Yet, I can’t place it.” 

“I’m not sure,” Sammy replied. “But for once we’re in agreement.” 

The angel swallowed the lump in her throat, her hands still shaky as she went through the doorway. Sammy reached out a hand to hold her, but he stopped himself. He didn’t want a repeat of before. He merely shook his head and looked back to the corkboard, adjusting his mask so he could see a little better. 

He’d never taken Joey for a conspiracy theorist, and in that moment, he supposed that wasn’t really what this was. There wasn’t a scrap of theorizing in sight. It was hard to identify what exactly it was supposed to be. It all seemed so random. Pictures, names, scraps of fabric, items, all tied to each other, intertwined, like some kind of massive web in red. It wasn’t until he took a closer look that he started to understand. 

It started with his own name, with...was that a banjo string? It certainly looked like it, though Sammy dared not touch it. Something about it felt...painful. But stranger still, there was a photograph there, one of him and...someone he didn’t recognize. A shorter man, very long curly hair, glasses, a gentleman’s hat upon his brow...something about it felt...wrong. Sammy didn’t remember it being taken, and while he didn’t remember a great deal of things, he knew that he’d never liked having his picture taken. He could never smile properly for them, so he always looked disgusted, but this photo...he was smiling, and it was...handsome? At least, he assumed that was him, it felt like the blonde-haired man might be him, and the photo was next to his name, so that was logical to assume, wasn’t it? They both had their eyes closed, laughing, holding each other closely. It was such an intimate moment, who had captured it? 

As he looked around, lots of photos struck him that way. There was Shawn, with Grant by his side as they were chatting about something. It looked more like a snapshot of a moment than a posed picture, and that told him something was off. Joey had never been one to let there be a photo that wasn’t staged, he was far too worried about the company image. So how did these pictures exist? There was another, Allison and Tom he reckoned, the two holding each other tightly in someplace dark. Where could that have been taken? Heck, when? Tom wasn’t one to show that kind of physical affection, at least, not while anyone was looking. And then there was the telling one. Henry and Linda, with a sweet little girl all bundled up in a blanket. This he knew wasn’t real, there had been no cameras around when Eliza had been born. He should know, he was there when that moment happened, and Henry regretted it. He remembered it so clearly. 

“She’s...she’s beautiful Henry.” Sammy had never held a baby before that point. She was so delicate, like a bird made of crystal, and yet, so soft, like the petals of a fragrant rose. She still hardly had any hair, but what little she did have was fuzzy and soft, something Sammy felt very closely as she nuzzled into his chest, trying to rid herself of that ridiculous baby hat. 

“Oh sweetie no.” Linda giggled as she pulled the hat back on. “You need that to keep warm, you silly goose.” 

Eliza merely cooed and burrowed herself further into Sammy’s arms. 

“Wow, since when are you comfy to lay on?” Susie teased. 

“What are you talking about?” Sammy asked in confusion. 

“Your hands are colder than a winter in Buffalo, Sammy. I’d figure the rest of you would be too.” She giggled. 

“Not true.” Jack protested, “I can attest to this, he’s a lot warmer than he looks.” 

“I beg your pardon?!” 

“Aw hush Jack , that’s your warmth rubbing off on him,” Susie smirked.

“How do you figure?” Jack smirked right back. 

“‘Cause, you’re a big ol’ teddy bear.” Susie booped his nose. 

“Oi, will you three get a room?” Shawn groaned. 

“Now Shawn,” A strawberry blonde woman held his hands gently, laying her head against his chest. “Let the kids have their fun. We were just as bad once.” She booped his nose playfully, leaving the toymaker to turn very red. 

“Now Bailey-” 

Henry swiftly slid over to sit next to Sammy, looking at the little bundle of joy in his arms with such fondness. Sammy had never seen the man so at peace before. It was nice to see him finally be happy.

“You really found your treasure, didn’t you, Stein?” 

Henry merely chuckled. “I’ve found a lot of treasure Sammy.” He gently took the baby from the music director’s arms, cradling her softly as Linda came to snuggle up next to him. 

“She really is a little angel.” Susie sighed dramatically. “Little Elizabeth Stein, oh I love it!” 

“Aye lad, ya got yerself one heck of an adventure ahead of ya.” Shawn chuckled. “If you e’er need a babysitter, just call. Bails ‘er myself would be happy to help, as would the boys.”

“Thanks Shawn.” Linda smiled softly. “Thank you all so much for coming. I can’t imagine having a day like this without you all.” 

“Well of COURSE Linda!” Susie giggled and held her hands tightly. “Anything for you two!” 

Jack snorted a little. “It’s the least we can do. Celebrating a new baby beats crunching with deadlines any day.” 

“I still can’t believe Joey’s halted the use of vacation hours for the next month.” Bailey crossed her arms. “We were so looking forward to our anniversary trip…” 

“It’ll be fine Bailey. We’ll take it soon enough, just gotta ramp up production for a bit. After all, Drew’s got us workin’ ahead of the holiday rush. Maybe we’ll be on time fer once.” 

Susie nodded. “It’s gonna be a big one this year! Our special is gonna be amazing! Especially with all those new songs.”

“Sure, if we could ever finish writing them.” Sammy shook his head in distaste. “I’m so done with all the distractions, it’s been impossible to get anything done as of late.” 

“Could be a heck of a lot worse.” Jack chimed in. “We can make it through Sammy.” 

“Let’s hope you’re right.” He scoffed. 

Shawn crossed his arms. “Alright, enough of this. The poor man finally got outta the studio and here we are bellyachin’ about work. Let’s have a littl’ peace and quiet, yeah?” 

Sammy looked to Henry, who nodded meekly. He scratched the back of his head, they’d made it awkward again hadn’t they? He’d made it awkward again. Just watching them there, holding each other, and that little girl in their arms. He was finally happy, finally free from Joey. Finally free to live. 

If only he’d been brave enough to do the same.

Sammy snapped back to his senses. What was that about? He hadn’t had such a clear memory in so long, the past was so muddled and foggy, he hardly knew who he used to be, aside from a few things Henry had told him. Hell, he didn’t really know if any of them were true, but he trusted him, he had to. His lord wasn’t giving him answers, he had to start forging his own path to freedom. For his own sake, for Henry’s, for his flock, he had to succeed. 

He walked into the kitchen and took a look around. A Bendy magnet held up a childish scribble on the refrigerator. That told him multiple things. One, whoever lived here knew about Bendy, and two…there was a child here. He took a closer look at the drawing. There was an old man in a blue bathrobe, and a little redheaded girl in galoshes and a sweater vest, very odd. In between them was a crude depiction of Bendy, holding both of their hands. But the thing that gave it away was the signature. ‘Eliza J. Stein, February 1963”. 

Sammy’s heart skipped a beat. He peered over at the calendar on the wall. And sure enough, there it was, flipped to March of 1963. How much time had passed? When was the last time he’d seen a current calendar? 1940…oh what year was it? 1940….6. 1946! He’d been gone for-for seventeen years? Seventeen years, and no one had found him, no one had come looking. Seventeen years, he’d been locked up in that hellhole of a studio with no way out, his body made of ink and his hopes and dreams dangling just out of his reach, like a carrot on a stick for a horse. It was a sick joke. He clenched his jaw and moved along, not wanting to face that reality any longer. 

“Sammy, come take a look at this.” Alice beckoned from the other room. 

The prophet walked in, his steps firm but soft, a tip-toe almost. “What is it?”

“Storyboards.” Alice gestured at Joey’s desk, covered in concepts neither one of them had fathomed before. Scenes they knew, and scenes they didn’t know, were everywhere, littering the drafting table like nobody’s business.

“Are these…for us?” Sammy asked. 

“They sure as hell seem like it.” Alice shivered a little as she looked them over. “I mean you with the firearms, me with…with the throne? With the other angel? Are we…are we working together?” She wrinkled her nose. “And what’s this one? Is that your flock?” She pointed to a group of searchers in hats, all leaning over to look at…something. What they were looking at was blocked by their hulking frames.

Sammy shuddered. “It is. But why, who made these, why are they doing this to them, to us?” He looked around more. A searcher in a floppy hat labeled ‘too silly,’ what a mean thing to say about Rosa. Miss Rodriguez deserved better, Sammy thought, especially after all she endured as Joey’s secretary. Heck, all of these depictions deserved better. There were so many where he got destroyed, but also many where Boris got ripped apart. And after Henry had shown them who Boris was…the fact that Joey could be so cruel to a teenager, the fact that he had been so awful…it made his ink boil and sputter. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as what he noticed next.

“Is that…is that us?” Sammy pointed to one in particular, the two of them holding each other near a railing, almost a…loving embrace? He had to turn away, his cheeks felt warm, and if he had any stomach left, his nausea would’ve been more of a problem. Alice also looked immensely uncomfortable.

“Moving on,” she swiftly stated. “These look like drafts of things that, thankfully, haven’t happened. I mean, can you imagine it, me, as the big bad?” She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Unheard of.”

“I don’t know, I think you could pull it off.” While he had no mouth to do so with, he almost sounded like he was smirking. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She crossed her arms and smirked back. 

“You’re very good at adapting to your roles, angel. There’s never been a part you didn’t do justice to.” He sighed. “Look, I’m…sorry, for the animosity.” His hands played with his suspenders as he looked to the ground. “I know we’ve been…strained, for years, but I don’t mean to-” 

“Save it.” She said, “I’m not ready for that, not after everything that’s happened.” She was curt. “We only have so much time, we have to keep looking.” 

“Alright, I understand.” He said quietly. He turned to the wall where another corkboard was hanging, this one littered in letters and notes. “What’s all this?” 

“Letters, bills, just general garbage. Joey’s garbage. Somebody hasn’t been paying his bills, seems he’s no better off than we are.” 

“Joey? This is-”

“Yes, Joey Drew’s apartment. I can’t think of anyone else who would live here.” Alice scowled. “Of course, where else would the machine lead? It all ties back to him in the end.”

“Well...I can think of someone.” 

“Who?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Eliza Stein…”

“No, you mean-”

“Her drawing is on the fridge. But it makes sense.” He put a hand on his hip as he gestured to make his point. “Think about it. Henry’s in the studio with us, and we don’t know if Linda is still alive. For him to find a way to take custody of her-” 

“He sees her as stealing Henry away.” Alice covered her mouth in horror. “That poor little girl, what unspeakable things could he be doing to her?”

“I don’t know.” Sammy crossed his arms. “But I imagine it’s nothing too bad, save for being a terrible role model.” He grunted. “Joey wouldn’t hurt a child, his standards are low, but they aren’t that low.” 

“What about-” 

“I know, I know…” Sammy sighed. “I still think of him as a child too. But Joey wouldn’t have.”

“Still…I don’t trust that man near anyone, especially a little girl.” Alice held a hand over her heart, clenched tightly. “We have to do something.”

“We can’t,” Sammy said bluntly. “We’re made of ink Alice, what are we going to do, sneak in here and kidnap a child when he least expects it?” 

“I mean-”

“Alice.” He hissed. “We’re above that.” 

“I’d hardly call you above anything.” She sneered. “I just…I can’t let him do that again. He has no patience, no heart, if he did something, t-to someone so…so helpless, I’d-” 

“I know…I know.” Sammy sighed and shook his head. “All we can do is hope she’s smart enough to take care of herself. I mean she’s how old now?”

“I…I don’t remember.” Alice scratched her head. “It’s been so long since we saw her, I don’t remember when she was born.” 

“I…I don’t recall the year either.” Sammy held his chin in thought. “That’s…not right. Something feels…amiss.” 

“You can say that again.” Alice looks back at the drawings on the desk. “These feel wrong too. They don’t feel like Joey made them. He never had that kind of skill.” She huffed.

“I don’t understand.” Sammy looked distressed, his fist was shaking. “How did he manage to mess with so many things? What kind of witchcraft must he be messing with?” 

“You’ve got me. Let’s see if we can find anything else.”

Alice walked deeper into the household, her heels softly clacking despite the carpet beneath them. She peered into the bedroom. “In here.” She gestured for Sammy to follow. Sammy followed obediently, but the moment he stepped through the threshold-

“Agh.” He held the side of his head in pain. That aching, what was this?

“You alright?” Alice raised an eyebrow. 

“No…something is…something’s wrong-” Sammy fell down onto one knee, his vision blurring. Everything felt so heavy. But from the floor, he could see what he’d been missing. The source of his pain came in the form of a pentagram drawn under the bed. A spark of recognition flared up in his mind as he crawled back out of the doorway frantically. 

“G-get away from there!” 

“What are you-”

“Get OUT!” He said sharply. 

A little of the old Sammy peaked through, Alice didn’t know how to feel about that. But she did as he said regardless. “What are you so worried about?”

“The circle.” He pointed, his hand trembling. “Its power, i-it’s done something to this room, to this whole place.” He was dripping now. “We-w-w-we can’t, no, no no no no no, I should have known better, we have to get out of here-"

Creaaaaak.

"Oh no-"

Chapter Text

It was a quiet night in the Ewe household. Rain pounded on the window, relentless, noisy, not at all comforting. The anxiety for tomorrow was getting to her. She laid there on her cot, leg splayed out in its cast, staring at the ceiling. 

This was exactly what she'd been waiting for: a chance to prove herself. She finally had it, she was going to be free, she was going to be an artist. But it all felt too good to be true. She'd come so close before only to have it all come crashing down on her. This time had to be different. There was too much at stake, too much to lose. 

But Joey was an old man, an old man that was weary. She wasn't blind to it, he was not in peak health. Would he last long enough to give her this chance? Would he give her what she needed? Or was she doomed to give her love to someone that would be snuffed out all too quickly all over again? Would they be together long enough to really know each other? Was he going to die before she could escape in full? She feared it. She feared getting attached again. She never got to keep anyone she loved, something always took them away. Her best friend ran off to Florida without her. Her uncle ended up in prison. Her dad...Anyone she loved was always taken away from her. She couldn't go through that again. 

So many horrible possibilities ran through her mind. What if he got hit by a bus? What if he was mugged on the streets? What if he woke up too sick to come?!

No, keep it together Bella! I can’t lose him. He has to come tomorrow. She thought to herself. He just has to. Even though it was so far away, the memory replayed in her mind, over and over. It would not let her go. 

Bella sat by her father’s bedside day in and day out. There was no resting, no recharge, just waiting. Waiting on him, waiting for a sign, waiting for…waiting for what? Waiting for a miracle? A miracle, yes, a miracle was exactly what they needed. 

This was a course of bad luck that would not run dry. The world was getting darker and darker. Him getting laid off, her getting laid off, Carmen leaving at just the wrong time, Mrs. Oberon out on a business trip, Uncle Ernie behind bars, it was all a colossal mess. Bills needed paying, house needed cleaning, food needed making, and it all fell on her. She was so young, far too young to be taking care of all of this alone. And he was far too young to die, there was so much more he should’ve been doing with his life. So many more good mornings and good evenings to exchange, so many more stories to tell, so many more paths to choose from.

The sickness that held her father in its claws was relentless. It was cruel and uncaring, it was a real monster, a demon. A rotting, heartless, vile monster. He deserved so much better. Bella wished she were a monster hunter, a slayer of beasts, that she could do something, anything to protect him. That she could reach out and strangle it, choke the thing that was choking him until it burst apart in her grasp, guts splattering everywhere. But that was impossible, it was intangible. She could only offer him comfort. Good food, good conversations, a joke or two. 

And he’d laugh, he’d smile at her, but he was so cloudy. This thing, this beast, was eating away at him from the inside out. There were telltale signs. The jaundiced color of his skin, the yellowing of his eyes when they could stay open, the way he couldn’t remember what she’d said just moments ago. The fatigue, the struggle to move, the struggle to breathe . She hated it. How much of her dad was really in there at a certain point? How much had withered away? 

She was sitting in her chair that night, and he held her hand, rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. And he smiled at her. 

“I love you, you know that?”

No, no this, this felt like-

“I love you very much kiddo. You have grown so much. I’m so, so proud of you.” 

She squeezed his hand. The tears were starting, no, she couldn’t take this. This was her sign. Not another fake-out, not another moment of panic, this was it. Somehow she just knew that this was it.

“Don’t go.” She whispered. Her breath was shuddery, everything was spinning. She wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ever going to be ready. There were so many things they were never going to do together. They’d never make it to the cinema’s lights, or visit the island. He’d never see her first cartoon. He’d never walk her down the aisle if she found her prince charming. He’d never get to read another father’s day card or eat another Christmas dinner. They’d never curl up in the recliner and watch another Bendy short. They’d never have another intimate moment together and she hated it. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Bella…” His shaky hand ran across her cheek, tucked some hair behind her ear, though all it really did was fall out. “I will always be with you Bella.”

