My lord... he betrayed me... he abandoned me. What did I do wrong? What could I have possibly done wrong? Why would he ever try to kill me? The prophet thought as he wandered through the dark corridor, unintentionally following the sheep that kept on killing the souls that were merged with the ink. Why would my lord try to kill his loyal prophet? Why would he-?
He noticed the little sheep coming out of a passageway only a few meters ahead of him, so he quickly hid in a dark corner to avoid getting seen, and watched the man passing by. The prophet was actually glad he couldn't breath for once, so he could not attract notice. It would have been less than appealing for him after the failed sacrifice. This man had an axe again, and the prophet was sure he would use it against him if he had the chance.
He just didn't understand why his lord would ever reject one of his offering. Did I not pray enough? Am I simply not worth to be freed? Does my lord even care about me, his prophet? Is he only an animalistic creature with the urge to kill? These questions made him feel so much bitterness and anger. He had started worshipping the ink demon, hoping to finally be free from his prison. This inky dark abyss he had called a body for such a long time. For how long had he even been like this? He didn't know, could never possibly answer this question.
Something told him it hadn't always been like that, that he had been different once. Human, not a creature made of ink, not a terrifying monster. He remembered the first time he had encountered a human being which had screamed in fear and called him a monster. He had just wanted help, but the anger he had felt about being called a monster lead him to kill it. It only proved that he really was a monster, why act as if he wasn't?
Something inside of him had always felt like worshipping a cartoon character was just ridiculous, something an insane person would do. He wasn't insane, was he? He couldn't be, insane people would never question their sanity.
It was weird, but he was sure he had felt certain feelings towards someone, feelings that had never disappeared, but as far as he could tell he had never actually told the person he loved them, and now it was too late. The prophet really wanted to find out who that person had been, if they were still here and what they had become. He couldn't remember much about them, only that he had seen this person very often and them being quiet and hiding in dark places, but he hoped they had gotten out in time. They didn't deserve to be trapped in here, too.
When he was sure the sheep was gone, he walked out of the corner and headed towards the stairs. He didn't really know where he should go now, but he would figure out what might be a good place to stay in. That was when the prophet realized he could neither return to the music department where Bendy would definitely find him and not spare his life this time nor to the Lost Ones hideout. He had always told them to pray to the ink demon, that he was his prophet and that Bendy was going to save them all. This would either leave them with no hope due to their savior not caring about them or make them hate the prophet who was not who he told them he was after all. He just wouldn't be worthy in their eyes anymore.
He hadn't even realized he had gone downstairs and was standing right in front of the elevator until the Boris clone inside of it let out a terrified whimper, covering his eyes with his gloved hands. The clone really didn't like his presence, did he? Was the prophet that terrifying?
"You don't mind me coming inside and traveling to another level, do you?" the prophet asked, but of course the clone didn't reply, so he just shrugged and stepped into the elevator.
As soon as he was in there the doors closed and a furious female voice echoed through a speaker somewhere hidden above his head, "Who do you think you are, you filthy creature, that I would allow you to use MY elevator?" It started shaking violently, making him almost fall.
The prophet didn't reply to this, wondering who this woman could possibly be. Maybe the heartless angel the Lost Ones had told him about before. It made a lot of sense, this was her area. As far as he knew she was a cruel, ugly being and brought death to every Searcher, Swollen one, Lost One, Butcher Gang member and Boris clone she encountered for her twisted experience to regain her beauty. And she despised the ink demon more than anything else. The Lost Ones said she had encountered him before and it didn't end very well for her. But why did he knew that voice?
"Tell me, you wretched worm or I'll remove your insides! I'm not going to hesitate... It would really not be good for your health, dear and it would hurt a lot." He jumped as her voice changed into a different one. He was sure he knew this second voice even better than the first one... just what was her name? He just couldn't put his finger on it, but he was sure he had heard it before. "What is that mask you are wearing? A-a Bendy mask?! Are you the ink demon's prophet?! Get out of my elevator IMMEDIATELY! He can't touch me! You can't touch me! Leave!" she screamed.
"No, I won't leave. I need to get to another level, angel, you will not stop me from doing that. And I am not his prophet anymore, I am a free person!" He shouted. Saying that he realized it was true... he wasn't the prophet anymore, but... who was he then? He couldn't remember his real name, the title as the ink demon's prophet had been the only thing close to a name, an actual identity. If he wasn't the prophet who could he possibly be then? If he could only remember his human name... if only...
"Free? Nobody is free down here, prophet. You should know the truth better than most of the other pathetic creatures down here. So what are you searching? What are you hoping to find? And why should I ever let you use my elevator, you're just another disgusting ink creature!"
