In hindsight, punching the teeth of an inhuman creature probably wasn't the smartest move. Especially when said teeth opened the moment the punch landed to try to bite down on Henry's hand.
The teeth, while still flat, could no doubt chomp through anything with how large they were.
"Shit." Henry hissed in pain. He hadn't moved his hand away fast enough, and those deceptively sharp and sizable chompers cut skin. Henry tucked his bleeding hand against his sweater as he stumbled back. Henry didn't dare take his eyes off the Ink Demon that was snarling at him. Henry did attempt to stop the blood flow, even as he foolishly grit out, "That all you got? I've had paper cuts worse than this."
A lie, really, but who was keeping track?
"You think you're all that and a plate of cookies?" Henry continued on, wincing as he squeezed his sweater around his still bleeding hand. "If everyone hanged up on your skeletal ass, we wouldn't be doing this song and dance every time."
The Ink Demon cocked its head to the side as a black tongue flicked out to remove the blood off its teeth.
"What, do I taste good?" Henry dared to prod, as he backed away. "Well, that's all you're gonna get from me, I'm afraid."
The Ink Demon's maw parted to hiss at Henry before the inky, skeletal demon began to actually squeeze through the boards blocking the room. The Ink Demon swiped its gloved hand toward Henry again, this time with what appeared to be a frustrated growl as it gnashed its teeth together as though longing to bite.
"Bad demon. No biting." Henry scolded, stupidly going closer to the demon as his uninjured palm went across the inky creature's cheek with a sharp motion. He didn't slap that hard but the demon's head went to the side with the motion.
"Uh..." Not only had he just punched the Ink Demon in the face, Henry just essentially bitch slapped it too.
The Ink Demon's head snapped back to forward-facing and screamed in apparent fury over the slap.
"Aaand that's my cue to run." Henry said, more to himself, as he about-faced and ran his ass as fast as he could toward the exit.
From the sound of breaking boards and another furious shriek, the Ink Demon was giving chase instead of slinking off.
As Henry ran, the ink pipes began to burst and flood the floor. Doors slammed down, blocking Henry's path to only one possible direction.
The exit of the studio.
Henry ran toward that exit even though he knew that he wouldn't get out. Henry turned around sharply to face the Ink Demon as it hurtled around the corner.
The demon slowed, growling softly as it stalked closer to Henry with its limp. The Ink Demon seemed to know that the human had nowhere to run to.
"I told you that you weren't getting another taste of my blood. Not even if Sammy decides to do a blood sacrifice this time around!" Henry yelled at the approaching Ink Demon. "I'll throw myself into the the ink as I bleed out, and you'll have to do with a snack of prophet."
The Ink Demon rushed forward.
Henry hastily stepped backward, temporarily forgetting what happened when he got too close to the exit. There came the unnerving sound of the floorboards creaking, heralding the coming disaster. Henry heard a loud snap directly beneath him, felt the floor give, and then he was falling, falling until he hit a pool of ink beneath him.
It was staring again.
The cycle was beginning anew, and this time, he hadn't even started it.
Henry flailed to the surface of the inky pool, determined not to drown in the ink. He heard the demon screeching at him from overhead, a little too close, and looked up.
The Ink Demon had followed Henry down, but was holding itself up above the pool of ink. Its teeth were rattling, and as soon as it noted Henry looking, the teeth parted. The Ink Demon let out a snarl.
"What? Not going to come get me?" Henry kept himself afloat, wary to drain it while the Ink Demon was still so near. "Don't want to have a little swim? Funny, you did before when you jumped out of the ink the first time I met you." Feeling bold once more, Henry paddled over to the tape recorder on the shelf, grabbed it, and then paddled over to be directly beneath the Ink Demon.
The demon opened its maw to screech, only to grunt as the tape recorder bounced off its forehead, or thereabouts, making a tacky sound.
"C'mon! Get down here!" Henry caught the broken tape recorder and threw it again, only for the Ink Demon to grab it in its gloved hand to crush it. "Spoilsport."
The demon let the pieces drop onto Henry's head, as if indicating what would happen the next time it got close enough to the human. After that display, the Ink Demon appeared to grow bored, and with a final loud incensed snarl, it climbed back up and out of sight.
Henry waited a few breaths, before he chanced swimming over to the valve to drain the ink. The human determined that he was yet again being forced to go through the madness as he had countless times before.
Was it too much to ask for a break?
A rain check?
A vacation in a place more colorful?
The fact that Henry hadn't even decided to turn on the Ink Machine himself felt like a betrayal.
But who did it?
Who had started up the loop again?
Well, as per usual, all Henry could do was press on. He could always take a nap, and see what happened. Maybe Henry would wake up and find himself surrounded by the Lost Ones playing a slow dirge for him, as Sammy prepared to sacrifice him for the Ink Demon.
A terrible fate, that.
A happy tune from one of the earlier Bendy cartoons made would be more fitting. What better way to show the how dark and twisted this studio had become compared to what it had once been?
Henry was sure that Sammy would oblige, if only because it would stroke his ego and his need to praise the Ink Demon before Henry's upcoming demise by playing an old song for his savior. Hell, maybe Henry could even convince the music director to find a Boris to perform a silent eulogy over his lifeless body before it was claimed by the ink yet again.
Morbid thoughts, go away.
Henry gave a shake of his head as he blew out yet another dismal sigh, slowly wading through more ink to reach a second valve. Once drained, he shoved his way into a room.
Lucking out on a first aid kit, Henry cleaned the bite wound as best he could, and bandaged it. He would need to be in a safer area before he could look closer to see if it needed stitches.
Henry's gaze fell onto the axe on the wall, where it always was. Tucking the aid kit into a bag he found and slinging it over a shoulder, Henry moved closer. The situation snapped into stark clarity, and Henry could stand it no longer.
That was it.
Henry was done playing this game, as he had decided countless times before during this current loop. If he couldn't just not do a loop, then he would go down fighting this time, to hell with hiding and being careful.
Punching the Ink Demon in the face had been so satisfying.
So refreshing.
Wonderful, really, to lash out at one of his tormentors. One of the few highlights of this fucking nightmare of never-ending ink and misery.
The axe was taken down from the wall with a feeling close to reverence.
Was this how Sammy felt about worshipping the Ink Demon? Because Henry was ready to worship the violence this axe and other weapons would bring.
It was a powerful feeling.
Henry hefted it in his hands, careful with his wounded hand, a crazed glint in his eyes. He was done playing by this studio's twisted rules. As the sharp end of the axe was used to hack through the wood planks blocking the door, Henry resolved to be reckless.
He was done, and ready to bash some inky skulls in.
No more hiding in the shadows.
No retreating to the little miracle stations.
Henry was out for inky blood after being forced into the same motions yet again. And as to the one who started the machine? To the cast of characters who would show themselves to Henry in this twisted place?
They had no idea that Henry was done with their games.
Henry collapsed onto the ground within the pseudo-pentagram with Bendy's head in the center, as he always did. Right before Henry passed out, the older man smiled for the first time in a long while. Wouldn't some of the more aggressive toons in this studio be oh so surprised to find out that Henry was past the point of caring and was no longer intimidated by any of them?
An axe to the face would show them if they had any lingering doubts.
Within the shadows, a figure cautiously came forward to study Henry's unconscious form curiously. Then, the figure approached a chair and hopped up onto it to wait for the man to regain consciousness.
A soft hum filled the air; a tune from decades ago, before everything became silent once more.
Henry slept on, oblivious to his visitor as he dreamt about hacking the Ink Demon to tiny pieces in front of a distraught Sammy Lawrence.