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered, “Please,” she begged, “don’t leave me. I can’t-I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He chuckled weakly. “Bella, my dear Bella. You are a bright, capable young woman, and you are going to be just fine. You have grown so much, and I know, deep down in my heart of hearts, that you are going to do great things.”

He sounded so weak, but he said it with such conviction, such confidence, that it still sounded strong. That’s what he always said, say something with confidence and people will believe you. 

“Just remember,” he said, “be kind, don’t lose your kindness. It will carry you through the darkest of times.”

She couldn’t bear it anymore. She held him tightly in her arms, wrapped him in what little she had left to give. His flame was going out, and hers was so dim. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He died that night, not really knowing where he was or who was there. Deteriorated into nothing, no longer the man she'd grown to love as her father. How cruel it was, that he had to suffer for so long. It was so unfair, so incredibly unfair. He'd done everything right, endured so much, he deserved so much better than this. He’d given so much of himself so that others would prosper, made the world a better place only to never get to live in it. 

What was the point in being kind, when death was so unkind to you? But it's what he asked of her, how could she say no to a dying man's wish? 

That was so long ago now. But the wound felt so fresh. Bella sat on her cot in the small apartment, her crutches resting nearby, knowing this would be the last time she sat here. It was so early, far too early, the sun wasn't up yet. But this was the time to pick herself up, time to move forward. This was a new beginning, she would be freed. She would carry on his legacy, she would live again. She would do the thing she promised him she would do. Tomorrow, Joey would save her. He promised. 

She held her sketchbook tightly in her arms, staring at the page with his photograph on it. Tear stains from many sleepless nights were joined by new tears. 

"We'll try Dad. We'll try." 

____

I'm sure you've noticed that this story has been quiet for a while, all of my stories have been. In part, it's because of what was happening as I wrote this chapter. This is important and kind of lengthy, so I’m including it in the fic itself rather than just the notes. You don’t have to read it, but it will provide some context.

A little known fact about Depths: I started writing the original version of this story when my dad's cancer came back. When I was just turning 17, my dad got diagnosed with metastatic uveal melanoma, which means he had a rare cancer in his eye, a tumor about the size of a lima bean. He lost most of his vision and depth perception in treatment, but he was alive and recovering, and it was good. He was almost cancer free by my junior year of college. Then 2017 came, and when I came home for Thanksgiving, his cancer had returned. It had spread to his liver. We started making plans for more treatment and moving closer to where his doctors were. We finally got there in July of 2019 (with multiple trips for treatment leading up to it), and he had treatment for a long time after that. The cancer spread to his spine, he struggled with so many side effects as we tried more and more things. For a while everything had a metallic taste that he tried to eat, I remember that being hard for him. All throughout the pandemic, he was in and out of treatment. Some days were good, others were bad, but at the very least, all of us were together for most of it. In the end, his last treatment is what sent us spiraling. It was a treatment that essentially supercharged the immune system and burnt it out in the process. My dad lost all the strength in one of his legs, and it only got worse as he rapidly declined this spring. 

On May 29th, 2022, he died, his liver failed and he was gone. He was 52. I'm 25. He fought for 8 years. I wasn't in the room when it happened, I couldn't watch him suffer, and his siblings were all there crowding the room, I didn't want to contribute and make him more uncomfortable. We were all staring at him one of the times he woke up, believing he wouldn't wake up, and it freaked him out, I didn't want to do that again. That was the last time he was conscious, but it was clear he wasn’t all there. The pain he was in was unbearable, he didn't really understand who was in the room. I took notes throughout it, I wanted to remember every detail,  I knew I needed to, I knew I had to write it. I’ve spared you a lot of the details here, this is highly romanticized, nowhere near as painful as what I had to go through, because you shouldn’t have to go through that pain too. I started writing Depths as a way to cope with my dad's cancer, to imagine a world where he was gone, and nothing could have ever prepared me for it. I'm amazed by what I got right, but there's so much I never saw coming. 

I debated including this chapter because it's so real to me and close to home, but there are many reasons to include it. 13 was his lucky number, it only feels right for this chapter to be the one. The parts of this chapter that hit me the most are the ones where Mark tells Bella he believes in her. Those are words I didn't hear a lot from my dad, but when I did, they meant the world. He supported my journey as an artist, even when he didn't fully understand it. My drawings, my writing, my voice acting, my dolls, my cosplaying, he said I was talented, he wished I believed in myself. I wish I saw in myself what he saw in me. He told me to go and live my life, do things that make me happy. One of the things I told him before it all ended was that I was considering going into publishing. Something I realized because of him, and because of all of you, is that storytelling is a huge part of my life. I cannot live without stories, they are as integral to my living, to my survival, as breathing. I think that gave him some peace. We’ve had a lot of tension over where I’m going in life in terms of a career. He always said he wanted me to be happy with wherever I ended up, no matter what I ended up doing. I'm determined to get there, not just for him, but for me. 

The thing I've realized throughout all of this is that I don't really live for myself. I live to serve others, and while a life of service is something my dad lived, there is more to life than making everyone else happy. You have to make yourself happy too, sometimes that is crucial to making life better for those around you. I've been so worried about how people will perceive my stories, that there are some things I haven't put as much emphasis on that are important to my vision. I need to stop denying myself what I want to write just because I don't think it has mass appeal. I want to focus on my silly little OC as a main character, I want to give everyone in the studio hope. I want there to be a chance for everyone to shine, be it short or long. I want to tell a story and complete it. So that's what I'm going to do, as best as I can.

I held off on releasing this chapter because I wanted to make sure there was another one to go with it. Because this is sad, and I don't want to leave you on that note. I need you to know that I will be okay, and so will Bella over time. I don’t write stories with sad endings. This is a story about healing, and I want to help everyone I can, including myself. We will make it through. 

Thank you, for continuing to read my story, for the comments that light up my day, for your patience as I try to find the right words, and for your excitement and love whenever we take a step forward. I’m incredibly blessed to share my work with so many amazing people, and I hope that you enjoy the next chapter. So many things have held me up, for better and for worse, but I’m glad to know that this story means so much to you all. Thank you for every kind word you’ve ever said, and for continuing to believe in me. I know, it’s a fanfic, that sounds fairly dramatic. But it’s not just a fanfic to me. This is my space to create. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do, create. Sending you all much love. Go make your dreams come true.

Chapter Text

Buddy was utterly lost as to what Henry was up to. The older man could only run so fast, and this was faster than he’d witnessed so far. Was it the strange bout of youthfulness that grasped him in this dream world, or was it his determination, his fear for things the boy did not yet understand? Who could say? But Buddy followed diligently. He wasn’t about to get lost, and the less time he had to spend with that wolf, the better. 

Henry stopped in front of an old theater, a bit beat up around the edges, but it was still in good shape for its age. The sign was almost as grand as Broadway’s. Was that what this was, the Broadway of Toontown? Buddy wasn’t sure.

“Henry? What are we doing here?” He asked.

“Saying hello to an old friend. If memory serves me right, this is where we’ll find them.”

“A friend huh?” 

Henry nodded and led them both inside. There was no one at the ticket booth, but the door wasn’t locked. He headed up the long flight of velvet red stairs, holding onto the golden railing firmly as he went. Buddy followed, pondering so many questions as he did. 

“So uh, you seem to know your way around this place. Have you…been here before?”

“Only in my dreams.” Henry smirked. “That’s the thing about being a cartoonist, toons don’t really leave you alone, not even after hours.” He kept moving upwards. 

“They don’t?” Buddy raised an eyebrow. “I don’t get it, I was an animator and I’ve never seen this place.” 

“Never?” Henry chuckled as he looked over his shoulder. It was brief, but Buddy could see some mischief in his eyes. “Guess Joey kept you guys down too much. You’re gonna love this, trust me.” 

Finally they arrived at the top. The rug gave way to a small door, and through that door, a balcony. Two empty seats in the same red velvet and gold as everything else waited for them, with a little sign that said “Reserved for Henry Stein and Guest”. Henry slid into the seat and got comfortable, with Buddy awkwardly finding his way next to him. 

Down below, the show was ready to begin. A conductor tapped his baton on the stand. Buddy was surprised, he looked like a living cello with a silly white wig. Sparkles flew out of his baton as he struck up the band, which similarly was made of many living instruments, as well as many miscellaneous toons from all walks of life. Ladybugs, cats, candlesticks, heck, even a broom that’d turned herself into a washtub bass. What a fun menagerie. 

The big red curtains parted, and on the stage was a harp with a flower in her hair. A dark veil covered her eyes, but Buddy could feel an intenseness in her gaze. She plucked at her strings in time with the band and sang. Her voice was spellbinding, like a hypnotic fog had lowered itself over the entire theater. 

“Toons of all times, lend me your ears. Lend me your eyes, lend me your hearts! For tonight, we have a tale to tell. A tale of a place so terrifying, it’ll send you reeling faster than a projector could ever hope to go!”

“EY!” A voice shouted from the balcony. 

Buddy jerked his head to look. A spotlight shone on a projector-headed toon in the very back of the theater, standing on a balcony of his own. He seemed a little indignant as he stood up on the railing. 

“I can keep up with this story plenty, thank ya very much!” He huffed. 

“Sorry Chandler!” The harp yelled back. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. Now quit hoggin’ the light, will you?” She huffed. 

“Alright alright, I suppose I could. But could I help? Pretty please Miss Lyric?” Chandler begged

Buddy couldn’t tell if this was scripted or not. They both came off as rather genuine, but it was too perfect to seem like a real interaction.

“Alright, if you must.” She huffed. “Get your flickery little bum into gear now, chop chop! We have a story to tell!”

The band started up again as a projector flickered to life upon the stage curtain. Lyric plucked at her strings and set the mood once again, her grin wicked as she moaned out the introduction.

“This is a tale with a fate most grim! A tale we all know far too well. For tonight, I’m taking you back in time, to when we thought things were far more swell.” She smirked. “This is the story of a man, whose dreams got too big for his britches. And the price that he paid, is a debt that remains, to all in which he is indebted.” 

Then onto the stage came a toon shaped like an ink pen, all dressed up in the spiffiest suit and hat he could muster. He had a cheesy fake mustache and a big ol’ bowtie, and a grin that was snarkier than snark. Buddy couldn't help but be reminded of-

"And we dare not say his cursed name!" The harp bellowed. 

Buddy leaned in and whispered to Henry. "Uh, what's all this about?" 

Henry shrugged. "Toons are a lot more sensitive than you'd think. They know us, and they watch us. It's become something of a bad omen to bring him up, they fear he'll start watching them I think."

The pen was quickly surrounded on the stage by various other toons. Sheep, rabbits, cogs and wheels, and dogs. Lots of dogs. Buddy was immediately made uncomfortable. He didn’t like that one bit. Henry seemed to pick up on this, taking his hand and squeezing it. 

The harp had a fire in her eyes as she strummed. “And we dare not praise his deeds” 

The cogs and gears started mashing themselves together, connecting and turning as they formed a web on the stage, separating the other players into pieces. On the far righthand corner, a sheep glared at a pack of wolves below her, baa-ing and bleating in frustration as she paced around on a platform. 

“Useless, USELESS! You sheep will never make it in this industry!” 

Of course, the wolves snickered at this. For they were so obviously not sheep, but Buddy figured that was part of the joke. He looked at the sheep in puzzlement. She was short compared to everyone else, a tiny little thing with very fluffy wool for her hair. It was tied back in a ponytail. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Mr. Lawrence. It was hard not to think of Sammy. He wore the same suspenders, he had the same shrill bark, the only difference really was that he was far taller, very tall. But seeing this sheep, as she circled around the stage ranting and raving, he realized that one didn’t need height to be intimidating. 

“Now play the notes RIGHT this time, or get out of my sight!” She stomped her hooves on the stage and started conducting the band, and the whole room was swingin’. It was truly a sight to behold. He remembered the music department sounding like that. For as cut-throat as it was, the result was beautiful. 

Yup, this was definitely a parody of Sammy. There was a jackrabbit in a bowler hat next to her, rapping its foot to the rhythm. They had a huge smile on their face. Buddy couldn’t parse who that could be. 

Then came waltzing in a familiar sight, the radiant Alice Angel! Buddy nearly fell out of his seat. He hadn’t seen Alice in so long, not like this at least. She strolled into a recording booth set piece and adjusted a microphone to her height. She smiled excitedly, and the emotion felt so genuine for just a split second.  

But then she started singing, and that was too much to bear. That wasn’t Miss Pendle’s voice. That was Susie’s.

“A little angel on my left side, 

a little devil on my right.

Both grabbed me by the hand to say, 

we’re gonna go and party tonight! 

Ah the bees are buzzin’ 

down the street,

And the stars are now aligned.

So take my hand

If you’re down to jam,

And we’ll go and have a real swell time!” 

Buddy had a few tears in his eyes. She sounded so happy. There was a passion in her performance that he’d never heard in Allison’s take, it was sad in a way. He looked over to Henry. His gaze was stoic, but he had a tear in his eye too, a single golden tear. 

Buddy quickly averted his gaze back to the stage. Now there was a group of toons to the side of the stage, scribbling and scrawling on various drawing boards. Clearly the animation department, and a ladybug in glasses was obviously meant to be Ms. Lambert. Buddy would recognize her anywhere. 

“Ugh, what a racket.” The ladybug laughed and shook her head as she went around and checked each animator’s work. “Lookin’ good team, we might just make the deadline for once!” 

And it continued from there. Each department was covered in one way or another. Cogs and wheels connected every piece of the studio together, orderly and yet, chaotic in its own way. And the pen went to check on each one. He interrogated the spiders in Heavenly Toys for the crooked stitches. He ripped up Alice’s sheet music and stomped on it. He even knocked a poor raccoon over, sending his oversized cap flying. He was just sweeping the floor! He couldn’t even cry about it, all he let out was a misplaced HONK, like a broken car horn. 

And then the stage lights dimmed. Everyone looked so sad and dejected as they kept doing their work. But the pen got into a taxi and drove away. The lights went out completely for a few seconds. 

“Is he gone?” A voice whispered in the darkness.

“Yeah, he’s gone.” 

“Whew, thank heavens, I thought he’d never leave.” 

Chandler shined the spotlight on the speaker. Buddy vaguely recognized him. He was a large inkwell with a feather pen coming out of his head. He adjusted a pair of spectacles while examining a long scroll of paper from behind his desk. He had a name placard that merely said “Accounting” in big bold letters.

“This is getting out of hand, we can’t keep going like this.” 

“Well what else can we do?” A wolf walked over. “He’s overbooked us on everything! If we don’t hit the deadlines, we’ll starve.”

“Aye, we can’t go home, not without pay,” said another, “I’ve got a wife and kids at home Dewey, please tell me you have some good news.” 

“None to offer I’m afraid.” Dewey sighed and took off his spectacles. “The numbers don’t add up. We’re coming up short again. Even if we were on time, I couldn’t find the money to pay you, even if I wanted to.” 

“So we’re working for nothing?!” The sheep came stomping forward. “This is ridiculous! I haven’t seen my niece in weeks! I’m sick of staying here, day in and day out!” 

“I know Faye, I know.” The jackrabbit went and held her tightly. “But what can we do?” 

“We can’t go on like this Hops. None of us can.” She gestured to everyone on the stage. “We’re overworked, we’re tired, I can’t do this anymore. I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind!” 

“Faye please-” The rabbit held her arm and pleaded, but she ripped it away. 

“No, you can’t talk me out of this. He can’t fire me, and he can’t fire you, partner. He NEEDS us, so he’s gonna treat us right!” 

“Faye NO! Wait!” 

Chaos erupted. Multiple departments were separated, but they each bemoaned their fates on their own. The ladybug held a spider, a leprechaun, and a sailor close to her, they all seemed ready to collapse. The wolves in the music department howled and wept. The spiders in merchandising were shivering on the floor in raggedy blankets. Dewey, the inkwell, gently banged his head against the wall. 

“We just can’t win, can we?” He sighed. “I can’t make it add up, I just can’t. They need me to, and I can’t…” 

Then the lights cut out again, and there was a large THUD. The lights flicked back on, and no one was there. The stage was empty, save for a smearing of ink on the floor. Buddy was chilled to the bone. 

“What’s goin’ on down there?” Chandler called out. “I thought we was ‘sposed to have a play happenin’!”

