Mia Blaze
I'mma gonna Deku in the face, Kacchan
I've had this up on my fanfiction account for some time now and, as I come to a close writing chapter 3 for the story, I wanted to post it up here to get a different perspective on the story. Anyway, this is a crossover horror story which has some gore in it but most of the horror is through description and psychological methods. I hope you enjoy!
An Old Invitation
The taxi jutted across the landscape, following the concrete laid road perfectly through the little town that was once well known for holding the studios of Sillyvision, an animation company credited for the creation of the old cartoon classic, ‘The Dancing Demon – Starring Bendy the Devil!’. The studio’s reputation soon expanded after popular request of kids and adults alike. Bendy was joined by Boris the Wolf and Alice Angel and soon enough their creator, Joey Drew, had rose all three of them to stardom. For a while, Bendy and his crew were the stars of children’s animation and entertainment, that was until the place shut down expectantly a few years ago due to staff disappearances.
Never in all of his years as a taxi driver had Mr Caraway questioned a client’s set destination but now, more than ever, he wanted to so badly. The black-haired boy in the back was silent, reading a letter of some kind that was clutched tightly in his hands over and over again. The words on that piece of cream paper must have meant the world to the kid reading them. He glanced into the back as the boy pulled down his sleeveless blue jacket, covering more of his red top – with rolled up sleeves – as his free hand scrunched up the grey fabric of his trousers.
The boy was an enigma to Mr Caraway, who couldn’t honestly see why a fifteen-year-old would be headed to a destination of an animation studio made for children half his age. Maybe he was one of the children of one of the missing staff members but they normally came in a group on the day everything went wrong, not randomly on a peculiar day of any old month. The boy said nothing, nor did anything other than look out the window or read the letter. It seemed as if something was ebbing away at him but, no matter how many times the old taxi driver tried to make a conversation, the boy would never answer and just stare out the window to prove a point. He didn’t want to talk and he wasn’t going too.
The buildings began to thin around them as the taxi edged closer to its destination, one or two began appearing dotted around the countryside. Minutes passed as though they were hours, time slowing like the taxi as it made a turn to the right to enter the driveway towards Sillyvision Studios.
“Alright, we’re here…” Caraway mentioned, which was given a silent thank you along with a nice sum of money for the long trip before the boy stepped out and shut the door behind him. The taxi driver felt a need to stop the child from entering, fearing the worst about that place, but controlled his feelings by driving away into the fog that was rolling in across the fields and road.
The gate was open, right one swinging to and fro with the wind. Its downwards bars and curved top were reminiscent to that of a prison entrance, the rackety wooden studio was a wonderment in itself, especially with how it was still standing upright even after the beating the weather and time had given it. The wood still had its golden cream shine, with the giant logo for the studios towering ahead, a cut out of Bendy leaning on the words whilst waving to the world as it passed by their abandoned home. Below the sign, a handle to the entrance beckoned the child inside.
A deep breath.
The crumpling noise of paper.
Another deep breath.
With nothing left to hold him back, Ash pushed down on the handle and entered.
A blast of warmth hit his face immediately after stepping through the doorway, something he wanted to preserve for as long as he was there meaning that shutting the door behind him was the best thing to do. The entrance was a short corridor, posters of the films made at the studios framed perfectly with the pride of a famous studio that refused to go mainstream. Wood seemed to be the only material that the studio had ever met, which was quite useful in the secluded location of its position, boards formed the floor and the skirting boards with the walls painted the same colour for no particular reason. Up ahead was an open space with a bench, animation desks were strewn around the place randomly with more corridors leading to unknown rooms that seemingly had no purpose.
Above all else, the studio looked empty. There was no noise, no chatting of workers, no music coming from downstairs being recorded for the cartoons, no nothing. With a raised eyebrow, Ash looked back at the letter that had been posted through his mailbox a few days beforehand, re-reading the words for the umpteenth time.
Dear Ash,
It seems like ages since I last saw you running around here with your father, years just seem to fly by like nothing nowadays, don’t they?
Speaking of your father, I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of here a while back. I’d like to talk to you about him, maybe the sight of you will make him calmer again and allow him to continue his work? Either way, please meet with me at your earliest convenience.
Yours, Joey Drew
If this place was still running like the letter insinuated it was, then wouldn’t there be people at their desks drawing? Wouldn’t there be noise? Wouldn’t Mr Drew at least be there to greet him personally? Ash took a few steps forward, testing the waters to see if anyone would hear him enter. Once again, the silence of the studios covered his senses, spiking a feeling of danger through the fifteen-year-old. This could be a trap for some kind of joke, something for some TV show or something along those lines.
