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The Beast Made of Ink

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

Your name is Y/N L/N, the Grand-niece of Henry Stein. The year is 2019, and your father passed away from cancer a little over 10 years ago, while your mother died giving birth to you. You, being only nine at the time of his death, needed a new guardian, and with no other living family in the area, the state ending up sending you off to another state to live with your Great-Uncle (appropriately called Grunkle) Henry.

Henry was in his 90's. Your now dead grandfather whom died in the war would've been 120 this year, making them roughly 30 years apart, his brother being the oldest out of all his siblings while Henry was the youngest.


You were never a crybaby, you've always been the type to laugh it off or suck it up for as long as you could remember. You were a complete tomboy, preferring overalls and sneakers over dresses and flats any-day. You never whined, or begged and you always smiled, finding that frowning was the last thing you ever wanted to do, because in your opinion, you had already frowned way too much in your short lived life, right along with being scared. You were kind and sweet, always putting others before yourself, and never thinking of your own needs first. You always felt the most happiness when you made others smile, and to Henry, those were only some of the many reasons as to why he loved hanging out with you.

It had been a year since the death of your father, and with the time that you were apart from him, you had started to realize quite a few things.
Like the fact that the way your now deceased Dad would drink and hit you wasn't normal. Neither was how he'd lock you in a dark closet for days on end, only to let you out before you starved to death.

He wasn't a kind man, and comparing your father to the kind and sweet Henry, who has few words but much heart, has helped you realize that what your father would do to you was wrong.


Time had passed, and in the past 10 years, you and Henry have grown to become quite close. With the new closeness between the two of you, you had also ended up telling Henry of your abuse. Saying he was ashamed of your father is putting it lightly, as the yearly visits to his grave on the day he died became the yearly event where the two of you would sneak tubs of ice cream into a cartoon movie at the theater, hiding the tubs in an oxygen tank case, using your Grunkle's old age as an excuse.


But unfortunately, it seems that all good things must come to an end. Last year, the day after your 18th birthday, Henry had died, leaving you alone.
Henry never had any children, his love for his cartoons that he had created being the largest joy in his life, right along with raising you. Due to these two things, Henry had decided to leave all his assets to you, his will telling you to sell his house for the money so you can go to college along with letting you keep anything of importance made you move to tears multiple times in the months since his passing. He also left you a key to his storage, saying the same thing of "Whatever you wish to keep, please do".


Henry was your rock, and ever since his passing, a lot of things that have saddened you over the years had started to come back to you. After a month long major depressive episode 6 months ago, you had realized that you need to get your life back on track, and that you cannot let the past control you. You can allow your past to influence you and your decisions, but that doesn't mean that you can let it control you, and that includes the life that you had with Henry, along with his death.

Because of your sadness and recovery, you haven't been able to look through any of his belongings that he has in storage to decide what you will be keeping and getting rid of. Now though, a year and three months after his death, you have arrived at the storage facility where the rest of his things are being stored in.




Standing in front of the large garage like building, you could feel sweat begin to glisten down your forehead as a cluster-fuck of irrational worries began seeping their way into your mind. You thought of the empty Xanax bottle that you had in your right pocket, mentally slapping yourself for deciding to go to the storage facility first instead of filling your prescription.
Shaking your head back and forth, you concentrated back on to the object at hand, or rather, the object in your hand(heh). There, in your right palm, was an old fashioned rusty key, glistening in sweat from your tight hold that you had on it, your own hand now colored from the rust.

You knew why you were anxious, why you were so hesitant to enter. It's because the storage facility is the last undiscovered piece of Henry, the last thing that you don't know about him. Yeah, you know there were a lot of things that Henry didn't tell you, just like you had never gotten the chance to tell Henry that you were in fact an [insert your romantic orientation] asexual who prefers queer-platonic relationships due to your fear or romance (A/N: This will be for the plot later on). You guys both had your secrets, and you both tried to respect each other's space.

However, sometimes when the two of you would become overly curious about something, you'd ask each other, and in response, the both of you would always answer truthfully, and full-heartedly.

However, Henry isn't here anymore. You can't ask him questions about himself anymore. You can't find out anything new about him anymore. At least, you won't be able to find anything else new about him after this. That's why you were so scared.
Henry was old when he died. None of his friends were alive anymore so it's not like you could call them up and ask them for stories about your Grunkle. Knowing these things scares you.

You were scared.


From your realization to the fact that you are indeed scared, you could feel your jaw clench together in annoyance, the grip on the key returning back full force.


You hated being scared, you were sick of being scared.


And with Henry, that sweet ol' dusty fart, being scared is the last thing you ever wanna feel when it involves him.

With your resolve strengthened, you walked right up to the storage shed, sun blazing down your form as you inserted the key into the ancient lock, and after some struggle, the thing opened. With a deep inhale, you removed the lock, your eyes glancing over at the chipping yellow walling and equally as chipped metal garage door.
With a long exhale, you slid the lock and key into your other pocket, and with shaky hands, you pulled the door up, revealing the buildings insides, and what you saw shocked you.
You were expecting to see a clutter and junk filled room, but this is definitely not what you were expecting.


Growing up with Henry and his love of cartoons, Henry more than not would show you his old comics that were published way back in the day. You enjoyed every bit of them, despite their old age, and you can still find yourself reaching for one of the old books on rainy days. Over the years, one particular character had become your all time favorite, but right now, you weren't very sure just how far your love for that cartoon could extend.


Inches away from your face, staring right into your very soul, and smack dab in front of you was a life sized cartoon cutout of Bendy the Dancing Demon.
Your entire body jolted in surprise at the sight, and you almost had half a mind to slam that door back down and get the fuck outta there, but you couldn't do that. Not to Henry.


With a shaky inhale, you lifted the cartoon character and turned him the other direction because like hell were you gonna let a life sized cutout stare at you as you walked around. You may not get scared easily, in fact, your the type of person who only jolts at most at haunted houses, however, that's because you know all that stuff is fake. Now, if those haunted houses were real, then you'd may actually scream. You're not a scaredy cat, but you are sure as hell superstitious, especially of that damn cut-out.
Beyond the (creepy) cartoon, the room was nearly empty! It was as if someone had emptied the entire thing out! The only thing in the room which was hidden right behind the cut-out was an old, dusty crate, and on the crate, there were two envelopes.

Approaching the crate, you found that one of the envelopes looked like it had been opened long ago, the only thing holding it shut being a small piece of masking tape. It was old, yellowed and just as dusty as the crate, while the other envelope was crisp, white, and brand spanking new (at least compared to the other one it was). With a gulp, you reached your hand out towards the newer envelope, and with yet another gulp, you opened it, then carefully began to read the contents inside of it.



If you are reading this, then it must mean that I have passed on. At the time of which I wrote this letter, you had just turned 15, shortly after the incident that had happened. Ever since that happened, I have felt extremely guilty.

I am sorry that I wasn't there for you like I should've been, I just figured that every teenager has a stage where they wish to explore the great world and test the waters. Out of all the possibilities, I never would've thought that that would happen.

However, this isn't the reason as to why I am writing this letter. As it stands, I had myself just turned 87 years old, and I just had my yearly physical. I scheduled a C.T. scan since I have a history of brain cancer in my family, and they found it. A pea sized tumor. They said I have a year left to live.

The news broke my heart, right along with the knowledge that you may end up having to be sent to a foster home. So if you did end up having to go to a foster home, then I am oh so terribly sorry my dear. I never wished that fate on you. However, if you didn't, then that means that Death can come and kiss my ass.

Y/N. I had always thought of my legacy being my cartoons. I had always dreamed of being a cartoonist, and found that having a family just didn't seem to matter to me. However, everything changed when you came into my life, because I had ended up finding myself raising one of the most beautiful souls that I have ever seen.
I found myself forgetting of my cartoons, and started focusing solely on you and your happiness. In the seven years that I have known you Y/N, I had found out that my cartoons could never be my legacy, because you had become my legacy and my life's purpose the minute my old eyes landed on yours.

In all honesty, you are the greatest friend and niece that anyone could've ever asked for. You were the family that I had never wanted, but always needed.

Never forget that love is eternal, and that even when I am gone, I will still be beside you, guiding you, and helping you along the way on your path called life. Remember, whichever direction that you decide to take, I will always be right along beside you to cheer you on.

I love ya kiddo.


~Grunkle Henry



"I love ya more Grunkie" You whispered under your breath, grateful that he fought for as long as he did for your sake.

To say you were crying would be an understatement. You were straight out bawling. Once you finished the letter, you could feel your knees give out on you as you toppled onto the ground, tears streaming down your face as you bawled for a good 20 minutes. That letter had everything that you needed to hear and more. You knew that a part of you had left when you lost Henry, a part of you're purpose and happiness. But just by reading that letter, you felt as if whatever you had lost was given back to you.

Drying your eyes and catching your breath, you carefully tucked the letter back into the envelope, sliding it into the pocket which had the bottle of Xanax in it. Standing yourself back up, you saw that there was still the other envelope on the table. Even more careful than you were prior, you reached out to grab the letter, and with trembling hands as a result of holding your tears back, you opened it, reading the contents in your head once again.


Dear Henry.
It seems like a lifetime since we worked on cartoons together. 30 years really slips away. Doesn't it?
If you're back in town, come visit the old workshop.
There's something I need to show you.
Your Best Pal, Joey Drew.


Your. Heart. Stopped.

Could one of Henry's old friends still be alive?

You thought to yourself with a gulp.

The idea of one of your Grunkles old friends being alive was exhilarating to say the least, but before you allowed yourself to get carried away, you had to rationalize with yourself first.

The envelope looked ancient, and you were the only one who attended your Grunkles funeral. What're the chances that he's still alive?
You thought for a moment, and in all honesty, the chances were slim. Just a slim as never learning more about your Grunkle.


With a small chuckle at yourself for making such an irrational decision, you turned your body around, eyes closed with laughter.
"Guess i'll be visiting his old studio, eh?"

You muttered affectionately. Then, when you opened your eyes, you screamed.


Bendy was standing right in front of you.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

You stared into the cutouts inky black eyes, heart racing from the after shock. In all honesty, you weren't sure how you were supposed to feel. Scared? Startled? Pissed at whoever the fuck placed this thing in front of you?

Already too emotionally drained from Henry's letter, you just shook your head back and forth as you walked past the damn thing, shutting and locking the storage facility with a grunt.

"I'm too sober for this shit." You irritably joked with yourself as you walked over to your vehicle, hopping back into the already running machine. Quickly buckling your seat-belt, you then headed off back to your studio apartment, the entire drive with your thoughts focused around that second letter, and the one question that has yet to be answered.


Who’s Joey Drew?




30 minutes later, and you had arrived back at your studio apartment. You lived in the somewhat ghetto area, as your $600 dollar a month paycheck from the bookstore that you work at part time along with your inking-comics job that pays you $100 dollars each month can only allow you to afford this crap dump. However, as crappy as your apartment may be, you were proud to call it your own.


Despite the money that Henry had given you for college, you have yet to start attending. With all the mental health issues that you have suffered from his death, you decided to not start college right away and instead find a job or two along with a place to live till you were more stable. Labor is easier than studying, in your eyes at least.


Hopping out of your vehicle, you press the lock button on your keys, a satisfying beep being heard from behind as you made your way into the building, down the hall, and to your apartment.


“You fucking slut!”


“Shut up you piece of trash!”


“Welp… Looks like the neighbors are fighting again.” You thought to yourself with a sigh as you unlocked your door, revealing your apartment.


Everything in your apartment was located in one room, the only other room being the bathroom. To the right of the door against the wall is your stove, fridge, and two cabinets along with counters. A microwave sat on the counter farthest from the other appliances.
To the left across from your cooking area was a small glass table that had two chairs between it and a vase of your favorite flowers placed inside.
Midway into your apartment you have your living room, complete with your worn down love-seat (which is practically your only relationship at this point), along with your 40 inch flat screen TV.
The back of the room becomes wider, as that is where your bed is placed at, along with your dresser than houses all your clothes and a mirror.
The bathroom is to the left of your bed, and a window faces out to the city in the very back of the room.

Despite the crappy neighborhood, your apartment is quite nice. You had replaced all the appliances with new ones, installed a washer and dryer in the bathroom, and furthermore, your walls and bed were adjourned in your favorite colors! You really really did like your place, and luckily, the noise from the neighbors is always blocked out thanks to the insulated walls. The only time you have to hear them is when you come home. Makes you wonder how much time during their day that they argue. Maybe they wait for your return?

Plopping down your keys onto your counter right along with the contents from your pockets, you found a groan escaping your lips as your eyes landed on the still empty Xanax bottle.

“Fucking bitch…” You muttered under your breath, dead set on getting your prescription tomorrow. You always forget to refill, that’s why you have started carrying the bottle on you. However, it looks like at this point it just doesn't matter, as knowing yourself, you will forget to get a refill tomorrow yet again.

With a sigh and a run of your fingers through you're H/C locks, you made your way over to the couch, plopping down as you reached behind the cushions for a bag of your favorite chips along with your computer.

Turning your screen on, you decided to do some research.


“Let's see… Joey… Drew!”

You spoke to yourself as you typed up your search, hitting the enter key a moment later. After a few seconds, the answers to the name had generated, and the first thing that your eyes landed on was an old short article. Clicking on it, you had begun to read its contents.



On May 3rd 1962, Joey Drew Studio’s closed down due to an ink overflow, thus causing a freak accident that made the studio owner, Joey Drew, a paraplegic. This, along with the fact that many employees had recently quit due to the cut in pay since the proud owner of Bendy the Dancin’ Demon refuses to change to color animations, the business had decided to shut down for good. However, just because their business shut down doesn't mean that the events of the inky studio can be forgotten! Music director Sammy Lawrence went missing during these events, and still has yet to be found. If you have any sighting of Sammy Lawrence, please contact (XXX) XXX-XXXX.



“Joey wanted Grunkle Henry to meet him there?” You couldn't help but think to yourself. “Even after an employee went missing, and the place was flooded with ink, he still decided for the studio to be the meet up spot? Especially considering that this Joey man became a paraplegic at that exact site! Why in the heck would he wish to return and meet Henry up there?”


At this point, the whole situation is looking a lot less like a situation of finding out more about your Grunkle, and more of a situation about finding the true mystery behind the old animation studio.


After looking up the studio’s address, you found that the place is still in fact intact and it has been completely abandoned. Apparently the city down from yours owns it, as nobody wishes to buy an ink soaked wooden shack. Wonder why.

Determined for answers now not only for your Grunkle, but the studio itself, you have decided that you were going to head to the studio tomorrow.
That night, before heading to bed, you quickly packed a bag with two bottles of water, a six pack of granola bars, your pepper spray that you usually keep in your purse, as well as a pocket knife and a flashlight. Once fully set and prepared to head out first thing tomorrow morning, you slid underneath your covers and fell asleep.



They say that curiosity killed the cat, but like hell were you gonna let it kill you.

Chapter Text

-Henry’s P.O.V.-

It was back in 1944 when I started working at Joey Drew studios at 16 years old. Back then I was a simple errand boy. However, that position all changed back in 1950 when I was promoted to become a cartoonist/animator, and oh boy it was a time to be alive. We would draw and draw for hours on end the same characters and their everyday lives! To most, this probably sounds gruesome and boring, but for me, it was therapeutic. Not to mention I just love art and drawing in and of itself.

However, the love in which I have for art has started to go down, ever since the 1960’s hit that is. You see, my once friendly boss Joey Drew started acting like he was possessed by the devil himself, and Sammy Lawrence wasn't that much better off. When colored television was released, the black and white cartoon series Bendy the Dancing Demon refused to change its style.


Joey was so stubborn, screaming to the entire staff whenever anybody mentioned the loss of popularity in our cartoon that, “We don't need those damn colors! All we need is ink ink ink!”

And it certainly didn’t help that Sammy had started scribbling pentagrams instead of musical notes on his sheet music.


Those two ended up becoming the workplace’s own personal psychos, and it was no wonder why.


They had both become devil worshipers.



When this was revealed, many of the people had decided to leave the studio, I being one of the few left behind. However, I was forced to leave not long after, all thanks to a certain devil darlin’.


The year was 1962, and it was a normal day just like any other, when suddenly, everything just stopped.

A screeching metallic sound filled the halls as blood had begun to dribble out of my ears. The building rattled and the lights flickered, as the screeching noises soon began to mix with wails of agony, their screams loud and pained enough to make me, a grown man, cry. Panicking, I got out of my chair and crawled underneath my desk thinking it was an earthquake, my hands covering my ears as tears and blood streamed their way down my head.

Then, just as it all had started, it had stopped.

Cautiously, I crawled out from underneath my desk, the blood in my body going a million miles an hour due to the fear coursing through my veins. I was barely given a chance to look around as the then flickering lights all just went out, leaving me in pitch black.

Well, nearly pitch black.

Way down the hall, past my desk and the entryway to the studio, down the hall even further and across from the break-room, there stood a lone light flickering.

My steps were first cautious ones, but then remembering that Sammy and Joey were still here and that they could have gotten hurt, my cautious steps turned into a running frenzy as I raced down to the lit room, and once I got there, a new noise had decided to fill my ears.


It was chanting. But for what?


I couldn't understand what they were saying. I’ve never heard such gibberish like words escape from anyone's mouth until today! But from the way that whoever the people were spoke them, the way each syllable came out in such confidence and unison, I knew that they knew what they were doing.

Following the noise through the dark room, I soon found myself in another room, the room across from the ink machines on/off switch, and there, underneath some burst pipe, ink flowing from the ceiling, was a corpse. Its chest is cut open, revealing each of its ribs, and surrounding the hanging corpse was none other than Joey Drew and Sammy Lawrence themselves. They were chanting away as the candles they had placed out flickered between their pentagram that was drawn around the door deceased soul.

My eyes shooting back to the corpse, I couldn't help the scream in which escaped my lips. The corpse. That poor corpse… I don't know how, and I don't know why, but somehow, the little devil darlin’s dear old pal Boris… He was alive once upon a time, he had a body.


From my loud scream that escaped my lips, both Joey and Sammy had ceased their chanting, wide eyes meeting my own.

“Henry?!” Both Sammy and Joey yelled in surprise.

“W-what is…” I started, unsure on how to word my shock, however, all words that I had begun to formulate left my mouth instantly as a satanic voice had spoken right behind me.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't good ol’ Henry.”

Swallowing my dry mouth, I began to turn around, and immediately, I regretted it.


There, an inch away from touching me stood a tall ink monster, eight feet tall minimum. Its body looked like a skeleton was drenched in ink, its foot and hands distorted, the left of his body being that of a cartoon foot and hand while the right was that of a humans.

His body gave me shivers, but his face… His face made me wanna be held in my Momma’s arms again.

An eerily long smile fitted with crooked teeth sat in-between non-existent lips. His face, just like his body, was completely drenched in ink, the black substance dripping over his eyes as nothing but his smile peered back at me. I think the scariest part out of all of this though was the fact that he looked just like Bendy. Well, Bendy after 24 hours of radiation exposure.


“So nice of you to drop in buddy!”


“B-bendy?” I managed to stumble out, however, he completely ignored me as he walked right past me and up to Boris, reaching his cartoon hand out to pat his friend on the snout.


“Ya see Henry, any other time, I would've been happy to see ya around. Unfortunately, this isn't the best of times with the summoning of Boris and all.”


My eyes shot out of my head at his statement, making Bendy sigh as his face shot over at Joey and Sammy.


Resume the ritual”

He commanded, however, just like me, the both of them stood there.


Bendy became irritated.

"I said resume the ritual!”


“We… Can't” Joey finally managed to stumble out. By this response, a puddle of… ink? had begun to form underneath Bendy’s feet.


“Why the hell not?” He growled out, his perma-grin now changed into a just as wide and toothy frown.

“We can't because the ritual was interrupted. I'm afraid to say that Boris’s souls will be lost in limbo… Forever”


“WHAT!?” He screeched, his fists balled and his form shaking.


From Bendy’s negative response, Sammy got down onto the ground and began to ramble, both of his hands pressed together in a… Prayer? I couldn't catch all of what he was saying due to the speed in which he was mumbling, but I did manage to catch some of it.

“... Humble offering… your sheep… … my lord… repentance… ”


Sammy just continued to ramble his crazy satanic shit, and looking over at him, I see his eyes rolled back in his head as he spoke. Sammy’s actions just seemed to piss Bendy off even more, as his shaking form ceased, and his hand reached out for Sammy’s throat, snapping his neck right then and there.

“HOLY FUCK!” I screeched as Bendy just dropped Sammy back onto the ground like a pile of trash.



Bendy said as he then teleported over to Joey, smile stretched across his face yet again. Bendy picked him up by the collar of his shirt, and he body slammed Joey right onto the dresser, a sickening crack coming from Joey’s body echoing the room.




Bendy cackled an ear piercing cackle, making me remember the state my ears were in as I could feel them pulsate. Then, all at once, his laughing ceased. The candles started flickering as his face shot over to look at me.


“And this… Dear old buddy Henry Stein… This is for killing Boris.”


And with that final sentence, the entire building began to shake yet again. Screeching echoed the room forcing me to cover my overly sensitive ears as right before my eyes, Bendy transformed into something else entirely, this creature much more horrifying than the last.


My stomach dropping as my intestines coiled, the beast called Bendy began his chase.



And from there is where my memories become foggy. The next thing that I knew, I was waking up in an old hospital room. I was told that I was found in a coma, and that I had received ink poisoning and had been treated for it. I found it interesting when they told me that Joey, who was also in the accident alongside me, refused to get treatment for his own ink poisoning.
They asked me to try and convince Joey, and when I went into his hospital room and asked for him to consider treatment, the man just laughed maniacally, only telling me on thing.




“I’m so close, yet so far. Why stop now?”

Chapter Text

-Henry’s P.O.V-

Through the therapy provided by the hospital, I was able to convince myself that all the events which had occurred with Bendy was just a dream.

After my recovery, I had decided to join the military. Once my training was done, I was sent to serve in the Vietnam war. I had fought in the war all the way to the end of it, and when I was finally discharged, I had completely forgotten about the entire incident with Bendy.


With all of the money that I had made from fighting (None of it being able to be sent to family), I decided to buy a house. It wasn't cheap, but it was sure as hell worth it. I bought my first home in the countryside in 1975 at the ripe age of 47.


My sister, who was the middle child, had died in 1982 with no children, while my brother had gotten Alzheimer's.

In 1986, my brother, at the age of 88, had passed away, leaving his 15 year old daughter and 55 year old wife behind.


That year I had started drinking.


In 1989, my niece convinced me to go to rehab for my alcoholism.

In 1991, I was released from rehab.


In 1992 I had received a letter from Joey Drew, and he asked my to come down and visit the studio. I figured that it had been a long time since I last saw my old friend, so at the age of 64, I went to the old studio, and from there, I immediately regretted it.
Bendy was alive, and he desired vengeance. Bendy wasn’t the only one who was alive either, some of my old co-workers were as well, except, something wasn't right with them. Something wasn't right with that entire building.
Everything was ink ink ink. The cartoons were ink, the demons were ink, the dead people were ink! Ink was everywhere. I had to sit in it, crawl in it, and breathe in it. It was a miracle that I made it out alive. If it weren’t for Boris and Allison along with that Bacon Soup, I surely would have perished.


After all the events that had occurred in the old studio, I had decided to start up my cartoon making again. I ended up getting a job for the local newspaper and there I made little comic shorts. I had dug out my old comics from back in the days of Joey Drew, and I found myself loving Boris, Alice, and even Bendy yet again. I felt like I owed it to the little Devil Darlin’.


Once again, being a cartoonist had become my passion, and in 1996, my niece M/N Stein got married to F/N L/N, a kind businessman. In the year 2000, my niece had died at the age of 28 years old while giving birth due to hypertension, and in 2003, my sister in Law died from old age.

F/N cut all ties with me after his wife's death and moved out of state. I had continued my cartoon making and hadn't heard from him or his daughter until 2009.
Instead of F/N calling me however, I had instead received a call from social services, asking me if I was willing to take care of Y/N L/N. When I asked for the reasons why, they told me that F/N L/N died from cancer.

I told them that I didn't mind taking care of her. Despite my old age, I was in a very healthy condition and still lived by myself. According to the social worker, she thought it would be best for Y/N to live with another family member, and although I never necessarily wanted a family, I could understand the social workers concerns.


So, in the year 2009, me at the age of 81 while Y/N was at the age of 9, I had started raising a child. I still remember meeting Y/N for the first time, her large E/C eyes stared back into my clouded own, her short bob of H/C swaying left and right as she examined me. She was so young and bright compared to me, however, she still carried this own sense of dullness within her.

A month after her arrival, I had completely fallen in love with the sweet girl. She was like the daughter I never had, and I completely adored her. I had decided to retire so I could put all my effort into raising her. Time passed, and I had noticed that she had begun to smile more. In 2010, Y/N told me of how her Father had abused her back when he was alive. We had both decided it best to cease all mentions of the bastard, and I even decided to create our own little holiday on the anniversary of his death! I called it Ice-cream Movie Day.

Me and Y/N were close. Even in her teenage years, Y/N had told me everything that went on in her mind.


When Y/N was 14 years old, she had gotten her first boyfriend, a 17 year old boy that went by the name of Thomas Grant. There was indeed a large age difference, but my family had a history of large age differences in relationships, and they were both in high school so I didn't see the problem. I knew Y/N wouldn't do anything sexual with him, she even told me herself that she had never found herself interested in intimacy, just like me.

One night, her and her boyfriend went out to the movies, and she was due back at midnight. However, as the clock read 12:30, and with no contact from Y/N about running behind, I knew that something was wrong. A familiar scream heard from outside my house confirmed just that. Glancing out the window, what I saw made my blood boil.
Parked in front of my house was her boyfriends expensive little sports car, and inside of it was Y/N, tears streaming down her face as she was completely shirtless. He was touching her bare chest while making out with her! I could see Y/N attempting to shove him away, but he didn't back off.


Before anything else could happen, I grabbed my crow bar from the closet and went outside to his pretty little car.


Welp, it wasn't so pretty anymore. The military made me strong, despite my old age, and like any sensible gentleman, I rammed the crowbar right into his hood, making his horns go off and both of their eyes shoot up.




From the noise of me wrecking his million dollar piece of shit, neighbors opened their doors and came out, all of them staring wide eyed as I continued to smash his car in. They eventually had to pull me away from his vehicle as one of them called the police about me wrecking the car. However, when the said neighbor saw my shirtless niece step out of the car, tears streaming down her face as she came up to hug me, the neighbors complaint about car wrecking immediately became a complaint about possible rape.


I never had to pay for the car, and thanks to all the witnesses, me and Thomas’s family lawyer had decided to settle on a deal. Five years in prison, no chance of parole. If you ask me, that serving time is shit compared to what he did to Y/N.

Luckily, although the event indeed scar Y/N, it didn't change who she was. Me and her were both believers in the fact that time and support from one another is the best remedy for mental pain, and it did just as good as any therapy. We were both wise, and were both good at talking to each other about our feelings, counseling one another from our worries. Y/N didn't keep anything from me, and even if she didn't always tell me things right away, she would always eventually tell me her worries.


It was right after Y/N and I’s birthday when I scheduled a C.T. scan for myself. My sister and father died from brain cancer. I figured that if I were to have cancer, then it would be of the brain.

To my horror, I did have cancer, and according to my doctors, the cancer type that I had meant that the growth was rapid. I had a year at most.


After the doctors visit, I drove to the post office and purchased some paper and envelopes. In my car, I quickly wrote up my letter, telling Y/N the things that I have always wished to tell her, but just was never sure how to. I then drove to my old storage unit which was all but abandoned, with literally nothing inside of it, and dug out the old key from my junk filled glove compartment.


Unlocking the door, I opened it which elicited a scream due to the Bendy cut-out staring right back into my eyes.

“I never put one of these in here… I'm absolutely sure of it…” I thought to myself in my head.

Cautiously lifting the Bendy cut out up and out of the way, underneath the card-board, I saw a small ink puddle.


My heart dropped at remembering how Bendy was able to travel through ink.


I looked up at the cut-out, meeting the things pie-cut eyes.


“You're back…” I muttered to myself breathlessly.


And I knew that if Bendy were back, then that means that Allison and maybe even others must be in danger. What scared me most is that I knew that the cutout could’ve been here for ages, meaning that Allison could be long dead.


I oh so badly wanted to run out of the building and down to the old studio, but I was sick… What could I do?


Guilt immediately flooded my gut at the idea that I just had.


Y/N was the only one I could ever trust to do something like this.


Going back to my glove apartment, I dug out an much older envelope. Inside it was the letter that had started it all. Grabbing an old crate from behind the building, I drug the thing in and turned it upright. I placed both envelopes on it, and walked out of the storage room, locking the door behind me to never open it again.
Then, from sheer will alone, I had managed to live not one, but three more years.


In 2018, the day after Y/N turned 18, I died from brain cancer.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

Standing in front of the seemingly never ending greenery, your arms had crossed their way over your chest as you stared into the woods, grateful that you decided to wear your thin and loose F/C penguin printed pajama pants so that no bugs could bite you.

Well, at least you could be grateful about one thing, because guess the fuck what!?


You forgot your refill again.


Growling angrily at yourself for being such a forgetful person (When it comes to your medication at least), you began your walk through the ever green forest.



It was 10:30 when you had finally arrived at the old studio. Or rather, you finally arrived at the supposed entrance to the old studio. Imagine your surprise that once you got there, all you saw was woods. Your heart almost stopped as you began to assume the worst, like the old studio was torn down and replaced with some walking trail or national park.

You freaked, and you could feel as a small anxiety attack had started(Thus your anger for forgetting to get your damn refill). Thankfully though, before it got bad, you were able to quell it. After, you had decided to drive into town and get some answers about the place.

When asked about the studio, most people didn't know what the hell you were talking about. Thankfully though, a very elderly woman happened to overhear one of your conversations and was able to give you directions.
Apparently her husband, a man named Wally Franks, used to work there and she had stopped by more than a few times in the past to visit him during his work hours. According to her, he died over 10 years ago. You and her ended up talking for a good 30 minutes. After the conversations and shared sympathy ended, she gave you written directions so you could find your way through the forest to the old studio.



Which brings you to now, as you continued to navigate your way through the thick brush, the bright sun peering past the leaves and down-casting patterns onto your figure. Despite nearing mid-July, the weather was quite nice, to your relief, since you wouldn't be able to handle the heat otherwise with the pants you have on. You were even more shocked to find that there were barely any bugs out. The entrance was full of them! Usually you'd expect an uninhabited forest like this to be full of bugs and animals the deeper you got, but not this one.


When you took notice of the lack of life, you could feel yourself grow nervous. You didn't notice it until now, but this forest was unnaturally quiet. As in there was no noise of a bird singing, or a squirrel rustling. Not even the familiar buzz of mosquitoes or the chirp of a cicada could be heard. The only noises being made was the occasional rustle of leaves and your own footsteps.

It was strange. To find yourself being so nervous in the heart of nature.

Growing up in the countryside with Henry, you had become accustomed to having nature around yourself at all times. Once moving to the big city after his death changed everything. You were never a country girl, but you sure as heck did love nature. Hell, your computer back screen was of the woods which was near your old home. If anything, you were a forest girl. You still have fond memories of you and Henry walking through those woods, chatting and goofing away the entire walk. It saddened you to think that you wouldn't have any more days like that with him…

Quickly, you shook your head back and forth, getting the grief out of your mind. Today wasn't the day to be sad, today was the day to be excited. After all, you were visiting Henry’s old workplace! You weren't sure what you were expecting to find, but you didn't care. As long as you found something out about your Grunkle, in your eyes, that's all that mattered. Well, that and possibly figuring out the mystery of that old studio.

What can you say? You're a naturally curious person.

By your mind alone, you could feel your previous unease about the quiet melt away as you now found a skip in your step.


It wasn't much later when you found yourself in front of the studio.

The building was, to your shock, quite a decent size. Weathered wood built up the thing as you could note the occasional gaps in the walling from sheer age alone. The wood color was a dull deep amber, and considering the age of the place, it was holding up quite nicely. You were impressed with the one story building in front of you, however, you could soon feel yourself grow more unease as you took note of how the building was separated from the greenery.


You'd think that a building that's been in the woods for so long would have vines on and around it, or weeds on the lawn. Some sort of growth, right? But this… This is definitely not what you were expecting.


The only thing in a 20 foot radius of the studio was mud. No grass, nothing. Just mud, and a little bit of gravel here and there. It unsettled you to say the least. It was like nothing wanted to touch the building. Like the entire thing was void of life in and or itself.

It almost made you wish you were scared, however, it did just the opposite. More than anything, it left you more curious than you were prior.

Your determination faltered slightly when you felt as if a pair of eyes were on you, but were quick to dismiss it as paranoia. With a sigh and a final adjustment of your bag, you walked up to the studio.


-??? P.O.V.-

He could feel his already toothy grin become wider at the sight of the stupid human attempting to strengthen themselves.

He always found humans to be such funny creatures. How easy it could be to break them, and how that once there broken, they can never be fixed again.


“Like i'm the one to talk” He thought with a snort to himself as he continued to stare at what he assumed to be a human girl through one of the many gaps in the wall. He had lifted the ink off of his eyes so he could be able to see her, and in all honesty, he wasn't disappointed at the sight.


She was quite the looker. It was too bad that she didn't do more with her natural beauty. Then again, he has become quite sick of the types like Alice Angel, who literally only care about appearance and just end up putting way too much effort forward for something so surface level.

Its so interesting how humans can come in such variety, don't you agree?

Then again, no matter how diverse they may be, they always end up dying in the same way, same manner, same pleas.


The little Devil Darlin’ could feel a laugh bubble it's way into his throat, releasing it a moment later. He could see how the girls brave expression faltered ever so slightly as she glanced around for a moment, only to look determined yet again a moment later. Maybe she heard him laugh? Eh, it didn't matter.


She’ll get used to his sadism soon enough.

His already unnatural grin became wider as he walked away from his peeping spot to begin his preparations.


Bendy could tell that this time, he was gonna have fun.




-Your P.O.V-

To your shock, the door opened with ease. You'd think a place as run down as this would at least have some squeaky hinges, but that was not the case. Entering the studio and taking a few steps forward, you could hear the door slam shut behind you, making you dart your head back in surprise.

You shook it off, figuring it was probably the wind or something, and as you went to take another step forward, you found your foot hanging over nothing but air.

Shooting your eyes down at the ground, you made eye contact with a gaping hole, the bottom of it filled to the brim with ink.


“Suddenly I don't think the whole ink poisoning thing making the studio close down is that crazy anymore” You thought with a gulp as you yanked your foot back in, and with some effort, you were able to maneuver around the hole, silently praying in your head that this would be the only un-sturdy spot of flooring because you will indefinitely be pissing your pants if the floor gives out on you and you end up falling through a hole like that.


After your maneuver, you had entered a large open room. Inside of it was a table placed between a pole, a large sign that said Joey Drew Studios, and there were two hallways going either direction. In the top left corner of the room was a running projector, and beside the blank lit up chunk of fabric was a large cut-out of Bendy staring right at you.


You weren't sure how to feel about the large cut-out, so you decided to just feel indifference. You weren't sure if you could classify this building as scary. Run down and somewhat creepy sure, but you weren't necessarily feeling any sort of fear at the moment.

With a sigh, you decided to just leave the projector on, and after some compilation, you decided to go down the hallway to the right of you. Imagine your shock when you came face to face to thoroughly ink soaked wooden flooring. It reeked of the substance, and it seemed like all the floors needed replacing, in your opinion at least. The sight made you a bit anxious about falling through, but you decided to disregard that fear as you continued to walk through.

Turning to your right, you came face to face with large words written quite neatly (Considering the size and consistency of the substance) that read in all caps, “DREAMS COME TRUE”.

You just shook your head in disappointment at the teenagers who decided to vandalize the old building, and decided to continue your walk, completely dismissing the writing.
However, a tune coming from behind a door stopped you. What made it even more interesting was that there was light streaming from underneath it.

You liked the tune. It was a gentler yet slightly upbeat song. You weren't sure why music would be running nor were you sure why a light would be on in an abandoned building, but you decided to disregard the slight shiver that threatened to crawl up your back by the strangeness of this unopened room. You attempted to turn the doorknob, figuring that it may be some kid that broke in or maybe even that Joey guy. After all, your generation is full of assholes that disregard the beauty of old buildings. You wouldn't be shocked if the same kid that vandalized the walling with the dreams come true shit decided to leave a light on.

However, as you twisted the knob, the door didn't open. It was locked.


For some reason, the fact that the door was locked had creeped you out. You’d much rather see what's inside the room, because as it stands, you have no way of knowing if someone is in there or not.


“Maybe somebody just left the music and light on by mistake.” You attempted to reason with yourself even further as you continued to walk past the door.

Once again, you came to the end of the hallway. Above you read a sign that said Ink Machine, and at the very back of the wall hung an old white board. You decided to read the writing on it, figuring that it may had important information.



Joey Drew Studios
Ink Output Schedule


19 Gal
13 Gal
18 Gal

18 Gal
9 Gal
24 Gal






14 Gal
1 Gal


7 Gal
103 Gal



When you reached Saturday’s output, you could feel your eyes shoot out of your head as millions of questions begin to flow through your mind. In one day, they managed to produce 416 gallons of ink!? Just a couple days before then, they used more ink than produced. What happened in that single week to cause such a mass production!?

This left you more curious than anything else. Turning your head towards what you assumed to be the walkway to the ink machine, you were in front of a large pipe that obstructed your path. Jumping over it, you turned your head over and came face to face with easily the largest machine you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

Your jaw dropped at the sight.

Chapter Text

-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


He found it interesting to say the least. Compared to the others that have come in to the old studio, this gal seemed to be not only calmer than others, but more observant.

Unknown to the girl, Bendy stood across the hall from the one that she stood in. He watched in silence in his demon form as she examined the ink output schedule.

So far, her actions and reactions were strange to the ink demon.


When she almost fell down the gaping hole in the flooring at the entrance, she didn't even scream. Despite the whirring of the projector, she didn't spare the thing a second glance. Hell, even Bendy found that things placement to be somewhat creepy, and he’s the one who placed it! When she saw the wall that was written in ink, she only looked disappointed, and when she came up to the door with the music, she only looked startled for a second! A second! Then the bitch just kept walking!

Even the men that have visited this place have had more reactions than her, but she just seems so nonchalant about the entire thing!

If anything, her lack of reaction was very annoying to the ink demon. In his experience, girls are the most easily scared, so why is she so calm?


“Not to mention, don't most girls put some effort into their clothing?” The demon thought as he held back a scoff as he looked at the girls clothing choice. Ratty old dirt stained sneakers, penguin printed pajama pants, and a shirt that seemed 10 sizes too big for her frame. If it weren't for the sneakers and the fact that she’s been in his building for the past 20 minutes, the ink demon would’ve assumed that she had just woken up. Maybe she’s just homeless or poor?


A gasp escaped from the woman's lips in front of him, making Bendy draw his attention back to her. It looked like she had just finished reading the ink output schedule and now seemed deep in thought.

Bendy took this as a chance to escape the scene, teleporting himself through a nearby ink puddle to his throne room, plopping down on his chair a moment later. Then, with a close of his eyes, he began to watch the girl through his many cut-outs.

At the moment, to his disappointment, he couldn't see the human. He could however hear her as another gasped escaped her lips. Then, not a moment too soon, the human was in the ink machine room.

Like he had expected, the humans jaw was dropped and her eyes… Shined? as she looked at the large machine suspended by chains alone.


Now Bendy was curious more than anything. He was expecting a surprised expression, but why were her eyes shining at the sight of their machine? It was like she was excited or something. Why would she be excited though? The machine isn't that amazing in all honesty, ever since Henry’s visit the thing has looked more like a broken motor rather than an impressive piece of work.
When most visitors arrive to this part of the studio, they take one look at the stinky ink crusted machine with a cringe then leave. Well, attempt to leave. But Bendy hasn’t seen anybody looked this impressed at this machine ever since Henry, and even he wasn't this enthralled.

“Incredible…” The girl barely whispered under her breath.

Bendy found himself enjoying the humans whisper quite a bit. Better than uncontrollable yelling and screaming at least. Not that the yelling and screaming wasn't thoroughly enjoyable, it’s just that his ears can get tired at times.


This human seemed to have such a child-like innocence in her thus far. Impressed by the simple things and unaware of the buildings true danger. She seemed naive, and with the years of experience that Bendy has had with killing and torturing, Bendy has learned that the naive ones are the funnest to break. Her lack of reaction was probably because she was stupid or something.


With anticipation back in his stomach, Bendy could feel himself grow excited once more as he continued to watch the girl for the next hour as she found and placed the objects on each pedestal. Now, the only object left was the wrench. For this part, Bendy was practically leaning forward in his seat as he watched her approach Boris. Her reaction was, to the ink demon, surprising.



-Your P.O.V.-

You had finished gathering five of the six objects. You found the book in the break-room, the Bendy plush in the theatre, the poison ink bottle near that creepy bathroom, the record in that one lit up music playing room, and the gear in a chest in the ink machine room.
You didn't want to go into the room across from the power on/off switch due to a fucking cut-out popping up out of nowhere, so you decided to avoid that area for as long as you possibly could. Once you found all the possible objects you could and returned to put them on their pedestals, you had found that the cut out had moved it's position yet again. At least now it wasn’t standing in the middle of the hall.

Returning to the the on/off room, you had placed your found objects onto their proper pedestals, and to your shock, each pedestal sunk slightly into the ground as a light turned on to illuminate the said object. A small laugh escaped your mouth at the sight, the whole thing reminding you of some cringy video game.

However, that laugh quickly left you as you knew that you had to go down to the one room that you wished to avoid. You aren't sure why, but that room just seemed to give you a bad feeling. Like something terrible had happened there. Before, you barely gave the area a glance, but now, you had to not only look at the room, but go into it.

You could feel your heart begin to accelerate as your anxiety kicked in to your system. However, as quick as it came, you made sure to shove it back down. You didn't need an anxiety attack, especially not in some old dusty studio full of creepy cut-outs of your (quickening former) favorite character.


With a final sigh, you made your way out of the on/off room and down the hall into the forbidden room, and when you entered that said room, all air left your throat as you stared at the scene in front of you with shock.


There, in the center of a pentagram was a very familiar cartoon that was held up over a gaping hole on a board, being held in place by belts.


You didn't scream, You didn't run or back away. You just stared, allowing a minute to pass, then two. Finally, what seemed like an eternity of being frozen in shock, you finally did something.

You started crying. Crying for the poor cartoon character in front of you.


You didn't know how or why he had a physical form. You didn't understand how it was possible for a cartoon character to have been alive. You didn't understand how somebody could bring something to life, only to be butcher and hang the former life on display like some freak show attraction.

You didn't know Boris, but you knew the cartoon. You grew up with the cartoon, and despite Bendy being your favorite, you always had a soft spot of each and every character. You can still remember the days that you and your Grunkle would sit on the old carpet in your old home as you and him would read the old comics with both of your eyes lit up and glued to the pages. You guys would laugh at the scenes, and get upset at the other characters when they’d do dumb things, and feel happy for the characters whenever they were happy. For hours on end, the two of you would show each other your favorite scenes, reading aloud your favorite parts to one another in order to make the other laugh.


The fact that you were crying wasn't even necessarily because of the fact that there's a dead body in front of you. The reason as to why you were crying was a much more complex reason.


You were crying because you had to see one of your greatest memories suffer and be put to shame.


In all honesty, you could relate to the cartoon in front of you. You could relate to being nothing but a freak. After all, you didn't just take Xanax as needed for your generalized anxiety disorder.



-Bendy’s P.O.V.-

Bendy didn't understand. Why is some random girl crying a the sight of Boris? Could it just be a coincidence?

“That’d be one hell of a coincidence though” Bendy thought to himself, dismissing the idea that she could be crying because of something else.

So then, it leads the ink demon back to the question of why some unknown human is crying at the sight of Boris. If anything, shouldn’t Bendy be the one crying for sweet ol’ Boris? It was his best friend that had died. It was his best friend that the bastard Joey Drew and Sammy Lawrence failed to bring back to life. It was HIS best friend whose true soul is lost in limbo forever and now just has dozens of stupid clones all thanks to that bastard Henry Stein.


So why is SHE crying?

Why is she acting like she has the RIGHT to cry?


Bendy could feel anger well up in his being at the sight. She didn't have a right, not in the demons eyes at least. But then again, Bendy didn't understand all of the human emotions himself.


When it came to others so naturally, to him, he just couldn't understand emotions like others could, leading him to act brashly. When things went wrong for him, all he could do was see through a tunnel. He could only focus on one thing, one purpose. He had tunnel vision. For him, the purpose of revenge has no gaps. Maybe that's why his desire for bloodshed was so strong.

It was more than just Boris that he was upset over though. It was oh so much more. Bendy was upset- no- Bendy was pissed at every single damn worker who had decided to abandon THEM at the studio. They dare leave him and his comrades behind!? They dare dispose of them like yesterdays newspaper!?

Unbeknownst to all, one by one, Bendy and his friends had to watch as the co-workers left. One by one, the ink had begun piling up in the machine, and one by one, each and every single one of the cartoons went insane from the sheer amount of ink alone. They went insane till they just couldn't take it anymore.


So, like any rational being, they embraced the sane feeling of being insane. It felt right. It felt homey. It felt good.


Oh so good.


So good to seek vengeance, so good to kill, so good to torture, so good to feel the thrill.

It was a feeling Bendy and the others could get drunk off of, gulp the feeling down their throat like a strong shot that leaves you with nothing but an addicting buzz in the back of your head.

The ink monsters had become nothing more than alcoholics that desire their next drink of the forbidden nectar, the next drink of the pained screams that seemed to echo in their heads for days.


Honestly, at this point, they just couldn't be cured.


For you see, this type of alcoholic here was no rehab fixing type. This was the type of drinker whose body relied on the substance to function, and without it, their body would die. Bendy and his friends rely on the chase, rely on the feeling, and when good ol’ FUCKING HENRY had slid that tape in to that damned machine, Bendy and his friends could feel everything just end. Just die off.

For years and years on end, they couldn't move, they couldn't breathe. Yet, ink is eternal, surely to Henry’s dismay, ink is indeed eternal. Naturally, they made it out alive, because ink just can't die off.

However, unlike ink, humans can. Maybe that's why the ink monsters killed humans. Perhaps their desire for bloodshed was more than just a mere label of vengeance. Perhaps the ink monsters who had been alive for nearly 90 years now had simply become curious of mortality. Simply become curious of the human body. Simply curious of death.

Honestly though, nobody, not even the ink monsters, could tell you their reasoning.


In Bendy’s eyes , the combination of life and ink was just a bad idea. It only lead to pain. A good example being Boris, an inky life who was never given the chance to allow air to fill his lungs, never allowed for his heart to thump in his chest or his feet to graze the earth.

Maybe that’s why Bendy was so mad. Maybe Bendy was more than just mad at the girl in front of him. Maybe Bendy was more than just mad at Joey or the studio. Maybe Bendy was mad at society for never giving Boris a chance, never giving Bendy the chance to be labeled as anything other than a monster.

Or, maybe Bendy was mad that now, after 90 years of waiting, was the first time that his fallen comrade had received any sort of sympathy from a human being. Not pity, this just didn't seem like pity to the ink monster, but actual honest to gods sympathy.


Bendy could feel his anger wash away. His tunnel, Bendy’s eternal tunnel had just experienced the tiniest of cracks at his realization. His realization that the girl sympathizes with him, sympathizes with Boris and Bendy. Perhaps she has felt the pain of being truly alone? Perhaps she has felt the pain of mistreatment and abuse? Perhaps she has cried to the point that she couldn't cry no more? Perhaps…


Perhaps the girl wasn't as naive as Bendy had initially thought.


Bendy watched in silence as the girl placed the final item onto the pillar. Like many other times, he had watched the blinking words alerting the human that the machine was low on ink, meaning that she would have to turn the valve. It wasn't long from now that the two of them would meet.


And in all honesty, nobody had any idea how it would all go down. Not even the creator themselves.

Chapter Text

-Bendy’s P.O.V.-

Don't most people have a mother or a father?
Well, I never did.

Maybe it was because I never was exactly living per se?

Welp, my point being is that my “life” started out quite complicated. I was born out of ink and a demon summoning.

I vaguely remember being a physical demon once upon a time, a demon that wasn't confined to the prison called ink. I was part of a demon that tempted man to hate. I believe the name I once went by was Soneillon.
Thanks to this Michaelis’ guy writing a book or whatever, a part of this Soneillon’s soul was able to be broken off of him, summoned forth and locked into an inky prison.

In other words, I am a very small piece of a powerful demon’s soul which in turn had come to life, creating a whole new life of my own with only vivid memories of the souls past. Pretty fucked up, huh?

See, I told you my life start was complicated.


You know, on another note, I still remember the feeling of being broken off from my old soul. It was so so painful. Then, before I was even able to register or name the pain that I was experiencing, I was just covered in blackness. Inky and wet blackness. My mind, my body, that chunk of soul was just covered as it transformed into something else entirely…



-Day 1-

“He’s coming to! Sammy, grab the rope!”

Black dotted my vision as I had attempted to rub my eyes back into focus. Finally, after a few blinks and a dozen of so more of a back and forth rub to my eyes, the blackness had went away from my vision. When I looked around, I was met with the gazes of two men.

