Chapters Idea 1: An Incomplete Monster
He ran down the darkened hallways, limping quickly through the ink. The creatures ahead of him fled from him or were sent back into the ink as he chased after his fleeing target. Finally, he caught up to it, grasping it in his mismatched arms. It struggled for a moment before going limp and returning to the ink. Finding nothing of note, he walked to the nearest wall and dissolved into a puddle of ink.
Reappearing inside of his sanctuary, he sat upon his throne and watched his exploits. The screens showed happier times, when things were simpler.
A reminder of things long lost.
But this shouldn’t be! He had fans, an audience who adored him! He had friends who loved him! He was… he was…
Incomplete.
He was missing something, a missing part of himself, a crucial piece of who he was.
That was why he kept walking the inky abyss, attacking everything came near, for one of them had to contain what he was missing. He did not dare to think what if that piece was forever gone, or what it would mean for him. He looked at the screens, watching through his blurry vision, trying to distract himself from the thoughts tearing away at his fragile mind-
Something fell on his head.
His train of thought derailed, he reached up and felt the object on his head. His hand encountered something he had never felt before. It was soft like the plush toys from the factory level but was warm like fresh ink from the machine that moved when he touched it. Finding a loose fold, he grabbed it and brought it in front of his face to take a closer look.
Something reached forward and wiped the ink off his face, allowing him to see clearly for the first time ever. He was holding a tiny pony by the nape of its neck. It had a poofy, cartoony mane and tail, with a design of three balloons on its hips. Its eyes were also strange, full circles with no visible cut. It also looked… strange, somehow standing out against everything else.
The pony watched him for a while and then spoke. “Hi there!” she said, not at all concerned about her position. “You look funny! Like a moving picture, or something from a page…”
This continued for some time as the pony kept talking. Finally he spoke, making an interjection. “WhO aRe YoU?” he asked, forcing the words out.
The pony wilted. “I’m nobody,” she said mournfully. “They didn’t love me anymore.”
His heart went out to her, her words striking a chord within him. He held her close, trying to do something he didn’t know how to. “i'M aLoNe ToO,” he said.
The pony perked up. “Not anymore!” she said, giving him a hug. “I’m here now!”
He chuckled. “yEs YoU aRe,” he said, the words flowing easier. “NoBoDy WiLl TaKe Us ApArT.”
The pony looked up at him. “Do you promise?” she asked.
He grinned wider. “i PrOmIsE,” he said.
The pony shook her head. “That’s not good enough,” she said. “Do a Pinkie Promise!”
He was confused. “wHaT’s A pInKiE pRoMiSe?” he asked.
“Like this! Cross my heart,” the pony said as she made an X over her torso.
“CrOsS mY HeArT,” he said, copying her motions.
“Hope to fly,” she continued, making the appropriate motions.
“hOpE tO fLy,” he parroted back, doing the same.
“Stick a cupcake in my eye!”
“StIcK a CuPcAkE… wAiT, wHaT?” he asked before his vision was halfway blocked by something the same… shade of the pony’s fur.
The pony giggled as his long tongue reached up and licked at the icing covering his eye. “tHaT wAs DeLiCiOuS!” he said breaking into a laugh. “aLmOsT aS gOoD aS bAcOn SoUp!”
The pony grinned almost as widely as him. “Glad you liked it!” she said.
Getting himself under control, he added, “I pInKiE pRoMiSe ThAt I wIlL nEvEr AbAnDoN yOu, LiTtLe PoNy.”
The pony cheered and hugged him. “We are going to be great friends!”
As the pony snuggled up to him, he added, “Do YoU hAvE a NaMe?”
The pony thought for a moment, putting a hoof to her mouth. “I’m… my name is Pinkie Pie but please call me Pinkie Pie!” she said. “What’s your name?”
He thought back and frowned. He had a name. It was one familiar, one he had seen so many times…
“i’M… bEnDy… yeah, that’s right… I’m Bendy the Dancing Demon!”
The two of them got to know each other for the next few hours, although it was more Pinkie Pie getting to know Bendy, as most of the past of the strangely shaded pony was unknown to her. They eventually ended up watching the cartoons that were playing from the projectors.
However, it got to the point where Pinkie Pie was yawning more than laughing at the antics of Bendy and his pals on the screen. The Ink Demon chuckled. “Looks like someone is ready for some shut-eye,” he said.
“No-oh I’m not sleepy,” Pinkie Pie said with a huge yawn.
“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Bendy said, standing up from his chair. “The cartoons will be here tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Pinkie said, followed by another yawn. After it had finished, she asked, “Daddy, what’s that one?”
Bendy looked towards where she was pointing. She was looking at a reel beside his chair, a reel that said ‘The End.’ “Nothing important,” he said quickly. Then the rest of her sentence registered. “What did you call me?” he asked.
“Daddy,” Pinkie replied. She then grew worried. “Did I do wrong?”
Bendy stood there for a moment, then hugged her tightly. “No,” he whispered, inky tears beginning to form. “You did good.”
“Yay!” Pinkie cried, returning the hug as the two of them left the room. “Night, Daddy.”
Bendy entered another room and set Pinkie down a pillow shaped like his head. “Goodnight, kiddo,” he said, ruffling her mane, truly smiling. He had a feeling that things were going to be better than they had ever had before.
He silently left the room, letting the pony sleep peacefully. If he had been paying more attention, he would have noticed that the tendrils of ink that had always followed him had vanished, as well as the ink that had continuously covered his face.
Idea 2: A Learning Father
Sitting on his chair, Bendy came to a realization.
He didn’t have a clue how to raise Pinkie Pie.
The only experience he had with children was when he had watched Mrs. Rosemary’s child, but that seemed to be years ago.
Besides, he seemed to remember the kid running him ragged.
He shook his head. “Enough woolgathering,” he said, enjoying the sound of his rediscovered voice. “There has to be somebody in this place who has some experience with kids.” Writing a quick note for Pinkie Pie, he placed it where she could find it and he dove into the wall.
Pinkie Pie woke up to a piece of paper taped to her head. Pulling it off, she read it.
Gone for a walk, be back soon. Stay put.