“We WERE!” The harp called up as she bounced back onto the stage. “But the rest of the script went missing!” 

“What?!” Chandler shouted. “No way, say it ain’t so! Well we can’t finish without the script.” He held his head and groaned.

“I know. Sorry folks, I guess this play’s over.” Lyric sighed. “And I was so looking forward to performing again…”

“Wait a second!” Henry called out, standing up and gripping the balcony. “Where’s the script?” 

“Henry, when did you get here?” Chandler called out. “She just told us, it’s missing!” 

“Yeah, but what about the part you just performed? That script’s still around, isn’t it?” 

“Hmm…” Chandler thought about it for a moment. “He’s got a point Lyric! Have ya got it?”

“Of course!” 

Out from her hammerspace, the harp pulled out a script. She folded the pack of papers into a paper airplane and threw it up onto the balcony. Henry was quick to catch it, unfolding it to check the words. Buddy leaned in next to him, curious about the state of the papers. They didn’t look wrinkled or folded at all. 

The words were a little drippy at the bottom, like they’d been water damaged. Buddy squinted at it, there really wasn’t much they could do, was there?

“Hmm…well we can’t just leave this unfinished.” Henry thought aloud.

“Why not?!” Buddy protested. 

“It’s bad form. You gotta finish the story!” Chandler called out. “What kind of show just stops and ends on a cliffhanger with no continuation? The audience hasn’t had their fill kiddo!” 

“Alright alright, well what are we supposed to do about it? Write the rest of the script?” Buddy asked.

“Yeah! Now you’re talkin’! Go ahead gopher, show us what ya got!” 

“Wait, what?! Why me?” Buddy held up his hands in surprise. “I don’t-”

“Pretty please sir!” The angry sheep from before stepped back onto the stage, her demeanor completely changed. She flashed those big puppy dog eyes up at Buddy. "The show must go on!"

"Oof, now you're in for it." Henry chuckled. "They're toons, they won't rest until they've reached the end of the reel. Seems we'll have to appease 'em."

The old man jumped out of the balcony, like he was hopping a fence, and landed on the stage below. 

"Hey, wait up!" Buddy was about to run down the stairs, but he heard Henry laughing. 

"Kiddo, the world runs on rubberhose, it's okay! Squash and stretch, bounce yourself down here!"

"Henry, are you NUTS?" Buddy flinched as he backed away from the railing.

The rabbit hopped over to Henry and licked his elbow, pondering the question as they rubbed their chin. "Eh, there's sort of a cashew taste in there, but it's mostly chicken-y."

A group of hens squawked from the audience, accompanied by laughter from the rest of the crowd. Buddy sighed in exasperation, but Henry laughed. The look on his face was so genuine, so sweet. At least he was having fun. 

With a gulp, Buddy hopped over the railing and bounced onto the stage. There was raucous applause when he landed safely, albeit with a few scoots of his bum towards the end. He got up and put a hand on his hip. 

"So now what? How do we continue the script?" Buddy asked

"I dunno, you're the writer here, I'm more of a storyboard guy." The older animator tapped his chin before snapping his fingers.

Henry flicked his wrist and summoned a brush into his hand. "Maybe we could draw it out."

Buddy pondered this for a moment. He supposed they could. But what direction did this story go in? It was a story about Joey treating people poorly, and it seemed so hopeless. He didn't really like that. They deserved a happier ending than that. 

Henry handed him the brush. Buddy's eyes sparkled as he felt the wooden handle in his grasp. "What are you-"

"You're lookin' pretty inspired. Go on kid, see where it takes you." Henry smirked. It was a knowing smile, like he had a good feeling about this. 

Buddy took a deep breath and exhaled as he turned to center stage. The brush had a nice weight to it in his hands, and the ink on the end of it glittered and glowed. It wasn't like the studio ink, no, this was golden, this was bright, beautiful, pulsing with a life, a heart of its own. Its thrall, its rhythm, it kept in time with the beat of his heart, and before he knew it, he was lost in the melody, consumed by the feeling. He stepped forward and let it take him, drawing what he felt. 

It started with a door. 

The door to Joey’s office, he remembered it so clearly. And that was the door they needed, the one they desperately needed to SLAM open! 

BANG! 

And there it went! Wide open, the door! And on the other side sat the pen at his desk, all cushy and comfy as he twirled his mustache. The sheep and the rabbit marched right up to him and pulled him down by the stache.

"Now listen here you good for nothing beast!” The sheep barked, “You have no business working us to the bone like this!”

“I beg your pardon?” The pen rolled his eyes. “And who do you think you are talking to me like that?” 

“One of the few reasons your cartoons get any attention, what’s who!” 

The sheep hopped up on a freshly drawn chair as Buddy kept going, rendering the scenery with a swiftness he’d never felt before. 

“You’ve been taking us for granted for far too long, Mister Draw. But we’re not gonna take it anymore. Where’s our pay?” 

“Yeah! Where’s our pay?!” 

The next thing Buddy knew, the whole gaggle of toon performers was there at the pen’s door, crowding the room and surrounding him. He was sweating bullets, they’d ganged up on him and there was nothing he could do about it. 

“I-I WILL pay you folks, honest! It’ll just take a little longer, but I swear, I will!” 

“How much longer?!” 

“You’re holding out on us!”

“That’s what you said weeks ago!” 

“Liar, LIAR! Pants on fire, pants on FIRE!” 

So many voices were shouting at him, a buzzing, screaming well of voices that closed in on him, further and further, until he had no room to breathe! 

“I’M SORRY!” He cried out! The pen had hit his breaking point, he was curled up in a ball on the ground, shedding tears that were blacker than midnight. And the room around them began to fill up with water. Or, was it ink? No, no it was DEFINITELY ink.

“W-what’s happening?!” The rabbit latched onto the sheep’s arms, climbing up on the stool to try and avoid the flood, but the ink only rose higher. Buddy felt it up to his knees, and the toons that were far shorter than him were completely engulfed, getting pulled under. Bleats, howls, screams, they were all falling under, unable to stop themselves from sinking. Not even the music duo could avoid it, the two falling off the chair and getting dragged under, screaming all the way. It was so loud, everything felt blurred.

A buzzing, screaming well of voices…

And at the middle of it all, Buddy could see the ink pen, weeping, his silhouette the only thing noticeable under the ink. Buddy was quick to wade through the liquid and throw his hand into the mess. It was up to his waist now, he could feel the ink trying to drag him under, but he wouldn’t let it. 

“Mr. Draw!” He called out. “Take my hand!” 

“I can’t…” He said weakly. “I have done too much wrong. I can’t save us, nothing can.” 

“That’s not true!” Buddy grabbed onto the pen’s hand and pulled with all his might, the brush still tightly in his grasp. “There’s ALWAYS hope! They need you, you have to help them! You have to end this!”

“But I don’t know how!” The pen bellowed. 

“Then I’ll help you!” Buddy pulled harder and got the pen above the surface, holding him to his chest as he gripped his brush tighter. Come on Lewek, think, there’s got to be a way out of this, there needs to be a solution. 

“Every plot has a conflict and a resolution.” He whispered. “Dot, gosh, Dot help me, you’d know what to do, how do we solve this?” 

It was as if the heavens had answered his prayers, a bright light shone from beyond the door, and there was the golden silhouette of an angel. Buddy had to shield his eyes, she was so blinding to look at. But there was one detail he could make out: the cat-eye glasses that rested on her chubby cherub cheeks. 

She knelt down, diving below the ink, and in a moment, the ink started to drain, a whirlpool swirling and knocking them all down. Buddy held the pen tighter, feeling the force of the inky ocean knocking them around relentlessly. He reached up towards the angel as he was sucked down with the rest of the screaming toons. He could see a faint smirk on the angel’s face, and dangling from her hand was a chain with a drain stopper. Like the kind you’d see in a bathtub. 

The next thing Buddy knew, he was coughing on the ground, surrounded by a bunch of sopping wet cartoons that were hacking up a lung. He’d assumed he’d gone below the stage, but no. As he peered out, there was Henry, running up to him from the audience. 

“Buddy? Buddy! Are you alright?” 

As Buddy was helped to his feet, he could feel the mass of ink wiggling out of his grasp. Mr. Draw landed on the ground and sprung back up, a little melty, but still in one piece. 

Thankfully, similar could be said for most of the toons. They were shaken, but they seemed mostly intact. The sheep’s wool was damp and sagging over her eye. She hobbled over, holding onto the rabbit tightly. 

“Heh, gotta say gopher, you sure know how to tell a story.” She smirked. “That was a pretty good performance.”

There was a round of slow applause that slowly grew, and as Buddy looked around, he could see through the blinding spotlight that all eyes were all on him. Roses were catapulted at the stage as Henry took his hand and held it up, forcing them both to take a bow. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have ourselves a new creator in the mix!” The ladybug from before came bounding over, taking Buddy’s free hand and shaking it vigorously. “You’re exactly the one we’ve been waiting for.” 

Buddy looked at her in confusion. There were so many smiles directed at him right now, it was a little disconcerting. So many little pie-cut eyes, all looking up at him, like gleeful children, like…like he was the answer to their prayers. 

“W-what are you talking about?” He jerked to look at Henry. “What are they talking about?” He strained to ask. 

Henry smirked and shook his head, chuckling a little. What was so funny about this? Buddy had to stop himself from shaking him. What was his luck, why was he always working with so many cryptic old men? This was not the track record he’d hoped for. 

“There was a saying an old friend used to tell me, ‘everyone has a story inside of them.’” Henry started. “Stories have the power to do great things Buddy, but they’re only as powerful as the people who interact with them. The creator, and the audience.” He gestured to the crowd. “And you, well, you have one heck of a story inside of you.” 

“What does that even mean?!” Buddy groaned in exasperation. “None of this makes any sense!” 

“I thought the same thing at first.” 

Buddy whipped his head around. There she was again, the blinding light, the angel in glasses. Her light started to dim, and finally, he could make out her features. That strawberry blonde hair, those glasses, those eyes, so direct and certain, and yet, so mischievous, so playful. That smile. It had been far too long since he’d seen that smile. That black and pink dress with the oversized buttons, just like the one she wore the day they’d met. That was her, after so long, that was HER!

“DOT!” In an instant he was wrapped around her, holding her tightly to his chest. She held him back, tightly, her arms secure around his quivering form. She was strong, every detail was so clear, she was just as he’d remembered her on his good days. No more fog and uncertainty, no more slipping muse, that was her, this had to be her. “Dot, Dot you’re here, you’re really here!” 

She wiped away the tears from his eyes, smiling gently, yet sadly at him. “It’s been far too long Buddy.” She ran her fingers through the back of his hair and let him cry as he hunched over into her chest. “I’ve missed you, so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.” 

“Is this where you’ve been all this time?” He sniffled and rubbed away at his eyes. “In this…toon dimension?” 

Dot nodded. “For a very… very , long time.” She sighed. “I’ve been trying to find a way to fix things. Ever since you were taken from us. I never stopped searching for you, for answers.” 

“Wait.” Buddy jerked around to look at Henry. “You said you had no idea who I was talking about when I tried to find her. What gives old man?” 

“I’m sorry.” Henry hung his head towards the ground. “That was only a partial truth. I wasn’t quite sure who you were at first. And as much as I wanted to trust you…it wouldn’t be the first time he tried to get in here.”

“I’m…I’m so lost.” He clamped his hands on Dot’s shoulders. “What IS all of this? What’s going on here?” 

Henry walked forward. “We’ve been trying to chip away at the cycle for such a long time, but some of our attempts…came at a cost. You…may want to sit down for this.” 

Dot took Buddy’s arm and led him to the front row of the theater’s seats. Henry took the brush Buddy had dropped onto the floor and started to draw on the wall. The gopher watched, trembling, unsure of what he was about to be catapulted into next. Dot walked up next to Henry, pulling out a pen of her own. She turned to look at him for a moment before she got to writing. 

“When you fell into the machine…I never stopped looking for you.” She scrawled on the walls the words ‘The Worlds.’ “I knew you had to be in the studio still, but finding you was another matter. Until I realized, you’d been strategically tucked away.” 

Henry started drawing as she spoke, before chiming in. “There are many worlds that exist, and they all exist with different rules. After the ink demon, Joey had to find a way to keep his creations contained . And as luck would have it, you were one of his earliest prisoners.” 

“He created the cycle, the pocket dimension inside the machine, to stop his monsters from hurting anyone in the real world, the realm we came from. A place that looped on forever and ever.” Dot sighed. “One by one, all those he infected with ink were thrown inside. He was…awful, to say the least. But there’s more to it than that.”

Henry finished scrawling up a diagram. There was the earth, and there was the machine. But above them both was a group of clouds, littered with a black and white rainbow. Dot labeled them. 

“Earth, The Cycle, and The Realm of Dreams. Three separate realms, constantly dipping into each other, but never one and the same.” 

And much to his surprise, Alice Angel herself hobbled over to Henry and Dot and pointed to the clouds. “The Realm of Dreams is where all of us go, the creations of humans like you. Anything you’ve made and given love to exists here. And toons, well, we’re filled with a lot of love.” She smiled sadly at Buddy. “You all gave us so much of yourselves, we can’t help but exist somewhere.” 

“So when Joey started trying to bring them to life, well, that caused some problems.” Henry shook his head. “He didn’t realize he was stealing life from something that was already alive. And that’s how you and Boris ended up stuck together.” 

“He was trying to save you.” Alice said meekly. “He was already fragmented in there, but…even just a piece of Boris knows he can’t let someone get hurt like that. It’s in his nature.” She sniffled. 

Buddy had his hands held together in thought, trying to take it all in. He tried to move past the details about Boris, he didn’t want to think about the pooch anymore. “So then how did you end up here?” He looked at Dot. “Why are any of you here if Joey threw us all into the machine?” 

“Henry and Abby saved us.” She smirked. “Joey is a storyteller, but he neglected so many of us in his plot, we were bound to find a way out eventually. Before his drafts were finalized, they snuck us out, brought us here to protect us.”

“He can’t be allowed to get in here.” Alice was blunt. “If he had access to our sanctuary, who knows what horrible things he would do?” 

The rest of the toons, even Mr. Draw, nodded in agreement. 

“He’s trouble for sure.” Chandler, the projector, had come down from his booth to join them. “It’s not just us JDS fellas that don’t like him, no toon worth their ink and paint wants anything to do with ‘im.”

“The toons feel the same way we do about it.” Dot added. “They were kind enough to give us a place to stay downtown, safe from any prying eyes.” 

“Who else is here? Are Jacob and the guys here?!” Buddy asked anxiously. 

Dot shook her head sadly. “We couldn’t get them here in time. They’re still trapped in the plot, though we haven’t managed to figure out what roles they’re in.” She huffed. “But we’ve managed to rescue others. Not sure if they’re anyone you’d know though. Spouses, missing family members, the ‘minor characters’ as Joey would put it, people that didn’t seem as important to his vision. Bodies that padded out the work.” She sighed. 

"It's abominable." The sheep crossed her arms and huffed. “If we had a path back to Earth, I’d go over there and give ‘im a wallop myself.” 

“Faye-” 

“Don’t go scolding me Henry.” The sheep, Faye, turned back and glared at him. “He’s more of a monster than the monsters he’s created. If I had it my way, he’d be suffering like everyone else.” She pouted and plopped on the ground with a cartoony squeak, her pie cut eyes ever angry. 

Henry sighed. “I’m sorry…I wish I’d known. I wish I could’ve stopped it.” 

“It’s not your fault.” Dot took his arm and held his hand within hers. “He’s the one that started this, not you. And now we’re gonna end it, together.” 

Henry winced at that, looking away. “I don’t know if I can…”

Buddy got up and stood on Henry’s other side. “You don’t have to. We can do it, together. You’re not alone on these loops anymore.” 

“There’s strength in numbers Mr. Stein.” The harp bounded over and banged her fist in her hand. “We’re with you all the way.” 

“Lyric’s right.” Faye hopped up. “Even if it means riskin’ everything, that’s our family in there! You all made us, you’re a part of us. And we’re not gonna let him keep you trapped forever.” 

Henry took his free hand and wiped some tears from his eyes, squeezing onto Dot’s hand tightly. “You all have so much heart…I’m sorry.” He wheezed and let go of Dot, falling onto the floor with his head between his knees. “ I’m so sorry.” He whispered intently. 

