When Sammy came to, he found himself lying on the floor in his office, where he'd passed out. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized he was not, in fact, dead or dissolved into a puddle on the floor, as he feared he would if he ever fell asleep. That, coupled with a terrible lurking feeling of unease that seemed to increase when he had nothing to focus on, had kept him from falling asleep in the many years he'd been trapped down there. Luckily, it seemed like his body didn't require sleep to keep living. His relief soon turned into confusion as what he was lying in caught his attention - a pentagram, ink freshly drawn. This was worrying, because as far as he knew he was the only one in the studio with enough sentience and dexterity to draw pentagrams. So a pentagram he had no memory of drawing was quite...worrying...memory...his memories. For the first time since waking up, he fully thought about himself, whether he had changed at all and...and...
Memories. His memories. They were...they were coming back...memories of before the machine, before the studio even! Sammy felt a smile creep up his face, then felt it twist downwards as pain invaded his head like a raging fire. He clutched his head, a scream tearing out of his mouth, as memory after memory poured into his head, overwhelming him and wiping any thoughts milliseconds after they appeared. He just couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle it!
Overtime the burning fire cooled, and he was left lying on the floor yet again. But the memories remained, and although his head didn't feel like it was going to implode, it was still a lot to take in. His life before the horrors committed in the studio, it was all there. He...he had a family, a lover! People who liked him, people who loved him, people who...hadn't looked for him.
That realization hit him hard. If he'd had people who'd cared for him, and loved him, why had no one entered the studio? Surely, surely someone figured out he was still trapped in the studio, they must have! Where else could he be? Unless...they thought he was dead. In a way, for a while he had been dead, almost no memory of who he'd been, who he'd known, only the knowledge that he had to get free, and the only thing that could set him free was the powerful being lurking in the pipes and shadows.
Bendy...He felt a pang of guilt shake his rapidly destabilising form. In his excitement, he had forgotten his Lord. All thoughts of the demon being unfair were forgotten as he considered his saviour being the deliverer of these lost memories. Yes, yes! It must be Bendy, his Lord was pleased with him. Those cold fits...they were a test! Yes, that was it. Sammy had survived the test, and these memories were a reward! His mind lost focus on the possibility that his loved ones thought he was dead, and instead he busied himself with kneeling near the cut-out outside his office, and yelling joyous prayers for the demon. Oh what a generous Lord! This was better than any other gift his Lord had given him (among which were the suspenders he wore, the mask, and knowledge of the different pentagrams needed to please his Lord), this was a revelation of immense proportions!
An hour was spent praying and drawing new pentagrams, before his attention was drawn back to the one he'd woken up in. It must have had a connection to his regained memories (which he still had yet to sit down and really look through, being preoccupied with discovering the existence of relationships before the studio, and then praising Bendy), so...what was that connection. It couldn't have been Bendy that actually drew the pentagram. As brilliant as his Lord was, the glorious ink that made up Bendy made it impossible for the demon to draw a pentagram without smudging and messing it up. Sammy had the same problem, back when he first had the idea of appealing to Bendy to set him free, before he gained some semblance of control of whether the ink dripped from his hands and arms. However had he tried, though, he couldn't reform his legs and feet into something human-looking. It made putting on the clothes he had very difficult. Thankfully, there wasn't much need to take of his clothes in the studio, so that problem didn't arise very often
So the pentagram couldn't be the work of his saviour, or it would be smudged and surrounded with claw marks. None of the searchers could have drawn it. Sammy wasn't sure how much sentience they had, or even where they came from, but they definitely couldn't draw a round circle, let alone an intricate demonic one. That left...well, that left no one. Unless...Sammy rushed to the normally shut off area of the music department. The room had a pole in the middle of it, in preparation of any unfortunate soul caught wandering round the studio that looked like the perfect sacrifice for his Lord. He ran past the pole (well, less ran and more speed-walked as fast as his gloopy feet would allow) and into the long corridor, ducking underneath planks on wood. Sliding round the corner, he came face to face (or face to mask - before he began praying he'd put his mask back on, to show respect to the demon who'd given him so much) with...an empty corridor. The same corridor that had, for the past 30 years or so, been filled with ink and broken planks of wood, completely blocked off even to him. Now there wasn't even a scrap of evidence that this hallway had ever been blocked off. Sammy took a deep breath - he was nervous, this was a part of the studio even his returned memories were hazy about. He'd stayed far away from it, because he...what was that reason? It was there, just unclear, like he needed to look a bit closer, focus a bit more...
With a jolt of fear, Sammy noticed his vision darkening round the edges again. No! No! He was just about to enter a new place for the first time in so many years! He couldn't pass out now! But, as his body crumpled and fell to the floor, he didn't feel the void of unconscious pulling his mind into its grasp. Instead, he felt a memory getting clearer and clearer, and the answer to what was happening became clear as well.
He was about to have a flashback.