-Bendy
Of course, she didn’t understand all the words, as she was… too young? It hurt when she tried to think back that far. But she did manage to get the general message. However, being a curious pony, she didn’t stay on her pillow. She began exploring her new home.
Home was a bunch of rooms and corridors, with a bunch of glass boxes in the walls. Outside was a large cave, the building surrounded by a lake of black stuff, like the stuff her daddy was made out of.
However, it was long before she was bored again and began poking things. It wasn’t long before she hit a wall and a panel fell off.
Looking inside, she saw a dark space, which her mind connected to adventure. With a grin, she bounded into the vent.
Bendy walked through the halls, feeling like he was going in circles.
Turns out there wasn’t a lot of folks left in the studio who were willing to talk to him. And the only ones who were willing to get close to him were strange deformed copies of the Butcher Gang, which were even more mindless than usual.
Bendy was about to give up and return home when he got a feeling. An insistent, urgent feeling. It was the same feeling that led to him taking that reel, the same feeling that made him seek out his friends. Acting on that feeling had never steered him wrong before. So, he dove into the wall and went where feeling took him.
He reappeared in a large storage room. It was packed with shelves holding books, reels, and other things he couldn’t decipher the use of. On a shelf was a tape recorder with the name Tanya Stitch on it. ↅ THIS IS NEW.
Bendy picked up the recorder and hit the play button. “So, this has been my second month as Joey Drew’s secretary, and I’m convinced that he’s not all there. Last Friday, he canceled all his appointments for the next month, saying that he was going on vacation. But when I come in on Monday morning, he is already in his office. He also wanted Bendy’s voice actress to come in today.
“On the other hand, June is hosting her baby shower tomorrow. I’m so glad I already got her that parenting book in my desk. I don’t know when I would have found time to get it otherwise. All the more reason to find another job, I guess.”
The tape clicked off, and Bendy headed back to the Administration section where he began to root through the desk. Surprisingly, the book was in the top drawer. It was almost as if the secretary hadn’t been able to get it.
Shrugging and not questioning his luck, Bendy picked up the book and sat in the chair and began speed reading the first few chapters. However, he quickly grew bored, so he put the book somewhere behind his head and headed back to his home. However, before crossing the inky lake, he was struck by another thought. Pinkie hadn’t mentioned anything, but she hadn’t had anything to eat aside from that strangely shaded popcorn she had pulled out while they were watching cartoons. And he was pretty sure that she would need more nourishment than that.
A thought flickered through his mind. He stepped through the ink, arriving in one of the rooms in Bendyland. He ignored the Butcher Gang copies who ran away from him as he went down the corridor on the left. Walking into the room, he saw what he was looking for.
“Alright, let’s see,” he said, walking up to the incomplete Ink Maker. “I hope this is the right one… it is!” he proclaimed, holding up the wheel he had pried from the machine. on this wheel were various foodstuffs, which would be useful.
Tucking the wheel under his arm, he headed back to the Machine. “I hope Pinkie stayed out of trouble,” he mused before walking into the wall.
He missed the fingers of the Bendy animatronic moving slightly as he left. ↅ IT MOVED?
Pinkie Pie fell out of the pipe and into a barrel. Poking her head out, she looked at her new surroundings. She was in a room full of strange machines. There was also a lot of pictures on the wall with her new daddy on almost all of them. Climbing out of the barrel, she began exploring. ↅ WHAT ARE YOU?
Something immediately caught her eye, shining out against one of the thingies. Curious, she scampered over to it and picked it up. It was a piece of glass with lights strung around it. Holding it by the handle, Pinkie looked at it, but her attention was caught by a box beside it. ↅ SO THIS IS WHERE SHE FOUND IT.
Curious, Pinkie hit a button on the box and a voice came out of it. “So, I found out something interesting today. If you take one of the lightboxes on a stick and hold it up, you can see hidden messages through it. It's almost as if they are highlighted. You could probably use it to find tips when you are stuck. Keep on going, true believer!” ↅ EXCELSIOR!
Curious, Pinkie held the box up and looked through the lens. She could see even more words through the lens! This was so cool! Grinning, Pinkie started running through the studio, seeing what else she could find. ↅ YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.
However, she soon got tired of that, stuffing the glass into her mane. “That be better if I could read all the words,” she mused. ↅ WILL YOU BREAK THE CYCLE?
Tired of her adventure, Pinkie jumped back into the pipe and headed back home before she got into trouble. ↅ CAN YOU SET US FREE?
Idea 3: An Unperfect Angel
The wall rippled as Bendy stepped out of it. “Pinkie, I’m home!” he called.
Silence answered his greeting.
“Must still be sleeping,” he mused as he made his way to the room he had left her in. “Hey Pinkie, I’ve got some bacon soup, you have to try it!”
The pillow he had left her on was empty.
“Where did you go?”
He started searching the cavernous rooms of the ink machine, hoping that she might be simply hiding.
“Pinkie, stop hiding! This isn’t funny!”
He couldn’t find her anywhere.
“Pinkie?”
She was gone.
“PiNkIe PiE, wHeRe ArE yOu!?!”
Pinkie fell out of another pipe. “Gee, I’m lost,” she said.
She was in another place she had never seen before. This one was different from most of the other rooms she had been in. Instead of having images of her Daddy, it contained images of a different toon, the one that always wore a dress. ↅ TROUBLE…
Pinkie got up and noticed another voice box under a pile of those soft things that resembled the characters. Clearing them away, she held it up. This one had a word she could read, Susie . Curious, Pinkie hit the triangle on the box, and a new voice came out of it.
“I’m taking back every bad thing I said about Joey Drew. That opportunity he wanted to talk to me about? He wants me to voice Bendy! Apparently, he thought that my talent was being wasted on Alice, and that I would be perfect for voicing the main character.
“I will say this Mr. Drew. You sure know how to flatter a girl.”
“I had honestly forgotten about that tape.”
Pinkie whirled around. There was no one behind her. Spooked, she scrambled for the pipe, but something grabbed her tail. This new presence lifted her up, allowing her to see her captor.