One man had piercing silver eyes that seemed to have more sclera than iris. He had a large nose and a thin mustache along with crew cut brown hair. Small wrinkles adjourned his forehead as his thin eyebrows seemed to raise even higher at my stare. He looked to be in his mid to late 20’s for the most part, if only it weren't for those wrinkles.

The other man had just come into my line of sight. In his hands, he had a spool of rope.
This man, or rather, this boy had large and round bright blue eyes that seemed to widen even further at the sight of me. He looked much younger than the other man, as his face still had some baby chub. He had shaggy and unkept golden blonde hair and pale skin that was dotted with freckles.


Both men were quiet as they just stared at me, so in return, I decided to stare back. I didn't really have anything going through my mind. After all, at that time, I was nothing more than just a blank slate. I thought that mimicking their actions seemed like the most sensible thing to do. So, I did just that, for what felt like hours.

In reality though, it was probably just a few minutes.


The silence seemed to make the two men's faces scrunch up, like they ate something sour. They seemed uncomfortable and I really couldn't understand why.

The silver eyed mans expression loosened first as a weird breath escaped his lips, almost like he was breathing in reverse. I later learned that what the man did was in fact called a sigh.

Finally, the said man spoke.


“You… What is your name?” The man questioned, and the question made me think.

I felt like I had a name, at least I felt like I should have a name, but nothing was there. Just a small tingle of sadism and sociopathic tendencies, but nothing more. I decided it best to tell the man the truth about my name, despite not knowing his intentions.


“Quia non habent nomen.” I spoke clearly and decisively. However, this just made their faces scrunch up even further, the blondes eyebrows arched upward while the silver eyed mans were arched downwards as a frown tugged at his lips. I didn't understand why they looked so displeased, so I decided to ask.

“Quid enim mali est apud facies tua?” This just seemed to make them look even more upset as the silver eyed man shook his head back and forth.


“Seems like the summoning didn't work. We’ll have to try again another time. For now just tie up the thing.” The silver eyed man told the blonde hair blue eyed boy.

The blonde nodded his head then approached me. Before I knew it, my body was tied together with this material called rope and the both of them had left me in a dark room.


Once they were both gone, I attempted to stand up and move around, but every time I did, I just fell back down. It seemed like something was holding me back, keeping me locked in a circle of misery and confusion.

It was due to my strange imprisonment that I could feel my mind wander as I began to wonder.
I wondered about why I couldn't remember anything, why the men looked so displeased at me. I wondered about myself; my name, my age. Then I wondered about the more complex things, like the fact that neither of them seemed to understand me.

If they couldn't understand me, then how was I supposed to communicate? I decided that if I want information, then I needed to learn how to talk the way that they do.


-Day 6-

In the past six days, I had learned two things:

One is that the reason why I could only move in a circle is because I am trapped in something called a summoning circle!

Second is that I had learned the men's language. In fact, I could speak it perfectly!


That's why I couldn't understand why they looked so startled. I mean, shouldn't they look different? Why are their faces still the same?

Like always, I decided to voice my confusion.

“Why do you both look scared?” I asked, and from my words alone, the blond practically threw up his arms as the tray of food that they had for me went flying into the air, off into the farthest back corner of the room. The boy was shaking as he ran out of the room. However, the silver eyed man who I learned through their interactions was named Mr. Drew, he just stood there and stared at me, his arms crossed as he did so.

“We're scared because you’re unnatural.” Mr. Drew explained to me, causing my eyes to widen to unbelievable lengths.

“B-but i'm just like you guys!” I stumbled out with a forced smile, but this only made Mr. Drew shake his head back and forth.

“You aren't like us.” Mr. Drew said, his cold silver eyes now staring into my pie-cut own. “Unlike you, we have a soul. You… You're nothing more than a monster.”

Mr. Drew closed the door on me yet again, turning the lights off as I now laid in the dark of the room in the center of my circle.


-Day 11-

I had decided to prove Mr. Drew and Sammy wrong. I wanted to show them that I was just like them! In the five days since my conversation with Mr. Drew, the blonde boy named Sammy Lawrence had begun warming up to me! Now whenever he brought food, he would also bring me comic books! Imagine my shock when I realised that I was in fact IN the comic book!

“Bendy?” I asked with a quizzical expression, making Sammy laugh in response as he held the comic out closer to my face.

“Yup! You're Bendy the Dancin’ Demon!” He exclaimed cheerfully, only for his expression to twist into a frown. “Well… At least you were supposed to be…” He expressed solemnly, his grip loosening as the comic slid into my circle.

I picked up the comic then began to look at it. Yesterday, Mr. Drew had decided to untie me, so now I can hold things! It was so interesting to be able to grasp things with my hands!

My tail swayed back and forth as I examined the book, completely ignoring the crestfallen boy in front of me. It was only after I looked through a few pages that I decided to voice concern to the boys expression.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him, making him only sigh in response as he shook his downcasted head back and forth, hands hanging in-between his crossed legs.


“Well it’s just that… You're supposed to be just like Bendy, and… You're not.”


I cocked my head to my right shoulder.

“Like Bendy from the comics?” I asked, making the boy nod his head once as he spoke. “Yeah. That's why Mr. Drew is gonna be getting rid of you in 20 days from now. A reverse ritual or something.”

My eyes literally shout out of my head. Up till now, I knew Mr. Drew disliked me, but I never thought that he’d hate me to the point of wanting to get rid of me! I wasn't sure how I should feel, so I decided to feel nothing. Nothing was easiest to do, not to mention, feeling nothing allowed me to think more concisely.

And people think its strange to be able to turn off your emotions. Clearly, they just don't know how useful the skill actually is.


With my emotions off, my thoughts became clearer. If I wish to stay, if I wish to survive, then obviously I need to please Mr. Drew.


I waved goodbye to Sammy as he walked out of my room. Conveniently enough, it seems that the child had forgotten to get the comic book back from me. Looks like it’s time to study…


-Day 30-

“Hey’a Joey!” I exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as possible. Mr. Drew, who I had learned that his full name is in fact Joey Drew, seemed fairly surprised by my change of attitude.

“How ya’ doin’ this fine mornin’?” I asked as I made a literal hat of ink pop out from nowhere onto my head, only to use it to take off in greeting, then making the hat disappear right afterwards. Joey’s eyes were as wide as dinner-plates as he stood there, his jaw agape.

“W-wha…? H… How…?”

As Joey continued to stumble, Sammy had conveniently popped up. He is the most gullible after all, therefore he’ll automatically believe that i'm truly Bendy. Maybe then he could help me in convincing ol’ Mr. Drew that I am in fact his little Devil Darlin’.


With Sammy’s eyes on me, I did the exact same skit of greeting, making him drop my tray of food straight to the ground. His eyes now as wide as Joey’s, Sammy looked over at him, and as sure as shit…

“Joey! I-it’s Bendy!”



After that, Joey and Sammy left my room. However, unlike usual, Joey had decided to come back hours later.


“You…” Joey muttered under his breath. I looked up at him with a cocky grin on my face, in attempt to imitate Bendy as much as possible.


“You're not Bendy. You're just acting like him.” Joey continued with a statement of the obvious as I began to sway by spade tipped tail back and forth in entertainment.

He was right. I really am not Bendy. However, I do desire to become him. Because if i'm Bendy, then I get to live.

I decided to act oblivious.

“Joey, I have NOOOO idea what you're talking about. Did you take your medication yet?”

“You must think i’m a fucking idiot, huh…”


I nodded my head up and down in response, but sadly Joey didn't look up in time to see it. However, when he did look up at me, I could only see the whites of his eyes and a sliver of silver glaring straight into my soulless form.


“Bendy doesn't have a tail.”


My tail stopped swaying as we both just looked at each other, for once my smile gone. After a few seconds passed (which what felt like an eternity), Joey cracked a smile. An actual smile as he spoke.


“Who’s the fucking idiot now?”

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

You'd be lying if you said that you weren't regretting your life choices at the moment. Remember when you were grateful for the fact that you wore your F/C penguin printed pajama pants today to keep the bugs off your legs? Yeah, well right now, your legs were soaked in ink.

Apparently the valve in which controlled the ink pressure was… Somewhat broken. After turning the said valve, ink had immediately began spurting all over the floor. You were out of there before the black substance could touch your knees, and seeing as how the ink would be at your waist by now if you were to have stayed, you couldn't hep but be a little grateful at how quickly you got out of there.
However, you weren't nearly as grateful for your pant situation.


With a grumble, you dragged your ink soaked legs back to that fucking switch room, not sparing the poor dead cartoon a glance in fear of crying all over again. Once in, you saw that the ink machine was up and running perfectly, at least according to the switch that is.

“Maybe I should go and check the actual machine, just to be safe.” You thought to yourself with a satisfied nod as you began your walk to the ink machine.


You weren't sure why you had made the decision to turn on the ink machine. You just started doing it without thinking. Then again, you were a curious person. Usually not the gossipy “TELL ME YOUR SECRET!” sort of curious, but when things intrigued you, you were the type that needed answers. That would thoroughly explain your mystery/horror video game collection you have on your computer back at home. Would you believe it that mystery and horror games in fact make you sharper and more observant?


Growing up before Henry, you had taught yourself not to be scared of being hurt. Your fathers abuse usually got worse when you showed reactions, but when you hid those reactions, then he generally wouldn't hurt you as long due to lack of response. However, on the inside, you were always crying and screaming.

Even now, when you get scared, you just don't show it. No gasping, no screaming, no jolting, and minimal to no facial expressions. It was the fact that you felt like your life was on the line in the past that had in turn caused you to hide all traces of fear.
However, as a child, your fear was usually there, and the fear you felt was intense. It was just expertly hidden is all.


It was when you started playing video games that your control over your fear got better. You adjusted to being sneaked up on like never before, and you had learned how to be sneaky. Video games taught you many interesting skills, from picking locks, hacking safes, and much more. Not that you have used the safe hacking one, but you have however used the bobby pin trick multiple times at your apartment due to that broken lock on your bathroom door. If it weren't for the skills in which you have picked up from gaming, you couldn't even begin to imagine how many soiled pants you'd have.

“Obviously I can't control all my fear, but if I can have control over at least some of it, then that’s good enough for me” You thought to yourself with an adjustment of your bag strap.


So far you haven't had to use any of the things that you had packed, the two waters still unopened, the granola bars untouched, your pepper spray still at its nearly full state that it has been at ever since that old lady wallet robbing incident (A month ago, some old bitch snatched your wallet from your purse and you had to chase her down), then finally your knife and flashlight, neither of which you have ever used.
In all honesty, you had completely forgotten about your bag. You just got so caught up in the mystery that the literal weight of the bag -or rather your dull green fabric shoulder satchel- was forgotten. Well, till now that is.


When you reached the ink machine entryway, you found yourself stopping mid way.


“Why the fuck is the entry all boarded up?” You said to yourself underneath your breath. You could feel your heartbeat quicken at the sight, knowing full well that it was NOT like that before.
Before you knew it, you had taken out your pepper spray, not wanting to have your knife out in fear of relying heavily on the knife and killing somebody innocent. With your spray in your left hand, you had begun your approach to the entry to the ink machine room.

It seemed like something was in there, near the boards. Something… Black.

It was only when your face was practically pressed against the boards did something move. You screamed, heart thumping as you shot your body around and had begun running towards the exit. Your mind was racing as images of the demonized Bendy face that popped up over the boards mere seconds ago were going rampant.


“What the fuck was that, what the fuck-”

You were mid thought when you decided to turn your head around to see if that thing was following you, something that you are literally NEVER supposed to do. It’s just horror game 101.
And of course, mere inches from your form was an inky gloved cartoon hand reaching towards you, attempting to grasp you.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?” You screamed as you picked up your pace.

However, the creature behind you (from the sounds of it) had decided to do the same as both of your running tempos had sped up.

You knew that you weren't going to make it to the exit, so pushing yourself with your last amount of adrenaline, you had managed to round the corner, mere feet away from the exit, arriving just before that blob of ink had arrived. Then, with skill you didn't realize you had, you turned your body around 180 degrees with master speed, and shot the pepper spray right at the monster, the particles shooting right into his… Ink?

Time sorta stopped as the two of you just stood there, neither of you moving.

“Did I seriously just shoot pepper spray at a being with no eyes!?” You thought, cursing yourself for your stupidity.

Unfortunately, the Ink Demon was the first to snap out of the trance, as a second later, you find your entire body submerged in ink.


That bastard…

It shoved you down the hole!


You glared at the form above you in anger as it waved its large, gloved hand at you then walked away, leaving you in the practical lake of ink, gasping for air. All the while gasping, you were making sure the black substance didn't get into your mouth in fear of ink poisoning.
Desperate for escape, you began to look around, and a little ways away from you, you spotted a valve and practically flopped over to reach the damn thing. Grasping it with ink soaked hands, you barely managed to keep your grip.

But you did.

Turning the wheel to the left, you are met with relief as the lake of ink turned into nothing more than a few puddles and smudges of the somewhat tar like substance on the ground.

As you go to run your hands through your hair, you immediately feel your relief disappear and anger swell back up when you realize that literally every single inch of you (apart from your face) was coated in ink!

Grinding your teeth, you shook your fist in the air with your eyes looking up where that demon Bendy had once stood.


“YOU ARE SO NOT MY FAVORITE CHARACTER ANYMORE!” You screeched at nothing as you stood up, ink droplets falling all around you into a puddle in response.


You needed to get out, you REALLY needed to get out. When you arrived at the studio, you did so because you were curious, not suicidal! You just wanted to find out more about your beloved Grunkle, so why are you being punished for it!?

“Maybe for breaking and entering?” You mind thought on its own, making a growl escape from underneath your breath.

You were so fucking done. Seems like being chased by breathing ink will do that to you!


Knowing that you were VERY ready to leave the building (and take a shower), you had decided that you should probably start walking, and soon. Sitting around won't find you an exit, and from the looks of it, you won't be able to get up through that gaping hole in the ceiling.


“And that thing is surely not sturdy enough…” You thought to yourself as you eyed a cart like shelf a few feet away from you. As you examined it, your eyes landed on a familiar object.
An old cassette player sat peacefully unharmed on one of its shelves.

Through your years with your Grunkle, you have learned how to use the ancient yet cool machines. You highly doubted that the thing worked, but you were willing to give the machine a chance. The one that you played upstairs with that “I'm outta here!” guy certainly seemed to work. Who’s to say that this one isn't?

Somewhat to your surprise, with a push of the button, the tape had started playing, albeit somewhat gurgly. Probably due to the fact that the thing was submerged in ink mere seconds ago.

“Its dark and it's cold and it's stuck in behind every single wall now. In some places, I swear this godforsaken ink is clear up to my knees! Who ever thought that these crummy pipes could hold up under this kind of strain either knows something about pressure I don't, or he’s some kind of idiot.”


“Well considering I have already been in two lakes of ink in mere hours, i’m going to assume the latter.” You muttered under your breath as the tape continued playing, and as the man continued, you found yourself becoming more… disturbed.

“But the real worst part about all this… are them noises the system makes. Like a dying dog on its last legs. Make no mistake, this place… this… machine… heck, this whole darn thing… it just isn't natural.
“You can bet, I won't be doing any more repair jobs for Mister Joey Drew”

The tape was met with complete silence, your face blank as the whirring of the ancient machine ceased. Those two sentences before the last one caused you to have an involuntary shudder crawl up your spine.
That wasn't scary as much as that was just plain creepy. Not to mention, that’s just a ton of major foreshadowing that can only make you more nervous than calm.


A creak could be heard from behind you, causing you to shoot your head back only to see that nothing was there.


“Yeah… I really shouldn't have listened to that tape.” You thought to yourself with a sigh.

Then before you knew it, you finally found your legs moving in hopes of finding an exit.

Not far into your walk, and lo and behold! Ink lake number 3 and 4! You could practically taste blood with how hard you were biting down on your lip in an attempt not to scream in frustration at your once again sopping wet legs and arms.


After turning the last valve, you were met with nothing but a door. Opening the said door, you found that the room was quite small and frankly somewhat musty. However, a smile quickly fitted its way onto your face when your eyes landed on a familiar object on a table mere inches from your grasp.

“Sweet! Its a fucking axe!” You exclaimed in joy as your video gaming days shot by your eyes. It was somewhat comical really, you even had a bag full of supplies just like your adventure ga-!


You dropped the axe onto the ground as your hands shot over to the forgotten satchel, only to find the poor thing drenched in ink. You could feel your eyes become wet at the sight of the bag.


Henry gave you that bag for your 10th birthday, the first event you and him celebrated together.


Solemnly, you opened the bag to check the materials. It looks like you must've lost the spray up on the first floor, because you know for a fact it wasn't in the room you fell down to.
You were happy to see that no ink got in your two waters, as the liquid was still clear. Your granola bars seemed unharmed, but you really couldn't be sure until you ate one.
Considering you don't know how long you’ll be down here (And your sure that canned bacon soup you’ve seen must be all but mold by now), you should savor the six granola bars and only eat them if completely necessary. Same goes for the water.
Then finally, there was your pocket knife. It was coated with ink, but otherwise looked unharmed (as one would expect). The only thing that sucks is that you don't have any surface to wipe the ink off on, meaning that the blade could potentially become jammed or rusted in the future.


With a sigh, you stuffed your materials back into your bag and picked up the axe once again. To your surprise, boards were covering the only open doorways yet again.

Looking down at the axe then back at the boards, you heaved a heavy sigh at both the convenient placement of the object (just like a video game), and all the work that you will now have to do.

You were so caught up in everything, you didn't even notice the inky words on the wall.



Once done with your wood chopping and a few minutes later, you found yourself in front of a fucking pentagram. Behind it were two coffins.


“What the-” You began, but before you were able to finish that sentence, everything started wobbling and you found yourself reaching out for the wall to steady yourself, axe now completely forgotten. To your dismay, the wall didn't help at all.

You knew that you needed to continue walking forward, but with the state you were in, it was hard. You knew not to go near the pentagram, because that thing was set up for what looked like some sorta summoning ritual, candles and all. It was just common sense at this point. However, as you were attempting to climb over a chair, you found yourself incapable of doing so. A second later, you fell back and had passed out right in the center of that damn star, only to experience the weirdest fever dream of your life.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V-

The creaking and painful sound entered your ears, noises akin to the sound of a dying dog on its last legs. You covered your fragile drums with your callused hands in hopes of drowning out the sound, but to no avail, it didn't stop. Opening your eyes to see just what was making the noise, you were met face to face with a staggeringly large machine, colored in black and sepia tones.

The sight of that old thing… Was downright horrifying. It gurgled and spurted black, it creaked and it groaned. The sight on its own made you wish to cry. However, instead of crying, you began laughing.


You laughed until tears streamed down your cheeks, you laughed until your stomach ached and your old bones creaked at the sight. You laughed until you were practically falling out of your wheelchair as your silver eyes crinkled with glee and insanity, wrinkles sculpted into a rare grin.


“Wait… Since when do I have calluses? When did I have old bones or wrinkles? Since when was I in a wheelchair!?” You thought to yourself as you willed your body to stop laughing. But to no avail, despite your thoughts, you were unable to. It was if you were stuck.

It was as if you couldn't control anything.


It seemed like a dream. No…

It was a dream. A dream you were entirely aware of yet unable to control. A dream so lucid you are strapped away from all control. A dream unlike any other because this was more than a dream. You didn't know how you knew, but you did.


This was a glimpse into somebody’s life. Another's memory.


“Why… Why isn't it working?” You rasped out in your unfamiliar deep voice. “I… I took so much ink! I practically drank the stuff, so why…!? Why am I still aging!?”


A deep chuckle was the mans only response. You shot your head up, attempting to find the source of the noise. However, to your dismay, you were incapable of finding it.

“That answer’s simple, DEAR OLD FRIEND” An invisible voice laced with mirth hissed. “You simply are not worthy. The ink… Well you see, the ink chooses its hosts, or rather, I choose who the ink will host. If I believe they are suited, then I will allow them immortality, but if I think they are unfit, then I will kill them.”


You began to tremble with anger, silver eyes shooting up at the machine.


“You're a monster!”


Your words however only seemed to entertain the voice, as a deep throaty rumble echoed the room yet again.

“I'm the monster, huh… ACCORDING TO THE MAN WHO TORTURED US, KILLED US, BEAT US, AND DISPOSED OF US, I'M THE MONSTER!?” The voice screeched, and before you were able to say anything, a familiar form appeared, one that both you and the man know very well.

Standing 8 feet with ink dripping over where its eye-sockets would be. A tall and lanky form wobbled on uneven feet, a skeleton drenched in ink. Its eerie grin stretching across its face as its hand reached out to grasp you.
Your form recoiled in fear, but instead of hurting you like you had expected, you found only a gentle gloved hand placed on your cheek.


“You have no idea how badly I wanna kill you Joey… How badly I wanna torture and destroy you. How badly I wanna chase you and beat you. However, I won't. Seeing you suffer from lack of immortality is more than enough. The greatest punishment for somebody like you…”


To both of your horrors, its perma-grin parted, revealing rows upon rows of sharp canine-like teeth, and a long slithering serpent-like black tongue dripping in inky saliva.


“Is to not die by the hands of me, but to die by the hands of mortality itself.”


With a final menacing laugh, the ink demon disappeared, leaving you in complete and utter silence.

Balling up your fists, you spoke quietly to yourself under your breath.


“That’s where your wrong you little bastard… I WILL be immortal, with or without your dammed ink. And when I do discover immortality, I will make sure that you will suffer the most”




And with that, you woke up.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

Your head was going a million miles an hour as your eyes finally adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. Looking around, you saw that you were now in the center of the pentagram.

Your eyes practically popped out of your sockets as you shot your body up off the ground, shivers that were crawling all around your body beginning their slow decease. Hopping out of the circle, you went back to grab your axe at the doorway in which you entered through, only to find that it wasn't there.


Confused, you shot your head around till you saw that the axe had somehow ended up upright against one of the coffins. You could feel another shiver crawl up your spine with the knowledge that somebody must've been in here, in this very room, with you.


“Oh god, don't tell me they watched me sleep” You thought to yourself horrified. That would just be way too creepy.


Actually, what was more creepy than the idea of somebody watching you sleep was that dream you just had. It bothered you to no end that you couldn't seem to remember what happened in it, but you knew it was a disturbing one.
You woke up shivering, and it wasn't from the cold. You only get those shivers from nightmares, meaning that this dream must've been a bad one.


With a somewhat forced sigh in hopes of calming your nerves, you slid your hand into your pocket, reminding you of your empty Xanax bottle. You could feel yourself pause in your steps as a sudden memory played back in your head.



“PTSD?” You questioned the woman nervously.

The psychiatrist who sat across from you nodded her head solemnly.
“Yes. It seems that your Great-Uncle’s death caused you to develop post traumatic stress disorder.” She explained to you. You could feel your hands become even more clammy than prior.

“Wouldn't it have developed sooner though?” You questioned, making the psychiatrist shake her head back and forth.

“Post traumatic stress disorder is not always instant. In many people, it can take years to develop. It seems like his death triggered panic in your mind similar that you had during your childhood, along with remembrance of many of the events that had occurred in your past.”

Swallowing deeply, you brought your face up to meet the psychiatrists eyes. With a shaky sigh, you asked her a question that you oh so desperately needed answers to. “How… how long will I have it?” You stumbled out.
Your gaze was met with a sympathetic one.

“I cannot tell you. It’s different for every person. I’m sorry.”



It was shortly after that when you were prescribed Xanax. You took 1 to 2 milligrams of Xanax as needed depending on the panic attack severity. However, that dose was recently increased due to your major depressive episode as 2.5 to 3 milligrams as needed. You’ve always had your generalized anxiety, but PTSD… Well, it’s new to you.


Shaking the bad thoughts out of your head and grasping the axe in your dominant hand, you approached the door. Turning the doorknob to open it, you found that although the knob turned, the door didn't budge. It was as if something was blocking it from the outside.
Before you were able to make sense of it, a familiar and deep voice echoed through the wood. You recognized that voice, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't pinpoint where you’ve heard it before.


“You're finally up? Took you long enough…”



-Bendy’s P.O.V.-

That girl… As hard as Bendy tried, he seemed unable to get that girl out of his head. She was just so… Interesting.


When she cried for Boris, Bendy was very confused. After all, that certainly was not a normal reaction when seeing a dead body, cartoon or not. He could chalk it all up to her just having a screw loose, but she really didn't give off an insane vibe.

Trust him, Bendy would know if somebody was insane.


And the fact that she tried to attack him while running away. It wasn't even a desperate sort of attack! She was able to calculate her speed increase AND was able to perfectly time her rotation to shoot the spray into his “eyes”. Maybe desperate wasn't the right word to use, but she was rather… experienced.

Then again, she did just pepper spray a being with no eyes.

That part made Bendy instantly feel somewhat less impressed, but no matter. He was still impressed. Hard not to be after an encounter like that.


Also, Bendy could’ve sworn he heard through his ink the girl shouting at him. Something about a favorite.


This only made the ink monster wonder more about the girl. After all, she was different, and Bendy’s been at the studio for around 90 years! Down here, different is a good thing. A refreshing thing. A needed thing.


Bendy, well… He never really killed outside his territory. Sure, everybody fears him down here, but he still tries to leave the other ink beings to themselves. Bendy may not understand a lot of emotions, but he does know that they have also suffered like he has.


When the girl came in here, Bendy had decided to do his usual routine for intruders; Try to kill them, and if he can't, then make sure they fall down the hole.
Lately, more often than not, Bendy has just been letting the others do the killing.
He was an addict for the rush of course, but there's nothing fun anymore to the demon about the concept of easy prey. Ever since Henry, Bendy just can't seem to find himself as excited.


However, for an unknown reason, this time Bendy was VERY excited for the hunt. He couldn't understand the human, she seemed different compared to most humans. Even Henry showed more fear than her, and Henry was his favorite hunt! More than excited though, the ink demon was curious. Curious about the human in his studio.


This curiosity just made Bendy develop one of the most insane ideas that he has ever had.


“Why not talk to the girl?” His mind thought, but Bendy immediately shook that thought out of his head.


Talking to a human!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM!? Bendy hasn't used his voice at all, not since the Boris incident. Why should he start talking now?

Once again, his mind decided to speak to him without his permission.

“Because you're curious, and this sort of curiosity can only be fixed through conversation. If you wanna find out about the girl, then you have to ask. How else can you find out about her?” Bendy growled, knowing full-well that his mind was right. He really didn't like the idea of talking with someone, but Bendy wants answers about the girl and her strange behavior. Talking was the only way to get them.


With that in mind, Bendy teleported through his ink to the girls location. He expected a scream or an attack when he arrived, but instead he was met with only silence. Looking down, Bendy soon realized the reasons as to why.


She had passed out on the pentagram, meaning that she must be dreaming THAT dream right now.

Bendy was somewhat curious if the human would be able to remember the dream. Most humans forget entirely about the dream, while a few others have had vague memories about it, or experience deja vu later on.

He wouldn't be shocked if she would remember the dream. She seemed smart enough.


Bendy gave off a heavy sigh at the sight in front of him. He wanted to talk to the girl, and it's not like he can wake her up at the moment. Maybe he should just wait for her?


Soon, Bendy found himself waiting for the girl. Actually, he found himself watching the girl. He watched her stomach as it was rising and falling, soft bellows of breath that escaped her lips causing her H/C strands hanging down her face to move up and down in sync.

For some reason, Bendy found her sleeping form to be quite intriguing. He’s seen humans sleep many times before, so the sight isn't necessarily new, but there was something about watching this girl snore away that made him very satisfied.


“Maybe… Maybe I should wait somewhere else till she wakes up.” He thought to himself. After all, he did wish to talk to her. He was expecting to have to pin her up against a wall violently to get her to speak, but since she is sleeping, then maybe once she wakes up, they could have a peaceful conversation?

That idea is definitely a different one to the ink demon. He’s never really had such a sort of peaceful conversation without fear, not even before he became the forms you see today. But maybe talking to her through a wall or a doorway could get him more answers? If she were to see him, then naturally the human would be on guard and probably wouldn't answer anything.


Before he knew it, Bendy found himself setting her axe down closer beside her and the door. That way, once she awoke, they could talk sooner.

Teleporting himself to the other end of the door, Bendy sat himself right outside it, his body pressed against the object so that way she couldn't escape.


Now all he had to do was wait, and surprisingly enough, the wait didn't take long, for soon after he sat down, he could hear the doorknobs familiar jingle.


Bendy had to bite back a laugh as he spoke to the girl. For some reason, the thought of conversation made him feel somewhat giddy.


“You're finally up? Took you long enough…”



-Your P.O.V.-

Your mind was racing after you heard a voice speak to you through the door. Was somebody out there? Was somebody blocking your way of exit? Was there somebody else in here with you!? ANOTHER HUMAN!?

You could feel your breath hitch in anticipation at the thought that there could be another person down here. On one end, you really didn't want somebody down here to be suffering just like you, but on the other, you could really use some company right now. It’d be nice to know that you weren't going insane, especially after that fever dream you just had.


After a bit of stumbling in an attempt to find your words, you spoke. “W-who are you?”


The person, or rather the being (you were still quite unsure) chuckled at your response. After a pause of its own, they spoke.


“I guess you could say that i'm… The owner of this studio.” The being responded with obvious entertainment in its voice. The voice… It sounded masculine.


“Are you male?” You asked in question in hopes of confirming your assumption. You could tell that the two of you would be talking for a while, so before you knew it, you found yourself sitting against the door. To your shock, by sitting against the door, you were able to here the beings voice clearer than you could before. It was a very deep voice, and somewhat gritty. Like a person with strep throat that obviously needs a glass of water. Maybe they were a smoker?


“Well… I guess I would be considered a male now wouldn't I?” He responded in a similar tone that he did earlier. For some reason, his response caused you to giggle.

“You guess? Well then, Mr. Mysterious Man, i’m Y/N. Y/N L/N. Care to tell me your name?” You asked, and from your question, the room grew silent. After a minute or so of pause, the man finally spoke.


His response made you arch your eyebrow as a grin played its way onto your face. The fact that he didn't want to tell you his name was quite strange, but even then, you could understand his need for privacy. After all, if anybody should know anything about secrets, then it should be you.


You could feel your breath hitch all over again with that thought. You never really got a chance to tell Henry about the true extent of your fathers harm on you. You never got to tell him your story.


You told Henry that you were abused, and you told him a few of the things that caused the abuse, but never what your father actually did. What makes it even worse is that you planned on telling him the day after your 18th birthday, the day that he ended up dying.


“I guess… I guess I can understand that” You deflated, and silence was the only thing that followed.


You always wished to tell him, but you never got the chance to. In fact, you always wished to at least tell somebody what happened to you growing up. You never even told your psychiatrist! And now you feared that you were gonna die down here, without ever sharing your story, without your one wish being granted. Your desire for just one person, one being to hear your tale. The desire that you've always had ever since your father had landed his first hand on you violently… You could feel all reasoning melt away as you spoke next, resolution increasing 100 fold.


“Hey, Mystery Man…” You mumbled under your breath. Nothing was said in response to your words, so you continued speaking.

“I-I have a wish, and I fear that I may die down here before getting the chance to ever tell anyone my story. Please… Could you help me grant my wish? C-could you listen to my tale?” Once you finished your sentence, you could feel embarrassment crawl its way into your chest at the stupid request.


“Did I seriously just ask a stranger to listen to my story!? What sort of crappy video game cliche is this!? Otome!?” You thought to yourself as you hid your face in your hands, groaning quietly to yourself. You sounded so pathetic, and to a stranger no less!

To your shock, the man didn't run away. Instead, with a calm and steady voice, he responded to you.








Chapter Text

-Y/N’s P.O.V.-

My first memory was that of a kind woman's face, her rigid wrinkles crinkling in affection at the sight of me. I still remember the days of homemade mac n’ cheese and never-ending tummy tickles only vaguely, but despite this, I knew that I loved the woman deeply.


Maybe that’s why one of my strongest memories was that of her funeral, my tears hidden as the skies cries covered my own weeping sorrow.

I was only 3 at the time, but I understood what death was. The older woman had taught me of it since my mother had died while giving birth to me. I had found out of my mothers death by chance, and instead of denying it, the old woman calmly sat me in her lap and explained everything so I could understand.

That’s why I was so sad. Because despite me being only 3 years old, I understood what it meant when somebody dies. When somebody dies, you can never see them again, and I knew that I would never see her again. I would never see my Grandmother again.


The knowledge broke my tiny heart into two, but that break was nothing compared to what that man did.


It was at the funeral where I first met the man. He was much taller than me, black hair tousled across his head as stubble and bags adjourned his tired and annoyed face. He had deep brown eyes, that despite the warmth in which usually would emit from such a pair, only seemed to radiate coldness, leaving whoever made eye contact with him stuck in the never-ending blizzard of his grief and agony over the loss of his soulmate.

It was those eyes that met his little girls at the funeral that day, my H/C swaying in the wind as my innocent and pure E/C stared into his experienced and dead own.


I think that's when I knew, that's when I first realized that he was simply a broken man.


It was shortly after our first meeting that the blame began. He first blamed me for small things, like using up all the toilet paper or tracking mud into the house, but soon after, those small things became bigger things, as he told me that I was to blame for my mothers death, and that I was a curse in which was born to only cause despair. His most favorite nickname for me was “reaper”, because I reaped the life out of everything I touched.


By the time I was 4, I found myself beaten and broken. I felt worthless from the year of mental abuse, and I had reached the point to where every word he said I could believe. He didn't lie after all, not that man. I think that’s when I found my heart completely shattered. He started locking me in a dark closet, and stopped doing it when I was 5.


Because I was 5 when he first hit me. He was drunk and I had accidentally left a toy downstairs that caused him to slip. That night he went up to my bedroom and beat me till I could barely breathe, slurring names and screeching reaper at the top of his lungs as he kicked and punched until I was nothing more than a bloody and bruised bag of flesh. Guess he found beating me more entertaining than the closet. After that, the physical abuse became more often than the mental stuff, but it still seemed to affect my mentality just as bad.

When I started school, he started drinking all the time. I found the bruises to be placed in less visible areas of my body, and I always was forced to wear long sleeves and pants to hide the marks. I believe it was around that time when the man started playing the game with me, the game that he so favorably called “Reverse Break a’ Bottle”, where he’d chuck his empty beer bottles at my legs, laughing all the while. It stung like a bitch when he first cut me, but the more I found the scars piling up on my legs, the more I found myself disconnecting from the pain.


I was 7 when he started comparing me to my mom. He’d tell me between his spouts of abuse how “Gorgeous of a woman that I was becoming”. I had started locking myself up in my room and I became a complete insomniac, fearing that he’d one day decide to crawl into my bed with me.


I had just turned 8 when he revealed to me the plans he had for me in the future. He told me that once I bled from my privates monthly, that I would “take the place of Mommy”. After all, according to him, they were in middle school when they had first started dating, therefore it only seemed fair for me to be a middle school age when he started touching me.

It was also when I was 8 years old when we found out that he had cancer.


He refused to be hospitalized and instead took his medication by beating me. He wouldn't even use my name by then, only referring to me as reaper as he beated me relentlessly.

I sorta find it funny how I ended up in a hospital before a cancer patient.

I was placed in a medical induced coma, and by the time I awoke, I had found out that my father had killed himself. He died by the cancer in a sense. After all, the man would've never committed suicide otherwise.

For my inheritance, the man left me with an empty chest and nothing more.


I was nine when I moved to another state. According to the social worker, he was my Grandpas youngest brother and my Grunkle.


I still remember how that when I had arrived at his estate, I found my breath taken away.


A small and homey looking house sat atop of sturdy foundation. Its walls painted a dull white as a loose screen door clapped in the wind. Behind the house was a vast forest that went as far as the eyes could see. Little houses were scattered around the area as steep hills were carved into the landscape.

It was then I met my Grunkle. The same color of eyes as mine stared into my own, the color although dull with age, were still soft and welcoming. A mop of unkept silver hair sat atop his head as bushy black eyebrows were arched up in surprise. He was tall, much taller than my father and was unmistakably skinny. He had many many wrinkles and old spots dotted all across his body and face, veins sticking out of his old hands like a sore thumb. His skin was tanned from the years under the sun, and he wore a pair of well muddied jeans and a baggy white t-shirt that was clean of any stains.

Usually, the sort of voices I got in my head when seeing grown men were different ones. Voices telling me that they are a danger, that they will do more harm than good, but looking at this man… Well, despite most children like me only feeling fear, I just knew that this man, that my Grunkle… I knew that he would never hurt me.


That feeling, that sense of security enveloped my body once again, the forgotten hands of an old woman encouraging me to live a long and happy life as she embraced mine flooded into my mind as my Grunkle gripped my young and tight skinned own.


At first, I was somewhat confused, after all, my Grunkle would never hurt me. He’d only scold me when I got into trouble, which was a welcome change that helped confirm my initial belief about the man. He even retired for me!

By the time I was 10, I had told my Grunkle that my father used to hit me and call me mean names. I told him that he’d throw bottles at me and threaten to touch me when I was older. I also told him that my father didn't actually die from cancer in the way that he had assumed, but rather killed himself after putting me in the hospital. My Grunkle all but disowned him at that point.


When I was 11, my Grunkle had found his old comics in his basement. He allowed me to read from them, introducing me to the beloved characters of Alice Angel, Boris The Wolf, The Butcher Gang, and my personal favorite, Bendy the Dancin’ Demon. I still remember asking my Grunkle which one was his favorite character, and I still remember the fond look in his eye when he told me that all of the characters were irreplaceable to him.


I was 12 when me and my Grunkle took a walk in the woods, and there, I was attacked by a bear! Imagine my surprise when my Grunkle literally fought the bear off. I didn't even think it was possible for anyone to do that, much less an old man. But he managed to do it using wit, survival skills, and some pure strength of his own as he managed to not only distract the bear, but also harm it and run away from the bear while carrying me in my arms. When asked how, he simply told me that he was just good at handling his adrenaline.


I was 13 when I made my first friend besides my Grunkle, a boy named Rocky that visited his sister for the summer. He was really unique and taught me many games like poker, spin the bottle, bloody mary, and ouija. When I told my Grunkle of our games, I still remembering him laughing his ass off at the news only to invite the boy over the next day. Rocky’s shocked expression after my Grunkle whooped him in poker will forever be burned into my memory. However, after that summer, Rocky never came back.


I was 14, and it was my first year of high school when I met Thomas Grant, a popular jock that seemed to be very interested in me. I didn't necessarily feel any physical attraction towards him, but I liked his personality, so after 3 months of knowing each other (and with the blessing of my Grunkle), we had started dating. Things were smooth for the following 3 months, we got closer and had plenty of dates. We’d do everything together. However, as much as he claimed to love me and as much as I claimed to love him back, I couldn't find myself actually feeling sure if I really did. I was attracted to his personality sure, but I always got a bit of a funny feeling from him. I played it off at just him being older and had attempted to ignore it, but now… I wish that I had took my intuition a little more seriously.


It was after a movie and a drive back to my house where things became… Intimate between us. Before I knew it, I found his lips pressed to my own and his tongue darting into my mouth. It was different than our usual small and sweet pecks that we left on each others lips or face. This kiss was a sexual one, a kiss that had no innocent intentions behind it.


My eyes blown wide and my body stiff with shock, I only snapped out of it when I could feel his hand go down my shirt to grasp my breast. Finally, I shoved him off of me.

“Thomas!” I panted between heavy breaths. “W-what are you doing?”

A seductive grin that I have never seen before on his face had appeared as he leaned back into me, one arm weaving around my form as he lifted my chin to meet his eyes with the other.

“I wanna make something special with you babe. I wanna… I wanna feel you. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before I met you Y/N. I… I crave you. Fuck, I wanna be with you for the rest of my life! I wanna take the next step, whaddya say?”

He began to lean into me, his lidded eyes slowly closing as he aimed for his lips to meet mine, but before he was able to, I put a hand onto his face to stop him.

“Thomas I… I can't!”

He leaned back at this, Familiar green eyes seeping into my own.

“Why not?” He asked with slight annoyance. “If it's because were in public then we can always just head back to my place.”

I shook my head back and forth in response to this. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to tell him. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to express it to him.


In truth, I had never been attracted by his appearance like the other girls were. When I told him this in the past, he told me that explains why I didn't say yes to him right away, and that he found my resistance charming.

He’s athletic, good-looking, kind and generous. What bothered me though is that side of him always seemed to be a mask. Always seemed so fake and perfect. Maybe that’s why I was never able to fall for him like he fell for me. Because he was so perfect that I just couldn't seem to find anything charming.

And when it comes to sex, well I have never seen the charm in it. When his friends would talk about it around me, I would always feel uncomfortable and disinterested. It seemed like everybody believed that you need sex to have a healthy and pleasing relationship, but I just didn't understand it. They’d talk about masturbating, but i’ve never masturbated, and I was perfectly happy. I never blushed when I saw good looking people, yet I still found attraction. Why do you need to have sexual urges to love? Why does love and lust need to both be there in a romantic relationship?

I didn't know how I was supposed to tell Thomas, at the time I simply didn't have a word for it to be able to tell Thomas with. I didn't know what asexuality was then, so I told him in the only way I knew how.


“I… Never wanna have sex”


And by those words, I found his eyes to be blazing with an unlit fire.


“You… You selfish fucking cunt! Are you breaking up with me!?” He screeched at me, and I quickly shook my head back and forth.

“N-no! Its not like that, I just don't have sexual urges!” I screeched back, and this seemed to clear the fire in his eyes almost instantly as I found his eyes to narrow once again.

“You're more innocent that I thought.” He laughed seductively. Then, leaning into my ear, he spoke.



“Let's change that, huh?”

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

If it weren't for my Grunkle and his arrival, it was safe to say that I would've been raped. Thomas Grant was arrested shortly after and put in jail for the next five years.

To my shock, nobody at highschool was actually mad at me. I thought that since he was an all star student, that I would maybe be blamed for him ending up in jail.

In fact it was the opposite. Afterwards, many girls approached me saying that he’s always been the type of guy whose only thought was to get in girl’s pants, some even confessing that he succeeded getting in theirs.

Thomas’s friends told me that they thought that he changed after meeting me, and that he really seemed like he was in love this time around. They said that he was practically obsessed with me, but dismissed his obsession as just the first-love jitters. They told me that in the end, it looks like he had only changed for the worse.


High school became just another part of my everyday life. I didn't really try to make friends. Saw no point. I was never lonely though. My Grunkle would pick me up everyday for lunch, allowing me to go home and eat a home cooked meal. Sandwiches are an American classic.

You don't even necessarily need to talk in a classroom either, in fact, I found that paying attention to the teacher to be far more interesting than our schools gossip. Yeah i’d talk to people, but I never sat by them at lunch or hung out with them outside of school. I had class-friends, not true friends. Well, no true friends except my Grunkle.


High school was a boring and long journey, but once I reached the end of it, I was thrilled. Ironically enough, my birthday is on the last day of school for seniors who end school before all other kids. My Grunkle was so proud, he even made a sign for me with drawings of Bendy, Boris, Alice Angel, and the Butcher gang on it!


When they called my name to receive my diploma, my Grunkle was hooting and hollering at me as he waved the wooden picket sign up and down like he was at a rally. Even as over half the auditorium turned to stare at him, he didn't stop. Thanks to him, I was not crying, and was instead found laughing in adoration at his sincereness. We always joked about him showing up with a sign at my graduation, who knew that he’d actually do it!


Afterwards, me and my Grunkle went out for dinner, and once we arrived back home, he pulled out a homemade cake for me from the fridge.
My Grunkle was never the best cook, but I usually found his stuff to be edible. His baking skills however were horrendous. I never knew it possible for someone to burn ice-cream until I met him. I still remember him arguing with me that “Putting ice-cream in an oven is just a quick way to let something defrost!”
So, when I bit into his cake, I was expecting to taste something terrible, but I instead found myself eating a smooth flavor that tasted very similarly to my favorite fruit.


“You like it?” My Grunkle asked. My eyes had stars in them as I looked up at him, head nodding up and down. A smile of his own formed onto his lips in response, and I watched in silence as he played with his folded hands on the table.


“I-It took a lot of tries, but… Y-your smile definitely makes it worth it Y-Y/N.” I could feel tears well in my eyes at the sight of his cut up, burned and bandaged hands fumbling in place. Before I knew it, I found myself sitting up out of my chair and running over to my Grunkle, arms wrapping around his form as tears seeped from my eyes.

“I-I love you so much Grunkle. I don't know what I would’ve ever done without you. You changed my life, and I could never thank you enough.” I said between my hysterics.

His old and thin arms soon wrapped around my form in response, and for the first time I had found myself noticing how thin my Grunkle had gotten. How his skin went from its vibrant tan to a sickly pale, his eyes that although dull, had once shown with life now completely clouded over from his cataracts. The way that he’d forget things. The way how his once silvery hair is now thin and white. The way that his body trembled and bones creaked as he’d do nothing but sit. And the way that you could find his sentences stutter often as he spoke.

I still remembering looking up at the man when I first met him, how tall and towering he was compared to me. I remember staring at him in idolization with his brute strength towards the bear and his winnings against Rocky.
I’ve always idolized him, and despite all that has changed with his appearance. Despite his shrinking, his aging and the fact that not only his body, but his mind had weakened, to me, he was still and always will be the strongest man in the universe. To me, he is my one and only Grunkle. To me, he is irreplaceable.

I had decided then and there that I would tell him everything about me that he doesn't now. I would tell him all the sad things along with all the happy things that I had never told him, and in return, he could tell me everything about himself that he wished to.

“Grunkle…” I whispered under my breath as I still held him. From my words, a soft questioning hum escaped his throat.

“Tomorrow… Tomorrow can we wake up early and watch the sunrise together? There are some things that I would like to tell you.”

I could hear the smile in his voice as he responded.


“Of course kiddo.”


However, we never had the chance to. That next morning, when I ran to my Grunkle's room to wake him up, I found that his body was cold and stiff. I screamed at the top of my lungs and quickly called 911. When they arrived, they pronounced him dead at the scene. According to them, his time of death was put roughly around midnight. He had been dead for five hours, and I slept through it all.


When his death became public, not long after, I was called to the hospital, and there the doctors told me their shock. According to them, my Grunkle had been diagnosed with brain cancer three years prior, and they only expected him to live a year at most.


“He fought till the end for you.” One of the doctors explained to me. “He was adamant every appointment that he would not move into a hospital room, and would instead receive treatment with visits. He tried all different types of medication and therapies so that he could prolong his life. When we asked him about why he was willing to put his body through such toll, he told us that, ‘I have a Grand-niece at home who has yet to graduate. At the very least, I wanna survive until her graduation so that she can say that she was loved during her childhood.’”

Sobs continued to escape my lips as the woman continued to explain everything to me.

“And to think, right after the day of your graduation, he found no more reason to fight death anymore. It seems like he lovingly accepted the reaper with open arms. A man that was in that much pain… I simply found it shocking to say the least.”

“W-what did you find shocking?” I stumbled out, and with a smile, the woman continued.

“In his final moments, he put a smile on his face and accepted death itself. We’re taught to fear the reaper, but him… I just don't think he ever knew how.”


My Grunkle left me all his belongings. In his will, he asked me to sell his house so I could use it for college money. I did what he wished for me to do, but I wasn't mentally stable enough to start college yet, so instead I moved into a studio apartment and got a job at a bookstore.

I had just felt so utterly lost.

Before I knew it, I was having a major depressive episode, a period characterized by the symptoms of major depressive disorder. It took me a lot of time to recover, and during my episode, I found myself having nightmares, flashbacks, and suffocating paranoia along with avoidance of certain places and things. Mainly all the negative things that were being created in my mind were centered around my father and Thomas.
It was only when I met my psychiatrist did I realize that I in fact had PTSD. She prescribed me Xanax as needed (Since I didn't wanna drug myself every day if I didn't need to), and before I knew it, I got better. I needed the pills less and less, and found myself pursuing the art of comic making, along with continuing my job at the bookstore.

Life was great, and by the time I turned 19, I decided that I needed closure for my uncles death once and for all.


Finally, after much willing towards myself, I had arrived at his old storage room.

Chapter Text

-Bendy’s P.O.V.-

“So, after finding a letter in the storage room, I decided to head to the studio to find out more about my Grunkle. Imagine my shock when the only thing I found was a building full of disappointment, and an demon ink monster thing.” The girl that Bendy learned was named Y/N finished off her story with a sigh.


Bendy was shocked to say the least. When the girl offered to tell her tale, he was expecting to hear a happy childhood, not a life full of death, abuse, rape and misery. He always assumed that humans were only cruel to non-humans, but after hearing the story of her past… Bendy wasn't so sure anymore. It seemed to him that Y/N had experienced plenty of rejection and heartbreak in her short 19 years of life. Much like Bendy.

After hearing her story, Bendy understood a lot more, especially the reasons as to why she wasn’t that scared of him. In her eyes, she probably found no cause to be scared, no reason to be scared of a literal demon ink monster thing that came to life. Because to Bendy, it sounded like Y/N had already seen the true hearts of demons and monsters that were trapped in beings called humans. Bendy was just a manifestation of that heart.
She was scared of him, but now that Bendy thinks about it, she seemed more scared for her life than anything else. She fought him for crying out loud! If she was scared of him, then what are the chances she would do that?

“If she wasn't scared for her life, then she wouldn't have told me of her past” Bendy thought to himself as realization hit him like a brick.

She said she was scared of people not knowing her story. In other words, she simply told me her story due to her fear for her life?


