Henry dragged himself out of yet another ink pond. He'd fallen, again, and lost his axe in the ink.
"Henry?" called Allison from somewhere above him.
"I'm okay!" Henry called back, testing a few steps onto the shore. "Leg hurts but I'll be fine."
Allison groaned anxiously, "Okay, just be careful! You don't know what you'll find down there!"
Henry smiled at her motherly concern. In some ways, she reminded him of-.... Henry shook his head. Focus. Press on. Find whatever "it" is that's "in the vault." Henry thought whoever left the messages could have been a bit more specific.
The locked door to the film vault connected to something in the Administration offices. Henry grumbled at the puzzle nature of the studio and limped his way down the halls.
It was far too quiet. Even the fading ink puddles were still and silent. Inky footprints trailed down the hall, only diverted a pace or two by the puddles. An axe cut split through the wall. Now on edge, Henry followed the footprints through smashed-open doors and past axe-marred walls. He froze when he heard a resounding crash followed by a layered scream of outrage.
Henry heard a warped, but familiar voice yelling at someone, though the words didn't make sense, just jumbled syllables. He peeked around a corner and found where the footprints ended: Joey Drew's office. Henry slipped to the wall and tiptoed toward the smashed and ink-splattered door. He paused at the edge, not hearing anything within but dripping ink and labored breathing.
Balancing his weight on his good leg lest he need to run, Henry peered into the room.
His jaw dropped.
Nothing in the office was intact. The desk and chairs were hacked to splinters, the cabinets smashed beyond recognition, objects were crushed underfoot, posters torn down, shredded, and soaked through with ink. Broken pipes gurgled and spewed thick ink onto the walls and ceiling. The massive Studio sign on the back wall had been rent apart bolt by bolt, the giant reels thoroughly shattered with the middle one somehow having been driven halfway through the wall.
In the midst of it all stood Sammy. Both fists gripped stained axes. His shoulders rose and fell with every heavy breath, and ink ran like sweat down his arms. One foot was planted on a sign with Joey's name. "This..." the inkling declared, "this is where you belong. Under the heel of the slave you left to die."
Deciding now was probably not a good time to try and talk some sense into Sammy, Henry shifted to turn and leave. Unfortunately, his hand caught on a loose shard of wood and sent it clattering. Henry saw Sammy turn, felt wind past his face, then heard an axe bury itself in the wall behind him. Henry snapped out of his shock once Sammy seized the front of his shirt and dragged him into the room.
"I thought if our lord killed you himself, he would free us," Sammy snarled, "But I now see what truly must be done." He threw Henry down face-first and lifted the axe over his head, "I must kill you myself and plunge your soul into the abyss of the Machine! Then our lord will arise and cleanse this world of its unbelievers!"
Henry twisted and lifted his hands to catch the downward swing of the axe. He gasped with the effort to keep the blade from piercing his body. "Sammy, please! Wake up! You said my name, I know you remember me! You have to remember yourself!"
Sammy yanked the axe away and growled, the sound harsh and inhuman. His body swayed and his head pitched back and forth as he fought within himself. Henry took the chance to regain his feet, all the while holding out a placating hand. "Sammy, it's okay. Whatever is happening, I won't leave you to fight it alone."
Sammy's free hand tore at his face, "You! You're the one with the forbidden name! You already left once, he left us to die! I don't want it to happen again!"
A twinge of guilt plucked through Henry's chest. "I know I left, and I know how Joey thought I betrayed him-"
"BETRAYAL! TREACHERY AND BETRAYAL!" Sammy lurched forward with the axe, then abruptly stopped. "N-NO! You never-... H-H-... The name is forbidden, get-... get back. Stay where you are."
Henry began to figure that two minds were fighting for one body. "Fight back, Sammy! Whatever's controlling you has no right to!"
"SILENCE, SHEEP!" the Prophet roared.
Henry ignored it, "Sammy Lawrence, I know you can hear me, and I know you want freedom!"
The Prophet lunged and forced Henry to jump out of the way, "No, no, NO! Stop helping him! Don't give him hope!"
Henry smiled, now knowing exactly what to do. He stood tall and faced his old friend. "Sammy. You have hope. You have hope to break this cycle of death, to break free, to see the sky again."
The inkling paused. "The... sky?"
"Yeah! You love stargazing, remember?"