It was someone she had never seen before. She looked like Alice from the screens, but there were slight differences. She was a foot shorter than Bendy and was dressed in a black dress with a white bow. Her limbs were pure black, and she had five fingers on each hand. A pair of horns peaked out of her inky black hair, and a halo was set crookedly in her head. The skin on her face was partially missing, exposing part of her jaw, and her left eye was a mass of ink. “What is a pony doing here?” she asked. “And a pink one at that?”
Pinkie Pie grinned. “Hi there!” she said. “I’m Pinkie Pie! Who are you?”
The character gapped. “A talking pink pony?” she asked.
Pinkie pouted. “It’s not a big deal,” she said. “I talk, you talk, Daddy talks.”
“And who’s your Daddy?” the character asked.
“Me.”
Susie (Alice! She was Alice Angel!) whirled around to see him looming over her. “AnD iF yOu KnEw WhAt’S gOoD fOr YoU, aNgEl, YoU’rE gOiNg To LeT tHe PoNy Go.”
“Daddy! You’re scaring her!”
Susie (Alice!) turned to look at Pinkie Pie. The pink (Pink! The first color she had seen in a long time!) pony had crossed her front legs and was pouting at the Ink Demon without a trace of fear.
Then what she said registered. “Daddy?” Susie repeated, incredulously.
“Yep!” Pinkie said, grinning despite being upside down. “Bendy’s my Daddy!”
Susie turned back to the Ink Demon. “You’re the father?” she asked, incredulously.
The imposing monster somehow stared back at her without eyes. “YeS,” he said non-pulsed. “iS tHaT a PrObLeM?”
Susie looked between the Demon and the pony. “Let’s start with the how!?” she exclaimed.
“lEt’S sTaRt WiTh PuTtInG pInKiE dOwN,” the monster rebuffed.
“Hey, I’m doing fine!” Pinkie said. “Although the room is starting to spin, could whoever’s doing that stop it?”
“… aS i WaS sAyInG…” the Ink Demon said.
Susie quickly set the pony on the ground. Once she was on all four hooves, she shook herself, and scampered into Bendy’s arms.
Wait, what? Susie blinked and looked at the Ink Demon again. When the pony had jumped into his arms, the ink that had been covering his face had been absorbed, revealing the smiling face of the studio mascot. She finally also noticed that the web of ink that usually surrounded him had gone away as well.
“You scared me,” Bendy said, the ominous echo gone from his voice. “Please don’t do that again.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Pinkie Pie said, leaning into his hug.
“As touching as this is,” Susie cut in, “you still haven’t answered my question!”
Bendy looked up from the pony. “She fell on my head and I adopted her.”
Susie’s jaw worked a moment before she put a hand against her forehead. “Cartoon logic,” she muttered to herself. “Don’t question it.”
Shaking her head, she tried a different tact. “Then why? Don’t you remember Rosemary’s baby?”
Bendy narrowed his eyes. “Hey, everything turned out alright in the end,” he said.
Susie stared at him. “You and I have different definitions of ‘alright’ then,” she said dryly.
“Hey, I’ve been doing alright so far!” Bendy protested.
“And how long has that been?” Susie asked.
“Uh…” Bendy looked down at his hands and began counting on them. “About a day?” he asked. “I have no clue.”
Susie would have said something, but she had lost track of time herself. The fact that the clocks ran at random speed didn’t help either. “Listen,” she said. “If you need help, come find me. I will help… if I’m not in a mood.”
Bendy smiled. “Thanks, Angel!” he chirped.
“Susie,” she said (Alice! I’m Alice Angel!). “My name is Susie.”
“Nice ta meet ya, Susie!” Bendy said, waving a hand as he left. “See you around, toots.”
“See you around,” Susie (Alice!) said, waving back. “I will see you, little devil darling.”
It was later that she would notice that the ink in her left eye had stopped running. ↅ WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
“I like her,” Pinkie Pie chirped.
Bendy chuckled. “I’m glad that you do,” he said.
“Can we see Mommy again, soon?” ↅ WHAT?
“We’ll see- wait, Mommy?”
Idea 4: A Band of Brothers
She didn’t think that he would take her up on her offer. She had made the offer out of the blue, but she didn’t think he would agree to it, based off their interactions in the cartoons.
But she found Pinkie Pie sitting outside of her sanctuary one day, waiting for her to open the door.
Susie (Alice!) took the pony in and took care of her the best that she could, drawing upon and adapting years of raising and taking care of younger siblings (She had siblings, a sister and two brothers. How long had it been since she thought of them?). Surprisingly, while she watched over Pinkie Pie, the madness she sometimes suffered from never touched her.
Unfortunately, Pinkie still loved to wander, often leading her and Bendy on long chases through the studio. She was currently chasing after the pink pony, having gone up to the Heavenly Toys floor, looking around for her.
“PINKIE!” she called out. Once again, there was no answer. Sighing, she wrote this floor off and headed back to the elevator.
However, before she made it, her foot hit something. Looking down, she saw another tape recorder lying next to it. Picking it up, she tried to read the name, but it had been badly smudged. Shrugging, she hit the play button. ↅ WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?
Wally’s voice came out of the tape. “So, the gal they got voicing Bendy came down while I was cleaning the machines, leading something on a leash. Dunno what kinda dog it was, but that thing is HUGE! Well, whatever it was, it must have fell into the ink, because it is covered with it.
“I do know one thing. If they expect me to clean up after it, I’m outta here!”
The tape clicked off, leaving Susie (Alice!) confused. She had a dog? That didn’t sound right at all, she was pretty sure that she had been allergic to them (Didn’t wolves count as dogs? Why wasn’t she sneezing around all the Borises?). But a memory began to resurface. She had lead something on a leash, it wasn’t a dog it was-
A sneeze startled her out of her thoughts. “Hello?” Susie asked. “Is there anyone here?”
“Nobody here but us toys.”
This was followed by a ‘SMACK!’ and a whispered “Shut up, Edgar!” Susie looked over to where the voice had come from, seeing three larger shapes slightly moving among the plushies. “I can see you,” she said flatly.
There was silence, then a voice grumbling, “Nice going, Edgar.” Three figures emerged from the pile of stuffed animals.
Susie (Alice!) blinked. “Charley?” she asked. “Barley? Edgar?” ↅ THEM TOO?