“Well…” Bendy thought to himself as a sharper grin grew onto his face. If she truly suffered like that, then Bendy cannot begin to imagine her tales of revenge. He definitely had to know the answers to that. Her stories of payback are probably so devilishly delicious, Bendy could feel drool escape his usually iron-tight jaw with the mere thought.
He had other questions, like what was her Grunkles name for example (After all, she didn't say it once), but those questions weren't nearly as entertaining as this one.


“So… What did you end up doing to them?” Bendy asked in the most nonchalant tone possible.

“Them?” Y/N asked back, confusion evident in her voice.

“Yes.” Bendy hissed then continued, “How did you avenge your honor against the people who wronged you?”


Nothing could be heard from the other side of the door. Silence graced the pair for a minute or two, and just as Bendy opened his mouth to ask another question, the girls boisterous laughter cut into him before he had a chance.

“WHAT'S SO FUNNY? STOP LAUGHING!” Bendy commanded, irritation made clear. He expected Y/N to stop laughing immediately, but instead she continued. Then, between her hysterics, she spoke.

“M-mister Mysterious Man, I d-hahahaha-I didn't do anything!”


How badly Bendy wanted to rip her head off right now. Fortunately though (for her), he held himself back. Once she stopped her laughing, he spoke.


“Why not?” He asked, making Y/N sigh.

“Honestly, you’d think most people would be like ‘i'm sorry for your tragedy’, not ‘how’d you get them back…’” Y/N mumbled under her breath to herself, only to respond to Bendy’s question less than a second later, not giving him a chance to talk back.


“Because I don't think they deserve my wrath” She told the demon in her usual tone.

“WHY NOT?” Bendy growled, shocked to find himself as irritated as he was. “THEY WERE CLEARLY BAD HUMANS! EVIL HUMANS!”

“I disagree” Y/N spoke.

The unexpected calmness to her tone made all of Bendy’s irritation flood away as he instead found himself filled with curiosity yet again at the mysterious and strange human girl. The demon waited patiently for Y/N to continue, and when she did, Bendy found himself blown away.

“I don't believe there is such thing as good and evil or good and bad people. Good and bad are man-made words that humans invented in order to describe other humans that exhibit either good behaviors or bad behaviors. We call people good and bad by the things that they show us, when in reality, the goodest of people could have the evilest of thoughts and the evilest of people could have the goodest of intentions.”

Bendy found his jaw dropped by the humans simple words. He never really thought of good and evil in a manner like that. To Bendy, things have always just been bad or good. In his eyes, she sounded stupid.

“So then Y/N…” Bendy said with a slight growl in his tone. “If there is no such thing as evil, then what would you call bad people that do bad things?”

“Hmm… I would call them many different things. Maybe ignorant or broken. However I can’t tell you what I would exactly call them without knowing the situation.” She said, and Bendy found himself grow quiet as he responded back in the most hesitant of voices that he has ever spoken in his life.


“What would you call somebody who killed every single human that ever directly or indirectly hurt him? What would you call somebody who kills innocent people just for them walking into his territory? What would you call a literal demon, a being that is and always has been referred to as a monster? WHAT WOULD YOU CALL THEM THEN, Y/N!?” Bendy screeched out the last part at the girl, and not to his shock, he was met with nothing but silence.

With a tisk, Bendy sat himself up and began walking away, but he found himself stopping as a voice shouted itself back out for his return.

“I would call them a being who had been deeply hurt to the point that they broke. I would call them a being that was so lost that they just didn't know their way back. I would call them a being that was never given a chance to be anything else other than a demon or a monster. I think… I think I would call them unfortunate.”


Silence followed the pair, and before he knew what he was doing, Bendy was walking back to Y/N, his massive 8 foot some body leaning against the door once more.

Before long, he found himself listening quietly as her breaths became heavier and deeper.


“Listen… I know I barely know you but… Think I could take a nap? That dream… It left me more tired than I was prior… I’d appreciate it if… You made sure nobody got in and...”

Before Y/N even finished her sentence, gentle snoring could be heard from the other side of the door. Bendy knew it would be best if he were to leave, after all nobody would hurt her at this point of the ink beings games. However, as odd as it was, he didn't want to. This time as she slept, he found her snores not only satisfying, but calming.
For the first time in his life, Bendy could feel himself relax as all stress had begun to leave his body. To think… He’s not even in the same room as her, and yet he feels this calm. It made the ink demon wonder how calm she could make him feel if they were in the same room.

Obviously though, them being in the same room couldn't happen. Especially not now, after their conversation that is.

Usually, making fear is the funnest thing for the ink demon, but with Y/N… For some reason, Bendy didn't know why, but he didn't want her to be scared of him, and if they were in the same room, then obviously she’d be terrified. Hell, he’d be more concerned if she didn't mind his appearance!


Bendy decided then and there that at the very least he wouldn't be the one kicking her bucket.




Bendy awoke to small moaning noises from the other side of the door. It sounded like Y/N was waking up.


Before Bendy could allow the girl to say anything to him, he teleported through a nearby ink puddle and had arrived back in his throne room.

Settling down into his throne, Bendy closed his eyes, allowing himself to see every angle of the studio, allowing him to soon see every angle of Y/N.
Given, he couldn't see her right now, but Sammy is so obsessed with the Devil Darlin’ that the man has dozens of cut-outs of him scattered throughout his ward. He’ll certainly be able to keep an eye on Y/N from there.


Bendy didn't even allow himself to question his change of opinion with the girl. He really didn't wish to confront the fact that he wishes to keep her safe, and instead had decided on convincing himself that he just won't kill her with his own hands, and is simply watching her from curiosity alone. After all, why else would he be watching her?


Chapter Text

-Day 51-

 The ritual to return their defective product failed. 


To my pleasure, the ritual failed. 


Not once, not twice, but 27 times in which the ritual had failed. 


I watched Joey freak out in silence, my tail swishing back and forth in amusement. It was somewhat funny to see such a collected guy like him flip out. The way he talked to himself as he paced back and forth, his odd human fists curling around the now longer locks of his hair… Yeah, this was prime-time entertainment. 


With each experiment that Joey would try and use to fix me/destroy me failed, I could feel more of my empathy leak out each day as apathy filled the hollowed space where my empathy once was. 


Hell, I wouldn't be shocked if I was a sociopath. I’ve always had the tendencies, I was born with them! But right now, I feel very little empathy about, well… Anything! Maybe those experiments to get rid of me/fix me were messing with my head. 


I hummed a cheery cartoon tune that annoyed the man to no end. I was whistling through my lips at this point and I had a sudden urge to tap dance, just to irritate the man further. 

Poor ol’ Joey looked ready to strangle me! And little ol’ Sammy in the background looked exhausted, his sleeping form sprawled across the same flooring that I slept on every night. 


I continued to hum my tune, and not long after, I watched as Joey stopped his walking, his form shaking from behind as he suddenly shot his body back and glared at me. 


“CAN YOU STOP FUCKING DOING THAT!?” He screeched. I watched with entertained eyes as the prior sleeping Sammy, whose legs were right underneath Joey’s, jolted in shock and kicked him right in the balls! 


Joey collapsed onto the ground in pain as Sammy rubbed his eyes, the whole situation eliciting a genuine giggle from me. 


“Seems like you're in quite the nutty situation, eh Joey? ” I said with a finger shot of my hand. By my response, Joey allowed a growl to escape from under his breath. 


“Fuck you, Demon.” Joey spat. 


“Hm? W-where am I?” Sammy mumbled as he looked around. 


“Sorry Joey, but I don't swing that way. Not exactly into gay pedophiles.” I said with an overly exasperated huff. 


Joey had a vein popping out of his forehead while Sammy’s eyes were as wide as dinnerplates as he stared at Joey. He was trying very (not) subtly to scoot away from him. 


“I’m not a fucking pedophile Sammy!” Joey screeched yet again, making Sammy jolt in surprise. 


“So then… You're gay?” Sammy questioned with an honest to god confused expression. I was practically pissing my non-existent pants at this point. 


Joey just sorta stood there, and finally, after a whole five minutes, he just sighed. 


“I’m fucking done. Bendy, i’ll be releasing you from your circle tomorrow.”


And with that, Joey walked out, a very confused (and still questioning) Sammy following behind him. All the while, I sat there, feeling very pleased with myself at the fact that Joey had finally accepted my fine acting skills to be Bendy. 

-Day 61-

I have been out for 10 days now, and so far I have done a great job in adjusting to my role as Bendy. Joey doesn't care where I wander as long as I don't interact with any humans or leave the building, and although the fact that I can’t leave the building sucks, that’s fine by me! Better than that damned circle anyhow. 


In the days that I have been out, I have met quite a few other ink beings! They were created after me, and unlike me, they had been experimented on successfully multiple times. 


So far, the most interesting ink being that I have met besides myself was Alice Angel, a bitchy narcissist who treats me like i’m poisonous. Its been really fun teasing her with threatening to touch and poke her. She hated my guts, and that was fine by me. As long as I got entertainment out of it, I honestly couldn't give two fucks. 


I also have met a dozen or so Boris clones. They were all so damn chatty, talking about how they used to work at the building, begging me to help them escape. Only one Boris clone didn’t talk. The guy was a completely pussy and utterly mute. According to Joey, that clone was the latest attempt at finding Boris. He said that his soul will be lost in limbo forever if we don’t find his voice. I found the whole situation odd, but accepted it nonetheless. And since Joey said that the mute Boris is soulless, I had no problem picking on em! 


However, the teasing quickly got boring as all he would do when I approached was shake and cover his head with both of his arms. He was a coward. 


Because of how boring I found the clone to be, I began pestering Joey about making a new Boris. 

-Day 109-

 “FOR THE LAST TIME BENDY, I SAID NO!” He screeched at me, his face red and fists balled up. 


“But whyyyyy!?” I extended the y out like a little kid, making the silver eyed man even more annoyed than prior. 

However, unlike Joey’s usual reaction with him shoving me out of his office, he actually seemed to consider my words this time around. 


“I’ll tell you what Bendy… I’ll give another try at summoning Boris, ONLY if you let me do one final experiment on you. What do you say?”


I scoffed. He still must've taken me for a complete idiot considering he’s trying to use me right now. At the mans words, my usual childish face turned downright terrifying. 


“Trying to play me like a fool, Joey?” I said with a wide grin and small pupils, tail swaying back and forth as I sat myself up onto his desk. Joeys face stayed blank despite my change. 


“Not at all” He responded calmly and calculatively. I couldn't help but laugh at the mans response. 


“Ya know Joey, you truly are a very interesting specimen. You seem to lack all empathy, and yet you don't scream sociopath like I do. Wonder what’s up with that? Could it be that you can turn off your emotions like me?” I asked with a toothy grin. This actually seemed to make the man a little nervous, but nonetheless, he continued this attempts to convince me. 


“Don't you wanna be like the others?” 


“What?” I hissed out. The man still continued. 


“You’ve never had an experiment done with the purpose of modifying you, only destroying you. If modified, you could be so much better, so much more… Complete. Just like the others Bendy. Just like all the others.”


I thought about this for a moment. 


On one hand, I feel like my form is already the perfect representation of Bendy (minus the tail), but on the other, I am just not the same as I used to be. Those experiments that he had did… They had forcefully destroyed something in my mind, something with my emotions. Given, it hasn't destroyed it entirely (I don't think it ever will), but I can tell that I can’t care as deeply about things that I once had. 


“But did I ever care about things before the experiments? ” I thought to myself against my will. I could feel a cold and inky sweat break out across my form. “Did I… Did I ever care about anything? Did I ever experience any emotions even before the experimenting?”


My fists had begun balling up and my form began to shake. Looking up at Joey with bleary eyes, I found only a cold pair peering back into my own. 


“Joey, I… I wanna learn how to feel again.”


-Day 200-

 Pain filled moans and screams echoed down the empty hallways of the old cartoon studio. Chains rattled and ink curdled into a thicker and goopier mess with each of the cartoons cries and pleas. The lights flickered as the walls soon became coated in the cartoons blood. And all the meanwhile, I had found myself back inside a circle, more broken than ever before.


The experiments were constant. They never stopped. Joey would do everything imaginable to my now unstable ink. 

He’d submerge me in water, cut my limbs off and reattach them, casted many painful rituals, would shock electricity into me, and the worst of all… The worst of all was the ink. 


Spray it, inject it, swallow it, absorb it, puke it, bleed it, freeze it, melt it, harden it, soften it- Every single day he’d mess with my ink. 


I had begun begging him long ago, a week into the experiments, begging him to stop. Begging him to end it all, but he never did. He’d only continue my slow and painful torture. I think it was after that first week where I finally had begun to realise that if I was a sociopath, then Joey was a psychopath. 

-Day 250-

Joey had started experimenting on the others. It wasn't just me now. Alice had become deformed, Boris had become nothing but a corpse, the butcher gang was mutilated and reborn multiple times, and I… I was having many troubles myself. 


I really wished that somebody could save us, could save me. It seemed to me like humans are unimaginably cruel creatures that get off on pain and suffering. Especially Joey. 

Not to mention, Sammy had all but turned psychotic. He had rarely visited, but when he did, he would always speak about worship and sacrifice. He’d call himself my servant. 


As it stood, it seemed like nobody would ever care to sympathize with us. 


2 week ago, I realized that something was wrong with my ink. Joey had realized it too, and had begun more experiments on me in attempts to try and figure it out. I couldn't even necessarily say that I wanted to be fixed. 


I guess only time will tell. 

-Day 272-

 Joey has been unable to find out what was wrong with me, and Sammy’s visits, to my pleasure, had become non-existent. Doesn't exactly help hearing a psychotic man spew worshiping stuff to my already fragile and broken mind. I felt… I felt like my death was near, and it scared me. For once in my life, I found myself scared. 


“Joey…” I muttered out very weakly under my breath. The man was in the room with me at the moment, his body turned away from my form as he fiddled with test tubes on a nearby table. All the while, I was strung up by chains. 

As of late, he has only been treating me like I was nothing more than a guinea pig, an animal that he would refuse to converse with. Still would prefer this than Sammy. 


Despite his lack of response, I had continued to speak. 


“Joey… Why… Why do you… Do all this?” I rasped out, and for once, Joey had actually responded. 


“Bendy… You do not age.”


I had to hold back the laugh that threatened to rise up my throat as I spoke next.  


“No shit. I'm a… a cartoon charact-” I stopped mid-sentence as I had begun coughing my lungs out, black ink spurting through my lips and onto the floor. I was very very sick. And no matter how sick I got, I couldn't die, as much as I may wish to. 

Despite my cough, it still seems like Joey had understood me loud and clear. 


“Immortality... Bendy, do you know what I… What humankind could do with immortality?” 


I didn't have a response for this. Immortality was a natural thing to unnatural creatures like us. I couldn't understand how or why Joey would desire it. Nor could I understand how he could achieve immortality through ink for humans. 


“That’s impossible to achieve…” I muttered out, my eyes glued onto the back of his beginning to gray hair. 


My response, for some twisted reason, elicited a hearty laugh from the mans throat. 


“Impossible!? IMPOSSIBLE!? It has already succeeded! Or have you not met the first Alice Angel?! Have you not met the Boris clones!? The Butcher Gang!?”


It was at this point in which Joey was facing me, silver peepers peering into my slowly drooping pie-cut own. His face mere inches from mine as his yellowed teeth formed into a wickedly happy snarl and his eyes seemed to glow an eerie red with the lighting of the room. 




And he was right about everything he said. That one sentence… Everything was true. He granted me the ability to feel, only to take it all away all over again in a matter of a month. I was like how I had started, but worse. 


And soon, I found myself doing exactly what he told me to do. Embrace the sane feeling of being insane. 

We all did. 



I believe it was there. It was there when I had begun my slow descent into hell. 

-Day 421-

My ink was heavy as it dripped down my form. My tail nonexistent now as my hips swayed back and forth upon my unbalanced and malformed feet. My eyes were covered with the toxic yet addictive substance as I still managed to navigate my way through the halls. Tight smile on my lips, I could feel my tongue threaten to slither out of my mouth. 


I wasn’t Bendy The Dancin’ Demon. Not anymore. 


I was Bendy the Ink Demon. 

Entering the destined room, I found that not only were Joey and Sammy in there (ritual robes and all for Boris’s reincarnation), but Henry was there as well. It was the first time I had met the man, and he was just like I pictured ‘em. 


I could feel my smile stretch farther as I looked down at his short form. 


“Well, well, well. If it isn't good ol’ Henry.”


Slowly, the man turned around to face me. It was safe to say that his reaction to my appearance was… Devilishly delicious.         

Chapter Text


  • 1944: Henry started working at Joey Drew Studios at the age of 16 as errand boy. 



  • 1950: Henry was promoted to an animator/cartoonist



  • 1960’s: Studio’s cartoon popularity plummeted. 
  • 1961: Bendy was created. He had no soul, thus making him have sociopathic, if not complete sociopath tendencies. Joey had begun experimenting on Bendy and the other ink creations.
  • 1961-1962: Bendy had become an Ink Demon
  • 1962: Boris’s ritual failed. In turn, Bendy had killed Sammy, made Joey a parapalegic, and took over the studio. 
  • May 3rd 1962: Joey Drew Studio’s closed down. 
  • 1963: Henry had begun serving in the Vietnam war.



  • 1971: Y/N’s Mother was born
  • 1975: Henry stopped serving in the Vietnam war (war ended), and ended up buying his own home in the countryside.



  • 1982: Henry’s Sister died, and his brother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's
  • 1986: Henry’s Brother died, and Henry became an alcoholic. 
  • 1989: M/N Stein (Henry’s niece and Y/N’s mother) convinced Henry to go to rehab for his addiction



  • 1991: Henry was released from Rehab
  • 1992: Henry received a letter from Joey Drew, asking him to return to the studio. All the events from the video game transpired from there. Afterwards, Henry had begun making cartoons for his local newspaper. 
  • 1996: M/N Stein became M/N L/N after she married F/N L/N



  • 2000: M/N died while giving birth due to hypertension. Y/N was born.
  • 2003: Henry’s sister in law died from old age. Y/N met her father at the funeral and moved in with him. He began to mentally abuse her and lock her in a closet. 
  • 2005: F/N began to physically abuse Y/N. 
  • 2007: Y/N became an insomniac due to her father making pick up lines at her. 
  • 2008: Y/N’s father told her that she will be the replacement for M/N. That same year, F/N was diagnosed with cancer. 
  • 2009: Y/N’s father died. Social services contacted Henry, asking him to be the caretaker of Y/N. He accepted. 



  • 2010: Y/N told Henry that her father was abusive
  • 2011: Henry found his old Bendy comics and introduced them to Y/N. She loved the comics. 
  • 2012: Y/N was attacked by a bear, but Henry saved her. 
  • 2013: Y/N became friends with a boy named Rocky. He left after summer break. 
  • 2014: Y/N had begun dating Thomas Grant. He had attempted to rape her. He was arrested and brought to jail for the next 5 years. 
  • 2015: Henry found out that he had brain cancer. Shortly after, he also found out that Bendy was alive. 
  • 2018: Y/N graduated. Henry Stein died. Y/N developed PTSD during her Major Depressive Episode
  • 2019: Y/N arrives at Henry’s old Storage unit and finds two letters, one written by Joey. Y/N decides to go to the studio, and from there, the story begins. (Also known as Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 13)

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


When you awoke, you felt much more refreshed than you did prior. It seems like all that you really needed was a good nap. 

"And to get out of this place…” You thought bitterly to yourself as you picked up the axe that was beside your body. This time when you attempted to open the door, to your satisfaction, you were able to get out. 


Standing in the doorway, what was in front of your tired eyes was a steep staircase going downward. Above the said staircase was a sign that read “Utility Shaft 9” . At the bottom, you could’ve sworn there was a soft small glow of a candle light. Cussing underneath your breath, you began your descent down, and sure enough…


Smack dab in front of you was a table filled with what must’ve been the offerings that the first cassette player with the “I’m Outta here!” guy spoke of. There was 7 candles in total, one of the said candles on the floor in front of the narrow wood. 4 of the 7 candles were lit, each emitting a ethereal orange glow. 

There was 3 bowls in total of food offerings that consisted of moldy grains and rotten fruits that made the otherwise inky smelling place smell more like ass and death. 

There was 3 cans of that bacon soup, and to the right of the table was a banjo placed up in the corner. 


With a small smile, you playfully strummed a few of the banjos strings, a familiar ring escaping from the dusted instrument as they floated into the stale air. 


Once you were done with the examination of the offering table, you found your eyes land on yet another cassette player. 


“So far the cassettes have been quite useful with their foreshadowing. I might as well play it, right?” You thought to yourself, and with little hesitation, pressed the play button. 


As soon as the tape started, a smooth and slightly hushed tone of a voice began to fill your eardrums. The voice would've been a relaxing one if it was on another person, but for some reason, the way that this man spoke… Something sounded really off with him. His words that he spoke helped you to confirm that even further. 



He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon me. The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you, my savior.  Pray you hear me. 


Those old song, yes, I still sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final loving embrace. 


But, loves requires sacrifice. 

Can I get an amen?



“I said… Can I get an AMEN?”


Your heart leapt out of your chest as you shot your body back from the table, swinging your axe down through the air right where you heard the noise come from. However, to your horror, nothing was there, as you found your axe hitting nothing but the wooden floorboards as it successfully lodged itself stuck in place. 


Despite the lack of body, you found your eyes shooting around back and forth, scanning the area in your peripheral vision. 


Nothing was there. Nothing except a slowly dripping pipe that was splattering ink across the ground. 


“Now that was some major foreshadowing” You said aloud in shock and slight horror.


Walking forward, you turned your head to the right only to see another two coffins, both very similar to the ones you saw upstairs, along with yet another pentagram placed in front of it. A small shiver threatened to crawl its way down your spine at the sight. Taking favor in ignoring it, you decided to instead go down the other direction. When you found yourself in front of the said hallway, you could feel your breath hitch. 

 There, a number of feet in front of you was yet another Bendy cut-out. However, something was VERY wrong with this cutout. This cutout, unlike the others, was placed in front of a pentagram, a pentagram that was eerily familiar to the one you found yourself asleep on just minutes prior. 

 With a small gulp, you walked up to the thing, staring silently into its pie-cut eyes. Not once did the thought of cutting down the said cut-out pass your mind as you instead found yourself putting a single finger on the said structure. It felt like that cheap wood, the grinded up looking stuff you see shelves and whatnot made out of. 


Not much after, you found that your single finger had become your entire hand as you found yourself stroking the top of the cut-out. You could feel tears threaten to cling to your lashes as you continued to look into its inky circles. 


Then, despite the watery eyes, you found a small smile crawl onto your face as you muttered quietly under your breath, hand now placed on his forehead as you spoke, face mere inches from the cut-outs. 

 “You look so much better when I can see your eyes.”


With a sigh and a simultaneous blink of your eyes, you found yourself walking away from the cut-out and further down the hallway. 

When you reached the end and turned your body to continue down the next hallway, you found a string of curses escaping from your breath all over again at the sight of the ink lake in front of you. 


“You have got to be fucking kidding me…” You muttered under your breath irritably as you began to wade your way through the goopy black water. Then, halfway through, you saw a Bendy cut-out. Once again, this cut-out was much different compared to the ones you saw upstairs. 


Because this cut-out was being carried. 


“Excuse me, sir!?” You yelled, yet despite your speaking, the guy completely ignored you! 

“SIR!?” You shouted even louder as you rushed your body through the ink, hope clinging to your chest as you hopped out of the said substance. You figured that it may have been the man that you talked to before you fell asleep. You really wanted to thank him for watching out for you, and then maybe after you could ask for some help. 


However, when you shot your head to the left, the direction in which the said man was walking, there was nothing there. Nothing except a Bendy cut-out behind yet another pentagram. 


“What the hell is wrong with this place?” You thought to yourself as you stared at the said pentagram. So far in the time you have woken up, you have seen four pentagrams. One was where you passed out, the next near the same room where you heard that voice, the other in front of those coffins, and the fourth right where the man was walking! 

 "The fourth that the man was walking towards…” 


You began to visibly shudder, the axe being dropped to your side as every piece of the puzzle had been connected. The movement of your axe, the voice in your ear, and a literal man walking towards nothing only to have a very similar Bendy cut-out placed in position of where he would've been? 


He’s trying to tell you something, he’s trying to show you something. This man, whoever he is… He can travel through the pentagrams. 



-??? P.O.V.-


This girl seemed smarter compared to the rest. 

After all, he has seen many different shapes and sizes of people visiting this damned studio, and only a very small handful have been able to figure out the puzzle. The puzzle of Sammy Lawrence and his ability to travel “through ink”. 


Given, he can't actually travel through ink. Nobody can travel through ink like his Lord can, not even the other ink beings that curse the said studio. 

However, the inky pentagrams make Sammy feel one step closer to his lord, one step closer to his repentance. Someday, Sammy believes- no- Sammy KNOWS that his lord will free him from the ink. He has been reborn once before, and will be reborn yet again. His Lord, his GOD will free him. 


A smile crawled its way onto the former humans face as he sat himself down at his old desk, smile fitting its way onto his invisible face as he sat there and waited. Waited for yet another sheep to finds its way to his doorstep.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


After finding and flipping the two needed switches, you were able to open the gate. Upon opening, you found yourself in yet another hallway. Ahead of you was a boarded up entryway. With a sigh, you walked over to the said entrance and raised your axe over your head, landing a heavy blow onto the boards as they fell back to the ground with a sickening thud. Finally, you were in an ACTUAL room, compared to all the hallways and whatnot that you have been forced to travel through this entire adventure at least. 


You found and unsteady sigh escape your lips as you entered the dark place, eyes attempting to examine your scenery but were having difficulties in doing so. What you could however see was another old cassette tape. With a begrudging sigh, you walked up to the tape and listened to it. It was the voice of the same man as before, and he was talking about a familiar name this time around.

That bastard Joey Drew. So far. It seems like a lot of the tapes only have bad to talk about when it comes to him. 


The tape pretty much consisted of the guy bitching about Joey and his pipe installment. For a guy that made cartoon music, he sure as fuck took his job seriously. 


With a sigh and a shake of your head, you began to glance around the room yet again. 


“I need to turn the power on…” You thought to yourself as you begin to investigate. 

Soon you came upon 2 staircases, one going up and the other going down. Deciding to take the upper staircase, you found yourself in a small room. Inside it was an old projector facing out into dark nothingness along with yet another cassette. Not seeing any use for either of the things right now (As you want to turn on the power, not listen to a recording), you walked out the room and down to the opposing staircase. When you reached the said area, you immediately found your gaze on a lever. 


“Yes!” You hissed in excitement as you yanked down on the thing, making power turn on throughout the building. 


Satisfied, you began walking out and down the hallway. That is till a noise stopped you. You shot your head back, coming face to face with a pile of gurgling wet ink. 


“What the-”


Slowly, you approached it, and as you were only a few inches from touching it, you found an inky arm clasp its way around your wrist, eliciting a loud scream from your mouth. 

Without thinking, you took your axe and chopped the things arm off, making the thing groan in pain. Immediately, you found yourself backing away, horrified at what you just did. 

That thing… That being… It groaned. It feels. 

All time seemed to stop as you had found yourself having a flashback. 



“I'm so sorry, please stop!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, but to no avail, your father continued. 


Dark bruises were now littered across your delicate skin, and scars upon scars were across your legs from all the times he chucked his empty bottles at you. Your back ached from him slamming your frail body into the wall mere seconds before, and your nose screamed in agony as it bent itself in directions you didn't even know possible. 


Despite your screams of protests, your father was too drunk to care as he continued to land the tip of his leather shoed toe repeatedly into your abdomen until you found yourself spurting out blood. 


As you could feel tears begin to stream down your face, to your horror, your Father had begun to laugh. His laugh started out small, and before you knew it, he was full out cackling as he chucked his empty bottle at you which smashed itself successfully into your upper left arm, eliciting a pained scream from your throat which in turn made him stop laughing.  


Moments later, his cold brown eyes met yours, a shiver crawling up and down your back in response. 


You truly regretted leaving that toy out all those months ago. You didn't know your father would trip on it. When you had heard him arrive home, you just wanted to get away so that he wouldn't hurt you! Now though, every-time he came home he’d be hurting you. 


Your E/C eyes meeting his own, you found yourself horrified all over again as an eerily long smile fitted its way onto his lips. 


“You know Y/N… Someday you’ll end up just like me.”


“W-what?” You managed to choke out in response, making his smile disappear as he squatted down so that he was eye to eye with you. 


“My Father hurt me, my grandfather hurt my father, and my great-grandmother hurt my grandfather. Our family is not a normal family. I thought I escaped the grasps of the L/N’s fate when I met sweet sweet M/N, but of course you had to ruin that too, didn't you?” 


You found yourself shivering all over again as his face came closer to yours, mere inches apart as he breathed out his last sentences to you. 


“Someday, you’ll be just like me, you’ll be just like all of us when you hear your victims first groan of hurt. Only then my little Reaper … only then will you understand the true joy of inflicting pain on others. Only then will you start your slow decease into hell, and when you do start… you will find it to be so addicting, that in the end, you don't even give a damn about how the karma caught up to you.”


Your grasp on the axe loosened entirely as the metal clanged to the wooden floor with a loud bang. Tears were streaming down your face, and before you knew it, you found yourself curled into a little ball on the ground, rocking yourself back and forth as you completely forgot about the now dozens of ink creatures approaching your shaking form. 


Just before they could touch you, a loud roar echoed through the air. An ear piercing roar in which caused the entire building to shake in distress. 


The roar was so loud that it made the ink beings that were approaching the girls form to shatter. The roar was so loud that it made the Studio’s very own Sammy Lawrence rise out of his chair to go find the source of the noise. 

The roar was so loud that it made you shake to your very core as you willed yourself to meet your watery eyes with the towering creature that was standing protectively in front of you. 

The roar was so loud that even Bendy found himself somewhat shocked that he could even bring himself to be that aggressive. 


-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


Bendy was sitting in his throne room watching the girl through the many cutouts and pin-ups as she examined the offering tables. 

He watched as a small smile fitted its way onto her face as she strummed the nearby banjo playfully, making his perma-grin stretch just a little bit wider in response to her playfulness. After she was done, she walked over to Sammy’s cassette tape and hit the play button. 


Bendy watched her as she listened, her facial expression blank as the only sign of concern on her delicate features were her slightly arched eyebrows. 


Bendy has never actually watched another victim in the studio. The only victim that he has ever watched was Henry, and seeing how Sammy kept the exact same set-up as he did with Henry’s visit, Bendy felt confident that at the moment, the girl was in no immediate danger. 

Bendy continued to watch as Sammy crawled out of the pentagram and over to the girl. Just as the tape had finished its play, Sammy spoke threateningly into her ear. 

“I said… Can I get an AMEN?”

This made Y/N’s eyes shoot out of her skull as she shot her body back, Sammy barely able to avoid her blow as he rushed away before she could spot him. The axe landed its way into the floorboards with a sickening thud in response, making Bendy’s grin stretch even farther in entertainment at the girls strength.


“Now that was some major foreshadowing” You said aloud in shock and slight horror, making Bendy give off a short chortle in his throne room. 


After Y/N examined the other pentagram, the young woman found that there was no way to walk. Bendy waited patiently for her to see his cut-out, and when she did, he couldn't help the small laugh that escaped his lips. 

Bendy watched as your breath visibly hitched and your form stiffened at the sight of the cut-out. You didn't show it on your face, but by now, despite the short time you’ve been at the studio, Bendy has learned how to read your expressions. 


And Bendy could tell that the sight of the cut-out behind a pentagram scared you. As you should be. You really didn't react to scary situations correctly, so seeing you actually looked scared made Bendy feel somewhat relieved.


However, that entire feeling completely left the ink monster as you begin to not avoid, but approach him, approach his cut-out.

Unbeknownst to you, Bendy was on the other side of this cut-out. The cut-outs were his eyes after all. 

At this point, Bendy knew that most people would be chopping down his cut-out in horror and disgust. But you didn't. Instead, you did something completely unexpected. You… You touched his cut-out. And soon, your single finger had become your entire hand as it brushed its way up to where the cut-out’s head would be, then you did by far the most unexpected thing you had done the entire day…


You pet him. 

Bendy was so fucking confused. Why were you touching his cut-out? Why were you petting his cut-out? Before Bendy was even able to begin forming answers to his questions, he found his train of thought completely cut off at the sight in front of him. 

Tears clung to the bottom of your lashes threatening to spill over as your accepting and kind E/C eyes stared into his own. Your ink-stained H/C hair was placed perfectly around you as it seemed to catch the little light left in the room, and your ink-dotted skin seemed to glow ethereally. Your entire form seemed to glow ethereally. 

And that smile… If Bendy was still a cartoon, he could guarantee that steam would be coming out of his ears as his little bow-tie would spin in circles at the sight. You had such a beautiful smile. It wasn’t a perfect smile or a plastic smile. It was a smile that seemed to be able to convey all the emotions you felt into that one little mouth of yours. It was an honest smile, a smile that one could get high off of for days.

Up until now, Bendy realized that you were attractive. It was the sort of realization like the way guys or girls can look in a magazine and observe that somebody is attractive, but not actually feel anything towards the person in the picture. 

But right now, as Bendy’s ink flared like fire and his non-existent heart raced in his chest as his soulless being seemed to lurch forward at the very sight of you… Bendy had realized that you were more than just attractive. Bendy realized that you were easily the most beautiful being in which he has ever had the pleasure to lay his inky sight on.

Bendy was ultra-aware of your movements now, as you dragged your hand off from the top of its head down to the cut-outs forehead


Bendy didn't think his ink could burn any hotter than it already was, but it did. Because you spoke to him. Rather you spoke about him, but it was directed towards him in a sense. 

Your face mere inches from the cut-outs own as your breath bellowed across the wood, you spoke. 

“You look so much better when I can see your eyes.”

Bendy’s breath hitched at your words, your smooth hand leaving the cut-outs face as you wandered away from him. Only when you were out of sight did Bendy release that breath, his non-heart racing with an unknown emotion as he continued to watch you wander around the studio as confused as can be. 


You had just turned the power to the studio’s music department back on. Bendy had calmed down long before and was now just simply watching you in satisfaction and slight confusion. 

He started finding himself thinking of just how small you were compared to him, and how sweet your voice sounded. He ignored these thoughts for the most part (at least attempted to), and was mostly quite successful. 

That is until that Bendy saw one of the wanderers grasp their sinful hands around your wrist. You screeched in surprise, and to Bendy’s satisfaction, you had cut off the things left arm. 

However, Bendy’s satisfactory joy was short lived as he watched from his cut-out as your expression became blank and your lively eyes became dull. Something was wrong. Something was VERY wrong, and if you didn't snap yourself out of it soon, you were gonna die.


From nearby puddles, even more fellow ink beings began to rise, and all the while, you looked as if you were in someplace else entirely, eyes glazed over as you curled into yourself. Your small and cute form had begun shivering in fear at not what was in front of you, but what was inside of you. 

Before Bendy knew what he was doing, anger overtook him. And with his anger, with Bendy’s true anger came pain. The ink enveloped itself around Bendy’s entire body as his already tall 8 foot form grew to be massive. 

His arms became bulky and strong while his legs were kept small and weak, and his classic smile disappeared entirely as his usual grin became his ink covered rows upon rows of teeth. 

Bendy was no longer in his demon form, Bendy was in his beast form, and when Bendy was in his beast form, he was driven on all instinct and small thoughts alone. 

Whenever Bendy found himself to be in his beast form, he usually found himself in a semi-conscious state. When he gained his full consciousness back in his demon form, he generally would find himself awaking in a pile of rubble and destruction. 


Usually, his beastly mind only had destructive ideas on it. That’s why it was so strange to Bendy that violence was not the thing on his mind, and was instead something else entirely. 


Protect Y/N. 

That was all that was going through the beast’s mind as he teleported himself through his ink to her location. 

Finally, Bendy had his opening.

Chapter Text

-Sammy’s P.O.V.-


A loud roar echoed throughout the entire music department (and possibly the whole studio), disrupting Sammy from his daily music listenings. Turning off his offices radio with an overly exasperated groan, Sammy marched out of his office, thoughts in his head abuzz with questions. 

Who was like that? Who can roar like that? Who can get in without anyone noticing like that?

Then it hit him. 


Only his lord could do such a thing. Only his magnificent one and only God would ever be capable of sneaking in unnoticed!


Excitement made its way into Sammy as he soon found himself running towards the noise rather than away, thoughts of his lord killing in front of his eyes sending his heart aflutter with anticipation. After all, it’s not every day one can see his god kill! Sammy wondered what form his lord was in at the moment. With the strength of that roar, Sammy wouldn't be shocked if his dear lord was in his godly form! 

The inky heavens themselves blessed his lord with such a changing and perfect body. His ink malleable and free to reform itself into another shape entirely. His Lord and gods purest form is that of his godly form, when ink completely overtakes him till he turns into nothing but a beast, everything he destroys being purified all over again!

And to think… Today Sammy will be able to witness it!

Sammy ran through the busted ink pipe over his office door, and down past the clinic, making his way to the unopened gate. Using his very own remote control to open the said gate, Sammy came face to face with his Lord Bendy himself! Given, his lord couldn’t see where he was standing, but the fact that such a filthy being like Sammy was allowed to be in the same room as his lord… It meant more to him than anything else. Maybe his Lord could purify him just by being in the same room as him! Maybe his Lord could free him from the ink if he were to ask!


Sammy decided that he would be approaching his Lord quite soon, but first, he wanted to watch his Lord kill. After all, it really really is a very rare thing to see. 

Sammy watched as his Lord finished off his roar in fascination and awe. When his Lord was done with his roar, the mighty being turned his body over to the corner of the wall that he was just in front of seconds prior. 


“What is he doing?” Sammy questioned himself in wonder. It was then that Sammy saw her. That little human woman that had broken into the studio. She looked as if she was hyperventilating, however, it was hard for Sammy to be sure since he could barely see the humans form. Only her head and one of her shoulders were exposed for Sammy’s eyes.


With his massive godly body, his Lord rotated his position around to face the girl. Sickly glee swelled in Sammy’s abdomen as his great ruler began to approach the human girl with the hopes of seeing him kill her. 


The girls eyes were bulging out of her sockets as he approached, only making Sammy more excited as his Lords face was mere inches from hers, making the girls eyes widen even impossibly further. 


However, instead of killing her, Sammy’s Lord did something… Unexpected. 

To both of their shocks, his Lord Bendy began to sniff her, then, as quick as his face got to hers, his Lord pulled back. As if the situation couldn't get more odd than it already was, a small almost inaudible low whine reverberated from his Lords chest as he sat his massive body down in front of her, head hung low in a submissive posture. 


Now both Sammy and the girl’s eye(socket)s were wide and jaws agape in shock and confusion. 


“Why isn't he killing her!? Why is my lord just sitting there!?”


The human girl seemed just as confused as Sammy, however, Sammy refused to take notice of her expressions as all his attention was solely on his one and only, waiting to witness his next move. 


A minute passed, then two. Before either of them knew it, his Lord’s very long and slimy black tongue darted out of his mutated canine like mouth. Sammy assumed that his Lord was planning on perhaps eating her, or possibly checking to see if she was indeed a human under all that black. But he did the complete opposite. 

He licked her cheek. 

Then, as quick as his Lord had arrived, he darted his tongue back into his mouth and had left through an ink portal, leaving both Sammy and the girls jaws hanging to the ground. 


-Your P.O.V.-


“What the fuck was that!? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT!?”


Your heart thumping a million miles an hour from the near death experience, you found yourself bringing your hand up to your cheek. As you pulled your hand back, you came face to palm with a slimy like substance that had a see through black sheen. Sniffing it, your jaw practically dropped to the ground all over again as you registered the smell as ink. 


“Did an ink monster… Just lick me?”  You thought to yourself with evident confusion on your face. Sure, the saliva of the being could have been poisoned or something of the like, but that didn't seem very likely since you’d think the effects would be immediate, otherwise that wouldn't be a very useful weapon for the given situation. 


“And his growl destroyed all the other ink beings…” You thought to yourself as you surveyed the now much more inky room. 

Which brings you to the conclusion that an ink monster had not only saved your life, but licked you, and as if it couldn't get any weirder, it showed submission towards you by bowing its head. 

What the actual fuck?


-Sammy’s P.O.V.-


Sammy closed the gate and wandered back into his office, mind abuzz with theories as to why his Lord didn’t kill her. After all, his Lord is supposed to be ruthless, and selfish, and a complete killing machine! He’s said it himself in the past that he’s a sadist with sociopathic tendencies for crying out loud! Just what was going on!?


The sight of his Lord protecting a human like that not only confused, but scared the ink being to no end. His Lord, his god, wasn't supposed to be acting like this! Sammy knew that when his Lord was in his Godly form that he could be somewhat more instinctual and animalistic, but this just wasn't okay! Not for him at least. His Lord was perfect. His Lord was better than this. Sammy had to make sure that his Lord would continue to be better than this. 




He has to get rid of that dirty human girl.

Chapter Text

-Sammy's P.O.V.-


I held both my mother and fathers hands tighter as we made our way down the sidewalk. An excited and naive smile fitted its way onto my five year old face as my parents swung me back and forth. 

We were on our way to the park, and I was so excited! It had been a long time since we had been to the park, and I practically begged my parents to bring me despite both of them having to work that day. Both deciding to call in sick, they had decided to bring me to the park instead. 


My mother and father were kind people. Charitable people. They seemed like the perfect couple, and in truth, they really were the perfect pair. Childhood sweethearts that managed to stay together throughout college, despite the assumptions that women received for seeking higher education. They encouraged one another and treated each other equally, and right after graduating, my father proposed to my Mother which she instantly said yes to. They were made for each other. 


Unfortunately, my mother had a number of miscarriages. After her fourth miscarriage, both her and my father had decided that if the 5th time didn't work, then they would stop trying to have a child. Fortunately though, they had me. Their only child Sammy Lawrence in which they had loved with all their hearts. With my golden-blonde locks from my father, and my bright blue eyes from my mother, many described me as the perfect representation of my parents love. Naturally, my mother and father couldn't agree more with those statements. 


Things were perfect, times were perfect, my childhood was perfect! However, all that had changed at that day at the park. 


“Here we are Sammy!” My mother chirped excitedly as she released my hand. My father followed along right after. My parents then took each other's hands as they smiled down tenderly at me. 


“Go on, have fun son. And remember…”


“Be safe, and don't talk to strangers!” I yelled back enthusiastically before my father had a chance to respond. This made my Dad give a deep and throaty chuckle. 


“Have fun kiddo” He said with a ruffle of my hair, and with that, I was off onto the playground. 


The slide was its classy shiny silver metallic that seemed to glow in the summer heat. The monkey bars stood tall and firm, and the teeter totter, although showing much age with its chipped red paint, stayed straight and sturdy. With the sun glowering harshly down everyone's backs, the only solace that one receives from its rays was from the forest that was directly behind the playground. 


I had begun sliding down the slide, all the while laughing. I had continued doing this for who knows how long, but I stopped when I heard the faint sound of… Sobbing? 


I shot my head back towards the forest, and just stared. It seemed like the sound was originating from there. Shooting my head back at my parents, I saw that they were looking into each-others eyes instead of watching me like they usually did. 


“I guess stepping away for a little while wouldn't hurt anyone…” I thought to myself as I brought my feet into the bushy evergreens. This was my first mistake. It took me a while, but I was able to find the source of the noise. 


There, hunkering behind a rock was a very tall and wide man. He looked around my parents ages, maybe a little younger. He had unkempt brown hair and a scruffy face. He also had a very pronounced under-bite, and his eyes were very small and very drooped. His clothes consisted of a dirty and red stained winter jacket that was much too large for his already large form, torn up loose fitting jeans, sandals, a red and white baseball cap, and then a yellow-stained white tank top. Warning bells probably should've gone off in my head, but I was too little to even understand that the man was probably very dangerous. That was my second mistake, and my third mistake was deciding to start a conversation with the man. 


“Why are you crying?” I asked him which made the man all but shoot up into the air. His wide eyes met my own, and that's when I noticed that the right of his face looked as if it had been melted off. The color of his skin was a mix of purples and red, and it was completely scarred. Seeing this, instead of being scared, I took a band-aid out of my pocket and handed it to him. 


“Here. This should help your boo-boo!” I cheerfully explained with a smile. And that… That was my fourth mistake. 

I had begun visiting the man in the woods every Saturday. He always wore the same clothes and they always had the same stains. 


After a few months of meeting up with the man, I had started realizing that he seemed… Different. When we socialized, he never actually looked me in the eyes. He never really joined in to the conversations unless if he was asked a question which then he would usually give short answers to. His facial expressions never really changed, and he was very stoic. If I was late to the meeting spot, he’d get very upset. It scared me at first, but I figured out that he must have anger issues like this one kid in my class. 


Finally, after about four months of getting to know him, I had decided to ask him about why his clothes were so stained. 

“Hey Mister?” I asked, making the man cock his head ever so slightly, signaling to be that he was listening. 


“Why do you have all those red stains on your coat?” By my questions, the mans eyes lit up and he began talking. That was my fifth mistake. 


“Liquid red is so pretty. It spills out the liquid red, the liquid red shines in the sun. Liquid red comes from everything; bunnies, kitties, puppies, birdies, and much much more. Liquid red is in everything. Such a pretty red, such a pretty liquid.” His eyes were wide as he spoke, a large grin stretching across his face. He started looking over at me, then stopped himself as he put his eyes back to the ground, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as tears sprung into his eyes. 


“W-when we first met… T-the reason why I was crying was cuz… Cuz someone called me a monster...” My eyes bulged out of my head at the mans revelation to me. 


“Why would someone call you a monster, Mister!? You're so nice!” I exclaimed as I stood up off the base of our rock, arms out as I faced him. Averting his eyes yet again, the man spoke. 


“Because they couldn't appreciate their liquid red like I did.”


At the time, I had no idea what the mans liquid red was, but what I did understand was that he loved it. I thought I should be a good friend, after all, I wanted to make him happy!

That was my 6th mistake. 

“Would… Would it make you happier if we got you some liquid red?” I asked him with a cock of my head, and at this statement, the mans eyes met mine for the first time as a smile stretched across his face yet again. 


“I think… I think I could get the liquid red from your home. Can I visit your house?”


My eyes lit up at the idea of a friend coming to my house. I gave him our address, and he told me that he would stop by for dinner that night. I didn't argue, figuring that he was just sensitive about his scars and didn't wish to attract attention while it was bright out. Boy was I wrong. 




Screams awoke me from my slumber as I shot out of my bed. Looking over at my barely able to read classic shaped alarm clock that was illuminated by the moonlight alone, I saw that the time read 11:30. 


I rolled my eyes and curled back up into my covers, till loud sobs had begun to travel into my ears. Becoming worried for my parents, I climbed out of bed, feeling my way through our hallway and down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, I saw that our kitchen lights were on, and inside, a familiar figure stood. 


“Mister!” I yelled excitedly as I ran into the kitchen. However, when Mister turned over to face me, I soon realized that he wasn't Mister. He once was, but not anymore. 


There was a liquidy red thing in his hand, it reminded me of the color of steak. There was a large bite taken out of it, like what one would do with an apple. His hands and zipped up winter coat were coated in what I could only assume was liquid red. 


Muffled screams could be heard, and looking over, my eyes met my mothers teared up own as she struggled to get out of her bindings that kept her still on our kitchen chair. 


“M-mother?” I stumbled out. Tears began to stream from her familiar blue eyes as they seemed to speak to me, seemed to scream at me. 



“Don't look”



Looking down, I came face to face with my fathers torn open dead body. His intestines sprawled across the ground like a loose spool of thread, his kidneys laid out on display like a sushi restaurant. Then, there was his chest, which was all but a cavity where a heart should've been. 


Looking up at the object in Mister’s hand then down at my lifeless father, I had finally understood. 


My 7th and final mistake for my mother.


I screamed.

Chapter Text

-Sammy’s P.O.V.-


After that nights horrific events, I had become an orphan. To my dismay, the man who had killed my parents was able to get away. A small part of me wanted to be thankful for Mister’s quick escape since he was my friend for so long, but a larger part of me wanted him to be shot down dead for ruining my perfect and happy life that I had with both of my loving parents. 


Because of my parents deaths, the police had decided to move me in with a family friend. He had piercing silver eyes that seemed to have more sclera than iris. He had a large nose and a thin mustache along with crew cut brown hair. Small and nearly nonexistent wrinkles adjourned his forehead and he had pencil thin eyebrows. He looked to be in his early 20’s. 


I later learned that this man’s name was Joey Drew. 

When I was little, Joey was very nice. He had a cartoon studio that he’d allow me to visit quite often. However, I always felt like something was off with Joey, something was… Extremely abnormal. He was kind, but he never seemed like he was capable of having empathy for anyone, no matter the situation. Nobody else but me could truly notice this, after all I lived with the guy. 


As I got older, Joey got colder. By 1952, at the age of 13, I had begun to work at Joey Drew’s Animation Studio, where they not only made animations, but cartoons as well. It was at that studio in which I had discovered my love for music. I got private lessons, and finally, at the age of 15, Joey made me his music director. I was overjoyed! Not to mention, I took my work very seriously!


After my promotion, Joey and I started talking more. We’d even eat meals together at home. Given, the plates of food that he’d make for me practically looked like burnt ink, but it was edible nonetheless. We’d go see movies together, and sometimes go drinking together. However, despite all that we did with one another, our relationship was always just so stiff and formal. Becoming closer with Joey… This was my 8th mistake. 

