Nothing But The Truth

By The Author

The Demon.

The Studio.

The letter.

The game.

The script.

And finally, the revision.

Joey stopped. He had no more to tell. Neither he nor Henry had hardly moved. Henry's hard stare had turned thoughtful as he mulled over Joey's story.

After some time of silence, Henry asked one last question. "That's the whole truth?"

Joey inhaled slowly. He held his breath for a few seconds, then nodded and answered softly, "Nothing but."

Henry lingered a moment longer, then turned and strode away down the cog steps, out the room, and down the hallway.

"Wh-uh, H-Henry?" Joey called, standing and following. Henry had stopped at the edge of the ink moat with his hands clenched and head bowed. Joey paused at the threshold of the short entrance and the larger hall. He opened his mouth to say something when Henry's body tensed and his head lifted.

An instant later, an animalistic scream shot from Henry's throat. The sound was magnified by the cavern walls and quite literally sent small shockwaves across the ink at his feet. Henry screamed and screamed, his breath seemingly never running out. Joey could tell he was letting everything inside him come out, words, thoughts, emotions, all of it.

Well, almost all of it.

Once the fading echoes of the man's frustrations were vented, Henry collapsed to his knees and choked out a sob.

Joey watched as his friend, his calm, stalwart friend, utterly shatter. He felt a sort of fascinated pity seeing Henry like this. Then again, was he himself not in the same position an hour ago?

Slowly, quietly, Joey eased himself to Henry's side and sat down behind him, assuming his familiar knees-to-his-chest position. He phased in and out of focus, letting his mind wander for a while, then catching snippets of whimpered words from Henry. He pieced together "Linda," "nightmare," "escape," and "sorry."

'Sorry'? Why was Henry sorry? None of this was his fault. He couldn't have known he was being lured into a trap. He couldn't have known any of this would happen.

It wasn't his fault. That belonged to Joey.

By the time Joey refocused, Henry had sat back and let his legs rest on the stairs. His head was lowered and in his hands, but the flood of tears had subsided.

Joey sat quietly, offering his presence until Henry decided to either talk or leave.

Eventually, Henry inhaled deeply and looked out over the moat. He glanced sideways at Joey, then back to the middle distance.

"Are you okay?" Joey asked quietly.

Henry scoffed with a brief smile that immediately vanished, "Are you?" he responded shakily.

Joey stared through the ink. "No."

With another scoff followed by a deep sigh, Henry combed his fingers through his hair, "I just want to sleep right now."

"The chair's pretty comfortable," offered Joey with a head turn.

Henry let out a derisive chuckle. He scrubbed at his eyes then looked to the other side of the moat. "Alice and Tom are gone."

"Nothing here is supposed to exist after the reel is played. They probably melted back into the ink."

"Mhm." Henry pointedly looked at Joey, "And you can swear to me that they weren't alive?"