It was indeed the three members of the Butcher Gang, now appearing more like they did in the episodes, but still with some imperfections.
Charley’s leaking eye had reformed into a proper toon eye, although the other one was still X-ed out. The plunger that the clones had had been replaced by a more human-like leg, and he now had a human left hand as well. He had also regained his impressive eyebrows and was wearing a suit jacket that appeared to have been fitted for a human.
Barley’s head now resembled his on-model face, but it was still attached to his fishing pole. His left leg and arm were now misshapen, being long and gangly. He was leaning on a crude harpoon twice as tall as he was. The ‘Liar’ sign was also missing.
Edgar was at once both the least changed, and the one most resembling his cartoon self. He had gotten rid of the strap around his waist as well as the stiches keeping his original mouth closed. The metal piece that was connected to his right arms had split, leaving him with two somewhat functional limbs. His right hand had split down the middle, leaving his right hands with two fingers each.
“Eeeyup, that’s us,” Charley said, stepping forward. “Whaddya want?”
“What’s your name?” Edgar chimed in.
“Shut up, Edgar, I’m talking to the dame,” Charley said, whispering loudly out of the corner of his mouth. “So what’s yous doin on our turf?”
Susie (Alice!) barely refrained from putting her hand to her face again. The Butcher Gang was proving to be even more annoying in person. “I’m looking for someone. Her name is Pinkie Pie-”
“Ya mean da pony?” Barley asked. “She fell out of da pipe into our hideout. We’ve been playing wit her since den.”
“Where is she now?” Susie asked.
“FOUND YOU!” Pinkie cried, jumping onto Charley. “Oh, hi, Mommy!”
“Mommy?” Barley and Edgar repeated.
“You don’t look like a mother,” Edgar added, before he was smacked by Barley.
“Shut up, Edgar,” the old pirate said. “Dat mouth of yours is gonna get ye killed someday.”
Edgar crossed his arms and looked at the floor. “Not like we can die permanently here, anyway,” he muttered under his breath.
“So, who’s the father?” Charley asked quickly, trying to pry Pinkie Pie off.
Susie (Alice!) took the pony from him and smiled when the filly hugged her. “It’s Bendy,” she said.
“Bendy!?!” all three of the Butcher Gang repeated.
“Doesn’t he remember Mrs. Rosemary’s baby?” Edgar asked.
Susie rolled her eyes. “That’s what I asked.”
Barley started sniggering. “That’s what she-”
He was cut off by a slap from Edgar surprisingly. “Shut up, Edgar!” he said cheerfully, before realizing what he had just said. “D’oh!”
Charley blinked, then shook his head. “Well, I told yous we get ya back to ya folks,” he said. “Well, here ya go.”
Pinkie Pie jumped out of Susie’s arms and hugged the chimp-like toon. “Thank you, Mister Charley!” she said. “Can we play again soon?”
Charley looked at the other members of the Butcher Gang and shrugged. “Don’t see why not?” he said. “Take care ya hear!”
“Bye!” Edgar and Barley said as they followed Charley back into the depths of the studio.
Susie (Alice!) and Pinkie watched as the trio disappeared into the shadows. “They were nothing like the cartoons,” Pinkie Pie said.
“So did you have fun?” Susie asked.
Pinkie nodded her head quickly. “Yep! But before that, I went exploring!”
“Did you find anything?”
“Just this.” Pinkie Pie reached into her mane and pulled out a tape recorder. The name on this one was Sammy Lawrence. Susie (Alice!) was silent momentarily as she tried to get ahold of herself. While she tried to keep control of her actions, Pinkie hit the play button, allowing a familiar voice to come out.
“To the idiot who ate my cake:
“I know who you are.
“Start running.”
The tape clicked off and Susie couldn’t help herself. She started laughing while Pinkie Pie looked up at her. “I don’t get it,” she said.
In another part of the studio, a cartoon wolf sat at a table, drumming his fingers. Boris the Wolf stared at the eight cans of bacon soup in front of him, occasionally tapping a finger on each of them. No matter what he did, the number refused to change. Boris frowned. He would have to go on a food run soon.
One would think that no one would be able to find any new food in a studio that had been closed down for quite some time. And that one would right in fact. No deliveries of food or anything else had come to the place for years.
However, the cans full of bacon soup remained, and stayed edible. What was even more miraculous, was that in certain spots around the studio, more would appear after a certain amount of time had passed.
It was to several of these areas that Boris was headed to. He grabbed his bag, along with a flashlight as well as his trusty wrench. Giving a nod to the portrait on the wall, he inserted the lever into the socket and pulled down. The heavy door slid open, revealing the blackened corridor, which was one of his many defenses against the monsters of the studio. Clicking the light on, he pulled open a vent and slid into it, hoping that he would be able to get a harvest form one of the safer places.
He wasn’t that lucky.
The spots where he usually found soup cans were empty, suggesting that someone had cleaned them out before. There wasn’t any on the first floor, and the Prophet was hanging around the spot in the Sound Department.
And nobody willing ever went down to Floor S.
So, he had to go to the only other place where he could find bacon soup cans.
Boris peaked out of one of the vents on Floor 9. The ‘Alice’ monster wasn’t around, or any of the Butcher gang clones, so he was safe for now.
Boris jumped out of the vent and ran over to the closet. He opened the door hoping to find…
Jackpot! The shelves were filled with cans of bacon soup, threatening to spill out. Quickly, he began scooping cans into his bag. Thanks to an application of Toon force, he was able to fill the bag within minutes. Securing his load, he jumped back into the vent and started making his way back to his safehouse.
At least that was the plan. ↅ TURN LEFT
He was going down the right path when he heard the music. At first, he paid it no mind, the studio was scatted with old radios that picked up unknown signals, and every so often, one of the Lost Ones would turn on a radio, hoping to hear a favorite song playing.
But then he heard the voice. Despite the inhabitant’s love of music, none of them would sing along to the lyrics, lest they attract the attention of the Ink Demon, or worst. Curious at this, Boris crawled down the vent towards the song, going gingerly over a section that let out an alarming creak.
By the time he got to the end of the vent, the music had stopped. Crawling to the grate, he peaked out, seeing if he could get a glimpse of the singer. However, he had to stop a frightened yelp from coming out when he saw the singer.