It was in 1959 that I knew something was terribly wrong. I had stopped growing. My mind was always growing, but my body… It hadn’t grown since I was 15. I had baby fat on my face still and I was kept at a staggering 5’4. I had no muscles or facial hair, and I still weighed less than 100 pounds. When I decided to approach Joey about this, concern evident across my features, the man ended up showing me something… extraordinary. 

It was a small and dimly lit wooden room in his studio just like any other. However, this room was not like any other. 

There were two tables back to back with each other off to the side of the wall that was filled to the brim with test tubes, beakers, beaker racks, magnifying glasses, prongs, a Bunsen burner, and 3 microscopes along with some lamps. To the right of the door was a bookshelf that was stuffed to the brim with books at the bottom, and above it were liquids and well preserved organs in containers with labels on each one telling you what it was. The most shocking parts of the room though was both the ginormous hand drawn pentagram in the center of the room, and the chained cuffs in the corner that had pliers, candles, whips, lighters, hammers, screwdrivers, nails, etc. to the side of the said chains. My jaw dropped as my eyes shot over at Joey whose own eyes were as lifeless as can be. It was like… The room didn’t bother him. He was emotionless.

“What… What the hell’s wrong with you!?” I screeched at him. He just looked over at me with those dead silver eyes, then spoke. 


“Nothing is wrong with me. What is wrong is society” 


“What in the name of God are you talking about Mr. Drew!?” By my response, Joey chuckled a very fake laugh as he walked over to one of the tables, then began to mix liquids together as he continued talking to me from behind. 


“We humans- well- most humans live off of the idea that you can’t be alive without God and faith in him. Despite what one would think, I believe that faith in god is a double edged sword. On one end, it allows you to have comfort in knowing that you are safe and protected, while the other end forces you to do things that you may otherwise not wish to do in order to get to heaven. A good example would be the spread of Christianity, where different countries would send people off in order to “change” others religions by threatening, torturing, stealing, raping, or killing people who weren’t like them. We did it all in the name of god, therefore the people who should be considered criminals were actually hailed as righteous. Hell, America is a country that was founded by the spread of Christianity, the natives were the true owners of this land before we selfishly took it away.”


“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, making Joey give an annoyed sigh as he swirled more substances together. 


“It’s just an example to show you how powerful beliefs in a non-existent being can be.” Joey explained to me. 


“Still don’t see the point in why you told me that…” I sighed. Whatever Joey was making he had finished, as a black bubbling substance was now held in his hand. 


“It has to do with everything Sammy. Now drink.”

I looked down at the beaker with the substance inside of it, then back up at Joey who had a blank expression. I knew that the man was the King of poker faces, meaning that I wouldn’t be able to tell if what was inside the tube was good or bad. 


“What is it?” I asked, making him sigh again. 


“An antidote. Your growth depletion had been bothering you, right?” Joey asked. He wasn’t wrong about it bothering me, but like hell was I gonna drink some random substance that I just watched a sadistic devil worshiper make. 


“What are the side effects?” I asked him. Joey responded quite honestly if you ask me. 


“Possibility of spasms, shortness of breath, achy muscles, diarrhea, nausea, increase in sweating, sudden coughing, yada-yada. However, it’ll fix your problem. If you continue to drink it, then I can guarantee that you will have positive results, and with time, you won’t ever need to drink it again.” 


Joey was honest with me, I could see a small glint in his eyes as he spoke. It was hope. He had hope for me to get better. With a smile, I agreed that i’d take it, and I downed the black liquid. 

That was my 9th mistake. 

My throat burned and my entire body had been lit with an unseen fire. My legs gave out on me as my hands began to scratch and pry at my throat, hoping to receive that much needed air. 


“What… What did you DO to me?” I rasped out. Joey only rolled his eyes as he went back over to the tables. Yet again, from behind me, he spoke. 


“I fixed you. I never said that i’d fix your growth you dumbass, you just assumed without confirmation.”


“B-but you sai-”


“Said what?” Joey cut in as he turned over to face me, a new concoction in his hand. I tried to find words to responded with, but a found none since I knew full well that the man was right. He said he had an antidote, but never actually said what it was for. He only said that it would fix me. As if Joey knew I had no response, he continued with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. 

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. It seems like you have made so many mistakes in your poor, short, and pitiful life. Befriending an autistic cannibal which in turn killed your parents, working at this hell-bound studio which in turn turned you into a snobby brat, trusting me enough to eat the meals I gave you which in turn had stopped your growth, and finally this. Drinking a strange liquid that in turn will eat your organs alive. Sammy Lawrence, there is only one word I can use to describe you, and that is an idiot. When will you not fuck up?” 


Tears streamed down my face as Joey continued, now crouched down a foot in front of me. I was too worn to even try and hurt him, so I just layed there and stared into his lifeless and cold eyes as he continued. 


“What I was saying about religion earlier Sammy… Is that Gods are false creatures, yet billions upon billions of people worship them. If gods are fake, and people worship the fake… Then what do you think people would do if Gods were made real? Physical beings with endless powers, and I, their supposed prophet, gifted with immortality. How do you think people would react? How do you think people would treat us? How much power do you think we could have at our disposal?” 


“You're insane” I rasped out, making the screw-loose man in front of me tilt his head back as he began to cackle. 


“Insane, sane, what’s the difference? They're both two sides of the same coin. Now then Sammy, I want you to drink this.” Joey held out a clear yellowish liquid in a beaker that seemed to sparkle. I looked down at it, then back up at him, and scoffed. 


“Why in the fuck would I drink that?” I asked him. This made him give me a sadistic grin as he responded. 


“What do you have to lose?” 

Realizing that he had a good point, I took the said product and drank it. As soon as it made its way down my throat, the pain and burning had ceased, right along with Joey’s smile. 


Taking the two empty beakers, Joey walked back over to the table, setting both objects down with a clink. 

“You will now be working from 8 am to 12 am, 16 hour shifts. You will work for 7 days a week, and your pay will stay the same.”

“Why in the fuck would I do that!? Why do you need me to stay so late!? Why do you think that i’d continue to work here after you fucking poisoned me!?” 


“Simple” Joey stated as he turned over at me. 


“If you wish to live, then you will need to continue to drink the clear yellow liquid. It’s the antidote for the antidote. No doctors can fix you, that I guarantee. They’d call you a lost cause, considering your organs are now all failing. Stay with me my ageless one, and we will discover immortality together. And someday… Someday we will be sitting on the throne above it all. What do you say?” 


Joey held out his hand to me, shaking it somewhat back and forth in an attempt to tell me what to do. 

That’s when I made my tenth and final mistake. 

I shook his hand. 

And with that, I made a deal with the devil himself.

Chapter Text

-Sammy's P.O.V.-


We did it. 


We had finally did it. 

I watched as the small and familiar creature in front of me begun rubbing his inky pie-cut eyes, a small groan escaping his lips as his ink continued to solidify. The sight was horrifying to say the least. A three dimensional cartoon character that looks nothing like a human. 


“He’s coming to! Sammy, grab the rope!” Joey’s command made me stop mid thought as I ran over to grab the rope, when I returned, I found the little ink being to be staring at the both of us, as if examining us. 


I could feel my face scrunch up due to how uncomfortable I felt. I wouldn’t be shocked if Joey was doing the same.  

After a few more seconds of silent awkwardness, Joey spoke. 

“You… What is your name?” He asked the literal ink demon, and this seemed to make him think. A minute later, the being responded to Joey’s question in rich latin. 

Quia non habent nomen. ” If I was uncomfortable before, well… It’s nothing compared to how uncomfortable I feel now. He’s just so… Unnatural. Sinful. Gven, it’s not his fault that he came to life and instead is that bastard Joey Drew’s fault, but still. 


Quid enim mali est apud facies tua? ” I could feel pity swell for him as I knew what would happen next. 

“Seems like the summoning didn't work. We’ll have to try again another time. For now just tie up the thing.” Joey told me, I nodded then began my approach. 


After some exquisite knotting skills and a few tugs, I had successfully bound the little creature together. 


Once done, me and Joey left. 

After the awkward one sided conversation, the pitiful creature didn’t speak at all. Imagine my shock when six days later, a cheery and cartoon like voice had escaped from his mouth. 


“Why do you both look scared?” He asked both me and Mr. Drew. My eyes shot out of my sockets with shock at hearing him speak english, and after tossing the tray of his food across the room, I got the fuck away. That psycho Joey can handle this one, because i’m outta here!


Speaking of “I’m outta here!”, there’s Wally right now. 


I waved hi to the familiar repairman as I continued to run down the hall till I reached my music room, locking the door with a satisfying sigh. 


On auto-mode, I walked my way over to my piano and began playing, mind abuzz with questions. 


Why can he talk? How did he learn english so quickly? How is he able to be alive? Why did Joey create him? What does Joey plan on doing with him? What does Joey planning on doing to him? Will he…


I hit the wrong piano key, which in turn immediately snapped my mind out of it. 

Knowing Joey… He’ll kill him. Meaning that little ink monster is just as much of Joey’s victim as I. 


Maybe… Maybe I should be nicer to him. 

It had been 11 days since his birth, and at the moment, I was showing the little devil darlin’ look alike one of his comic books. He seemed really interested in it!


“Bendy?” He asked with a quizzical expression, making me laugh in response as I held it closer to his face. 


“Yup! You're Bendy the Dancin’ Demon!” I exclaimed cheerfully, only for my expression to twist into a frown. “Well… At least you were supposed to be…” I expressed solemnly when I remembered that Joey will kill him because of his imperfections. 


I felt like shit, knowing that he would die because he isn't perfect… That’s just wrong. 


“What’s wrong?” He suddenly asked me. 


“What a little sweetheart, checking in on me like that” I thought to myself with a sigh. I might as well just tell him Joey’s plans, right? What harm could it do considering he’s practically already dead. 

“Well it’s just that… You're supposed to be just like Bendy, and… You're not.”

He cocked his head to my left. 


“Like Bendy from the comics?” He asked, making me nod my head once as I spoke next. “Yeah. That's why Mr. Drew is gonna be getting rid of you in 20 days from now. A reverse ritual or something.”


His eyes shot out of his head just like a cartoon character. It would've elicited a little laugh from me in any other situation, but I just felt so guilty, so… dirty. He wasn’t like us, he was so much better than us! Just look at Joey’s sins compared to a literal demon! Compared to Joey, this little guy could easily be considered a god. 

It was the day before his reverse ritual, and I had a tray of the demon boy’s food in my hands. When I arrived at the door, I could hear Joey stuttering. Curious as to what could make a guy like him stutter, I opened the door. 


“How ya’ doin’ this fine mornin’?” The demon asked me as he made a little hat made of ink pop out of his head from nowhere. He took it off and held it to his chest like a greeting, giving a little bow as he did so. He made the hat disappear right afterwards. 


My jaw dropped as my eyes bulged. 

“Joey! I-it’s Bendy!”


And I believe that is where my infatuation for the little ink demon started. He was able to overcome all of the obstacles that was set up along his paths with ease. He was powerful, cunning, intelligent, and an overall completely psychotic individual. He kills ruthlessly, destroys ruthlessly, and takes ruthlessly. A small part of me had always wanted to be like that. Ever since my parents deaths… Something inside me had changed. Something that was not good, something that I had tried to desperately ignore, but after all these years… 


I couldn't ignore it anymore. I couldn't ignore my need to spill blood. 

And with the failing of Boris’s ritual, that was all that it took for me to make my final push onto the other side of the coin. 

For many many years after I had become an ink monster, I desperately wanted to be freed from my said prison. I desperately wanted to be free again so I could slaughter on my own. However, after 90 some years, I had made a very simple realization. 

Home is where the heart is. Despite me desiring my freedom, ink is where my God is, and I am covered in the said substance, I am coated in the said substance, I have BECOME the said substance. Why would I want to leave? 


Insanity and sanity may just be two sides of the same coin, but even so, both sides look so much different from one another. If insanity was such an easy push to fall into, then how hard would it be to regain your sanity, regain your hope? 

This… I wasn't sure if I wanted to find this out. The pain was so bad by the push alone, and all the obstacles that I had to go through till I reached the bottom were absolutely agonizing. In order to get out of the hole, I would need to confront all those said obstacles once again. In order to flip back to sane, i'd have to torture myself.

Why not take relish in what I already have?

You know, Joey really was right. 

I should just embrace the sane feeling of being insane.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


You really didn’t want to, but you knew that if you wanted to survive, then you must get up. You could just tell that your panic attack had yet to cease, but what other choice did you have? Wait and possibly be attacked by those ink beings again? No way. 


Sitting yourself up, axe in hand, you made your way back up the opposing staircase, and to your shock, the light was on. What was once nothing but a black space between pieces of wood was now a large stage that had many orchestral instruments on it. You recognized all of them from back when Henry had his orchestra phase. 


“Bass, drum, violin…” You listed off a few in your head as you grazed your eyes from right to left at the sight in front of you. However, you found yourself pausing as your eyes landed on a lone Bendy cutout. For one reason or another, the cutout reminded you somewhat of the monster that had just saved you. 


You quickly shook that idea out of your head. It may have seemed like the ink being saved you, sure. And all signs do point towards the fact that they did indeed save your life, but what motive could it possibly have to help you? In all honesty, there could be thousand of motives for the ink creature, but you highly doubted that a motivation for that guy came from the goodness of its heart. The ink thing seemed just a little to… vicious for such pure intentions. Although nonetheless, you shouldn't doubt without solid proof. 


With a sigh, you turned over to the cassette and pressed play as you began to listen to the audio log. 



”Every day the same strange thing happens,I’ll be up here in my booth, the band will be swinging, and suddenly Sammy Lawrence just comes marching in and shuts the whole thing down. Tells us all to wait in the hall.” 



“Sammy Lawrence… I think that was the name of the musical director, according to that sign” You thought to yourself as the tape continued. 



“Then I hear him. He starts up my projector, and he dashes from the projector booth and down to the recording studio like the little devil himself was chasing behind. 



“Well, he’s not so little anymore” You whispered with a scoff as the tape continued its recording. 



“Few seconds later, the projector turns off. But Sammy, he doesn't come out for a long time. This man is weird. Crazy weird. 

I have half a mind to talk to Mr. Drew about all this. But then again, I have to admit. Mr. Drew has his own peculiarities.”



The tape finished off with its classical whir, leaving you standing there in silence with the fact in your head that some random dude just sat in a room with nothing to do for a long time every single day. Was life really that boring before technology? You didn’t think so, after all, you left your phone in your car when you got here. Not like you needed it for entertainment. 


“But maybe I needed it to call for help…” You thought with a regretful sigh as you turned your body over to the projector. It took you some work and a bit of fiddling, but before you knew it, the projector was up and running. There, on a familiar white sheet, the cartoon began its play. It must've been a Halloween special of some kind, as Bendy the dancing demon along with a skull popped out from behind a grave simultaneously, looked around for one another, then retreated back down. You watched this clip for what felt like hours with a bored expression upon your face. The ink was starting to dry, and with its dryness, it began to flake. You sincerely hope that the substance didn’t stain your H/C hair, because that would just suck ass. 


Once the said video was finished, you decided that there was no point in sticking around. At the moment, there was nothing useful to be found here. So, you left the room as you searched for a new find that could hopefully help you to leave this smudge of a studio. 

Walking down the stairs, you opened a nearby door to see a pool table inside. Besides recreational activities, the table really didn't have much use. With a sigh, you decided to keep the door open so you don’t get confused later on if you checked the room or not. 


Making your way back over to the staircase that you turned the power on from before, you read an exit sign. Running through the lake of ink, you found the the door was locked and would not budge. You felt like you were gonna cry in all honesty, as you felt your hope of escape be squashed into a billion pieces. This just felt like a huge middle finger.


With another sigh, you walked out of the puddle, your legs soaked to the bone yet again as you made your way back up the stairs. Deciding to go further into the main room, your heart practically leapt out of your chest as you saw that the gate from earlier was now open, revealing a long hallway that had a Bendy cutout at the end of it which was partially covered by a pipe that was spurting black ink. You could feel a groan itch at your throat with the knowledge that you would most definitely have to walk through that. You really didn’t feel like getting more of that shit on you, especially not right now. 

With your face staying blank, you calmly turned your body over to the other entryway, which had a door that you assumed led to the music room. Just as you were about to turn the doorknob, a melodious sound stopped you. 

This song was a heart-stringer, as it seemed to speak of all the grief, loneliness, and misery that the player must've gone through their entire life. There was light parts, then dark parts, as the piano’s song seemed to lift you up and down over and over again. You could feel the familiar pangs of empathy shoot through your heart throughout the song. 

Deciding to wait till the song was done in fear of interrupting the said player, you sat yourself right against the door. 


Just as the music stopped, you began to sit up, but were unable to finish in doing so as the door was flung open by what was most likely the player of the sad song. 


Looking up, you were met face to face with the little Devil himself.









Or rather, face to mask of the little devil. 


In front of you stood a human shaped ink monster that seemed very similar to the ones that attacked you before. It had light yellow overalls and suspenders on, and no shirt underneath, making you assume that it was most likely male. He had black shoes on, along with an ink stained mask of Bendy the Dancin’ Demon. The mouths upper row of teeth was cut out, along with most of the bottom row. All that you could see was a short row of the masks lower teeth and an endless black void which opened as he spoke to you. Immediately, you recognized the voice. 

“Why if it isn't the little black sheep” He hissed as he peered down at your fallen over form. 

“You're the man from the tape…” You muttered under your breath to yourself. However, he seemed to hear this as an obsidian black smile showed up along his mouth. 


“That I am. And might I just say…” He said as he crouched down, his face hovering mere inches away from your own. 


“Your eyes… That eye color… It seems oh so familiar.”


An involuntary shudder went down your spine from the mans words. 


“T-thank you?” You stumbled out then continued, figuring that maybe a conversation may ease some of the awkwardness. He didn't seem hostile… Yet. 


“W-well, M-my grandmother said that they were just like my Grandfather’s…” You stumbled out as you could feel your body leaning back farther and farther while still being seated, as his face grew closer and closer. 


Then, he cocked his head to the side. He was so close you could feel his inky smelling breath bellow across your face. 

“I see… Well then, who was your Grandfather?” He asked with another cock to his head. Gulping down your nerves, you looked up at the man with a blank face. It’s best not to show fear. You were ashamed of yourself for your slip-up with this. 


Now confident yet again, you spoke. 


“Gf/N Stein”


Everything grew silent, and after a minute or so pause, the inky man spoke once again. 




“Are you possibly related to a… Henry Stein?”

Chapter Text

-Sammy’s P.O.V.-


From his question, a soft smile spread across the girls face. 


“I really do have his eyes, don't I?” She asked as she looked up at Sammy, her E/C orbs twinkling as she squinted them into a smile. Sammy could feel his anger swell up into his abdomen with the realization that this already sinful girl is in fact related to an even more sinful creature. 

Henry Stein…

Before Sammy knew it, he found his mind being brought back 27 some years ago. 



Sammy was finishing tying the knots on the captured Henry who was slowly waking up. With his axe in his right hand, Sammy began to speak.  


"There we go. Nice and tight. We wouldn't want our sheep roaming away now, would we?” Sammy said to nothing, only to respond to himself thoughtfully a moment later. 

“No, we wouldn’t”


By those words, Henry had begun to struggle in his binds. However, Sammy dutifully ignored this as he continued talking. 


“I must admit, I an honored that you came all the way down here to visit me.” He said in a soft tone, only to lace his next sentence with fake guilt as he spoke. 


“It almost makes what i'm about to do seem cruel.”

“It’s not like you have to do it. Whatever it is you're planning…” Henry muttered the last sentence quietly to himself with a downcast head, hoping that maybe the ink being in front of him could be convinced to not harm him. 

“But the believers must honor their savior. I must have him notice me.” Sammy responded as his form retreated from Henry to set down the axe, only to come back face to face with him a moment later. 


Anger swelled inside Henry as he shot his head up at Sammy. 


“You bastard…” Henry hissed out. However, his words seemed to have an odd effect on the ink being in front of him, as Sammy’s face was directly in front of his. 


“Wait. You look so familiar to me… that face…” Just as quick as Sammy had begun observing the man in front of him, he stopped. He had a schedule to stick to after all. Shaking his head, Sammy managed to snap himself out of it. 


“Not now. For our lord is calling to us, little sheep. The time of sacrifice is at hand!” He said as he backed his body away from the pissed off Henry, who only stared at the man in a mix of anger and disturbance. Starting to speak again, Sammy had begun to near Henry all over. 


“And then, I will finally be freed from this.. prison. This inky.. dark.. abyss I call a body.” He leaned into Henry, finger to his masky lips. 


“Shhhhh.. Quiet! Listen! I can hear him. Crawling above. Crawling!”

At these words, Henry had begun to shoot his head around, and sure enough. Up above, uneven footsteps could be heard. 


“Let us begin. The ritual must be completed!” Sammy spoke as he waved his arms in and out of his form, head shooting around at the ceiling. 


“Soon he will hear me…” 

Then, leaning into Henry, face mere inches apart yet again, he spoke. 


“He will set us free.”

By these words, Sammy had begun to walk through a door to Henry’s left. Once he was out of sight, Henry had begun to struggle. Sammy could see this, much to his ignorance, as he had turned on the speakers and began the summoning for his Lord. 

"Sheep, sheep, sheep, It's time for sleep. Rest your head. It's time for bed. In the morning, you may wake. Or in the morning, you'll be dead.”

A clanking noise echoed the studio, and before Henry had knew it, the gate a dozen or so feet in front of him had begun to open. Terrified, Henry had begun to struggle even more. 


“Hear me, Bendy! Arise from the darkness! Arise and claim my offering! Free me! I beg you! I summon you, ink demon! Show your face and take this tender sheep!”


Then, just as everything started, it had all stopped. There was no noise, no sign of the supposed ink demon that was supposed to take Henry as a sacrifice. 


“I don't understand.. Bendy, I am your prophet! Speak to me!” Sammy gasped out in desperation, yet nothing happened. 


Both Sammy and Henry had itched. They felt, they knew, that something more was supposed to happen. It was as if they have replayed this scenario millions of times before, but to their confusion, there deja vu was left unconfirmed. Unsure, Sammy had stepped out of the room and back into the room in which Henry had resided. They both looked at one another, each sharing an unspoken understanding and confusion. 


Then, to their shock, something completely different happened. 

The splatter of inky feet could be heard, making both Henry and Sammy shoot their eyes over at the gate. 

There, making its way over to the pair, was an 8 foot tall ink demon. 

At this point, Sammy had no clue what was wrong with him, nor did he know why his hands had begun moving to untie the knot in which kept Henry bound to the chair. For some reason, despite being his prophet, Sammy felt like the demon would harm him, kill him, kill Sammy instead of Henry. 


Releasing the said man from his binds, Sammy leaned into Henry’s ear and spoke a word that he would've never thought that he would hear escape his lips in this given situation. 


Then, retreating back to the safety of his audio room, Sammy watched through a crack in the wood as the Demon called Bendy had begun his chase. 



With every single fiber of his being, Sammy despised that bastard Henry Stein. That man, that disgusting mistake, made Sammy betray his Lord, his GOD! And to think, that disgusting man’s own kin, own family, had the audacity to wander back into his Lord’s studio and… taint his very Lord!? HOW DARE HE! HOW DARE SHE!!! 

Anger overtaking Sammy’s mind, he had decided that he should move plans along sooner than what he was planning on doing. 

With his right hand, Sammy lifted the human girl to her feet by the scruff of her ink covered shirt, her struggling all the way as she attempted to form words. Then, with a swift hit to the back of her head with his left, he knocked her out, dragging her away to a very familiar room… 

-Your P.O.V.-


You awoke with a groan and a sharp pain at the back of your head. Forcing your bleary eyes open, you began to look around at the unfamiliar room. 


Directly in front of you was a gate, and a few feet before that gate stood two wooden structures, which both held their own individual speakers. To the left of you was a door, and craning your neck around, you saw another door was to the right behind you. 


As you attempted to sit up out of the chair in which your body had been placed in, you found yourself unable to. After a bit of struggling, you realized that you were in fact tied up to the said chair with rope, your arms bound away against your will. 

“What the fu-”

“Why if it isn't the little black sheep, awake and listening.” A very very familiar voice cut in to you. Whipping your head to the left, you found yourself staring into the pie-cut eyes of the ink mans mask yet again as he made his way over to you. 

With the sight of him, everything that had happened mere minutes prior to you passing out came back in a storm, and soon, you found your eyes narrowing as he now stood in front of you.


You and him just stared at one another, irritating you to no end. After a minute or so of silence, with a cocky smile, you spoke to the estranged man. 


“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You said with a scoff. This seemed to irritate him as you could hear his black inky teeth begin to grind against one another. 


“Sorta funny how he’s the one who’s getting irritated, Shouldn't I be more pissed off than him?” You thought to yourself in your head as you continued speaking to him. 

“Why the hell are you so pissed? Shouldn’t I be the one upset rather than you?”


“SHUT THE HELL UP!” He screamed as you suddenly found his inky palm colliding with your cheek, making your head move to the right. 


Turning your head back, you shot your eyes up at him which seemed to make him grow stiff. 


“What the fuck’s wrong you!?” You screeched, confused to no end towards the inky mans violent reasoning, but before you could get another word out, you found his fist colliding with your eye, then your stomach, your breath being taken away as the chair fell back to the ground. All the while, you didn’t make any noise or pained sounds. 




However, you still weren’t done talking. 


“What the hell is-” Before you were able to ask your much needed question, his foot had slammed down onto your stomach, finally eliciting a small groan from your quiet and pained body. Finally, you decided to be quiet for a while to allow the ink monster to calm down. 

You truly weren't sure why he was reacting so violently towards you, nor were you sure on how to mend the given situation. Maybe you could find his reasoning if you were to look back at the interactions that you have had with him thus far? It’s the only way that you can find out without directly asking him. 


Your mind was immediately brought back to his grief stricken song which played a tune of immense sadness. Then you remembered how he peered into your eyes, only to ask if you were related to Henry Stein. When you told him you were is when he started to act violently, meaning that he… 


Hates your Grunkle? 


Your kind, quiet, and supportive Grunkle? The man that taught you how important living truly was? The man who showed you how to be happy once again? The man who told you that he loved you every single day? The man that reasoned with you that you are truly not worthless? The man that you consider to be your family, your best friend, your kindred spirit, your hero? Somebody can actually hate your Grunkle? 

The idea of somebody hating your Grunkle made a very foreign feeling swell in your abdomen. Confusion, anger, grief, sadness, and… an overwhelming need to defend? 

Now you understood. You wish to defend your Grunkle. Every fiber in your being is screaming at you to protect your deceased Grunkle and his legacy. But you stopped yourself from doing so. 

After all, the man in front of you, the inky man whose foot is digging into your stomach as you sit/lay here trying to think, trying to figure him out… Something happened that in turn hurt him, and your Grunkle was involved in whatever it was that happened to cause the man so much pain. Somehow, your Grunkle was, directly or indirectly. And you know for a fact that you have no right to deny the man of his feelings. Nobody can deny another being’s feelings or emotions. 

You did however need to sort this out. 

So, you did the only thing you could think of doing. 


You closed your eyes. 





“...Why the fuck did you just close your eyes?” The inky man asked with clear confusion. You responded to him with a blunt tone. 


“Because looking at my eyes upsets you.”

A couple seconds passed, and soon you found your stomach being relieved of his foots pressure. 


Then, after what felt like hours, he lifted your body/chair back up into its proper previous position. With hesitance clear in his voice, the man spoke. 

“You can open your eyes, if you’d like.”


Deciding to open your peepers, you found yourself looking into the ink man’s mask, making sure to keep your facial expressions emotionless and blank as to not further aggravate him. 


“Thank you. May I be allowed to speak freely?” You asked. Your question certainly seemed to take aback the man, as he stood there a foot or so away from you, his obsidian jaw hanged open in shock. 


“Uh… Sure…” He responded, very unsure. 


Nodding your head in thanks, you asked him a much needed question. Cocking your head, you spoke. 

“What hurt you?”

-Sammy’s P.O.V.-


“What hurt you?”


The words in which the girl had spoken to him seemed to echo in his inky brain. What hurt him? There were many things in Sammy’s life that hurt him. Many things that he regrets. Many things that he can never go back and fix. Many permanent changes in which caused him to end up here at this studio, praying to a literal cartoon for repentance of his sins. His mistakes


So, the question that the human asked. The question of who hurt him… How can he answer that? 


The mister? The death of his parents? Joey using him? The ink? Henry? His non-existent sanity? How can he choose…

How can he choose what hurt him? 

“When I was little, when I was born…” 

The girl began to speak, causing Sammy’s inky eyes to shoot up at her as she continued. 


“My mother died while giving birth to me. My father didn’t want me, as he blamed me for my mothers death, and for the first 3-4 years of my life, I was raised by my Grandmother. When she passed on, my father began to take care of me, and… Well, let‘s just say that I have to take a lot of medication now. I… Hated myself, blamed myself to no end for my mother’s death. It was only when he died and I met him… It was only then did I realize that I shouldn’t blame myself. That I had to forgive myself.”

Sammy’s eyes widened at the foreign idea. The idea of forgiving yourself. Such an impossible feat, and this girl in front of him, this same girl who has those familiar E/C eyes, is telling him that it’s possible? 

“It is possible.” She said as if to confirm his thoughts. “It is possible to forgive yourself. You cannot move on from what hurt you, for what hurt you is one of the many things that makes you who you are. You can however accept what happened to you, and from there, from all the pain that was caused… You can learn to grow, and someday, you can learn how to forgive. Forgive the things that hurt you. Forgive you for hurting yourself, and blaming yourself.”

Her once blank face seemed to grow gentle as she peered into his mask. 

“That is what hurt me, not knowing how to forgive myself. So please, tell me… What hurt you?”

Before Sammy knew what he was doing, before Sammy could even comprehend his words or what was happening, for the first time in his life… for the first time in his life Sammy began to tell another living being of all the things that had hurt him. He told a girl, a human related to the very man that he despises of the man who killed his parents, of Joeys torture, of his dependence on the demon, and the day in which he had begun to despise Henry Stein. He told her of his ups and downs, he told her of his happiness and sadness, and all the while, she listened. Nobody had ever actually listened to him, not even his God. But here she is, a human that he should despise… here she is listening intently to the man who had beaten her moments prior. 

Once Sammy was finished, he found himself with his mask off as he sat on the ground cross legged, his inky shame of a face staring back into the girls own. He was just like the creatures in which had attacked her, but more formed. 

Despite his revelation, she didn’t react to it. She didn’t tell him how disgusting his face was, or how unnatural he looked. She just looked at him with a certain tenderness in those previously despised E/C eyes, and after allowing her time to process everything that Sammy had said, he spoke. 

“I am… Insane.” Sammy said in a hushed tone. He didn’t expect her to respond, however, to his shock, she did.


“You're not insane, nor are you at fault. You are simply a lost and broken man who had been hurt beyond belief, and just doesn't know how to handle the pain in which he had received. Sammy Lawrence… You are perfectly sane.”

Before he knew what was happening, for the first time since Sammy’s parents had died… He found himself with clear water running down his inky face, staining his overalls a darker shade from the liquids touch. 

Sammy was crying. 

Soon, Sammy’s small tears had turned into large droplets as they made their way down his blackened face. Soon, Sammy found himself with his arms wrapped around the tied up girls form, apologizing to her, apologizing to his parents, apologizing to himself. All the while, she shushed him so sweetly, comforted him as she told him that it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to forgive. And before Sammy had knew it. Before Sammy could comprehend it...

He found the impossible become possible. 




He began to forgive himself.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


“I'm sorry I couldn't do more…” The man named Sammy Lawrence said to you as he handed you a towel. You gave him a beaming smile in hopes of easing his worries in return as you poured a small amount of your bottled water onto the towel. 


“It’s no worries, this is more than enough.” You said as you finally gave yourself some relief on to ink stained arms and feet as you rubbed the towel gingerly against your slightly irritated skin. 


When you said that Sammy had done more than enough, you truly meant it. After he untied you, the man showed you to a bathroom. You were already extremely grateful for a chance to wash yourself free of the black, but before you were even able to begin, Sammy had came back into the bathroom with a hose and a towel. You were quite confused at first at the sight of the hose, even more so after he offered to wash your hair. Once he explained how bad it would be for you to accidentally get ink in your mouth, as that is how the transformation into an ink being starts, you gratefully accepted his generosity. Then, naturally, right as he finishes washing your hair, neck, and ears, the last working sink breaks down. Which leaves you to now, as you slowly dab your stressed appendages away from the ink. 


Once finally feeling somewhat free from the tacky and flaking texture, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in a granola bar and the remainder of your water, making sure to leave some of the vital liquid for when you are thirsty later on. 


You were in your undershirt at the moment, a cami, which you would NEVER wear but for some reason decided to do so today, which now you are quite grateful for, and your pajama pant legs that are rolled up, advertising your bumpy and scarred skin. You felt somewhat self-conscious at your exposure, but decided to disregard your low self-esteem considering that there is a literal human-turned-ink-monster sitting right in front of you, watching in fascination as you ate a fucking granola bar like you were an animal at a circus. 

Swallowing your second to final bite thickly, you turned over to Sammy with an uncomfortable expression placed on your face. 


“Um… You want some?” You asked with a shrug as you held out your granola bar for him to grab. It probably wasn’t the smartest survival decision, especially considering that you will be down to five granola bars once finished with this one, but damn did you feel bad for the guy! All the food you’ve seen down here is that (expired) bacon soup! When’s the last time he had anything else? 


Sammy looked down at the granola bar, then back up at your face. He was maskless at the moment, allowing you to see his facial expressions. It’s safe to say that you aren't the only one feeling self-conscious. 

“I can't take your food away from you… We don't need it to survive.” Sammy said with a wave of his hands, causing you to cock your head in confusion. 


“We?” You questioned as you took the final bite, and your drying H/C hair swaying to the side simultaneously. 


“Yes… I am not the only one in this studio who has been gifted of life by my Lord! We are all-!”  


Sammy cut his speech short when he saw your scrunched up expression, his form stiffening completely as his arms that were risen up to the ceiling slowly fell back down to his sides. With a clear of his throat, Sammy sat back down. 


“It’s a… Work in progress” Sammy explained, which caused you to nod your head empathetically in understanding of the mans recent change of emotions. 


“A-anyhow child, I am not the only intellectually aware ink being in this place. There are in fact plenty of others.”


“But how?” You asked in confusion, “How are you all still alive? Are there any former employees here? You all seem healthy despite your old age, is that because of the ink? Who- what is all down here?” 

Sammy seemed quite taken aback by your series of questions, but had decided to give you your answers as clearly as he could. You were a good kid, and Sammy didn’t think you deserved to die. The more information you have, the higher your chance for survival. At least that's what Sammy would like to believe. 

With another clear of his throat, Sammy began to explain. 


“Well… We are alive because of the ink. I cannot tell you why, but it has immortal properties. If you drink the ink, and if my lor- I m-mean if Bendy chooses you, then you can become immortal. We stopped aging the minute Bendy had activated the inks immortal properties in our systems. As for who is all down here… Well let's see, we got Allison Angel and her partner Tom, Physical Alice and her narcissistic ass, and what else... Bertrum Piedmont, Jack Fain, Norman Polk, multiple clones of The Butcher Gang, Boris the Wolf, and then…”

“Bendy.” You finished off for Joey, making him nod his head up and down in response.  


“Bendy.” He confirmed once again as he stared into your eyes with his nonexistent own. 

“He's… I guess you could say he's our boss, in a sense. No, boss isn't right… He's more like a God, yeah… Except he isn't a good god, rather he's a god that you never want to anger. A bad God in a sense, but he’s a protector nonetheless. Impossible to get in his good graces, that I tell ya.” 

Sammy shook his downcast head bitterly in response as your mind was finally allowed to absorb all the new information. 


It seemed like there was no Joey Drew around, meaning that he could very well be dead for all you know. That’s a negative, but on the plus side, it does seem like Sammy knows a lot of the beings in the studio. Perhaps he could help you figure out the identity of the man that you told your story to? 

“Hey Sammy?” You drew the mans attention, making him look back up at you. 


“Hm?” He hummed out. 


“I was wondering… The room that I went into after I found the axe, the one room with a pentagram and two coffins that causes you to have strange dreams. Do you know what i'm talking about?” 


“Not about the strange dreams, but I do know the room you're speaking of.” Sammy respond as he rested his chin on his fist, legs spread in a relaxed position. 


“Good enough” You thought to yourself then continued. 


“I spoke to someone there. Someone through the doorway that leads to your floor. Do you know who that could’ve been?”

Sammy’s form stiffened as realization hit him. 


“We… Have a lot to talk about.”

Chapter Text

-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


By the time Bendy had regained his sanity after changing back, he found himself immediately becoming very nervous as he knew that he could have done many things while being semi-conscious, some of those said things possibly being harmful to Y/N. Thankfully, he awoke in his throne room, which leaves Bendy hope that he could’ve possibly had just helped her out, then teleported back through his ink to get to his room. That is the most desirable outcome to the ink demon. He really hopes that he didn't scare her, didn't scare Y/N.  


Unsure with the results of his physical form changing, Bendy had decided that he needed to do a thorough check of the place. To his relief, it looked as if the studio received minimal to no physical harm.  However, to Bendy’s displeasure, he was unable to find Y/N. He needed to check up on her, make sure that nobody tipped her bucket so to speak. 

“I swear, if anybody harmed MY human, then i’ll-” Bendy quickly shook his head back and forth in hopes of getting rid of his possessive thoughts. After all, she wasn’t his. He shouldn’t start treating or thinking of Y/N as an object. At least Bendy assumed he shouldn’t be doing so. You could say that he has never really had the chance to be the social...

At this moment, desire, desperation, and worry filled Bendy to the brim, all 3 of the said feelings being completely foreign to him. Just as he had begun to consider searching for her himself, Y/N had seemingly appeared in front of one of his cut-outs. 

Relief swelled inside Bendy at the sight. However, that said relief only lasted for so long as it was soon replaced with anger. Y/N was hurt. She had not only a swollen eye, but a large hand-print across her delicate face. Both of the said red spots showed signs of the soon to come bloom of black and blue. 


A growl escaped the demon’s lips at the sight of his human being hurt, his human being harmed. 


“I take my eyes off her for a little bit, and this is what happens?!” Bendy thought with another throaty growl. 

A small part of Bendy desired to rush down and scoop her up to cradle her in his arms, put his cool ink against her aches till she was all better. He wanted to keep her safe out of harms way, watch over her by her side 24/7 to make sure that she would never be hurt, and that nobody could ever taint his human. 


However, a larger part of him knew how absurd some of his desires were. The sudden and unexpected desires that had recently taken refuge in Bendy’s soulless being were so foreign to the ink demon, so unnatural. Perhaps that is why he has been feeling so unstabely stable? Either way, Bendy didn’t wish to harm or scare Y/N, and that was the bottom line. That is the only reason why he hasn't made any unneeded contact with her ever since their talk. He’s only acted when needed, which is why he turned into his Beast form and (probably) chased off those damned wanderers. To protect her! Yet this is what happens when he takes his eyes off her, this is what happens when she is left alone in this damned studio!? 


A small chip of Bendy’s already limited rationality and patience slipped away at the sight of Y/N hurt. To a demon, to a being that has never had the chance to honestly care and love another in his 90 years of being a cartoon and 70 some years of life… To him, the only way that he could experience feelings is by experiencing them strongly. Perhaps it's because of the fact that the demon has so little emotions already (besides his sociopathic, deranged, hostile, dangerous, destructive, and homicidal personality), that he cares so deeply for her? Maybe he care so strongly because he can't experience many feelings in the first place? What foreign yet similar thoughts. 

To Bendy’s small relief, an empty food wrapper laid next to the chair that Y/N was seated in. Finally feeling somewhat settled, the demon had begun to take in her appearance. 


Her shirt was off, most likely meaning that it was hung to dry free from the ink, and she had a F/C camisole on. Her pajama pants were rolled up, exposing her bare skin that had been stained with scars from her childhood abuse. She looked exhausted and in a desperate need for a good night rest, and knowing how humans work after all the years of observing them, Bendy knew that whatever she ate from that wrapper was definitely not big enough to satisfy her hunger. Her clothes are wrinkled and stained, her beautiful and shiny H/C locks are wet and knotted, and her already dirty sneakers are fully ruined now, as they have been discarded off to her side to hopefully dry free of the ink just a little bit more. 

All in all, she was wrecked, and Bendy hated to see her like that. 

Yet, despite how wrecked she may have looked, she still had this… Beauty to her. An unmistakably raw beauty that needs no makeup or fancy clothes or jewelry to enhance. It's just there, and always is there. Put simply, she is a natural beauty. Something that you really don't see very often. 

Bendy quickly shook his head back and forth once again in hopes of snapping himself out of his transfixed state. He really needed to get a grip on his emotions. Whatever’s happening to him, Bendy really doesn't like it. 


After shaking his head, Bendy had begun to take a look into Y/N’s surroundings, in hopes of locating where she actually is, and it certainly didn't take long for realization to hit the devil darlin’. 


She was in Sammy’s recording room, and it looks like Sammy had pulled up two chairs for him and Y/N to sit on. 

“Had she managed to get onto Sammy’s good graces as well?” With that thought, a tender smile grew onto Bendy’s already smiling face, his eyes that are covered by his ink squinting in admiration and slight awe. She really was terrifying for a human, and not in a bad way at all. 


Bendy felt confident that Sammy wouldn't hurt her, however, that confidence quickly disappeared as he heard the mention of his name. 


“Bendy. He's… I guess you could say he's our boss, in a sense. No, boss isn't right… He's more like a God, yeah… Except he isn't a good god, rather he's a god that you never want to anger. A bad God in a sense, but he’s a protector nonetheless. Impossible to get in his good graces, that I tell ya.” 


Bendy could feel nonexistent steam escape from his ears by Sammy’s words. Could he not paint him any better? Wasn't he Bendy’s #1 fan or whatever? What the hell changed!?


Realization hit Bendy all over again. 

“Y/N…” Bendy thought as he continued to listen to their conversation, his anger completely leaving him as they continued talking. 

“I was wondering…” You said in your melodious voice, “The room that I went into after I found the axe, the one room with a pentagram and two coffins that causes you to have strange dreams. Do you know what i'm talking about?” 


Bendy’s ink became a little runny from knowing what Y/N was about to ask. 


“Not about the strange dreams, but I do know the room you're speaking of.” Sammy responded, to Bendy’s dismay. Y/N continued. 


“I spoke to someone there. Someone through the doorway that leads to your floor. Do you know who that could’ve been?”

It seemed like Sammy knew who she talked to, as his form visibly stiffened. As he continued speaking, Bendy could practically taste the mans anxiety. 

“We… Have a lot to talk about.”

-Sammy’s P.O.V.-


“What do you mean?” Y/N questioned, making Sammy’s breath hitch as his nerves began to go on override. 

“Considering how Bendy had disintegrated the wanderers that were attacking her… For some reason or another, the practical God of this place had… protected her…? And she… doesn't know him…?” Sammy thought to himself with a visible shudder. 

Knowing his ex-Lord, the ink man knew that the chances of Bendy having good intentions for the human girl are close to zero. 

In the past, if Sammy had heard of his Lord “protecting” a human, then he would've jumped in and offered his services to capture her for the ink demon immediately. However, after meeting and talking to her, talking to Y/N… Sammy couldn't do that. Sammy couldn't sell her off like that. After all, although it will take much time, the former human does plan on freeing himself from the inky chains of that sadistic ink demon in some way, shape, or form. If Sammy sold Y/N off, then he’d literally just be bringing himself back to square one. He can't rely on Bendy- no- he can't rely on religion anymore to erase his past pains. Before he knew it, a frown had soon fitted it's way onto Sammy’s face. 


What makes Sammy even sadder, is that knowing his ex-lord… Bendy is far from done with the human girl. 


On one hand, if Sammy were to stick with her on her journey, then he would be able to protect her and guide her. On the other hand though, if the ink mans former Lord continued to approach the human girl, then what are the chances of Sammy reverting back to his old ways? What are the chances that the exposure of seeing his Lord will make Sammy flip back to insanity? What are the chances that by traveling with Y/N, that Sammy will end up betraying her? Harming her? 

Before Sammy could allow himself to delve into the topic any deeper, he needed to explain some things to the E/C eyed girl. 

“The being that you most likely talked to… Was Bendy”


The girls eyes bulged at Sammy’s confession, her jaw gaping in shock. 


“B-Bendy was… talking to… me? Why would he-”


“Because he’s curious” Sammy cut in to Y/N before she could finish her sentence. “You're… Abnormal.”


Y/N seemed to get irritated at this, as her brows furrowed and her lips twisted into a frown. 

“Gee thanks?” She questioned with a huff and a cross of her arms. This response made Sammy give a small laugh. 


“Being different down here isn't a bad thing. In fact, especially to that ink demon, it’s quite entertaining. Being in this studio for 90 years… It gets boring.” Sammy explained, and by his explanation, Y/N’s expression eased as her arms fell back into her lap. 


“That still doesn't explain why he… reacted the way that he did when I was attacked. I mean, where did he even come from, and how did he know I was being attacked?” 


“Well, he most likely traveled through his ink portals to arrive here, pseudo teleportation if you will, and as to how he knew you were being attacked, he most likely saw it through hi-” Sammy cut himself short as a horrible realization smacked him across the face. 


Right there, in the recording room, amongst all the instruments and whatnot, atop a balcony that is off to Sammy’s right… was a Bendy cut-out peering down at the duo. 

“He… Heard it all…” Sammy muttered to himself in horror. Shooting his wide inky eyes over to Y/N, he spoke to her. 


“You need to leave”


“What? Why-”


“JUST GO!” Sammy screeched at her, chair slamming backwards at the force of the back of his legs smacking the wood. As if on cue, the familiar sound of wet footsteps just outside the door, noise akin to the sound of soaked galoshes had begun to fill the ears of both members inside the music departments recording room.


Panic filling Sammy’s being, he quickly grabbed his chair and shot his body around, slamming the object into the glass window of the vocal recording room, which in turn shattered the glass into a million pieces. 


“GO, BEFORE HE GETS HERE!” Sammy screeched, knowing full well what his former Lord was capable of. 


“But what abou-!?”


“Y/N” Sammy cut into her panic with his usual smooth yet slightly off tone. “I’ll be fine. I won't let him touch either of us, not when i'm taking my first steps into recovery.”


“Sammy…” Y/N whispered under her breath, fresh tears brimming her eyes. 


“My only regret was that I never got to tell you stories of your Grunkle. I promise you Y/N, the next time we meet… I’ll have loads of embarrassing stuff to tell you about”


A loud tisk escaped Y/N, and before Sammy knew it, a pair of kind and accepting arms weaved its way around his form. 


“If you break that promise, then i'm gonna kick your dead ass” Then, with that final sentence, Y/N climbed over the glass and left the music department through the voice recording room. As if on cue, the musical recording departments door slammed open, revealing an all to familiar smile that seemed just a little more stretched compared to usual.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


Panting of uneven breaths echoed throughout the sepia wooden corridor, sweat streaming down your face and neck as you continued to make your way through the empty halls. Leaving Sammy behind with that thing, with that demon… You truly regretted it. According to Sammy, this Bendy character is a powerful being that could easily be equal to that of a god. And you just left a former servant of that said God behind so he could protect you. How is that fair? How is that safe!? 


But then again, what could you have done? 


That’s the only reason why you had left Sammy behind; because you were incapable of assisting him in any way. You hated to admit it, but it was the truth. How would you, a regular human being who gets panic attacks when they hurt others, be able to fight off anybody, let alone a literal demon? If you stayed there, stayed with Sammy… Let’s face it, you would've only been a hindrance. Still though, this fact doesn't stop your conscience from taking over your logical reasoning. You felt bad, and you always will. As far as you know, Sammy could be dead, as far as things could be considered, you let him die. That thought utterly terrified you. 


“I’m the one to blame.” Your conscious screamed at you over and over again like a stuck record. You could feel the tears begin to slide down your face in guilt, until another voice, one that can only be heard through your memories, seemed to reach out to you. 


“Y/N, you are not the one to blame.”


Before you knew it, your mind was bringing you back to a memory from 6 years ago.




“Rocky!” You screamed in hysteria to the boy that was now bleeding. 


“Y-Y/N… I’m fine, okay?” Rocky attempted to comfort your unstable 13 year old self. 


You two were playing knights and dragons in the woods, a common occurrence for the two of you. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a loud creak was heard from above you, and when you looked up, all you could see was a flash of brown and green. Before you knew what was happening, you were face first in the mud, and Rocky was stuck underneath a large fallen tree branch. He had pushed you out of the way so that you didn’t get hurt, and now he was the one hurting. You felt so bad. 


“Waaaaahhh!” Tears streamed down your S/C face as you saw Rocky’s bleeding arm which was impaled by one of the branches large splinters. Rocky, despite him being clearly uncomfortable, was doing his best in making YOU, the unharmed one, feel better. 


“Y/N, its okay… Why don't… Why don't you go and grab Henry, okay? He should be able to get me out. It’ll all be okay, I promise.” With his words, you fervently nodded your head then ran off to go find your Grunkle. 


You ran as fast as your short legs could take you. Down the forest path, and back home to your Grunkle who was currently chopping wood. 


