Chapter Text
You weren't sure how you got here, you really weren't.
Well, you knew how exactly. You walked there, following the sounds to this exact spot and put yourself in this situation. But you weren't sure how exactly your life came to this point .
How you got to the point in your life where you're standing in the doorway of a room in your workplace, everyone else already gone with a growling monstrosity in front of you. Hunched over itself like it's ready to pounce, a large grin vibrating aggressively. And yet you still have not left, standing frozen in the doorway like a statue.
How did you get to this point in your life?
You're just a simple writer for Joey Drew's Studio, and it's barely even writing that you do. You really just correct spelling and grammar the other writers do before it's sent off, you usually being tasked with taking the scripts to Joey Drew himself, or his secretary, or the animation department. And due to your inability to say no, you usually get sent to other departments too with stuff to be run around.
A glorified gofer essentially.
You really didn't have any business down in the dark hallway of the Music Department, you really shouldn't have been here this late anyway. But you were a bit behind on your work with running all over the place for people. So you were trying to catch up on your actual job, nose nearly pressed to the paper with how concentrated on it you were.
You're not even sure what the script is about, just another for an episode of the cartoon. One of the many that may or may not get trashed later, one of the many proposed that may not even reach the screen. It's kind of a waste of paper, you're pretty sure there's supposed to be a concept screening before the script is actually written down and smoothed out. But you wouldn't know, you're pretty low down on the ladder and don't deal with those things.
Just doing what you're told.
You had always liked writing, or telling stories. You did it often, telling the children at your school elaborate tall tales crafted within your mind and writing down disjointed parts on scrap papers and napkins. You read everything you could get your hands on, mostly fiction but you certainly didn't turn your nose up at non-fiction books either. Your teachers certainly took notice of your heightened writing abilities compared to other students your age, not that you were a masterful storyteller at the time or anything, but you were gifted as they would say. Not that they were always amused with your tales, the way you got lost in them sometimes.
Living in the fantasy world, they'd say. Your head in the clouds.
Maybe that's what got you the job here, your interest in writing. That's what you were hoping anyway, to be able to get your ideas out into the world. Put a little more creativity out there. You thought that's what Joey Drew saw in you. He's the one that approached you when he heard you telling a story to some kids, one you were coming up with on the spot. He said he was impressed, wanted you to come write stories for his studio. His cartoons. Write the stories for Bendy and his friends to entertain people everywhere. It was a dream come true!
Though... that's not what really happened, but you're getting paid at least. It's a start, if nothing else.
It was a loud bang that startled you out of your concentrated state, glancing around in confusion as you finally notice that no one else is around. Then you hear another bang that startles you out of that confusion too, eyes moving to the floor under your feet. It sounds like it came from beneath you, on one of the lower floors of the studio.
You stand up instinctively, glancing around before walking towards the stairs. You take them down, following the sound of banging as best as you could. You can't really tell what it is, just that it's loud enough to be heard from several stories up apparently. But maybe that's just because of the lack of other noise in the building, it's really quiet. Almost deadly silent.
You can't hear the usual city noise from outside, you suddenly realize. It's not something you ever really noticed before, but it's always very quiet in this building. It's always been that way to your knowledge though, even with other people around. Everyone always looks too severe, grim. Like something terrible has happened or they know it is going to happen soon. No one seems to want to chat around here, it's not lively like you had expected it to be when you first started working.
Both the Story Department and the Art Department are particularly quiet, only the sounds of pens scratching paper able to be heard. The Music Department doesn't have a whole lot of chatter either, if the band isn't playing or a voice actor recording lines, it's rather quiet. Though that may just be because of the music director. The lobbies and break rooms are where the most noise is, usually anyway. When there's people in them. Otherwise it's just the receptionist's typewriter clicking or the various machines in the break rooms buzzing.
The most noise usually comes from the pipes, the things groaning and moaning under pressure. It never sounded right to you, but you don't know enough about that to tell if that's wrong or abnormal. It's not your area of expertise, so you never said anything and just nodded when anyone else would say something to you about it. It got easy enough to ignore it after a while, just a regular background noise to block out while working.
At any point, the building is rather quiet. Or maybe it's not and you just don't pay enough attention to hear the noise. But you heard this one.
It was just crossing your mind that the banging might be caused by someone breaking into the building, making your steps pause. You know you're not strong enough to fight someone off, you're not built for it or ready for the possibility. You'd likely get hurt trying, or killed in the worst case scenario.
Maybe it's just.. someone else too. Someone else who stayed late for whatever reason they had. It's not that unlikely, you know the artists tend to stay late to finish their work too. Or some of them do at least. You don't know why they would be banging on something like that though, like they were trying to get into somewhere.