Buddy had never seen Henry weep before. Most of them hadn’t really, judging from the shock he saw around the room. This was a man who was so gentle and strong, stoic, but for good reason. Buddy figured, when so much has happened to you, there’s parts of yourself you have to tuck away to keep it together. He knew what that was like. But seeing Henry like this? It hurt him in ways he didn’t know he could be hurt. He hadn’t known the man that long, but the toons did. And the way they were herded around him now, leaning in to hold him tightly in the most impractical group hug possible, well, it gave him a lot to think about. 

It was awkward, as he looked at Dot, who also seemed distressed. She looked back at him and took his hand. Buddy squeezed it. It felt, better, to have her here. At least, in her grasp, he felt safe. He turned and pulled her into another hug, tight and warm and comforting, despite being covered in ink. They were safe, for now at least, and that would have to be enough. It was quiet for a moment. Almost…peaceful.

“Joey…wasn’t the only one who messed with the occult…” Henry finally spoke up. “This…this is my fault. I messed with things I shouldn’t have.” He shuddered, only for Faye to move in closer and hold him. 

“We know Henry…we don’t blame you. You didn’t know, no one did.” She said softly. 

“No…I know you don’t.” He said tiredly. He patted her head and stood up. “But now, I need to set things right. And I need your help to do it.” He looked directly at Buddy. “The toons are right, you have potential to do great things, to wield the pen against the sword. The mark of a Creator.” He held out the brush to him. “I think it's time to pass this on.” 

Buddy took a step back. “I don’t understand. What exactly are you roping me into here?” 

Dot held up her hand to cup his face, force him to look at her. “On the stage before, remember when you drew the scenery?” 

“Yeah? What of it?”

“Not everyone who picks up that brush can do it.” She smiled, there was almost an air of mischief about it. “Most of the people back at the safe house can’t. But you could. You can use the golden ink.” 

“And that means what exactly?” He scratched his head in confusion. 

“There isn’t just one kind of ink in the studio.” Henry chimed in. “There’s multiple, and they frequently mix. But the golden ink is special. That’s my gift.” He flipped the brush in his hand to hold it and drew up on the wall again, the shape of a heart. “There is a story in all of us, something waiting to burst out and be created. But not everyone is ready to let it flow forth. You, however, are.” 

Dot holds up her hand beside her face, and a pattern of golden scrawls shimmer over her knuckles and down her arm. They had a pattern to them, almost like a snowflake trail, frozen fractals where no two were exactly the same. “The golden ink manifests differently for those who wield it. But all those that carry it are undeniably connected. Henry and I keep in touch that way.” 

“Keep in touch?” Buddy asked. 

“We scrawl on the walls. No one can see the golden writing unless they’ve got a tool for it, so it’s like invisible ink, kinda. Keeps our plans hidden.” Dot smirks. 

“Look,” Henry butted in gently. “I know this is…a lot. And it’s a lot to ask of you. But we have a better shot at breaking the cycle with your help. Would you be willing to help?” 

Buddy was quick to answer. “If it means getting out of the studio and setting our friends free, then yes.” He nodded firmly. “I’m not gonna let Joey bring any more harm to us.” 

Dot clapped her hands excitedly. “Excellent! Oh this is the bee’s knees, I love it!” 

Henry smiled softly. “Then there’s only one thing left to do.” Henry held out the brush again. “Take my hand.” 

The toons all took a few paces back, almost forming a ring around them. Dot stood attentively at Henry’s side. Buddy took a deep breath. This was it, no chance to turn back now. He’d made up his mind, and while he didn’t know what the road ahead held for him, he knew he had to take it. Buddy never fancied himself as anything special, but there was no denying that he kind of was. The first perfect Boris, the first prisoner, the first to set the demon free, to see Sammy fall and record it. And now, he would be the first to end this. The first to change. 

He took Henry's hand, the brush held firmly between the two. It felt like there was a draft in the room, winds that weren't there before started picking up. There was almost a music in the air, something so hopeful, so dramatic, something with Sammy's quality of writing he thought. Something with…voices? Looking around, he could see the toons with their eyes closed and their mouths open. They were…singing? There weren't any words, just vocalizations, but something about it was haunting. Buddy held onto Henry tighter, afraid, but hoping he was safe. Henry held him tighter back. So tight, that Buddy could hardly tell the difference when the cracks started pulsing through his skin. Trails of gold swirled on his hand and patterned down his arm. He felt lighter, firmer, stronger on the inside. Henry put his free hand overtop of his. Dot did the same. Both held onto him, eyes clenched shut. He could feel a burning in his palm, but not the painful kind, oh no. It was intense, but it was warm, cozy, it felt like…like home. His heart ached, it felt so much like being surrounded by his family, where even if the house was freezing in winter or boiling in summer, their presence made it just warm enough. What he would've given to go back and see them one last time. 

That did it. 

He felt his heart set ablaze as he crumpled to the ground. The pain, oh it ate at him. Dot latched onto him and held him tighter against her, keeping him stable. Henry had let go. Buddy was left breathing sharply, his fingers trembling as he held up his hand, the brush thrust into it, to examine. He couldn't tell what this abstract pattern was meant to be, but as it faded away, he knew that it still lived within him.

"That should do it." Henry nodded. "How do you feel?" 

"Like my insides were on fire." Buddy twirled the brush in his hand. It was different than when Henry held it, like it had changed, transformed. It looked a lot more like a brush his grandpa would've used, still cartoonishly large, but still refined, painterly. "But…good. Like I can take on anything."

Dot chuckled. "Don't let the power go to your head, ya hear?"

Buddy chuckled. "I don't think I could if I wanted to. This is…" he brought his arm closer, only for the marks to fade away, "bizarre, and that's putting it lightly."

"But it gives us a chance to succeed. And that's more than enough." Dot smiled. "Call out to me the next time you fall asleep. I'll try to teach you how it works."

"Why not now?" Buddy asked. There was a twinge of impatience in his voice as he turned to Henry. "Is it…almost time?" 

Henry nodded. "We need to get back to Boris, before-"

"Before I rat you out to Bendy?" 

Boris came stomping in, holding the toddler in his grasp, who had thankfully gone back to sleep. "You two have some nerve running off." He huffed. "You could've at least told me what you were up to." 

Henry blushed and scratched the back of his head. The impish look of guilt on his face was so reminiscent of Bendy that Buddy could almost see a resemblance. "I'm sorry, old friend. I didn't mean to do that, just-"

"Got caught up in the moment, I know." Boris gave him the evil eye. "Just…take me with you next time? I don't wanna let Bendy down…" he sighed. 

Alice walked over and took the bundle from Boris' arms. "We get it Bo. You just wanna be included, have a chance to help." She patted his back and looked up at Buddy. "You two are gonna do good work together." She smiled. "But you'd better get going. There's only so much time before they realize something's amiss. Bendy can only keep up a distraction for so long."

"Where is he now?" Boris asked. 

Henry tapped his chin for a moment. "I'm…not sure. He didn't tell us where he was headed."

Alice's face went pale. "O-oh, he didn't? That's…yes that's quite like him." He paced around for a moment. "We'd better get you back then. I don't know if he'll be home in time to do it." 

"Alice, are you okay?" Henry asked. 

"I'm fine. We just need to get you home."

It was clear she wasn't. There was ink dripping from her halo and her fingers were trembling. She held the small child closely to her chest as she skittered off to the theater entrance. 

"Come on, we'll have to take the inkwell."

Buddy looked over to Dot, who seemed concerned as she bolted after Alice. He ran after her. "What's going on?" He asked in a strained whisper. 

"She's bad about opening up." Dot said bluntly, "but I think she's scared he's gotten into trouble. And if he's in trouble, the studio usually is too." She huffed as they continued to run after her. Goodness was that angel fast! "We'll send you back the fast way, he'll never know you were gone." 

"This is getting too complicated!" Buddy whined as he kept up with her. "Why are you all being so cryptic about this?! Give me like a little more detail here!" 

"I'm not sure how the heck to explain the amount of nuance we're dealing with!" Dot snapped back. "But we're low on time. We'll talk at the bar tonight, okay?" 

"What do you mean the-"

And the next thing he knew, Buddy had tripped and gone plunging into a giant inkwell. He let out a scream as he went barreling in, with Henry not far behind him from the sound of it. He turned and looked back up at Dot as he fell further and further into the darkness. 

"I'll explain eventually, I promise!" She yelled down to him, her voice quivering a little. 

Buddy didn't know how much he could trust that. But hey, it was better than nothing, right?

Next thing he knew, he'd woken up next to their second machine. The Butcher Gang had him surrounded, helping him up to his feet. 

"You doin' alright?" Charley asked. "You took quite a fall."

"W-where are Sammy and Alice?" Edgar trembled. 

Buddy looked at them in confusion. 

"We thought they were with you," Shawn piped up. "They went through the machine to find you." 

"Oh no, what could've happened to them?!" Edgar whined. "Oh this is bad, very very bad!"

"At ease Ed!" Barley patted him on the back. It's gonna be okay, they're gonna be fine…I hope."

Henry's ghost finally got up, looking back to the nozzle of the machine. "This…this isn't good." He said to Buddy. "If they're over there in the apartment, then-"

Buddy didn't need him to finish that sentence. If Joey knew they had a way out, well, then this might just be over after all. 

No, they had to have hope. This would work out. It just had to.

Chapter Text

Now I’m sure you’re wondering, where was Joey throughout all of this? For a lonely old man, he sure didn’t seem to be home. 

Joey was out at a beat up apartment complex, a place he wouldn’t have been caught dead at in his younger years. It was absolutely abysmal, you had to wonder if the people in charge ever took care of it. Cracked walls, mold in the ceiling, a single window that barely let in any light, only a lamp or two to keep the place visible.

But for as awful as it was, there was something good to be found. Joey had come over with a few extra hands and several boxes, determined to help get that girl out of there. He wasn’t strong enough to help much anymore, but he tried his best. He assembled boxes with some tape as she needed them, though there really wasn’t much to pack up. Bella’s living space was fairly minimal. She had a small cot that doubled as her sleeping space and couch (Joey dared not call it a bed, it simply wasn’t one), a few plates and utensils, a blanket that looked to be very old and worn, but really, all she had that wasn't essential were her sketchbooks and a small instrument case. Some were just folders with scraps of paper, but others? Others were a little nicer. Joey looked forward to looking through them, it was like a personal museum tour.

Bella sat hunched over the cardboard boxes, loading them up with what little she had. The strange men that came with Joey didn't talk much with her when she greeted them. She figured they must be the strong and silent type. But they were gentle as they held the boxes so she could tape them up. It felt like they'd been expecting a bigger job, like they were almost... disappointed. She felt bad having help, but she felt worse wasting anyone's time. But she needed it, she was still recovering. 

But many hands make light work, that's what her father used to say. And it wasn't long before they were all packed up. Soon she would be free, severed from her lease and having a new start on life. 

"Everything good to go?" Mr. Drew asked.

"Yessir, that's all there is."

But something was wrong. She was ready physically, but was she ready? Ready to take her leap? This place was all she'd had for so long, and as awful as it was, it wasn't the place's fault, it was those who didn't take care of it that were to blame. She held a hand to the wall and looked around for a moment before continuing.

“Sorry, I...I need a moment.” Bella paused. “Let me just do a quick walkthrough, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.” 

“Of course,” Mr. Drew said. “Take all the time you need kiddo.” Though he couldn’t quite hide his confusion on the matter. What could she possibly have left behind?

She nodded to him and hurried back into the apartment. Joey merely stood there, leaning on his cane, until he heard something leaking through the door. He paused for a moment before putting his ear to it. He turned his hearing aid up, and he was greeted by a beautiful sound. 

She was singing. 

“Heart of my heart, I love you

Life would be naught without you…”

It echoed off of the empty walls in a most enchanting manner.

“Light of my life, my darling

I love you, I love you…”

She had a bit of vibrato, not too much though. Reminded him of that silly peacock lady from all those years ago, when he’d been in the theater. Odd though, despite such a voice, she sang like a man.

“I can forget you never

From you I ne'er can sever

Say you'll be mine forever

I love you…”

A pause. 

“Only you.” She whispered. 

He could hear her choking on the words. There was a thump, then a creak. What was she up to?

“Pop…” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to be able to do this on my own. I should’ve been able to, you gave me everything I needed and I still couldn’t make it. I failed you.” She sighed. There was a faint clink of metal. “But maybe...I haven’t. There’s still time, I’ve still got another shot. You always told me that help would be there for me when I needed it. If Mr. Drew can help me, I’ll make both of our dreams come true.” 

He could hear the smile in her voice. It was so hopeful, so...naive. So young and optimistic, just as he had hoped. 

“We’re gonna do better this time. We’re gonna make so many people’s lives better, so many smiles, just like you said we would. I promise.” 

Eventually she came back out, and Joey thankfully was quick enough to not get whacked by the door. He faintly noticed her tuck something into her pocket as she came out. 

"You ready kiddo?"

"Yes Mr. Drew, I believe I am." She smiled sweetly before going to pick up the last box. 

Mr. Drew placed a hand on her shoulder and had one of his men pick it up instead. "They'll get it back to my place. There's somewhere we need to stop first, we'll meet them back at home." 

She nodded at that. "Where are we headed?" She asked as they headed down the stairs. 

"You'll see soon enough my dear, soon enough."

The answer was ice cream. It was still a bit too chilly in April for ice cream, what with winter lasting past the spring equinox, but there was one little diner on the edge of town that had what Mr. Drew wanted. 

Not unlike Bella’s dream. 

“What’re you in the mood for kiddo?” 

Bella’s face was flushed. She leaned on her crutches as though to diminish herself and hide. She was never good with these sorts of things. It was one thing in a dream, but it was another in person. But thankfully, the place was empty, they wouldn’t be holding anyone up if she took longer. 

“I’m not sure. What would you recommend?” Another trick from her dad. Of course, usually that question was for the server, asking what they enjoyed was always very telling. You could always tell if someone was trying to sell you the most expensive thing on the menu or if it was a dish that was actually good, most people weren’t good at lying about that. But Mr. Drew seemed to have good taste, and he was the one with the wallet here. She didn’t want to ask for too much, even if he’d offered to pay on the cab ride here. 

“Mmm, you know that’s tricky. There are so many good choices, I'd be hard pressed to pick any one as a favorite. Though, granted, I excel at finding the beauty in every flavor." He laughed. "Though you really can't go wrong with chocolate, classic really."

And Bella would have been resigned to pick the chocolate, had she not noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes widened.

"That one." She pointed. 

"Cherry?"

"Yes."

Now Joey looked at her, a glint or curiosity in his eye. "Very well," he turned to the cashier. "One chocolate and one cherry please." 

When they settled down with their treat, they were quiet for a long time. But Joey would be a fool not to notice the tears in her eyes after a while. How could anyone cry over ice cream? It almost seemed sinful. But this was the kind of thing that Joey lived for. Everyone had a story, and he wanted those stories. 

"Taste alright kiddo?" 

She nodded meekly, wiping her eyes and flashing him a smile. "Very much so. Thank you sir."

"So why cherry? It's certainly a unique choice." 

"It was my dad's favorite." She said simply while taking another lick. "He loved cherry. Made it feel like summer, he used to say. Made him think of Shirley Temple." 

"Oh really now?"

"Yeah." She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling softly as she stared at the table. "He was funny, he'd often say things like 'surely you jest,' and I started saying them back to him. And the response was always 'my name's not Shirley.' He had a sense of humor, I tell ya." Bella felt another tear welling up. "I'd give anything to hear him say that again." 

"You must miss him a lot." Joey said softly.

"I do…but it's okay." She looked Joey in the eyes. "Even though he's gone, he's never really gone. He's still here." She held a hand over her heart. 

Joey had to fight his urge to flinch, and he let out a boisterous laugh instead. "You know I knew a man who had a thing about still being here. Oh Bertie, he would've liked you. He left an impression, even when he left the room he was still there."

"Really? What did he do?" Bella inquired. He could see the stars in her eyes.

"Oh he made wonders like you wouldn't believe, brought my dreams to life in ways I didn't know were possible!" He gestured wildly with his free hand in between bites, though it's a wonder his ice cream didn't go flying all over the place. 

"He was brilliant, the lead guy behind the theme park project. And had he not died before the park got underway, maybe it would have seen the light of day." Joey sighed. "It was a great project, but I just didn't feel right doing it without him, you know? He deserved to see our park, our glory, before anyone else." 

Bella nodded. “I can understand that.”

“You can?” Joey’s eyebrow raised. 