“Grunkle, Grunkle!” You screamed as you flailed your arms around. At the sight of you and your bloody hands, your Grunkle immediately dropped his axe and ran over to you. 


“Y/N!? What happened!? Are you okay!? Where’s Rocky!?” 


“In th- in the woods! It’s all my fault Grunkie, h-he was h-hurt because of me!” You said then began to bawl even harder. In response to your shaking and sobbing form, your Grunkle picked you up in his arms. 


“It’ll be alright Y/N. Now, can you show me the way to Rocky?”




With your hesitation, your Grunkle set you back down. Kneeling on the dirt floor, your Grunkle held your shoulders with both of his hands as he peered into your E/C eyes. 


“Y/N, you are not the one to blame.”


At his words, your sobs began to slow down. 


“H-how do you know that? You weren't even there!” In response, your Grunkle grew a kind and wrinkle filled smile as he then proceeded to give you a tight hug. 


“Because you don't have it in you to ever hurt anybody.”




After your Grunkle managed to get Rocky out from under the branch (along with some help from the neighbors), Rocky was sent to the hospital to get stitches for the cut on his arm. Luckily nothing serious was damaged, and after a quick wrap, Rocky was released from the hospital and sent back to his sisters house. The next day, you fervently apologized to the boy which continued to tell you that “There’s no need to apologize!”


Just like your Grunkle, Rocky had told you that you were not at fault, and that you could never intentionally harm anyone. 

Rocky was 3 years older than you, as he was 16 years old. Despite the age difference, he was a child at heart around you and the two of you had immediately become friends. You both had similar interests, and the two of you were practically siblings. Rocky reminded you of a protective older brother. With the time that he stayed at his sisters, he always had your back no matter what situation you were in. Not to mention, with his appearance which included his 7/16 inches gauges, his right ear which literally had all the types of piercings possible (industrial, helix, anti-helix, inner conch, outer conch, daith, tragus, anti-tragus, rook, upper lobe), his staggering height of 6’5, tattoos covering his arms, and his half shaved head with the other part of his straight jet black hair covering his sharp silver eyes, let's just say… That people feared him. He was considered by many girls to be both sexy yet terrifying. To you though, he was just Rocky. 

The goofy and childish Rocky that was all smiles when it was just the two of you. The Rocky who gave you piggy back rides and ice cream on the hot summer days that you were too tired to walk in. The Rocky that slept over at your house, with you and your Grunkle having slumber parties together where the three of you passed out on the couch from watching too many movies. The Rocky that would punch the playground bullies which in turn made you have to pull him off of them every time as tears streamed down your face. The Rocky which constantly challenged your Grunkle to play poker with him, and the Rocky who was never actually able to win a game against the expert country-senior. 

You and your Grunkle, in all truth, were quite similar in the sense that you were able to see beyond appearance. Both you and your Grunkle accepted Rocky for who he was, and in the short amount of time that he had spent at his sisters home, according to him, you and Henry had become his family. 

You really missed Rocky. If you ever got out of this hell-hole, you'll certainly need to contact him. Just like he considered you family, you considered him yours.  


Remembering that past situation, to your shock, had calmed your nerves as well as your conscience. Despite hurting Rocky, both him and your Grunkle knew that you would never hurt anybody or put anyone in harms way, unless if there was no other options of course. That was exactly what it was like with Sammy. You didn't have any other option except to run. And you did. You shouldn't regret that, you should instead embrace what had happened and just hold onto the hope that Sammy will be okay. 


“I need to have faith in him, just like he had faith in me to make it out on my own.” You muttered to yourself underneath your breath in realization. 


With a sharp nod, and a wipe of your tears, you increased your pace of running as you continued to make your way down the yellow tinted studio. 


-Bendy P.O.V.-


Bendy was beyond pissed at the inky former man in front of him. He talked so badly about him, painted out his “dear lord!” to be like Satan himself! Given, the piece of soul which made up Bendy is from a Prince of Hell, but still! Wasn't he supposed to be Bendy’s #1 fan or whatever!? The guy had shrines for him for fucks sake! Bendy couldn't deny the slight pride he held for Y/N and being able to change his mind, but the more Bendy thinks about it, the more of a reality his thoughts become. 


Those red marks on Y/N’s face… What are the chances that a certain overall bastard gave those to her? 



“Sammy…” Bendy growled out under his breath, making the inky human in front of him shiver at the voice. 


“Y-yes m-my Lord?” 


A crunch echoed the room at Bendy cocking his head to the side. “Where… Is Y/N?”


Sammy’s hold on his makeshift weapon grew tighter at the demons questions. But, to Bendy’s dissatisfaction, Sammy held his ground. 


“I cannot tell you.”


With those words, Bendy’s ink became thinner as anger began to bubble up inside of him. 

Then, before either of them knew it, Bendy had his large gloved hand around the mans throat as he begun to squeeze the life out of him. 


“If you don't tell me where she is, Sammy ol’ pal, then i’ll kill you. If you do tell me however, then I promise you… I will free you from your ink.” Bendy seethed as his grin became noticeably wider as he knew the temptation that he was dangling in front of the man was impossible to resist. His beliefs may have changed, but that change didn't happen that long ago. What choice would the 90 year old creature that had practically spent his entire mortal and non mortal life here, similar to Bendy, choose? The dream that he had to be free of the ink, the same dream that he has held on to for 70-80 years, or the newly formed dream that he made just hours prior? 


“I-I don't know… She ran out… through the vocal recording room. Where she went from there... I have… no… idea…”  


Bendy’s malicious grin grew as he dropped the inky man onto the ground. With a devilish smile now upon his features, Bendy closed his eyes as he began to scan through his cut-outs in less than a second, and sure enough, he found Y/N, who was running away from the invisible force behind her. Bendy’s inner sadist came out at the sight of his human being scared (despite there being no actual danger). With a lick of his non-existent lips, Bendy teleported through his ink. 

“I’m really gonna enjoy this run” Bendy said to himself, and with that, the currently unstable demon came face with his human.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


You had reached a strange statue, similar to the one that you had seen back at the entrance to the music department. It was a ginormous stone statue of the little devil himself, which unnerved you to no end. Whenever you got close to the thing, the stone almost seemed to speak to you in its disturbing and hushed whispers. You hated standing by it, but considering the shallow rectangle lake of ink ahead of you, the stone statue seemed much safer considering what you had all learned about the little darlin’ today. You needed to catch your breath, and this place seemed… safer compared to the pile of that cursed black substance. 


“Well, he most likely traveled through his ink portals to arrive here, pseudo teleportation if you will…” Sammy’s words just minutes prior echoed through your head, sending a shiver up your spine. 


“I am never walking through that fucking ink EVER again” You said aloud to nobody in annoyance. 


Then, with that final sentence, you made your way down the opposing path to the one you just came from, and to your horror, misty-like ink splatters had formed throughout the room. 


“What the-” Confused at the sight, you shot your head back to find the source of the change. There, standing 8 feet tall, in the center of that fucking lake of ink that you just knew was a bad omen, was a very familiar demon who was quickly approaching you as his gloved hand was reached out, ready to grasp your form. 


Your eyes widening, adrenaline immediately kicked into your system as you bolted down the hallway, curving around the ink stained sepia as all you could hear was the footsteps of both you and your pursuer which seemed to echo in the cavern like studio. 


Just as you made your first turn, you had managed to lose your footing thanks to the piles of ink now flooding the floors. 


“SHITSHITSHITSHIT!” You screamed as your body slid down the path of ink and straight into the wall. 


The last thing you saw before passing out was the hovering face of the ink demon’s mere inches from your own. 



-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


That was indeed an unexpected turn of events. 


Bendy had planned on meeting up with the girl, the reasons as to why are impossible to say. The whole situation with Sammy had made the ink demon lose his temper, and he wasn't thinking as he made the decisions that he did. Its admittedly quite easy for the inky demon to lose his sanity. 

He completely forgot how scared his human would be if she saw him. After all, the first time they met, he was chasing her and then shoved her down a hole! 

The second time they met, they talked through a door. A door! Obviously she has no clue that it was him that she was talking to (or she knew and was still scared, fucking Sammy). 

The third time they met, he had saved her. But it's not like she knew that it was him who had done the rescuing! He was in his beast form after all. 

And now, their fourth meet was this. His human running away in fear as she just did a slip ‘n slide into the wall and passed out. The fear that she felt before passing out must've been terrible. Regret filled it's way into Bendy’s inky chest at the thought of his innocent and pure human being so scared. So scared of him. 


Now, Bendy had two (reasonable) options. One was that he could leave her here in the pile of ink near the wall. Waking up unharmed by the ink demon and in the same position would probably help her be calmer, but who knows if she needs medical attention or not? Bendy is not a doctor, much less a human. He may understand some aspects of humanity and the human body, but certainly not all of them. Which leads Bendy to his second option, carry the human down to the place where Boris had originally found Henry. There’s no telling when or if Boris would find her, but the wolf, knowing him, will probably smell the human, and will decide to try and find the source. Out of the cartoon trio, Boris is the only one that has been kept sane, and with being sane, Boris had also continued to be kind. 


Bendy is still quite apprehensive about the mute Boris. According to Joey’s words all those years ago, “Boris’s soul will be lost in limbo forever if we don’t find his voice.” What Joey had meant… that is still very unclear to Bendy. To Bendy though, that Boris is NOT Boris, just another clone. A Boris clone, and that’s all he’ll ever be. 


However, nonetheless, the Boris clone would be able to help Y/N. 


With Bendy’s decision made, he crouched his inky form back down to the laying flat human girl, whose eyebrows were scrunched up in pain. Bendy reached his arms out to pick up the small and fragile human, but had to stop himself midway as realization hit him like a brick to the head.


He had never actually carried anybody, nor had he ever truly touched Y/N. Yeah, he touched her when he shoved her down the hole, but he pushed her back, and she had that huge shirt on. Now though, she has only her camisole on and her pant legs rolled up, meaning that Bendy will have to touch her bare skin, something that he has never done to a human. Well, something he's never done to a human with no homicidal intentions. 

The thought of touching skin with no bad intentions was already a whole other world of its own, but what makes Bendy even more nervous is that the human he will be touching is not just any human… It’s Y/N. And without her permission as well. 


That unidentifiable feeling that Bendy had felt back when Y/N had patted his cut-out’s head flooded its way back into his chest as the demon began to try and take deep breaths. His ink felt oddly warm and drippy, making it hard for Bendy to solidify it as to not cause anymore stains on the girls already ruined clothing. However, the ink being had managed to do so, and pushing through all his fears, Bendy picked the human girl up. 


Securing her shoulders between his hand and chest, Bendy brought the girl close to his inky form as to not drop her. The back of her bare knees were draped across Bendy’s opposing arm, as Bendy managed to curl his glove-less hand and forearm upwards, as to not let her legs slip out of the hold. The demon was carrying her “bridal style”, so to speak. The ink being made sure not to put too much strength into his grasp in fear of accidentally hurting or harming her. 


Then, with a small shake of his head, Bendy managed to clear some of the ink out of his eyes so he could get a better look at her. 


Her lips were parted as she heaved small, dry breaths, while her eyebrows are now less scrunched compared to before. Her H/C hair was tangled yet unstained from the ink, and the red marks that she had on her face are noticeably darker. Her cheeks and nose are flushed in a light pink, and a red mark was beginning to form on her forehead. 


Bendy’s breath hitched all over again at the sight of her, at the sight of this perfect human in his arms. She was so light and fragile, and her form was so small and cute compared to the massive demons own. He couldn't help but wonder how easy it would be to carry her in his Beast Form. He could easily hold her in his hand, or she could sleep on his arm if he folded it up like a chair! 


Bendy shook his head back and forth to snap out of his day-dreaming. The humans warmth had begun to seep into the demon, making a shiver of pleasure crawl up the inky monsters spine at the heat. However, Bendy was quick to note that she was still cold, for a human at least. They’re supposed to be at 98.6 degrees, and her body warmth is certainly not at that. As if on instinct, Bendy had decided to warm his ink up just a little for her. It took energy for him to change his ink, but it was entirely possible. Bendy is the Demon made entirely of ink, naturally, he can manipulate it. That includes its temperature. 


With a gentleness that the ink demon didn't know he held, Bendy had began to walk down the hall with Y/N in his arms. The walk was a slow one, and Bendy’s eyes were completely transfixed on the girl in his grasp the entire time. To the ink being, the time wasn't long enough, for a few minutes later, Bendy had reached the infamous door which had locked him out from his prey all that time ago. Passing the said door, Bendy made his way into another room, a sign saying “Lift” directly in front of him. 


With much reluctance, the demon slowly and gently laid the human down onto the ground, in the center of the said room.


Then, with one final glance, Bendy left Y/N. 


-??? P.O.V.-


He was making his daily rounds around the massive studio, when a quiet groan had managed to snap him out of his thoughts. 


Looking over, the sight in front of the being was a shock to say the least. There, passed out on the ground, was what looked to be a human female that was obviously injured. With no hesitation, the kind former cartoon scooped the human up in his arms and carried her back to his hideout.

Chapter Text

And that brings us to the end of part 2, as in the video games chapter 2! Well, how was it? Heart wrenching? Tear moving!? ENJOYABLE!?!? What about my double update (After my huge fuck up post)!? 

Seriously though, I am so sorry about that with the whole original “Chapter 26: Alternative Chapter 18” thing. To anyone who is confused, what pretty much happened is that I usually try to update between 1-3 days. I do not have an official update schedule, however, I do try to keep a sort of schedule for myself to follow. I felt seriously bad for not having anything ready, as I have been (shamelessly) busy binging idol reverse harem anime's, half (and by half, I mean all) having some serious cringe. With September coming up, I am starting to stress out since I haven’t dipped into my anime list that I made at all, which ended up with me binging 50+ episodes in like… 3-4 days…? Also, i’ve been painting and drawing a lot ^_^

Anyhow, I never really got the chance to write, and because of that, I felt like utter shit. I had a scrapped writing, and decided to post that. I was anxious for the entire night after, and I immediately regretted it. On my Archive of our own account, one of my readers left me a really nice comment that I read this morning about how I shouldn’t feel pressured to write and that my readers will always wait. It was something along the lines of that, and I seriously regret not screen-shotting it. 


That comment helped me realize something though, something important. This is, like I have said before, my first time ever seriously posting my writing and making fan-fiction. It is a completely new and foreign experience for me, which I have seen to have many ups, as well as a few downs. In all honesty though, writing is super fun already, but writing for an audience… That’s seriously an amazing feeling, one that I have never actually experienced. I don't have social media, pretty much meaning that I have never been able to post my works, whether that be digital art, drawings, acrylic paintings, writing, etc. This is an entirely new thing for me, and I am loving it. I already have self-esteem issues when it comes to a lot of things, and posting my writing has helped me quite a bit! 


So, to all that read my story, I thank you. You guys are the literal bomb. If anybody has any questions, please leave them down in the comments below. I also plan on updating chapters soon, and I will most likely have another A/N to explain the changes I made. I had no idea where I was going with this in the beginning, so a lot of things are inconsistent. I’ll need to fix those. As to when that will come, I have no idea! I’m a free-lancer baby!

Kudos and stars to all of you!  I hope you all have a great and awesome day, just like you guys make mine! Only the best of wishes :)

Chapter Text

Up in the heavens, and in the depths of hell.

In between the two, a man had fell.

With dreams so great that he tried to reached for the stars.

But desires so twisted that the demons pulled him far.

Far away from his fame, far away from his power.

Far away from his home, and far away from his tower.

He fell and fell back into the mortal realm.

The stars that he once reached for now shattered beyond help.

Now the fallen man was nothing but a skelm.

A criminal that had fallen so far, even his demons could only say welp.


Deep in the countryside, past the meadowing greens.

Past the whistling willows and the sounds of the birds and the bees.

Past the crickety building made of black and beige,

A little down the road, you will find the home for the old of age.


There in that building, an old man sat in the middle of his porch.

Sunbathing his old and sickly skin as he sat there seemingly so small and short.

His silver eyes gleamed from his cataracts and age, like a dead flower still on it's plant refusing to wane. The flower had stayed, stayed, stayed.

Despite all the storms and monsters and limitations.

The man had continued to stay strong and be filled with determination.

For the man you see, was a bit of a millenarian.

Who refuses to die off, for this man is a centenarian.


A hundred birthdays, and a hundred cakes. A hundred wishes and a hundred thanks.

A hundred years this man has lived,

And despite his age, the man still stays determined.


Hair of jet black, and eyes of a piercing silver.

Ears covered in piercings, and a name that is similar to that of a boulder.

A man covered in tattoos had entered the centenarians room.

He stood beside the man as they began to watch the flowers bloom.


They spoke so little, yet needed to speak of so much. The quiet and aged centenarian deciding to be ignorant of his delinquent of a Great-Grandson.

Ignorant of his existence, and ignorant of his arrival. Ignorant of his interests, and ignorant of his need for survival. In the end, it was simply ironic.

They were both so similar, yet both so different.


One man who had the kindest of presentations, yet the evilest of intentions.

While the other had the hardest of lives, yet the most pure of determinations.

One mans footsteps only leave trails of ink and blood.

While the other brings destruction, as well as a hope-filled bud.

Which flower will die, it is impossible to say.

For the Grandfather and the Grandson have a gamble that they refuse to let sway.


Who will fall first? is the pairs major question.


Will it be the man that Drew,

Or the man with a Rocky view?


Only time will tell, for soon there will be a bloom.

Maybe not from them, but from somebody that will be involved, which only happens once in a blue moon.


Now it's time to start anew.

A fresh slate for the tired and abused.



And a beast made of ink that will be coming for one of them very very soon. 

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

 Everything was dark and quiet. Not even the sounds of your own breaths could be heard as you stood there. Reaching out your arms in order to find out if you could see anything, anything at all, what you came to look at shocked you. 

Your hands were so tiny...

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” A familiar man spoke in disappointment, which in turn made you shoot your head up at the illuminated figure. You stared at him in shock and confusion as you attempted to form the needed to ask questions in your head. However, despite your dilemma, he continued to speak, as he just shook his head back and forth. 


“Look at what you have become”


Against your will, your head shot down to your hands, which in turn made you elicit a throaty scream. 

They were back to your regular hands, your adults hands, but that’s not what made you scream. What made you scream was the fact that they were coated in ink and blood. Your eyes began to water at the sight as your body trembled. 


“Just like me… I'm so proud”


You shot your eyes back up at your father, but who met your eyes indeed wasn't your fathers. Instead, it was a familiar pair of silver eyes. A man in a wheelchair whose name you did not know. 


“I see you’ve picked up where I left off… Good for you child. Now then, if you were to consume just a little bit of ink, then you can become ageless. Isn't that great?” You opened your mouth to scream at the psychopath in front of you, but found that no words were able to come out. Tears had begun to steam down your face with your lack of voice as you shook your head frantically back and forth. Beginning to curl up into a ball, what stopped you from crouching down was a pair of familiar lips against your neck. 


“Come on babe, why don't you just give in to the temptations? I know you want it.”


Shooting your head back so you could yell at your offender, the only person who was staring into your eyes was a pair of a much more youthful cut silver. He was covered in tattoos and piercings, and to your horror, was also covered in blood. What made it even worse though, was his right arm, the same one that was impaled all those years ago. 


You weren't necessarily scared of the arm…


You were more scared at the lack of it. 


Strings of meat and skin hanged out of the gaping cut like dental floss wound as blood pooled off his half appendage onto the floor. A little bit of white was exposed from the middle, and the entire appearance almost reminded you of a piece of poorly managed T-bone steak. You wanted to hurl.

“Y/N… You did this to me.” Rocky spoke as his eyes were blown wide and his lips twisted into an insane smile. “And now… You're gonna do it to others.” 


“I-I would ne-”


“But you already did Kiddo.” Your guardians voice cut into your own. Shooting your head to the right of you, a familiar figure stood there with his head down-cast. 




“You're a monster Y/N.” He cut in to your words of protest yet again. “I sent you to the studio to fix things, but instead you beat up a creature in suffering and left Sammy to die. I am very disappointed in you.” Your Grunkle said as he shook his head back and forth in disappointment. 

“I am ashamed to call you my Great-Niece.”


For some reason, out of all the things said, those words seemed to hurt the absolute most. Those words seemed to cut into your very being as your mouth hanged open in shock, tears smoothly glistening down your S/C face and body. Those words destroyed you. 


Standing there in absolute shock, your shock had quickly switched to that of horror as your Grunkles black eyes that were streaming with inky-like tears met your own. Then, with a deep and gritty voice, your Grunkle spoke, his smile wide and cartoony, just like a familiar little devil darlin’s.


“And now… You will die.”


His entire body was coated in black, and with a single blink of your eyes, a tall and lanky skeletal like creature now stood mere inches in front of you in place of your Grunkle. His wide smile seemed to take up his entire face, and the things ink stunk of iron and blood. 

As you stared, out of nowhere, his head shot down to meet your gaze in less than half a second. Before you knew it, a loud crunching sound echoed the dark area as his spine visibly re-positioned itself so his face could be in front of yours. Then, when his head was literally an inch from yours, the creatures 8 toothed smile parted, revealing a long and slippery black tongue which glided across your cheek. Slurping it back in to its mouth, the demon leaned in towards your ear and spoke to you. 


“You're mine”



Heavily breathing, you shot your head up out of bed, your eyes frantically scanning your area in search of any of the beings that you had just encountered. Once you had realized that you appeared to be safe, and that everything you had just experienced seemed to be a nightmare, you couldn't help the sigh of relief that had escaped your lips. 


“That was a terrible dream…” You thought to yourself, and with that thought, searing pains shot through your face, forehead, and abdomen, making you visibly wince. It only got worse as you attempted to get out of the bed, which resulted in you literally rolling off of the hard wooden matress and onto the equally as hard floor face down with a loud bang. 


“Son of a…” You muttered to yourself, wincing all the while. You found that you didn't have the energy to try and figure out where you are, much less move. Even breathing hurt your tired lungs, and let's not even begin on the legs. To put it simply, let's just say that you were never exactly an athlete in school. Which was actually quite apparent at the moment, as your legs felt like the muscles had just been run over by a train along with the line of cars that were waiting for the train to finish its run. Currently, you were honestly as useless as a pile of dog shit in the middle of the sidewalk. Actually, you overall just felt like shit. What you were willing to do for some ibuprofen right about now… 


“If this is what hangovers are like, then I am NEVER going to drink alcohol” You thought to yourself in irritation, only for another shoot of hurt to go through your body. 


“UGH!!!” You loudly groaned in a mixture of irritation and literally death like pain. Not even the beer bottle cuts or beatings hurt this bad. Maybe it was because you just haven't had a beating in so long? Who the fuck knows. At the moment, you couldn't exactly find it in you to care as you laid face down on a fucking floor that you swear to fucking god has a piece of shiny black animal hair stuck between the boards. 

As you attempted to figure out the great mystery of the strand of black, you failed to realize the fact that somebody else was in the room along with you. It was only when your body was being lifted up by hands underneath your pits did you realize that you weren't alone. 

“W-what the-!” You started, but had to cut yourself short when your eyes were met with a similar pair of inky pie-cut peepers. 


The thing was… A very interesting (and slightly cute) creature. It had two long and slightly flopped ear like appendages atop of its head, and a long snout that had a large and round black nose atop of it. The things flews were very long, which in turn hid any part of his mouth. It did however have adorable little whisker dots and two large circles of inky-like blush on its tiny cheeks. Its black eyes had an almost binocular shaped white surrounding them which was cut off by a layer of black. All in all, it was an adorable creature, and once you were able to register its appearance, you immediately knew who it was. 


“Boris…?” You muttered out in confusion and shock. Your words seemed to make him happy as he nodded his head up and down, ears flopping ever so slightly in response as he set you down, allowing you to get a good look at the rest of him. 

He had overalls on that were very similar to Sammy’s, and both of his hands were large, cartoony, and gloved. He had stringy arms, pure black boots, and his overalls ended just underneath where his chest would be. He was surprisingly tall in your opinion, around the same height as your Grunkle. 




You were cut off as Boris took your hand with his gloved one and pulled you along. An older fashioned swinger song filled your ears as Boris made his way down the very short hall. Then, opening a door, Boris brought you to what appeared to be a bathroom. 

As Boris proceeded to point at the sink then back at your clothes, you weren't sure what he was trying to tell you. Seeming to understand your confusion, Boris put his finger up as a signal for you to wait a minute, then walked off. When he returned, he had a clean pair of overalls in his arms as he pointed down to your dirty pants, to the sink, then at the overalls. 


“Are you telling me… To wash myself off? And you're offering me a change of clothes?” You asked with a cock of your head. Once again, Boris seemed to be happy at your understanding as he excitedly nodded his head up and down, causing a smile to form across your face. 


Your E/C eyes twinkling in adoration, you gave him a tender smile as you spoke, overall very appreciative of the kind ink creature in front of you. 


“Thanks Buddy.” And by your words, Boris’s eyes widened in what appeared to be realization. He looked frantic now, as he shot his head back and forth, which made you confused yet again. Putting his finger up, Boris once again ran off, only to return with a sheet of paper. He held up the sheet for you, and on the sheet was two names that were put off into separate columns. It looked like a score sheet. When you followed Boris’s finger, your eyes immediately landed onto a name that you knew all too well. 




Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


You had been staying at Boris’s sanctuary for about a week now. In that week of a time, you have been resting and have eaten all your granola bars, as well as drank all but three-fourths a bottle of your water. To say that you were worried about your chances of survival would be an understatement. You have told Boris of your fears with your starvation, which in turn had made him offer you some of that (expired) bacon soup, which you adamantly denied. 

Because of the lack of safe to eat food, and not wishing to poison yourself, you have decided that you need to get a move on out of this place, and soon. At this rate, you will starve to death, or worse… Eat that bacon soup which literally says in small print, “Best to be eaten by August 27th 1968” . For some reason, eating it scares you more than the literal ink monsters and demons that wish to kill you. 


Then of course, there is still the mystery of the studio. You have plenty of questions for the place, none of which you believe can be answered. To be honest, you don't necessarily care if they are answered or not anymore. A small part of you still wants to learn more about your Grunkle, but with the missing Sammy along with the mute Boris, the chances of you finding out anything are very slim. 

And we can’t forget about that Bendy. When you tried to find out more about him from Boris, the mention of his name sent the poor wolf into a panic attack! You hugged him as his panic attack finished, since it seemed like his panic attack style is very similar to yours, and waited till he calmed down. He immensely appreciated it. From then on, you had decided not to bring up the dancin’ demon to the sweet canine cartoon ever again, which leaves you by yourself to try and figure out the intentions that Bendy had towards you. 


The first time you had met, he had shoved you down a hole. That shows clear aggression, possibly even intent to kill. However, if Sammy was right, then that means that the second time you met was through the door, when you talked to him of your past. He seemed… Quiet, to put it simply. You definitely didn't expect to have a heart to heart with a literal demon, but you did. He shared a bit of himself with you, while in turn you shared, well… All of you to him. 




“What would you call somebody who killed every single human that ever directly or indirectly hurt him? What would you call somebody who kills innocent people just for them walking into his territory? What would you call a literal demon, a being that is and always has been referred to as a monster? WHAT WOULD YOU CALL THEM THEN, Y/N!?” The mysterious man screeched to you from the other side of the door. You grew silent as you began to gather your thoughts towards what the man had just told you. 


Finally though, after some consideration, you responded to him. 


“I would call them a being who had been deeply hurt to the point that they broke. I would call them a being that was so lost that they just didn't know their way back. I would call them a being that was never given a chance to be anything else other than a demon or a monster. I think… I think I would call them unfortunate.”


A moment passed, then a heavy thump of a body could be heard from the other side of the door. In an instant, you could feel exhaustion come over you as your body grew heavier. 


“Listen… I know I barely know you but… Think I could take a nap? That dream… It left me more tired than I was prior… I’d appreciate it if… You made sure nobody got in and...” 




Then you literally just fucking passed out with a stranger that had locked you out of your escape and was in reality the literal demon that had tried to kill you that exact same day. 

Yeah… you still cannot believe that you did that. Looking back on it, you were being a fucking idiot. Just telling a random person your life story, but his response… His response sounded like he was so hurt… Suffering… Your questions of his intent had certainly risen even more after your third meet with the ink being. 




“What the-” Confused at the sight, you shot your head back to find the source of the change. There, standing 8 feet tall, in the center of that fucking lake of ink that you just knew was a bad omen, was a very familiar demon who was quickly approaching you as his gloved hand was reached out, ready to grasp your form. 


Your eyes widening, adrenaline immediately kicked into your system as you bolted down the hallway, curving around the ink stained sepia as all you could hear was the footsteps of both you and your pursuer which seemed to echo in the cavern like studio. 


Just as you made your first turn, you had managed to lose your footing thanks to the piles of ink now flooding the floors. 


“SHITSHITSHITSHIT!” You screamed as your body slid down the path of ink and straight into the wall. 


The last thing you saw before passing out was the hovering face of the ink demon’s mere inches from your own. 




He just out of nowhere had begun to chase you! Given, you immediately had started running away, and he could’ve just been chasing you to try to catch up, but he could talk! You have heard him talk before, meaning that if he wished to talk to you then he obviously had the capability to do so. Chasing you though, chasing you in the exact same manner than he had done the first time the two of you had met… Well, what are the chances that he didn’t wish to harm you? In your eyes, it seemed slim. 


You also couldn't forget that you did however wake up unharmed. Besides the hit to your head, which was an accident (at least to your belief. He could’ve placed that ink there on purpose, you can never be sure), you awoke perfectly fine, and in the safety of Boris’s sanctuary no less. Which brings you to how you were found. Where were you found? You couldn't ask Boris, he was mute! What you could however assume was that Bendy did no additional harm to you despite having the perfect chance in order to do so. 

So, in conclusion, these are the events and interactions that you have had with the demon so far:


1st meet- He chases you, then shoved you violently down a hole.


2nd Meet- He talks to you and does no harm when you fall asleep. 


3rd Meet- He chases you the same way he did upstairs (violently), then does no harm to you when you had passed out. 


Just what the hell are you supposed to get out of those events? He sometimes likes you alive, then sometimes likes you dead? 

You gave an exasperated sigh a you leaned your head back down onto your wooden comforter. It was nighttime, and both you and Boris were in bed. Boris had a sweet hammock and a chest where he kept all his stuff. He offered his hammock to you, but you turned him down. It’s his home after all, not yours. Besides, you can suck up the uncomfortableness of the wood for a little longer, it’s certainly better compared to the floor that you have been sleeping on so far. What you would do for a pillow right about now… You’ve pretty much have been using 2 pairs of overalls (since your pants have been washed), which had been stuffed in a pair of white and black dotted boxers in place of a pillow. There was nothing you could use to keep your upper body warm besides your bra and cami, and your sneakers were absolutely ruined. The soles had fallen off. You had to wait for the fabric to dry to reconnect them with some superglue that Boris had thankfully had. Even so, they're only halfway on the shoe and are already coming undone. In other words, your feet are screwed. 

You considered cutting off your pant legs and using those as sleeves, but then you remembered the scars that you have on your legs thanks to your father. You’d rather not have those hanging out in the open. 

Actually, you'd much rather not have your cleavage hanging out either, yet here we are, a millimeter away from the fold between your boobs being exposed to the entire studio. Did you mention that the cami is see-through and you can see your black bra through the shirt? No? Well it is. And you were furious. However, what the hell were you supposed to do? Use the underwear as a shirt? You’d be lying if you haven't considered turning Boris’s boxers into a makeshift shirt instead of a pillowcase, but that would be even more uncomfortable… The material was sorta scratchy too… 


With another loud sigh, you flipped your body towards the wall as you had attempted to fall asleep. From sheer boredom alone, slumber was finally able to overtake your tired form, thus ending your 7th day at Boris’s sanctuary. 




-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


Bendy was simply furious at himself. Not only had he scared Y/N, but he had given her to that fake Boris! He doesn't necessarily regret bringing her to safety as much as Bendy regrets the fact that he has never been able to find the location of Boris’s hide-out. And now all Bendy can do is hope that she is okay. 


Part of Bendy kept telling himself that she is hurt and needs help. However, another part of Bendy, the more saner part of Bendy was telling him that he was overreacting and that Y/N is in no harm. 

That doesn't however change the fact that Bendy would feel much much better if he would be able to have eyes on her. 


At the moment, Bendy was attempting to remember how long it takes for humans to heal. If he remembers correctly, then her bruises are probably yellow and brown since it has been 7 days. He could be wrong though, and that’s what made him so anxious. 


Bendy was also thinking about her supplies. From what Bendy had saw, she has food and water, which is admittedly much better compared to the studio’s bacon soup and plumbing for water. Even the somewhat still egotistical Bendy cannot deny the fact that the soups best by date had been passed many many years ago. 

Also, Bendy was considering the condition of her clothes. She only had the camisole on, and her shoes looked absolutely ruined. If they were to come apart and if her feet were to be stabbed and ink were to soak in… Then she'd…


“Is that really such a bad thing though?” Bendy mind thought against him as a startling realization made its way into his form. 


If Y/N were to get some ink in her mouth, nose, or bloodstream, then Bendy would be able to make her like him. Immortal, and then she’d have no choice but to stay here in the studio by his side! All Bendy would have to do is activate the ink inside of her! And if he were to do that… Then Y/N could be his… 

Bendy’s perma-grin grew larger from the realization. Although he had no clue what his feelings were towards the human girl, he couldn't deny the fact that he liked the idea of having her to himself. However, before he could begin making his plans, Bendy had remembered something. Something important. 


“Could she really become mine by doing that to her?” 


And Bendy couldn't ignore that fact. He shouldn't ignore the fact that making her an ink being would be damaging. 

She would never be able to trust him if he did that. Furthermore, Bendy actually… Likes the fact that she is human. She is different from the other humans that he has met, and she is much better compared to all the other ink beings in the studio. Bendy appreciates the fact that Y/N is untainted by the ink, for without the ink, his human is so pure and innocent. He could NEVER corrupt her with the same substance that corrupted so many. That wise and un-corrupted human that you would imagine to be very corrupted through all the events from her father and ex but isn't… How can he ruin that for his simple greed? After all, she is his human , not his cartoon or his animation, she’s HIS HUMAN. And like hell Bendy will ever change that. 

Besides, Bendy knows what he looks like… He’s hideous, and she’s obviously scared of him. Becoming friends with the little human is too much to ask for. 


“Let alone have her love me…” As soon as that thought entered Bendy’s mind, he immediately shook it out. Like hell he wants her love! Hah! An ink demon infatuated with a human! How ridiculous is that!? 


However, Bendy couldn’t deny how his non-existent heart raced as he thought of him being in love with her. 


“It’s simply fear of the unknown which is making me uncomfortable which is in turn making my heart race is all! Besides, it is impossible for me to have emotions, Joey created me to have very few emotions!” Bendy reasoned with himself, and with that reasoning, he could feel himself calm down as his heart settled. 

It’s impossible for the demon to love, and Bendy will make sure that it will stay that way. All he feels for THAT human is simple curiosity is all. Nothing more, nothing less. 


With that final thought, Bendy had settled his lanky inky body onto his throne and fell asleep, all his worries shoved aside for the time being.




-Sammy’s P.O.V.-


His fingers raced against the keys as a heavy tune echoed the musical department. The inky man sweated beads of black as he allowed his hands to waltz across the white strips with the melody that was coming not from paper, but from the mans tired and guilty heart. 


To think that he had betrayed Y/N so easily. To think that his resolutions changed so suddenly. Wasn’t he supposed to try and heal himself? After all, Y/N had said it herself. 


“You're not insane, nor are you at fault. You are simply a lost and broken man who had been hurt beyond belief, and just doesn't know how to handle the pain in which he had received. Sammy Lawrence… You are perfectly sane.”


By the memory, Sammy’s wide fingers viciously slammed down onto the instruments keys in a finalizing deep echo as heavy breaths escaped his obsidian masked lips. He hated himself so so much at the moment. How he wished that he could take back what he said to the ink demon with the whereabouts of Y/N. How he wished that he could’ve never met the mister, or Joey, or music, or anything! How Sammy craved to have a family, to have friends, to have loved ones, and to maybe even have children! All those years he could’ve made something of himself and he didn't. All those years that the man named Sammy Lawrence has spent wasting away in a studio filled to the brim of ink. All those years… That Sammy has hated himself, but has never had to. 


With an unsteady sigh, Sammy spoke quietly underneath his breath. 

“I gotta find Y/N”



-Boris’s P.O.V.-


The wolf knew that the human had just finally fallen asleep. With her sighing, and rolling, and whatnot, the sensitive wolf knew that Y/N was sick and tired of the studio. It’s a terrifying place to live in, to be in, and Boris should know for he has been down here for quite some time. How the wolf wishes that he could help himself out, help her out, and help every other ink being out to be free of the ink. 


In truth, the only true ink beings, the beings that are not created from dead bodies or clones is him and Bendy, and in all honesty, Boris is terrified of what Bendy has become. Sure, Bendy was always an ass, but he was a tolerable ass. Tolerable then compared to now at least. 


In the cartoons, they were the best of friends. It was nice to be able to remember those times before he became a three dimensional character. How Boris wishes that they could still have those times. 


The only reason why Boris is sane at all is because out of all the beings down here… He is the only one that has the soul of a cartoon. Joey was sorely mistaken when he said that just because Boris cannot talk means that he is not the true Boris. In fact, the fact that Boris CANNOT talk proves that he is a true cartoon. If you look in the comics and animations, do you ever actually see the characters talk? You don’t. And just like the animations and whatnot, Boris cannot talk. Boris is unique, and the closest thing to Boris would be Bendy, the only other creature who is made out of solely ink. The wolf knew that there was nothing he could ever do to change the demon, but that doesn’t stop the forever positive and innocent cartoon from dreaming. Dreaming of days where him, Bendy, and Alice were back on paper as they lived out their days filled with happiness and mischief. 


If only… 


If only there was a rewind button…


But there isn't. Which is why Boris plans on helping out Henry’s sweet and kind niece. It’s what Henry would have wanted. 


Since Y/N had been found by Boris those 8 days ago, she has told the wolf plenty about her Grunkle. Even the mute wolf could tell that their relationship was a strong and deep one built on trust and love. When she told Boris that he died over a year ago, the wolf was quite sad. But even the wolf knew that all lives are fleeting, and that only the beings cursed by the ink can live forever. Indeed, no matter how ugly it can be, life will always be beautiful.


What a thought.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


You slammed your hands down onto the antique wooden table, making Boris shoot his head over at you. 


“Boris…” You said his name in a stern voice, making the cartoon eyes widen. 


“I need to leave. This place… If I stay any longer, then i’m gonna die buddy.”

The wolf’s wide eyes immediately became considerate slits once you had finished your sentence. At the moment, it almost seemed like he was staring straight through you, making a shiver crawl down your spine. However, you refused to break eye contact. There were some things that needed to be said, and like hell you're backing out. 


After what felt like hours, Boris sighed then gave you a hesitant nod of his head, making you give him a tight lipped smile in return. Although you should feel happy, you still felt bad that you would be leaving the clearly lonely wolf behind. You couldn't, you wouldn't…


“Buddy! Why don't you escape with me?” You asked, with clear determination in your peepers. This seemed to make the wolf falter back, and to your shock, after only a few seconds, the cartoon merely shook his head back and forth, eyes closed as he did this. 


“But… Why? Why would you wish to stay here? Do you… Do you want to stay here?” With your question, Boris shook his head back and forth in the same manner that he did prior, making your confusion even more evident on your features. Before you could even ask the wolf another question, he held one of his digits up and walked away. When he came back, he held a sheet of paper in his hands that you have seen quite a few times around your journey in the studio. 






with BORIS
the Wolf!


Is what the poster had read. On the poster showed a cartoon Boris that appeared to be holding what you assumed was a clarinet. Musical notes and sheet music lines with notes on them were in the background, creating an overall cheery vibe. 

After examining the poster, you looked back up at Boris, and when you saw his face, you had finally registered what he meant to tell you but was unable to do so. 

“I belong in the studio”

Your eyebrows knitted together in concern with the wolfs unsaid words. You desperately wanted to change his mind, to tell him that he could go anywhere that he wanted! But really, you knew that he was right. Where in the world would they accept him or any of the other kind ink creatures in the studio, like Sammy for instance? If people saw them and told the police, what do you think would happen? The government? Military? Area 51? And imagine the experiments that would be done on these guys. 

It’s not like Sammy wanted to be turned into an ink monster, from your understanding, according to Sammy, the entire situation is Joeys fault! Including the creation of the so called “monster” Bendy. 

Your eyes widened in realization yet again as you finally had registered something very very important, something that you had never thought of thanks to your fear and confusion towards the literal ink demon. 

Bendy had never asked to be created. 

Sammy told you while telling his story of his life that Joey had created the ink beings himself out of his own accord. How can a creature that had never existed prior be able to consent to be born? That's impossible. Joey… Joey is the true monster of this studio. Not Bendy or any of the other ink beings, but Joey himself. Sure, Bendy is definitely not somebody with good intentions towards anybody, but he wasn't born like this. Nobody is born like this. Even psychopaths and sociopaths are capable of making their own decisions, and they can lead completely normal lives if they so wish. In other words, Joey could be a complete psychopath or sociopath, and even then that would not explain the reasons as to why he had chosen the path of destruction like he had. The same goes for Bendy. There may be reasoning for their actions, but there is no excuse that either of them could make towards their decisions. Feelings of hurt cannot justify harming others. The issue is that neither of them had ever known these facts that you believe in from the bottom of your heart. They never took the time to learn them. They're all just…

“Ignorant…” You muttered under your breath, causing Boris’s downcast eyes to shoot up and meet your fallen own in confusion. From his reaction, you had snapped out of your own trance with a slight blush of embarrassment to your face along with a wave of your hands. 


“Sorry for startling you Boris! I was just thinking about the studio is all, and I guess I said a part of my thoughts out loud, haha…” You laughed as you rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. 

Boris nodded his own head in understanding towards your words, then he walked back to the chair and sat down at it, his banjo by the musical canines side. 


“Well, are you ready to head out?” You asked the wolf, and in response, he shook his head back and forth. Before you could ask any questions, Boris had handed you a can of the expired soup, making a small smile grow on your face. 


“I can't believe you can eat this stuff!” You said with a laugh. 


Looking back up at Boris with a tender and adoring expression, you smiled as you spoke. 

“Alright buddy. I’ll make you some soup then we can head out.”

You then walked off to find two more cans of soup, knowing full well that one can would not be enough for your large companion.

Chapter Text

-Boris’s P.O.V.-


2-Dimensional life. A concept that if one would hear, most would instantly think that you are bat shit crazy. After all, in order for a sentient being to be alive, you’d need organs, bones, blood, muscles, flesh, etc. Obviously, a being that is 2-Dimensional would be incapable of having any of that. So, to most humans, the thought of two dimensional creatures being alive was impossible. 

Impossible to all but Joey Drew. 

I still remember the first time Henry’s inking pen had landed onto the crisp white sheet of paper. The smile that he gave me as the first ever picture of me had stared right back into the kind mans eyes. Then and there, I knew what I was meant to be. 


I was meant to be a cartoon that made people as happy as I made him.


With all the comics and animations made, I slowly yet surely began to have a personality. It was with each action that I was drawn in, that i'd be able learn more about who I was. Not one day passed where I did not learn something new about myself. The time I had spent on paper and film in that studio was simply magical. Simply irreplaceable. Simply perfect. 

Which was why I was so utterly confused when I was dragged out of the said paper and film, only to join a horde of dozens upon dozens of beings that looked just like me. They all looked the same, and yet unlike my personality, they were completely different. 


They could talk. 


Many had shouted and cried. Pleaded and begged. All through the iron-like bars of our prison cells. As to what for, I had no idea. These weren't cries for freedom from their cages, but from freedom from… The ink?

After a week or so, I was examined by a man that had light wrinkles, beginning to stress-gray hair, and silver eyes, the first words that he had told me was that I was not Boris. I tried to protest against the man, tried to tell him that I am indeed Boris and that the years upon years in which I had spent learning about myself are impossible to be lies. But he only shook his head disappointingly. 


“You cannot be Boris, not if you cannot speak.”


The man told me in a completely monotonous tone, which only seemed to infuriate me even further at how idiotic the man actually was. Did he honestly think that I, a cartoon character which has never talked on paper or film EVER, would be able to talk? 

With his ignorance, steam had shot out of my ears, making his eyes widen only for a low chortle to escape his lips. 


“So I see you have the same cartoon qualities that the little Devil has, huh…” The silver eyed man muttered, making my eyes grow wide. The little devil? Does that mean that Bendy is here with me? That Bendy had been dragged out after me? 

Kind and joyful Bendy, who was although somewhat mischievous, was still such a kind and sweet cartoon at heart. No matter how much food I may have stolen from him, my little ol’ cartoon buddy would never get mad. He was always there to cheer me up. He… He was here? What about Alice? Was she here as well?


As if seeming to know my question, the mans eyes had grown sharper immediately. 


“You wanna meet him?” He asked, making me gulp nervously. Something was very very off with him. I couldn't put my claw on it, but I knew… He was not like the rest of humans or like me.

Cautiously, I gave the man a slight nod which in turn made his face split into an ear to ear grin. Then, with a simple wave of his hand, a very familiar figure came in. 

Standing 2 feet tall and with little ink prints trailing behind him with each step, the little dancin’ demon himself had approached me. With his wide pie-cut eyes and familiar inky horns, I couldn't help the relieved smile that happened to grow onto my hidden mouth. However, that smile quickly disappeared as my ears tucked back to my head in disappointment at the sight of his tail. Bendy didn't have a tail. This wasn't Bendy. 


My assumptions were only confirmed even more when a disturbingly wide and toothy smile, a smile that was even wider compared to his usual classic one, grew onto Bendy’s face. Even more to my horror, the other ink beings that had stood behind me began to cower away from the bars in which had caged us in. I however stood firm yet confused. Was he my little buddy? Was he my Bendy? 


When the little thing opened his mouth to speak, I had instantly understood. 

“Well Joey ol’ pal, how long do I have to toy with this one?”

The thing standing before me was NOT Bendy. 


He was ruthless. Every single day that little fake Bendy would find a way to torture me. 

He’d never actually hurt me, but it was obvious to me that he did not understand how to make friends. I had tried to be nice to the ink being at first, but I found it hard with his constant cruel and malicious tricks. 


From locking me into dark rooms (he knew from the comics that I was scared of the dark), to playing his games of chase in broken down levels of the studio. 

It got even worse at the end of his torture, where he would make me choose between Boris clones as to who would be harmed. I could never choose, which in turn made him harm both (unwilling) participants. 


He eventually got bored of me when my panic attacks had become so insistent to the point that i'd begin to huddle to the ground and shake with just the sight of him. 

You see, I never particularly thought that the fake Bendy was evil. I just thought he was a being that had never been given the chance to be a cartoon or to be happy. I wanted him to be happy, in fact I wanted everyone to be happy! A cartoons most purest joy is to make others happy. That is why they exist in the first place. It's to simply make people smile. That’s why, despite all that he had done to me and how scared I actually was of him, not once did I ever want him to be punished or hurt. Not once did I blame him for how he was. Neither did I ever blame Joey for that matter. 

And that was a huge mistake. 

Before I knew it, one by one, Boris’s along with other clones alike had begun disappearing. As to how and by who, it was by none other thanks to one of the Alice Angels. 

There were two Alice Angels, one that would force people to call her Alice Angel (while most called her Physical Alice behind her back), and then there was the sweet and kind Allison Angel, who had unmistakable beauty and heart. She was a cautious person, yet always stood by her beliefs. While Physical Alice had become a complete narcissist that would use the Boris clones to make herself more beautiful, Allison Angel, although she couldn’t remember much about herself, was a selfless and kind being that had clear hatred towards Joey Drew, Physical Alice, and Bendy. 


It was somewhat ironic that the two angels were the only ones who could actually see that I was the real Boris. Because of this, “Alice Angel” had decided to leave me alone. According to her, although she hated perfection like myself, she was Alice Angel, and Alice Angel would never harm one of her supposed friends from the comics. 

Her reasoning was indeed off, but as long as it kept me alive, I didn't care. What I did care about however was how the Boris’s would one by one die off and disappear from their cell. Through the months upon months I had spent with them, I had become attached to each and every one of them. When all of them were gone… That was the first time in my life in which I had realized that not everybody can be happy from cartoons, and that not every cartoon can be happy. I wasn't happy. I was alone. 

So, in order to survive, I became used of being alone. 

Allison had stopped visiting me, and the only people to come down would be Joey and occasionally Physical Alice. On very rare days, I would see a boy with golden-blonde hair, pale and freckled skin, and the bluest of eyes pass by, but besides that, I had no interactions. Even the malicious little devil had stopped visiting me, and I had become all alone. 


That is, until that day. 



The ground had rumbled and the roofs had shook. I shot up out of my fetal position, my inky gloved hands wrapping around the iron bars as I had attempted to look around to find anybody, anybody at all. And there I saw him. It was the man who had created me, the same man with those kind and unforgettable E/C eyes that held such a unique shade and life to them. However, that said life in his usually serene eyes was gone as a literal monster straight from ones nightmares was chasing after him. 


The thing looked to be 15 feet tall. Its upper body was massive, with his well built and toned arms and large fists in which acted as his legs as he chased after sweet ol’ Henry. Ink dripped off of his malnourished yet muscled body, his malformed legs swaying back and forth like a clock on a pendulum as he ran with his fists alone after the familiar cartoonist/animator. My heart twisted and pounded at the same time, both done all in fear for the mid 20’s man in front of me. When he saw me, his E/C eyes shot open in surprise as he skidded to a stop. 


