Art Credit: Luna on DeviantArt
The whisper behind you was so close and fierce it sent a jolt throughout you and caused you to whip around in immediate fear. The voice you heard hinted familiarity, but the form in front of you definitely didn't.
He was...an inky man. That was the best way you could describe it. The skin he had was either coated or purely made of ink, but the shaping was human, male, and especially toned too, you noticed. The only thing he had on was a pair of overalls splattered with ink, unless you counted the shoes he had on of course.
Overalls. And the smooth voice. Someone had a voice like that who wore a different pair of overalls nearly every day.
Sammy. Samuel Lawrence.
Looking at Sammy again, you could see thick strands of ink arranged together on the top of his head to form hair. Messy hair like when he was human but hidden behind a mask displaying the cartoon head of Bendy. Sammy was hiding behind the face of the little devil himself.
What the mask DIDN'T hide was how angry and scornful he looked. You could see how his mouth- which had dangerously sharp teeth- twisted across his face.
"Must I repeat myself?! Do not. Play that song." Sammy shook his head and his ink hair swayed as he glared at his own sheet music like he was contemplating ripping it apart. He didn't. "Tch, no matter. It won't be a problem in a moment."
Adrenaline danced its way into your heart once you saw him pull out an axe and hold it right at your throat, along with using his free hand to pin your arm to the piano. Sour notes on the keys hit as he leaned in. You quickly forced your own words out.
"Sammy! Sammy... Sammy, wait. It's Y/N. Remember? Do you remember? I'm here to see what happened to Henry and bring him back... along with you now..."
Sammy gave a rueful smile with a sigh that wasn't at all comforting. He let you go only for a second but quickly grabbed your hands again while holding the axe and taking you down the hallways to whatever destination he had for you.
The halls you didn't pay attention to earlier, Y/N. Do the messages feel familiar?
"He will set us free"
"Above all, He is greater than any angel"
"I will sing your name"
It clicked in disturbingly quick time: Sammy was worshipping Bendy. Or whatever demon had been on the first floor, which was most likely both. It was like you'd missed the main act of a horror story but came in time to still be haunted by it. BENDY was haunting the studio, and Sammy was treating him like a god, you just knew it. And it seemed that he forgot much of his memory along with his sanity.
You finally looked up to see that he had brought you across the second floor to... your old department. "Story" as it had been called, and where the old cartoon episodes were written. The slightest smile went across you when you saw Dot's desk but trailed off when you saw the ink message above it.
"Where?"
And there, above YOUR desk...
"They left us"
"You clearly haven't been paying close attention to the messages left by my lord and the other ink souls left on the first floor," Sammy hissed, "so I'll make your human eyes see this. Oh yes, I remember both you and Henry Y/N, I remember well enough to know that you left us, as the words say."
I should struggle. I should run.
...I don't want to run from him.
"Sammy, I know it's not an excuse but Henry was really the only reason I was still there at that point. You should know as well as I that the work conditions were terrible."
Because even if he forgot the experience, the feeling from it stains.
"Oh yes, little sheep. And I'm sure you found a better job after you, Henry, and the other workers sent Joey into a rage by leaving. You both were the leaders of your departments, essential to us. Did you?"
"..."
No.
You hadn't. Through the rest of the Great Depression you struggled greatly to earn money, and you really only became a successful author afterward even with the support of Henry and Linda. Your dream of voice acting and singing only came to life after your books became radio shows since you used your publicity there to earn yourself a place showing your vocal talents. For a few years, you almost thought leaving the studio was a mistake.
"I thought not," Sammy scoffed. He pulled away once more, and this time you did run from the urge of the danger you were in, although once again he caught you. You could've sworn you saw the flash of glowing yellow eyes past his mask in the ferocity that overtook him again. There the axe was, right by your flesh and almost killing you-
"But don't you also remember the other times we all had in the studio?" You closed your eyes and tried to slow the lightning pace of your breathing.
"I... do, yes. Reading the writing for the episodes often helped me with my music, especially... yours. They use similar ideas, writing and music. Poetry is like a song written in word, and a story is a symphony..."
His tone and posture hardened back coldly.
So he kept his memory after all but lost his path and senses. Maybe I can help him gain it back on my search for Henry. Maybe.
"But," the masked man continued, "just because I recall doesn't mean I'll listen. You'll be a pleasing sacrifice for my lord, a pleasing redemption for me. And because of the effects last time, I must make this quick. Sleep well my sheep, may the ink demon show his everlasting kindness- "
"SAMMY! Sammy, stop! Do you at least know who you used to be then?! Would you do this? Do you, now, want this?!"
I don't want to die. But even more than that, I don't want him to go this far and lose himself more.
He looked at you for a moment. "Do I want to kill you? Truthfully... I don't, sheep."
"That's what the music director I knew would think." A small smile came to you along with the tiniest dose of relief. He didn't want to do what he was doing. And even though you didn't personally know who he was back then, you knew him better than the inky man did now.
"You knew him?" Sammy echoed your thoughts. It made you wince once you realized the both of you were referring to the past Sammy and the present Sammy as two different people.
"I did, yes. You were different when the studio was still alive, but you're showing the same humanity now."
By not killing me. I hope. I wonder how Linda would handle this. And he mentioned a "last time"; did Henry go through the same thing?
"I wouldn't say that, but I shall spare you if you tell me about him." He pulled away the axe from you and lowered it to his side, pulling away from you too and making his way down the candle-lit halls. You let out a relieved sigh and appreciated that you were alive for a moment before carrying on.
I wonder what Dot would think of that whole scene back there. It's the kind of thing she used to struggle writing with, but now... she just might be experienced with horror if this all happened after I left.
