Summary: (Parody of Bendy and the Ink Machine) The gang decide to explore an abandoned animation studio, only to discover that it's not quite as abandoned as they thought.
For those of you who have never played/heard of Bendy and the Ink Machine (which would make a good band name, come to think of it), don't fret. You don't have to know anything about the game to read this. Those who have played/are planning to play, there are mild spoilers but nothing too serious. After all, the game's only got two chapters as I post this, so there's not much to spoil quite yet.
To say that the building before them was in a state of disrepair would have been an understatement. The walls were peeling in some places and just plain broken in others. Windows were either boarded up or smashed. Just above the door, the sign reading "Don Whimsy Studios" was faded to near illegibility, tilted harshly, and seemed to be clinging to a single rusted screw for dear life. Oh, never mind. It just fell off.
Foop was the first to break the confused silence. "Mother, why are we stopping here?"
Anti-Wanda flew excitedly in front of the children, as the kids continued gazing curiously at the structure. "Don't y'all know what this is?"
"Something out of a low-budget horror movie?" Brenda suggested.
Anti-Wanda shoved her playfully. "No, silly. It's Don Whimsy Studios! Scary World's most famous animation studio! This is the place where they made my favorite cartoon: Bobby the Dancing Devil. It was the most popular cartoon ever! At least until that cartoon mouse came into the picture."
"Well, it doesn't look very popular now," Anti-Goldie pointed out.
"Yeah, it got shut down a couple hundred years ago," Anti-Wanda informed. "No one really knows why."
As she flew toward the building, her son asked, "Uh, what are you doing?"
Anti-Wanda turned around and grinned. "Ain't y'all curious? Don't ya wanna see inside?"
"I don't know, Anti-Wanda," Brenda said, eyeing the building wearily. "I've got a bad feeling about this place."
"Oh, hush. It's an old, decrepit animation studio in the heart of Scary World that was shut down for undocumented reasons. What could possibly go wrong?"
Anti-Summer Tour (Part Three)
Bobby and the Ink Device
The kids were all in agreement; this place was awesome. The studio was even creepier on the inside than it was on the outside. Small animals skittered around, startled by the larger intruders, spider webs were all over the place, there were puddles of black stuff on the floor (blood or ink or something), and there was so much dust that Vladimir sneezed a few times in succession. The place was also littered with cardboard cutouts of a cartoon devil, who probably would have been kind of cute if its smile wasn't so gosh-darn creepy. Anti-Wanda told them that was Bobby from the old cartoon.
Brenda gagged. "It smells like something died in here. I like it!"
"Something probably did die in here," Anti-Goldie pointed out, opening a desk drawer and sifting through its contents. "Multiple somethings. This is place is pretty deserted."
Anti-Wanda flew into the room the kids were exploring in. "I wonder if we'll find the ink device."
"The what?" Foop asked before sneezing away a spider that landed on his nose.
"The ink device! Don Whimsy used it to make cartoon-making go faster. They say it magically made them cartoon-y critters come to life. That way they's could film the stuff happening instead of drawing one picture at a time."
Bryson cringed. "Yeesh! Is that how cartoons are normally made? Do people really only draw one picture at a time?"
As Bryson wandered down the hall, Anti-Goldie commented, "That sounds like cruel and unusual punishment."
"Hey, guys!" Bryson called. "You gotta see this!"
They all scurried into the next room. The first thing they saw was a huge cement mixer-looking thing that was covered in the same black stuff that was on the floor. It had a computer hooked up to it and a big on/off lever.
Anti-Wanda squealed and flew in excited circles towards it. "It's the ink device! It's gotta be!"
As the others walked/floated closer, Vladimir wandered off, and Foop flew after him. No one noticed them leaving the room.
"You think it still works?" Bryson wondered.
Anti-Goldie shrugged. "Doubt it. The things, like, a million years old and probably hasn't been touched in forever."