“B-Boris!?” He gasped in surprise. Before he was able to say or do anything else though, the monster that was chasing him had caught up, and in less than a second, the thing had managed to swing his arm like a Chinese meteor hammer and destroy the bars that had held me in. 

Luckily the both of us had ducked in time, and before one could do anything to the other, Henry was already running  away down the halls. Immediately after, the beast made of ink had followed behind. 


When they were out of sight, I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. I was worried for the man which had created me, but more than that, I knew that I had to get out of there, that I had to hide. 


And by the next time I had come out of hiding, everything had changed for the worse.

Chapter Text


-Your P.O.V.-


You just knew, a voice seemed to scream at you in the back of your head that once you leave the safe house… You’ll never be able to get back in. In all honesty, a large part of you didn't want to leave. Not because you liked it at the sanctuary, in all truth that’s far from it (you're sick of the ink), but because you know that once you leave, you will not be safe again for a long while. That's what your gut seemed to scream at you. Not to mention, you’ll miss your new friend. 


With a shaky sigh, you set out the now open door, only to jump what seemed like ten-thousand feet when you saw that Boris was already outside, calmly waiting for you. What startled you even further was that he had a bone in his mouth. You definitely weren't expecting that. However, the sight was cute as hell nonetheless. 


Holding back an awe for the adorable ink wolf, you had begun walking down the poorly lit hallways all by yourself. When you turned a corner to see a Bendy poster placed right up against the point of a wall, the adoration that you felt for Boris disappeared almost immediately at the sight. 

There it was again… That feeling of unease. Like you were being watched. Not to mention, you felt… Faint?


With a shake of your head, you told yourself that you were just being paranoid, and continued walking. The reassurance quickly left you however when you laid eyes onto a who-knows-how-long hallway that was pitch black. There was no way in hell that you were going through that hall, not without some light. 

And thankfully, as if your prayers had been answered, what you assumed to be a vintage 1940’s military flashlight was placed calmly on a desk that was only a mere inch or two to your right. With a sigh of relief, and remembering the old flashlights that your Grunkle had owned, you successfully turned the large trinket on, and immediately, the pitch dark hallways filled with a slight yellow glow. 


Walking in, what you met your eyes with was a machine hooked up to the wall that had levers and gears which spewed smoke due to who knows how long the thing has been been on. As you turned the corners, you noticed that a large and long section of the flooring had a grate over it which covered up pipes that you could only assume were for ink. With a sigh from both you and Boris which was now coming from your behind, you had begun to walk through, the hissing and mechanical whirs only seemed to get louder the more you traveled. However, at only a few steps in, you realized that Boris was not following you. 


“Boris?” You said aloud as you shot the flashlight back, and sure enough, the pure-hearted cartoon was still at the now-closed gate, crouching onto the ground as he was shaking like a leaf. Your eyes now tender and concerned, you crouched your own body down to the cartoon character, setting the flashlight in front of the pair of you, and gave him a hug. 


“It’ll all be okay. The dark scares me quite a bit too. But I promise, we’ll make it through this, and I will allow NOTHING to harm you along the way. Understand?” You asked his shaking form which you wrapped yourself even closer to. 

By your words and actions, Boris visibly calmed down as he stood up off the floor. Then, with a positive shake of his head in conformation to your words, you took his hand in yours, allowing him to walk in front of you as you made sure to keep the flashlight on his body. You didn't want him being scared again. 


From there it was a long walk down the curving and filled with turns hallway. Scattering was heard above the pair of you at one point, which you both had decided to dutifully ignore. 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you reached the end of the pathway, the hallways having now a dim light, to both yours and Boris’s relief. Unfortunately for your duo team however, the gate was locked. 


“God dammit” You cussed under your breath. “Now how are we gonna get out?” You asked. 


Boris, being the little mute genius that he is, held up his finger to his flews, signaling you to shush. After he took the flashlight from your hands, he then walked over, crouched, and then fucking pried the vent off from the side of the wall and crawled in. Your jaw was to the ground as you watched the terrified of the dark cartoon crawl into a not only dark, but cramp space. You gotta admit, the wolf had more guts than you had realized. 


You kept your eyes on the vent all the while. Even after the thing had slid back into space, you kept your eyes on it. It was only when you heard scattering from above did you begin to shoot your head around. And thankfully you did, for soon you had realized that you were locked in! Shit!

Your attention was taken from you yet again as loud sounds of now banging was heard from above. Eyes trailing the invisible noise yet again, you were kept unsure of the entire situation until, to your relief, the gate in front of you had opened. After waiting a few minutes to see if Boris was possibly coming back, you had decided to continue on your journey, trusting the scarred yet brave wolf that you're quite sure has PTSD to stay safe. Turning your eyes towards the open gateway, naturally, a huge fucking Bendy sticker just had to be at the end of the hallway. 


“For fucks sake…” You mumbled to yourself at the cartoon beings inked up face. However, the further you had walked, the less irritated you had become. What had become a sticker at the end of a hallway ended up turning into a split. Before you knew it, you had walked into what you knew would've once been a child’s paradise. 


The roof was high up on the ceiling and the room had what looked like large and plush stuffed animals of both Boris and Bendy scattered around the space. Two of what you had assumed to be some of the plushest and whitest couches that you had ever seen sat across from one another in between pillars. A few of the Bendy cut-outs were placed here and there, which honestly didn’t bother you as much as they probably should’ve. There was 2 lines of fencing in the center of the room, but you ignored the fencing due to the sight in front of you. 

What really took your breath away was what was at the back wall. A tall and large fountain was spurting with ink. You couldn't begin to imagine how lovely it must’ve once looked before the water had become tainted black. At the top of the fountain was a sign that had read “Heavenly Toys” , and underneath it there was written the now common words of “Joey Drew Studios” , the sight of the mans name making you cringe. 

The ink had over flowed the tub, but luckily it seemed that none was seriously scattered around the ground. In between both sides of the fountain was a staircase. 


This Heavenly toys room seemed so rustic, and inky, and yet… So beautiful. 


You couldn't help but eye the plushies and white couches. Your bones ached from the wood and due to your beginning to start starvation and your dehydration. You were becoming exhausted much quicker from just walking alone, and you needed food and/or water, and soon. Without it, the only way that you could keep yourself moving was with rest. It was also the only way to ignore the pain coursing through your entire being. 


Despite your body’s state, you knew that you could make it. You had to.

Humans can survive without any food for 30-40 days, as long as they are properly hydrated. Severe symptoms of starvation begin around 35-40 days, and death can occur at around 45 to 61 days. In other words, with enough water, a human generally have a max of 40 days. 


However, considering the facts that you have roughly 10 ounces of water left in your 16 ounce water bottle, and have eaten only 5 granola bars in a span of 8 days, you knew that your days were considerably shortened. A human can only live without water for around 5-10 days, and after that, you're dead. 


It was without a doubt you were not getting enough water or food intake. 


You could feel the beginning symptoms of dehydration begin to sink in. You were so tired, and everything was dizzy. You haven't peed in 5 days now, and your heart has been beating rapidly which was right along pace with your breathing. Not to mention, your head pounded and your stomach twisted. Your guess was that you had 0 to 5 days, possibly even a week to get out if you ration your small amount of water properly.



You didn't feel the symptoms of dehydration very strongly at Boris’s Sanctuary, but that’s because of the safe room being stuffy, making your head hurt, and you haven't been moving much at all. 

The water that Boris had in the sinks wasn't safe to drink, as ink had covered the faucets. You would've been poisoned and possibly turned into an ink monster. You’d rather dehydrate or starve to death than be stuck in a studio for the rest of your existence. Besides, you wanted to help the cartoons out. You always have. 


If- no- when you got out of here, then… Then you’ll make sure to save them. You weren't sure how or when, but you knew that if you are unable to free them from the ink, then that the least you could do was free them from their very own minds. Like you had begun to do with Sammy. You wouldn't be able to do that if you were tied down with the ink. That's why you aren't taking any chances. That's why you are dying. 


You couldn't die. You needed to prolong your life. You needed to stay awake.


Still though, as much as you hated it, nothing could change the fact that your mind was muddled due to lack of liquid and nutrients. 

Your tired and beginning to sink eyes had been glaring laser spots into the white fabric for who knows how long by now. Then, finally, you had snapped. 


You wobbled your heavy body over to the fountain and grabbed a decently sized Bendy plushy. Then, walking over to the couch nearest to the left entryway, the one with a body-sized Bendy plushy sitting next to it, with an irritable face, you grabbed the cut-out near your prize a and tossed them across the room. With an irritable mutter, you spoke to the fallen signs as you settled your body onto the couch. 


“Sorry if this offends you your highness.” You said, referring to (the possibly watching) Bendy then continued. “At the moment however, I am starving to death along with dying due to lack of water, and i've been sleeping on what felt like a cutting board for the past 8 days. So, please excuse me, but I need sleep before I begin snapping every fucking black and ink 2-dimensional face my eyes land on.” 


Then with that final sentence, you flopped down onto the couch, your head resting on the stomach of the stuffed animal. Just like you had expected, the sofa was truly comfortable, and before you knew it, you had passed out. 



-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


The human, at the moment, was being extremely entertaining. 


When Bendy had finally landed his eyes onto Y/N’s figure after 8 whole days of not seeing her, the relief that the demon had felt could not be expressed with words alone. A cluster of feelings had filled the beings chest at the mere sight of the perfectly sculpted girl, none of which he knew the names of and all of which he had ignored. 


After she had traveled through the hallway with Boris, to Bendy’s joy, she had arrived on the other side of the hall alone. Whenever Bendy saw Y/N with Boris, or just thinking about Boris or Sammy beside her… Something would prickle and sting at the demons chest. He didn't like it. So it was certainly a huge relief when he saw Y/N alone. Thanks to that, he had no pain in his chest. 


Now though, Bendy’s chest was filled with entertainment as he watched the human stare at the Heavenly Toys in wonder and awe. It was a new expression on her face that Bendy has never had the joy of seeing till now, so how could he not be happy? 


When Bendy was able to take in the state of her figure. 


She had a black and blue ring around her eye and her cheek was tinted with patches of the same color combination. What made it even worse was that Bendy could see even more traces of black and blue on her stomach, underneath her thin camisole. And her skin… It was so pale and sickly looking. Her eyes were just as bad if not worse. The color was dimmed and her peepers almost appeared sunken in. The demon couldn't help but wonder what in the hell had happened to her?


As if hearing his confusion, Y/N had suddenly started moving. She marched/wobbled over to the fountain and snatched a medium sized Bendy plushy, snuggling the thing into her arms which in turn made Bendy’s ink hot. However, that heat immediately went back to room temperature as the brat chucked all of Bendy’s cut-outs that were around a couch across the room. If it weren't for the curiosity he had for her, Bendy would've strangled the little bitch right then and there. 


“Sorry if this offends you your highness.” You said, making one of Bendy’s hidden eyes twitch. 

“At the moment however, I am starving to death along with dying due to lack of water…”


All noises seemed to die off as Bendy’s body stiffened like stone on his throne, ink running cold. 












“WHAT!?” Bendy growled out as his ink steamed. And with that, his resolve to be indifferent with her had broken. 


“Y/N was dying!? How in the hell was MY Y/N dying!?” Bendy thought as his ink continued to simmer. He couldn't believe his non-existent ears at what his sweet and precious human was saying! She couldn't be dying, not her! 


Angered beyond control, Bendy allowed his ink to run rampant throughout the studio for a few seconds, only to regain the control he had on it with remembering that Y/N was sleeping. Forcing himself to be calm, Bendy had made himself remember the snippets of what Y/N had said before he lost his cool. If Bendy continued to be angry, then he would end up in his beast form. If he ended up in his beast form, then Bendy knew that he would be unable to be of any help for Y/N right now. And right now, bendy NEEDED to help his Y/N. 


“I am starving to death along with dying due to lack of water…” Is what Y/N had said. So in other words, Bendy just needs to get her clean water and safe to eat food, right? 


The demons smile appeared back onto his face as he knew what he needed to do. 


Wandering out of his throne room, Bendy made his way back to the main entrance of the studio. 

Then, wobbling on unsteady feet into the boarded off bathroom, Bendy had grabbed an old and clean canteen that he had found years ago from the sink, and then the demon turned on the faucet, filling it to the brim with liquid life. 

The reason why Bendy blocked off this bathroom was because it was the only room that had piping untainted with ink. Water was harmful to ink beings, and for some reason, Bendy was never able to find the right pipe to taint the sink with. 


Then, the next thing on the demons agenda was to go down to an old closet. Bendy made sure his ink was hardened at this point as he looked through the few clothes that had been left behind. He didn’t wish to stain any cloth. 

The inky creatures eyes eventually landed on a pair of flame printed cowboy boots and a red and green plaid button up. The shoes seemed to be the right size, and the plaid shirt, although indeed over-sized, seemed very warm. 

With a smile, Bendy made his way off to his last task. Her food. 


The demon had made his way into one of the few kitchens that the studio had. If the demons memory serves correctly, he remembers their being some food in a very high cupboard many years ago, and sure enough. There, in the same cupboard, was an unopened bag of what was read as dried pinto beans. They seemed fresh enough. 

Turning the bag over, Bendy read the directions which mentioned boiling water and a need for a pot. 

Grabbing a clean pot and bringing it to the untainted bathroom to fill with water, Bendy had then walked his way down to Heavenly Toys instead of transporting through, knowing that if he traveled through his ink that the pot would be tainted. 


It was somewhat odd to the ink demon. Just like Y/N had surely wanted, Bendy also wished for her to have as well. He wanted her to survive. He wanted his human to survive as a human. He didn't want her to be stained with ink. In all reality, Bendy wanted her to be happy. 


Setting down all the materials in front of the couch, along with one of his cut-outs so the demon could keep an eye on her, Bendy then left through the fountain of ink as he waited for the girl to wake up in his throne room. All the while, the demon had watched through the expertly placed cut-out to ensure her safety. If anything happened, Bendy would teleport over to his human instantly. And to the demons greatest joy, she was left unharmed. Untainted.

Chapter Text


-Your P.O.V.-


At the moment, you were really unsure on how you were supposed to feel. 


Apparently, while you were taking your 20 some minute nap, somebody had managed so sneak around the studio, and had grabbed you food, water, clothes, boots, and even a fucking pot filled to the brim with water. Not only that, but this genius had decided to place a fucking Bendy cut-out a foot away from your body, right next to the supplies. 

Although you were appreciative towards the mysterious stranger, the sight was also kinda sad. With the fact that the shirt was crumpled, the canteen was tipped, and the boots (instead of the common placement,) were placed at a left boot at right and right boot at left position. 

What makes the sight even sadder is that you obviously are unable to cook the beans without anything to light a fire with. 


With a sigh, your sunken E/C eyes scanned the room, hoping to spot some wood, and when your eyes landed on a familiar pile of broken planks, you immediately felt a small sweat begin to form on your brow. 


“The Bendy cut-outs”


You were REALLY out of it before you took your nap, because you don’t even remember tossing those cartoon boards across the room. Clearly though, you did, if the broken apart cut-outs for when you chucked them onto the fencing wasn't obvious enough. And you're pretty sure there were some cut outs on the white couch before you laid down on it, and now they're gone. Honestly, it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together


With a sigh, and a mumbling of a silent plead to not be massacred for what you were about to do, you walked over to the cut-outs to find that they were dry and free from ink. The planks were splintered, revealing the unpainted wood underneath which was exactly what you needed to start a fire. 

Hauling back a small pile, you made your way over to the couch where the food supplies were gathered. Knowing that the wood of the floors could possibly set the whole room on fire, you had decided to carry all the heavy materials back over to the pathway with that huge Bendy face poster. Luckily enough, the hallway was part metal gate and part wood, meaning that you could sit safely on the wood while the fire did its work on the beans atop of the metal flooring. 


When you had a stable pile of wood on top of the grate, you had made sure to leave a pot sized space in the middle to set the water on. Then, after rubbing some of the wood pieces together, you started the fire, making sure that none of the wood got in the water. 


Peering inside the canteen, you had decided that you weren't gonna take the risk and had poured the water inside of the pot that still had its original water inside. The canteen seemed clean enough, but you weren't about to trust this places water supply with all the ink that is in the studio. Luckily enough for you, the pot which had water in it had way more than needed already for boiling beans. You hoped that by boiling all the water that you had in the pot would allow you to be able to fill up your canteen as well as your remaining water bottles so that you could have enough to drink, and possibly make even more beans in the future. Boiling water is the quickest way to clean it of impurities, or so you have heard. 


Unscrewing the plastic cap, you had begun to take small sips of the remainder of your liquid life, the H2O running down your dry and scratchy throat while moistening your dry tongue to such a satisfying degree. You made sure to not drink it all at once, knowing that if you did then you’d most likely get sick. 

By the time you were done with the bottle, the water in the pot was boiling. 

With a smile, you took the discarded canteen and dunked the metal into the pot, making sure to hold the container by the fabric side strap as to not burn yourself. When it was filled to the brim, you had begun to distribute the water into your water bottles, grateful that the liquid wasn’t hot enough to melt the plastic since it had only just started boiling. To your joy, the canteen filled up both plastic bottles perfectly, meaning that once you filled the metal carrier, then you’d have 64 ounces of water, or half a gallon of water in total! 


When that was done, you then moved on to filling the canteen up in the same manner that you did prior. Once it was filled to the brim with water, you quickly screwed the cap back on and put it inside your bag, knowing full well that if you were to carry the hot metal by your side, then you’d most likely be burned. You kept the water bottles out in hopes of cooling them off a little before handling them. 


When you were done with the task of re-hydrating yourself, you turned your attention back to the pot, or rather, the fucking cauldron. The thing was huge, and it still had way too much water inside of it! You’d guess that the pot had a 5 gallon hold, meaning that it still had 4.5 gallons left behind. And considering their was only 32 ounces of beans and now 576 ounces of water, you weren’t sure if the ratios were entirely correct. Not to mention, although it's possible to make dried beans without soaking, it was still risky. 

You decided to do the recipe that your Grunkle taught you. If you remember correctly, you had to boil the beans for 1 to 1 and a half hours, stirring occasionally, and with his recipe (although it tasted terrible), you didn’t have to soak the beans! Without the salt however, it would take longer but after your 20 minute nap, you really didn't have time to leave Boris waiting. What to do...


It was then in your moment of desperation that you got the most genius idea that you have ever had. 





“Alright. In hindsight, the results seemed like they'd be much better…” You thought to yourself as a light flush made way to your cheeks. 


It has been roughly an hour since you poured half of the uncooked bag of beans into the pot. After leaving them to cook for 25 minutes, and after a 20 minute cool-down time (All this time being roughly since there was no clock), you had decided that you would allow the beans to soak the rest of the way in the pot while you continued traveling. After drinking over half of the hot water from the cauldron, you began your walk deeper into the studio…


With a pot tied to your stomach. 


You needed food, alright? And you didn't necessarily need to wear the plaid shirt right away. So, after some careful tying and buttoning, you had managed to make a makeshift holder that you would actually probably do again if you ever adopted a baby and forgot a stroller. The sleeves were tied around your neck as tight as possible while the bottom of the shirt had been partially buttoned around your waist and then tied again. It was seriously sturdy, and you were kinda proud of yourself! 


Naturally, you’d be more proud of yourself if it weren't for the fact that your mouth and dominant hand was covered in bean paste at the moment as you continued to shovel the partially cooked beans down your gullet like a baby bird. Jesus, no wonder why your father didn’t love you. 


You had finally managed to yank all of those blasted stuffed animals out of the production machinery. They were in there quite tightly, and it seriously took a lot of work. The machine seemed to make stuffed animals of the three main characters of the show and comic. Once you got everything unstuck, to your surprise and joy, the productions tarted back up!

You couldn't help yourself as you took a fresh made doll of Bendy, Boris, and Alice, which all fit quite nicely in your bag. 

You’ve loved them much longer than you hated them. 

And yeah, you may be superstitious, but even you couldn't help but acknowledge that the chances of the stuffed animals being possessed or whatever are like zero point something percent. 


After your dutiful work to the machine was done along with listening to another creepy cassette that was placed up near this awesome malleable ink like substance, you had decided to move on, stuffing beans in your face all the while as you casually strolled. 

Through a door and up ahead of you was a sign that said “She’s quite a gal!” and underneath it, along with the right and the left walls, were indoor windows, similar to the one that you saw in the recording room down at the music department. 

In the right window were stuffed Alice toys that were all carefully placed onto a rack for display. There were 5 small televisions in the room along with a camera that was on its stand. Two barrels and a crate were placed near the farthest window, making you draw your attention even more to the last wall. It was then that you noticed that the window was broken, and just beyond it was a door. As you headed towards the eerie exit, a sudden click resounded throughout the room.  


“What the-”


You were cut off as the room turned black. Before you were able to form any words of confusion, the televisions all turned on to the same channel. 


“Ahh! Hehe~!” 


A voice laughed through the speakers, making you shoot your head up to the ancient devices. There, on the center of each television, was a picture of the sweet little angel that you have all come to know and love. There, to your horror, a song had begun to fill the inky encased walls.


“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!”


Despite the cheery tune, even you could tell that something was very very wrong with the entire situation. 


“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!”


You remembered Sammy’s words back right before Bendy had chased you all those days ago. He said something along the lines of “Physical Alice and her narcissistic ass…” which at the moment, you couldn't agree more to. You’ve never actually noticed this in the comics from the way Alice presented herself on paper, but those lyrics… They really do seem egotistical. 

If it weren't for Sammy, you probably wouldn't have noticed anything. You stood there in silence as you waited for the song to end. 


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

This gal can grant your every wish…”


“Wait… Physical… Alice?” Just as realization dawned across your face, you were much too late. 

 A hand clasped onto your shoulder, making your body jolt. Nervous sweat was racing down your re-hydrated face as you stood there, stiff as a board as the wet and inky smelling palm kept you still. Just when you willed yourself to turn your head around, you were unable to as hot and irony breath breathed into your exposed ear...



“I'm Alice Angel.”


And with that, all the lights flickered back on. You being left as the only body in the room. 


It was safe to say that you weren't very hungry anymore…

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


To the left of you was a sign that read “The Demon”, while the right read “The Angel”. You weren't sure what to make of these signs, since at the moment you were doing the important task of eating your beans, which you had decided to eat despite the scare that Alice gave you earlier. You’ve been starving after all, and food tastes really good at the moment. It was only when you finally scraped out the last of the beans, discarded the too large to carry pot, wiped the paste off onto your completely ruined former F/C penguin pajama pants, and slipped the shockingly warm button-up onto your form that you had finally began to examine the signs. 

What are the chances that “The Demon” path is for Bendy The Dancin’ Demon, while “The Angel” path is for Alice Angel? Or could the paths be split because Alice Angel is half angel and half demon? 

You doubted that you were correct with the second reason, and you felt like you were most likely more accurate with your first assumption. So then, it leaves you to the options of who do you wish to find out more about? Who are you most curious about? 

While Physical Alice or Alice Angel or whatever seemed… interesting, Bendy was who you were really confused about. You had so many odd interactions with the demon; from him trying to kill you to just semi-casually talking to you. 

He pushed you yeah, and although you are convinced that he meant to harm, the second time the two of you talked he was completely passive. And the third time… He left you unharmed and alive? Besides the bump on your head that you gave yourself, did he ever actually attempt to physically harm you in any way? He had a perfect chance to kill you, and he didn't, did he?

Your eyes were wide and your jaw was dropped. 

You… never actually registered the fact that although he didn't harm you any further after passing out, he, in reality, had the… perfect chance to kill you, and he didn't. Instead, you awoke in the safe room. 

You know for a fact that Boris would be way too scared to ever go out and help you get away from Bendy, and you don't blame him. You know just as well as he does how deeply traumas can stem into your decisions, and to you, it appeared that Boris instinctively avoids areas that Bendy reins over. Unless if it's to help others out of the studio of course.

Which leaves you with how you were able to get to Boris’s sanctuary without Boris’s help. 


Could it have been Sammy? 


No, Sammy was in the music department holding the demon off. He wouldn't have left like that, right? 


Sure, Sammy was messed up in the head, but he was not a coward. 


And yeah, you could see Sammy telling Bendy of your location, since it is natural for the former man to please and listen to his ex-lord, and if he did, you honestly couldn't be mad at him. Just like you and Boris, the three of you have relied on instinct so long with certain things towards your actions that you just tend to do your sad habits without realization. 

So then, what if Sammy had disclosed your location and in turn, Bendy went to find you. Bendy is an unstable demon, so whatever interaction that he had with Sammy could’ve possibly made him lose his sanity and what if… that made Bendy chase you? 


You shook your head back and forth, knowing how unlikely that being the case actually is. Bendy doesn't care for you, right? It’s impossible for him to care for you! I mean, besides talking to him, where are the signs that he has ever cared for you? 

“The beans and water…” Your mind thought against your will. 

It was then you remembered that right by all the beans and water… Why didn't you think of this before, in all honesty you are such an idiot sometimes! But right by the stuff, directly in front of you, was a cut-out. 

And remember just before Sammy freaked out and told you to leave his department? What did he say?


“Well, he most likely traveled through his ink portals to arrive here, pseudo teleportation if you will, and as to how he knew you were being attacked, he most likely saw it through hi-” Sammy cut himself short and you watched in confusion as he shot his head back to the balcony that had a familiar cut-out on it. 

“He… Heard it all…” Sammy muttered to himself in horror. Shooting his wide inky eyes over to you, he spoke. 




“You need to leave”



It was like Bendy had left you a signature. He was there, he was the one who gave you the food and water, the things that you needed to survive. 

You suddenly understood why you always felt so paranoid and uncomfortable every time you saw those cut-outs. It wasn't just the fact that they were creepy as hell… the demon of this place has been watching you the entire time. And not only that, but he… Saved you? 

“Could he-” You quickly cut that other unconscious thought with a shake of your head. The chances of him caring for you are literally almost impossible, you should just drop that thought all together, let's be realistic. 

However, there is no doubt in your mind now that Bendy the Ink Demon wants you alive. For what reasons, you are entirely unsure of. And you weren't planning on finding out his reasons either. After all, everyone knows how the sane goes:


Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.


Still though, you have always been quite the curious type… 


Eyeing the path to the left, you decided that since your curiosity hasn't killed you yet, you might as well take the risk. 

You chose the path of the demon.

Chapter Text

“There's nothing wrong with dreaming. Wishing for the impossible is just human nature. That's how I got started. Just a pencil and a dream. We all want everything without even having to lift a finger. They say you just have to believe.


Belief can make you succeed.

Belief can make you rich.

Belief can make you powerful.


Why with enough belief, you can even cheat death itself.


Now that… is a beautiful, and positively silly thought.”





-Your P.O.V.-


You stood in the middle of the disgustingly ink covered room with your eyes bulging out of your skull as the tape finished its play-through with the classic mechanical whir. 

That tape… Was utterly terrifying, and that's to say the least. It was horrific how smooth every single word glided off the mans tongue was as he casually implemented the possibility of immortality. And he said it in such a convincing way! Drawing in the listeners with his relatability and positive personality. Yet the end… The end of that tape, the more you think about it, was just oh so disturbing. The idea that belief can make you cheat death, cheat the inevitable that comes with being alive. 


The more you think about it, the more you realize that this man on tape is most likely Joey Drew. 


A shiver crawled up and down your spine with the realization that the man on tape, the same man who is talking about reaching for literal stars… This man was actually able to grasp one, and now you are inside his star. His fucked up, explosive star that inhabits halls filled to the brim with immortalizing ink and suffering beings that crave to see the sun just one more time, just one more glance. 

The real question of all this is did Joey reach up to grasp his star, or reach down? Because the way you see it, this place is so fucked up that it could have only been created in the deepest and darkest depths of hell. Forget the sky, this man was reaching out for the hand of Hades himself!

With another shudder, you sludged your way on through the rest of the small and inky room, only to open a door which leads to an even “grander” hallway. With an irritated sigh, you walked your way down even further, a slight happiness inside of you for being able to have energy, but most of your thoughts filled with worry towards the condition of that sweet ‘ol wolf. 


After walking over a metal grate, you reached a door. Upon opening it, naturally, there's even more hallway! Great. At least it’s shorter… 

You were only able to go down a little bit of the hallway before you stopped walking, dead in your tracks as one of those fucking cut-outs popped it's head out around the corner, only to pop back in like the weasel that demon is. 


Now somewhat irritated and equally frightened, you stomped your way over to the other side of the hallway, only to have a pleasant surprise. 

“Boris!” You yelled as you ran up to him. He seemed just as relieved as you did as he wrapped his arms around your form, his body shaking ever so slightly as he did so. Your gaze couldn't help but grow tender at the sweet wolfs concern, as you decided to reciprocate the hug, wrapping your own arms around his waist and placing your head on his chest. Thankfully he didn’t have the bone in his mouth anymore, the thing (although adorable,) would've prevented you from giving this sort of embrace back.


“I'm okay buddy. I'm okay, and I am so sorry for worrying you. I promise you, I’m okay…”


You felt so guilty! You completely forgot and disregarded the wolf when you were away from him. Given, you were starving and truly couldn't think clearly, but that didn't make you feel any less bad as you held the sensitive and goofy cartoon in your arms as you began to gently rock your bodies back and forth. 


After a few minutes, you parted from the hug, both of you appearing as joyous as can be. You had a large and happy smile on your face while the wolfs flews were slightly raised into a grin. It seemed as if no words needed to be conveyed between the two of you, as your smiling faces were able to say it all. 

“Should we get going?” You asked him, and in response, the wolf nodded his head. Just as you were going to open the door, Boris stopped you by grasping your shoulder. Curious, you shot your head back at him, a single eyebrow raised. It was only when he presented you with a pipe did your face scrunch up. Immediately, you knew what he wanted you to use it for.


“I… I can't use that.”


The canine’s invisa-brows crinkled upwards in confusion at your words, leading you to have to explain to him of… Some sensitive things. 


“Y-you should just keep it yourself Boris. I… I can't fight. I literally cannot.” You explained. 

Sure, after your encounter with your ex, your Grunkle did give you military training, as well as signed you up for kickboxing and karate classes (Both of which you succeeded greatly in (You even have a black belt in karate)), but you certainly weren't as fit as you used to be back when you graduated those classes at 16 (starting said classes at 14). Although you probably still could fight, you’d get tired easily. And even despite all the self defense classes and what-not, you still couldn't fight to protect yourself, especially with a weapon. There was no point in taking a weapon from Boris that you would be incapable of using, it's a senseless thing to do when he could instead use the pipe as a weapon for himself. 


Still though, to your shock, despite your words of concern, the wolf continued to hold out the weapon, even going as far as shoving it into your hands. When your confused by his actions eyes met his, you could practically feel the flames of his determination as he stared into your wide orbs with his pie-cut own. 

A smile grew onto your face as you tucked the weapon into your satchel which now has half or so bag of dried beans, a canteen with water, and two other water bottles inside, all of those things surprisingly provided by the ink demon of this place. 

Maybe… maybe you should talk to Boris about it. Sure, he’d be scared shitless, but it just feels like it’s something you should tell him. After all, you two are in this together, and he seemed really worried for you when you got here. He deserves an explanation, even if it's only a half truth. 


With that final thought, the two of you began your walk down another hallway. 

-Boris’s P.O.V.-


“H-hey Boris?” Y/N cautiously spoke, causing the wolf to turn his head over at the hesitant girl. “I… err, feel like I sorta owe you an explanation as to why I took so long. Wh… what I say may startle you. Is that okay?” 


Boris thought your words were odd, after all, you seem like such a confident and worry free sort of individual. However, at the moment, the way you're saying your words is almost as if you are walking on thin ice that is crackling with each step. It is uncharacteristic of you to sound like this. 

The wolf didn’t like the fact that you felt worried when you wished to talk to him, but you're just a caring person is all. With a nod of the canine’s head, and with a final sigh escaping your lips, you gave him a short explanation. 


“I… Was starving to death, as well as being nearly completely dehydrated.” 


Boris’s eyes widened in horror as he quickly grasped your shoulders for you to stand still, his body shaking ever so slightly as he began to look you over. 


“I'm fine now Boris, seriously!” You expressed, making him sigh in relief as he released you from his grasp. You continued. 

“I decided to take a quick nap. Since I was so weak from the dehydration and whatnot, I needed to gain energy from elsewhere. My condition only seriously hit me once I left your safe-house. It was definitely a dumb decision for me to make, but I was disoriented, and in the end… I may have fallen asleep on a couch in Heavenly Toys?” 


Boris smacked his forehead. Despite how smart you actually were, you really could be an idiot sometimes. You gave the dog an awkward laugh as you put your hand around three of his wide fingers, yanking his body forward to continue the walk with you. 


“Like I said, i'm fine, in fact, i'm never better. It was the strangest thing, when I awoke, there was a pot near full of water, a bag of dried beans, and a clean canteen placed in front of me! What made it even stranger was-” However, you cut yourself short and stopped dead in your tracks. When Boris walked slightly ahead of you to peer into your face, the wolf could see your hesitation and worry in finishing off the next part of your sentence. He really didn't want you to look so worried. So, slipping his large cartoon fingers out of your hold, the gentle wolf placed his hand onto your shoulder, making you glance up towards him. When your eyes met his, Boris simply shook his head back and forth, his eyes slightly narrowed in affection. Seemingly getting the message across, you gave him a closed eyed small sigh in relief as your E/C met his inky own. 


“Thanks Boris” You said with the sweetest smile upon your lips. The wolf nodded his head up and down in response, knowing full well that you would tell him if you feel the need to. 

After all, in the short time since the two of you had met…


Boris trusted you.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


At the moment, you and Boris were attempting to power on a gate so the two of you could get through. In order to do that, you both had to flip these switches simultaneously. When you finally found your switch, lo and behold, this fucked up ink monster that somewhat looked like Edgar from The Butcher Gang had popped out of a poster, swinging a fucking weapon at you all the while. After picking up and throwing the little crap into a barrel, you quickly flipped the switch and ran down the hallway while yanking Boris along, unsure as to how long the thing will stay contained without a lid to lock him in. 


Then, as sure as shit, when the two of you were halfway down the staircase, one of the strangest noises that you have ever heard in your entire life, along with its little body, had just entered from the other room. 


“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!” You yelled all the while as you yanked Boris along with you. You were desperate, your E/C eyes shooting around in means of escape. When they landed on an elevator, you couldn't help but smile as you practically tossed you and Boris inside, slamming the door button shut. Not a second too soon either, as the metal had rattled and the creature from earlier’s thin little arms were stretching through the bars, attempting to grasp the two of you. You breathed a sigh of relief as both you and Boris sat there on your bums, huffing and heaving. You were safe. 


At least you thought you were.


You and Boris shot your heads towards one another due to the unexpected laughter as the elevator began to move downward. When a crunch and a snap could be heard, both of your eyes immediately shot back towards where the little monster had once stood, now only 2 bloody ink detached limbs being where it once was. The elevator had literally tore them off. Boris shook at the sight while you threw up into your mouth, swallowing the half digested substance back down. 

“I have to say,” The same and familiar voice spoke, “I’m an instant fan. You're so interesting… so different. Looks like you’ve got a date with an An-!”


“U-um…” You stumbled out, cutting off the woman completely. “There are 2 reasons why I must say no to our date. First off is that I don’t swing that way, and second off is that YOU LITERALLY JUST CUT THAT THINGS FUCKING ARMS OFF!” You screeched. At that same moment, Boris had just run to the left gate and threw up a ton of black ink through one of the gaps, only emphasizing your point even more. 





“Just meet me down at level 9.” The woman sighed as the speakers had effectively cut off. 


With this, you sat up off the ground and rushed over to Boris, rubbing his back as he continued to dry heave. “It's okay buddy, it's okay…” You spoke in a caring tone until he stopped heaving. 


“You alright?” You asked, making him shake his head up and down, allowing a relieved sigh to escape your lips. Just as you finished your sigh, both of the gates had opened back up, revealing what you assumed to be level 9. 

“Holy shit…” You muttered under your breath as you looked through the elevator door. What was before you was simply shocking. 


The room appeared to be slightly bigger than the room for Heavenly Toys. To the right was a staircase that was flush to the wall. To the left of you was a pathway, and when you climb down the stairs, that pathway will turn into a balcony, which had pillars and fencing in place instead of walls. From beyond that you could see what looked like 2 metal gates; a much smaller one that almost reminded you of a gate to a front yard, and then a much bigger one.

“Come on, step out of your cage. There’s a whole twisted world out there.


The same voice from before spoke. As you stepped out of the elevator, Boris was trailing behind you. The closer you got, the more you could see. 

Above the very large gate was a cartoon sculpture of the cartoon Alice Angel that seemed to be held up by who-knows-what, and on this sculpture was a sign that read “SHE’S QUITE A GAL!” in all caps. The big gate had these two strange structures between it; one that was like a mailbox or trashcan, and the other was just like the gate that you had opened minutes prior. The pathway to the 2 gates was a bridge that had been blocked off from whatever the hell’s between it with fencing. Right off the staircase was a tape on a cart, and in order to get onto the bridge, you needed to take a quick right, then a left. 

The minute you stepped on the said bridge, Boris was walking right past you, his long legs going at an unimaginably quick pace. 


“Boris?” You asked in worry, but he didn't stop. It was almost as if he was in a trance. With concern creasing your eyebrows, you jogged over to the wolf, and by the time you reached him, he was already in front of the big gate. 


“Boris, what the hell wa-” You began, but cut yourself short as the ground had begun to rattle and shake. Shooting your eyes up, you watched as the largest gate managed to creak itself open, making your heart thud in your chest as you reached into your bag for your weapon. And when the gate was almost open… nobody was there. With a relieved sigh, you lowered your pipe. 

However, in that same second, Boris ran through the yet to be fully opened gates, making your eyes shoot out of your skull as you watched him run in. Shaking your head to snap out of it, you then chased after him, keeping your orbs on the cartoon figure the entire time. When you finally caught up to the wolf, all words had left your mouth as the pipe that was in your hands clattered to the ground. 

In front of you, a large river of ink stood in the center of the room, little nailed together wooden planks being the walkway through to the other side. Usually, you hated the ink, but right now… You couldn't, you were just too horrified. 

In and around, and up and down, corpses upon corpses were hooked up onto their own individual boards with belts to keep them in place. Mutilated corpses, to screaming when killed corpses, butcher gang corpses, and then there were the ones most prominent to you… the corpses of Boris. Tons and tons of the sweet canines look-a-likes scattered all throughout the room, all gutted open and all having the familiar little X’s over their eyes. And the alive Boris… He was standing just a few inches away from the corpse closest to us, peering into its dead eyes with his living own. 

Thanks to your already uneasy stomach from the elevator ride, before you knew it, your head was over the large lake of ink as you managed to throw up the small quantity of food that was left in your stomach. Now feeling even queasier than before, you stumbled back over to Boris, who to your shock, had watery tears running down his snout. Before you were able to comfort him, a loud laugh cut you off. 


HAHAHAHAHA-! How pathetic. How have you managed to survive the studio thus far if the sight of a few corpses is all it takes to make you sick?”


Ohh, you really wanted to slap that woman right now. The voice was slightly distorted from the speaker, but given your previous encounter along with the fact that you’re literally inside of a room that had a humongous head of the angelic cartoon above the door, you could safely assume that the bitch who is blabbing her mouth off right now must be Physical Alice, aka the Angel wanna-be.


Your teeth grinding, the wanna-be decided that now, right after insulting you, is as good of a time as any to talk in that fucking baby voice of hers. Was that supposed to sound sweet or stupid? You weren't sure, but what you are pretty sure of is that if she keeps talking, then you're gonna crack a tooth. 


“Look around. It took so many of them to make me so beautiful. Anything less than perfect was left behind. I had to do it. She made me.”




Looking over at Boris, you see that his cartoon eyes were blown wide in shock as he stared at you. You, panting ever so slightly from your ranting, cocked your head to the side as you spoke between breaths. 

“W… what? I… only said the truth, that's all!” You exclaimed, and by your exclaim, the wolf in front of you put his arms around you, giving your small in comparison body a reassuring squeeze. 

“Thank you…” 

You shot your body out of the wolfs grasp, eyes blown wide in shock. 

That voice was so quiet, it was not even close to being beyond a whisper. It was like someone spoke with using their breath instead of their voice, it was just that quiet. 


When you looked up at Boris, all your confusion from the words were melted into just your imagination as the wolf stared down at you with unbelievably tender eyes that still had trails of clear tears running down from them. He had a very wide smile upon his snout, and before you could form any words, his large cartoon hand was on top of your head. 








He patted you three times then removed his gloved palm from your head. Then he gave you a delicate push from behind. Confused, you shot your head back at him, eyebrow raised. With a single point of the wolfs finger, you immediately knew what he wanted you to do. 


So naturally, you began to cross the ink.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

 Grabbing the pipe, you made your way across. Once you had gotten to the other side of the lake of ink, the gate in front of you had creaked open, revealing a hall made entirely of metal. With a deep inhale, you could feel your shoulders tense as you made your way in. You were only about a minute or so into the small path when you came upon a larger wooden room. 


This said wooden room being where you are standing right now, watching in horror as the mutant Edgar that had gotten the elevator amputation is currently being electrocuted, his body strapped to the familiar belted board during the entire process. You wish that there wasn't a glass screen in the way, otherwise you would've ran over to unstrap the little guy instantly. 

Walking deeper into the room, you had finally noticed that it wasn't only you and Edgar inside.


With long raven hair and an expertly sculpted jaw, a curvy yet natural beauty of a woman had stood behind the glass. 

With her skin tight short black dress which reached halfway down her thigh, and white bows above her chest and in the crease of her back had been expertly placed, giving the dress a seductive, yet cute appearance. 

Her long black coated arms (which stopped below her shoulders), and legs (which covered every visible inch of her lower half), seemed to give the jane such an eerie look, almost like she had soaked her hands in black blood. She was both creepy, yet gorgeous. 

Atop her head was a pair of small white horns, along with half of a halo. Her skin was a sepia yellow, and cartoon like lines were in place of natural human wrinkles. She was like a doll. 


It was only when she turned over to look at you when you realized that something was seriously off. She was missing the entirety of her left eye, and the only thing there was a deep and hollow black void. 

The woman, who you could only assume to be Physical Alice, had turned the power off on the mutant, to your slight relief. However, that relief quickly left you once she had opened her sinful lips. 


“Hmm… Now we come to the question… Do I kill you?... Do I tear you apart to my hearts delight? The choices of the beautiful are unbearable. How’s a girl to choose? I know… I’ll make it your choice. Shall I torture you, or shall I tear your face to shreds? Be grateful… It’s not everyday I let one of my visitors actually make a choice.” She spoke through the glass screen. You just stood there with your eyes wide, mouth agape as it repeatedly opened and closed like a fish out of water. 


“... Are you serious?” You asked as you had finally managed to let some words stumble out of your lips. Your response made the woman laugh, as she flipped her hair back with one of her inky hands. 


“As serious as I am beautiful.” She said with a sly as a vixen smile, her eyes only continuing to peer down at you. She was looking at you like you were her meal, a predators next victim, her prey. Her stare made you want to make that one eyed woman have to use a seeing eye dog for the rest of her life, you were just that pissed. But more than irritated, you were scared. Truly scared for your life and the lives of those around you.

If you couldn't deal with this woman accordingly, then the chances of you making it out of this studio alive are close to zero. Despite being frightened, you can’t show fear. You do not know how to show fear. When you feel fear, your face is unable to express a fearful expression, and instead, it just shows a blank one. That would explain why the woman in front of you looked so confused. 


With this realization, a small huff of humor had escaped your breath. Then, looking up at the broken angel, you gave her a sly smile of your own. 


“Are you truly sure you want to do that?” You asked her, making the edges of her lips tug downward. 


“Oh? But of course, after all… A simple girl like you has nothing to offer towards a perfect being like me!”


“How do you know that?” You asked her, which in turn made the woman laugh loud, hard, and long. 


HAHAHAHAHA! What a stupid mortal, as if you have anything of value to me! Come then, tell me of these ‘oh so valuable’ things that you have! Only then will I believe you” She sneered at you. 


And she definitely caught you there. Luckily you cannot show the fear that you feel right now, otherwise you're pretty sure that you’d be bleeding out in the corner of the room already. So, in order not to get killed, you needed to think of something, and fast. So, naturally, you said the first thing that came to mind. 


“I can please you with my body”


It seems like all the shock that you felt inside towards what you had just said was being expressed onto the angel’s face instead of yours. Single orb blown wide, and painted black lips parted, she stared at you like you just had explosive diarrhea all over her wooden floors. And you couldn't blame her either, you were just as equally shocked by your words. You literally just told her that you would please her with your body. No wonder why she looks so disgusted, you feel so disgusted with yourself!


“W-what I mean is that I can get you things! Errands! Or manual labor! Or anything but sexual…” You muttered the last sentence under your breath as you awkwardly scratched the back of your scalp with your free-hand. If she did hear the last part that you said, she (thankfully) decided to just ignore it, saving you a lot of hassle and embarrassment. Now though, it seems that she is considering what you had just offered. 

After a minute or so, she placed her cold sepia eyes back onto your form, making your shoulders jolt stiff ever so slightly for a split second, only to relax back down by your mental command. 


“I suppose I do need some supplies. After all, I am perfect, but can always be more perfect…” She muttered under her breath, allowing you to confirm that she did indeed hear what you said about the sexual part before. If you were thankful for anything towards her, it was the fact that she ignored your slip-up. Seriously, what a gal. 

After a few more minutes, the Angel swerved her head over to you. 


“Alright, i’ll allow you to leave unscathed ONLY if you answer some of my questions.”




“Yes~! Just some eensie-weensie questions. 3 is all I need~!” She cooed as she held out her index and thumb, placing the tips millimeters apart as if to visually express what she said. 


You couldn't see any problem in answering her questions. After all, how long has she been down here? Decades from what you know. 

Wanting to believe the best of the angel, you shook your head up and down in acceptance to her conditions. Seeing this, she clapped her hands together as a sham of joy blossomed onto her features. 


“Perfect! Well then, for our first question, this will be quite simple. What is your name?”


“Y/N L/N” You responded, making sure to keep your expression emotionless. 


“Alright then Y/N~! Why are you here?” She asked with a bat of her eyelids. You decided to answer truthfully. 


“To find out more about my Grunkle. He passed away, and I decided to come to his old workplace to see if I could uncover anything more about him. I… I miss him.” Alice gave a little hum of curiosity at this, most likely because she is incapable of caring for others. 


“Alright then. My final question will be towards your Grunkle. What is your Grunkle’s name Y/N?”


“His name was Henry Stein.”


The facade of the perfect angel had been erased off of her face. Her eyebrows were knitted and her mouth twisted into a frown as her teeth glistened in fury. But then, something seemed to change in her expression. It went from anger to… joy? Actual joy? Not fake joy, but real, honest to god joy? 

You were very confused now. How could somebody's expression change so drastically as hers? As if hearing your confusion, in that babyish voice of hers, Physical Alice asked you one more question. A question in which had managed to shake you down to your very core as her eyes lit up and a manic smile was placed upon her features.





“Is he truly dead?”

Chapter Text

-Physical Alice’s P.O.V.-


Y/N had just left down the elevator to begin her first task; gathering the Angel some (un)needed spare parts. Considering who her Grunkle ( honestly, what a distasteful way for saying Great-Uncle ) was, Alice Angel had decided that she should send her on the same missions that she did her family member. So, she gave Y/N the same wrench that she gave the mortals Great-Uncle all those years back, and had sent her off. 

The Angel plans on Y/N doing all the same errands that Henry did, the start of a family tradition of sorts if you will. At least if those missions are still capable of being embarked on that is. Last the Angel had checked, all the gears are in place, there’s plenty of filthy ink beings to suck dry, the valves have had their ink evaporated over the years, and Alice could probably gather up a few of that disgusting ink demon’s cut-outs for the girl to chop. The Projectionist is dead, but that doesn't mean that the Angel can’t craft something as equally as fun as the ex Norman Polk was. 

Boy was Alice gonna have fun with Y/N. And in the end, she’ll die either way!


Just as Alice Angel had begun to walk off to prepare her little game, on the other side of the screen, the angel watched as the wooden walls were suddenly covered in semi-clear ink splatters, making the raven stumble onto her rump in surprise. And, to her horror, a wish-to-be-forgotten 8 foot monster made of ink now stood in the very spot that Y/N had only 10 or so minutes prior. 

“What are you doing, Alice?” The creature hissed, making the Angel’s features scrunch up in disgust at the impurity which is placed before her. 


“I could ask you the same thing. Last I checked, I told you to never come near me, BENDY.” She hissed his name back as she stood herself up, leaning against the furthest wall as she talked with the demon through the glass. The ink being’s grin seemed to falter ever so slightly, only for it to be brought back up into the classic Bendy-grin shape. 


“I was… Curious about what you did to Y/N.” He spoke in his familiar crackly baritone voice.




“Yes… Also, I just wanted to come here to warn you that… if anything happens to that human-”


At the metaphorical speed of light, the demon teleported himself a millimeter away from the glass, making Alice jolt her body straight-up in surprise as he stared into her single orb with his slightly revealed left pie. 


Alice Angel has known the demon for…  quite some time, one could say, and in all the time that the Angel has known the Demon, not once has he ever told her not to kill anybody. Well, anybody beyond himself at least. So, for the demon, the ruler, the practical GOD and KING of this place, to come in and tell her specifically to NOT kill Y/N… Naturally, the Angel was quite confused. 


“Why?” Alice questioned. 


Bendy’s sole semi-visible eye looked off to his left, his ink growing slightly warm and runnier as he began to justify himself. “She's… Unique.” Bendy explained as he wandered around the room. 


With a smile upon her lips, Alice couldn’t help but scoff. “Unique? Many things are unique here, but not once have you ever come to me to tell me not to mess with them. What's different with Y-?”


“DO NOT SAY HER NAME.” The demon cut the angel off with a glare and an equally as terrifying growl, “Your sinful lips have no right to say her name.”

Alice’s eyes widened. “He dare call me sinful!?” She thought to herself with complete disgust. How is Alice, a literal Angel, sinful!? 

So what if she has killed dozens upon dozens of clones, it was all justified! After all, a being as perfect as Alice Angel needs to not only be perfect on the inside, but perfect on the outside as well. And this… this literal DEMON called her sinful, called her dirty?


Before Alice popped a vein, she reminded herself to take deep breaths. She’s perfect, and angels who are as perfect as she shouldn't get upset that easily. Especially around a being as disgusting as that pile of black regret just in front of her. 


So then, why would a being like BENDY not allow the angel to say the humans name? Y/N had seemed quite normal, despite her lack of fear… Maybe the demon became curious about that?


With a sly smile on her features, Alice met the ink covered eyes of Bendy’s. 

“She truly is interesting, isn't she~? So fearless…” Alice Angel set out the bait, and now all she has to do is wait for Bendy to take it. 

There’s a reason why Bendy doesn't run the entire studio, despite knowing of Alice’s general location. As a matter of fact, there are resistant forces all around! Alice’s just happens to have the biggest space, and for good reason. 

Bendy is made of ink, and Alice… Alice wants nothing to do with it. Even before their appearances became as fucked up as they are, and despite the cartoon and animations depicting them as romantic interests, Bendy the Dancin’ Demon and Alice Angel have ALWAYS hated each other. They want nothing to do with each other. Alice took her space and Bendy avoided it, not even so much a leaving a watchful cut-out for her. 

This, along with one other thing, happens to be the reason why the Angel is so confused as to why Bendy is here. 

The other thing is that besides the former workers at the studio that they have called to the studio and killed over time, Bendy is shown to be completely disinterested in all other humans. And even with the humans that the ink demon was interested in, Alice could safely say that Bendy would've never, and I mean NEVER gone down and threaten her like this. Not even with Henry, and Henry was the demon’s all time favorite hunt. 

So then, that leaves the Angel with the questions of why Bendy is here, and why he is threatening Alice for the sake of Y/N. 


Then it dawned on her. 


Before Bendy had a chance to answer Alice’s previous question, the Angel was already jumping onto her second one. 

“Are you interested in her?”

And, to Alice’s literal complete and utter shock, in-between the drips of heavy ink, a deep gray blush had formed across the demons cheeks.


“I didn't necessarily mean ‘interested in her’ like that…” Alice thought to herself as she stared at the flustered Bendy.


“I-I am NOT interested in her! S-she’s just weird is all, and I-I wanna figure it out!”


The Angel just couldn't hold it any longer. 


A heavenly cackle escaped the woman's lips as inky tears escaped from her cheeks. She heaved and she chortled, clenching her abdomen all the while as she was trying not to buckle over between her heaves of giggles. This was just too good! And he doesn't even realize it yet!


With a final huff, Alice wiped the black tears off from her cheeks, and when she looked back up, Bendy the Dancin’ Demon looked ready to strangle the Angel until her neck wobbled like a bobble-head. Seeing his current expression just made her begin to laugh all over again!

That is until a smash of a fist into her wooden wall cut her off, boards now lodged off and the metal underneath completely dented inward. 


“Can it wingless.” The demon growled, making Alice shut her pie-hole immediately. She definitely didn't want the protective glass being his next victim, even worse the Angel herself. Bendy has a… tendency to go bat shit crazy if angered. In order to prevent this, Alice Angel had to think of something, and quick. 


Then, the most devious idea that the Angel has had in a very long time had dawned on her. 

“Oh Bendy~?” The raven woman purred, making the being of black shoot his head up towards her sly face. 


“I have an idea~.” She sing-songed, making his anger fade just ever so slightly. 


“Y- I mean, the mortal is out getting me supplies at the moment. I have more tasks for her, and her tasks will be the exact same as the ones that I gave Henry.”




“Let me finish” Alice cut in with a growl, then continued. “While she is doing these tasks, I wish to make a deal with you. After her first task, you will accompany her on her second task, then third and fourth. This would require you to expose yourself to her. During this time, if she runs away from you or treats you poorly, then she will be mine. If you lose interest in her, then she will be mine. If you kill her, then her corpse shall be mine. After all, I could use a left eye…” 


“Ha! And what makes you think that i’d ever agree to something as stupid and un-beneficial as that?!”


Alice knew she was risking a lot with what she was about to say, but she had no choice. 


“I will give you permission to place cut-outs on my floor.”

Oh Alice knew perfectly well what she was dangling before the demon. A temptation that would prove to be hard to resist. They both know that it drives the demon crazy not to know what is going on 24/7 in the studio, and in all honesty, this is the demons only chance to get his way.

Bendy may care for Y/N, but he’s been selfish his entire life, and like hell would a simple crush stop that. 

“Then if I still want her, she is not yours to do as you like.” Bendy said for a confirmation. It was annoying to the Angel how thorough he could actually be, otherwise Alice could’ve probably gotten away with a few poorly intended things towards the mortal. With a sigh, Alice agreed, allowing for a satisfied Bendy to leave her hide-out once the deal was confirmed. 

However, just before he left, Alice called out to the demon one more time. 


“Oh Bendy~!” The half-way into his ink puddle demon shot his head back, looking at the Angel with a quizzical glare. 


“Y/N is the Grand-Niece of Henry Stein.” And with that, the Angel pranced away from the hell-spawn which exited her floor in complete shock. 

Chapter Text


Deep in studio, an inky being had paced. His hands and face were dripping metaphorical sweat as he waddled back and forth in his throne room, palms on his heads sides as he muttered quietly to himself under his breath. 

If one were to walk in on him right now, then they’d instantly assume that he was insane. But he wasn't, not YET. He couldn't be, he couldn’t allow himself to be. 


You see, naturally, this being is, well, a very dangerous one. This may be easy to forget, given his new infatuation, but you must remember that Bendy is a torturer, serial killer, stalker, vandaliser, theif, and has destroyed many many things in his path, and these are just the demon’s crimes! Let us not forget that his personality, which is egotistical, selfish, sadistic, sociopathic, and unempathetic. 

Sure, by appearance, the demon has indeed changed, in the sense that Bendy was able to find a small white space in his dark heart which he had placed Y/N in. He had only the purest of intentions and wishes towards the girl, and no matter how much the blackness of his heart begged and pleaded for him to change her, to harm her, to kill her… he didn't. He didn't allow himself the pleasure of even having the thought. But now, now after finding out that Y/N L/N is the Grand-niece of Henry Stein?


Well, maybe not to you, but to the ink demon, this changes his opinions on the girl indeed. At least, the blackness of his heart which is made of all his crimes and dark emotions thinks so. 

His darkness, his insaneness, oh how desperately the black claws of insanity were clawing into the barrier that he had made for Y/N, and oh how desperately Bendy was attempting to keep his white space for her pure and untainted. But it was hard, and at the moment, as he paces back and forth while all the while muttering to himself… there's one thing that you need to understand, one thing in which you need to know. 


Bendy is talking to himself. 


He is literally talking to himself, his insane self. The demon was sane for now, but he didn't know for how long. So, in order to attempt and keep the devil inside of him, the hardly angelic sanity that the demon had was attempting to convince his dark emotions to stay away from Y/N. The sort of sanity that Bendy feels creeping up on him is not the animalistic feelings he gets when he turns into his beast form, oh no. 

This is the sort of sanity, the sort of INsanity that Bendy had felt back when Henry was here, back when the demon roamed the halls, searching for the man that he wished to kill. He was so insane to the point that he didn't even realize what was going on around him. It was only when Bendy regained his sanity in which he begun to realize how familiar things seemed, how similar the patterns were, and how unoriginal all of his actions became. 


If Bendy allowed himself to become insane, then what are the chances that the black-hole of Henry repeated itself with Y/N? That thought, as insane as this might sound, that thought alone is the only thing that is keeping the demon from holding his darkness back. 




“She is NOT Henry.”


“But she is related to him. Raised by him. I heard the girl back when I talked with her. I heard it, I know I did.”


“She can't be Henry. What I heard doesn't mean that she is like him.”


“And what if she is? Imagine my loss, my losing of the vengeance that i’ve held onto for so long.”


“I had to give that up a long time ago in order to get out of the cycle. I know this.”


“But I can regain this. I can have this back. Imagine all the things I can do to her.”




“I could strangle her till she turned all shades of colors, leave beautiful marks of red across her body by my touch alone, make her bleed her beautiful red with my teeth, and imagine the ink…”




After I had my fun with her as a human, then I could begin a slow and painful process of making her into an ink being. I could chain her up in the throne room, keep her out of sight from all others eyes. I, and only I could look at her, stare at her, touch her, taste her. And then, just before she would become ageless, then i’d kill her, exacting the vengeance that has been deserved onto the Stein’s family for so long. Naturally, once she's dead, she’ll become a pile of ink. This ink, I would absorb, allow her to become a part of me for all eternity...”


“SHUT UP! I can't, that's all so sick! She’s not like me, she’s pure and untainted. I don't wish to hurt her for my pleasure, in fact, i'd be more than happy with just being by her side.”


“Would I now… Despite what I had just learned?”






“Because i've been watching her for long enough to know that she is NOT Henry.”


Well… I will see about that.”




“So stubborn... Fine. I shall leave for now. And when the minute my doubt tips… I’ll be back.”




It was at the end of this conversation in which Bendy had known that no matter what he was thinking, he is and always will be completely and utterly (in)sane. That’s just the sort of demon he is. 

Guess it's about time for the little devil darlin' to introduce himself to Y/N. Wouldn't you agree?

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


“Here’s your fucking gears.” You said with a monotone voice and scoff as you dropped the heavy metal objects onto the floor. 

Each gear that you had gathered easily weighed 20 pounds, and in the end you had to gather 3. So, for the past 40 fucking minutes, you’ve been traveling all around the damn studio to find parts, all the while carrying them without help, right along with your satchel that was now twice as heavy with that fucking iron wrench. Boris had tried to carry a gear for you, and his arm gave out! Then again, you aren't sure if cartoons have muscles…  

To say that you weren't happy would be an understatement. You were straight up pissed. As far as you're concerned, that “sweet little angel” can come over here and suck it. Not literally of course… 


“Great! Now then, my little delivery girl, could you be a dear and put those into the slot for me?” Alice Angel asked through a speaker. She must've been talking about the mailbox thing in front of you. With a deep sigh, one by one, you slid the damn things into the slot, grimacing all the while. 

You seriously weren't kidding when you said that you really let yourself go when it came to your body. You’d much rather draw and read, hence the reasons as to why you have an inking job and work at a bookstore. All things considered, from these past 9-10 days without contacting work for your absence, it's pretty safe to assume that you're currently jobless. Or perhaps have been reported missing by a co-worker. Maybe both.


Once you were done with your task, you listened in as the speaker started up once again, all the while you standing there awaiting your command. 


“Have you seen them? The swollen ones! They’re just stuffed full of extra thick ink. It makes me sick! And yet… It’s the perfect thing for keeping myself together.” 


“Keeping herself together?” You thought to yourself in confusion. When you ran what she said through your head once more, you could physically feel your face pale at the realization. 

Before you could confirm what you now believed to be some sort of ink being cannibalism, Alice continued to talk.


“If you’re going to catch them, you're going to have to learn to move quietly. Come back to my door. I have something that you’ll need.”


Walking over to the cylinder-like machine, it only took a few steps of your feet for the mechanism to spin around, revealing the biggest needle that you have ever seen in your life. With shaky hands, you picked the tool up, 100% unsure why you needed the needle. Maybe it wasn't even a needle. Could it actually be a...


“Enema syringe?” You questioned to yourself, making the Angel from above furiously cough. 


“What is wrong with you!?” She asked once done hacking, which in turn made you shrug your shoulders. You couldn't help the basic facts that this does looks like one of those tools. 

How do you know? Well fun fact, during one of the times you went to the hospital with your Grunkle for his yearly check-ups, you went to get yourself a coffee, and when you came back… you entered the wrong room. Apparently, the man in that said room had some pretty bad constipation. Well, from what you saw at least…


An invulnerable shiver crawled up your spine at the memory. However, the raven angel paid no mind to this as she decided to explain more clearly to you of your task. 


“I want you to take that NEEDLE, and go up to level eleven and hunt down three searchers that have extra thick ink. It may take a few kills, but you’ll get the hang of it.” 

The woman explained it all to you as if it were such a simple thing. To you however, it was anything but. Harming any living being with ill intent or in order to protect yourself makes you go into a panic attack. But to kill 3+ creatures that move and live just like the rest of us… That's impossible. 


Disgusted, you dropped the needle onto the floor, shattering it in the process. 


“No way.” You said, eyes trailing up to the cartoon depiction of the wanna-be. “No way can I kill.”


Static could be heard, but nothing was said for a very long time. It wasn't until a few minutes later when the silence was finally broken by none other than Physical Alice. 


“Do you actually consider the beings of this place, humanoid creatures that were created out of nothing but ink, as living, breathing animals?” It was funny how she asked that. Her voice had a hint of humor along with very heavy sarcasm, appearing as if she didn't believe you. You however decided to ignore this as you answered the angel honestly. 




A booming laughter echoed from the machines, making a soft screech escape the metal as she did so. When finished, the raven breathed into the microphone with a contended sigh as she spoke to you. 


“Well then Y/N, since you entertained me, you now have two choices. Either you get me 3 fillings of extra thick ink, or I will kill not only you, but Boris too. Be grateful, it's not often more than one option happens…” 


Your shock quickly faded into anger. How dare this woman threaten sweet and innocent Boris!? What had he ever done to her!? Not only is this bitch insane, but a psychopath as well! She’s fucking sick! 

Your fingers curled into fists as your body was completely stiff. With gritted teeth, you spoke. 


“Don't you dare touch Boris.”


“Well then Y/N, I guess then you’ll have to get ink on your hands.”


Another needle appeared from what you assumed to be some sort of slot machine. 


Grabbing it with your soon to be sinfully black hands, you began a slow walk to the elevator.

-Boris’s P.O.V.- 


He could tell something was wrong. As Y/N and Boris traveled down the elevator to level 11, the wolf kept his pie-cut eyes on your form the entire time. Your body was stiff as your dominant hand was curled around the pipe. You looked both terrified, yet angered, your face twisted into such a tight expression to the point that it made Boris nervous. Y/N was always such a happy girl, such a happy person. But right now… she was anything except happy. 


Boris wished he could talk right now so he could ask you what's wrong. So he could comfort you. The wolf would be lying if he said that he didn’t like you, after all, you're a great person that reminds him so much of Henry. You're an amazing comfort to him, and just like Henry, you look at Boris like he’s a human, not some mute failure. He doesn't like you upset, and the wolf certainly doesn't want you to leave him.  He doesn't want to be alone again.


Boris’s pie cut eyes visibly shrunk in ever so slightly. 


The wolf hasn't been scared of being lonely in a long time. He shut those feelings off, and just like Henry, you were able to make him miss company. You really were Henry’s Grand-niece, weren't you? 


Before Boris was able to think any more, the elevator gave off its classic ding, and you stepped out. After a few steps, you looked curiously at the wolf behind you with questioning eyes, as if you expected him to follow. 

Seeing this, Boris gave you a small shake of his head, making you nod in understanding. He wasn't going to follow or help in killing ink beings. That is your task. 


Before long, a familiar sound that the both of you had heard not that long ago was becoming louder and louder. A gurgling sort of sound that seemed to stem from the hallway directly in front of you. When the source of the noise came running in, it revealed what Boris knew to be as Striker. 


The wolf watched in slight anticipation as the mutant approached you. You didn't move forward, and you kept your entire form still, not even so much as raising your weapon. And when the small ink being finally came up to you, he heard you mutter under your breath one small phrase. 


“I can't”


Then, Boris watched in horror as Striker’s very own weapon slashed your belly again and again, and before long, blood was dripping onto the ground as you just stood there, taking it all. 

When you fell onto your knees is when Boris finally snapped out of his trance, running out from the elevator to go and grab you to drag you back to safety. He couldn't let Henry’s only living family member die, he couldn't let his companion die!


Boris was only one step out of the elevator until he had to stop dead in his tracks. Black inky like splatters suddenly covered the halls, and Boris couldn't find it in himself to move forward. He could only find himself moving back as instinct kicked in, slamming the door button closed like he did with Henry so many times back in the day. The wolf could only hope that you’d be okay as the elevator traveled up. 

-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


Just because he was confused doesn't mean that he could let Y/N die. Not until his decision was made at least. He made a deal with Alice after all. 


“After her first task, you will accompany her on her second task, then third and fourth. This would require you to expose yourself to her. During this time, if she runs away from you or treats  you poorly, then she will be mine. If you lose interest in her, then she will be mine. If you kill her, then her corpse shall be mine. After all, I could use a left eye…”


The demon could feel a growl bellow into his throat. Like hell he’ll let that bitch have her eye, she can see just fine with one!


Since Y/N’s first task is done, Bendy is currently heading over to her current location, also known as the second task. The demon had forgotten what the tasks were, as the time of Henry was truly such a long time ago, but luckily, he could still remember the general location.

He was still quite unsure about his feelings towards the human, especially since it has been revealed that Henry Stein, one of the 2 people in which Bendy has failed to kill, is not only related to her, but had raised her. Part of Bendy was quite happy towards the fact that the old fart was dead, after all, he had it coming for quite a long time. The other part of the demon however will always miss the thrill of the chase, even if it looped for as long as it had. 


Before long, Bendy had found himself in a familiar room. A river of ink to the left, a miracle station off in the corner, and a hallway that is directly in front of him. Turning down the hallway, Bendy immediately saw something that made his ink freeze. 


It was a Striker. It appeared to have some sort of weapon, and to the demons complete and utter horror, was slashing Y/N with it, her beautiful red oozing from the wounds. The blood that only Bendy was allowed to touch was pooling onto the ground. Bendy couldn't move, he was frozen in shock and confusion.. It was only when Y/N’s cut up form fell onto its knees is when the little devil darlin’ managed to snap out of it. 


His inky splatters soon covered the walls as his deformity of a body approached the pair. Y/N’s eyes were closed, as if she was prepared to die. “Like hell i’ll let her die” Bendy thought with a growl, and not a minute too soon, the demon had slashed the deformed cartoon in half with his hand. The second that Bendy’s hand was gone was the same second that the ugly creature had sunk back into the ground. Looking down at Y/N, Bendy had noted how her form was shaking. Was she having another attack?


A few seconds passed before Y/N fluttered her eyelashes open, her gorgeous and wide E/C eyes meeting the demons covered own. 


Bendy was expecting the girl to scream or run, but like always, the human seems to know just how to surprise him. 


“What… happened?”

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-

 It was strange to think that it was only minutes ago that you had almost died, and now, here you are, wiping alcohol all over your exposed skin as the literal demon of this place had his back bashfully turned away from your partially exposed form. You were attempting to concentrate on your current situation rather than the previous one that you were forced to be in. 

Sometimes, you truly did hate your weakness, your inability to harm. Sure, you considered yourself to be an empathetic person, but that’s not why you can't harm others. You can't harm others because of your father, and those thoughts of becoming like your father that you had as the mutant ran towards you completely took over. and, amidst being attacked, you yourself had begun to have your own attack. 


That's why you were attempting to focus on anything except what had just happened. It was making you shake and sweat. 

As you finished a final painful swipe across the luckily shallow wounds that seemed to just be bloody more than anything else, you found your gaze land onto the demons back. It seemed that your mind had finally decided to focus on something else as you were immediately brought back to right after he had seemingly rescued you. 



“What… happened?” You asked the demon, confusion evident in your eyes. You weren't stupid, it was quite obvious at this point that the ink being didn't plan on harming you at the moment. Otherwise, he would've already killed you, or at least would have made a move to do so. Instead, he’s just standing there in his 8 foot creepiness, perma-grin plastered across his eyeless face at he looked down at you. And he just kept staring. 


A clear of your throat seemed to snap him out of it, as his head tilted to the side in consideration. It seemed like he was having trouble finding the right words? After a minute or so, the demon responded to you and your question. 


“Striker.” He explained, making you even more confused. Was there a striker? Is striker a name? A plant or something?


Seeing your confusion, the demon took his human-like hand and pointed down at the pile of bubbling ink in front of you. It was then you had realized that the being that was attacking you was called or named striker. You nodded your head in understanding, your eyes glued to the boiling puddle only inches away. 


Looking up, you could feel your body jumped as the creature called Bendy’s face was mere inches from yours. 


“Er… Can I help you?” You finally managed to ask. For some reason, you felt woozy. Maybe it was from the blood dripping out of your slashed abdomen? It was hard to say… 

Bendy seemed to notice your sudden unease, and instead of backing off, he instead leaned his head into your cut up stomach, almost as if to examine it. Before you could say anything, a grate-y hum sounded from his throat as he stood his body back up straight. You watched somewhat fascinated as how his 8 teeth parted when he spoke to you. It somewhat reminded you of a nutcracker. God, you were excited for Christmas. 


“You're lucky… No ink got into your wound.” The demon explained, making your own sigh of relief escape your lips. 

Thank god, you really didn't want to become an ink monster, no offense to any of the beings trapped down here, but an immortal life spent in a black and sepia studio rotting away as you're slowly driven to madness just didn't sound very exciting to you. 

However, you were pretty sure that the weapon which was used to slash you was anything but clean. Looking down at the object that had harmed you, you saw the rusted metal which in turn made you cringe. 


Following your line of sight, Bendy’s inky covered eyes landed onto the flaked bronze colored instrument. It was then that Bendy remembered that rust can hurt humans. Something called tetanus, right? 


Well, Bendy certainly didn't want you to get sick before he made his decision on your fate. So, clearing his throat, you looked up at the demon in front of you. 

Then, to your complete horror, he started making clicking sounds as he motioned you to follow with his finger. Unable to finds words for the amount of shock that you had currently felt, you began to follow the demon until he had stopped walking. 

You appeared to be in-between a stair clearway. Going down and up were staircases that just looked like absolute shit with all the use that they must've been through throughout the years. 


“Come.” the demon commanded as he had begun to walk down the stairs. As you followed behind him, you found yourself becoming more faint as dizziness took over your body. Blood had continued to drip from your aching wound, and it certainly didn't help that you were walking on stairs, the literal energy waster of the centuries. 

Just when you felt like you were going to drop, to your utmost happiness, the demon had stopped walking and instead had stood in front of something. Curious, you walked up to his side to see what he was staring at. 

There, in between one of the staircases clearings was a plush white couch. A trash can was to the left of it while a circular side table stood to its right, a small desk lamp placed on top of it. 3 crooked paintings hanged on the walls, and on the very tempting couch was a film reel. 


“Sit.” Bendy commanded yet again. To ill to argue, you sat yourself down onto the somewhat comfortable cushions. 


“Stay.” The demon said, as if you were a dog or something! You swear, if his next command is for you to shake or roll over, then you are so out! 

Biting back a retort, you nodded your head up and down as the said demon walked further down the stairs. When he came back, he had a bottle of alcohol (not the medical kind), and a first aid kit. To say you were shocked was an understatement, as the demon carefully set the supplies down onto the side table. 

You were just so surprised at his consideration. Naturally, him saving you seemed impossible, and yet here is is. Not only did he save you, but now he just gave you supplies to take care of your wounds. 

Despite how pale and sickly you had felt, you couldn't help an appreciative smile to spread across your features as you looked up at the supposed evil god of the studio. 


“Thanks Bendy”


The demons entire body stiffened at your words as he just stared at you, his odd mouth slightly agape. You decided to ignore his odd staring as you instead focused onto the first aid kit. Luckily, there was unopened wipes, along with some gauze and cloth wrap inside of it. With a grateful sigh, you took out one of the dried wipes from its packaging, and opening up the bottle of alcohol, you drenched the liquid onto the ancient cloth. Rolling up your destroyed cami, stopping it just under your breasts, a sudden shuffling of feet drew your attention back to the now turned away demon. 


“Everything alright?” You asked him. 


“You… Ladies shouldn't unclothe in front of men…” He explained after a second long pause. You couldn't help the small giggle that escaped your lips.


“Why? It's for medical reasons, and besides, from the looks of your naked form, you don't have any private parts to get off with.”


“You should still have more decency.” He exclaimed at you, causing another round of soft laughter to escape.


“You're probably right. Sorry for not taking your comfort into consideration. You really are easily flustered… ” You muttered the last part underneath your breath. The demon seemed to decide to ignore this. 


Just before you placed the cloth onto your abdomen, you decided that you should probably warn the demon this time around. 


“If you hear me make any noises, don't be worried. The liquid will sting is all, but that means it's working. Alright?” You asked the demon, making him nod his head in response as he crossed his arms. 



This brought you back to now as you now attempted to wrap your destroyed and gauze covered tummy, wincing and hissing all the while. Finally finished wrapping, you decided to take off your blood soaked cami as you then buttoned up the over-sized plaid shirt, glad for your coverage. 


“You can look now.” You told him, making Bendy look back at your covered form. You felt a lot better now since blood won't be leaking out everywhere, and the wounds, to your surprise, were already starting to close up. It hurt like a bitch, but it was nothing that you couldn't handle. 

Slipping the spare gauze and wrap along with the small bottle of alcohol into your satchel, you stood up, now face to face with the demon. You didn't want to beat around the bush, not with this guy. So, you decided to just ask your question to him straight up.


“Are you going to kill me?” 


Bendy cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you, most likely contemplating his response. It seemed like forming normal and non-violent or aggressive conversations was difficult for him. 


“I'm… Not sure yet.”


“I see. Welp, when you do decide, do let me know. After all, i’d at least like a fighting chance.” You explained with a smile. This just seemed to bewilder the demon as his perma-smile disappeared. 


“Aren't you scared?” 


“Mhmn… A little I guess.” You said as you walked ahead of him, beginning to ascend back up the stairs as you continued to explain, “However, I am woozy from blood loss and did just have a near death experience, so I am seriously out of it. Still though, for some reason, I feel like you won't harm me. Not yet at least. You know, not that long ago, I had many questions towards you, and the intentions that you had towards me. It was only very recently when I had finally realized that you never asked to be born, none of us are, and none of us can truly choose the start of our path.”


“That doesn't change the fact that I have tried to kill you.” Bendy said with slight irritation. This however only made you scoff fondly.


“After our first meet, I don't think you ever actually consciously attempted to harm me after that. You had many many chances to kill me, even just now being a prime example of this. However, i'm still alive and here! Not only that, but this would be the second time you have saved me. So, instead of being scared, don't you think it's more appropriate for me to be grateful towards your help?”


It seemed that the demon didn't know what to say towards this, as the rest of your walk was silent, and when you finally made it back up to floor 11, you couldn't help the intense worry that took over you. 


“What's wrong?” The 8 foot demon asked, making you shoot your head over and up at him. 


“I just… I don't know what to do. I'm supposed to kill ink beings until I get at least 3 shots of extra thick ink or whatever, and… I can't kill.”


The demon hummed at this as you continued to contemplate a solution. It was only when a gloved hand was held out to you did you find your answer. 


“This is…” 


“This should satisfy that narcissist.” 


With shaking hands, you picked up the three extra thick ink blobs that were calmly sitting on the demons palm. 


“How did yo-”


“I'm made of ink and can manipulate the substance with ease. Making extra thick blobs is nothing.” You couldn’t help as your eyes became teary eyed with relief. After taking all three of the blobs and inserting them into the syringe, you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips. 


“What is it?” The demon asked as you wiped your eyes with the shirts sleeve. 


“It's just funny… I always thought that ever since my Grunkle died that if there was a heaven, then that he’d be my guardian angel. But instead… I-I just don't have enough words to express my gratitude Bendy. Still though, thank you.” And your simple thank you really could never truly express how deep your thankfulness went towards him. Most of your uncertainties had been shoved aside for the moment when it came towards Bendy, as you knew very well that if it weren't for him giving you these 3 precious gifts, then that you would've had no choice but to become like your father. Either that, or Boris and you would've been murdered. Both thoughts are as equally as horrifying. 


“... I'll see you at your next task.” 


When you shot your head up to question him, to your shock, Bendy was gone. A familiar elevator dinged from behind you, and before you knew it, Boris’s familiar arms had wrapped around you. 


“Boris!?” You exclaimed as the familiar cartoon caught you completely off guard. Unwrapping his arms and placing his gloved hands onto your shoulders, he began to examine you. Seeing that you were okay, Boris didn't dare question the fact that you were safe as he wrapped his right arm around you, dragging you back into the elevator. 


All the while this was happening, a certain angel was watching. 


She saw everything. 


Her painted black lips were pressed together in a firm line. Considering everything that she had seen, it was safe to say that things didn't seem to be going towards her favor.


However, instead of staying upset, the angels black lips parted, revealing an award winning grin.

“Oh Bendy~...” The Angel cooed under her breath, “If you truly do think that i'd let you and Y/N walk free, then you really are more stupid than I had thought.”

Chapter Text



The little girl sat crying in the back of her mothers car, rubbing her 5 year old eyes as her guardian continued to throw mean words at her. She just got back from her after-school daycare, and to the little girl’s confusion, her mother was mad. But why?


“You're hideous, Susie. I can't believe just how ugly you really are… Where did I go wrong?” Her mother questioned as her grip became tighter on the steering wheel. All the while, the little girl continued to sob. 

She didn't know what she did wrong, but what she did know was that after that day, her mothers insults had never stopped. 


A little girl sat alone on top of the slide. 


A boy looked up at the girl, smiling wide. 


Disinterested, the girl looked away. 


Now determined, the boy came back the next day. 


“Your daughter's adorable Aletha!”


“She’s a spitting image!”


“She’ll be a real catch when she’s older!”


The little girl stood there, smiling all the while right along with her mother. Her mother was considered to be the towns gem, a rare beauty indeed. With her pale skin and long silky black hair that stopped at her hips, to her curvy body and perfect facial features. Her eyes were a mesmerizing hazel that seemed to breathe a life of its own. Her mother was beautiful, and the little girl didn't stray far from her parent’s natural beauty.


The older women had continued to coo at the 7 year old girl for a bit longer, all the while, the pair continued to smile. But what the senior’s didn't notice was how neither of their smiles had seemed to reach their eyes. 


The next day, the boy came up to the girl,


Her beauty was truly so out of this world. 


Her hair done in a ponytail with curls,


Her eyes glanced over at the boy who looked like he had hurled. 


“Don't believe what those old women say about you. You're nothing like me. You're just an ugly little girl that nobody will ever love.”


The mother told her daughter once they got back home after the encounter with the elderly women, her eyes cold and lifeless as she stared down at her only child. 

After the old hags, her mother had decided to drag her little girl home, not wanting the hideous child to receive anymore attention that she already had been given. She needed her daughter to know how truly ugly, how truly horrifying she actually was. 


“Do you understand?” The woman asked, hand resting on the doorknob. Solemnly, the girl shook her head up and down. With that, her mother left. 


After some time, the pair had begun to converse. 


The boy talked to the girl, however, their one sided conversation only seemed to make his anxiety worse.


“Why so frightened, boy?” The girl asked him one day. 


The boy melted at her concern, feeling absolutely gay. 


Her mother slapped the child across the face, the sound seeming to echo for miles. 

“I told you that you don't have a father. Now stop bugging me!” The mother yelled at the child. 


“B-but the school said that every child has to have a daddy and a mommy to be made!”


The mother growled at this as she took another gulp of her beer, leaning back into the leather couch just a little further. With a sigh, she shot her hazel eyes back at the slowly shrinking girl. 

“You're too ugly to understand. As far as i'm concerned, your father was nothing but a forceful surrogate. Now scram, you hideous mistake.”


“I'm just worried you don't like me is all…” The boy muttered with a pout. 


The girl hummed at this, and after a minute or so, she looked over at the boy and asked, “Hey, you wanna check something out?”


The 9 year old found herself skipping her way home. Just to make her mother proud, the little girl had studied all night for her big math test! And a week later, lo and behold, she got 100%! Her mother would have to be impressed at this, after all, the little girl did it all for her!


“Mother~!” The little girl sing-songed as she opened the door to her home. However, her mother did not come out to check on her daughter, as she was on bed-rest. 

Unlocking and opening her mothers door, the girl came face to face with the sickly and frail woman. She laid still on her white bed, eyes trained on her open window which had the late day sun flooding in. Her right arm was hooked up to a needle, and the said needle was hooked up to an I.V.. Despite how dead her mother looked, the girl couldn't help but find her mother to be as beautiful as an angel. 


“Look Mother! I aced the test, just for you! Aren't you proud, didn't I just do a beautiful job?” She asked the woman gleefully. Her mother took the extended papers from her child. Looking over them, her mother could only scoff as she begun to tear her daughter's hard work into little shreds. 


“If you think impressing me will make you beautiful, then try again. I can't even bear to look at your hideous face and hand-writing. To think, you're even worse than your father...”


The daughter's expression fell at this. 


“Mother, it's time to take your medicine. Maybe after the dose settles, we can try and talk again!”


When she said this, the woman couldn't help but panic. “Stay away from me you hideous little goblin! I’m not even sick! Don't you dare put that needle into my I.V.! No no no n…”


Her mother passed out, and with that, the little girl walked out of the room, making sure to lock it on her way out. The child couldn't help but hope that perhaps her Mother would change how she thinks, and realize just how beautiful her child is. Slipping the door key into her pocket, the little girl continued her walk.


“What did you want to show me?” The little boy asked the girl once they entered a dark room. 


“Close your eyes, and you'll see.” The girl replied, making the boy swoon. 


The boy put his hands over his eyes, as he awaited to hear the beautiful girls command. 


He was both excited, yet nervous, and all the while curious as he couldn't help but wonder what the girl had planned. 


The little girl was 10 years old now, a beautiful white dress on her form. What made it more beautiful was the red splatters that had begun to cover it with every stab. 


“Tell me mother, am I beautiful now?” The little girl asked her dying mother as she laid bleeding out in bed. The mother could only scoff at the child, knowing that no matter what she did, she will always be ugly. Not hearing the response that she had wanted, the little girl had begun to punch and kick her mother, a maniacal face upon her features all the while. 




Coughing up blood, the woman looked at her disappointment, and with her dying voice, the mother spoke. 


“No matter how hard you try, and no matter what you do, you will never be beautiful, for something that requires true beauty is missing from you. You are a very very sick child, and with what little faith I have left, I pray that you will never be able to find it.”


And with that, her mother had breathed her last breath, and for the first time since she was a toddler, a tear had decided to slip from the girls eyes. 


A mother rushed into the daycare, the call that she had received sounding extremely urgent. 


“The police are on their way. For now, you should go to her.” Explained the kind gent. 


Rushing down the halls, the once kind mother had reached the door where her daughter was. 


And, to the mothers horror, a crying boy had sat on the ground, blood pooling from his face. 


“Mother! What are you doing here so early?” The little girl asked as she curled her paws. 


“W-what happened? Are you okay!?” The mother exclaimed, her heart going at such a fast pace. 


However, the little girl had only laughed as she had finally approached her mother, and when her daughter passed the light, something glistened. 


A letter opener soaked in red was held in her 5 year old daughter's hands, and her mother wondered if her daughter was truly ever christened. 


“S-susie… What did you do?”


“Well mommy, the boy was too beautiful, so I had to make him look different and new!”


At that moment, the boy in the corner had lifted his head. 


And, to the mothers horror, she had realized that the boy looked practically dead. 


Eyes gouged out and teeth missing from his gums,


Torn up ears and busted lips filled to the brim with bloody scum. 


His nose had been shaved off, and his eyelids removed, 


His brows were plucked, and his chin reminded the woman of an inside out spoon. 


What remained of his nose had been bent to impossible lengths, 


And the boys jaw was oh so horribly misplaced. 


“Y-you're not my daughter…” The woman mumbled out from underneath her breath. 


The girl cocked her head at her mother, curious about the concept that woman had just said. 


“You're hideous.” The mother hissed, making her child's smile disappear and her eyes fume. 


And from there, her daughter's narcissism only seemed to bloom. 


Wearing black, the little girl put the saddest expression that she could muster onto her features as her Mother’s body was lowered into the dirt. Everybody felt oh so bad for the little girl, and Susie couldn't help but soak up all the attention as if she were a sponge. Finally, the ten year old was getting the attention she deserved, the attention she NEEDED. With a childish innocence always upon her features, nobody ever expected the little 10 year old to be the one who killed the very woman who is being buried. 


You see, narcissism is a very interesting thing. Humans are born as creatures that consider their survival to be the top priority for their infant bodies. Sometimes, children are abused and thus have to think selfishly, while others… Well, they just never develop the needed skills, the basic balance of selfishness and selflessness that humanity requires. 


Considering this, Susie Campbell could’ve very easily been considered a monster long before she became one with the ink.

Chapter Text



-Susie’s P.O.V.-

Hopping out of the vehicle with a smile on my face, the cab sped away as I stood there, admiring the building that I will now be spending a large portion of my time at. This place would be the start of my acting career, how could I not be excited?!


“Joey Drew Studios” I tasted underneath my breath with a mutter. It just rolled so nicely off my tongue, as if a thousand flavors exploded across my taste-buds with the sweet sweet reality that from this day on, I will be the voice of Alice Angel, the same and beautiful angel from the comics that I read when I was young. 

Don't get me wrong, I like Alice Angel, but I don't necessarily love her. It’s not like being a voice actor was my dream or anything (as a matter of fact what I want is to be on the big screen), but with no way to get to Hollywood, a voice acting job in my very own home town is a nice start for a celebrity career. Then, after working at the studio for a few months, I should be able to get enough money to go to Hollywood. Considering my beauty, as well as my amazing singing and acting skills, I just know i’ll make it!


“Can you move?” 


I shot my head back, and my eyes landed on a very small figure of a boy that looked to be roughly 12 years old, maybe even younger. He was about 5’4, and looked as thin as a leaf. He had golden blonde curly locks and blue eyes that seemed unimaginably cold. Freckles covered his sun-dusted pale cheeks, and his lips were coated in a frown as his eyes narrowed into me, as if examining me. In his arms were floods of musical papers and projector films that looked close to dropping from his grasp. 

Ignoring the boys rudeness, I gave him an award winning smile as I bent over, placing my hands on my knees. 


“Here, let me help you with that.” I offered as I held my hands out. However, this only seemed to make the child pissed off as he slapped my hands away from his form. 


“I don't need your help, you stupid woman.” He hissed, “Now move aside, you're literally blocking my path.”


Keeping my expression as a happy one, (although inside I was anything but,) I moved my body out of the way and stepped onto the damp and wet grass which in turn made my stiletto heels sink into the mud. With some grunting from the male child, he had managed to carry all his supplies into the studio. 

It was all sorta pathetic really, he should’ve just accepted the help, especially when somebody as beautiful as me is being as kind as I was to a troll like him. Well whatever, at least I don't need to worry about roughing my perfect and smooth hands up from manual labor. My shoes however…

A dark look overtook my features as I stepped out of the mud, my black heels now coated in mush. Oh how badly I wanted to stab that child right now… 

“No, I shouldn't be thinking like that, not today.” Quickly shoving the homicidal thoughts deep back into the dark corners of my brain, I shook my head back and forth as I walked myself into my future. 


“You must be Susie Campbell.” The 30 some year old man said with a smile as he shook my hand. “I'm Joey Drew, owner and founder of the studio as well as the series, Bendy The Dancin’ Demon . It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”


My first impression of Joey was that he was a kind and friendly man, extremely charming if I do say so myself. Although he was indeed smiling, I could see that something was off with him. His silver eyes showed no warmth, welcoming, nor kindness compared to what his voice expressed. He seemed a little fake, but who am I to judge? After all, underneath all my fake, masks, and self restraints, i'm not exactly that sane myself. I thought I was bad, but after getting to know Joey Drew… boy was I wrong…


“The pleasure is all mine, Joey.” I said with a seductively sweet smile. He was somewhat handsome. Given, I don't plan on actually ever doing anything with him (unless if it benefits me in some way), but that doesn't mean that I shouldn't start planting my seeds as soon as possible. 


Releasing each other from our grasps, Joey turned his body around and motioned me to follow. “Come. We should introduce you to the rest of your new family.” I thought that his statement about new family was a little odd, but I shook it off as I followed after him. 


In the end, I met many interesting people in which inhabited the studio. People such as the brooklyn accented Wally Franks who seems to say “I'm outta here!” every other sentence. Or what about the elder projectionist Norman Polk, who seemed grouchy more than anything else. I also cannot forget about the darling newlyweds, Thomas and Allison Connor, who are much more fit to be best friends rather than lovers with how much they goof and teasingly hit one another. Middle aged Bertrum Piedmont seemed quite eccentric to say the least, as the man was just way too passionate with his work and self-greatness. Then there was Henry Stein, who was a very quiet man. He seemed kind, but also very stressed with all of his work and home life. Joey and him seemed very close, which is how I later found out that the pair created the place together.

In all honesty, there were plenty of others workers, hundreds even (the studio was much larger than it appeared on the outside), but those were the only ones that Joey ever bothered to introduce me to. Not like I cared, I was completely disinterested in everybody but myself. 


After meeting the people which were apparently worthwhile that was currently in the upstairs of the studio, Joey had decided to bring me downstairs to the music department, where I would be working for a majority of my time. Down there is where I met the extremely awkward young adult Jack Fain, who for some reason would rather work in a hole in the sewer than with the music director, Sammy Lawrence. I couldn't help nor stop the curiosity which bloomed inside of me when I heard this. So, when I finally got to meet the man that I would be working on my music with, I was expecting somebody tough looking or middle aged. Perhaps a mean and nasty man with a scowl always etched on his face. The last thing I expected however was to see that the music director, which has already won dozens of rewards for his wonderful musical work in the Bendy the Dancin’ Demon cartoon series, was in reality the same child that I had moved over for this morning. 


When the child’s eyes landed on me in his office, he gave me a cold glare and scowl. However, when he saw Joey Drew, his entire body seemed to tense as the once confident minor seemed to become very nervous. 




“Y-yes Mr. Drew?” He stumbled out. 


“I'd like you to meet Susie Campbell, our voice-actress for Alice Angel. From now on, you two will be working together.”


“The child’s eyes widened, those said wide orbs shooting over to me as he trailed his peepers up and down my form, only to shoot back to Joey Drew a second later. 


“B-But Mr. Dre-”


“I need to go back upstairs now.” Joey cut into the child, “Make sure to show Susie her office, alright?” And with that, Joey was off, leaving the two of us alone. And the minute the door shut, Sammy’s eyes were on me yet again. 


“I'm only gonna warn you once Campbell. Leave and never come back, if you know what's good for you.” He said. I was definitely taken aback by the sudden words and his serious tone. His face which had only expressed anger and annoyance towards me thus far was now a blank slate. All except for his eyes that is, which seemed to show a pain that somebody like me would never be able to understand. It was because of my lack of understanding towards emotions that I was able to easily shove off the kids concern. 


“Not to worry child!” I chirped, “I’ll be just fine here. It takes quite a bit to rile me up…” I said with a small laugh. Sammy seemed to realize something as his eyes widened, only for them to change back into their indifferent slits. 


“I see… You're just like him, aren't you?” He muttered under his breath. Before I was able to say anything, he continued. 


“Also, i’m not a child. For your information, I just turned 20.” This threw out all my confusion as my mind was now focused on the fact that this tiny looking child- man was only 2 years younger than me. 


“You're kidding me, right?” I asked, my mask slipping as a disgusted scowl fitted it's way onto my face. If he was truly 20, then his appearance is simply disgusting. I mean, adults do things that children should never do. Then again, what are the chances that he’s telling the truth? Tons of kids lie about their age to their friends and strangers, he could just be doing the same! 

But for some reason, something seemed to tell me, scream at me that he was not lying. There was just something about him that seemed very mature, something that seemed to yell that he has lived a life full of terrible things. 


“Oh…” I responded to him, unable to find any other words. This made the child- er… man smile as he sat up off of his chair, dropping his pen as he walked over to me. 


“Don't worry about acting like a good person around me. Just like him, you're much too fake. Now then, let me show you to your office.” He said as he made his way to the door, and once his hand rested onto the knob, before he turned it, he shot his head back at me. 


“And Campbell?” He asked, making me hum in acknowledgement. 


“Welcome to hell”


And with that, he opened the door. 


I found work with Sammy to be extremely interesting. He had quite a handsome and sarcastic personality, not to mention a very dry and mature humor. In all truth however, we could never agree on stuff for the life of us, so we were always bickering. I had first tried to manipulate him with my smiles and body like I had with all the other co-workers in the studio, but for some reason, the man-child never really fell for any of it. Well, except for that one time we both got wasted, but neither of us ever mention that forbidden subject. 


One morning, I came in to the studio slightly late. By the time I arrived in the music departments recording room, I was expecting to be yelled at by Sammy, but to my shock, he wasn't there. 

A small sting went through me, but it was so small to the point that I had decided to just ignore it as I walked up to the stage to warm my vocals. Before I had a chance to however, the door slammed open, and there stood a very pale Sammy. 


Once his eyes locked onto mine, all tension seemed to leave his shoulders as he suddenly collapsed to the ground. Then, to my slight disgust and utter confusion, Sammy began hacking up blood. Not wanting him to die, I calmly got off the stage and walked over to him. 


“What's wrong?” I asked as I bent down to his eye level. However, he was unable to respond as he continued to hack blood up until it became a large puddle. 


Something was truly off with his liquid, for as he hacked till he was heaving breaths, I noticed in the pile of blood that there was strings of black mixed into the red liquid. The black strands were long and thread like, and upon closer examination, I saw that all the black strands seemed as if they were wrapped around tiny pieces of flesh. Curious, I brought my hand down to touch it, but before my finger could even graze the substance, Sammy slapped my hand out of the way, making my arm fling to the side. 


“YOU IDIOT! DO YOU WANT TO BECOME LIKE ME!?” He screamed as he lifted his head up, locking his eyes onto my own. And for the second time that day, I felt a small sting in my chest. I never took anybody seriously, after all, I am the only one that matters. But seeing Sammy like he is now, all weak and pale… Never in my life would I have ever expected to see Sammy with this sort of face. 

Eyebrows etched up in concern, and tears lining his lower lashes as his eyes shined with pain that seemed unable to ever be expressed with words. His mouth was tugged into a frown, and his upper teeth were biting down onto his bottom lip as he stared at me, pleaded with me to not touch him. 




“Don't you “Sammy” me.” He hissed as he looked back down at the wooden flooring. “I… I absolutely hate the fact that I care about you Susie. As much as we bicker, I actually enjoy your company, and despite the fact that I know just how truly twisted and narcissistic you are… I still consider you to be my friend. So please, for all the love and hate that I have for you, just leave this place before you will be unable to.”


It was odd to hear him say my first name. It was the first time that he had ever done that. However, despite his confession, I felt nothing. Despite his warning, I felt nothing. Despite his use of my name, I felt nothing. Just like he said, I am a narcissist. I always have been ever since I was born. At 5 years old I disfigured a boy, and at 10 I killed my mother. No normal child does things like that. It’s not like I have gotten better with time either. 

Something snapped inside of me. 

Maybe it was because of my sadistic and narcissistic nature that I simply now cannot feel anything at the moment, all except for slight desire at seeing the aforementioned Sammy Lawrence coughing up blood. It has been quite a long time since I have had fun with a man… 

Quickly shaking the thoughts out of my head, I looked down at him, a smile on my features. 


“Sammy, I can't leave the studio~!” I sing songed as I patted his head. His eyes widened ever so slightly as they followed my raising form. 


“After all, if I leave the studio, then how else will Alice Angel ever be famous~!?”


The blondes eyes widened at the ravenette standing before him. 

It seems like Sammy arrived too late. 


Later that day, I was called to Joeys office. Upon entry, I was met with a familiar mans face. 


“Ah~! Why if it isn't our sweet little Angel Susie! Come, please sit!” Joey said with a smile. Making sure to keep a positive expression on my face, I sat down across from him. 


“What do you need Mr. Drew?” I asked, which in turn made the man smile wider as he rested his head on his folded knuckles. 


“Not much. I just have a few questions for you is all. Susie Campbell, how much do you like this studio?” 


I made a large smile appear on my face as I responded. “Why I love it here! Everybody is so friendly and kind, and it’s such a delight to work with a talent like Sammy!”


“I see…” Joey hummed. When he spoke next though, to any passerby, it would seem like something was seriously off. However, to beings like Joey and Susie, this atmosphere would be anything but. To them, it was natural, as finally after all this time, the pair have decided to show the truth. 


“Why not drop the act?” 


Cold and lifeless silver eyes locked onto the ravenette’s deep purple own. A blank and emotionless expression took over Joey’s face as he stared at me, as if attempting to look through me. I couldn't help the smile that crawled on to my face. 


“I see i'm not the only fucked up one, eh Joey?” 


