Chapter 7: The Angel and the Artist

Allison lingered on the bench near Bertrum's carousel. The line was long, it always was. Fathers, mothers, children, and young couples in love all lined up to crawl into a spinning cart for a few minutes. She turned her gaze to the bacon soup stand, more families lined up for a taste. Bendy balloons floated by and the pavement was littered with confetti carnage and melted stains of ice cream.

She blended into the background, as interesting as a streetlamp or loose cobblestone brick to these people. She had the bench to herself, and yet still found herself sitting to the right. She left the space beside her open. Just in case Tom were to come along. Just in case he were to walk out of the woodwork. Wipe oil from his forehead, give her a nervous half smile. Sit beside her and listen to her lament about where she was and what she'd gone through. Then, he'd offer a few words of encouragement. He'd agree that Joey was an ass. He'd offer to buy her a cup of coffee. They'd laugh at some corny joke or pun. And then they'd be on their way. Back to work. Back to their lives.

She kept her gaze to the maintenance hatch around the corner. Waiting. Praying he really would walk through it. But when the door opened, another nameless worker walked through instead, and Allison let the stifling noise of the crowds drown out the pounding of her heartbeat.

"ALLISON ANGEL'S SHOW BEGINS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES! TICKETS ON SALE NOW!"

She glanced up at the TV monitor above her, Allison's cartoon form giggling and dancing back and forth. The perfect little angel with a voice like heaven.

A lie.

Bendy's show followed. He'd dance to music, play pranks, throw pies or reenact cartoons. Boris usually joined those shows. Bendy and Alice never had a show together, since they never appeared in the cartoons together. She wasn't quite as popular as him anyway, but she was getting there. There was a time Sammy said that Allison could thank herself for that. That she brought new "life" to the character.

Another lie.

Years ago, she stood beside Joey Drew and the other actors when they cut the golden ribbon for the park's grand opening. She'd put on her Sunday best. Alice, Bendy, and Boris also stood on the stage. Front and center, or course. Alice and the producers, donors, and Gent Corp. higher ups stood alongside each other, equal importance in Joey's eyes. Tom and the other workers were in the audience. Paid to cheer, of course, not that the cheers weren't already loud enough. Joey's smile had seemed earnest that day. There was a life in his eyes, a way that his smile rose that was just awkward enough to feel unscripted, to feel real, a laugh bubbling on the edge of his lips.

Allison was tired of lies.

She rose from the park bench and let her feet lead her toward Alice's show. She got in free since she was a worker. Would the little angel recognize her from the night before? Would she halt her show, mid song, to lunge at her from the stage? Would half of her face melt away into some ugly, awful abomination? That would certainly be something.

When she got to the building, Allison squeezed into the back, behind rows and crowds of people waiting for Alice's song. Allison still felt a bit numb to it all. She wasn't sure if it was only a few minutes until the show started, or half an hour. She hadn't even realized the show had started at all, until she caught herself mumbling the lyrics under her breath. That perfect little angel sang on stage, dancing back and forth, grabbing the microphone and laughing along as children clamored and cheered, loudly singing along with her. Sometimes, she brought a little girl or boy on stage with her, let them try their best to sing along or dance with her. The crowd would eat it up, shouting praises and exclamations of "how lifelike she seemed!"

Just as quickly as she arrived, Allison left the room. Staying in there with her was making her feel sick. Or maybe she was just disappointed nobody else saw the monster she had. Maybe she was disappointed that Alice hadn't leaped off the stage toward her in a murderous rage.

A drop of rain fell on her nose, making Allison's brow furrow for a moment before looking up. Clouds dotted the sky, sprinkling the ground and her hair, washing the ink she hadn't quite washed out yet away. It was cold and crisp, and other attendees rushed out of the quickly gathering downpour. Across the way, underneath an awning, Bendy looked down at the quickly growing puddles with a grin, but of course, he didn't leave the shelter of the cover. Ink and water didn't tend to mix well.

He looked up, catching Allison's apt stares, and waved.

