The Pony In The Inkwell

Pinkie came awake to a strange taste in her mouth. Opening her eyes, she saw that her tongue was on the wooden floor. Pulling it back in, she looked around.

She was in another hall in the studio. However, the yellowed walls had lightened to a whitish color. Every so often the surroundings would flicker like the screens in Bendy’s home would.

A click caught her attention. A door at the end of the hallway was opening, revealing a white light. A man walked out of the light, holding a piece of paper. As the door closed, he spoke.

“Alright Joey, I’m here. Let’s see what you wanted me to find,” he said, before walking down the hallway and through Pinkie Pie.

“Hey!” she cried, running after him. “Why did you do that? That was pretty rude!”

She would have said more, but she stopped as black letters formed in midair. Together, they spelled out WHO ARE YOU?

“I am Pinkie Pie!” the pink pony said. “Who are you?”

The letters blurred into illegibility before reforming. WE ARE BERTRUMSHAWNLARRYXANDERGRANTSTANLACEYJEREMYPERCYBUDDYDOTMIKETANYAMARTYWALTERNORMANTHEMEATLYJOEYWALLYHENRYELMERALLISONTHOMASMYTHRILMOTHSAMMYJACKMUR-

MEMORY. WE ARE MEMORY.

“Nice to meet ya!” Pinkie said. “Where are we?”

The words blurred, then formed into new words. WE ARE IN MEMORIES. MEMORIES OF THINGS PAST AND YET TO COME.

“Who was that guy?”

WHAT IS YET TO COME. WHAT HAS COME BEFORE.

“Where did he go?” Pinkie asked, trotting down the hallway.

MEMORIES BLUR IN HERE, DEEDS OF PAST AND FUTURE MIXING TOGETHER.

“Are you the guys writing on the walls?” Pinkie asked.

PARTIALLY.

Pinkie would have asked another question, but she and the words had entered another room. Another man was sitting at a table, holding a voice box. After a moment, he clicked it on.

“I have seen many a strange thing during my stay at Joey Drew Studios,” he said, as the words NORMAN POLK wrote themselves above his head. “A cartoon wolf come to life, a beast regaining his sense of self, Franks showing up to work on time. But what I saw today…” He trailed off as the machine ran. “I know Joey has some strange friends,” he finally continued. “But this friend Hill has brought in… something about him seems just wrong. Add in the fact that he’s always wearing that black hat… maybe it’s time I should think about retirement. Rumor has it that the studio’s not going to last for much longer.”

The man then stood up and walked away, fading into thin air. “Who was he?” Pinkie asked.

WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE, the words read. EVENTS IN HERE DO NOT ALWAYS FOLLOW A LINEAR PROGRESSION.

Pinkie had reached the elevator by now. Jumping up, she began pawing at the controls, but she failed to activate them. She was about to leave, when she was joined by two other people. Words formed over them, JOEY DREW over the man and SUSIE CAMPBELL over the woman. Joey pressed the button calling the elevator before speaking to Susie.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Susie. I hope that voicing Bendy is working out for you.”

“It’s going great,” Susie answered. “But I don’t think that you called me down here to talk about that.”

“You’re right,” Joey sighed. “I’m going to cut to the chase here. One of my long-term projects is to bring our characters to life. Literally! I want people to be able to meet them, spend an afternoon with ‘em, be able to shake their hand! We already had one success; you’ve met him.”

“I have…? Wait, Mr. Lupin isn’t wearing a mask?”

“Of course not! Why would I force one of my employees to wear such a ridiculous outfit? Of course, he wasn’t the first one.”

“So, do you want my help to make a perfect Alice Angel?” Susie asked, trepidation showing on her face.

“No,” Joey said as the elevator opened. “I actually want your help regarding our first experiment.” Whatever he was about to say next was cut off as the doors closed.

“Who was that guy?” Pinkie asked, trotting down the hallway.

THE CREATOR THE TRAITOR!