“Well, I may lack certain things, but unlike you, i'm hardly narcissistic.”


“And unlike you, I at least have some decency to try to fit in to society. Although that is uncommon with narcissists, we do what we need to do, don't we?” I said with a scoff, which in turn made him laugh. 


“I don't necessarily try to fit in as much as I try to manipulate. Don't you do the same? After all, your history certainly seems to point towards manipulation.”


My smile disappeared as I openly glared at Joey. He couldn't know, right?


“Now Susie, I think I have a deal that would work well for the both of us. I’ll keep my mouth shut about the truth of not only your mother and that boy, but as well as all the men you have conned and even killed. All you need to do is drink this, and I promise you Susie, your beauty, in time, will be eternal.”


With those finals words, a large cup of thick and black gelatin-like liquid now sat on the table in front of me.

Chapter Text


-Your P.O.V.-

 “H-hey Boris?” You managed to stumble out, making the gentle wolf who had his arms wrapped around you moments prior to shoot his head up. 

Although your expression was blank, your mind was anything but. At the moment, you were contemplating whether or not you should tell Boris about the experience that you just had with the devil himself. What makes the decision so difficult is that it couldn't be more obvious to you that Bendy has traumatized the kind cartoon in some way (which honestly pisses you off to extents that you can't even form into words).

On one hand, if YOU were Boris, then you'd wanna know what happened, no matter how awful or traumatizing the results of those words may be towards your mental health. But on the other hand, you know for a fact that you are not the wolf, and you don't know Boris well enough yet to know his limits or what he would wish for. 


At that moment, the classical ding of the elevator echoed as the metal gates had managed to scrape themselves open, exposing the floor of level 9. Without looking around, you already knew what was here, what was in this very studio.


Ink coated sepia, and deformed monstrosities that are unable to ever find peace roam the dead halls. Red mixed into obsidian so deeply to the point that the black can only be recognized as blood due to it's irony smell, and pain so strong that it cries and wails throughout the building as it creaks and groans in union. This place was hell on earth. 

This studio contains humans whose lives were ruined by frickin cartoons, and cartoons whose lives were ruined by selfish humans. What makes matters worse is that they all have to live in some fucked up harmony that only exists due to the common fear towards the ink demon. Very few rebel against him from what you have seen, and Boris… Boris happens to be one of these rebels. Bendy may scare him, Bendy may make him weak, yet Boris still stands against him. 


Yeah… The wolf should know what happened between you and Bendy, and you should tell him whether he likes it or not. If you don't tell him now, you just know that this withheld information will come back to bite the both of you later, and you can tell that this sort of bite would leave a very ugly scar.


“Boris” At the mention of his name, Boris’s ears perked up as he looked over at you, waiting for you to speak. 


“Bendy saved my life.”


To your surprise, underneath his long flews, there was actually a mouth. You found this out as his jaw is currently dropped to the ground in shock towards your confession. It seemed like he has yet to react since he is still only in the shock stage. You have no idea how he’ll take it, just hopefully not too poorly. However, knowing the wolfs traumas, you'd be shocked if he could actually handle it well. 


And to your shock, you found yourself shocked. Once he closed his jaw, he just casually crossed his arms as he nodded his head. Given, he was shaking, but he certainly wasn't freaking out like you thought he would. All things considering, he was taking it quite well. Maybe you should continue? 


You decided to continue your explanation, as now you find yourself laying everything that has happened between you and Bendy onto Boris. 


“I-I just don't understand him!” You yelled, fingers buried into your scalp. “The first time I meet the guy, he shoves me down a fucking hole, and the second time I meet him, we literally just fucking talk through a door! The third time he tried to fucking kill me, and the fourth he literally saves me from starvation! And now this, back to god damn saving my life!?”


Looking back up at Boris, you see that his expression is one that looks to be very shocked. Tears are stinging in the corner of your eyes due to all the stress and worry that you have been keeping to yourself away from the everyone around you, it was if you had just unlocked your Pandora's box. It felt so nice to finally share it with someone, finally share your confusion and unease. You needed this. 


“I-I just don't get it Boris! What does he want with me, why does he hurt me then help me!? Why is he kind to me, yet so cruel to others!? I know that he has hurt you and Sammy very very badly, and I also know for a fact that you two aren't the only beings that he had hurt in this studio, so why… why does a complete stranger like me get all this special treatment!? I know he’s been hurt by Joey, everyone has! But he’s also hurt you so badly Boris, I can tell, and now the guy’s telling me that he’ll see me later during my next task. I just don't know how to feel. Should I be happy for the assistance, or mad for what he has done? Should I trust him to help out, or should I keep him at a distance due to his twisted deeds? Boris, please… Tell me what I should do.”


The wolfs shocked expression morphed into a blank one, his eyes oh so tender as he approached you. When he was only a half a foot from your body, Boris simply pointed to his chest and shook his head back and forth, only to then point at your chest and shake his head up and down. It took you a second to understand what he was saying, but when you finally did, you could feel the warm salty liquid escape from your lower lashes. 


“Don't follow my heart, follow yours.”


Giving Boris a quick hug, you then wiped your eyes as you walked over to deliver the goods to Alice. 



-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


She was so kind. 


Although Bendy still felt very unsure towards the human, the demon couldn't deny the fact of how sweet that the human was. She was so quick to treat Bendy nicely, going so far as to explain her worries and the reasons as to why she trusted him. 



“After our first meet, I don't think you ever actually consciously attempted to harm me after that. You had many many chances to kill me, even just now being a prime example of this. However, i'm still alive and here! Not only that, but this would be the second time you have saved me. So, instead of being scared, don't you think it's more appropriate for me to be grateful towards your help?”



The little Devil Darlin’s face was oh so gray right now due to the memory, as his ink now heated up very very quickly. To hide his embarrassment, Bendy couldn't help but curl himself up into his throne chair, burying his cartoon like head into his knees for extra protection. 

The demon couldn't stop himself from remembering her beautiful and shining H/C hair, her glossy and clear E/C orbs, and that smile… Oh dear lord, that smile that was only directed towards him and only him, and her laugh… her laugh which reminded the demon of the ring of Christmas bells, and the sweetness of a buttercup. God, she was just so gorgeous, and so kind!

However, Bendy couldn't go trusting her just yet. She seemed kind, sure, but she’s still related to Henry. Who knows what that bastard has told her in the past about the studio. He had to play this carefully, had to play this professionally. 

The demon had to shove aside his curiosities towards her for now, as the most important thing to currently do is to make his choice; Will Bendy allow Y/N to become his, able to do whatever he wants to the human to his liking's, or should he let Y/N becomes Alice’s? 


Guess this is something that only time will tell.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


 “I'll make this simple. Look for the valve panels. Turn the little wheels. Then bring me their power cores. Please don't make me regret sparing you. I can always change my mind.”


And by those words alone, you now had a fucking plunger in your dominant hand. Given, you haven't taken a decent shit in what feels like months, but seriously? A plunger? What in the hell are you supposed to do with a plunger in this place? This is even worse than your last weapon!


With a grumble of irritation under your breath, you had begun your walk out of the Angel’s playpen and into the elevator where Boris waited for you. Stepping in, the wolf gave you a friendly nod as you gave him one in return. He still looked quite concerned for you, which you had ended up dutifully ignoring as you pressed the button for level P. You considered telling Boris that you were alright, and that he doesn't need to worry for you, but all that consideration flew out the window when a familiar speaker had started its play. 



“Once upon a time, there was an angel. And she was beautiful.” 



“God dammit, I thought she was done.” You thought to yourself as you resisted a face palm. Looking over at Boris to see his reaction, you found him to have a very strange expression on his features, almost as if something were amiss. Maybe her speech was in the wrong place wrong time? Well, you knew for a fact that you certainly didn't need one of Alice’s rambles right now, or ever for that matter. 



“And loved by all. She was perfect.”



However, since she sadly isn't telepathic, the angel continued. And, to your horror, her little ramble became something that made your blood run cold. 



“No matter what Joey says.”



Shooting your wide peepers over to Boris, to your shock, he was already staring at you with empty eyes. Before you were even able to ask what the Angel had meant, Boris had simply shook his head back and forth. Your retort was cut off by the elevators classical ding. You were at level P, and, if Bendy was telling you the truth, he will meet you down here. 

With a shaky inhale, you stepped out of the elevator, the metal doors shutting behind you as you listened to the machine make its exit, knowing full well that the wolf had just left you. 

You couldn't blame Boris for not wanting to stick around. If you knew that the being you were most scared of was going to be showing up, then you'd get out of there right away yourself, just like Boris did. 


Looking to the right, you saw another one of those freaky Bendy statues. Looking to the left, you were met with a winding corridor. Seeing no other way to go, you began your walk down the hall, wincing all the while. 

You put on a brave face in front of Boris and the others, but in truth, your gut really hurt. It would only take a small twist of your spine for the wound to act up with its bleeding once again, so you really had to play it careful from here on out. You doubt that you could even run. 


Not much later, you had entered a very interesting labyrinth. It was a hallway, but it certainly didn't seem like one. Half of the walls were glass, the entire appearance almost reminding you of an interrogation room, or one of those freaky doctor observatory windows. It seemed to be more like the latter, for when you found yourself in front of the nearest window, you could physically feel your jaw drop. 


It was Charley. 


And for some reason, the familiar little cartoon was laying passed out on what appeared to be some sort of operation table. It probably wasn't used for operations, but the unconscious and scarred mutant sprawled across it certainly made the whole room give off that creepy medical vibe. 

Before you were even able to begin to search for an entrance into the room, a familiar gurgling noise had begun to echo the halls, forcing you to freeze in your tracks. Shooting your head to the left, and looking through the panes, in the farthest room from your body, you watched in terror as a little mutant Striker had begun to wobble over to you. 

With a string of curses leaving your mouth, you quickly shot your body over to the right, frantic for means of escape. You didn't wanna kill the little guy, even if he was the one that cut you all up. 

You attempted to run, only for a seething pain to shoot through your abdomen which made you stop dead in your tracks. When you had finally recovered, you could tell that the little monstrosity was only a few steps away from you now by how loud his grunts echoed. Shooting your head up as you were 100% ready to speed walk out while crying Grunkle, you stopped dead in your tracks when your eyes locked onto a miracle station. A brief relief flooded over you, but you quickly snapped out of it as you fast walked over to the weird stall, ripping the door open as you jumped inside, and successfully shutting it before Striker could get to you. 


Now, you didn't know if the little creature was deaf or what, but it looked like he honest to god couldn't find you as his little head shot left to right in search. You calmly waited for the thing to leave, but he just wasn't leaving. He’s literally standing in the center of the fucking hall, spinning his head around this way and that while looking for you. Fuck, if he wasn't gonna leave, then how in the hell are you gonna make your escape? 


As if on cue, familiar ink splatters magically appeared onto the walls and floors, and before you knew it, an 8 foot tall ink demon was standing in front of the creature. The minute Bendy’s eyes landed onto the little thing, you found yourself unable look away as you watched in horror as Striker’s mutated body burst like a pipe, black ink falling to the ground in some fucked up form of disintegration. When you finally managed to peel your own eyes away from the gruesome obsidian stain, you found that Bendy’s head was turned towards you, invisible orbs meeting your own through the little miracle stations peeping slot. 


“Come out… If you'd like.” Bendy added the last part on a minute later, almost as if he forgot that you can make your own choices. You couldn't help the scoff of amusement that left your lips as you stepped out, and walked over to the ink demon that had to crane his neck all the way down in order to meet your eyes. God, did he know how to make you feel short. 


Meeting his face, you had decided that the best thing you can do with Bendy is to simply follow your heart. It’s okay to be cautious around him, and it’s also okay to also be honest and kind with him. You knew that he was capable of some very bad things, but you also knew that he had been damaged very badly by Joey. You had decided it best to simply be friendly and truthful to Bendy while still keeping him at arm’s length. Well, for now at least. 


“Thanks for the help!” you chirped then continued,  “Although, isn't their a less… homicidal approach in getting someone to back off?” You asked with a smile, making Bendy cock his head to the side in confusion. It seemed like he really didn't get it. 


“It’s just that killing shouldn't be the go to answer, and er… n-nevermind. Again, thanks for the help Bendy.” You decided to cut yourself off on your explanation due to the fact that you knew that Bendy would be incapable of understanding your words. 

Killing is all that anyone does here, it's the way of survival. You (and most others) may think it's wrong, but it's a different world in the studio. It may be bad to you, but that doesn't mean that it will be bad to Bendy. 

It’s almost like taking away a babies diaper without potty training. Even if you could explain what needs to be done to the toddler, they’ll still go to the bathroom the same way that they always have by shitting their pants, because to them, shitting their pants is normal. That's the reason why people potty train, so that the child will break out of the habit. The same applies to Bendy, in the sense that just because you could tell him it's wrong doesn't actually mean that he’ll know it's wrong, and therefore will not change. Put simply, your opinion is pointless. 

For now though, maybe instead of teaching Bendy not to kill, wouldn't t it be better to just treat him with kindness? If Bendy really has never left the studio, then what are the chances that he has ever experienced kindness? If he has experienced kindness, then it certainly hasn't been given to him in a VERY long time. Maybe that would be a good starting point. 


Before you were able to put your kindness plan into action, Bendy had hunched his body over, and now was… examining you?


Your hair, your stomach, your back, and your arms. Bendy circled around you like a vulture as he looked you over from head to toe. Then, as quickly as it started, the demon had stopped with a huff. 

Before you were able to voice your confusion towards his actions, he had already begun to limp away from you. Snapping out of it a moment later, you walked up to the demons side. 


“What was that?”


“Was what?”


“The examination thing you just did.”




“Checking for what?”


“More injuries.”




“... See if Striker hurt you.”


The last part made you pause, only for a tender smile to bloom across your features a moment later. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy, after all, he did seem concerned about you. Huh, who knew?


It wasn't long after that the two of you had stopped walking. You and Bendy had now stood in front of what you assumed to be the valve panels that Alice had told you about. Looking them over, you found that each glass tube had a little dot of black ink on the inside of it. Were you supposed to turn the wheels until all the ink was filled to the dots?

Deciding to test that method, you set the plunger down as you then reached up to the center wheel and held it in a firm grasp with both of your hands. And when you went to turn it… the fucker was rusted shut!

You continued to yank and pull the wheel in both directions, all the while Bendy was just watching you with a blank face upon his cartoon-like features. Finally, after 5 or so minutes of attempting to turn the wheel, you gave up. Looking up at Bendy with an annoyed expression, you gestured towards the handle with your dominant hand as you spoke to him. 


“Think you can get this?” 


Bendy’s invisible gaze broke off of you as he looked over to the pipe. Then, with his humanoid-like hand, the demon grasped the wheel with three fingers and turned it, allowing the ink to flood in its desired direction. Once done, he just looked down at you once more, as if waiting for his next command. You could feel your cheeks heat up ever so slightly in embarrassment. 


“T-thanks. Can you turn that one next?”



After a good 3 minutes or so of you telling Bendy which valve to turn, and the said demon following your orders obediently, you had finally managed to obtain one of the valve cores. A big dumb smile was upon your features as you shot your head up to the ink demon. 


“We did it! High five!” You announced as you held your hand up, awaiting for the demon to slap your hand in response. This gesture however just made him cock his head to the side in confusion, which in turn made you lower your own arm in slight concern. 


“Do you… not know what a high-five is?” You asked with a tilt of your head. 


“Heard of it… Never saw it.” Bendy explained to you, making you frown ever so slightly. Now that… that’s just sad that he’s never been given a high-five. 

Forcing your frown to disperse, and placing a small tender grin on your face in exchange, you held your hand out once again for the demon. 


“Alright Bendy. I want you to hover your hand over mine, alright?” You asked, and Bendy did what you asked, his gloved hand now hovering an inch or so from touching your own. Then, when you knew that he would keep his hand still, you winded your arm back and slapped your palm lightly against his own, making the demons body jolt in surprise. 


“That's a high-five! People usually give each other high-fives in either greeting or as a way to say good job after completing a task. Pretty cool, right?” You watched as Bendy flexed his hand for a second or two, only to then look up at you, his head cocked yet again. 


“I… Barely felt anything.”


“Well I didn't want to hurt you.” You explained with a scratch of your neck. Then, to your shock, an odd sort of rumble had escaped from the demons throat. 


“You... Didn't want to hurt me?” Bendy had asked, which in turn made you shake your head up and down. 


“Yeah, is that wrong?” Your question made the demon give off another one of those weird rumbles, which you had finally realized was his attempt at a laugh. 


“No… You're just… different.”

Chapter Text


-Bendy’s P.O.V.-

 Once again, the human knew just how to surprise him. 

First you thank him for killing Striker, then you attempt to tell him not to kill Striker, and at the very end, you back out of the conversation all together. 

And those valve panels… Watching you as you attempted to loosen the wheels was probably one of the cutest things that the demon has seen in quite a long time. Like a little bunny attempting to get its foot out of a trap, it only helped the demon to gain even more proof towards just how fragile and delicate you actually are. 

And finally, that high-five. You were scared of hurting him? Bendy the Ink Demon? The ruler of the studio, and the most feared being alive in these black covered halls? 

A small little human like you didn't want to hurt him or startle him, and out of all the things that you could’ve done… 


You treated Bendy with kindness. Real, honest to god kindness. 


You thanked him and encouraged him. You smiled at him, and even went so far as to make physical contact with him. And through all of this, not once did you appear frightened. In fact, it was the complete opposite. You almost seemed comfortable, like you knew that no harm was going to come towards you. To some extent, you trusted the ink demon. 

Bendy continued to trail behind you as you went off in search for another valve. The entire walk, the ink demon had found himself flexing his gloved appendage in wonder and amazement towards your actions, each pull of his pseudo-flesh giving a small tug which in turn reminded him of your touch. Your WILLING touch. This wasn’t like the times where Bendy licked you or carried you. YOU consciously touched HIM, an 8 foot tall deformity, and all of it done with a smile upon your features. 

For some reason, Bendy found himself excited, eager, and starved. He wanted you to touch him again, and the demon wanted to touch you. You were so warm and sweet an-


Your small fingers snapped in front of the demon’s face in an attempt to drag him out of his trance. The call of his name made him look down at you and your adorably petite form. How badly Bendy wanted those fingers to touch him, that tiny body to be snug between his hold. But alas, the demon knew two things:

One, he needed to be gentle with you. You are a human, a pure and un-sinful human which has never been tainted by the ink. He can't treat you roughly, nor can he allow his desires to take over his rationality. 

Two, the demon can’t trust you just yet. Truth be told, as infatuated as he was, a silent war was currently going on in Bendy’s mind. One side of his brain was screaming at him never to trust you, you could never be as kind as you acted, and that you are better off dead than alive. The other part of his mind told him that you were trustworthy, you were truly the kindest being that he has ever met, and that you are at your best when you're alive. 

You really did drag such complicated emotions out of him, none of which Bendy would ever be able to identify with words beyond interest and curiosity. Just why did you have to be related to Henry?

Snapping out of it, in response to the call of his name, Bendy simply cocked his head to the side as he waited for you to speak. A small huff escaped your lips as you pointed towards one of the two valves in this room. 


“Think you could help me with that?” You asked him, a smile upon your features. A nod of his head was all that Bendy gave in response as he limped over to the valve set, turning the knobs per your directions. Once done, you gave him yet another award-winning smile. 


“Thanks Bendy!” You chirped with excitement, making the demon once again nod his head ever so slightly in response. “I have no idea how you're able to turn those damn things, there just so fucking rusty…” You mumbled your last sentence under your breath, making Bendy’s ink covered eyes widen in shock. 


“You… Shouldn't talk like that.” The demon exclaimed, making your now confused peepers trail back up to him. 


“Like what?” You asked with a tilt of your head and a cross of your arms. 


“Ladies... Shouldn't swear.” 


At his explanation, your eyes widened and one of your eyebrows arched up. After a minute or so of staring at him, a melodic noise had begun to escape your lips, a noise that Bendy was quick to associate with as your laugh, and by god was it perfect. 


“B-Bendy.” You gasped between breaths, “How long have you been down here?” 


He thought about what you said, and he found that he could only draw a blank for an answer. He’s never actually checked how long he has been down here. Put simply, the demon doesn't have a sense of time. 

So, Bendy simply shrugged his shoulders, the universal sign of I don't know being expressed across his body, which in turn made you huff in amusement. 


“Well, in today's society, swearing is actually quite normal, no matter the gender!” You exclaimed joyously, “In fact, women are treated much more equally, and females basically have all of the same rights that men have.”


Bendy cocked his head to the side, taking in your words for a minute or so until he finally collected his thoughts and spoke. “ So is that why you dress so poorly? And talk so inappropriately? And act so strangely?”


You dead-pan him, your eyelids heavy and emotionless as you stared him down. “Uh… no. I'm like that because that's who I am?” 


“Who you… are?”


“Of course! Some people act a certain way because, well, acting a certain way will allow them to be more accepted into society. I’m not saying everybody should act totally like themselves, in fact, I think its impossible to fully be one-hundred percent yourself in the real world. However, everybody deserves to be comfortable with who they are, and if being who I am means that it's poor, or inappropriate, or even strange, then that’s okay! I'd much rather satisfy myself than satisfy others, because the truth is, people should love you for who you are, not what you show.”


“Love you for who you are, and not what you show?” The demon couldn't help but mutter the entirely foreign concept underneath his breath. Bendy himself has always acted however he wants to, but that's because he’s not part of the “real world” as you so kindly dubbed it. The flashes that Bendy has seen of the real world however, those just always seemed painful. 


Back when the studio was alive and buzzing, dozens upon dozens of people had worked at Joey Drew Studios. Bendy, being the little being of ink he was, would travel from portal to portal, and look out from all of his cut-outs to examine the humans. Sure, he may have thought that humans were generally pathetic and weak, but even the demon has to acknowledge that they can be quite tough at times. Bendy can even remember some instances. 


Like the middle aged woman who worked down at the animation department. She was the mother of the studio, smiling and comforting others with her positive personality. Not once did you ever see her frown, and instead, she was the one to always make people smile. However, every morning when she would come in to the building, the first thing that she’d do was go into her office and lock the door, then calmly, she’d take off her shirt and bra. Underneath, dozens upon dozens of bruises laid peppered across her skin from her husband beating her due to the fact that she works. They were in truth living by paycheck to paycheck, even with the womans help. Despite the both of them knowing that in order to make a living that they’d both have to work, the husband still was oh so mad at himself for being useless, and thus took it out on the person closest to him. 


Or what about the older man, the one that worked down at the music department? He was a shut in, never speaking to anybody at the studio. Workers dismissed him as the grumpy old fart of the music department, never taking the time to get to know his co-workers since he was always holed up in his office, working away at whatever he always did in his free-time. In truth, the man was not an antisocial sort of person, in fact it was the complete opposite. He was simply depressed. His wife had been diagnosed with cancer, and per her last wish, the man put all his time and energy into writing one last final song for his lover, a serenade even better than the one he wrote when he proposed to her. And when he wasn't working on the song? Then the old man would just cry, wishing for somebody to come in and tell him that it would all be okay. In his eyes, everybody in the studio avoided him and hated him, when in truth, everyone was just ignorant. 


Then there was that young girl. Vienna was it? Well anyhow, Vienna was a hard working woman of the script department, always typing away at her type-writer. She was anti-social, but that’s just how focused she was. She wasn't a hard worker because of the fact that she was passionate or wanted money, oh no. She just wanted drugs. Each and every paycheck went towards her multiple addictions, not one cent ever being left behind for her living, thus making her homeless. And on the coldest and darkest nights, Vienna would tell others she was staying late for work at the studio, when in reality she was sleeping in underneath her dusk, huddled into herself on the cold wooden floors. 


There were plenty of other instances that Bendy could think of, but those were just the most notable ones, and these examples are all just clips of different people's lives that were showed to express just how fucked up the real world actually is. 

The demon has seen multiple times how people cover up all of their pain to cry in private, suffer in private, and hurt in private. It was because, just like Y/N had said, it’s easier to fit into society while being something you're not. In truth, more often than not, showing your true self is unpleasant to others, which is why so many hide underneath these personified masks called normality. 


The demon may not be able to identify the purposes for these masks, but what Bendy did know was that it takes a true brave soul to express how one feels on the inside onto the outside. A brave soul like Y/N, who speaks freely and dresses freely, all the while still being a kind and considerate person. 

Once again, the human always seems to know just how to surprise him.

Chapter Text

-Your P.O.V.-


You were in so much pain right now. 


When you and Bendy opened the door to get to the last valve puzzle, you nearly shat your pajama pants when you saw that the mutant Charlie had disappeared from his table. Seeing your expression (which must've been quite a surprised one), Bendy was quick to tell you that everything would be okay, and it was at that moment in time that in which you had suddenly felt really guilty. You were making that helpful demon do all the work while you just sat back. In fact, there were plenty of times in which he had helped you, and all you did in return was treat him like a butt. 


So, like the empathetic genius you are, you had decided that you would do the last valve puzzle yourself. 


It wasn't the wheels that were making you hurt per say, but it was rather the fact that you had to stretch your cut-up abdomen out in order to properly turn them, and boy did that hurt. You could feel the slight dampness of blood begin to seep through, despite you ignoring it with the best of your ability. 

Sure, your Dad may have been an abusive asshole that gave you plenty of pain tolerance, and a normal person would probably be sitting in a hospital bed bitching for more pain meds right about now, but you didn't have the luxuries of normal pain tolerance or medication to ease the pain that you're having. No, instead you got some 500 year old dusty bandages and a bottle of fucking vodka to clean the wound with. You could technically drink it (which would make the pain more tolerable), but you're only fucking 19, and besides, you never plan on drinking. Thanks for being an alcoholic, Dad. 


With a small grunt (and Bendy’s eyes on you the entire time like a hawk), you had finally managed to turn the last valve wheel into place, a knowingly dumb smile upon your features. Even if you were in pain, you still had to be quite proud of yourself. 


Shooting your head over at the demon, just like you had oh so professionally predicted, Bendy was staring right at you, like really staring. It almost made you wonder if he could see your soul… 


“Um… Is there something on my face?” You had finally decided to voice your confusion. Given, you do know that there's nothing on your face, but asking if there’s something on you is a way better conversation starter than being all like, “Hey, what the fuck you looking at!?” which is something that you admittedly sorta wanna say right now. What? Being blatantly stared at is kinda irritating. Then again, there is no sure way to know if he’s looking at you, after all, he has no eyes. Well, at least no visible ones. 


For some odd reason, underneath his ink covered skin, a light gray… blush? had begun to form. Was he… Embarrassed? Why would he be embarrassed though? Is it because you caught him in the act? You thought his staring was sorta obvious, but maybe he didn't realize that he was looking at you? That could be a possibility, after all, you doubt that the literal ink demon god of this place has had many chances to socialize. 


“I… Always watch…”   Bendy, to your shock, had stumbled out. You had sorta figured that the little devil darlin’ would've been too nervous to continue this conversation, but apparently not. In fact, what he had just said sorta made the entire conversation much worse. 


“Um… W-what does that mean exactly?” You asked as you snatched the last core, knowing full well that the fact that you were creeped out was not being hidden at all whatsoever. However, before Bendy had a chance to respond, a sudden unexpected voice had cut in to your conversation. 


“You're quite the efficient little errand girl, aren't you? Come now, you’ve completed your task, return the valves to me.”


Once Alice was done, your attention from the noise was quickly snapped away as you heard a completely new one; a throaty growl that seemed to be coming from the depths of Bendy’s throat. He did not look happy. 

With a tentative hand, you went to reach up to pat Bendy’s shoulder in reassurance, until your abdominal pain made you double over, a small hiss escaping your lips in response. This seemed to make Bendy snap out of his anger as his head was quickly shot back to your doubled over form, and in less than a blink of an eye, the demon was kneeling right in front of you, his once thought to be perma-grin pulled down into a small frown. 


“Are you okay?” He asked, to your ultimate surprise. He seemed… worried. 


Forcing a smile on your face, you were quick to nod your head up and down in response. “Yeah, i'm fine. Thank you for asking Bendy.” You responded to him which in turn only seemed to make his frown deepen. 


“Y/N… You aren't fine. What’s wrong?” He could tell you were lying? Bendy, the demon that has like never socialized with anyone, could see through your fib?


“Boy, you really do watch everything, huh?” You muttered under your breath. This made him cock his head to the side in confusion, which in turn made you give off a small throaty laugh. 

Honestly, you were just sick of it, sick of all of this shit! Oh how badly you wanted to be at home right about now, chilling on your couch with your computer, doing the line art for the comics you work on and a bowl of your favorite cereal by your side. How badly you wanted to get out of this studio and go back to the bookstore you work part time at, then after the long days of work you could visit your Grunkle's grave, sitting down in front of the perfectly carved stone and bantering away about all your life's problems just like you always do. Just like you always did. 

But instead, you're here, at this literal godforsaken studio where you’ve been knocked out, starved, beaten, cut, and dehydrated. You have literally been sleeping on old wooden floors and taking showers with fucking hoses for the past week and a half, and boy were you sick of it! 


Fuck, when out, you almost had half a mind to never come back!




You… As much as you have hated what has happened at this studio, you still couldn't bring yourself to hate it. Because in this studio, your Grunkle had once lived in, worked in, breathed in. In this studio, there's sweet ol Boris, and… 


“What ever happened to Sammy?” You asked, a dark look upon your features as you shot your head up at Bendy. 

That's right, how fucking stupid are you? How could you have forgotten about Sammy!? When you ran out of the music department, your selfish ass literally left Sammy behind to deal with Bendy! And now here you are, acting all fucking chummy with the ink demon, when Sammy could’ve literally been killed by his hands!


“He’s fine” Bendy told you, which made you sigh out a breath of relief as all your anger simmered away. “... I did nothing…  permanent” Welp, there goes your relief. You really didn't want to hear the details of what Bendy had done to Sammy, so you had selfishly decided that the explanation in which the demon had provided for you was good enough. The most important thing was that Sammy was okay, er, possibly will be okay. 


“Why do you care?” 


“About Sammy?” You questioned, which in turn made the demon nod his head once up and down. “He hurt you, didn't he?”


“He has… issues.” You explained, feeling as if it's not your place to tell Bendy what happened to him as a child. It’s Sammy’s story after all, not yours. Besides, not telling Bendy shouldn't cause any sort of harm that you can think of. 


The demon seemed to sense that you didn't want to talk about it, which you were grateful for. 


“Can you stand up?” Bendy asked in a sudden change of topic, which honestly, he had a good point. Could you stand up?


As you attempted to get back on your feet, you were quick to find that no, you couldn't stand up. The minute you placed your foot on the ground, you found your body toppled back over onto the ink stained wooden surface. You felt like an upside down turtle. You were unable to get up on your own. 


“Er… Could I have some help?” You asked as you stretched out your arm in reach. All you needed was for Bendy to pull you back up, and you'd be good to walk back yourself. By your question, you watched as the demon had visibly jolted. Perhaps he doesn't wanna touch you? 


“Sorry, I can proba-!”


“No!” The demon cut in with a yell, making your eyes bulge out of your head. “I just… Wasn't expecting that…” The demon explained, which in turn made you nod your head in understanding. It was obvious that he hasn't had much interactions with other living beings, so it made sense that the question would startle him. 


A smooth gloved hand was soon grasping your own very gently, and with a small tug and a little effort, you were back on your feet, a grateful smile upon your features. 


“Thank you Bendy” You said with a kind expression. 






“Um… You can let go now?” He acted as if your hand was suddenly on fire as he all but ripped his appendage away from your own. Before you were able to see his expression, he quickly turned his body around and started walking away, leaving you startled for a minute or two until you couldn't help but give a small giggle as you followed after the demon, finally completed with your third task.

Chapter Text


-Your P.O.V.-


After delivering the valves to Alice Angel, and some intense motherly fretting from Boris, you finally found yourself on level K. Your task? Destroying 10 of Bendy’s cut-outs. When you told the demon what you needed to do, he looked less than pleased. 

“Isn't there any other way?”  He asked, and to your horror, he was talking in complete sentences. Boy, he must've been pissed. 


“Not that I know of, no.” You explained, which made the demon give off a small audible growl.  “Well then, find another way. That narcissist isn't cutting down any more of MY cut-outs.”

He is really screwing you over right now, doesn't he know that you don’t have many options in this place? If you complete Alice Angel’s tasks, then you get to leave the studio! And you REALLY wanna get the hell out of here. You're malnourished, wounded, and just overall tired. You're in constant pain, and your body is sore beyond measure. You're pretty sure you lost some weight, and you definitely wouldn’t be shocked if your cheeks have sunken in to your face. Point being, you need to get out of here and drive your ill ass straight to the nearest hospital to receive medical treatment, because at this rate, as much as you hate to admit it, you're gonna die. 


“Bendy, I need to leave the studio.” You said with clear exasperation. 


And you thought his other growls were violent. By your words, a loud and intense growl rumbled from what seemed to be the very core of his being, exiting in such a manner that it was more akin to a roar at this point. The room shook ever so slightly at the intensity, and his ink… his ink was dripping onto the ground in thick drops, forming the once semi-clear surface with dark and black puddles.




Your eyes were wide and your jaw was slack in shock. You weren't sure what to do or say to this, after all, the demon was currently accusing you of attempting to abandon all of them! 

After a minute or so, you finally seemed to find your words. 


“I… wasn't planning on abandoning anybody.” You said it so calmly and concisely that you could visibly see the tension leave from his body. His ink became less runny, and the black puddles on the ground had ceased their growth, to your ultimate relief. 


“But if you leave the studio, then you're leaving us, leaving me…” 


Your eyes were wide once again. Leaving him? No, it couldn't be. Was he… attached to you? But you guys barely know each other! Hell, you just started talking to him today! How could he get attached so quickly!? But wait… If he watches the studio 24/7 as he claimed earlier today, then does that mean that he’s been watching you? You aren't gonna lie, the thought of that is super creepy, but at the same time, you knew that him observing you made sense. You were an intruder that was trespassing into his home, and what he considers to be HIS studio. Normally humans would call 911 or grab their shotguns, but Bendy doesn’t have any of those given resources for protection. Which means that observing is his way of monitoring, his way of making sure that you wouldn’t cause any harm to his most important place and possession. 

When you think about it, it’s very likely that he could’ve become attached to you. Sorta like how television viewers become empathetic with their favorite characters, and are able to empathize with their emotions and cry if the characters die. In a way, his cut-out’s are like televisions, except they’d be much more intimate, especially if the signs act as his sight, because then he’d be seeing your journey thus far through his very ”own eyes”. 

But when he says that  I can't abandon them , is he really talking about you? Seriously, how many times have you seen sentences concerning abandonment written in ink across the walls of this studio? How many beings in this place rot away, yet are left unable to die? Was he truly talking about you, or was he talking about someone else? 

In this instance, does it really matter?


“I’m not gonna leave you Bendy” You said with a smile as you patted his forearm in a way of comfort. His ink was kinda wet. Gross. However, despite the disgust you felt, you still kept your hand on his forearm. “I need to go home, but that doesn’t mean that I won't be coming back. I want to help you guys, and I can’t help you guys by staying here. There are certain resources that I can get from the outside world that could be beneficial to the studio, and besides, I need to take care of myself. It’s certainly safe to say that my health is far from good at the moment.”


“I… See…”  The demon responded. Seemed like he was back to speaking broken sentences. Sorta funny how poor speech relieves you. 

“Yeah. Which is why I need to break these cut-outs. I already broke 1 cut-out back when I took a nap, sorry about that by the way, so now I only need to break 9 more. I get that your cut-out’s being broken upsets you, and I really do wish that there was another way to do this so that the both of us could be happy, but I just don’t have the time to find another way. Unless if you have another idea, I see this as our only option. Do you have another idea?” You asked as you had finally removed your sticky hand from his forearm, voice neutral and slightly curious. Bending down, you (in)discretely wiped your appendage on your previously F/C penguin printed pajama pants. God, you're gonna miss these pants. After, you pulled yourself back up straight. 


Bendy ignored your actions of wiping his ink, and instead he stood still for a minute or two in thought. Finally, after a bit of time, the demon solemnly shook his head back and forth. Guess he couldn’t come up with anything. 


“Sorry Bendy. Would you like to wait somewhere else when I break the signs?” You asked in hopes of that maybe helping the devil darlin’ to better stay calm. You don't want him watching you break the signs if it'd make him upset. 

You expected him to agree with your worries, but instead, he did the opposite. 


“No… I’ll stay.”  He said as his stiff body slacked. 


“But why?” You asked, confused as to why he’d decide to stay if it would only upset him. By your question, he gave you a throaty hum, then after searching his head for the answer (at least you assume he was as he was tilting his head back and forth in thought), he seemed to have finally found it. 


“If I wander… then I may not know… so i’d punish.”  Holy cow. His sentence was way too broken and vague, even for you. You felt somewhat ashamed that you couldn't understand him, but you felt clarification necessary, regardless of how badly you wanted to pretend you understood him.


“May not know what?”


“Who’s destroying.”  For some reason, that caused shivers to crawl up and down your spine. When he didn't know who was destroying his signs, then what would he do then? That thought was utterly terrifying. 

Shaking off your unease, you and the demon headed out to go and chop some cut-out’s. 


-Bendy’s P.O.V.-


This was WAY harder than he had initially thought. 


Watching someone chop wood seemed like such an easy task to the demon. But the minute he saw Y/N slam that axe over one of his cut-outs was the very same minute that the demon’s ink had begun to pool. 

All anger aside however, seeing the ever-docile and confusing human wield an axe like a middle aged lumberjack was definitely… something else. 

However, Y/N being a lumberjack was not the issue here. No, what was the issue was the fact that in this very moment, Y/N was cutting down his signs. In the past, Bendy would’ve never allowed this to happen, as he would've raced over the minute that he saw someone so much as tap a cut-out. So, to ALLOW anyone to chop his wooden cartoon-portraits was indeed a dangerous game. Every millimeter of Bendy’s instincts were screaming at him to make her stop, make her cease her assault, but the demon just couldn't. He knew how badly she needed to do this. 

According to the human, she needed to leave. Not wanted, needed. And also according to her, she plans on returning to the studio. 

“Do you really think she’d actually return to the studio, actually return to me?”

Bendy clenched his teeth and curled his fists. He was doing it again, allowing his  in-saneness to come out. 


“The minute she’s out of here is the minute she’ll forget me. If she’s nothing like Henry, then I won't let her go. I’ll keep her. Under my control, she won’t be allowed to leave. Think of what I could do with her for all eternity, and then, she won't just be ‘the human’ anymore. Oh no, she’ll be MINE…”

A small growl had decided to escape from Bendy’s lips, making the ever so sweaty human shoot her glossy E/C eyes up in surprise. 


“You okay Bendy? You seem tense.” Y/N asked as she stood upright, wiping her brow with her non-dominant hand as she now looked at him with slightly arched brows. The demon could barely manage a nod of his head in response. 

As if sensing this, the humans eyes softened as she lowered her axe onto the ground. 


“Let’s take a break”

Chapter Text

-Bendy’s P.O.V.-

 “What are you doing?” The demon asked as he watched you plop in a large number of dry beans into your water bottle. Screwing the cap back on, you then went to grab your other water bottle, unscrewing this ones cap as well and drinking a fourth of the liquid. You were both taking a break at the water fountain in the Heavenly Toys room, the two of you sitting a foot or so apart from one another, to Bendy’s greatest yet unwanted pleasure. 


“Re-hydrating and preparing for later. Thanks for the water and food by the way.” You explained with a grateful smile, the entire conversation making the demons ink burn right along with his now gray face. To think she noticed… Back then, the demon was still so interested in her. Given, the demon is still interested in her, but he just can’t seem to admit it as easily. She has gone back to being “the human”, being indifferent to him in speech. Underneath all his hesitation, and cleared between his muddle of emotions and hesitation however, Bendy wanted her. His insaneness now wanted her. At least it seems like it does. But neither of Bendy’s sane nor insane side can choose; Should they accept her?



The splintering of wood echoed the hall. Bendy couldn't help the growl that escaped his breath as he felt yet another one of his “eyes” flick out. 

He knew who it was. It was that damn Henry, walking around, acting like he owned the place as he axed Bendy’s signs up. As irritated as he may be, in truth, the demon has become more… tolerant of the old mans habits over the years. In other timelines, Bendy would’ve chased him down with so much as seeing a single glance of his saggy form. However, the more resets which are given, the more Bendy is able to control himself. Thus, somehow, Bendy is able to resist his urge to skin that old animator/cartoonist alive. However, that does not stop his irritation, oh no. 

The demon has learned just how fun it is to play Henry, it’s such a good de-stressor. To hear his heartbeat through the miracle station as he watched the demon walk by, completely believing that just because he’s in a fucking stall means that his little devil darlin’ can’t see him. 


What? You thought that Bendy didn’t know Henry would hide in the miracle stations? Only an idiot would fail to notice the large eye slot with E/C peepers looking through, or the closed toed shoes and socked ankles giving a peep-show from underneath. 

The demon didn’t notice the old mans placement right away, but when he was finally able to start thinking clearer, the realization of where Henry disappears to when Bendy is after him was almost instant. 


Another clatter of the knowingly destroyed wood was all it took for the demon to finally snap. Low growl escaping his throat, Bendy drew forth an ink portal to go and hunt that old man down.



In all honesty, Bendy would've accepted her a long time ago. In fact, the demon did accept her not that long ago. Finding out that Y/N was related to Henry however really made that acceptance go down the drain. After all, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Bendy hates Henry Stein, which just happens to be her Grunkle. 


“You know, my Grunkle is actually the one that taught me how to cook beans.” Bendy shot his head over at the girl, metaphorical eyes blown wide. Taking in her features, Bendy felt both hot yet cold by her expression. Her eyes were narrowed with this unexplainable emotion and her mouth had a genuine and tender smile. Seeing her happiness made the demon smile, but knowing that her happiness came from talking about Henry? Now that just pissed him off.


“Henry Stein”


Y/N’s eyes widened into dinner-plates as her head shot up to meet Bendy’s gaze, jaw slightly agape at the mention of her Grunkle's name. The demon didn't even realize that he said the mans name until Y/N spoke. 


“You… Knew my Grunkle?”


Knew him? Oh, Bendy did more than just know him. With the combination of Joey, Sammy, and Henry, the demon ended up here, in this fucked up form called a cartoon! Who ever heard of a cartoon like him!? Hell, if it weren't for Henry coming in that day of the ritual and ruining everything, then Bendy wouldn't even be here looking like some… inky puddle!


“Knew? I hate that man.”


In shock, the human stood up. “What!? Why!?”


Holding both of his arms out, Bendy referenced to the entire studio. “He’s one of the three reasons why this place is as fucked as it is, sweet-cheeks.” He hissed the last word out with venom, making Y/N’s eyes narrow. 

“Don’t call me sweet-cheeks. And what do you mean one of the three reasons?”


“I mean, if it weren't for his dumb ass interrupting the ritual, then this studio? It wouldn't be like it is now. He ruined us!” Her eyes narrowed at this remark, arms crossing over her chest defensively as she spoke in Henry’s defense. 

“He would never purposefully harm anyone, so never accuse him of something like that ever again!”


Black went red, and before Bendy knew what he was doing, his gloved hand had wrapped around Y/N’s throat.

Chapter Text


-Your P.O.V.-


His fingers… 


Who knew they could be so cold. 


Ink was dripping from his face onto your cheek, his chest heaving up and down in uneven labors as his hand was further wrapped around your thin and delicate neck. It was terrifying to see just how large his hand was in comparison to your body, and how it only took one for all of his fingers to perfectly fit around you like a collar. 

A collar of death. 

His smile was stretched to unimaginable lengths, each and every one of his teeth seeming to glisten in the light. Then they slowly parted, semi-clear saliva stretching from his parting bones like strings until they broke off with an inaudible snap. And that tongue…. That long, black, and clearly slimy tongue that had a spiked tip. Easily a foot or more long, it lolled out of his mouth like a yo-yo as it stopped just above your chest. And, as you waited for your death to come, you soon found that it didn't. 


His hand was only wrapped around your neck. There was pressure, and it did somewhat hurt, but it was far from suffocating. To your utter confusion, he wasn't choking you. As you were attempting to figure the puzzle out, something utterly extraordinary happened. 


His ink cleared from his eyes. 


You could feel your jaw drop as his ink had parted from his face like hair, exposing soft and expression-filled black pie-cut peepers that stared intensely into your own. Unlike his perma-grin, these eyes… they showed so much emotion. Arched in pain and watered in grief, confused from anger and seeming to stare at the present and past simultaneously. 


You hurt him. But more than that, intentional or not, Henry, your precious Grunkle, had hurt Bendy even more, and Bendy hated him for it. 


Hurt can be such an irrational thing, you should know that, and sometimes people can hate other people for no justified cause or reason. Hate and hurt are such unique things in the sense that sometimes you don't even need to do anything in order to cause harm to someone. You knew your Grunkle, and you knew that he would never intentionally harm someone unless if he was required to do so. And you can definitely admit that the reason why you immediately became so defensive over your Grunkle is because he’s your family. But who knows what Henry was like when he was younger, who knows what he has done in the past? And this studio? Well, you’ve come to learn that this studio tends to have plenty of fucked up beings with fucked up pasts and issues that expand as big as the fucking circumference of the earth. Why should Bendy be exempt from any of this? Why would your Grunkle?

You made a mistake for yelling at Bendy. As irrational as they may be, any and all emotions that one feels are completely justified.


Feeling lost and not being able to have any of the right words to say or comfort him, you simply had decided to stay laying on the ground, your oh so familiar E/C eyes staring into Bendy’s hurt own. 


You couldn't help but think about how Bendy must be in so much pain. All those years alone and lost, un-comforted and nobody accepting him in the studio… 





“Damn Reaper!” 


The man screamed as his foot slammed into your bloody side, taking the literal air out of you as you were left coughing and spluttering for breath. Your eyes were dim and dry, lashes covered in crust from all the days you had tears escaping your lids. You felt so alone, so dead, so lost. 


“Nobody will ever love you Y/N.”





Before you knew it, liquid of your own had begun to run down your cheeks as you stared at Bendy. How long had he been suffering, how long had he been carrying this pain? Your Grunkle was your saving grace, but what about him? Who will help Bendy, the literal ink demon of this studio? 


“I will”


Reaching out your arms, you soon found your sleeves to be soaked black as you completely ignored the demons hold. The more Bendy’s hands loosened from your neck, the closer you got to Bendy until his head was being pressed into your neck. His arms laid limp at his sides as you hugged him, stroking his surprisingly flexible horn-like appendages in comforting motions. And to your relief, your methods seemed to work, seemed to calm him down. 

Before long, his once painful and constricting arms had loosened their hold on you, and before you knew it, he was returning the hug. His ink had solidified once again, and you could feel when he closed his mouth, smiling dropping from his face as ink returned to cover his eyes. 




Ten or so minutes passed with the two of you becoming more and more relaxed. Bendy was completely calm, to your surprise. You never actually thought that you could find ink comfortable, but here you are, a warm, purring, and vibrating mess of Bendy making you feel all sleepy. The only two things that are preventing you from fully relaxing is that 1, he is nuzzling your neck, and 2, you are on his fucking lap!

With his legs crossed, your ass was starting to fall down in between his legs like a person stuck on a toilet seat. His entire spiky back was hunched over as his head had seemed to bury itself between your hair and slightly red neck. With inky upper appendages that were completely wrapped around your body, he tucked you deep into his mutated form which seemed to radiate comfort and protection. 

You were already quite confused as to why the demon would ever want to be this close to you, but he really did seem very comfortable. In fact, he seemed quite happy. With the hum of a purr rumbling throughout his demonic ink, and every time you so much as twitched making him shiver in delight, he seemed more than content in the current situation. 

Physically speaking, you are very comfortable. You're just too close to him, and you two had literally just met. You were never this physically close with your Grunkle or ex, and yet here you are, with a near stranger, being held like a rabbit in a toddlers hands. In a sense, you were both comfortable yet uncomfortable. And the pregnant silence between you two certainly didn't help. 



“Would you like to talk about it?” You finally managed to croak out, referencing to the conversation that started this entire thing in the first place. You could feel the demons hold stiffen, then after a second, he shook his rested head back and forth. 


“Not a good idea… Get more upset if I do.” Oh my god! He literally just said that into your ear with 500 degree hot breath! You had to manually resist the shiver that threatened to crawl up your back. You really couldn't handle this anymore. 


“Er, Bendy?” By the mention of his name you could feel as his hold immediately grew tighter on you, his purring increasing in volume as he nuzzled your neck even deeper. 


“Could you let me go?” Welp, if he didn't tense before, then he definitely tensed just now. Guess he really didn't wanna let you go. You could even hear as his purring stopped and a soft growl began, making you want to shit your pants. All that sleepiness, warmth and comfort you just had seemed to leave you in the blink of an eye. You did not feel safe anymore, and felt no warm feelings whatsoever now. 


“Please Bendy.” It seemed your plea had worked. Slowly yet surely, the demon loosened his grip on you, allowing you to slide out of his grasp. The unease you felt had completely left you, and it seems like Bendy was just starting to realize what he had been doing, if the dark gray blush covering nearly his entire face didn't account for this. 

Giving mercy on the poor thing, you decided to clear your throat, gaining the little devil darlin’s attention. 


“Are you ready to chop some signs?” With an affirmative nod from the demon, in an hours time, the two of you had completely managed to finish chopping all of the needed signs, leaving you with yet another task complete.