“Hello, Mr Drew?” Internally, he scolded himself for calling out. If this place was haunted, then he had just revealed himself to the masses of ghosts that were ready to pounce on his delectable human body made of flesh and bones. “Mr Drew, it’s Henry’s kid…. You wrote me a letter telling me to come here?” Nothing, just pure, unaltered silence. Was this everyone’s day off? If so, why was the door unlocked?
Maybe a cleaner left to get lunch or something and left it unlocked, if so then it wouldn’t harm to stay around and see what had happened to the place since he was there already. If there was one place he had to go immediately, then it had to be his father’s workstation. Ignoring the other equipment in the main space, he turned to the right towards the cornered off section of the desk, tucked away from view.
Henry’s workspace included a doorway opposite, which lead to his office as the head of animation. Ash, even back when he was little, knew not to go up there. It was a heaven gifted to his father by Joey Drew himself for being a close friend and for helping him reach to the level of fame he wanted Bendy to reach. That heaven was sacred to Henry, who would go up there if the noise of the other workers got too much for him whilst animating, even though his bench was hidden from everyone else.
Unease settled through him as his eyes latched onto the doorway leading to his father’s safe spot, the wooden planks boarding it up away from view made him feel as if Mr Drew was delusional. If Henry hadn’t been to work in a while, then his office wouldn’t be hidden, locked up from anyone so no one could ever try entering it again. His father hadn’t been gone a while, it seemed as if he’d been gone months, or even years. Light still shone down from one of the office’s windows, illuminating the stairwell leading up to its hidden mysteries. Worrying about it wouldn’t be of any help, especially when there was no way to get into the space thanks to the board that were nailed across it.
Almost guiltily, Ash turned back towards the desk having to discard any thoughts about what his father was hiding up there. He distinctly remembered being told that, under no circumstances should he ever be aloud up there even in the event of Henry’s unfortunate demise. His eyes rested on a piece of paper on the desk with a cute Bendy face on it drawn in ink, the note next to it said ‘NO!’ with a hidden tone of anger hiding behind the word.
A smile formed on his lips as he remembered the day he had asked his father to draw a cuter Bendy as a child. Henry, being the loving man that he was, agreed and made it up for him in minutes. Chuckling at the note, an idea formed in the teenager’s mind. Looking around, he found an ink jar with a dried-out fountain pen underneath the desk. Just his luck. The ink hadn’t solidified thanks to the stopper on top of the jar, allowing him to use the pen to draw his own manga version of the cartoon character, winking whilst smiling in a cute pose. For a laugh, he wrote ‘Yes!’ in swirly letters beside his own creation, laughing at the thought of the reaction the person who made that note would have.
Knowing that joking around at his father’s workspace would get him nowhere, Ash left the secluded area back to the main space, looking at the only way he could go. The left way went to his father’s secluded area, the right lead deeper into the studio. Although he had prior experience with the studios, the teenager was only five when he had last visited the place meaning he couldn’t remember the layout exactly. The idea was just to find Mr Drew, find out what he wanted and get out.
For a while, he wandered aimlessly with hopes of finding any sign of a worker or someone who could point him in the direction of Mr Drew. Countless doors and work desks passed him until an empty area stopped him in his tracks. Written on the wall, in ink, was the phrase ‘Dreams come true’ with a puddle of the sticky substance resting on the floor beside it. No self-respecting head of an animation studio would let a worker deface their walls, even if the phrase was supposed to be an image of the company’s motto through their movies. Touching the inscription revealed that the ink was bone dry, not recently made. Did that mean no one had been in for a while? Then why had the letter insinuated the place was still up and running?
Ash backed away slowly until a room at the end of the corridor caught his attention. Some weird contraption was held inside, its appearance grew weirder with each step closer he took. Entering the room gave him a clear view of the device. It was made out of multiple cogs and gears, square in shape with a nozzle spouting ink from the end in random small bursts. On the back, a tank with the word INK was attached tightly to the machine, probably fuelling it. Before he could say anything, his eyes rested on a note dropped by the floor.
To activate the Ink Machine, six offerings must be made. Find them and the power to turn on to be blessed in the dark liquid of life.
Okay, that was weird. The handwriting resembled the one on the letter he got, but there were slight differences with the dotting of the i’s and curling of the g’s. Maybe this was someone who had a similar style to Mr Drew but was also insane? Ink was toxic, everyone knew that, it could cause death instead of life. What exactly did the note mean by that? His brain was telling him to run, go and find the nearest phone booth and call his mother to pick him up. Ash sighed internally at his own thoughts, even after five years of travelling his mother still wouldn’t allow him a mobile phone. Didn’t the woman know it meant he could call her once a night if she wanted to?