Sammy moaned and panted, his hands shaking on the axe. "I don't... stars... I like... stars?" He then snarled and grabbed Henry, throwing him toward the door, "Just leave! Leave me be! I don't need you!"
"The warping tone in your voice says otherwise." Henry stood up again, facing Sammy with his back to the door. "I left once without explanation or proper goodbye, without truly warning you about Joey. But I'm not doing that again." Henry held his hand out to Sammy, "The door's open, my friend. And I'm not leaving without bringing you through it."
The Prophet snarled, "I could cut you down and walk over your corpse out that door."
"That's not my point and you know it."
The Prophet's grip readjusted on the axe. "You're willing to stand there and let me kill you when you could easily walk out of here with your life?"
Henry thought about that. Yes, he could leave with his life, but he'd be going back on his word. And that... that might just break Sammy for good. Henry lifted his chin, "I am. Because I believe Sammy has the strength to defeat whatever you are and take control of himself again."
"YOU'RE WRONG!" the Prophet shrieked, lifting the axe, "HE IS GONE! PURGED! NOTHING REMAINS!"
"I'm not leaving without him," Henry declared.
"THEN DIE, HERETIC!!!" The Prophet charged with the axe aimed at Henry's chest. Henry shut his eyes-
Now, now, we can't be having that. Still, destroying the Prophet is quite an... intriguing prospect. In any case, he has become useless to me.
Very well, Samuel. I shall allow this. After all, we need to keep things interesting, don't we? Yes, we do.
The world stuttered.
"THEN DIE, HERETIC!!!" The Prophet charged with the axe aimed at Henry's chest. Henry shut his eyes and flinched, but the blow never came. He opened his eyes to see the blade a hair's breadth from his chest. Henry glanced up to the blank head, "Sammy?"
The inky body trembled, "I-... oh, stars." Sammy dropped the axe and fell to his knees, weeping.
Henry knelt down and laid a hand on Sammy's shoulder, "Sammy? Sammy, talk to me. It's okay now, you-"
"No! It's not okay! Look at me, Henry!" Sammy cried, "I'm a monster! The freakish product of a twisted mind. I let Joey make me his slave. I let the Prophet take my mind. I killed for their whims, I almost killed you! I-I've been trapped in this... this shell, I-... I can't remember the last time I felt happy or safe, I-" his voice began to break, "I just... I.... want..."
"Want what?" Henry gently prompted.
Sammy's head drooped as a whimper escaped his throat. "I just.... I want to go home."
Henry shifted to sit cross-legged on the floor. Sammy didn't move from his position, sitting heavily on his knees, his hands curled on the floor and head hung low.
"Y-you don't know.... what it's like," Sammy shuddered, "You don't know what it's like to be like this. It's in my head. It's all a curse. You don't know-...."
Henry sighed sadly. "You're right. I don't know. But you can tell me. You don't have to bear this alone anymore."
Sammy relaxed, sitting back on his heels. "N-no. Henry. You don't want.... I don't want to burden you with-"
"You won't be doing that, Sammy," Henry asserted. Sammy's flinch made him lower his voice, "It's what friends are for."
"And.... we're friends."
It wasn't stated as a question, but Henry answered anyway. "Yes. We are. A bit of ink won't change that."
Sammy nodded slowly, but still let many seconds of silence pass before explaining.
"I-imagine your body imprisoned, locked away to never escape. Your senses are blacked out and replaced with a cold kind of awareness. You see nothing but the ink and feel nothing but its chill. As you dare to think of hope, it's ripped away from you."
Sammy sighed and took a few breaths before continuing, his voice small and exhausted. "I'm tired of being locked away. I'm tired of being trapped. I'm sick of what I've become. It's like I'm stuck in a loop, a trance I can't snap out of. Every time I find light, the ink blots it out again. I only cared about that demon and its false hope of salvation. I killed-" his voice hitched. "I shouldn't have trusted Joey. I should have realized something was happening. I should have known. I should have known. I-!"
Sammy found himself in a hug. "W-...what are you doing, Henry?"
"I'm hugging my friend, you idiot."
"Heh. Does.... that make me the friend or the idiot?"
"C'mon, Sammy. You know you've always been both."
Sammy chuckled. He returned the hug and began to laugh. Finally, after so long, he was himself again! The strings had been cut, the door blown open; he was no longer a slave. He buried his face into Henry's shoulder and repeated his thanks over and over. Years of pain and detachment and fighting for his sanity, finally over.