Sammy continued to walk ahead although he slightly slowed his pace for you to catch up. You started to make conversation about his past self per his request, noting how he respectfully dipped his head whenever you both passed a Bendy cutout.
"Where did you want me to start?"
"My appearance, sheep."
"You told me you remembered though. Everything before you became ink..." It was honestly surprising to you that he didn't know what he looked like.
"Most of what I remember is feeling, not thought. I remember being proud and happy about my appearance, and others being impressed with it, but I don't recall what it actually was."
"Well..." you felt a faint blush form on your face. "You had messy but really nice blond hair. There were some dirty blond strands mixed in too, so it looked like a cool blend of color."
Why am I transforming into my younger self who had a crush on him and revealing to the preset and insane Sammy that I thought he was handsome?! What am I even thinking...?!
You found Sammy looking at you rather intensely while lightly touching the edges of his mask. "What about my eyes?" he asked.
"Blue. Gray-blue with a little bit of green."
The happy sigh and smile you saw appear on his face from hearing this bought a hint of sadness to your face. He truly lost so much if he was this elated over only hearing how he used to look. It must've been everything to him if he was willing to spare you for it.
"Thank you, kind sheep. You have reminded me of the goal I'm striving for."
"To get your body back you mean?"
"There would be no other! Once I have proved myself and pleased my lord enough I will be able to gain it back! And feel the heaven you must feel of not hearing the screams of ink, the pull back... I now remember, yes."
Screams, pull?
You glanced at the surrounding shrines. "By pleasing... Bendy... but he isn't here..."
Is he?
The inky man laughed to himself, long and hard, with a veil of chaos over it. It didn't fail to send shivers through you.
"Oh, the ink demon is alive and thriving and is very much whom you refer to. But I won't speak His true name. I used to write so many songs for Him. Now I make them all in my mind, but I do miss the old songs I made..."
"You did write some pretty amazing music," you smiled gently. The ink on your wrists from his previous grip was coming off with great difficulty. "I always enjoyed it, even if I wasn't always there to hear it."
"Tell me about them."
"Well... Hellfire Follies was always a favorite of mine. It had a unique feel to it. And Thinking of You Again was special to Susie... and me. But let me ask you something this time."
Your eyes looked into his mask in what you hoped was a suitable stare. "What was so wrong about the song I was playing? The Lighter Side of Hell? It was different from what I would expect, but it was still beautiful, and it was still yours."
I still kept copies of my writing... even if some of the work wasn't as good as I wanted, I still appreciate it. It was my effort, all of our effort even, thinking about it.
Now your eyes widened, looking in somewhat guilty surprise as Sammy winced. He visibly shuddered at the question. Bendy cutouts still grinned from the edge of your vision.
"Well, since you'll keep asking, I'll provide you with an answer. Be aware that it isn't a happy one."
"...Thank you."
He nodded silently and continued down the halls, walking ahead of you by a few feet and turning corners while you followed, still feeling bad that your curiosity had sent him in a silent mood. After a couple more rounds of thought, you stopped following once you both reached a hall with an organ taking up space at the end of it. You noticed papers resting on the rim of it, along with some more copies of music. Sammy moved to the back of the messy pile and pulled out another copy of The Lighter Side of Hell.. along with a letter. Sammy handed it to you while looking away and pressing his fingers to his mask, right where Bendy's pie-cut eyes were.
You read it.
"Jack,
As you know we've been good friends for quite some time in this hellhole of a studio, and I'm not one to hide things from those I care about. This includes what I've been hiding now. I fear I'm going insane. No, I KNOW I am. That ink you caught me drinking... it wasn't the first bottle I had. When those pipes burst and the ink entered my system, I needed more. So I pushed on, for quite some time, and consumed more. I feel like I'm becoming that ink.
I want you to protect the songs for me, Jack. As much as I've joked before that your lyrics are just icing on the cake, we both made many of the pieces together. I value them as much as our friendship, and I don't want them to be tainted by... whatever I may become.
Drew won't give you time to see me. He'll hardly give you the time to see anyone. But if you find Susie, tell her I'm sorry. Above all, I advise that you take our own awards and music and leave. Please remember me for the music director I always was, and have one last song from me. I'm calling it "The Lighter Side of Hell."
As silly as it sounds, it's a song of hope to me. Maybe that same hope will fall onto you.
-Samuel James Lawrence"
A tear fell onto the scribbled handwriting.
You wiped your eyes, "Did Jack manage to get this and read it?"
"Yes."
"...Did he make it out?"
"...No, he didn't."
"..."
He was always a good person. And it's no wonder Sammy acted so aggressively towards me playing it while he could hear, it turned into a song of false hope instead of hope for him. It reminded him of something both he and those he cared about couldn't have.
"But," Sammy murmured, "he stayed by me when we changed. Truly the loyal friend I know." He took the letter and music from your stiff hands and set it back on the organ. "Thanks, Johnny." He smiled lightly. You looked at him in slightly disturbed curiosity.
"Johnny? Is someone INSIDE the organ?!"
"Oh heavens no," he laughed, "the name of the organ is Johnny."
"...You name your instruments."
Despite the deadpan and unimpressed expression on your face he still looked proud of himself.
"Indeed I do!"
"What the actual... who does that?!"
Although you couldn't fully see it, the proud smile and closed eyes on his face shifted to an offended expression.
"Me! They're all very special to me, especially Sam! Finest banjo in all of New York, if not the northern United States!"
You couldn't help but laugh even though you were shaking in horror and sadness only moments earlier. "You even- you even named your banjo after yourself, your favorite instrument...!"
You could only assume that he was blushing (somehow) as you laughed. You continued to follow him even as he walked away quickly and muttered to himself.
Until you stopped. Your heart practically stopped.
Sickness washed you inside and out like a sticky and thick ink as you gazed upon a dead Boris.