He left the Ink Machine room, searching for a simple switch which may have been able to turn it on. If Joey Drew was testing him, then turning on the machine must have been the said test. Turning right at the nearest entrance led him up another path, his eyes noticing a lever in the distance. He smiled, this was easy. As he neared the L shaped bend into it, a board from the ceiling dropped onto the ground, clattering slightly as he jumped. It was just a loose board, he told himself over and over whilst trying to still his breath.
Thanks to that jumpscare, he didn’t notice the other room at the end of the corridor.
Entering the room with the power switch, Ash noticed there were six pedestals, each with a silhouetted picture behind them. So, this is what the note meant about the six offerings? That meant he had to search for the items on the floor.
“Great, just my luck…” A quick scan of the room revealed that there were no items to be found in there, so he sauntered back into the corridor, ready to make his way back to the ink machine, where he had noticed a cog and an ink pot hidden away. Something stopped him, however. He jumped back as a Bendy cut-out had appeared out of nowhere, blocking his view and scaring him. Someone had to be here to do that whilst he was in the room, which terrified him no end. It seemed he wasn’t alone.
Walking around the demonic cardboard cut-out latched his line of sight directly onto a figure strapped to an almost vertical operating table. A figure he knew all too well.
“B-b-b-b-Boris?” Ash ran towards the table, scanning the corpse of the animation that had turned into a real life being in the physical plane. He knew that, Boris used to hang out with his father all the time whilst he went off with Bendy wreaking havoc for the workers. Alice Angel would never get herself involved due to a… distaste in the matter.
Joey Drew had brought his cartoons to life, somehow, and because of it three living beings, acting like costumed voice actors, helping give tours but the staff and Ash knew better. They knew the truth behind the three cartoons and were forced to keep it quiet or else. Joey was already going mad with the power of the creator, it wouldn’t be long before everything went wrong and it must have, just not when he was around.
Seeing Boris in such a state turned Ash’s thoughts to his father, wondering how the man would react to this. Boris had formed a bond with Henry that he didn’t have with anyone else, just like Bendy had with him. Ribcage open, mouth open with the cartoonish X’s for eyes would have sent Henry screaming in anger. For Ash, it just brought tears of shame and guilt. He hadn’t stepped foot in the establishment for ten years, and it showed with how little he knew of what was happening. Where was Alice and Bendy, where were the workers? The teen couldn’t help but feeling terrible as he stared at the still form of the cartoon wolf.
For some reason, his mother’s nagging voice filled his head, telling him off for leaving a wound open to the elements. Whilst true fresh air helped some wounds, the germs and diseases carried through it didn’t help ones such as Boris’ who literally had his ribcage pushing out from his chest. Something immediately came to mind but, after it, so did the image of his mother killing him with a lecture. There was one thing he could do to make himself feel less guilt about the situation and that was wrapping up the open chest with some kind of bandage to give Boris a decent appearance in death. However, the only thing on him was his clothing, and he needed most of them… minus the jacket.
Luckily, whoever had played their hand in Boris’ demise had left a pair of clean scissors behind, leaving him with just one option. His jacket was about to get a lot shorter. Carefully, he snipped around the fabric – after taking the jacket off of course – leaving enough to keep the item in one piece but taking off enough to wrap around the chest of Boris. It only made one loop, but it covered the wound even when tied together in a knot. After accomplishing that, Ash put back on his now considerably shorter jacket whilst noticing the book – handwritten by Joey Drew himself – propped up against the table. As soon as his fingers ghosted over the top of the cover, it vanished into thin air. Great, how was he going to get the items needed now?! A quick check back in the power room revealed that the book was now floating on its own pedestal, having teleported somehow under human touch. That made his job a whole lot easier.
With one last look to Boris, Ash left to search deeper into the studios for the items he needed to restore the power. If only he had never left, then maybe Boris wouldn’t have been in the position he was in now.
Like he had predicted, the ink pot and the cog were in the room with the ink machine, the wrench was by his father’s desk, the plush doll was on the main desk in the open space and the vinyl was beside the wall with the message about dreams written on it. Those were all the items needed to activate the machine, and thus meant the trek back to the switch.
Ash hated himself at the moment as paranoia crept up on him. The Bendy cut-outs in the building seemed to move freely, some even following his movements. If that wasn’t bad enough, some of the doors had lights under them that would go out as soon as he walked near them. It didn’t help said doors were locked with no one inside. With no one around, minus the dead body of Boris with the Frankenstein re-enactment, it made the job increasingly harder for him to handle. It felt like any minute some being would jump out and grab him.
Of course, his paranoia turned to anger when it was revealed that he had to go and find the flow switch for the pressure on the machine before he could turn the power back on. That meant trekking deeper into the bowels of the studio to find yet another button to press/another flip to switch before he could get the machine running. Leaving the creepily floating items in place. He turned and left for the room where the flow switch was.