Brenda nodded in agreement. "She's right. Let's go find some dead bodies. I bet this place is crawling with them."
"Ah, c'mon, gals," Anti-Wanda teased. "Ya ain't never gonna know 'less ya try it out. Flip it on, Bryson!"
Grinning, Bryson pulled the lever. Everyone jumped back, when the machine made a whirring noise
Anti-Wanda clasped her hands together in a child-like glee. "See, y'all? It works!" Ink spurted out of the device, speckling them with black ink.
"I think it needs a tune-up," Anti-Goldie commented.
Foop found Vladimir running around in a circle, squealing like a maniac. "Vladimir!" The vampig stopped upon hearing his master's voice. "Naughty piggy! Don't you know anything about horror movies? The first people to leave the group always end up getting killed! And, I left the group, so I guess I'm in just as much danger as you are."
Then, he gazed around in the room, and his stomach curdled and a chill crept down his spine. Some sort of operating table was sitting vertically against the wall, giving a full view of the creature strapped to it. It looked like a cartoonish, black-and-white style werewolf. It's eyes were those little cartoon X's, and it's tongue was lolling out of its mouth. But, the really disturbing part was that its chest was sloppily cut open, as if the killer was in a hurry. Ink (at least, Foop hoped it was ink) poured out of the gaping wound. Fresh wound. Probably not even an hour old.
Foop shivered, unable to take his eyes off the victim. "Vladimir...I-I think we need to leave…"
Vladimir didn't need to be told twice. He bolted out of the room, squealing his chubby head off. Foop was about to follow him, but the door slammed shut. He reached a shaky hand to the knob, but the door wouldn't open. He looked down and saw black leaking under the door, making him grateful that he could float.
"Hello?" he called, failing to keep his voice from shaking. "I-If this is a prank, it's not very funny." Black dripped on to his shoulder. He reluctantly turned around and screamed.
"Hey, what happens if I stick my head this?" Bryson asked, popping his head into a hole in the ink device.
His sister pulled him back. "That's probably not a good idea."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
They all started at the familiar scream. "Was that Foop?" Anti-Wanda asked, looking around in horror. "Where's Foop?"
"He was here before," Anti-Goldie responded frantically.
Suddenly, she let out a strangled yelp and vanished in a blob of black. Brenda and Bryson quickly fell to the same fate, leaving Anti-Wanda alone in the room, wondering what was going on. "Kids?" she squeaked.
The black puddles on the floor moved toward her with a disgusting slurping noise. Screaming in panic, she tried to poof it all away, but the black reached up and engulfed her wand. She gagged on the ice-cold slime as it slowly, purposefully coated the rest of her body, until she ran out of oxygen.
When she woke up, Anti-Wanda was sore all over, and there was a horrible taste in her mouth. She shook her head to clear its grogginess, only succeeding in making herself dizzy. She instead- What did her husband call it? Access her surfaces? Whatever the saying was, she did it. Her knees were squished against her breasts, and her arms were straight down against her sides, the uncomfortable position held by a slimy, itchy rope.
"Is she awake?" a voice said. It sounded like a little boy. "I can't really see from my angle."
Another voice, this time a little girl. "I think so. Anti-Wanda?"
The third voice might have been a girl, but it was pretty gravelly. "Hey, Anti-Wanda? Can you hear us?"
Then, Anti-Wanda remembered what happened. She didn't understand what happened, but that black...thing was hard to forget. "Kids? Y'all okay?"
"Tied up and covered in ink," Anti-Goldie replied, "but otherwise okay."
"Foop's been pretty quiet, though," Bryson added.
Anti-Wanda's heart paused. She wished she could turn around and see her baby, but she was stuck and without her wand. "Foop? Sugarplum? You alright, baby?" Not so much as a scolding for calling him "sugarplum." Anti-Wanda bit her lip. "Sweetie, say something!"
Silence, which was quickly broken by Brenda. "Guys...where's Foop?"