She gritted her teeth, quickly walked passed him. He watched her, and as if to spite him, she took a short leap into one of the bigger puddles. His eyes followed her enviously, smile shaking for a moment, but she didn't linger. Her heart was beating too loudly now. At least he couldn't follow her in this rain.

Somehow, that made her feel better. And the rain poured harder. Cardboard cutouts were whisked away but shouting workers, trying to salvage all they could from the unexpected storm. Water pooled into drainage pipes, sinking down into the tunnels beneath the park, where they would fill up the side walls and stew about until they were eventually pumped out again. Most customers went home if it started to rain. After all, the main attractions couldn't come out to play.

Did anyone go missing on rainy days? Were people reported missing if the toons were contained in their buildings and studios? Could something so carefully built up be so easily dismantled by something as simple as rain?

Allison knew what she had to do. She knew what her plan was as the rain soaked into her skin, wet her down to her core and washed away her feelings of helplessness. She didn't know if she could find Tom anymore. She...she wasn't sure if there would be anything left to find. If Joey was covering up bodies, then the only way to crack this case open, to solve any of these mysterious, lay in the park itself.

So she was going to burn this whole place to the ground. And she knew where to start.

Allison pushed through the rain and ran to a phone booth. She dug into her wet pockets, digging out a few quarters to slip inside before dialing a number written hastily down on a water-stained piece of paper. The phone rang once, twice, before it clicked and a man's voice answered. "Hello?"

"Henry? My name is Allison Pendle. We need to talk."


Linda carefully set down a mug of tea in front of Allison. "My goodness, I still can't believe you walked half a block to get here," she mused. "You're soaked to the bone...but your clothes should be finished drying soon! I'm glad you're my size!" Linda said happily. Her voice was happy, in a low, grainy kind of way that reminded Allison of a violin.

Allison took the cup and smiled, the warmth of the tiny thing already making her icy hands feel better. "Thank you, you really didn't have to do that."

"It's no trouble! I'm just glad you could make it out here! Henry said it was important," Linda said, and took a seat beside Henry on the couch across from Allison.

The house was cute. She liked it. Framed pictures of the couple lined the walls in circle and square frames. The floral print couch the two sat on sagged a little, but in the way that made it feel used, appreciated. The coffee table was a lighter brown wood, and the few water rings made Allison smile. They didn't have a TV, which surprised Allison a little. She expected a former animator to have a TV to at least watch cartoons, but there was no such thing here, just shelves of books and a drawing desk in the corner gathering dust.

While Linda was a buzz of movement, moving coffee cups or straightening pillows, Henry was a wall, his hands resting at his sides. The only thing that moved were his eyes, which darted about the room without landing on her for more than a few moments. Linda was quick to fill the silence.

"I still can't believe it, getting to meet the voice behind Alice Angel. Henry doesn't like the little cartoons, but I catch a glimpse of them now at then and I just think they're adorable. And you do all the singing? You've got quite a voice!" she gushed. "Did you always want to be a voice actress?"

"An actress in general, actually," Allison said. "I, uh, started working at the studio in finances though. I shifted over to voice acting when a position opened up."

"Oh yeah I heard about that, the other actress went missing. Susie Campbell, right? I remember that being on the news for a while," Linda said. A buzz was heard from the other room, and Linda stood. "Oh! I'll go get your clothes!"

"Thank you," Allison said, watching the busy woman leave. She shifted awkwardly as the silence between her and Henry grew. She wasn't really sure what she was expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. It's not like he could blame her, though. They hadn't ever met before. Sure, they'd worked at the same studio, but at completely different points in time. He just...wasn't really what Allison was expecting. When she learned that the man who created the character of Bendy existed and quite the studio, she kind of imagined a man similar to Joey. Someone with big ideals and expectations, who left because Joey was stealing all of his credit. And, maybe that was the reason. But this man before her was nothing like Joey. Whereas Joey was all smiles and suits, Henry's face was somber. Quiet. Deep set wrinkles and dirty hands from working. His shirt, while clean, was wrinkled, and the collar was popped out on one side. He had a bit of facial hair too, his 5 o'clock shadow a start contrast from Joey's carefully trimmed features. It almost made Allison feel like she'd come to the wrong house. Maybe this was all a mistake after all.