One thing he hadn’t realised was that he had passed by one of those old cassette tape recorders multiple times without even noticing its existence. Out of pure curiosity, he made sure the tape was rewound back to the beginning and played it.
“I had a feeling about this,” Ash’s eyes almost bulged out of his sockets as his father’s voice flowed clearly through the ink splattered device. “Joey was going insane when he made those three, and things got even worse after his precious Bendy began interacting with Ashton. Something told me Joey would go this crazy over his creations, but I never listened to it… I should have known better, shouldn’t I? Well… Joey, if you’re listening, consider this my letter of resignation for my family’s safety. Yes, in the word of good old Wally Franks, I’m outta here.” The tape ended suddenly, leaving the teen to ponder over the words he heard.
Was this the reason why they moved to Pallet? Was it because his father was worried about their lives under the influence of Joey Drew? If so, then was the man that owned this place still as insane as he was back then cause if so, Ash knew he was in a lot of trouble. That was actually saying something because trouble followed him everywhere and he remained blissfully unaware until the last minute, and this time there were no Pokémon on hand to save him if he ended up in some sort of life threatening trouble.
Pikachu was having his monthly check up at Professor Oak’s, as were all of his other Pokémon under the professor’s care and, being the headstrong boy that he was, he didn’t wait around for them to be treated so he could bring six with him just in case. To be honest, he didn’t want them to be here. If things were as bad as Boris’ corpse on the table told him, then danger was eminent the longer he stayed there. Of course, he couldn’t feel danger if it slapped him in the face with a Magikarp.
From what Ash could gather from the lack of the flow switch in any of the rooms he had been in, the corridor he had not traversed included a room to that said switch he needed to flip. Everything had been fine until a familiar face popped out around the side, causing him to jump and stumble backwards as the Bendy cut-out disappeared back to the wall. He quickly ran the rest of the way, finding the cut-out propped against the wall with a puddle of ink at its feet. Okay, that was odd. Ash shook his head, glaring at the cardboard thing as he passed it into the cinema room.
A memory flashed through his eyes as a ghostly child with his father watched a movie on it, two cartoon figures sitting either side of the humans. It faded after a while but left him silent at the guilt. Why did he let his parents move? Maybe if they hadn’t Boris wouldn’t be dead after some form of experimentation that had happened for some reason. Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he walked past the wooden chairs to the side, staring at row upon row of reel for animation sequences. He turned around and, as if his thoughts had been heard, the flow switch button was right in his face.
“That was easier than I expected…” Ash muttered to himself, pressing it before heading back to the power switch room, passing Boris along the way. The flashing word ‘Ready’ alerted him to the task that was needed to give power to the ink machine. With a deep breath, he pulled the lever down, hearing the groaning of machinery springing to life after a while of misuse. However, it wasn’t as loud as he expected it to be as if it had been used within the past twelve months. Frowning, he left the room to check on the ink machine, once again passing Boris but this time, the blue wrapping was being drenched in ink somehow… oh. Ash almost threw up, covering his mouth as he dashed on by trying to push the image out of his brain. He paused outside the turn to the ink machine, choosing then and there to expel the contents of his stomach.
“No… no no no…” He leant against the post, turning his head to the room of his goal which caused him to freeze. Why were there boards across the entrance way on the inside of the room? The teen slowly edged closer, one footstep in front of the other. Cautiously he peered in as he was almost at touching distance when suddenly, he felt a hand scratch his face as something popped out of nowhere.
Falling onto his behind, Ash looked up trembling as his eyes met the ink dripping, creepily grinning face of a monster, a humanoid monster that was reaching out blindly, trying to grab at the teenager that had once been standing where it could clasp his face. Left hand shaking, he rose it to his cheek before pulling his hand back to find it stained with ink, and ink only explaining the lack of pain. His fear wasn’t just because of the sudden appearance of the monster, it was because of what the monster was… Bendy.
A gasp escaped his lips as the Bendy monster melted into the ink that was filling up the floor, covering everything around him in the black substance. By now, Ash was in the right state of mind to tell Joey Drew to piss off and find out about Henry using his own methods. He needed to get out of there.
Pushing himself up whilst stumbling, the boy ran through the halls whilst trying his hardest not to slip on the substance as he did so. If that creature could melt into ink, then it could be chasing him at the moment. Never before had he been more scared in his life and he had dealt with the universe’s angry creator named Arceus. Ash burst out from the corridor like maze into the large space that led right to the exit, the last hurdle before his escape. He made a last mad dash for the exit, hoping to get out of there and call the police or something. What he wasn’t expecting was that the floor would collapse under him just as he reached the door.
Everything went in slow motion, the feeling of gravity pulling him down, the sight of the exit falling away from his grasp. Ash tried to grasp for the wood remaining but the flooding of ink made it too slippery for him to even try to get a grasp on it. He screamed as he fell down into the darkness, ink following down with him as he vanished into a murky abyss.