Henry felt Sammy shudder. "Hey, you're not crying, are you?"
"N-no. ... Yes. ... Are you?"
"Maybe." He definitely was. Henry couldn't explain it, but he had this overwhelming feeling that something changed. Though, he couldn't explain what. Or how. Or why it was such a big deal.
Sammy finally pulled away from Henry, chuckling weakly and rubbing where his eyes ought to be.
"You good for now?" Henry asked.
Sammy nodded and stood, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. I feel... awake. Like escaping a bad dream."
Henry smiled, "It's good to have you back."
"Heh. So, uh, what now?"
"Ah!" Henry beckoned Sammy toward the door, "We need to get into the film vault. Supposedly there's something in there that will defeat the Ink Demon."
With the duo's combined efforts, they gathered the pipes quickly and unlocked the door. They hesitated upon seeing the state of the vault itself.
"I have faith in vault doors," Sammy commented, "and I'm pretty sure none of them just fall off their hinge."
Henry carefully stepped inside, avoiding the congealing ink. "The Demon's been here. It might know what we're after. Help me look around."
Sammy shrugged and started flipping open boxes, occasionally tossing around reels or radios. "What exactly is it we're looking for?"
"Some special reel, I guess."
"You-! You guess?" Sammy turned sharply, "You mean you came all this way with no plan?"
Henry shrugged, "Well the hidden messages said 'it' was 'in the vault'! Never actually said what 'it' was!"
"Ughh..." Sammy clapped a hand to his face, "Stein, it is a marvel to me you haven't died yet."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," snarked Henry. He flipped open another box, one full of fresh ink. "Hey."
"Find it?"
"I think I found the box it was in."
Sammy moved toward Henry, "So the Demon alr-AHH!!!"
Sammy's scream of pain made Henry swing around. Sammy was bent over, one hand limp, the other reaching for the dagger embedded in his shoulder. Beyond him, Allison and Tom came running, weapons poised for the kill. Henry rushed to put himself between them and Sammy and held his arms out. "Stop!"
Allison stopped, but Tom shouldered past Henry and pounced on Sammy. The ferocious wolf toon seized Sammy's throat with one hand, using the other to tear out the dagger and rear back to plunge it into Sammy's heart. Henry grabbed Tom's raised arm, "Tom, stop! He's on our side!"
Tom snarled and elbowed Henry in the chest, sending the man sprawling.
The few extra seconds allowed Sammy to punch Tom across the jaw, buying time for Henry to again grab Tom's arm. "Tom! Let him go!"
The wolf bared his teeth and threatened to bite Henry. Henry's eyes sparked, "I said-" his grip tightened and something boiled under his fingertips, "-let him go!" Henry threw Tom bodily to the floor. The Boris yelped and clutched at his arm, staring wide-eyed at the fading gold burns on his skin.
Allison called Tom's name and crouched at his side. She then turned to Henry, "What are you doing? We were trying to save you from him!"
Henry's hands and jaw remained tense, "And I was trying to tell you that he's not a threat! Whatever was controlling him is gone now, and he wants to help."
Allison and Tom watched warily as Henry helped Sammy to his feet.
"You okay?" Henry asked Sammy.
"I'll be fine. Ink seals up."
Henry then turned to Tom and offered a hand, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I shouldn't have done that."
Tom icily glanced between Henry and Sammy, then huffed a sigh through his nose and took Henry's hand.
"Right then," Henry started, "Now that we're past trying to kill each other, it looks like the Demon has what we were after. Also-" he pointed at Allison, "-how did you get down here?"
The angel summoned a smirk and cocked hip, "It pays to carry a rope. You should try it. Far fewer twisted ankles."
Sammy rolled what he had of eyes. Tom growled at him. The inkling stepped farther behind Henry while Henry kept talking, "Anyway, if the Demon has what we need, then I need to go after it."
All three ink people straightened. "You want to go to his lair?" Allison asked.
"Have you got ink in your head?" exclaimed Sammy, "Henry, that is suicide!"
"It's the only place the trail leads," Henry countered.
Allison nodded, "Well, it's probably close by."
Sammy stammered, "Wait, hold up. You're seriously okay with this?"
"Does it look like we can stop him?" Allison asked with a raised eyebrow.
