Ink chugged out of the clunking machine slowly, glinting in the harsh light of the ceiling lamps. A small cartoonish figure was forming in the glass casing in the hallway, a man peering in with hopeful eyes.

Would this crazy, absurd plan actually work?

Everything was wrong.

One minute he was minding his own business (which on its own was quite undemonly of him, just like everything else) and the next reality distorted and stretched like taffy.

He felt a falling sensation as everything twisted like a kaleidoscope, waves of panic and confusion flowing through the demon. Then, reality snapped back into place but it still felt wrong.

Nothing was flat anymore, and it hurt to look at or think about. Feeling flowed back into his numb body, but everything was too much, too deep, too…different. The influx of the new senses threatened to make him faint, his sight blurring with black spots and bright lights. A muted thundering noise played in the background, with faint plops that staccatoed against his head.

His thin legs crumpled, collapsing to his shaking knees with a cry of pain and confusion, with what looked like ink swirling around his unstable form. His muscles seized and spasmed about, fingers and toes clenching and unclenching at random. His tail lashed out and struck a wall, eliciting a yelp of pain from the small demon.

He finally looked up, chest shuddering in slight panic as he gazed around the area. The demon was in some sort of box-like container, and black ink was pouring down the sides of it from a spout-like ceiling. It dripped and splatted wetly against his horns, which he realized with some slight panic were drooping and dripping...like the ink. Was he...melting? His bowtie, boots, and gloves were in the same state, nearly half-liquid with their whiteness barely forming in the swirl of black ink pooling around him.

The ink which was rapidly starting to rise, flowing over his eyes and forcing them shut from the sudden stinging. A jolt of anxiety made him realize that he needed to get out.

Out!

The demon frantically clawed at the wall in front of him, slimy fingers blindly scrabbling for some sort of release mechanism.

They simply slid down what he soon realized was a smooth glass viewport, hitting no resistance. No latch, lock or anything! There was none that his quivering digits could find, meaning he was trapped inside this tiny container.

He couldn't get out…!

Fear exploded in his chest with a shriek and he lashed out, battering the unyielding door with his dripping fists. The ink pool rose higher around his form, reaching his waist, and he went at it for a second round of desperate clawing. He slid back down, panting, ink stinging his eyes. He was going to drown here. Sweet morningstar he was going to die…!

It was too much for the poor devil to handle, letting out a keening wail, inky tears forming on his obscured face and mouth spastically trembling in fright, no longer his usual grin. Bendy the Dancing Demon, one of the spawn of Lucifer himself, was crying.

The inkflow above him slowed to a drip (he wasn't going to drown? he wondered distantly through his all consuming panic), finally letting him gaze, terrified and frozen, at something outside his tiny prison. He flinched at the sheer depth it had, the visual differences giving him a pounding headache.

It looked sort of similar to a toon, but distorted in ways. It had that weird depth and didn't have the soft, flexible look one of his kind did. The hands had too many fingers and the flesh was off somehow. The tones didn't fit, and were almost...more...than Bendy was used to seeing. The face had tiny, too-round pupils and there were no notches anywhere! No outlines at all on the whole thing!

That last part was just eerie and unnatural, almost more so than the depth issue.

The person got a shocked look on their face and started fiddling with something to the side, the pool of ink he was hunched in suddenly, but thankfully, draining out. The glass door opened with a hiss, leaving the devil to shuffle into a corner away from the person. Bendy clutched his knees tightly and began hiccuping in fear as they drew closer.

"Hey, buddy," came a soft, yet gruff voice. "It's okay...it's okay…"

The demon spared a quick glance upwards. The man (the voice was a dead giveaway) approached with care, hands facing palm out like he was trying to calm a raging lion. Another hiccup forced its way out of his mouth, and he rubbed away the ink over his face, more tears threatening to pour out.

Thankfully, his body finally decided to stop its leaking, stabilizing into a more solid form. His gloves and boots took shape in all their toony glory, along with his white bowtie. It suddenly felt like the tie was choking him, despite having no neck. His hand went to his mouth as his cheeks comically swelled before vomiting.

A shudder went through Bendy as he hacked up a particularly thick glob of ink onto the floor of the tiny container, coughing out smaller streams of the black liquid until there was nothing left. It had a disgustingly acidic taste to it as the ink trickled out of his teeth. The toon's body trembled as he dry-heaved, tears coming down his cheeks in rivulets. A hand awkwardly patted his back as this admittedly embarrassing display went on.

The man muttered calming things to the little devil as he took him in his arms. Bendy shivered and quivered in stress and from the cold, finally collapsing against the man's chest in exhaustion.

Thomas Connor didn't know what to think.

Against all odds, against all common sense, he had a living, breathing, terrified cartoon that had just fainted on him. However unnatural the thing looked, he was clearly a sentient being.

The fear he'd seen in those trembling notched eyes was evident enough.

Thomas sighed and shifted the demon so he could pinch his nose. I don't get paid enough to put up with this kind of crap, Joey Drew! he silently raged.

He hauled up the unconscious toon onto his shoulder, being careful not to jostle him too much. Now, where could Thomas put him that someone would think twice about going to?

Thomas darted around the halls, quickly peeking around corners to make sure no one saw them. Coast seemingly clear, his heart stopped thundering so hard against his ribcage. The mechanic ducked into the spare medical room with his demonic luggage in tow, quietly locking the door behind him with a relieved sigh.

Since the oh-so-wise Joey Drew enacted that policy (whoever gets found faking illness on the job would be docked pay), literally no one who was even remotely attached to their job came to this place. Probably afraid the big guy would think they were just pretending, even if they actually were sick, he thought wryly.

In any case, it was free of prying eyes and full of empty beds.

Tom dumped Bendy on the nearest bed and stretched, popping his back in one smooth motion. "Dang, that felt good," he muttered.

The sudden noise woke the demon with a start, sitting up in an instant with a loud TWANG, tail straightening out in alarm.

"Who- where- what's happenin'!" He screeched in with his eyes squinted shut, fists balling into a mock boxer stance. "Lemme at 'em!"

Against his will, Tom's mouth quirked upwards a little. Inside, he was still freaking out because there was a cartoon demon right in front of him, who was now awake. He took a deep breath to calm his jitters, only to be interrupted by the gasp of shock directed at him.

Bendy was staring at him with fear in his big notched eyes, reaching up and tugging at his bowtie, gulping. "So it wuzna dream…"

Thomas grimaced. "Believe me, I'd love if it were."

They entered a period of awkward silence, studying each other. The demon wrung his hands together, eyes flicking everywhere and a look of anxiety on his face that just screamed that he'd rather be anywhere else. Thomas sat on a nearby bed and cleared his throat, making the toon jump. At least three feet in the air.

Giving Bendy a bewildered look, the mechanic sighed, holding out his hand. "Hi, my name's Thomas Connor, mechanic and all around human. And you?"

As if a switch was flicked, the demon's anxious demeanor transformed into a happy and cheery one, that trademark grin spreading across his face like a wildfire. He leapt off the bed and was up to Thomas in an instant, straightening his bowtie and clasping the human's hands with his own gloved ones.

"Nice ta meetcha Tom, it's a real treat!" He exclaimed, shaking hands so quickly they became a blur. "Call me Bendy, Bendy Demon! An all around toon here!"