An Old Invitation
The taxi jutted across the landscape, following the concrete laid road perfectly through the little town that was once well known for holding the studios of Sillyvision, an animation company credited for the creation of the old cartoon classic, ‘The Dancing Demon – Starring Bendy the Devil!’. The studio’s reputation soon expanded after popular request of kids and adults alike. Bendy was joined by Boris the Wolf and Alice Angel and soon enough their creator, Joey Drew, had rose all three of them to stardom. For a while, Bendy and his crew were the stars of children’s animation and entertainment, that was until the place shut down expectantly a few years ago due to staff disappearances.
Never in all of his years as a taxi driver had Mr Caraway questioned a client’s set destination but now, more than ever, he wanted to so badly. The black-haired boy in the back was silent, reading a letter of some kind that was clutched tightly in his hands over and over again. The words on that piece of cream paper must have meant the world to the kid reading them. He glanced into the back as the boy pulled down his sleeveless blue jacket, covering more of his red top – with rolled up sleeves – as his free hand scrunched up the grey fabric of his trousers.
The boy was an enigma to Mr Caraway, who couldn’t honestly see why a fifteen-year-old would be headed to a destination of an animation studio made for children half his age. Maybe he was one of the children of one of the missing staff members but they normally came in a group on the day everything went wrong, not randomly on a peculiar day of any old month. The boy said nothing, nor did anything other than look out the window or read the letter. It seemed as if something was ebbing away at him but, no matter how many times the old taxi driver tried to make a conversation, the boy would never answer and just stare out the window to prove a point. He didn’t want to talk and he wasn’t going too.
The buildings began to thin around them as the taxi edged closer to its destination, one or two began appearing dotted around the countryside. Minutes passed as though they were hours, time slowing like the taxi as it made a turn to the right to enter the driveway towards Sillyvision Studios.
“Alright, we’re here…” Caraway mentioned, which was given a silent thank you along with a nice sum of money for the long trip before the boy stepped out and shut the door behind him. The taxi driver felt a need to stop the child from entering, fearing the worst about that place, but controlled his feelings by driving away into the fog that was rolling in across the fields and road.
The gate was open, right one swinging to and fro with the wind. Its downwards bars and curved top were reminiscent to that of a prison entrance, the rackety wooden studio was a wonderment in itself, especially with how it was still standing upright even after the beating the weather and time had given it. The wood still had its golden cream shine, with the giant logo for the studios towering ahead, a cut out of Bendy leaning on the words whilst waving to the world as it passed by their abandoned home. Below the sign, a handle to the entrance beckoned the child inside.
A deep breath.
The crumpling noise of paper.
Another deep breath.
With nothing left to hold him back, Ash pushed down on the handle and entered.
~0~o~0~
A blast of warmth hit his face immediately after stepping through the doorway, something he wanted to preserve for as long as he was there meaning that shutting the door behind him was the best thing to do. The entrance was a short corridor, posters of the films made at the studios framed perfectly with the pride of a famous studio that refused to go mainstream. Wood seemed to be the only material that the studio had ever met, which was quite useful in the secluded location of its position, boards formed the floor and the skirting boards with the walls painted the same colour for no particular reason. Up ahead was an open space with a bench, animation desks were strewn around the place randomly with more corridors leading to unknown rooms that seemingly had no purpose.
Above all else, the studio looked empty. There was no noise, no chatting of workers, no music coming from downstairs being recorded for the cartoons, no nothing. With a raised eyebrow, Ash looked back at the letter that had been posted through his mailbox a few days beforehand, re-reading the words for the umpteenth time.
Dear Ash,
It seems like ages since I last saw you running around here with your father, years just seem to fly by like nothing nowadays, don’t they?
Speaking of your father, I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of here a while back. I’d like to talk to you about him, maybe the sight of you will make him calmer again and allow him to continue his work? Either way, please meet with me at your earliest convenience.
Yours, Joey Drew
If this place was still running like the letter insinuated it was, then wouldn’t there be people at their desks drawing? Wouldn’t there be noise? Wouldn’t Mr Drew at least be there to greet him personally? Ash took a few steps forward, testing the waters to see if anyone would hear him enter. Once again, the silence of the studios covered his senses, spiking a feeling of danger through the fifteen-year-old. This could be a trap for some kind of joke, something for some TV show or something along those lines.
“Hello, Mr Drew?” Internally, he scolded himself for calling out. If this place was haunted, then he had just revealed himself to the masses of ghosts that were ready to pounce on his delectable human body made of flesh and bones. “Mr Drew, it’s Henry’s kid…. You wrote me a letter telling me to come here?” Nothing, just pure, unaltered silence. Was this everyone’s day off? If so, why was the door unlocked?
