The gloom was almost as black as the splatters of ink that drenched the walls and floor. Henry refused to think of where it might have come from.

The once cheerful and bright place gave off such a dark, demented atmosphere, it took everything in Henry not to turn tail and run. He had a mission, and he was going to go through with it even if it was the last thing he did. Oh, he really hoped it wasn't the last thing he did.

Even after all these years, Henry still knew the studio like the back of his hand. First, he checked Joey's office. Henry scanned the room with the flashlight he brought. Upon lighting up the back wall, where dozens of papers hung, he stopped dead. There were detailed drawings of things that made Henry wish he never opened the door. He now knew exactly what Joey meant by more invasive actions.

Henry stumbled out of the room as fast as he could, leaning heavily on the hallway wall, panting and trembling while struggling to keep his lunch from making an appearance. Soon, tears began falling from the man's eyes and he covered them with his sleeve to stem the flow.

His suspicions were confirmed. Joey really has been experimenting in his creations, and for who knew how long. He hoped it was a recent development, but the sinking feeling in Henry's stomach told him a different story. It took Henry several attempts to calm himself down, but he eventually succeeded. With renewed determination to find and rescue his friends, Henry pushed away from the wall he leaned against and quickly left the foyer and entered the corridor that branched off to the right. He had a hunch that he was going the right direction, because as soon as his eyes adjusted to the darker space, he noticed a trail of ink smeared on the floor, and small hand prints of it on the wall.

He looked into each room that was unlocked and not boarded up, both hoping and dreading to find a clue as to what happened to the beloved characters that used to live here happily. It was the same thing over and over. old offices, still strewn with papers depicting Bendy and Boris, all smiles and play.

Finally, at the end of the hall stood a pair of double doors. Henry knew what was beyond, the Ink Machine. Joey's greatest creation. With it he made his cartoon a reality, gave his characters bodies to dwell in and lives to live. Henry had thought Joey loved his creations.

With a deep breath, Henry steeled himself for what he might see behind those doors. He had a feeling that he'd find something, but he didn't know if he would like it. With a mighty shove, the doors parted and revealed what lay within.

The Ink Machine, in all its glory stood in a dim spotlight, silent and dead and obviously turned off. This was what physically created Bendy and Boris, but Henry's knowledge of the machine stopped there. Joey never revealed exactly how he had built the thing, nor how to turn it on.

Henry tore his eyes from the thing that produced two of the most fantastic and unbelievable beings in existence, and scanned the rest of the room. Aside from the dim light shining down on the machine, the room was dark, but Henry could see a strange lump of something in the far corner. He didn't know if it was the lack of lighting, but he swore that the lump was moving.

Heart pounding in his chest, Henry approached the dark object. As he neared, he began to see it clearly. It was a puddle of ink, with a black mass in the center. When Henry finally stood right beside the thing, it twitched and groaned, turning over to reveal-

"Bendy!"