Henry was convinced that it was only his imagination when he first heard the whispers in the ink. He had been wandering around the old abandoned studio for and the things he had come across had put him on edge. So, of course, his mind would start making stuff up, especially when confronted by what appeared to be the corpse of one of his cartoon characters. So he had grabbed the wrench and gotten out of the room as quickly as possible, trying to push the room and everything in it out of his mind.
As the ink proved to be more than it appeared, sprouting all sorts of monsters out to kill him, Henry believed the whispers he heard were just his fear an paranoia. After all, when he had to watch every puddle of ink carefully just in case a monster was about to pop out of it, any normal person would start hearing things too. It wasn't until he met "Alice" that she gave him a hint that the whispers might not just be in his head.
"Do you know what it's like? Living in the dark puddles?" Alice asked, staring don out Henry from her side of the glass. "It a buzzing, screaming well of voices! Bits of your mind, swimming… like… like fish in a bowl!"
Even as Alice continued talking, Henry's mind came screeching to a halt as he tried to process what she had just said. The ink was a living mass, which made sense in retrospect. How else could all the monsters just pop out of the puddles? Henry shoved the implications of that aside and focused on the angle once more and the tasks she had for him.
But once he was trying to rescue Boris, Henry could no longer deny what the whispers in the ink were. Standing before him were a bunch of inky humans. They were just standing huddled together, crying and begging to go home. Henry had been suspecting for a while that all his old coworkers had been infected by the ink, but now before him was undeniable proof.
Henry felt sickened as he truly grasped the scale of Joey's crimes. There were so many of them here, and so many more still within the ink. How… How could Joey possibly have justified doing this to so many people? Henry slowly made his way through the crowd, trying to avoid all of the unnaturally yellow gazes following him. He briefly wondered if he had known any of these people personally from before.
Soon he had taken shelter in the vent and once he had past Bendy and into the other room. Henry finally allowed himself to cry. There were so many… so many… and they were all in so much pain… Henry could no longer deny that he heard the whispers in the ink. Now… now… he could hear the cries too…
AN: Be sure to check out my other Bendy stories and I'm also making a Bendy comic. You can check it out on my tumblr or deviantart.