Anti-Wanda was afraid someone would say that. Where was her son? Did he escape somehow? Or, was he still in the building? Oh, sweet Darkness. What if her baby was cowering in a corner somewhere, his chubby little arms wrapped around Vladimir, as that crazy black stuff came after him and… Anti-Wanda struggled harder in her binding.
The door flew open, and Anti-Wanda froze in horror. Standing in the doorway, was a small, square creature, coated head to toe in dripping black ink. Its only visible body part was a single purple eye, blank and glazed over as it was. The creature walked closer to them, stumbling as if mind-numbingly drunk, a trail of black droplets trailing behind him.
"What's happening?" Bryson asked. "Someone turn me around, so I can see!"
The black square ignored him. "Ah, you've all awoken," it said. Its voice was deep, hoarse, yet strangely familiar.
"Who are you?" Brenda asked, feigning bravery.
"Where's my son?" Anti-Wanda added desperately.
"What are you gonna do to us?" Anti-Goldie squeaked.
"And, can someone please tell me what's going on?" Bryson demanded.
The creature stomped his foot. "Silence! My Master, the Great Bobby, is on His way." Bobby? What kind of name for a monster was Bobby? "I can feel him crawling closer. Crawling!" The creature leaned in closer to Anti-Wanda, who was too nervous to look away from it. "Hm… You look...familiar…"
And, as she stared into its dead purple eye, Anti-Wanda realized with a shocked and broken heart that it- That he looked familiar as well.
A mother always knew her son.
Foop backed off. "Never mind. It isn't important. What's important is that, once I find that stupid piglet, Bobby will have five sacrifices. He will complete the ritual, and He will regain His full power."
Her son turned and stumbled toward the door. Anti-Wanda called out desperately, "Foop, I know you don't wanna do this!"
"That's Foop!?" the girls exclaimed incredulously.
Bryson groaned. "Oh, gosh, please turn me around. I am so confused!"
Foop paused at the door, and his mother's heart lifted a little. Maybe he was okay now? But, then he glanced at her them over his shoulder and told them in the same monotone, "Rest easy, my little sheep. He will see you soon." Foop closed the door behind him, leaving his victims alone in a stunned silence.
A silence, which was quickly broken by Bryson. "Um… I still don't know what just happened. So, that Bobby cartoon character is alive, or something?"
"And, apparently he really screwed Foop up," Brenda said.
"There's gotta be a way to fix him," Anti-Wanda said. "Or, at least a way for me to smack Bobby into next Friday the 13th."
Just then, a round black blob rose off the ground in the corner of the room. They all struggled with their bindings, desperate to get away from it. Then, it oinked like a pig and shook off its inky coating, revealing the pale skin and pudgy face underneath. They cheered quietly (except Bryson, who complained about still facing away from everything), as Vladimir ran up to Anti-Wanda, grabbed the rope with his teeth, and snapped it, freeing his female master.
Anti-Wanda gleefully squished his cheeks together. "Good boy, Vladimir! Now, help me free the others."
Once the kids were free, Anti-Goldie rolled her sore shoulders and said, "Guys, I just thought of something. Anti-Wanda, didn't you say Don Whimsy used the ink device to bring cartoons to life?"
Anti-Wanda shrugged. "Yeah. So?"
"This whole thing started when we turned it on. Maybe if we can destroy it, then everything will go back to normal."
"Or," Brenda responded, "maybe everything will be a thousand times worse."
"Well, it's the only plan we got," Anti-Wanda stated. "And, if it means getting my son back to normal - or at least as normal as he can get - I reckon, I'm gonna try anything and everything. Even if it means you all's gonna die tonight." She narrowed her eyes at their reactions. "Don't look at me like that. You'd say the same thing if y'all was mothers." Pulse hammering, she opened the door slightly and peered through the crack. "We need to be super quiet."
"Gotcha," Bryson said, holding his axe and skull close. Wait, what?
"Dude, what's with the stuff?" Anti-Goldie asked him.
