Alone in a hospital bed in the darkness of the night, the scent of disinfectant stinging at his nostrils, a five-year-old boy lay wide awake as one thought cycled constantly through his mind. He hadn't had much schooling yet, but this fact was one he was certain of.
He didn't want to die.
The doctors wouldn't say what was wrong with him. Not to him, at least. They just kept telling him what a brave little boy he was. How his fighter attitude was bound to get him better sooner or later. But he wasn't deaf to their hushed remarks at his bedside – the whispered conversations they had with his mom and dad when they thought he was sleeping. He had no idea who "Polly O" was, but she certainly didn't seem very nice. It was her that had made him sick... put him into this scary, lonely place for what felt like a lifetime. What had he done wrong to her?
He gazed upwards, too terrified to close his exhausted eyes in case they never opened again. He even blinked as fast as he possibly could, just to make sure that his eyes weren't shut for a moment longer than necessary: the white plaster ceiling having become a most reassuring sight.
Ceiling. Blink. Ceiling. Blink. Ceiling. Blink.
A smile.
Joey's eyes grew wider than ever. He sat bolt upright in terror, his mouth opening in a scream – muffled when a soft gloved hand was rapidly clapped over it.
Sitting there, on his bed, was a black-and-white, boy-sized creature with dark pie-cut eyes – two horns atop its head.
"Hey, Joey!"
It was a happy voice. Friendly and kind – rather like something he'd hear from his classmates in the playground at recess. All the same, it didn't stop Joey from looking around the ward frantically, searching eagerly for a passing doctor or nurse.
His efforts emitted giggles from his bizarre visitor.
"You're really funny, Joey!" it said. "It's OK. I'm your pal."
"My... my pal?" Joey repeated, astounded.
"That's right. I came here special - just to see you. I'm your new best buddy, Bendy."
"Bendy?"
The creature nodded. Titling his head sideways, he looked at Joey with a puzzled expression.
"What are you even doing here?" he asked.
"I'm... I'm real sick," Joey explained. "I... I'm scared that I might die. I don't think the doctors can make me better."
"Don't worry!" Bendy told him in enthused tones. "I'll make you better!"
"What - really?"
"Sure I can, pal! I mean – if you want me to?"
"Yes, of course!"
"Okey dokey, pal. You just have to make me a little promise first."
Joey hesitated. His mother had always told him never to make a promise that you couldn't keep. Besides, he had no clue who this Bendy creature was, or where he had even come from. He didn't seem... earthly. But, if he could get him out of this horrible hospital, he was willing to at least listen to what he had to say.
"What's the promise?" he asked, intrigued.
"You'll get all better, and be really famous one day," Bendy explained. "You'll be able to draw real good, and make cartoons. But, when you draw, you have to draw me. You have to make me famous too, Joey. If you promise to do that, and to do anything else I tell you, then I promise you that you'll have a great life."
Grinning, he extended his glove hand towards him.
"So... do we have a deal, pal?"
Right away, Joey clasped Bendy's hand in his, shaking it tightly.
One week later, the doctors would say it was a miracle. The boy had been close to death. Now, all traces of the polio had vanished from his body... except for a defect in his left foot. It was withered and slightly twisted – not uncommon in suffers of this ailment. He would need the assistance of a cane, and sometimes a wheelchair, for the rest of his life. But, when all was said and done, he still had his life. A limp and some loss of balance were very small prices to pay.
From the moment he arrived back home, Joey started to honour his end of the bargain. Throughout the remainder of his childhood, he filled countless notebooks with sketches and doodles of the demonic-looking darling who had cured him entirely (well, almost) of his affliction, practising constantly to try and get every detail just right.
He kept it up during high school. Then through college, where he went to study fine art. When a fellow student, Henry Stein, spotted Joey doodling the demon on a napkin in the cafeteria one lunchtime, he paid his compliments – striking up a conversation in the process.
From that first meeting, a friendship had quickly blossomed, and by the time of their graduation, Joey, determined to open up his own animation studio, invited Henry to come and work with him. Together, they went on to create an entire cast of crazy characters to fill up their new Sillyvision productions – but Bendy would always be, without fail, the central figure in each adventure. Joey insisted on it.
When a curious Henry asked the reason why, Joey's answer was a confusing one.
It was, he said, a tribute to a very dear friend.