“Well sure.” She took another lick as she gestured with her left hand. “Sometimes the reason you do something is because you love someone, you know? If they’re not there, what’s the point in doing it?” 

“Well I suppose so. It’s just, it was our dream, I still feel awful for abandoning it, but…” He clutched his chest dramatically. “My heart aches too much. It wouldn’t be the same without him. It’s never been the same, without any of them.” He put his hand back on the table, balled in a fist. It shook a little. “They weren’t just my staff. They were my friends, dare I say, my family. And now they’re all gone.” 

“All of them?” Bella asked incredulously. Joey could see the concern clear as daylight, what with the way her shoulders hunched and her eyes widened. She was like a chipmunk, ready to bolt at the next loud noise.

“All of them. When you get to be my age kiddo, you don’t have many friends left.” He sighed. “I miss them all, so much. But wherever they are now, it’s where they’re meant to be.” 

Bella nodded. Gently, she reached out and held his hand in her own, squeezing it gently. 

“Well…you’ve still got Ms. Farah. And Eliza. And…me.” 

She looked up at him meekly and smiled. It was such a kind smile. So warm, so inviting. Joey knew that he was charming, but she was charming in a different way. She was a bright light. Gentle, cozy, warm. It almost reminded him of someone else he’d once known: Lottie. Gosh, how was Lottie doing these days? Was she even still around? She had to be pretty old by now, older than him. He hadn’t really thought about her in a long time, but boy did he crave her presence now. She always knew just what to say.

That seemed to be a common trend with the women in his life. Most of them knew just what to say. Maybe, just maybe, having a new girl in his life would be a good thing. It almost made him miss Abby. 

"Thank you, Ms. Ewe." He chuckled as he squeezed her hand back. "You're a smart cookie, you have a way with words."

Bella blushed a little at that. "Thank you sir. We're trying our best."

"I know you are. Can't think of a lot of artists that don't." He chuckled.

Bella nodded and took another bite. “What was it like, working with so many talented artists?” 

“Well it was paradise.” Joey grinned as he gestured about with his free hand. “I had the best of the best on my staff, no one made better pictures than Joey Drew Studios! Why, I’ll tell ya, every one of them was a treasure. Gotta keep people like that close in your life, you hear?” 

“Of course, makes perfect sense.” She chuckled. “I mean you had everyone who was ever anyone. Mr. Lambert, Mr. Stein-”

“Yes, yes, I did.” He was quick to say. “And everyone made a world of difference to our team.” 

“But what was it like?” She asked. “Actually working with them? What were they like?” 

Joey could feel himself getting a little hot around the collar. “Oh come now, you don’t really want to hear about that, do you?” 

“Well of course!” She took another bite. “I mean, I’m gonna be working with you, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I know what it takes? How to be just as great as they were?” 

“Oh kiddo, you’re too much.” He laughed, brushing her off. “Those two weren’t that great though. If there’s anyone you should strive to be like, it’s Sammy.” 

“Sammy?” She asked curiously. 

“Yes, Sammy Lawrence, finest composer I ever had. He was responsible for every detail of our music department. Composed, conducted, played every instrument under the sun, and had a real knack for foley, let me tell you. Why, if he could’ve done it all himself, he would have!” 

“Golly, that sure is a lot of responsibility.” 

“It is, but no one was better for the job than him. Losing him was one of the worst blows we ever took.” Joey sighed, taking another bite. “Got into an accident, gone far before his time. I still think of his songs though. You wouldn’t believe how many awards they won.” 

Bella nodded thoughtfully in response, carefully working her way through the cone.

“At any rate,” Joey continued, “I don’t expect us to be running the same kind of operation as we did back in the day. But I will give you the best I can for gaining experience. By the end of our time together, I guarantee you’re gonna be the best artist in all of New York. That’s a Joey Drew promise.” 

She blushed, covering her mouth daintily. “You’re very kind Mr. Drew, thank you.” She looked up at him meekly. “It’s, an honor, that you have such faith in me. I won’t disappoint you. We’re gonna make something truly special together, I just know it.” 

“Oh you’d better believe it kiddo. The road ahead is gonna be such an adventure. You won’t know what hit ya!”

While Mr. Drew was busy talking up a storm over ice cream, not all was well in the world. 

The movers Joey had brought along arrived back at the apartment, and without so much as a knock, they came barreling in with what few boxes they had. 

The screams of the former music director left them shaken as they stared at him on the floor. Alice though? She couldn’t help but sneer after she got over the shock. Yes, she knew exactly what they were. 

“Unbelievable.” She scoffed as she stomped over to them, hand pointed right in their faces. “He dragged you two out?!” 

The larger of the two cowered back and held up his hands defensively. “Easy Miss Angel! W-we don’t mean no harm!”

“Fat chance!” She pulled him down by the collar. “Oh what, you get a proper shape and I don’t? You’re no one! ”

Sammy slowly got up from his spot on the floor, still shivering, but he looked at Alice in confusion. “Am I…missing something?” 

The angel groaned. “Just another example of Joey’s incompetence.” She growled, still holding the man’s collar. “Tell me, Prophet, how long did you spend locked up in the Gent facilities?” 

“The what?” 

That got her to pause. “Were you…not there?”

“Oi, don’t remember him there if that helps ya any.”

“Can it, Steve.” She hissed before gesturing for Sammy. “These buffoons used to work for the Gent Corporation-”

“Not anymore though.” The other spoke up. “Look, Alice, let us explain!” 

“Why should I?” She snarled. “It’s so unfair! There can’t possibly be a good reason why you two look relatively human! How come you get to be perfect and I don’t?!” 

The one she called Steve took off his hat and held it anxiously over his face. It was clear there were beads of ink dripping down his forehead. “It’s…not perfect.”

“Or permanent,” said the other, “We didn’t want to be dragged out there, Joey didn’t give us much of a choice. We’re just hired help, we swear!” 

“Oh sure you are-” 

“Alice, wait.” Sammy held up an arm in front of her, carefully getting back on his feet. “Hired help for what exactly?” He looked at them suspiciously. 

“Movin’,” said Steve. “Mistah Drew’s got someone moving in with him, we were instructed to bring ‘er stuff here. That’s all.” 

“Needed some muscle to carry it.” Alice crossed her arms. “Makes enough sense. But…” She turned to the prophet, then back to the movers. “Why…would he do that? Who…when has he ever been the type to want a roommate?”

“Gettin’ lonely as an old man?” the other mover shrugged, “Couldn’t tell ya. Don’t think she’ll last though. Timid young thing, barely had anything to carry over. Her leg was broken too.” 

“Another helpless victim.” Sammy stroked his chin in thought. “This doesn’t bode well. There’s only one of us he needs to finish the cycle. But if he’s got someone new…what could he be planning?” 

“Whatever it is, it can’t be good.” Alice huffed. “We can’t afford to let him succeed.” She pointed at Steve menacingly. “How did you get like this?” 

“I-I dunno!” The lumbering man hid more behind his tiny hat, cowering in fear of the tiny angel before him. “I’m sorry, I really don’t know!” 

She growled as she grabbed his arm and pulled him to eye level. “You have to know SOMETHING-”

“Alice!” Sammy yelled in a hushed tone, “Leave him be, this poor sheep has been through enough.” 

“And waste our only lead? Not a chance.” She held him tighter. “You have to know something. What did he use? A sigil, a spell? Concentrated ink? How did he do this?”

“Cool it will ya?!” The other mover pushed her off of Steve, his gloves now drenched in black. He huffed. “Well shoot, I was hopin’ for a bit more time…” 

He sighed and pulled off his gloves, revealing large, cartoonishly proportioned hands, made of a dark and moving liquid. “Look…We don’t know. We came out of the machine like this and were told to get to work. The only thing I saw? Was some string being moved around before we came out. No guarantees they’re related though.” He went and patted Steve on the shoulder. “We…we gotta go bud.” 

“So soon? But your sis-” 

“I know…I know. Maybe we’ll get another chance but…we can’t risk it now.” The mover sighed.

Sammy nodded. “The corruption…we can’t let it spread further.” 

They all silently acknowledged it. It was a sentiment they knew all too well. What the ink was capable of. For as monstrous as they were…none had the heart to make a monster out of someone else. No one deserved to be stripped of their humanity. One touch, that's all it took to send someone spiraling into the dark puddles. One little accident. 

“Bingo.” The mover sighed. “One day, maybe we could come back…but who’s to say it’ll be the same world by then? It already isn’t now.” 

“We really gotta go?” Steve put his hat back on his head. It was very clear he was close to crying. 

“‘Fraid so Steve.” He patted him on the back. “Chin up ‘ey? We’ll get to visit again someday.”

“Yeah…one day we’ll go home.” Steve sniffled and walked back to the machine. “You’d better hurry Miss Angel.” He looked at her sadly. “I know you could take ‘im, but…I don’t think you wanna see Mr. Drew.” 

“He probably doesn’t want to see me either.” She chuckled sadly, looking up at Steve. She was almost…compassionate. There was a side of her present that the lot of them didn’t see very often, almost like there was a bit of the sweet Susie Campbell still in there somewhere. She gave him a pat on the arm. “Thanks, big guy. Just…one small thing. Could I…ask an eensy weensy little favor?”

Steve nodded quickly.

“Thank you.” She gave them both a look. “Might I have a lock of your hair?” 

The other mover raised an eyebrow. “Dunno what you’d want that for, but sure, why not?” He slipped a boxcutter out of his pocket and trimmed off a few curls from the back of his head. Steve knelt down so he could do the same. 

“Thank you.” Alice tucked them away in her apron pocket. “Don’t get into trouble, okay?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Same to you two.” He tipped his hat. “We’ll be right in, but you’d best get a move on, back to your positions. We dunno how long Joey will be gone.” 

“Noted. Thank you, sheep.” Sammy said softly before approaching the machine. “We’d…best get back.” He reached for the controls on the side. “Ladies first?” 

“What a gentleman.” Alice snorted. “You don’t even know how to work that thing, do you?” 

“...You’ve got me there.” Sammy stared at the ground in embarrassment. 

“It’s fine.” Alice cackled a little. “I’ve got this.” She pushed him out of the way and proceeded to take a look around.

Sammy held his arm against himself. He felt a bit warm, but that’s when he looked at the cork board again. Something about it just felt…off. And that’s when his eyes landed on it. 

The red string connected everything together. But the end of it fell to a drawing, a drawing of Bendy and a flame-headed candle. The note under it was scrawled shakily. 

“Bella Ewe…What are the odds.” Sammy chuckled and shook his head. “Great, another cartoon character. Can’t wait to see this one fall apart.” He muttered. “Just another stupid side project that’ll blow up in Joey’s face. Some things never change.” 

Oh Mr. Lawrence, he always called it as he saw it.

Chapter Text

When everyone finally came back together in the cycle, it was messy. There was scolding, there was bickering, but there was also gratitude. They had learned things, and where there was learning, there was hope. So they devised a plan, a plan to escape. A plan to reclaim what was rightfully theirs. But they would need more help to pull it off. 

Henry had friends in higher places. With the toons in the minds of those touched by the ink, they could try their best to bring people together from a subconscious state. Alice, with her knack for mad science, had her heart set on a new project: figuring out how Joey’s “human disguises” for the ink creatures worked. If she could figure out how to recreate it, that would buy them enough time. They could get out, they could be close enough to perfect to live amongst those of flesh and blood. The trouble was keeping the ink contained, stopping the spread of any corruption. Sammy had his flock to care for. So many souls were lost within the ink, so many voices screamed out. It was his responsibility to dig up as many as he could from the depths, but his influence only reached so far. But he refused to give up, he had to keep trying. He wouldn’t leave people behind if he could help it. Not after all he’d done…

And thus began a new cycle, one that played to their strengths. The plan was simple: gather everyone together, rebel against the pull of the story, and storm the exit together. There was no way Joey could hold all of them off at once. Henry was hopeful. If they could just convince everyone to work together, they stood a chance. No deaths, no betrayals, just friends, finding their way home with every soul they had that could still think for themselves. It was unlikely they could save everyone, but if they could just find a way to break the confines of the contract, figure out what Joey had dealt, perhaps they could at least set them free. So they continued, cycle after cycle, to try and change their fate. And each time, things got a little bit better. They made progress, they had something to believe in.

But they weren’t the only ones scheming. Joey was hard at work in his own right, with Bella closely at his side to make sure it all got done. Joey Drew Studios had yet to create its final masterpiece. Though, Joey was convinced this was only the beginning. He had nothing to fear, the world was his oyster, and success was in the palm of his hands. He had a demon and her contract, an animator in training, and a niece that he loved to pieces. Soon, he would have his perfect story, and a studio to carry on his whims. His legacy was as good as secured. People would remember the version of him he wanted to be remembered. Bendy was his, the cartoons were his , that was all that mattered. To be remembered and loved was to live forever.

But there was one more variable that both their plans hinged on. One that needed a little push to fall into place. Joey sat down at his desk, his pen dipped in ink as he set out to write. Seems it was time to reach out to an old friend. 

Chapter Text

“Arf! Arf arf!”

That was the usual wake up call in the Franks household. Wally rolled over lazily, stretching as he got himself up, his bare feet hitting the floor. It wasn’t even two seconds before his dog had thrown herself up on his lap and tried to knock him over again. He laughed, scratching behind the old soul’s ears and nuzzling his face against their fur. 

“Yer too much, ya know that Sage?” 

Sage merely barked again, as though to shrug it off and say ‘don’t care, give me love Papa!’

“Alright alright, settle down girl.” He hugged that big ol’ dog and cuddled there for a moment. Even with all the gray in his locks and the wrinkles in his smile, Wally Franks still had the shining eyes from his youth. Those eyes could melt anyone, no different than how his dogs melted him. 

He gave Sage a pat on the shoulder before shoving her off and heading downstairs. It was a late morning, he’d slept a little longer than intended. His wife would be home in a few hours. Time didn’t really seem to matter anymore, not while he was in retirement. Life was good. His kids were grown, his grandkids would be over later that day for family game night. 

The old man opened the front door in his slippers and robe and retrieved the mail from the box. Once he was back in, he closed it and set the mail on the counter, before treating himself to some breakfast. Some toast, made from bread his wife had graciously kneaded for him the day before, and a glass of orange juice. It was fresh, he’d grown the oranges himself. Why not? They were abundant here in Florida, and his tree was very healthy. It was something nice to pass the time, and the fruits of his labor had never been sweeter. This was the life! He had a beautiful wife, beautiful family, fostered a new dog or two every couple of years. He was financially secure, he was free to do whatever he wished. 

It was worth all that he went through. Since leaving Joey Drew Studios, he’d realized he didn’t really need Joey. Sure, the name once came with prestige, but Wally had his own charisma. His heart drew people in, and with a few good connections and a whole lotta word of mouth, he found himself as the head of a handyman service. And now, his kids had a stable future, taking over the business when he’d gotten a touch too old and creaky to get down on the floor. Not that he minded, now he was free to rest. All he’d wanted was to rest, and now it was his. 

Sometimes, it all felt like a dream. A dream he hadn’t woken up from. He was fine with that. Don’t ever wake him up, he had it all here. 

Flipping through the mail, he had to do a double take. There was an envelope amongst the bunch, and the handwriting was shaky, but he knew exactly where it came from. A quiet little address for an apartment complex in the big city.  He had a number of friends in the city, but this…was not one of them. But he recognized them. This was the handwriting on his paychecks all those years ago.

Taking the butter knife from his toast, he sliced it open, revealing a letter folded into three. His eyes scanned the page, scrunched as he adjusted his readers. 

“Joey Drew? Well I’ll be darned, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.” 

Wally didn't think much of Joey. To be honest, he didn't remember a ton of interactions with the old fellow. But he remembered his charms, and his lack thereof. Joey was a tough man to please about half the time. He either loved what you did, or made you regret ever doing it. 

Joey's letter was an odd one to receive. He hadn't ever reached out before. Wally didn't think much of it. This felt like an old friend trying to catch up. But…it was more than that. Wally wasn't stupid, he could read between the lines. The handwriting was atrocious. The message was hazy, like Joey hadn't been all there when he wrote it. It was an invitation, a chance to catch up. 

And Wally…something in his heart ached. It ached of an immeasurable guilt. Joey was so much older now. He…he had to be getting up there in the years, huhn? It felt like maybe, just maybe, his time was coming to a close, rather quickly. Joey's letter sounded so lonely. So many of their friends had passed long ago. It really was just the two of them left, wasn't it? 

Wally went and ruffled Sage behind the ears. “Whaddya think ol’ girl, think we ought to go say hello? Give Joey a visit?” 