Maybe a cleaner left to get lunch or something and left it unlocked, if so then it wouldn’t harm to stay around and see what had happened to the place since he was there already. If there was one place he had to go immediately, then it had to be his father’s workstation. Ignoring the other equipment in the main space, he turned to the right towards the cornered off section of the desk, tucked away from view.
Henry’s workspace included a doorway opposite, which lead to his office as the head of animation. Ash, even back when he was little, knew not to go up there. It was a heaven gifted to his father by Joey Drew himself for being a close friend and for helping him reach to the level of fame he wanted Bendy to reach. That heaven was sacred to Henry, who would go up there if the noise of the other workers got too much for him whilst animating, even though his bench was hidden from everyone else.
Unease settled through him as his eyes latched onto the doorway leading to his father’s safe spot, the wooden planks boarding it up away from view made him feel as if Mr Drew was delusional. If Henry hadn’t been to work in a while, then his office wouldn’t be hidden, locked up from anyone so no one could ever try entering it again. His father hadn’t been gone a while, it seemed as if he’d been gone months, or even years. Light still shone down from one of the office’s windows, illuminating the stairwell leading up to its hidden mysteries. Worrying about it wouldn’t be of any help, especially when there was no way to get into the space thanks to the board that were nailed across it.
Almost guiltily, Ash turned back towards the desk having to discard any thoughts about what his father was hiding up there. He distinctly remembered being told that, under no circumstances should he ever be aloud up there even in the event of Henry’s unfortunate demise. His eyes rested on a piece of paper on the desk with a cute Bendy face on it drawn in ink, the note next to it said ‘NO!’ with a hidden tone of anger hiding behind the word.
A smile formed on his lips as he remembered the day he had asked his father to draw a cuter Bendy as a child. Henry, being the loving man that he was, agreed and made it up for him in minutes. Chuckling at the note, an idea formed in the teenager’s mind. Looking around, he found an ink jar with a dried-out fountain pen underneath the desk. Just his luck. The ink hadn’t solidified thanks to the stopper on top of the jar, allowing him to use the pen to draw his own manga version of the cartoon character, winking whilst smiling in a cute pose. For a laugh, he wrote ‘Yes!’ in swirly letters beside his own creation, laughing at the thought of the reaction the person who made that note would have.
Knowing that joking around at his father’s workspace would get him nowhere, Ash left the secluded area back to the main space, looking at the only way he could go. The left way went to his father’s secluded area, the right lead deeper into the studio. Although he had prior experience with the studios, the teenager was only five when he had last visited the place meaning he couldn’t remember the layout exactly. The idea was just to find Mr Drew, find out what he wanted and get out.
For a while, he wandered aimlessly with hopes of finding any sign of a worker or someone who could point him in the direction of Mr Drew. Countless doors and work desks passed him until an empty area stopped him in his tracks. Written on the wall, in ink, was the phrase ‘Dreams come true’ with a puddle of the sticky substance resting on the floor beside it. No self-respecting head of an animation studio would let a worker deface their walls, even if the phrase was supposed to be an image of the company’s motto through their movies. Touching the inscription revealed that the ink was bone dry, not recently made. Did that mean no one had been in for a while? Then why had the letter insinuated the place was still up and running?
Ash backed away slowly until a room at the end of the corridor caught his attention. Some weird contraption was held inside, its appearance grew weirder with each step closer he took. Entering the room gave him a clear view of the device. It was made out of multiple cogs and gears, square in shape with a nozzle spouting ink from the end in random small bursts. On the back, a tank with the word INK was attached tightly to the machine, probably fuelling it. Before he could say anything, his eyes rested on a note dropped by the floor.
To activate the Ink Machine, six offerings must be made. Find them and the power to turn on to be blessed in the dark liquid of life.
Okay, that was weird. The handwriting resembled the one on the letter he got, but there were slight differences with the dotting of the i’s and curling of the g’s. Maybe this was someone who had a similar style to Mr Drew but was also insane? Ink was toxic, everyone knew that, it could cause death instead of life. What exactly did the note mean by that? His brain was telling him to run, go and find the nearest phone booth and call his mother to pick him up. Ash sighed internally at his own thoughts, even after five years of travelling his mother still wouldn’t allow him a mobile phone. Didn’t the woman know it meant he could call her once a night if she wanted to?
He left the Ink Machine room, searching for a simple switch which may have been able to turn it on. If Joey Drew was testing him, then turning on the machine must have been the said test. Turning right at the nearest entrance led him up another path, his eyes noticing a lever in the distance. He smiled, this was easy. As he neared the L shaped bend into it, a board from the ceiling dropped onto the ground, clattering slightly as he jumped. It was just a loose board, he told himself over and over whilst trying to still his breath.