The ‘Alice’ monster that roamed these floors was pacing around outside, crying out for someone. Whoever this ‘Pinkie Pie’ was, he felt sorry for her, being chased by the mad angel.
Boris turned around, deciding to leave before the angel decided to check inside the vents. He hoped that Pinkie got away from the angel.
“Hi there!”
Boris jumped, causing the vent to drastically shriek.
Oh, son of a-
Boris let out a yelp as the vent collapsed.
Susie (Alice!) stopped as a piece of the ceiling fell down, causing a cloud of dust to rise up. The remains of an air vent could be seen, with a leg sticking out of it. The leg retracted and Boris sat up out of the rubble, rubbing his head, THE MOST PERFECT BORIS SHE HAD EVER SEEN! SHE NEEDED HIM! SHE NEEDED HIS INSIDES TO MAKE HER BEAUTIFUL AGAIN, TO MAKE HER WHO-
“Hi, Mommy!” Pinkie Pie said, poking her head out of the rubble.
Susie blinked, the mania that had been building fading away, leaving her with a clearer head. As her focus returned to her, she saw Boris against the wall, cowering with his hands covering his face.
She shook off the last bits of her madness and approached the wolf. “It’s okay,” she said, quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The wolf peaked through his fingers, still wary of her.
“Don’t worry!” Pinkie said, bouncing into view. “Mommy won’t do whatever she did to you!”
Susie flinched.
Boris removed his hand from his face as Pinkie Pie talked. Then his eyes went wide, and he began looking quickly between Susie and Pinkie, which was followed by finger pointing.
Susie sighed. “Yes, she is adopted. Bendy’s the father.”
The wolf glanced at the two of them before shrugging.
“Why don’t you talk?” Pinkie asked.
Boris just shrugged.
“Boris never had a voice actor,” Susie said. “I think that…” She trailed off. What was she supposed to say? That the Traitor forever condemned them to the ink before the wolf could get a voice?
But something seemed wrong with that thought. Maybe the Joey she had first knew would have engineered the accident, but the Joey of later years seemed different. He had-
She hissed as her headache returned with a vengeance. Pinkie Pie had started talking to Boris. “So, do you know any games?” ↅ INTERESTING…
Boris put a hand to his chin, before snapping his fingers. Reaching behind his back he pulled out a stick, which he began waving over Pinkie’s head.
The pink pony began jumping around, trying to reach the stick held just out of reach. Boris finally reared back his hand and threw the stick.
But before Pinkie could go after the stick, Boris had shot after it. He returned shortly, with it in his mouth, which he dropped at the pony’s hooves.
Susie smiled as Pinkie Pie threw the stick and both she and Boris ran after it. She sat down on a nearby chair to wait for them.
She frowned as she felt something underneath her. Standing up, she found that she had almost sat on another tape recorder, this one with the name Wally Franks . Picking it up, she sat down again and hit play.
“So somebody must have been listening when I was stating that this dang studio’s too big to clean by myself, ‘cause they finally hired someone to pick up the slack. The new guy is good, although he does dress kinda funny.
“I will tell ya one thing. If Joey expects me to wear a funny head on the job, I’m outta here!”
The tape clicked off, and Boris and Pinkie had returned, the tiny pony carrying the stick in her mouth. She dropped the stick and grinned up at the bigger wolf. “That was fun!” she said. “Thanks for playing with me!”
Boris reached down and ruffled her mane.
“Can we play again sometime?”
Boris shrugged and looked at Susie (Alice!).
She smiled. “I don’t see why not,” she answered. “At least, as long as Bendy is okay with it.”
Boris looked down at Pinkie and gave a thumbs-up.
“Yay!” Pinkie cheered, jumping up and hugging the wolf, who gladly returned it.
“Come along, Pinkie,” Susie said. “It’s time for you to go home.”
The filly dropped out of his arms and bounced into Susie’s. “Bye Boris!” she said, waving at the wolf.
The wolf in question returned the wave before disappearing into the depths of the studio.
Boris headed back to his home with a slight spring in his step. Thing were looking better than when he had left his hideout. Not only did he have a full bag of food, the ‘Alice’ monster wasn’t a monster anymore! Well most of the time. But that was a step up! He had a feeling that things were only going to get better.
Upon reaching the stairs, he found a tape recorder with the name of Thomas Conner . Still in a good mood, Boris hit play, causing a half-remembered conversation to spill out.
“There was another burst pipe on Floor 14 today, so I took Frank and Lupin with me to fix it. Franks was his usual amount of useful, but Lupin proved quite adapt, despite his clothing choices.
“But I’m getting worried. That’s the sixth time this month a pipe has burst down there. I know that’s what that area’s for, but that’s way too often for my liking. I know Mr. Drew says his friend knows what he’s doing, but someone’s going to get hurt one of these days.
“Sometimes I wish that the original machine was still up and running.”
“Well, it’s been a while since we all gathered together,” Bendy remarked.
All six Toons and Pinkie Pie were in an old storage room that had mostly been cleared of ink. Bendy, Susie, Charley, and Barley were seated on various crates around an emptied wire spool talking while Boris and Edgar played with Pinkie.
“Ye do realize dat dis be the secon’ time we met?” Barley asked, trying to drive a tap into a keg the Butcher Gang had dragged to the meeting.
Bendy had forgotten that but wasn’t about to admit it to the Butcher Gang.
Barley grunted as he finally drove the tap into the barrel. “Alrigh’, drink up, me hearties!” he said, pouring the drink into four mugs and setting them before the others.
Susie took a sip from hers. “I think its root beer,” she said. She took another sip. “Yep, definitely root beer.”
Bendy drank his down in one gulp. “It’s fizzy!” he proclaimed.
Charley took a drink from his glass. “Wow,” he said. “Whoever dis Wally fella is, he’s missin’ out on something!”
“Wally?” Susie asked.
“Dat was de name on da barrel,” Barely said as he refilled his glass.
“I knew he had a stash somewhere!” Susie cried, slamming a hand on the table before wincing.
Bendy noticed. “Do you need some aspirin or something?”
Boris whined, tugging at Susie’s dress.