Sage barked. Wally chuckled. “I'll take that as a yes.”

So it was decided. Wally would go back to New York City. There was some unfinished business to attend to. But first, he’d better tell Carol. The missus didn’t like it when he went away, they’d have to make plans together. 

Chapter Text

There was no stopping what came next. 

Bella grasped her side as she propped herself up. She couldn’t recall exactly what happened. Everything was groggy, how long had she been out? Whatever the case may’ve been, she was aching on the floor. She felt wet and sticky, frankly it was downright gross. She held her hat and adjusted the brim, feeling that her hair had become a rat's nest. She groaned as she stood up, throwing her hat between her knees and she went to retie her ponytail. But that’s when she noticed something wasn’t right. Her hair usually went down to her shoulders, but now? Now it reached just an inch below her chin, barely long enough to pull back. Who had gone and cut her hair, and why? How? She’d been out cold on the floor, body skewed about in a messy heap. There was no way it would be that clean of a cut, and no hair was on the floor. 

And that’s when she noticed something else. What the hell was she wearing? Her apron was on. She hadn’t been wearing it when she left the house. In fact, this outfit...this was her old work outfit. Not a uniform per say, just her button up polo and tan pants, with gloves to top it off. She hadn’t worn that since...since the day Joey took her in. 

But it wasn’t just the costume change that was weird, oh no. Everything was rendered in sepia! Her attire, the floorboards, all of it, like she was inside of an old movie. Nothing looked real, it was all terribly jagged, like the world had been reduced to simple shapes. As though it were...a cartoon? But three dimensional? Who’d ever heard of such a thing? She looked to the spot where she’d risen from, noticing there was a puddle of black ink. Well that explained the stickiness, how gross! She was no stranger to having ink on her hands, that just came with being an artist, but her clothes? Those stains were never coming out. She sighed and opted to take a look around, try to find some kind of clue as to where she was and how to get out.

Turning to her left, she nearly smacked into a large sign. Bella took a few steps back to read. 

“Music Department: Director Sammy Lawrence. Huhn…” 

She mulled it over for a moment. That name, Sammy Lawrence, rang a bell. Reaching into her apron pocket, she was relieved to see that her sketchbook was with her, pencil tied to its cover. Whipping it open, she flipped through to the back to check her notes. Her head felt groggy, she felt like she knew this, but she needed a refresher. 

“Sammy Lawrence...that was Joey’s old music director. He’s the one responsible for composing most of the cartoon’s music. But if that’s the case…” She turned and noticed the Bendy cutout by the sign. “Then that must mean I’m...at the studio?” She scratched her head. “That would explain why it’s so run down, Joey’s notes said this place was gonna get demolished if he missed his next payment. But how’d I get here?” She shook her head. None of this made sense. What a bizarre dream this was. There wasn’t anything else this could be. She had to be dreaming. And she knew her mind, she just had to play along. She’d unpuzzle this soon enough.

“If I’m here, maybe the others are too. Let’s see if we can find any clues.” Bella nodded to herself and took a step forward. But the moment she did, a groaning came from the ground behind her. 

She screamed.

Coming up from the puddle was a melting black hand, grabbing at her ankle. She ripped her foot out of its grasp, only to have another one pop out and reach for her again. She shrieked as she ran off, not sparing a glance behind her as she hurried down the hall. That was too much, her mind struggled to process what that was. Part of her didn’t want to know. She dashed off as quickly as she could through the next open door she could find that looked safe, and by chance, that was the music room. She hurried in and closed it off, hyperventilating as she held her back against the door. Her heart pounded. That was too much, way too much, way too close. 

As her back held the door tightly shut, she finally had a moment to breathe. But as she took her breath, the ringing in her ears started to dissipate, and a new slew of sensations was ready to swallow her. There was…music. It made enough sense, the sign had said this was a music department, but she had hardly expected the sight that unfolded before her. 

The music room was loud, filled with so much song that there was hardly room to think. The zing of the violin, the heartful bang of the drums, the beautiful voice of the trumpet. But none of it compared to the masterful sound of the piano in the middle of it all. Yes, percussion was usually the ringleader, and this piano was the stand out, the one everyone followed. And from the sound of it, it went wherever it pleased. 

And the man who played it, well, Bella could only assume it was a man. While the torso shaped monsters around him were clearly not, with their sagging eye sockets and melty forms, he was a bit more dubious. He was shaped like a human, he wore clothes like a human, a pair of dirtied suspenders against his yellowed pants and black dress shoes. But his chest, it was as dark as the trenches of the ocean, and it didn't appear to be too solid, oh no. It was like it was constantly wet with a shining, black liquid. His face was hidden behind a cardboard mask, the simple shape of Bendy's face, worn in some parts more than others. There was a large hole in the teeth, but nowhere else. Bella could see he had no ears, and dare she thought it, he had no mouth. He commanded the piano with might, with dignity, like Poseidon did the waves of the sea, with skill far beyond what she thought a human would be capable of. It was like fairy music: mystical, enchanting, otherworldly.

The song found itself wrapping up in its closing notes, and there was a merry round of applause from the monsters surrounding him. "Fine work my sheep, fine work. A bit sharp on the ending there, we'll have to adjust that before the ceremony." His voice was very handsome. A bit on the higher side, gentle, yet silky, like if melted chocolate could speak. He was critical in a way that felt natural of a leader, and yet, there was something about him that didn't reek of a leader's ego. Or at least, not the same ego that Joey had. 

The man stood up from his perch, pushing in his stool as the monsters milled about, cleaning up the space. And then he saw her. His head swiveled in her direction and snapped its gaze upon her, like he had to do a double take to understand what he was seeing. She could relate, she wasn't sure what she was looking at either.  

"So," he started walking towards her, his footsteps dainty and yet, strangely commanding. "It seems a lost lamb has found its way into my domain." 

He bent down and tilted her chin up to face him. It was very clear to her now that there was no face behind the mask, no lips, no teeth, nothing. How he spoke was something of a miracle. He inspected her closely, and the cold of his fingers sent shivers down his spine. She tried hard not to flinch. He was freezing, how did-

"How curious, you’ve come far sooner than expected. So our Lord has given us another challenge, hmm? That's fine, it's nothing we can't handle." He chuckled to himself as he rose to his feet. He took her by the hand and pulled her up. Her grip was slick and jittery in his grasp. 

"Wh-who are you?" She whispered. "What…is this place?" 

"Hmm?" The man turned to her, and it almost felt like he should have an eyebrow raised, or the quirk of a smirk. "A curious inquiry, isn't it my flock? Shouldn't you know by now, my sheep?" 

She stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he playing with her? The monsters around him let out a strange noise. She supposed it might be a laugh of some kind, but it was hard to tell. 

"What are you talking about? We've just met, how would I know anything about you?" She huffed. 

"The clues are all around you, my sheep. You need only piece them together." He chuckled. "This realm, the ink doesn't receive just anyone after all."

"That doesn't make any s-agh!" No sooner than she'd been standing, she was back on the ground, a horrible pain gripping her as she fell to her knee, almost like she was kneeling before royalty. There was a pounding in her head, a ringing in her ears, and…voices. 

Voices…everywhere. 

Oh dear, is she alright?

This is wrong, this is WRONG! 

When did Henry get so short?

The demon will claim you as his prize.

Continue, continue! 

He will end you. 

Turn the page!

Why does it hurt? 

Something's changed…

This is the part where you run.

Get us OUT! OUT! 

The narrative must go on.

The narrative…the narrative? 

"The heck is…the narrative?" She grunted out. 

A gasp escaped the crowd. All the creatures had their eyes on her, and it was immensely unsettling. What had she done wrong? 

"Henry, knock it off." The man spit out. His tone was hushed, yet frantic. "Don't let it hear you-"

This is the part where it all goes wrong.

"Who the heck is Henry?" She slowly got back up to her feet, despite the pain that wracked her mortal frame. It felt like she'd been bruised, her side ached something fierce, like she'd taken a great fall. But that’s when it started to dwell on her. A fall, just like, the fall at the beginning of- and the metaphorical fall, of the studio. 

You are a part of him.

A part of him? A part of Henry? No, that couldn't be right, could it?

She looked up at the man with recognition in her eyes. "Henry Stein? The animator?" 

"Have you gone mad?! " He threw his hands over her mouth. "This isn't what we talked about! Don't you dare change the plan on me!" 

"I don't understa-"

"NO-" he interrupted. "He can't…he couldn't have. No, no no no he did not catch on, he didn't, you-you have to remember. Henry, please-" He sounded so desperate.

Fulfill your role!

TAKE HIS PLACE!

Get OUT! 

Keep GOING! 

She'd bitten straight through his hand and spit it out. The taste was awful, metallic and slimy, but anything was better than the stench it left in her nose. But the sensation sent her screaming, it hurt! It hurt so much, like it was burning her from the inside. What had compelled her to do that?

"NO!" The man gripped her by the arms and held her tightly in his grasp. "Leave them, leave this sheep in SILENCE!" 

The screaming voices in her mind only got louder before they were reduced to whimpers. The man carefully took a handkerchief from her breast pocket and wiped away at the ink on her mouth and cheeks. She was trembling in his grasp, her breathing unsteady, shaken, unable to stop hyperventilating. 

"What…the HELL was that?" She looked him dead in the eyes, tears pricking her own. 

"My sheep…" he sighed. "I'm so…I'm so sorry." He looked up to the railing. "My flock, give me a moment, will you?" 

No sooner had he asked, the monsters hurried out of the room, and the ominous light of the projector flickered to life. He let go of her, hurrying to the instruments left behind. A pluck of a note on the banjo, drum, violin, and cello, and the next thing she knew, a door had opened up. 

"Let us speak somewhere more…private. Where prying eyes might grant us peace." He grasped her by the arm and dragged her in. She nearly tripped over herself at the pace he was taking her. As soon as they were inside, the door snapped shut, and the man let out a breath she hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Oh dear god we're in for it now." He held his head in exasperation as she yanked her arm out of his grasp.

"Listen buddy, you owe me some answers." Bella coughed and leaned against the wall, struggling to stay upright. "What the heck is going on here?" 

"You really aren't Henry, are you?" No emotions betrayed him, she could hardly believe he could say that with a straight face. Then again, maybe he wasn’t. How could a being with no face even have a straight one? But he seemed sincere!

"Not in the slightest. I'm five foot nothin', at least a few decades younger, and as much as I'd like to think I make a convincing man, something tells me that's not what led to your confusion." She let out a deep breath. "My name's Bella. Bella Ewe. And you are?" 

"I am the prophet of our Lord and savior, the ink demon." 

"The prophet of-" That title, oh dear. No, it couldn't be, could it? Just like Joey's story. Just like… "Sammy Lawrence?" She raised an eyebrow. "No, you can't be, that's not possible!"

"Hard to believe, isn’t it?" He sighed. "That name hasn't been mine in…I don't know how long." 

"You can't be the real Sammy. He died in the forties, he's not some-some prophet for a bunch of monsters!” She threw down her arms in frustration. “He's a brilliant composer with an amazing legacy!" 

"As flattered as I am to hear such praises, I'm sorry to disappoint you, little ewe." He leaned against the wall, gesturing rather matter-of-factly. "But I am no liar, that would go against my cause. The people that once worked here have all met with a terrible fate. And if you're here, I'm assuming you have too." 

"I…I suppose that's one way to put it." She winced as she held her side. "But…how? Why? I thought…I thought this was just a story. How is this real? How am I here?"

"Likely the same way the rest of us came here: the ink machine." His voice was so cold, she could see how tightly his fists were clenched. Almost made her afraid they'd burst. 

"The…ink machine." She held her head, trying to grasp the concept. "It always creeped me out, but…I didn't think it was supernatural. " 

"You'll find a great deal of things are more than they appear, my sheep." He sighed and shook his head. "But you know of our story? What a curious thing." He looked her up and down. "How?" 

"I'm an apprentice for Joey-"

"SHHH!" He held up a hand in warning. "We do NOT speak his name around here!" 

"Why not?" 

"Do you want the ink to hear you?! For HIM to hear you?!" 

"What are you going on about? Ink doesn't -" 

"It DOES! It hears everything, it's ALWAYS listening! You dare not summon its attention with your foolish words. I will not have you dooming us all in MY domain!" 

She groaned. "You're off your rocker!-"

"Better to be called crazy than dead, child." His hostile demeanor shifted though, as he noticed her holding her side protectively. 

"...You're hurt." The prophet knelt down beside her, tracing his hands above the site of her injury. She flinched, but she didn't pull away. 

"Yeah, had a bit of a rough landing." She grit her teeth. "Suppose that's what happens when you fall into an ink realm? I think?" 

"You're in need of care." He paused for a moment and stroked his chin in thought. "I can try to take you down to the infirmary, but I'm not sure how much time we have. You're not Henry, but the cycle lives on. It may prevent me from helping you." 

"...You…you do realize that makes no sense, right?" She looked at him incredulously. 

"Which part eludes you?" He asked dryly.

"All of it!" She threw her arms in the air. "The heck is the cycle? What's Henry got to do with any of this? What is going on here?" 

Sammy sighed and pinched what used to be the bridge of his nose. "Okay, try to keep up with me. You understand you're in my music department, don't you?" 

"Yeah?"

"And everything looks like an old cartoon?"

"Yeah?..."

"Have you stopped to think about why it's like that?" 

"How should I know?! Look, I just got off of a sleepless storyboarding marathon, cut me some slack." She groaned in exasperation, holding the side of her head.

"Story-you're an animator?" He asked incredulously, his arms crossed.

"Apprentice level, but yes, I am. J-I mean, someone , asked me to help him with a project, an animation tribute to the good old days of Bendy. I'd been making good progress before I ended up here by accident." 

"Pffft, accident?" He laughed. "No one ends up here by 'accident'! What, did you hit your head on the way down too?" 

"Hey!" She growled. "I'm not supposed to be here!" 

"I can see that pretty clearly." Sammy huffed and crossed his arms. "But no one ends up here by 'accident,' lamb. This entire world is a story, it runs on a cycle that repeats endlessly. Every character has a part to play, and we're all bound to the narrative." 

"But…why?"

"Now that is a very good question, one I don't have a good answer for." Sammy looked to the ground dejectedly. "We…this is where the failures go, the ones he doesn't need anymore. Forever trapped in a cycle of torture and chaos. If you're here…" 

She balled her fists and glared at him. "...It was an accident. He-he wouldn't just throw me into some-some freaky cartoon dimension! Not on purpose! There has to be some mistake."

"I'll say. Something's very wrong. The cycle seems to have put you in the role of Henry. And if that's the case-"

"Wait, the role of Henry? And what the heck is that supposed to mean?" She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"He’s the protagonist, the one who goes through this haunting journey and tries to set things right." He said curtly.

Bella paused, letting the statement process. She softened a little. "So that's what you see. I look like him to you. Like Henry Stein…"

"Yes, you do."

"Odd…I don't look any different to me." She looked at her hands and flexed her fingers. Save for the sepia lighting and graphic outlines, these were still her hands. They felt safe, familiar, and trustworthy.

Sammy shrugged. "The ink is a fickle thing. To a certain extent, we see what it wants us to see." He sighed. "I can only imagine why it would veil you like this."

She flinched a little at that. "You and me both…” She paused before looking back up at him.”Then everything that's supposed to happen to him…will happen to me?" 

"I'm afraid that's likely the answer."

Bella groaned. "Great, well that's just dandy." She winced again, holding her side. 

This story was unfortunately very familiar. She didn't remember every detail by heart, but she knew enough to be dangerous. But if she was in the role of the protagonist, maybe she could help. Maybe that would let her out of this horrible dream. Maybe she could change the story, fix things. No, no that was…that was a curious thought. Why would she care? She just wanted to get home, and yet…she found herself holding a hand over her heart. Henry, if he tried to set things right, surely he must care about these people, maybe that was his goal, to fix things here. Maybe she could do that, and that would show not just her the way out, but the others too. Sammy sounded so much like Joey's stories about the good old days. He had to be human underneath it all, he just had to. And being cursed to be like this? How tragic. Maybe there was a way to reverse it all. It sounded like a stretch, but if it was possible for her, a normal human being, to be here, surely something else that was just as fantastical was also a possibility, no?

Her mind was made up. She would try to help. That sounded like what Henry Stein would do. 

"So what happens next?" 

"Well, usually right about now, he heads to the infirmary to find the next valve." Sammy rubbed his chin. "At least, that's the beat I think we're at. It feels like we're most of the way through. You have your keys, don't you?" 

