Where Do I Begin? (A BATIM Bendy x Reader story) *UNDER EDITING*

✨Fifteen✨

You woke up, tired beyond belief. Oh yeah, whatever that thing was had been scratching the walls last night. You were freaked.

"Bendy, what's downstairs?" You asked him several times.

"Nothing interesting." "Old recording tools." "Nothing useful." He'd always reply. You never really got a solid answer from him. Even when you asked him about what was making the noises, he would beat around the bush and give a wishy washy answer.

You were really fed up with him hiding things from you. You couldn't get an answer from him, so you were going to get one from whatever was down there. When the light shining from the exit door, indicating sunlight, would be at its brightest, that was when Bendy took breaks down to Boris's room to wallow in pity and beg for his revival and forgiveness for knocking over the projector. He spent little time in there, but enough to get a foot in the dirt.

You dipped your hands and feet into a pile of semi-dried, particularly sticky ink before waddling on your heels over to the exit. Lowering yourself into the pit separating you from the door by your elbows, you gripped the side of the walls and began your decent.

When there was no place for your foot to land, so you assumed you were close to the ceiling. You carefully dropped down into the basement, where you saw a faint light at the end of a hallway. Bingo! You looked around for something, anything, you could use to defend yourself. You settled on a rusty axe lying carelessly about. You silently set about nearing the light source, and peeked around the corner of the hall. There was no one there. Confused and thoroughly terrified, you began white knuckling your axe, approaching the ominous pentagram to investigate. The candles were in perfectly good shape, meaning something had recently set it alight. Your eyes widened in terror as you looked around the room, eyes searching for whoever was lurking in the darkness.

The intense fear of the moment drove you crazy, your nostrils flaring as sweat beaded down your forehead. It was as if whatever was there was trying to give you a heart attack. You couldn't handle the pressure any longer.

A single drop of your sweat fell to the floor, as it all happened in slow motion.

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Whale...fuck.

Actually no, don't fuck whales.

Anyway, I'm tired af, goodnight, here's an update *throws it in center of fangirl group and watches it get devoured ten seconds flat* Ō^Ō

Peace --  Mama Me-*asleep on couch*