She swallowed, realizing her throat was dry, and took a drink from her cup. It was good. The tea. She said so, and Henry nodded.

He sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. He glanced toward the laundry room, where Linda has disappeared to.

"You said something's wrong with Bendyland. What do you mean?" he asked.

"I guess I...well..." she ran a hand through her hair. Still wet, so it surprised her. "Have you...have you been to the park?"

"No," he said.

"But you've, you've seen them. The toons?"

"No."

"...really? You created Bendy, didn't you?"

Henry looked toward his drawing table. Scattered notes, papers, and empty inkwells stared back at him. "Yeah. I did. Doesn't mean it feels right to see him come to life. He was just...he was just a doodle. And now he's living and breathing. How's that supposed to make me feel? I mean, you get it, right? You voice Alice Angel for years, then suddenly she's staring back at you?"

That was true. It was crazy. Surreal. Something out of a fantasy novel. She didn't blame Henry for being hesitant.

"Plus, Joey and I don't really talk anymore. I don't want to run into him by accident. But back to the park. What's wrong with it, and why do you think I can help?"

"Something's wrong. With the park, with the toons, with Joey, everything."

And so she told him. Everything. Everything she'd seen up until this point. She hadn't intended to. She'd just intended to tell him the basics. She didn't want her stories to sound unbelievable, but Henry's expressionless face, free of judgement, urged her to continue every time she hesitated. Linda drifted in and out of the room, a quiet look from Henry silencing Allison's story until she left again. She pretended she understood that.

"And now, my best friend Tom is missing. Toons are dying, children and families are disappearing, and at night, the toons transform into monsters." Allison put her hand to her forehead and rubbed her temples. "I know it sounds ridiculous. I know. I wouldn't believe me either. But I promise, it's the truth, and I don't know what to do. I thought about going to the police, but if Joey's been covering up missing people in the park, the police have to already be involved. With as much money as the park makes, I wouldn't doubt they've been paid off. And I know it sounds like one big conspiracy, but I...I'm scared."

"So why come to me?" Henry asked quietly. She still couldn't read his face. It was driving her mad that she hadn't squeezed out even a single reaction from him. Not so much as a raised eyebrow. She wanted something to indicate that he at least believed her. Something.

"I didn't know where else to go," she said. "You left the studio before anyone else. You got out while the rest of us were blinded by Joey's promises of dreams and fame. Why? What did you see that none of us did?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, letting it out through his mouth in a half-broken sigh. "Just a man I once called a friend slipping into madness. Back then, the studio was failing. Joey had big ideas, but not enough money to back it up. I was often the one he confided it, but back then, I stopped agreeing with him. Things were changing. It wasn't just the two of us talking about our dreams of making it big. It was the boss talking to just another one of his lackey's. I guess I thought I was more than that to him, but he was willing to sacrifice anything for his dreams. I guess I just lost sight of the dream. So I left. Turned in my resignation." Henry opened his eyes. There was something sad behind them. "I'll never forget Joey's face when I handed him those papers. I watched the last remains of my friend die in his eyes. I watched his face grow cold as his last friend abandoned him."

"So...you never even saw the ink machine?" Allison asked.

"I don't even know what that is," Henry admitted. "I'm sorry, Allison. I...I'd like to believe you. Maybe deep down I do. I believe that Joey would be willing to anything to reach his dreams. And now that he's got them, I believe that he'd do anything to keep ahold of them. Even...even cover things up. Even work with things that may not be morally right."

"Then you have to help me!" Allison said. "Listen to me Henry, we need to shut this park down, this whole thing, we have to shut it down. We have to. Those toons aren't natural, and I think if we show people the monsters that really lurk after dark, Joey Drew Studios will be gone. For good. We could-"

"No."

Allison trailed off, and silence filled the room. Her face fell.

