As promised, I have returned with the sequel to "The Assistant." I do recommend, if you haven't already, read "The Assistant" first before reading "He Will Set Us Free," as it may confuse you if read them out of order.
Also, you will notice that it bounces back and forth between povs (Point of Views), primarily there is a lot that will be going on, so get ready for a bumpy ride...
As always, Comments and Favs are appreciated. It'll keep this demon smiling...
Darkness had ruled the studio for many years. Most of those who lived and thrived in the darkness had lost count, though only one knew the exact time it had been since the studio had gone quiet.
Thirty-two years, five months, four days, six hours, twenty-seven minutes, and thirty seconds…
Even so, the demon knew deep in it's heart, wherever it was under this black inky prison of a body, that until their false creator was destroyed or the ink machine, they could never be free.
Perhaps Sammy was right… he just had the wrong idea of who would set them free. The demon couldn't… if things were different, maybe.
The demon let out a sigh, watching as a puff of air followed from it's mouth. It was cold in these parts of the studio, but it never felt anything. Heat nor cold could affect the creature as it walked on it's goat-like legs, hooves pounding the floor wherever it went.
Shadows watched as it passed through, creating an ink webbing across the walls until it reached it's destination.
In the furthest parts of the studio was what the demon called a memorial chamber. Black and white photos hung from the walls while a few candles lit the room, offering a bit of warmth and solace to those who had passed away under his care. Flowers, created from the demon's ink, filled the room, leaving the over-powering odor of fresh ink and old paper.
The demon reached out and touched one lone photo of a woman with dark hair and bright eyes. She sat sideways, her head tilted toward the photographer as the photo had been snapped. A small smile marred her lips, keeping her from looking almost ghost-like.
"You miss her… don't you?"
The demon turned to see an angel and a wolf standing in the doorway. The angel wore a short black dress, black combat boots, and a belt strapped to her chest and her waist. A sword hung at her side, dripping with fresh ink. Her black hair was pulled back by a hair tie while two white horns, filed slightly, protruded from either side of her head. The wolf wore a set of white overalls, covered in ink as well, with a black belt strapped across his thin chest. A mechanical arm rested at his side, gripping a Gent wrench firmly in the mechanical hand.
The demon chuckled, "How could I not? She… was so much like Henry."
"I recall a bit of her," the wolf grinned, "Quite a knack for getting herself in and out of trouble… I wish she was here."
The demon turned back to the photo. It wasn't time, not yet, to reveal the true secret. After all, they had all the time in the world.
But, fate was a fickle thing and could change at any moment.
It was then that a loud roar was hear from above, shaking the wooden beams on the floor, walls, and ceiling. Allison and Tom ducked to floor as splinters fell from above. The demon covered itself, catching the faintest sounds of machinery starting up.
But… the studio had been quite for so many years… who in their right mind would…?
"Bendy," the demon turned as the angel spoke, "What was that?"
"Someone's in the studio… and they turned the Ink Machine on."