"Oh, I found these lying next to that pile of bones over there. I may have been facing away from the action, but at least I got to look at something cool. Besides, we might need this axe to fight off ink monsters."
Brenda asked, "What's the skull for?"
"It'll make a nice conversation starter."
Anti-Wanda face-palmed. "Can we focus on saving Foop? We gotta get rid of the ink device before… Uh, I don't know what will find us, and I don't reckon I wanna know."
Silently, they crept out of the room and down the dark halls. The building was different than they'd last seen it. Thick black ink dripped down the walls, and Brenda and Bryson - unable to float like their companions - were knee-deep in it, which greatly slowed everyone down. Vladimir's rather tiny wings somehow managed to keep him afloat, but Anti-Wanda wished, not for the first time, that she had her wand. But, it was probably saturated (wow, she didn't know she knew that word) in ink, along with Anti-Goldie's magic rattle, so there was really no point in searching right now.
Brenda shivered. "I feel like these cutouts are watching us."
Anti-Wanda mentally agreed. There were cardboard cutouts of Bobby everywhere. It was kind of weird. The sight of that black-and-white demon, with his fancy bowtie and gloves and sort of horn-shaped hair and signature smile, used to make her want to dance and sing along with the songs he used to sing and dance to. Now, the sight of her old favorite cartoon character was just unsettling.
For some reason, Bryson decided to take a selfie with one of the cutouts and send the picture to everyone on his phone. Brenda tried to wrestle the phone away so they could call for help but the phone ended up falling into the ink and… What was the word? Short-something? Well, it got all zappy.
"I don't think the warranty's gonna cover that," Anti-Goldie snarked.
Vladimir oinked at them from up ahead and flew into a room. The others followed and raced inside upon finding the ink device sitting exactly where they'd left it. They froze when a blob of ink spurted out of the hole on its end. They waited and sighed in relief when nothing else happened.
"Okay, we found the ink device," Anti-Wanda announced. "Now, let's break it, save Foop, and get our sorry rear-ends outta here."
Brenda tugged on her leg, as she tried to fly towards it. "Wait. I've seen enough horror movies to recognize this scenario."
"Speak redneck," Anti-Wanda requested.
Brenda restated in a fake Southern accent, "This here si-chee-ation's real dang bad, I reckon." She spat on the floor.
Anti-Wanda deadpanned, "Okay, I didn't ask you to patronize me."
"Sorry. Anyway, don't you guys think it's weird that we walked through the building, and nothing attacked us?"
Her words sank in, and they all looked around anxiously, half-expecting something to pop out of nowhere.
Bryson shook his head clear. "Gah! We're being silly." He handed his axe to his sister and waded through the ink, holding up his skull. "Let's just stick my head in it."
"Bryson," Anti-Goldie warned as he reached up to put the skull in the hole, "I'm starting to think that's not a good idea."
But, he had already shoved the skull in and taken a few steps back. The device clanked and sputtered, unable to work out the skull jammed into it like a cork to a bottle. Suddenly, it exploded, coating them all in a wave of ink and machine parts. Their injuries stung like nobody's business, but everything was silent. Did it work? Were they safe?
"Did you really think it would be that easy?"
Apparently not.
Foop - still a weird ink monster, much to his friends' and mother's dismay - appeared to be walking on top of the ink as he staggered up to them, stopping a few feet away and swaying on his feet. "The ink device may have revived The Great Bobby, but it is blood which will bring about his full power."
"Sweetie," Anti-Wanda half-spoke, half-sobbed, "you don't know what you're saying…"
"Snap out of it, man!" Anti-Goldie exclaimed.
The ink rippled, and they turned around. Something was rising up from the ink.
"He approaches," Foop announced reverently.
To Be Continued...
Ah! I'm so evil! I just left you all hanging! I also forgot that there was a pentagram in the game. Maybe I'll incorporate that into the next part. Review, unless you want Bobby to eat you! Or, whatever he does...