It's in this pause where you're contemplating just leaving when you hear it. The moaning. It didn't sound like that of a creaking building or a human. It sounded something like an animal, almost like a cat or dog but not exactly right. Maybe like the way an animal yowls when it's hurt or hungry, or maybe angry. But it doesn't quite fit any description you can think of, it was just something. Something you've never heard of. Just something off. It was creepy, disturbing especially with how dark and empty the studio was.
You really start to realize how alone you currently are now, everyone's really gone home and the studio is empty aside from you and whatever's making those noises. Whether that thing is angry or in pain, if it's even a living thing in the first place, you're unsure. But whatever it is, it's making a lot of noise.
There's another loud bang and it's followed by a wail. A wail that was like the moaning, but sounded more distressed. Desperate. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, your nerves fry at the pure anguish in the cry. It certainly sounded like something living, something that may need help. That's even desperate for it, or to get out of whatever situation it's in at least.
It tugs at your heart strings.
It gets you moving again too, your feet quickly carrying you down into the Music Department and its labyrinth of hallways. You pause again, glancing around but the noises continue. Echoing down the halls which lead you in the right direction and into a dark hall you've never visited before.
It's creepy, the lights flickering and barely lit.
You absently note the Infirmary entrance, not even aware the studio had one in the first place. But another wail gets your attention back on track, a loud and violent thud following it before the moaning starts up again. A shiver wracks down your back at the sound, an unease crawling into your stomach and making you feel sick. Your hair still stands on end.
You're definitely on the right level, the sounds are close. They're even more desperate and distressed up closer, you're nearly able to feel it in your own bones. It gives a painful tug at your heart. They're not coming from the Infirmary though, so you don't head down there, passing it by for another hall.
You move slower, cautiously following the noises that lead you to a hall with a set of doors running along each wall. A loud crash makes your eyes dart to one of the doors, slowly walking over to it. It's at the end of the hallway, in what could be the darkest part of the studio in your opinion. The sick feeling crawls deeper into your stomach at the sight, but you don't stop.
You're not completely sure this is the right door and after the crash everything went quiet again. It's so silent you can hear your own breathing, slightly ragged and with a note of anxiety creeping in. The sudden lack of noise causes you to suddenly be able to hear every noise the building makes, the creaks and groans of the building settling. The groaning of the pipes overhead. The clicks your shoes make on the floorboards as you walk.
There's a large X made of two long pieces of wood crossing over the door.
It all makes your spine tense, hesitantly reaching for the door's handle. It's bitterly cold to the touch, and it's locked.
Another wail reaches your ears, this time sounding more like a cry and definitely coming from behind this door. You jump, stumbling back into the wall across from the door, as something suddenly hits it, as if something threw itself against the door in an attempt to make it break. A large bang follows, a shadow appearing and disappearing in the crack beneath the door quickly.
There's definitely something in that room.
It wails again, but it sounded different this time. Maybe it's because you're up closer to the thing, no space or floors distorting the sound, or maybe it's just because the thing realized there's someone on the other side of the door now. Either way it sounded less angry, more like it was sad. Maybe scared, terrified even, like it was crying. Not a human cry by any means, more like an animal, like you had originally thought. It sounds helpless, scared . It dug right through your heart, drawing sympathy out like blood.
Your mother always warned you that bleeding heart would get you in trouble. That it wasn't good to wear your heart on your sleeve.
You try to turn the door handle again, like it would magically be unlocked now. Obviously it isn't, that hasn't changed. But the doorknob rattling definitely got the thing's attention as it slams into the door again, seeming to shake the entire hall with the force it used. It got you to take a small step back, but the thing starts wailing again. More insistent, more desperate. The cry nearly shakes the hall itself.
You glance around, trying to think of what you could do. You don't have the key for the room and you don't know where the key would be. You doubt you're supposed to be here, the locked door a pretty clear sign of that. But the thing in there doesn't seem to want to be in there. It seems pretty desperate to get out.
You're not even sure what the thing is. It sounds kind of like an animal, but you're not sure. It doesn't sound right, you can't really figure it out. And the way it throws itself at the door, that's not normal. Not animal like. It's certainly not a human, you're pretty sure of that. You doubt a human could even make those noises, much less want to. You'd expect they'd just be yelling for help, not wailing and crying like they don't know how to speak.
Maybe you should just leave. Whatever's in there is probably locked in there for a reason, and if it's not someone else will take care of it in the morning. Whoever has the key to that room. They can call someone to take care of it if they can't, you're not sure who's room this is anyway. And if the thing behind the door is well enough to slam against it like that, it can't be too hurt.
Another wail comes from behind the door, shaking you to your core. It sounds even more desperate, even more scared, like it could hear your thoughts and is trying to get you to stay. To get you to help it. It bangs on the door again, almost frantic in the movement like it's going to die if it stays locked in that room for much longer.
…
..
You can't just leave it.