“Not now, honey,” she said, before turning back to Bendy. “I’m good now, it’s gone.”
“If you say so,” Bendy said, not sounding convinced.
“Anyways,” Charley said, reaching into his suit jacket. “Me and the boys found this lying around.”
He pulled out a clock from his jacket. It was octangular, with a splotch of ink on the back. It was also… strangely shaded, but not like Pinkie Pie’s coat.
Susie seemed to recognize the color, but she had a different question. “Why are the hands moving that fast?”
Indeed, the hands were spinning around so fast that they were a blur, along with two rings centered around the center.
“Not a clue,” Charley answered. “Whaddaya want for it?”
“Uh, hey, Charley,” Edgar said, tugging at his friend’s sleeve.
“Shut up, Edgar,” the oldest Butcher Gang member said. “We’re talkin’ here.”
“What is the color?” Bendy asked, turning it over in his hands.
Boris’s ears perked up, and he was staring intently at the clock.
“This is purple,” Susie said, tapping the main body. “And this writing is a type of green.”
Bendy looked closer. On the bottom in a small hand partially obscured by the ink were the words ‘Professor Ti Time Jui Cloc.’ “Must be a brand,” he said. ↅ ME’S CE K
“Anyways, what do ye have?” Barely asked. “We be a’waitin for an offer.”
“Hold your horses,” Bendy said, reaching behind his head and pulling out an object. “Here we go, a complete copy of ‘Demonic Tonic.’ ”
“We gots it,” Barley deadpanned. “Next?”
Susie shrugged. “I didn’t find anything,” she admitted.
“Figures,” Charley said. “Ya find anythin, wolf boy?”
Boris tapped his chin, before snapping his fingers and reaching behind his back. He pulled out a carved wooden bird that was mounted on a wheeled cart with a string.
Edgar’s face lit up. “Ducky!” he cried. “Where did you find him?”
Boris wiggled his fingers in a ‘so-so’ motion.
Edgar turned to Charley. “Please make the trade! Please, please, please, PLEASE!”
Charley looked uncomfortable. “Now see here, Edgar-”
“Oh, come on Charley,” Edgar begged. “Pppllleeeaaassseee?”
Charley looked uncomfortable as Edgar unleashed the deadliest weapon in his arsenal; the puppy-dog eyes. Bendy, Susie, and Barley stifled chuckles at the Toon’s discomfort.
“Oh, all right,” Charley relented.
“Yay!” Edgar cheered, shoving the clock at Boris and picking up the wooden animal.
Susie shook her head as Boris picked up the clock. “For a moment, I thought he was going to give that to Pinkie,” she said.
“Wait,” Bendy said. “Where’s Pinkie?”
Edgar and Boris looked at each other. “Uhhh…” Edgar began.
“wHeRe Is ShE!?!”
Both Toons cowered. “We don’t know!” Edgar wailed. “She disappeared and we can’t find her!”
“Why didn’t ye tell us?” Barley said as he picked up his harpoon.
“We’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes!”
“Shut up, Edgar,” Bendy said. “Now, she couldn’t have gotten far. Boris, Barley, look around Heavenly Toys. Susie, you and Charley check Bendyland. Edgar, you look on the top floor and I’ll-” Suddenly, he stopped.
“Bendy?” Susie asked.
“Never mind,” he said, his skin beginning to run. “I have a good idea wHeRe ShE iS.”
The ink man that had once been Sammy Lawrence lived a simple life. Get up, straighten up the cutouts of his Lord, guide his loyal flock, pray to Bendy, sing the songs of Bendy, look for tender sheep to offer to his Lord, return to his sanctuary and go into a state of not-sleep until the next day.
It was pretty easy to see what his world revolved around.
However, the being that was now known as the Prophet was forced into a state of wakefulness by a racket coming from the band room. Picking himself off the floor, he opened the door and poked his head out.
Right in front of him was a confusing sight. The stands were populated by Searchers, who were working the instruments with… various amounts of skill. Conducting the group was a strangely colored pony who was singing, “You stomp your whole self in, you stomp your whole self out, you stomp your whole self in, and you give a little shout-”
“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE!?!” the Prophet shouted, a little bit of Sammy peaking out.
The band stopped playing as a record screech sounded in the background and the pony fell down. “M-Mr. Lawrence!” one of the Searchers stammered. “Didn’t know you were in there!”
“Would that have made a difference!”
“N-no sir! It’s just the pony want us to play some songs she had written-”
Whatever the Searcher was going to say was never known, as he collapsed back into ink, along with the rest of the impromptu band.
“Hi!”
Sammy looked down at the… pink pony.
“My name is Pinkie Pie! What’s yours?”
“I… haven’t gone by my name in a long time, little sheep,” the Prophet admitted. “What is one like you doing down here?”
“Exploring! Daddy and the others were too busy talking, so I dove into the pipes. Do you know any games?”
Sammy was confused at the pony’s cavalier attitude, and a bit put off by it.
The Prophet knew exactly what to do with this little sheep.
Pinkie Pie sat where the funny guy had told her to sit. He said that he was going to summon his lord to meet her. Did that mean that he was a knight like Bendy was that one time? She couldn’t wait to meet him!
Well, his lord was being slow, so Pinkie pulled a tape she had picked up earlier out from her mane. The name on this one was ‘Joey Drew.’ She immediately hit play.
“Thomas has just shown me the first prototype.
“My god, what have I done?
“It… no, not an it… he is nothing like I had imagined, and definitely not like Henry would have drawn him.
“Oh, Henry. What would you say if you could see what I have done with our creation?
“He seems to be in pain, except when he’s in ink. He’s currently in a large vat soaking.
“I’m meeting with Murray tomorrow. I hope he has some idea of what can be done to help him.
“He has to.”
The tape clicked off. Pinkie hoped that the ‘prototype’ was okay, whatever a prototype was. ↅ BOTH ARE TRUE
It was then that she heard yelling from behind the closed door.
The Prophet had fallen back on his routine, preparing the lost sheep for sacrifice. He had placed her in the circle and had played the old song to summon his Lord.
He did not expect his Lord to slam him against the wall.