HE DID HIS BEST-

HE LEFT US! HE LIED TO US!

he can’t save us

The writing was so small, it was barely legible. Pinkie could almost sense the sadness coming off the words. “How can you be saved?” she asked.

The words didn’t answer, as Pinkie entered another room. Another man was inside, this one with a cap pulled over his eyes. The words spelled out WALLY FRANKS over his head as he turned on a voice box and began speaking.

“So, the Gent guy who works on the Ink Machine went on his honeymoon, leaving me as the only guy who has the slightest idea how this honkin’ huge thing works! Anyway, I was cleaning it a while then I had to… rest my eyes and when I got up, I knocked this bit off!” he said, waving around a small machine part. “Thing was running fine despite missin’ this, so I guess it didn’t need a three-eighths Gripley. If it did, then I’m outta here!”

HE STOPPED HIM. PARTIALLY the words said as Wally left.

Pinkie Pie ran after the man, but she lost sight of him as she entered the next room, which was full of books. The only one inside the room was someone who looked like Boris. However, this one had a tail and a large bush of hair sticking up on his head. He was sitting in a chair at one of the desks in the middle of the room holding his head in his hands.

Finally, he raised his head and picked up one of the voice boxes in front of him. Turning it on, he spoke into it.

“It is as I feared. The shifter has survived the accident and is still alive and moving. Almost everyone else is insane or have lost their minds. My… collaborator is doing everything he can, but there is little he can do from the outside.

“I do have good news. I have found a way to stop the traitor once and for all. Downside, I cannot do it by myself. And I think that he’s onto me.

“I do have another spell though. Problem is, I think there will be a great personal cost to me. Just in case the worst happens, I have split up my research into six parts and hidden it throughout the studio. Put together, it should tell you how to stop him. To find the first part, you must feed Johnny.”

The wolf turned off the tape, put it into the bookshelf, and walked away.

Pinkie was about to speak, when everything started swirling around. “What’s going on?” she asked.

THE MONSTER…

The world steadied and reformed. Pinkie was now standing on a railing overhead a large vat of ink. Just in front of her was the woman that was Susie Campbell lying on the ground. In front of her facing Pinkie was Bendy.

Yet it was not. This Bendy was different. He was larger, shaped more like a man than a cartoon. His clawed hands had five fingers, and his feet had three clawed toes. His bowtie was stiff unlike Bendy’s, and his one visible eye was like Susie’s. The horns were longer and sharper, and his teeth were jagged. A barbed tail swung behind him.

“I’m sorry, Miss Campbell,” the voice from the tape with the smudged name said, coming from the twisted version of Bendy. “I guess that your death will have to happen sooner than later.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” the past version of Susie asked.

“Oh, you’ll make a perfect Alice Angel,” the twisted version of Bendy said, picking her up by the front of her dress.

“SUsiE!” a familiar voice cried, and Bendy tackled Not-Bendy, making him drop the woman in his hand.

“You!” growled Not-Bendy. “What is a monster like you doing here?”

“He’s not a monster!” Susie cried, swinging a wrench at the twisted one’s head.

“Did I say you could speak!” Not-Bendy snarled, slapping the woman aside and over the railing into the ink below.

“NooOOoo!” Bendy cried, diving after her.

Not-Bendy flicked a speck of dust off his shoulder. “Pathetic,” he said as he walked down the walkway.

But he stopped and turned around, the white parts of his body turning to resemble the yellow brown tones of the studio.

“Well, he said, grinning wider. “What do we have here?”

NO!

A large hand formed out of the hallway.

YOU SHALL NOT HAVE HER!

With the flick of a finger, the fake Bendy was sent flying down the cavern. The hand then scooped up Pinkie and shot upward.

In a large bay where a pair of barges sat, a clenched fist broke the surface. Opening it revealed a pink pony sitting on the palm.

Pinkie Pie hopped off onto the shore, then turned around and wave at the hand. “Thank you!” she cried.

The hand waved back and sank beneath the ink.