Thanks to that jumpscare, he didn’t notice the other room at the end of the corridor.
Entering the room with the power switch, Ash noticed there were six pedestals, each with a silhouetted picture behind them. So, this is what the note meant about the six offerings? That meant he had to search for the items on the floor.
“Great, just my luck…” A quick scan of the room revealed that there were no items to be found in there, so he sauntered back into the corridor, ready to make his way back to the ink machine, where he had noticed a cog and an ink pot hidden away. Something stopped him, however. He jumped back as a Bendy cut-out had appeared out of nowhere, blocking his view and scaring him. Someone had to be here to do that whilst he was in the room, which terrified him no end. It seemed he wasn’t alone.
Walking around the demonic cardboard cut-out latched his line of sight directly onto a figure strapped to an almost vertical operating table. A figure he knew all too well.
“B-b-b-b-Boris?” Ash ran towards the table, scanning the corpse of the animation that had turned into a real life being in the physical plane. He knew that, Boris used to hang out with his father all the time whilst he went off with Bendy wreaking havoc for the workers. Alice Angel would never get herself involved due to a… distaste in the matter.
Joey Drew had brought his cartoons to life, somehow, and because of it three living beings, acting like costumed voice actors, helping give tours but the staff and Ash knew better. They knew the truth behind the three cartoons and were forced to keep it quiet or else. Joey was already going mad with the power of the creator, it wouldn’t be long before everything went wrong and it must have, just not when he was around.
Seeing Boris in such a state turned Ash’s thoughts to his father, wondering how the man would react to this. Boris had formed a bond with Henry that he didn’t have with anyone else, just like Bendy had with him. Ribcage open, mouth open with the cartoonish X’s for eyes would have sent Henry screaming in anger. For Ash, it just brought tears of shame and guilt. He hadn’t stepped foot in the establishment for ten years, and it showed with how little he knew of what was happening. Where was Alice and Bendy, where were the workers? The teen couldn’t help but feeling terrible as he stared at the still form of the cartoon wolf.
For some reason, his mother’s nagging voice filled his head, telling him off for leaving a wound open to the elements. Whilst true fresh air helped some wounds, the germs and diseases carried through it didn’t help ones such as Boris’ who literally had his ribcage pushing out from his chest. Something immediately came to mind but, after it, so did the image of his mother killing him with a lecture. There was one thing he could do to make himself feel less guilt about the situation and that was wrapping up the open chest with some kind of bandage to give Boris a decent appearance in death. However, the only thing on him was his clothing, and he needed most of them… minus the jacket.
Luckily, whoever had played their hand in Boris’ demise had left a pair of clean scissors behind, leaving him with just one option. His jacket was about to get a lot shorter. Carefully, he snipped around the fabric – after taking the jacket off of course – leaving enough to keep the item in one piece but taking off enough to wrap around the chest of Boris. It only made one loop, but it covered the wound even when tied together in a knot. After accomplishing that, Ash put back on his now considerably shorter jacket whilst noticing the book – handwritten by Joey Drew himself – propped up against the table. As soon as his fingers ghosted over the top of the cover, it vanished into thin air. Great, how was he going to get the items needed now?! A quick check back in the power room revealed that the book was now floating on its own pedestal, having teleported somehow under human touch. That made his job a whole lot easier.
With one last look to Boris, Ash left to search deeper into the studios for the items he needed to restore the power. If only he had never left, then maybe Boris wouldn’t have been in the position he was in now.
~0~o~0~
Like he had predicted, the ink pot and the cog were in the room with the ink machine, the wrench was by his father’s desk, the plush doll was on the main desk in the open space and the vinyl was beside the wall with the message about dreams written on it. Those were all the items needed to activate the machine, and thus meant the trek back to the switch.
Ash hated himself at the moment as paranoia crept up on him. The Bendy cut-outs in the building seemed to move freely, some even following his movements. If that wasn’t bad enough, some of the doors had lights under them that would go out as soon as he walked near them. It didn’t help said doors were locked with no one inside. With no one around, minus the dead body of Boris with the Frankenstein re-enactment, it made the job increasingly harder for him to handle. It felt like any minute some being would jump out and grab him.
Of course, his paranoia turned to anger when it was revealed that he had to go and find the flow switch for the pressure on the machine before he could turn the power back on. That meant trekking deeper into the bowels of the studio to find yet another button to press/another flip to switch before he could get the machine running. Leaving the creepily floating items in place. He turned and left for the room where the flow switch was.
One thing he hadn’t realised was that he had passed by one of those old cassette tape recorders multiple times without even noticing its existence. Out of pure curiosity, he made sure the tape was rewound back to the beginning and played it.