You glance around again, then reach for your hair. You can try to lock pick the door, you know how. One of the neighborhood boys taught you how when you kept locking yourself out of your apartment, it comes in handy for when you forget your keys. You never asked the boy how he knew how to do this, maybe you should've.
You hear the lock click, everything suddenly going silent on the other side of the door like a radio was suddenly turned off. You take a deep breath and push the door open.
You're not sure what you were expecting, but nothing happened when you opened the door. Maybe you thought something would jump out, perhaps something would attack you. But nothing did, it was completely silent in the room. No wailing, no moaning, no thuds.
It's really dark too, the thought of turning on a light not even crossing your mind at this point. You just look around the darkened room, trying to make out one vague shape from another. It didn't really help anything.
"Hello?" You call, taking a step into the doorway.
Perhaps you scared the thing and it hid away behind one of the things in the room. Maybe you could coax it out again, if you're gentle enough.
"Hello? It's okay, I won't hurt you. You can come out," you say in as soft and gentle of a voice you can muster. If it really is a scared animal, enough of this gentle coaxing could pull it out of hiding. You think anyway. You're not sure how a stray animal could've gotten into the building in the first place, much less a locked room, but you suppose it could happen. Weirder things have happened before. "Come on, it's okay. It's okay. You'll be alright."
Nothing. The room is still silent, nothing moving. It confuses you slightly. Calling again still results in nothing, not even a shift or a breath. You stand there for what seems like an eternity waiting, but nothing happens .
The room can't be empty, can it? Something was definitely behind this door before you opened it. You were definitely hearing something. You doubt your mind was making it all up. You're not asleep, you're pretty positive of that, so you didn't just dream it all.
Though you pinch yourself just to be sure.
"Hello?"
You hear something shift, it almost sounds like sloshing liquid. You nearly jump from the sudden noise then squint a bit, scanning the room again. No, there's definitely something in the room, but you can't see anything moving.
You slowly kneel down, thinking maybe if you're smaller it'll help. You don't think you're particularly threatening looking, but to a scared animal you can be.
"It's okay, Sweetie. I'm not going to hurt you, you can come out," you repeat, trying to remain as still as possible as you eye the room again.
There's a sound like a hiss, that sloshing shifting sound again.
You glance around once more, but still can't make anything out. Of course you don't, there isn't any light on. But with you forgetting that lights exist, you don't notice the shadows crawling throughout the room and into the hall behind you. You don't notice those, but you do notice the unease crawling deeper into your stomach. It never really went away in the first place, but it comes back into your awareness with a vengeance. Berating you for not listening to it earlier and putting yourself into whatever this situation is.
The air suddenly felt threatening, dangerous. Your blood runs cold.
You never really believed in evil. You just didn't believe it was as black and white, there was no pure good or pure evil in this world. There's good and bad people and things certainly, but nothing that was simply one thing or the other. It could be argued and fought, but there were always different sides of everything. You doubt it could ever be decided, just because of everyone's differing opinions. You believed that. But this.... it felt like pure evil.
You shake your head, dismissing the thought and trying to relax a bit more. You're just overreacting. It's fine.
"Hello?" You call again, shifting a bit to keep from falling over. You slowly reach a hand out, palm up. "It's okay, it's okay. You can come out now. Are you hurt? I can help if you are, I'd like to."
You hear the shifting noise again, a soft watery breath following it. It was quiet and calm, unlike the thing's wailing and moaning from before. You can't really tell which direction it came from, just that it's somewhere in front of you. Then you hear the sloshing noise again, and a sound of something scraping against the floorboards. Dragging, halting, limping, a footstep.
It's limping? So it is hurt?
You glance around again, rather futilely as your eyes just weren't built for this kind of darkness. But the thing starts moving again, the scraping sound back once again and getting closer to you. It makes your nerves light up and the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight, but you try to beat the feeling back and remain as still as you can so as not to frighten the thing away again.
It needs help.... you think at least.
You can feel its presence right in front of you, feel it leaning in closer. You feel something wet touching your outstretched hand, though the thing quickly jerks away from it. It shifts, you slowly bring your hand down to the floor. It moves back, closer once more and you feel a hot wet breath against your cheek.
You remain as still as you can, eyes trying to make out any shape of the thing you can. You really can't see anything even this close, can't make anything out of it. All you can make out are the quick inhalations of the thing, it finally registering the thing is smelling you.
"Hey," you murmur as quietly as possible. It still felt like a gunshot in the silence though, the thing even jerking back. You frown, feeling bad about startling the poor thing. "Hey, hey. It's okay, it's alright. I'm sorry for scaring you. It's okay."
Your soft tone seems to calm it, at least a little bit. You slowly move again, lifting a hand up and reaching for the thing. It shifts again, backing up you think, but you speak again. Softly, soothingly as possible to try and calm the thing. You hold your hand out, allowing it to decide whether it'll allow you to touch it or not. You believe that's always what you do with animals, allow them to come to you instead.