“wHeRe Is ShE!?!” the Ink Demon demanded, holding Sammy around the throat. “wHeRe Is PiNkIe PiE!?!”
“My Lord!” Sammy wheezed. “I am your prophet-”
“sToP sTaLlInG!” the towering ink monstrosity growled. “wHaT dId YoU dO tO hEr!?!”
“Daddy, I’m in the next room!”
Bendy dropped Sammy and went through the door, leaving an outline of his body. The Prophet followed more cautiously, peering through the hole.
Bendy nuzzled Pinkie Pie. “I was so worried,” he murmured.
“Don’t worry, Daddy! Mr. Sammy was right there with me!”
Bendy stopped nuzzling and stared at Pinkie. “That’s what I was worried about.”
“But Daddy!” Pinkie Pie continued. “Everyone I met has been nice!”
“I know,” Bendy admitted. “But not everyone here is nice. You could have gotten hurt.”
Pinkie pouted.
Bendy sighed. “Just promise that you’ll be careful.”
“My lord!” the Prophet interrupted. Bendy looked down at the ink man as he continued rambling. “If it would please you, would you please come down to our humble village far below? It would be an honor if you would grace us with your presence.”
Bendy stared at Sammy. “I’ll think about it,” he said, before heading back to his home.
The clock laid where had it been left on the table, the hands still spinning backwards. But slowly they began to slow, until they stopped and started going the other way. The second and third ring stopped as well, revealing months and days written on them. However, they began flipping between two dates.
April 14. ↅ 1955
August 31. ↅ 1963
Idea 7: A Creator's Sanctuary
Pinkie Pie crawled through the pipes, humming a jazzy tune. She was on a mission! she was going to find Sammy’s secret village and make a lot of new friends!
Of course, she had to find her way through the vents first.
But vents never led her wrong before!
This time was proving to be the one time they did.
She was lost in the maze-like structure, getting confused by the many twists and turns. She trotted down many identical paths, until she finally found a grate in the floor. Kicking it open, she jumped down.
She landed on a small couch that was underneath the opening. There was little else in the room, save for a chair and one of those slanted table thingies. A board was mounted on the wall, contain sketches of her friends and family, as well as a radio in the corner.
Surprising, there was almost none of the black stuff on the floors or the walls. There was only one sentence written on the wall: WHO PRAYS FOR THE CREATOR?
Pinkie went over to the radio and turned it on. A slow voice came out of the speaker. “~I march through this darkened maze, this marked cave is not my resting place…~” Pinkie bobbed her head to the music and kept looking around.
There was another voice box on the table. Hoping up upon the chair, Pinkie saw that it was another one by Joey Drew. She tapped the play button.
“So this is how it ends. Not with a bang or a great shout… but with a quiet whimper. I don’t want to admit it… but I cannot deny it any longer. I cannot ignore Grant’s reports any longer. Joey Drew Studios is going under. I have spent too much money, made too many gambles, and what have I got? A large machine and a lot of ink.
“I’m sorry, Henry. I guess you were right after all. You should have pushed a little harder.
“Well, I can’t sit in my sanctuary feeling sorry for myself. I have things to take care of before I close the doors for good. I have already informed the staff and gave most of them their final checks. Only a few of the old guard remain, including Sammy, surprisingly. I honestly thought that he would jump ship the first chance he got.
“And I’m glad. Because I am going to need their help to make one last reel. Something to help those down below who are going to be forced to stay here. I have made a rough draft ready, to be ran through the Ink Machine before I leave this place for good.
“I am going to leave the rough draft here in my sanctuary until the final one is completed. I think I’ll call it ‘The End.’ I think it’s fitting, considering what brought me to this…”
The tape ended with a click, and Pinkie saw the reel lying beside the table. She picked it up and saw it was blank except for a small scrap of tape in one corner. Shrugging, she stuffed it into her mane and jumped back into the pipe.
The radio ended its song with one last lyric. “~Run and hope to die, it seems here there’s more than meets the eye.~”
Pinkie Pie crawled through the vents, still looking for Sammy’s village. She hadn’t found anything interesting ever since the sanctuary thing. Reaching another grate, she peered through it.
The room was empty, except for a cutout of her daddy. Except it wasn’t. It had eyes like her own, with a tear going down from one eye. It was also holding a sign with the words “WANDERING IS A TERRIBLE SIN” written on it.
Pinkie Pie shivered and decided that she had done enough exploring today. She turned around and headed back to Bendy’s den, missing the cutout turning to face the vent. ↅ THE MONSTER SEES YOU
She crawled through the pipes, until she came to an intersection. Pulling out her glass, she looked at the walls. ↅ TURN LEFT
Going left, she followed the vent until she reached the end. Another voice box was lying in the middle of the vent. Whatever name was on it was smudged out, however. Pinkie Pie reached over and tapped the play button.
“The time is at hand,” a voice she had never heard before crooned. “The stars are aligning, and the sacrifices are at hand, and just in time. The old fool doesn’t realize the true power my machine has.
“I must go to prepare the ritual. But it doesn’t matter at this stage. No one can be allowed to stop me now… I saw the janitor poking around my machine. I am going to have to go over it again, in case he meddled with anything. My prize is almost in my grasp…” ↅ HE DID
After the tape ended, a rumble echoed through the vents. Spooked, Pinkie turned around, planning on making her way home.
Suddenly, she felt an itch in her ear. This was followed by her tail waving, and her left hindleg stiffening. She ended it by doing a full body twist. She landed on her hooves, waiting for something to happen.
The pipe broke and she plummeted down towards the inky lake below.
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.
Idea 9: A Wandering Mechanic And A Missing HalfView Online
Idea 9: A Wandering Mechanic And A Missing Half
As the ink stilled, Pinkie Pie looked around. She was still standing where the Memory had set her down. It appeared to be a cave, with a closed door and a metal fence thingie covering an alcove. There wasn’t a handle, but there was a hole in the wire that she could probably slip through.
One tight squeeze later, and she was through. There wasn’t a door on the other side, but there was a vent. Pulling it off, Pinkie slipped into the ventilation system.
When the sounds caused by the pink pony had faded away, the closed door let out a hiss and opened, revealing the duo that had hidden behind it. “What was that, Tom?” the shorter of the pair asked.