"My keys?" Bella looked at him incredulously, but she took a moment to dig around in her pockets. Much to her surprise, a cartoonishly large set of keys came out. "Huhn, guess I do." 

"What about your axe?" 

"My what?" 

"Your axe? Your primary mode of self defense?"

"Why would I need an axe in a cartoon studio?" She raised an eyebrow. 

"To take down my flock of course. The cycle really didn't give you much, did it?" 

"'Fraid not." She huffed. "Context would have been nice." Though the thought of hurting anyone did leave her stomach unsettled. 

Bella thought that over as she continued to dig through her pockets. "When did these get so dee-EEP!" She felt something heavier in her grasp and yanked it out. Sure enough, there was a worn axe in her hands! She held it away from her person, a bit frightened.

"Hammerspace, a classic cartoon gag. Seems fitting for a man who made cartoons, no?" Sammy chuckled.

"Sure. Handy, I guess." She huffed. "So what, the world is gonna force me to go to the infirmary or something?" 

"Something along those lines, yes. You could try to delay it, but the cycle gets bit… cranky, about that. Then I'm supposed to follow you to see what you do next."

"Sure, 'cause that's not creepy at all." She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't you have better things to do?" 

"Yes actually, I do." He huffed. "I was supposed to rendezvous with the real Henry. We have just enough breathing room to finally end the cycle for good, and I don't need you getting in the way of our freedom." He cupped his chin in thought. "But now that you're here, everything is messed up, I have no idea if our loophole will work."

"Well why don't you go test that theory then? I can take care of myself." Where did that come from? She hadn't meant to be so sharp.

"With that injury? I think not." He stood before her, tall and menacing. Gosh, he had to be at least a good foot and a half taller than her, probably more. "You may be playing his part, but you're no Henry. You can't sustain the same kind of damage he can. And if Henry saw me leaving a human to fend for themselves, in here? He'd have my head." Sammy put a hand on his hip. "As much as I'd like to be on time…it could be useful to have you along for the ride. If nothing else, you're here for a reason. Maybe that reason is to set us free."

"For both of our sake, I hope you're right." She sighed and held her hand to her head. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be-"

"Don't apologize." He stated simply as he held up a hand. "The ink does things to you, to your mind. It works in mysterious ways. Sometimes those here cannot help the way they act." 

That hit her a little harder than expected. How could a simple art supply affect your mind so much? Beyond the fumes of course, the fumes were a lot. Usually it was what you made with the medium that was supposed to evoke emotion. It scared her, knowing how little control they all had. That in such a grand painting, she was but a mere brushstroke. She gripped the axe tighter in both hands. 

"Well, let's not keep your friend waiting. We'll patch me up and then keep going to wherever he is." 

"Alright. I can agree to those terms." Sammy turned to open up the door, leading them out of the sanctuary. 

But when they found themselves on the other side, they were met with something unexpected. The monsters from before were back. And they were closing in! Hisses, growls, groans, sounds of anguish! Sounds of attack! Bella yelped as she rolled aside to try and duck one, only to have her foot caught by another. She tried to kick it off, but it only dragged her further in, until she was knee-deep in a puddle. 

"Sammy, HELP!" She screamed. 

"That's ENOUGH my sheep, CEASE!" And with the flourish of a trained conductor, he made the motion for ending a piece. 

The sounds of screeching violins and war drums ceased. It was quiet. The monster let go, they all looked around with confusion, like they'd been woken up from a bad dream. Sammy looked down at his hands, shaking. It's like he was…confused. Bella had to wonder, did he…not know he could do that? Was that not his plan? He trembled as he tried to recompose himself, but his tongue was still sharp. 

"Don't touch her. NONE of you will touch her or drag her down, are we clear?" He yelled. There was a chorus of nods, to which he let out a sigh of relief. "Good…we aren't taking another human life. Not again." He huffed and took her hand, pulling her up to her feet. He looked back to his flock once more. "Rosa." He pointed to a monster in an oversized hat. "Go to Heavenly Toys and tell them I'm behind schedule. I'll be there as soon as I can. There's been…a disruption, urgent matters to attend to. The rest of you, reconvene with Shawn. We have a performance to prepare for and we are not going to disappoint." The monsters nodded and grumbled as they started milling about, grabbing their instruments and disappearing into the floor. "Good, good, thank you my sheep. We'll catch up with you soon." 

He turned back to Bella once they were gone. "I'm…most sorry, about that."

Bella had finally gotten her breathing back under control. "It's…okay? I think?" She shuddered. "What…are those things?" 

"My flock, the searchers. Once people, now reduced to this." He sighed as he started out of the room. Bella ran after him, trying to keep up with his long strides. "We were once a wonderful department, always full of song. But those days are long behind us." 

"I dunno, you sounded pretty put together to me." She shrugged. "If I hadn't been fearing for my life, maybe I would've appreciated it more." 

"Your praises are kind, but you never heard us at our prime." He sounded so sad, and yet, something in his voice smiled. "They were spectacular, we made magic happen. I'd give anything to be there again." 

It was silent for a moment. Neither knew what to say, how to continue from that rather awkward point. These people…how long had they been trapped here? Was there really a way to help them? Bella didn't know, but she hoped there was. Still, it unsettled her that they were so quick to try and do away with her. Henry…must not be well liked. And getting mistaken for him could prove difficult in the long run. 

She held her side again, gosh it was sore. She'd never felt a pain quite like this. Weren't dreams supposed to be painless? Wasn't that a thing that could wake you up? It felt like it was spreading. She whimpered. 

"Just a little further, my sheep." 

"Why do you call everyone sheep?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Every character has their quirks. When you're a shepherd, everyone is your sheep." He shrugged. "It's been so long, I can't recall if this was written into me, or if this is something I did before." 

"Before?"

"Before the ink. Before I was…this." He gestured downwards towards his body.

"Ah." Bella thought on that for a moment. "So this…story, this whole world, who…who wrote it?"

"Who do you think?" 

"Oh…and he…put you all in here. Does he…does he know you're here? That you're alive?" 

"I would be more surprised if he didn't." The prophet snorted. "You seem…conflicted, lamb."

"I just…I didn't know he'd do this, that he could do this. If I had known-"

"What could you have possibly done?" Sammy chuckled dryly. "This wasn't your doing, there's no inkling that this realm exists beyond here. No one is coming for us, no one knows what happened. We're probably proclaimed dead!" He held his head and laughed. "But soon it'll all be over. We'll be free. Come, we have work to do." 

He gently took her hand as they descended the staircase, arriving in the infirmary. It definitely had seen better days. Inky puddles everywhere, the sloshing in her boots was extremely uncomfortable. Tools scattered, drawers half open, beds unmade, what a mess. He directed her to sit down on the bed, not lay, just sit. She did as she was told. 

But then Sammy paused. "I-did not think this though." He thought aloud. 

Bella looked at him incredulously before it dawned on her. "You're made of ink, aren't you?" 

"Yes, that's a given-"

"And if ink messes with you, you're afraid of getting it on me, or, in me, I guess?" 

"Yes, that's accurate." He sighed. “Though I suppose there’s little point in that. You did bite into me.”

Bella winced a little. “Sorry, I don’t-”

“I know, I know. It’s fine. It’s just…going to make this infinitely more complicated. I don’t want to risk further damage to your form.”

"Hmm…well, here. Let's try this." Bella removed the gloves from her hands, setting them aside on the bed. She was careful not to touch the dirtier parts of them before she went digging within her pocket. "Hmm…ah, there we go!" She pulled her hand out and presented it to Sammy. "I always carry a spare. Go ahead, you can borrow them. I don't mind." It wasn't ideal, but it was something, right?

Sammy nodded thankfully and held a hand out. Bella tried to pull them over, but his hands were quite large, and…not human. Four fingers, just like a cartoon. He'd turned his head away, as though he wasn't ready to face the grim reality. Her heart ached. This poor man. She carefully pulled it on, his hand squelching and squishing into place. It was tight, but it would have to do. She sat back and pulled up her shirt for him to inspect the wound. 

"That's a lot of bruising." He muttered as he leaned in to look. "It's been a long time since I've seen that. I don't think Henry bruises like that anymore." His tone dipped into concern. "You're…did you get cut?" 

"What?!" 

"You have…a mark. And your veins, they're-oh dear." 

He hurried over to the drawers, digging around for something. He muttered and mumbled, something panicked, something frantic. 

But Bella hardly paid him any mind. Something else had her attention. A song…coming from below? She didn't realize she was doing it, but she rose to her feet and followed, her weapon and gloves left behind. There was a staircase that descended even further, into the sewers she guessed, the scent was repulsive. And the ink went straight up to her ankles. But she didn't stop, she pressed on. There was a shrill violin, crying out at the bottom. Something was calling her, someone…someone needed help. This compulsion, this feeling, she didn't know where it came from, but something in her gut told her she was needed here. 

She walked down the trail to find a labyrinth. Levers, lifts, crates containing who knows what. But a crate was lifting itself high above its former perch, the chains rattling as it suspended itself anew. Like someone…had just finished setting up before she got there. There was a bubbling underneath it, like a witch's brew. 

Like something was…alive, down there. 

Help…

It wasn't a screaming voice, not like the rest of the voices. It sounded sad, pathetic even, like there was no hope left. Something about that voice…she had to help! 

Without a second thought, she plunged her arms beneath the ink, and that's when it grasped her. She gasped, but she didn't let it deter her. It wasn't trying to drag her down, she was going to pull it UP. She yanked as hard as she could, knees bent and trying not to throw out her back. She kept tugging, rhythmically. 

One, two, three, TUG!

One, two, three, TUG! 

They were in sync, and soon enough, she had unearthed a hand! 

"Come on!" 

She grunted and pulled again, and the next thing she knew, there was a searcher, laid out on his stomach as he struggled to catch his breath. He was a bit pot-bellied, had a nice little bowler hat on, and gosh did he wheeze. 

The creature looked up at her, an exhausted smile on his face. "Thank you, miss." 

"No problem." She smiled back softly. "Are you okay?" 

He nodded as he slowly get back up on his-well, not feet. It was more of a stump? "I think so. Don't know what happened, I'm supposed to be down there but something's not right…wait." He looked at her in surprise. "You can hear me?!" 

"Um, yes, I think so?" She raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh it's been so long! I can't tell you the last time someone like you heard me!" He took her hand and shook it vigorously. "Jack Fain, pleasure to meetcha."

"Bella Ewe, pleasure to meet you, Jack." She chuckled, but she couldn't quite mask her concern. 

"Sheep, where did you go?!" Sammy came bounding down the stairs. "You can't just go running away, this is ser-" but then his gaze met the searcher's. "Oh, hello there." 

"Sammy, I'm so sorry!" Bella held her hands up placatingly, albeit, with a bit of guilt on her face. "I-I dunno what came over me, but, I had to come down here, and then I ran into Jack-"

"Jack?" He asked. He seemed confused. 

"Don't bother." Jack sighed. "He can't hear me."

"What, why not?" Bella asked. 

"Heck if I know." Jack sighed. "Unless you're a searcher, most people can't."

"Well that seems silly."

"You…can understand him?" Sammy asked cautiously. 

Bella nodded. "Crystal clear. He says you can't hear him?" 

"He's been mute for as long as I can remember." Sammy looked at them both with concern. "This, does not bode well. Come, back upstairs with you." He turned around to head up.

Bella nodded obediently and followed. Jack paused in his tracks. She turned to him curiously. "What's the hold up?" 

"I…I shouldn't." 

"Why not?" She raised an eyebrow. "The searchers are putting on a show of some kind soon. We're gonna go help once we finish up here. You could come with us!"

"But he…I'm sorry. It's…too painful." He closed in on himself, holding his hat over his heart. 

"Hey, it's okay." Bella smiled softly and patted his shoulder. "You take care of yourself Jack. I hope we run into each other again." 

"Heh, thank you." He smiled softly. "I, hope so too." 

And with that, he sunk back into the ink, a few paces from where he started. Seemed strange for him to go back where he was stuck, almost felt like she'd dirtied her hands for nothing. But hey, maybe it would be worth it. After all, as Sammy said, things are not all as they appear. And besides, this was only a dream, surely this was fine.

She found herself back up the stairs and sitting on the bed again. 

"I'm afraid we may be too late." Sammy continued to rifle through the supplies. "There's ink in you."

"WHAT?!"  

"It doesn't make sense. I see no cuts, no gashes, no way for this to be the case, but it's in you." He cocked his head in thought. "It's been there…for a while, I believe. The way it grasps you, it's firm, familiar. Intimate." He turned back to her. "How did you manage that?" 

"Like hell if I know." She brushed her hair behind her ears, staring up at him fearfully. "What does that mean, w-what's gonna happen to me?" 

"Well, it's hard to say for sure." He mused. "Depends on how strong your resolve is I suppose. You could be fine, taking Henry's route. He's shaped like a human for the entire journey. But, should the cycle change its mind…" he shook his head, "It may have other plans in store for you. There is no way of knowing." He tapped his foot a little in thought. "But it did drop you into my domain first, did it not?" 

She nodded timidly. "All I've seen is the music department, nothing else." 

"So it didn't drop you at the beginning? Hmm…you didn't turn on the machine, and yet, it lives and breathes. A curious matter." He looked to the ceiling in thought. "Something isn't right. Something has changed. Can't quite put my finger on it." 

"I'm sorry, I wish I knew why." She sighed and held her legs close to her chest. This was just getting worse and worse, wasn't it?

"Maybe you do." Sammy mused as he looked back to her. "Tell me, do you recall anything from before you came here?"

She nodded. "I was just getting back to the apartment with Eliza. We opened the door, then there was J-mmm, my mentor with another man and the ink machine. He yelled at me, I-don't remember what. The next thing I know, the floor was flooded with ink. After that…I woke up here." She held her head. "Ugh, that sounds crazy, doesn't it. Clearly I haven’t slept enough. But….If I'm here…what are the chances that they are too?"

Sammy was frozen as he looked at her. From shock maybe? From fear? From anger? She couldn't tell. 

"Sammy?" 

"Eliza…no." He shook his head. "So we were right…" he clenched his fists. "That scoundrel, getting a child mixed up in all of this, how dare he." He looked her dead in the eyes. "The chances are very good that she's here too, all of them. This isn't good. This changes everything. We have to find where they ended up." 

He started pacing. "There's only one reason for him to fire that thing up, only one person who isn't among our ranks yet. The last employee that got away. And if he's here now…we're out of time." 

"Wait, why?! What’s going on?"

“He finally found the last one.” He practically growled."I know every searcher, lost one, and beast like the back of my hand, I've seen into their depths. Only one soul isn’t accounted for. He's the missing piece, the one needed to complete the ritual. And if he's here, we'd better hope he hasn't set anything in motion yet." 

He walked closer to her and tilted her chin up to look at him. "There's not much I can do for you at this point. Your injuries aren't the kind I can treat. But there is…one thing, I feel is necessary. But it's not pleasant." 

"And that is?" She looked at him fearfully. 

"Would you be opposed to a ritual?" 

She looked at him incredulously. "What… kind of ritual?" 

"A simple thing really." He stood up straighter, taking off the gloves and placing them beside her. "Mixing your ink with mine."

"What's that gonna do?!" She flinched away from him. 

He turned his head away, dejected, but understanding. "It'll make it harder for anyone to hurt you. The monsters listen to me, they know I'm not to be trifled with, for the most part. Bearing my mark might keep them at bay. But more importantly, you can't move around as I do, and you'll need that if we're to make it to Henry." 

Bella gulped. That was a lot to take in. But if she already had ink in her, what harm was it to have a little more? It couldn't be that bad, could it? This was a fantastical world, it ran on fantastical rules, magic. Magic brought her here, magic could bring her out. That's how this worked, right? She just had to stay hopeful. There wasn't a problem that couldn't be solved with a little puzzling. There wasn't anything so dire that it couldn't be undone. She just had to roll with the punches, same as always. This would be fine. 

It had to be. 

She nodded to Sammy. "How does it work?" 

"It's not too complicated. But we will need to give you a little more of a dip if it is to latch on." He offered her a hand. "Come, we'll make this quick." 

She nodded and took his hand as he led her back down to the sewers, right where she found Jack. Both were knelt down over the inky river below. 

"This should do. Tell me, which hand is your dominant?" He asked. 

"Right hand, but I'm getting stronger in my left." She replied. 

"Alright. Give me your left then. It's best we preserve what we can." 