Though you're really not sure this thing's an animal anymore, you're really not sure what it is. It sounds like liquid when it moves, it felt like it was made up of some liquid when you briefly touched it. You're not sure what could be made of liquid but still be able to move around like this thing is, much less be able to hold it together enough to ram into a door. It's... confusing, to say the least. Maybe it's just wet? Got something spilled on it and hasn't dried off yet, that'd make a lot more sense than something made of liquid.
It would explain the smell too, you finally realizing the strong smell of ink. You're not sure how you didn't notice it before.
You feel something slip into your hand.
It takes a moment, you curling your fingers loosely around the thing, for you to realize it feels like a hand. A human hand. You feel the instinct to rip your own back but just barely keep yourself from doing it, the thing curling its fingers around it as if it had never done as such before.
So.... it is a human? It didn't sound anything like one before..... It doesn't really feel like one either..
And why does the hand feel so.... malleable and wet? It feels like you could sink your fingers right into it with little resistance.
Your brows furrow, searching the dark for any answers to your questions. But you don't get anything.
You reach your other hand out slowly, pausing when you can feel the thing flinch away from you.
"It's okay," you assure, keeping your hand frozen where it's at. "I won't hurt you, I promise. You're safe."
You wait a few seconds before moving again, the thing not flinching away this time. You have to reach farther than you expected, your arm fully outstretched before reaching the thing. But your hand connects with it, surprising you by the way it feels.
It's.... a lot bigger than you expected, definitely not a stray animal. You're definitely not sure that it's human, it doesn't feel like one either... But it definitely feels more like a human than an animal, but sounds more like an animal than a human. It feels like it has bones, you realize, under a wet layer of something. It feels like a ribcage, you trailing your fingers up at the realization you found its chest. Your fingers hit something that more feels like cloth, tracing over it to find it's something like a bowtie. Going further up you find the thing's head, moving more carefully and slowly.
Its head is round. Much rounder than any human's should be. You can't reach the top from your position, trailing back towards the bottom of its head. You pause as the thing lets out a sound, recognizing it as a purr after a few seconds. So it doesn't mind you exploring, you guess. So you keep on going, eventually finding the thing's mouth. You pull back, gaining an annoyed growl from the thing and feeling it tighten its grip on your hand. You warily bring your hand back to the thing, tracing the wide grin across its face. Going a little more up you feel something dripping onto your hand, rolling across your skin like.... well not tar, but not quite water either. Faster than tar, but slower than water. Sticking slightly.
You have no idea what this thing is.
You pull your hand back again, the thing not liking it anymore this time than it did before. But you slowly rub your thumb against the back of the thing's hand, placating it enough for you to be able to reach the light switch, you finally remembered it existed, and flick the lights on.
It doesn't do much, but it does enough.
It startles the thing in front of you for one, making it jump back. But it pulls you forward by the grip it has on your hand, making you let out a startled yelp. It lets go of you and scrambles back further into the room, hissing the entire way. You shift back onto your knees, finally getting a look at this thing you found.
You have to shove down a scream, eyes widening at the sight.
It's literally made out of ink, or at least it looks like it is. It definitely has a thin frame, both the ribs and pelvis bone more pronounced than they should be on any living creature. Its head is circular, but with a U shape on top coming to points at the ends. The bowtie is sagging much farther down than it should be, one hand a large glove with four fingers in total. One foot is bigger than the other too, a startlingly large grin on its face.
A grin that is vibrating aggressively in time with the growl coming from the thing.
You put your hands up in surrender, eyes still wide and brows drawn in worry. You try to swallow down your fear and relax a little, get rid of any sign that could be mistaken as threatening.
How did your life get to this point? You're not sure.
"It's okay, it's okay." You clear your throat after it cracks, trying to get back to soothing instead of frightened. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I startled you, didn't I? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. You're okay, you're okay."
That seems to relax the thing a little bit, its shoulders lowering from the hunch it's curled into. It at least stops growling, the grin still vibrating on its face.
You hold out your hand, inviting it to come back over. You try not to let the tremor shake it.
"It's okay. I won't hurt you," you reassure, looking as sincere as you can. "I promise... Are you hurt?"
It doesn't answer one way or another, head tilted towards your hand. It tilts its head back up at you, then slowly shambles back, watching you carefully. It reaches out its own hand. You expected it to just take your hand once again, but instead it grabs your wrist which startles you a bit. But the thing just pulls your hand up to its head again, tilting it into your palm.
You look at it with wary confusion, petting it carefully. It purrs, relaxing slightly more at the motions. And watching the thing, looking over it once again, it finally clicks.
This thing... you think it’s supposed to be Bendy the Dancing Demon.