Based off this comic:
“Sammy?” He’d heard that voice, her voice, and for a moment he was human again. He was sorting sheet music for that day’s cartoon. She’d caught him off guard, as she always seemed to. For a woman so loud, she moved remarkably quietly. He turned around and she was standing there, one hand on her hip, the other on her chest. His heart swelled at seeing her familiar visage and for a second, he forgot where he was, what had happened to him.
“I’m so glad-” But no, it wasn’t her. He closed his eyes and when he opened them that thing stood there. The creature that made a mockery of her image and her voice.
“That I found you.” It finished. It looked almost hopeful. What had it hoped to accomplish coming here? Using her voice to speak to him. It disgusted him. He harbored no fantasies that he could have saved Susie from the ink that had corrupted him so fully, but he liked to think he could have at least given her some companionship in this horror show that had become their lives. Instead she had succumbed and become this…this thing.
“H…How are you feeling?” It asked after a few minutes of him simply staring. He didn’t dignify it with a response. Not to that question. He could feel his anger building, threatening to spill over and explode.
“Silly question I guess…” It laughed nervously, twisting a strand of hair with its finger.
“…The tip of the tongue…” He began to mutter to himself.
“The lips, the teeth, the tip of the tongue.” He repeated.
“Um, I don’t-”
“THE TIP OF THE TONGUE, THE TEETH, THE LIPS!” He yelled, banging an inky fist on the table.
“Ah, uh, I-” Of course it didn’t understand. It used her speech, her mannerisms, her soul, but it was not her. It would never be her.
“You are not Susie Campbell.” He turned away from the wretched abomination, back to his plans, back to the safe and comforting presence of the one who would deliver him for his loyalty. But still the thing lingered, watching him with a nervousness that Susie had never possessed. The woman hadn’t had a nervous bone in her body.
“What was she like?” It asked, moving closer. He looked away, gritting his sharpened teeth to keep from screaming at her.
“……Loud.” He said. “Filling each room with her noise…Voice echoing into each corner. Melodious, laughing, energetic…” For a moment he felt like himself, not the creature he’d become. The memory of Susie was enough to make him feel content. He’d hated when she’d barge into his office, voice booming through the room, but he missed it now. She was the only person who he’d somewhat liked at this wretched studio. Then it was gone, swept away by the thing standing beside him. “And so, so weak.”
“What.” The thing seemed taken aback by this, as if it didn’t already know it was the reason Susie wasn’t there.
“All that drive, her will, her bravery, washed away with ink. Leaving this weak, paltry shade behind.” He gestured disdainfully to the thing. “Why do you come to me? Why do you taunt me with her voice, her failure…her broken promises?” The thing was balling its hands into fists now, looking frustrated with him. Good. He didn’t want it to like him. He didn’t want its pity, its half-hearted attempts at salvation. Only one person could bring him that.
“False angel…Did you think you could save me?” He continued. “After what you’ve done to her soul?”