Sammy inhaled, then stopped. His lifted his hand and set it into a fist while he looked between Henry and Allison. "I-... you-..." His hand dropped with a huff, "Fine. But you're not getting rid of us to face that thing alone."
Henry chuckled, "Fair."
"Anyway," Allison continued, "We need to get through that door. But it won't be easy to open. I'll need three gears, a crowbar-"
"No." Henry swiped the air with his hands, "No more fetch quests, no more playing errand boy. I've had enough of that from your evil twin."
"Well, I'm not sure how else to-"
Tom marched right up to the door and smashed it open.
"... Aaand that's why he's the mechanic," muttered Sammy.
"Show off," Allison chuckled, patting Tom's shoulder as she slipped through the door. Sammy was glared and growled at as he passed. Henry took the lead and the quartet moved through the hallway before Henry suddenly stopped.
"Something wrong?" Allison asked.
"This... this looks like where I started."
Sammy's head tilted, "Meaning?"
"This hallway. That desk there, it was all upstairs where I first came into the studio. Where the machine was. Except... this is all laid out backwards."
"Deja-vu aside," Sammy interrupted, "Do you know where we're going?"
"Well..." Henry glanced around, noting a few things and trying to remember what he'd seen on the first floor. He caught his fist in his hand, "I bet his lair is where the Machine was on the first floor. We just gotta go there."
"If you say so," shrugged Sammy.
"I don't have any other ideas," Allison concurred.
Tom just gave a little huff and they started off.
The halls stretched to nowhere and back. Turns took them in circles. They doubled back more often then not. This might have been the first floor laid out backwards, but it was starting to feel like a hedge maze.
After thirty minutes of not really getting anywhere, Henry stopped. "We're lost," he declared.
Sammy facepalmed.
Henry grumbled and leaned against a wall, pressing his palms into his eyes. Allison sighed. "Henry? When was the last time you slept?"
Henry looked up, a wave of realization suddenly washing over him. How long had it been? Is that why he felt so bad? He slept in Allison and Tom's safehouse before they bailed on him... but... that had to have only been a few hours ago, right? Or, was it longer? There was the encounter with Sammy, that fall into the lower levels, the fight in the office.. "'M fine. We can keep going."
His body disagreed. As soon as he stepped away from the wall, the room lurched and his knees buckled. Cold arms caught under his chest and saved him from hitting the floor.
"Henry!" Sammy gasped, "Henry, you're shaking."
Henry just groaned pitifully.
"All right, no more arguments." Sammy scooped up Henry bridal style, "We're finding a nook and you're taking a nap."
Henry mumbled something about tanks and meds. Sammy found a secluded corner with a couple crates, Allison offered a few folded rags for a pillow. Tom waited until the two had situated Henry then quietly walked out. Allison said she and him would keep watch outside. Sammy just nodded and sat down, leaning against the crate at Henry's feet.
"Sammy?"
The ink man started a bit, "Uh, yes?"
"I'm sorry." Henry's voice sounded tired and hurt.
Sammy chuckled awkwardly, "F-for what?"
"Everything. The Machine, what happened to you, to this place. The demon was my creation. I never would have thought-"
"Shut up."
"What-"
"I said shut up." Sammy kept his voice low but firm, "This isn't on you, Henry. Yes the demon was your creation, but be honest, did you have a say in what Joey did with him? No. As soon as Bendy left your desk, Joey carried him off and shackled him in some dark corner to do his bidding. I spent most of my time in the music studio, but I could see from there that neither you nor Bendy were happy. The only one who was ever satisfied was Joey."
The ink man drew his knees up and dangled his arm over one leg. "Joey... changed after you left. It was subtle things at first, maybe not telling us details that led to minor annoyances, but then everything seemed to happen at once. The Machine, the theme park, the demon, the... rituals."
Henry muttered a swear.
"Yeah, it really was. But not once did anyone say it was on you."
Sammy sighed and thumped his head against the crate, "Honestly, it was probably a good thing you left. You missed all the..." he wiggled his fingers in the air, "evil... stuff. And now you're back in this crooked empire to save what little sanity remains. I tell ya', if you pull this off, I... er, are you even listening to me? ... Oh. Heh, old man passed right out."
Sammy shifted to sit cross-legged and settled his axe over his knees. "Sleep well, old friend," he muttered, "We got a lot of ink to bleach."