"Maybe... I can help you with something," he replied, glancing up to the speaker. The wolf next to him let out a terrified whimper, but he ignored it. It was just a Boris clone, as far as he knew they were always afraid. Afraid of him, afraid of Alice... simply afraid of everything. They probably remembered the most from their previous lives and Sammy envied them for it. His behavior still seemed somewhat familiar... it didn't really matter anymore. "Maybe I can do something for you."
"...an errand? Yes, this would speed the whole process up. My little errand boy is almost finished, but you can still do one teeny tiny thing to help me, and I will let you use the elevator just once. Did you understand that, worm?" He nodded. "...good." Her voice was soft now, but he was pretty sure she only spoke like that to make him feel safer to trick him later on. He already knew what kind of creature she was. "I will let you travel down to level fourteen with the elevator and you will bring me the hearts of the Butcher Gang members lying around down there. It's an easy task."
The fact that she had to say that already proved it wasn't, but he kept his mouth shut and just stood there in silence as the elevator rolled down.
"You know, you kind of remind me of a man I once knew, before everything changed. A liar, just like everyone else in here. He was handsome and talented, but he was never being honest. He was just as bad as everyone else! I thought he might love me, but his kind of love was disgusting. SHAMEFUL! He actually told me about it when he rejected me. How can someone as admirable as him be in love with..." The angel didn't finish this last sentence and stayed quiet until the elevator arrived at level fourteen and the doors opened.
Boris let out another whimper. "Your stupid fear is getting on my nerves, stop that," he growled in the wolf's direction.
"Go now, filthy prophet, and get me what I need. Don't return before you have all of the hearts. I only spare you if you do what I tell you to." She started laughing maniacally like she had just made a funny joke. If he had eyes he would have rolled them now and there. He really didn't like that false angel. She seemed to be quiet... complicated. And he didn't think he liked that kind of person.
He exited the elevator and glanced down a balcony to a gigantic room whose floor was covered in black, sticky ink. This was literally hell. At least he could teleport through the ink and do this really quick. But why did he feel like there was something down there? Something that could easily kill him... maybe he shouldn't travel through the ink before he accidentally appeared in front of whatever was down there. "What are you waiting for, you worthless prophet? I hope you know I won't wait the whole day for you to come back... after all, I am a very busy girl." To his annoyance, she giggled at that. What a crazy, arrogant lady.
"Yes, I know, you stupid angel! I know that myself, no need to remind me about it..." the nameless man muttered, picked up the heart a Striker clone was holding and slowly walked down the stairs, wishing he had a weapon to protect himself with. Strangely, the angel didn't reply to his comment. She probably didn't care about his opinion. He was just the tool she used after all.
It took him some effort to keep his form stable while walking through the ink flooded room. He had to concentrate on it the whole time or else the ink would claim him and bring him back to the whispering, screaming and begging voices before spitting him out of an ink puddle in the form of another Searcher or Lost One, maybe even a cartoon. All he wanted was to be freed and turned back into a human. But he also wanted to see his crush again, even though he couldn't remember much about them and knew they had probably found someone else if they had gotten out in time.
He stopped near a wooden box with a tape recording on top that made him curious. He remembered sometimes listening to the ones around the music department, but it had heard him and he stopped doing that. Maybe he should listen to this one? It felt important, although he didn't know why...
He pressed the play button and listened to the voice. A very familiar voice. His head hurt, and he let out a confused whimper. He didn't even listen to the recording anymore, he heard, saw and felt something entirely else. N-norman...?
"Norman?" His voice sounded calm, even though he felt nervous approaching the projectionist. He had always had a strange feeling around him that he quickly identified as love. He recently told Susie about it after he rejected her due to not feeling the same before shyly explaining to her he didn't swing that way and already had fallen in love. He had a bad feeling about telling her afterwards, but he didn't know why. She was a friend. She would never tell anyone he wasn't into woman.
He was really nervous and wanted to just turn around and go away, but he couldn't just blow his chance to confess now. There was nobody else here, this was his chance. Weird, stressful things had happened lately and this might be the best time to confess.
Norman looked up from the projector he was repairing. "Oh, good morning, Sammy. I didn't know you would... be here this early. How... how can I help you? Is there another broken projector in the orchestra room?" the man asked. He didn't even smile at him, but sweated, probably due to all the work he had been doing.
"Um, no, I..." Oh god, what should he say? He hadn't thought this through at all. "S-susie has a great singing voice, doesn't she?" What kind of topic was that?! He normally wasn't like this, so why now? He was Sammy Lawrence, the music director of Joey Drew Studios for gods sake! He wanted to slap himself for this stupid behavior.
"Yes, she does, but I... um... I would prefer Allison over her, to be honest. Susie seems more like an amateur as a voice actress, even after all the years she has been voicing Alice Angel," Norman replied with a shrug, looking back at the projector, so his face wasn't visible anymore. "I've... uh... heard some rumors that Mister Drew wants to replace her with Allison... is that... is that true?" Was there even a chance Norman liked him the way Sammy did? Sammy had heard him saying to the other musicians that he was weird after he had been in his secret sanctuary for another time.
