Boris looks on in fear at the being of dripping ink posing as his once best friend, the person he picked on for their size, the one person who understood him, taken from him by the one they known for a long time as the creator. "Hello Boris…." says the black liquide fiend whose body is that of a misshapen humanoid with a wide cartoonic smirk with big huge gloves to accompany it. "Its me, ya old pal bendy" continued the inky black monster
Even more creatures of ink crawls out of the walls, floors and sloshing lakes of ink. Majority being a shapeless blob but a few of them stands out ones a man wearing a bendy cardboard cut out mask and large overalls, another being looks to been in a torture chamber and looks awfully tired, with a projection camera head, reels of film jutting out from parts of his body with the film wrapping around him like some sorta chain, the last being seem to be one ofthe worst attempts at creating an angel that Boris hypothesis was once another person he known as Alice angel, wearing a black dress with gloves that nears her shoulders, her halo partly jammed into her head crookedly. He even had a hard time noticing the misshapen butcher gang.
Boris couldn't believe what he was seeing, his heart beating heart slowly increases its tempo. 'How could this happen' questioned the poor wolf toon in his head unable to understand what's happening but the one thing was clear, the man before him was not Bendy, just a wicked man stealing the skin of his old chum, the man who killed his bestie, a silly man who is less than aware of Boris next steps. Boris turns and runs down an old hallway recently used, but the inky fiend followed in pursuit with an animalistic growl of a predator after its prey.
Boris kept running, his long legs making more distance than the gaining jog of the skin stealer behind him slowly gaining. Boris known what he must do, he could care less about the risk, he only wanted to stop this silly nonsense before its gets worse. Yes, "silly's" the word to fit this situation, a man with a ridiculous scheme to cheat death, a man who would make a deal with the devil, the idea is seems silly to Boris. Bendy was no devil, just a dancing demon.
The ink machines lever within the break room comes into Boris's view as he turns the corner,But just mere inches from the switch a pointed hand grabs his hind leg thus dragging him further back, Boris looks behind with horror stricken eyes at the snickering ink mass holding him back. "Nawawawa, bad Boris. No touchy lever." taunted the demon maliciously. Boris slowly strains his arm towards the lever in bane.
Satan's inky cousins grip loosens a little shocking the demon itself. Boris's hand swipes down on the lever befor he looks back to see a second head much more friendlier than the first, protruding from the fiends neck as the slow tumbling of a machine deactivating echos through the hall. This head, was the head of the dancing demon himself, smiling at his wolfish friend for the finale time with a sad grin. The building begins to tremble, both the fiend and bendy slowy starts to drip through the floor, eventually the same does Borise. Shrieks and screams filled the halls as it slowly comes to the end. Nothing left wandering the halls till 10 years later the entrance to silly vision once again opens, and standing there was a 48 year old man named henry. And ain't he in for the time of his life.