“I had a feeling about this,” Ash’s eyes almost bulged out of his sockets as his father’s voice flowed clearly through the ink splattered device. “Joey was going insane when he made those three, and things got even worse after his precious Bendy began interacting with Ashton. Something told me Joey would go this crazy over his creations, but I never listened to it… I should have known better, shouldn’t I? Well… Joey, if you’re listening, consider this my letter of resignation for my family’s safety. Yes, in the word of good old Wally Franks, I’m outta here.” The tape ended suddenly, leaving the teen to ponder over the words he heard.
Was this the reason why they moved to Pallet? Was it because his father was worried about their lives under the influence of Joey Drew? If so, then was the man that owned this place still as insane as he was back then cause if so, Ash knew he was in a lot of trouble. That was actually saying something because trouble followed him everywhere and he remained blissfully unaware until the last minute, and this time there were no Pokémon on hand to save him if he ended up in some sort of life threatening trouble.
Pikachu was having his monthly check up at Professor Oak’s, as were all of his other Pokémon under the professor’s care and, being the headstrong boy that he was, he didn’t wait around for them to be treated so he could bring six with him just in case. To be honest, he didn’t want them to be here. If things were as bad as Boris’ corpse on the table told him, then danger was eminent the longer he stayed there. Of course, he couldn’t feel danger if it slapped him in the face with a Magikarp.
From what Ash could gather from the lack of the flow switch in any of the rooms he had been in, the corridor he had not traversed included a room to that said switch he needed to flip. Everything had been fine until a familiar face popped out around the side, causing him to jump and stumble backwards as the Bendy cut-out disappeared back to the wall. He quickly ran the rest of the way, finding the cut-out propped against the wall with a puddle of ink at its feet. Okay, that was odd. Ash shook his head, glaring at the cardboard thing as he passed it into the cinema room.
A memory flashed through his eyes as a ghostly child with his father watched a movie on it, two cartoon figures sitting either side of the humans. It faded after a while but left him silent at the guilt. Why did he let his parents move? Maybe if they hadn’t Boris wouldn’t be dead after some form of experimentation that had happened for some reason. Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he walked past the wooden chairs to the side, staring at row upon row of reel for animation sequences. He turned around and, as if his thoughts had been heard, the flow switch button was right in his face.
“That was easier than I expected…” Ash muttered to himself, pressing it before heading back to the power switch room, passing Boris along the way. The flashing word ‘Ready’ alerted him to the task that was needed to give power to the ink machine. With a deep breath, he pulled the lever down, hearing the groaning of machinery springing to life after a while of misuse. However, it wasn’t as loud as he expected it to be as if it had been used within the past twelve months. Frowning, he left the room to check on the ink machine, once again passing Boris but this time, the blue wrapping was being drenched in ink somehow… oh. Ash almost threw up, covering his mouth as he dashed on by trying to push the image out of his brain. He paused outside the turn to the ink machine, choosing then and there to expel the contents of his stomach.
“No… no no no…” He leant against the post, turning his head to the room of his goal which caused him to freeze. Why were there boards across the entrance way on the inside of the room? The teen slowly edged closer, one footstep in front of the other. Cautiously he peered in as he was almost at touching distance when suddenly, he felt a hand scratch his face as something popped out of nowhere.
Falling onto his behind, Ash looked up trembling as his eyes met the ink dripping, creepily grinning face of a monster, a humanoid monster that was reaching out blindly, trying to grab at the teenager that had once been standing where it could clasp his face. Left hand shaking, he rose it to his cheek before pulling his hand back to find it stained with ink, and ink only explaining the lack of pain. His fear wasn’t just because of the sudden appearance of the monster, it was because of what the monster was… Bendy.
A gasp escaped his lips as the Bendy monster melted into the ink that was filling up the floor, covering everything around him in the black substance. By now, Ash was in the right state of mind to tell Joey Drew to piss off and find out about Henry using his own methods. He needed to get out of there.
Pushing himself up whilst stumbling, the boy ran through the halls whilst trying his hardest not to slip on the substance as he did so. If that creature could melt into ink, then it could be chasing him at the moment. Never before had he been more scared in his life and he had dealt with the universe’s angry creator named Arceus. Ash burst out from the corridor like maze into the large space that led right to the exit, the last hurdle before his escape. He made a last mad dash for the exit, hoping to get out of there and call the police or something. What he wasn’t expecting was that the floor would collapse under him just as he reached the door.
Everything went in slow motion, the feeling of gravity pulling him down, the sight of the exit falling away from his grasp. Ash tried to grasp for the wood remaining but the flooding of ink made it too slippery for him to even try to get a grasp on it. He screamed as he fell down into the darkness, ink following down with him as he vanished into a murky abyss.