"Y-yes, Joey has considered it since he has heard Allison's singing voice the first time... but what I wanted to ask you was..." He hemmed and blushed a little, very uncomfortable with the situation, but still trying to say what he wanted to. "I...uh... would you... maybe...?"
"I'm sorry, Sammy, but I can't help you... I-I have to report to Mister Drew that I have repaired these projectors and that they c-can be used again now. Have a nice day." And with that, the projectionist left, avoiding eye contact with the musician He probably thought Sammy was weird. Sighing, the music director went back to his department.
"Norman..." Sammy muttered, finally remembering the name of the love of his life. He probably would have blushed, thinking about him, if he was still a human being. Sadly, he wasn't anymore. It was all the ink machine's fault. Joey's fault. That bastard! He would kill him when he got ahold of him. He was the reason they were all monsters! He needed to get to Henry and help him out of this hell so he could kick Joey's ass.
These memories... they were so many of them... Susie confessed to him, he rejected her, he tried telling Norman about his feelings and failed miserably, Susie started dating Joey... it hurt! All these emotions were way too much for him! So many things that were obvious about Joey's behavior now, so many ink creatures he recognized.
He moaned in pain, remembering all of this, rubbed his head, and decided to start searching for these hearts the angel had wanted him to bring her, so he could distract himself from those painful memories, but there was a weird sound that came from behind him. It sounded like the buzzing of one of the projectors. He wheeled around, only to look at something he had never seen before. Even though the creature's body was completely made of ink, its head was replaced by a big projector and wires were attached to it. There was even a reel stuck in its shoulder.
It seemed to be looking at him in curiosity, silently absorbing every small movement he made. The light that came out of the projector blinded the music director, but he kept on staring at the creature. It seemed so oddly familiar... why?
It approached him, but it stopped only a few meters away from him when it saw him flinching from it. The creature actually seemed... sad about it. Did it know him? He wasn't sure if he had ever met the worker who was stuck as a ink creature with a projector stuck on its head. How did it even recognize him in the first place?
"Did we... know each other?" he asked quietly. The other ink creature slowly nodded. "Were we close?" It replied by shaking its head. He didn't know what to respond. Was it that lonely and afraid that it would just reach for any person that came there, no matter if they were friends or not?
"I'm sorry, I thought you would hurt me... but you have to admit you look really intimidating," Sammy muttered. "And someone I trusted deeply tried to kill me before... I hoped they would free me... I was a bit insane at that time... heh, that recording somehow snapped me out of my insanity."
It replied with a shrill screech that came out of its speaker, and the musician jumped at the sound of it. It cocked its projector head in amusement and he just knew it was laughing about him inside.
"Very funny," he huffed, "very very funny." A sigh escaped his lip, before he started chuckling a little. "You remind me a bit of Norman. He enjoyed scaring others as well, and tried to scare me more than once. I found it rather amusing that he thought he could do that, I always knew when he was there." When the ink creature made a sound that he assumed was meant to be confused he added, "Norman was the projectionist here. I don't know if you met him. Not many people understood him well because they thought he was a little intimidating. I wish we would have been closer."
It pointed at the recording, and looked at him. "Yes, that's his." It pointed at itself. "Huh? I'm sorry, but what do you mean with that? Are you-?" He was suddenly overcome by the realization what the other was trying to say, who they were. "N- norman...?" This couldn't be! This could never be true!
It nodded, looking at him in expectation. Sammy didn't know what to say or do. How could he even react to that? "Who... who did this to you...? No, let me guess, it was Joey, wasn't it? If I will meet that jerk ever again I will-!"
He felt that Norman wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a hug. What is happening? Why is he hugging me? Is he trying to calm me down or is he-? "I love you." It was actually kinda funny how he could simply say that after not being able to do so the hundred other times he could have. Sammy didn't even intended to say that, it just happened. Did he regret saying it? No, but he wished he could have done it earlier. Before the studio became something similar to hell. Before everyone turned into ink creatures and went completely crazy.
The projectionist hugged him even more tightly than he already did, and a short screech came out of the speaker. "Is that a 'I love you, too'?" Sammy asked in a hopeful tone, and when the other one nodded, he was speechless for a moment. He...loves me, too? He actually loves me?! I... how?
A smile plastered on his face, and he kissed the projectionist on the projector. It was a little weird, but in a situation like this.... what wasn't?
"I really wish I would have said that earlier," he sighed. "Oh, and by the way, I have seen Henry around here. Seems like Joey sent him back for whatever reason. Maybe we should go up and try to help him."