"I'm sorry, Allison. If I believe you, if I believe that something bigger is going on here, then I have to believe that there are monsters in that park. I have to believe that Joey is one of them. I can't do that. I can't put myself in that kind of situation. Not right now."

She opened her mouth again, but the sharp wail of a baby slammed it shut. Henry stood. He looked down at her pityingly.

He did believe her. She could see it in his eyes. That's what made it all the harder for him to say no. He started to leave the room. "Linda will get you your dry clothes."

"You started this too," Allison said sharply, and Henry paused in the doorway. Allison rose from the couch, her hands clenching into fists. "You...you created those things. You should feel just as responsible for this. You should help me make things right."

"...goodbye, Allison," Henry said, and walked out of the room, toward the sound of a baby wailing.

Linda walked into the room with a hum, holding out Allison's nicely folded and warm clothes for her. "Here you are! Please be careful out there in the rain, alright?"

Allison looked up at her, this woman, with her warm features and smiling face, and felt bad for what she'd said to Henry. If she were in his shoes, if she had found a way to get away with Tom, or anyone, to forget about the studio and Joey and everything to form a life of her own, she wouldn't want to look back either.

But Allison didn't have that option. So she thanked Linda for her kindness, changed into her dry clothes, and started to leave. Henry and Linda were in the kitchen as she walked out, each trying to sooth the wailing child.

"Try singing to her," Allison said softly.

Henry turned toward her over his shoulder, but no further.

She offered a small smile. An apology. "Works for me."

She closed the door gently behind her, walking out to her car as thunder rumbled overhead. The storm was only just beginning.


Henry watched her go, rocking the small baby in his arms, who was only just now starting to calm down. Linda placed her hands on his shoulders. "Is everything alright, Henry?" she asked.

He turned to her and smiled, using his one free hand to cup her cheek. She smiled and leaned into it, loving the feeling of his hands, calloused from gripping too many pens and pencils. "Yeah. She just had a few questions about Joey."

"And the park?"

He nodded. "She wanted me to go with her. Check it out a little."

"But you said no." She frowned. "Henry...what's wrong? Why do you look so troubled?"

"Just more demons I'd rather forget," he said. He looked down at the baby in his arms and smiled. "I'd rather focus on the angels in front of me."

Linda sighed, but smiled. "You're a man of many demons, Henry. Sooner or later, you'll have to face them. You know that, right?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Maybe tomorrow."

She laughed, bringing a smile to his face. He didn't need to face the past. He didn't need to go back to that studio, especially if what Allison said was true. He didn't need to see Bendy and the others, or face Joey. He didn't need to set things right. He hadn't wronged them in the first place. How hard had he pushed Joey? How hard had he pushed and pushed, trying to help him see the truth of things? Were they expecting him to go back to that place, push harder? No. He was tired. He had a family now. He wasn't going back. But as he set his daughter back down in her crib, watched her tiny fingers curl around his own while Linda hummed in the other room, he felt his chest tighten.

He was her father. Half of her creator. She needed him, for now, anyway. He was going to be there to help her grow up, raise her, watch her become whoever she wanted to be.

Bendy. Boris. They were different. They were.

Just because he drew them doesn't mean he was responsible for them. They were just thoughts. Ideas. Whatever Joey had cooked up in his studio was a separate mess entirely, and Henry didn't need to feel guilty. If it was up to him, he'd go back in time and erase the whole thing.

He wished it were that easy to erase the past, to erase ink. But it wasn't, and no matter what Henry told himself, he knew that without him, there would be no Bendy. How big or little responsibility was placed on him as a result was yet to be seen, but he did feel at least partially responsible.

"Joey...just what have you done this time?" Henry whispered.

Maybe...maybe he didn't have to go to the park after all. Maybe he just needed to phone an old friend.


I LIVE! Hehe, sorry, I took a vacation to Florida so I didn't get much time to write. But while I was there, we got our first BATDR trailer! Holy heck Batman! Honestly, I am so excited for this new game I can barely stand it. Gotta contain all of my excitement and theories for now though! Thanks for reading this chapter of Welcome to Bendyland, and look forward to the next chapter, coming out soon!