She nodded and reached out her left hand to him, and he took it firmly in between both of his. 

"Lord, may you guide this sheep to salvation. Show her the paths of your labyrinth, so that she may serve you." He firmly squeezed her in his grasp. "Open her eyes to your will! Your prophet requests that this shall be so!" 

She was almost thrown off balance as he plunged her arm into the puddles. There was a light that escaped the darkness. She could feel something attaching itself to her, etching into her skin. Sammy's grip was strong, comforting, and whatever this was, something told her it would be okay. Something felt…safe, about him. 

When he pulled her arm back out, it was covered in black. The ink wouldn't come off, like it had been permanently bonded to the outside of her skin. But amidst its darkness was a faintly glowing light. Spirals of gold were etched into her arm, a truly beautiful pattern. 

"There we are now. This should protect you." He stood up, offering her a hand. She took it as he pulled her up. "Can't say I expected the gold, it must be Henry's influence." 

She gently flexed her fingers, looking them over. The way they glittered in the low light was enchanting. "It's beautiful." Though no sooner had she said it, than the gold faded away, disappearing back into her skin.

"It is." He nodded. "A gift from my lord, combined with the golden ink of a creator, surely this is something of a marvel, the likes of which I've never seen before." He looked at her curiously. “Henry will want to know about this... But we're getting ahead of ourselves." He took her hand in his. "We'd better get going. Best not to keep the Lord waiting, my sheep." 

She nodded meekly. “Where to next?” 

“My office. One last thing to grab, and we’ll be able to get over there.” 

And so they made the trek out of the sewers and into the music department once more. It was deathly quiet, save for the creak of the floorboards. His office wasn’t anything impressive. It was small, and rather empty all things considered. There was a banjo sitting on a stand in the corner, and that’s the thing the prophet reached for. 

“There we are…” He sighed in relief as he quickly gave the instrument a tuning. A few strums of each note did the trick to tell him what needed fixing.

“A banjo?” The girl looked at him incredulously. 

Sammy nodded. “Yes. It’s my primary instrument.” He crossed his arms as he gripped onto the neck of it. “Is that a problem?”

“No! No not at all! I’m just, surprised, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in person.” 

Sammy looked at her incredulously. “Never? You’ve never seen a banjo in person? Really?”

She nodded. “Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Somehow, yes. But I suppose…not. Just disappointing really.” 

“It’s your favorite, isn’t it?” She asked meekly.

He nodded, finishing up his tuning. “That is the understatement of the century.” 

“Tell me about it.” She said simply as they started to walk out.

Sammy looked at her funny, cocking his head curiously. “You…want to hear? Are you sure?”

Bella nodded. “Why not? We have a ways to go to get to your friends, may as well talk, right? You seem very knowledgeable on the subject.” 

Sammy paused for a moment, seeming to really think it over. “I suppose I could. But, maybe once we get to Heavenly Toys. It's a lot of walking there, it would pass the time rather-”

He froze. Why did he freeze? 

Bella carefully waved a hand in front of him. “Sammy? Rather what?” She jostled his shoulders a little. “Sam? Hello?”

But he didn't answer. He paused a moment longer before walking in a direction, back into the center of the music department. He was methodical, rhythmic. Like he was following a song she couldn't hear. 

“Sammy? Sammy!” She yelled after him. “Where are you going?! Answer me!” She ran after him, grabbing his arm right as he was about to pass the music department sign. 

THUNK!

No sooner had she grabbed his arm, he struck her down, decimating his banjo in the process. He seemed so lifeless, so…cold. Her head was throbbing as she looked up at him, struggling to keep her eyes open. Don't sleep when you have a concussion, that was the common wisdom, and she had to have one after that. But no…no she couldn't…she couldn't…she couldn't stay awa-

“Sheep sheep sheep, it’s time for sleep.” 

—

“There we go now, nice and tight. We wouldn’t want our sheep roaming away now, would we?” 

Bella’s vision slowly came into focus. She winced, her head was throbbing, her ears were ringing, and her sides were aching. There was a rope wrapped tightly around her middle, keeping her arms stuck at her side, and inconveniently, squishing her injury even more. The more she struggled to get loose, the more it rubbed and burned against her sides. 

“What-” She looked up at her captor, his voice all too pertinent in her ears. Bendy mask, suspenders, void-like skin. This was…

“...Sammy?” 

“No, we wouldn’t.” He chuckled. “I must admit, I am, honored, that you came all the way down here to visit me. It almost makes what I’m about to do seem…cruel.” The composer sighed, hitting the axe into his hand a few times before turning around to set it down. “But the believers must honor their savior-”

“Sammy what are you-”

“I must have him notice me!” The prophet gestured with his arms wide. But then he got up closer. “Wait, you look familiar to me. That face-” 

“Sammy what are you TALKING about?! It’s me!” 

That finally got him to pause. “Ah yes. I do remember you.” He leaned in closer, moving her hair out of her face.” “You’re that good for nothing traitor . The one who left the flock when we needed you most. The nerve of you, showing up back here-”

“I'm not!” She screamed. “I'm not a traitor, I didn't do anything wrong!” It didn't take much for tears to be streaming down her face again. “Sammy please, why are you doing this?!” 

“Why am I doing this? Why did you leave us all for dead?!” He growled as he got up in her face. 

She turned away, her eyes clenched shut. His breath was rancid with the smell of ink and cigarette smoke. She dared to look back, and there he was. For a glimmer of a moment, she saw him. A blonde man with his braid falling out, splattered in ink. His eyes were dark, the irises and pupils missing from his visage, the sharpness of his jaw looked like it could cut her. He was almost like a pointy bird, as silly as it sounded. This didn't make sense, was this still Sammy? Was this…

“Answer me Henry!” He screamed. “Why did you leave us?! We could've had everything, we could have SURVIVED! We could have-”

“You're WRONG!” She screeched. “That's not true! He had to leave! Joey hurt him-”

“Joey hurt EVERYONE! That false creator is a good for nothing-i-it doesn't matter. It doesn't MATTER!” He huffed. “We could've survived…people wouldn't have died if you had stayed. You could've led us. You could've CHANGED things. But you didn't. You left us for dead. You only thought of yourself…you never even said goodbye .”

“Is…is that really what you think of me?” Bella asked. “Is that really my burden to bear?” She squinted at him.

“I see no other path.” He leaned in. Even with no face, she could feel him glaring at her. “You have sins to answer for, Stein.”

“But I'm here now!” She cried. “We're trapped here together! We can FIX this, if we work together. Sammy please, let me try-”

“And what? What could you possibly do differently this time?” He growled as he grabbed her shirt and throttled her. “You are mutiny incarnate Henry. No…I can't place my trust in you.” He let go, standing up to his full height, imposing, intimidating. “My faith belongs in one place only. In someone who will actually make a difference. Someone who won't let me down.” 

He turned around, reaching for the axe. “Someone…who not only promised me better, but will deliver. ” 

“What…are you going to do?” She was trembling like a leaf. 

“What I should've done a long time ago.”

“Sammy, please, NO-”

“I’m looking out for the people that matter . That thing you're ‘oh so good’ at.” He said sarcastically, wiggling his fingers with his free hand. He held up his arms dramatically.

“I summon you, ink demon! Arise, and claim this tender sheep!” He grasped her axe with both hands, and with one swift movement-

“AHHH!” 

A wail akin to a demon being cast out by holy water. He'd slit her throat, and the blood that spilled from it…it was black. It was ink . 

The prophet pressed his fingers to it before taking them to the ground, drawing a circle around where she'd been tied. The spokes of a pentagram came into being. The direction, the spirit he wished to invoke, he made every movement carefully. He was not about to make the same mistake twice. Bella knew this. How did she know this? 

“Sammy, STOP!” But it wasn't Bella that cried out. That was not her voice. “You have to stop, we can't go on like this!” 

The golden light of the specter made itself known. Henry was in the room with them. He materialized in front of her, holding his arms out protectively. “That's ENOUGH prophet!”

“It's never enough, it will never be enough Henry! You must pay for what you've done, answer for what you put us through!” He clawed at the spirit, only for his arms to go right through him. “You have no reason to listen to me. Let me give you a new reason.” 

“Leave the kid out of this!” Henry's eyes glowed brilliantly in the darkness of the room, putting every candle in Sammy's ritual space to shame. When had it gotten so dark? 

Shadows danced over the walls. An inky aura settled into the room, pulsing and flowing, like a coursing river. Like waves crashing in the ocean. They weren't underwater, but suddenly, Bella felt herself struggling to breath. 

The heartbeat. She could see the ghost’s heart, pounding in his chest. It was loud, so loud. 

“No…Sammy WHY-”

“You know perfectly well why.” The prophet was struggling to stand upright. The aura in the room darkened, growing heavier, dragging them all down. Sammy had been forced onto his knees. “I have to-I HAVE TO-”

…

…

…

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE

The screams of the demon were so grating, so loud. So heavy. He charged in, and all she could see was a claw coming straight for her. This was the end. 

“PLEASE-NO!-” she cried.

That did it. 

“My lord, stop! I don't want this, I DON'T-”

Sammy jumped in front of his sacrifice, his arms raised defensively. But it wasn't enough. Deep down, maybe they both knew it wouldn't be. It never would be. But as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. 

At least this time, maybe it could still be paved. 

“NO!” Henry cried out. 

This changed everything.

—

Nothingness. How does one begin to describe nothingness? The feeling of barely being alive, the feeling of the void that swallows you whole. Despite there being so many voices around her…she felt incredibly alone. So weak, so vulnerable, so…lost. Bella had nightmares before, where she was alone in the dark. But she would be fine. They were all just dreams. This was all just a bad dream. Sammy wasn't real, he hadn't betrayed her. This was her mind playing tricks on her, her subconscious deciding to punish her for the crime of getting too comfortable. That had to be it, she hadn't gotten enough sleep. She was imagining the horrible possibilities of your characters coming to kill you. Something that was not only illogical, but also impossible. She was fine, soon this would be over, she could wake up, and she'd get back to work in the morning. Just like Joey expected her to. Another day at the grind, another day in…the cycle. 

“Bella? Bella!” A voice in the distance called out. Slight New Yorker accent, cartoonishly pitched. It had to be-

“Bendy!” She called out. “Bendy???” That confirmed it, this HAD to be a dream. Where else would her dear dream buddy meet her? This was the only place he could be.

“Bells! Oh thank goodness you're still here!” The little cartoon demon was immediately swimming towards her and wrapping himself tightly around her. He was so shaky. She'd never seen him quite so…scared, before. It hadn't dawned on her where they were, in the void of darkness. It was dark, but there was nothing to fear here, they were safe. It was her dream, she was in control here.

“Bendy, I'm fine, I promise.” She laughed, pulling him close to her torso for a hug. There were tears in her eyes. “But I'm better now that you're here. You would not believe the night I've had-” 

“I know, I know. I'm so sorry, w-we had no control, I never meant for you to get wrapped up in this!” 

“It's not your fault!” She held him tighter. “It's just a nightmare. You're not responsible for my mind being mean to me.” 

“What?” He looked bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

“I just haven't gotten enough rest, my body's clearly telling me to take a break, and I haven't been listening. That's not on you, that's on me-” 

“Bella…” he held her by the shoulders, looking far too serious. It was always nerve wracking when a toon was serious. “This…this isn't a dream.” 

“See now you're doing it too.” She smirked. “Come on Bendy, this has to be a dream. I mean, NOTHING I've been through is the least bit logical, this is something only the imagination could bring to life. I just need to wake up -” 

“You can't! There's nothing to wake up from! You've been awake this whole time!” He yelled. 

“Come on, that sounds ridiculous!” 

“It IS ridiculous!” He held his hands in frustration. “That doesn't make it any less real! You're here, in the studio, in the cycle! And believe me, this is the last place I wanted you to be.”

“Nonsense!” She threw her hands up. She grinned, but it was clear she was sweating a little. “I mean this can't be real, the studio has been closed for years! And even if it were still here, it wouldn't look like, like THIS!” She gestured around them and laughed, her tone getting ever so slightly manic. “Joey can't just, MAKE a cartoon world! That sounds crazy! Do you have any idea, how crazy that sounds?!” 

“Of course I do!” Bendy whined. “I never wanted you to end up here with the others. I did everything I could to try and prevent this-” 

“And why would he stick me of all people here?!” She interrupted, clearly paying him no mind. “I'm supposed to be animating, I-I just need…I just need-i-I just….I need-I need-I need” She clutched at her chest and throat, struggling to get the words out. As though she were a record, stuck on repeat, breaking down from being used too frequently. No respect for the equipment. But in feeling her throat, she could feel the gash. It was fresh. It was…wet. She held her fingers up, they were trembling. “W-what-”

“BELLA!” The toon shouted. The girl snapped back into focus, looking him dead in the eyes, trembling a little. 

“He wouldn't…would he?” Her voice was so small, so shaken. 

“He would…You have no idea how much he would. How many times he has. ” Bendy stepped back from her, clenching his fists and rubbing away at his eyes, the ink dripping down his face. Like he was sweating it off. “You're right, this IS impossible, where you're from! But you're not there anymore. You're not…you're not in a place where people are made of flesh and blood. This is a world of paper, and ink. Lots and lots of ink. A place that shouldn't exist. ” Bendy grabbed her hands and squeezed them, dirtying his gloves in the process. “I'm sorry, I should've been more careful, I-I never wanted him to rope you into this, I swear! It was never supposed to go this far-”

He kept on rambling apologies. But at a certain point, it fell on deaf ears. Bella’s vision blurred as she looked out into the darkness. Out…into the ink. 

Believe in herself. Never lose sight of what matters most. Be wary of Joey. So many times, the demon had been in her dreams, trying to keep her on the right path. But she hadn't understood, how could she have? 

“-I couldn't tell you, I'd been forced to stay silent, the things he would've done to them if I hadn't, I couldn't-not again-” 

Shrill, higher, more manic. The poor toon was falling apart. The ink melted over him, twisting him, warping him. Bony limbs that crackled and popped into place. His ribs were showing. She didn't even know he had ribs.

“-You have no idea what he's done to us, he's a MONSTER-” 

His eyes were gone, his smile permanently etched in pain as a waterfall of ink dripped over his face. His hands, one remained as it was, but the other…a monstrous claw, with holes going through the palm. He was so tall and slender now, his leg looked like it had a permanent limp, like someone had broken it…much like…her…

Bella stumbled back, falling onto nothing, yet there was something as the splash of the puddles hit her in the face. She squeaked as she looked up at the creature in horror. “Bendy…” she could barely utter it. 

The demon paused in his ramblings, looking down at his hands before skittering backwards a step. 

“No, nononono- not now!” He held his head, falling onto his knees. He looked as though he might cry, the ink of his body pulsing and trembling. “I don't want to do this! Leave me ALONE!” 

“BENDY!” She screamed as she got up. Struggling to run with the ink that latched onto her, she somehow managed to wrap herself around him again. “I'm here! It's okay! I'm not gonna let anything happen to yo-”

Snkt!

“You should be more afraid…of what's going to happen to you. ”

That voice…she didn't know that voice. It was dark, and throaty. And…pained. 

The shock of it all had her adrenaline working overtime. In such a short instance…there were the creature's claws. Gone right through her chest. Her heart was pierced, clean through. But the red of blood did not greet her. There was only the black of the ink. And the amber…of the light in his hands. 

“You're in our world now. You belong to us. ” He hissed. The monster pulled his claws from her chest, leaving her to collapse to the ground, ink splashing everywhere as she ragdolled down. She looked up at him in horror, as he held the little ball of light closer to his face to inspect. His mouth didn't move as he spoke, but she could hear him far too clearly. Like he was speaking directly to her mind, reverberating in the darkness. “ Delicious . A fresh soul. Yes, you will do nicely.” 

“This…this isn't a dream.” That was all she could squeak out. The ink, it was crawling up her limbs. She couldn't move. She was paralyzed and bleeding out as it cocooned herself around her; she could barely keep her eyes open. 

He reached for her arm, taking her inky hand and pulling it close to his mouth. The golden markings etched themselves back into her skin, and he paused for a moment, looking at her sideways.

“So that's how it is. You're one of his.” He paused, as though to muse on it for a moment. “He's learned his lesson, I'm impressed.” The demon chortled. All she could see as the ink closed around her vision was his face, as he leaned over her. That smile, there was something so wrong with that smile. 

“No, my child. There are no dreams here. This…is a nightmare. But in the morning, you may wake.”

In the morning, you'll be dead.