Tom shrugged.
Pinkie Pie kicked open a grate at the end of the vent and jumped down to the floor. She was standing in at a T-intersection, with a Bendy cutout leaning against the wall. To the right, was what Susie had called a ‘Ink Maker.’ Beyond that, the floor was missing, with several boards precariously balanced across the gaps. ↅ RETREADING OLD AND NEW GROUND
A set of footprints led down the left hallway. Pinkie Pie followed them until she came across a figure facing away from her.
It looked like Bendy, but not in the way the other Not-Bendy had looked like. While the other one had been horrifying, this one just looked incomplete. Its body was composed mostly of gray tubes, with black shoes on its feet. It also had a white right hand with a black left arm and hand. ↅ SHE MOVED
It was kneeling in front of a panel that had been pulled off and was poking at it with a screwdriver. It let out a burst of static and spoke. “Great, I need the other kind,” she said.
Her head turned to look at her black hand. After a few moments, the ink that composed it shifted, becoming like the screwdriver in her other hand, but a bit different. Satisfied with the tool, she turned back to the panel and began tightening something inside of it using her transformed hand.
That was when Pinkie Pie decided to speak up. “Hi there!”
The being jumped up and around, screwdriver arm at ready. Half of its face looked like the Bendy cutouts she had seen around the studio, except for being rounded. The left half of the face was the same metallic gray as the rest of the body, with the mouth being an oval.
“Who’s there?” the Not-Bendy cried, teeth flashing as it spoke. “Show yourself!” She then looked down. “A pony?”
“Hi!” Pinkie said. “I’m Pinkie Pie!”
Not-Bendy let out a spark and straightened up. “Hiya, New Friend!” she said, now sounding like Bendy when she and him had fooled around with the intercom a few days ago. “It’s me, Ben-”
She was cut off by the left hand punching herself in the head. After Not-Bendy had ceased her impression of a bobblehead, she added, “Sorry about that, it happens sometimes. Anyway, I’m Lacie, nice to meet ya.”
“Can you help me find my daddy?” Pinkie asked.
Lacie shrugged. “Probably,” she said. “What floor are they on?”
“I dunno,” Pinkie admitted. “But Mommy’s on Floor 9!”
“Floor 9?” Lacie tapped her chin. “Yeah, I can get ya there, but first we need to get this elevator workin’,” she said, indicating the panel behind her.
“I can help!” Pinkie cried, jumping up and down.
Lacie looked down at her before shrugging. “Oh, why not,” she said. “I could always use a second pair of eyes. Come along,” she said, joints making a slight squeaking noise as she moved. “Everything’s fine with the machine, we just need a dry cell to get it going.”
“Okay!” Pinkie said. “Let’s go!” She started to go down the hallway, before she turned to face Lacie. “What’s a dry cell?”
Lacie chuckled. “They are these little boxes…” she began as she began walking beside the tiny pony.
As it turned out, describing a dry cell was easier than actually finding a functioning one. the ones they did find were stuck in their sockets or were unable to be used.
They did manage to find a tape from Thomas Conner . However, the information on this tape was less than useful to their current situation.
“I’m starting to question the sanity of whoever designed this new machine.
“Not that I wasn’t before, but I have been looking over the blueprints and I have found a few things that are worrying. For example, the pressure has to stay within a range of 15 degrees, or every pipe will burst in the studio if the ink pressure gets two high, or if the pressure gets too low there is a chance that this new machine could collapse into itself. And that is just the most worrying problem.
“Either Hill knows something I don’t, or he’s pulling stuff out of his backside.”
The tape clicked off and Lacie grew concerned. That day when everything happened, she remembered looking over some of the pipes, remembered looking at the gauges, remembered the pressure climbing over fifteen degrees-
She was jolted out of her memories by a large thump and Pinkie Pie pointing and saying, “There’s someone over there!”
“Are ya sure?” Lacie asked.
There was a clank and a can of bacon soup rolled out from around the corner.
“Guess ya were. Hello?”
“Who’s there?” a voice asked. “Stay back! I’ve got a… actually, I don’t know what this is, but I know how to use it!”
Lacie looked down at Pinkie and shouted back, “We aren’t gonna hurt ya, lass!”
A moment of silence. “P-promise?”
Pinkie Pie spoke up before Lacie could. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye we won’t hurt you!”
Lacie felt something at that, like the world reaffirming that Pinkie’s words were genuine.
“I-if you say so,” the voice said, and its owner came around the corner.
Standing in the hallway was what looked like an Alice Angel. However, this one seemed to be in worst shape than Susie. Her dress reached to the floor and seemed to replace her missing legs. Her hands were mismatched, the left one black and inky with four fingers, the right pale and smooth with five. A pale streak was at the top of her body, contrasting sharply with her black dress. She held a strange tool in her right hand that crackled with electricity.
Her face was the worst of it. The right side was a melting mess, the eye running into a smudge that might have been a mouth. Her left eye was a proper Toon eye, but there was a yellow dot in it that moved randomly.
The perfect halo that hung above her head almost seemed to be mocking her.
The angel tottered forward unsteadily on her dress hem, the strange tool held between her and the other two. Slowly she lowered it. “Who are you?” she asked, her jaw moving, but her mouth not opening. “Where are we?” Hesitantly, she added, “Who am I?”
Lacie sighed. “That seems to be the thousand-dollar question around here,” she said. “But the fact that ya seem to be in charge of your mental facilities is some good news in ya favor.”
The melted angel almost collapsed. “Thank goodness,” she said. “You two are the first people I’ve met that haven’t attacked me.”
“Good rule of thumb,” Lacie replied. “If it doesn’t talk, chances are it’s gonna attack ya.”
“Uncle Boris doesn’t talk,” Pinkie Pie added.
Lacie shrugged. “Or they are a Boris. I don’t suppose ya seen a dry cell?”
She hadn’t. Fortunately, her device was able to redirect power to the elevator and get it working again. After making sure the elevator would stay working, the trio got into the cab and Lacie selected the button for Floor 9.
“Gee, I hope that Mommy and Daddy aren’t too worried about me,” Pinkie Pie said as the elevator started going upward.