![]() It was such a shock to his system that he barely had time to scream before he fell unconscious. Heavily, he crashed to the floor where the impact was indelicate to his injury, sending his otherwise dark vision white with pain and his hearing buzzing. His foot caught on some hidden thing and he tripped. And yet, here he was, stumbling down a corridor he could barely see, praying he’d run into the animator or his old friends, Boris and Alice, praying for their help. It felt strange thinking of the old man as anything but a traitor, an abandoner, or trouble-maker. His breathing was heavy as he struggled to stay above the agony, to stop himself from screaming, and to focus on his goal. He could feel the ink beneath his fingers squishing at the lightest of touches, sending his whole head ablaze with pain again. The new Henry blinked at him before picking up his axe and walking out to find his target, leaving Joey alone with the Ink Machine.īendy ran his hand along the wall as he stumbled down the corridor his other hand cradled his face. “There is another Bendy here with a melted face. He stood before the new version of his old friend and stared him squarely in the eyes. “Not the brightest one in the bunch, are ya?” Joey muttered darkly. Only one stayed behind, the only one who still hadn’t moved. Without a word, they marched out of the room and disappeared into the studio. The toons all blinked at him in unison before nodding their heads. Humming quietly to himself, he pushed his toons to arm’s length and looked deeply into their eyes, making sure they were paying attention. “No… I suppose it would have been strange coming from you, old pal,” Joey smiled to animator, who merely blinked back at him in response. Henry stared back at him with a blank, expressionless face. He looked over to his last creation, the one that hadn’t moved from its spawning point. They each embraced him, like children to their parent, and he fondly returned their affection, their devotion. One by one, Bendy, Boris and Alice all crowded around him. And, they wouldn’t betray him like their previous incarnations he’d made sure of that. As each creature rose and stood before him, their ink began to take form, moulding in the shapes he desired. And, sure enough, they were pulling themselves out of the ink as he stopped before them. Leaning heavily on his cane and pocketing his little black book, he walked round to the front of the machine to see his newest creations. Using the machine always left him weary, as if it sucked all the energy out of him and left him weak. Drawing a handkerchief from nowhere, Joey mopped the sweat off his brow as he stumbled slightly, moving away from the controls. With a spin of the last valve, the Ink Machine fell silent, its many moving parts slowing to motionlessness before its great creator. Squiggly has also done some illustrations for this, which is so awesome and they look so good! I only published this a couple of days ago on deviantart! This is a continuation of Choose Your Own Villain, and is in line with Squiggly’s lore post, and with reference to cyber-flow’s fanfic. Honestly, I had wanted to post this story on both sites at the same time, but I was on holiday and the internet sucked big time. Anything posted now will be at the same time as my deviantart. 7th story for and I’m now caught up on my collection.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |