[Say goodbye… for now.]

There's an announcement, and a gift, at the bottom of this chapter. :)

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"You were right about both of us not fitting."

"Maybe single riding is scarier?"

Sammy scoffed. "With two people, the ride can startle one to grab the other. I thought that was the point of a haunted house!"

Henry huffed a laugh. "What about the tunnel of love?"

The musician made a disgusted noise. "Too on the nose."

"And now, the ride truly begins. Come in and pretend it's all just a bad dream."

The broken Bendy mask faced the source of the noise. "Did I mention she can hear us? We had a chat down below."

"You didn't… but good to know." Henry climbed into the car and tugged the bar down. He turned to Sammy and peered over his glasses at him as the car started down the track. "When you get to the main room, get out of your car and be ready to fight."

"Very well. I'll be joining you shortly." But the despondence with which Henry spoke settled like an icy stone in his gut.

The twisted angel didn't waste time. "It's a funny thing. How so much can fall apart so fast. We never really had control at the studio. Either you in someone's pocket, or you were putting someone else into yours. I just wanted what was promised to me. I just wanted to be beautiful! Surely you can understand that." She paused and cooed into her microphone. "Henry... Why are you here? With that lost cause of a false prophet? We're all dying to find out. Do you just enjoy the terror of the drop into hell? Because if that's the case... Hang on tight. I've got a surprise..."

No amount of bracing himself or seeing it hundreds of times could prepare him. Slowly, the car traveled down the track to the double doors on the other side. The nose of the car pressed the doors open, and enveloped him in black.

A massive set of white gloves grabbed the front of the car. Rolling forward, exes over his eyes, Buddy's caged head flopped into view. Blind, bloated, and senseless.

"Oh, Buddy. I'm so sorry."

"Hn… r…" The poor beast paused and adjusted his grip, before lifting the car and pitching it across the room.

Henry fell from the car just as Sammy leaped out of his own. "Henry!" He made a mad dash forward but stopped short as the Brute lumbered their way.

A cruel cackle split the air. "Ha ha ha! Meet the new and improved Boris! I took what I wanted, and in return, I gave him so much more! And this time, there's no Ink Demon, no escape. Boris, tear them apart! Leave nothing!"

"Dear god." No amount of warning him could have prepared him for what happened to Buddy. He snapped himself out of his horrified trance and hoisted Henry from the floor by his upper arm.

Henry held his axe at the ready, eyes glassy. "I hate this. I hate her." Henry stepped sideways away from the ink man but kept his eyes on the Brute. "He's fast, and he throws things. Be ready to dodge." Just as he said so, the brute threw back its head and roared, before crouching and thundering their way.

Sammy ducked behind a crate.

Buddy slammed into the opposing wall, earning a wince from Henry. The second he had a chance, the cartoonist slammed the axe into Buddy's back.

The brute backhanded him across the room and he lay still, ribs burning. He'd dropped his axe on his way to the wall, the room dark and fuzzy when he landed. Damn his back.

Sammy had his axe held double-handed, blade out and legs bent.

The brute swayed on his feet and grabbed at his chest. A jettison of ink sprayed forward, the poor thing heaving for breath.

Henry got to his feet and ran, the heavy footfalls of the brute close behind him. He got a few feet from Sammy when the brute launched himself forward and slammed both fists into the ground.

Sammy lost his balance, and scrambled backwards.

"Sammy! He's heading for the cars!" Henry called out before swiping his axe from the floor near several sacks of sand. He turned in time to see two things; Sammy climbing on his feet and running towards him, and the brute lifting a car off the track with a growl.

Brute Buddy turned, bringing the car up over his caged head. For a moment, he paused, arms raised with the car in his grip. He shook violently, ink spurting from his mouth, the car shaking. Those exed-out eyes snapped to Henry with another groan and more ink spilling forth. With a moan, his ears fell backward, lower jaw working lamely. "Hn… r… m… bd…"

If Henry had the energy to cry, that would have broken him. "Buddy."

Sammy looked between them both. "He remembers?"

Henry could only nod.

Buddy dropped the car which shattered on impact. He got closer to Henry with a staggering step and fell, only to prop himself on a knee and both gloved mitts. His bad leg remained bent, bones jutting out.

"What are you doing? Kill them! Kill them both, Boris!" The twisted angel screamed from her hiding place.

Buddy's head snapped hard to the side, and he stood, fists raised with a bellow to shake the room to its core. But he didn't charge Henry, or turn on Sammy. He tried again to speak. "Nnt… brs…" His mouth opened and a wave of ink gushed out. He didn't try again after that.

She shrieked enough to make the lights flicker. "Kill them you waste of parts!"

But he didn't kill them.

Buddy staggered backwards, a spurt of ink spitting from his chest. The brute staggered backward and fell, sitting. He let out a roar and dug his massive fingertips into the gushing hole in his chest.

"Buddy-" But Sammy had Henry around the stomach and wasn't about to let go.

"Don't." Sammy whispered. "Who knows what the Angel's ink might do."

Henry grit his teeth, a hot lump rising in his throat. "I'm sorry, Buddy." He hung his head and waited, hoping his friend's pain would be over quickly.

The wolf bellowed again with a gush of ink and reached for the hole in his chest with both hands. With a wet, horrible series of crunches and spurts, Buddy ripped his rib cage open and fell backwards.

"No! You useless wolf!" the twisted angel screamed, her voice heard from the speakers and where she hid.

Swirls of ink consumed Buddy's bloated body, and he faded away into a puddle.

Sammy released Henry, free hand against his back. He did not understand what he just witnessed, and from the vacant stare Henry was giving the puddle, neither did he.

Movement from the doors Buddy came from had Sammy rushing in front of Henry with his axe.

The twisted angel gave a shriek that rattled the chandelier above, her hands formed into claws and ripped mouth agape.

A blade forced its way through her breastbone from behind, and she froze in wide-eyed shock.

"Sammy." Henry's voice was scratchy and distant, but he was trying. "Get back."

He did, both hands gripping the axe as he stood in front of Henry.

The twisted angel fell when the blade wrenched free, and she chocked out a soft, pained noise before falling to the left, eyes shut forever.

There, one with a cutlass and one with a pipe, stood Allison and Tom.

Allison's wide-eyed stare melted into a confused scowl, and she raised her blade to Sammy. "What are you doing here?"

Sammy tilted his head back and squared his shoulders. "I could ask the same thing."

Tom glared from where he stood and thumped the pipe he held hard into his mechanical palm.

"Hello," Henry said. Walking out from behind Sammy with hands empty and raised, he continued. "We don't want a fight."

Allison squinted his way. "There won't be a fight, if you come with us."

Sammy hunched his shoulders, lifting the axe. "Not a chance."

"Sammy, this is what happens."

He turned to the cartoonist with a jolt. "I won't become a prisoner and neither will you, little sheep."

"Just him." She aimed at Henry with her head, gaze coldly fixed onto Sammy. "You work for the Ink Demon. His prophet."

Henry, arms still raised, gave Sammy a pensive look. "Please don't fight." He didn't want to think of what her cutlass could do to Sammy, or Sammy's axe could do to her… or what Tom might do if things grew heated. "Just do what she says."

The ink man shook his head and stormed forwards. "No. I only just found you again!"

"It's okay. We're almost done. We can try again soon."

But Allison raised her cutlass and halted Sammy with a blade tip to the throat. "That's close enough."

He turned his anger to her, now. "Enough? I think not, angel!"

Her brows lowered in a soft scowl. "I'm no angel."

"Sammy." Henry's voice broke through and he had the prophet's attention once more. "Please. It will be okay."

He didn't miss the confused looks the wolf and angel shot each other. Tom thumped the pipe in his mechanical palm, and Allison's brows furrowed over wide eyes.

Sammy, grumbling as separation settled firmly into reality, lowered his head. The prophet nodded stiffly and backed some feet away. "Fine." He aimed the axe at the three of them, but his gaze was firmly on Henry. "Harm him, and the Ink Demon will be the least of your worries." He turned and sprinted out the doors and down the track out of sight.

/

Days passed, and Henry could not find deviation from the established pattern that was Allison and Tom. Nothing more than the occasional extended pause, or Tom threatening him in a slightly slower manner.

"I know you're watching me. It's just… a little creepy."

When Henry found the horned angel painting words on the wall with ink, he stood from the cot. Okay, the Seeing Tool came soon. Feeling the sharp ache in his back as always, the cartoonist leaned his elbows on the sizeable gap between the boards. "You're the one who writes on the walls."

"We all do. For some poor souls down here, it's the only way they can be heard. But you don't want to touch the ink for too long. It can claim you… Pull you back." Allison turned to observe Henry. Her brush slowed. "Why were you with the prophet?"

Henry perked a little. Allison had changed the pattern on her own. Coaxing and leading never deviated, but having Sammy in the haunted house room with him… that did it. Now to use it. "He's my friend. He's been helping me in this place."

She focused back on her work and tensed slightly as she spoke. "That prophet isn't someone you want as a friend. He thinks the Ink Demon is a god who can be reasoned with, not the beast it is."

"He used to, but not now. I trust him."

Allison hummed in thought. "He has to believe you're useful to the Ink Demon alive rather than dead, then. The prophet isn't someone you want as a friend. I've seen hat he does to Lost Ones and Searchers who fall out of line. It'd only be a matter of time before you did something wrong, and he'd throw you to the Ink Demon."

"Trust me. He wouldn't."

Her voice sunk low and bitter. "He would."

Henry frowned at her back. "At least he didn't put me in a cage."

Her nimble hand paused, the brush leaving a widening black spot on the wall. "Let me show you something… Awhile back, I was mapping out one of the upper levels...When I noticed something reflecting off a piece of glass." Reaching over to her right, Allison picked the seeing tool from the stool. "I held up the glass, looked through, and on the wall behind me was a hidden message! Right there in plain sight! So I kept looking...and found more and more messages everywhere in the studio! But you can't see them with your eyes. Only through this! Take a look!"

Her trusting nature would have been sweet, had he not seen it come back to bite her hundreds of times. Henry took the tool and held it up to her. Halo perched above her head, writing on the wall behind her, reminding him coldly that SHE WILL LEAVE YOU FOR DEAD.

Like he needed a reminder.

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"I'm sorry." Allison's tear-choked voice got no less painful to hear, even as she and Tom took off and left him in his cage.

Why did she never take the Seeing Tool back? Henry didn't know as he tucked it into his back pocket. But he knew how to get out of this place. He just wished it didn't involve reaching into a toilet. Worth it to have a weapon.

Oddly enough, not a single searcher popped out on his way to the barge. He arrived just in time to see the first boat disappear into the tunnel with Allison and Tom. How they got through faster than him was just another thing he'd chalk up to none of this place making enough sense.

Henry got the barge going and braced himself for the inevitable giant hand. He just assumed that the barge was on a preset track, like the haunted house ride. It explained why it always went to the same place. But… giant hand. Of the monsters this place had spawned, the giant hand was the most confusing. Was it just a hand? Was it attached to someone? Who? How?

He'd have to ask Sammy about it.

Several smacks to the paddle wheel later, the Lost Harbor came into view. To his left sat the fisher who didn't look up from their cast line. The barge pulled into its place by the dock, the village empty as always. Henry made his way to the empty circle in the middle of the settlement and turned at a sound behind him. The barge always sank after he got off. Who built these things that broke so easily? Another thing he'd have to figure out.

"Ah, there you are."

Henry turned to the voice, and found Sammy Lawrence approaching from behind the building he usually burst from, axe over one shoulder.

The cartoonist smiled tiredly. "Sammy."

The prophet held his head high, free hand open towards him. "My little sheep has returned to his shepherd."

The cartoonist hid a wince. Gone a few days, and Sammy regressed this far. Something to know for the next loop. "For the record, the time I'm with them is the same each time."

"Good to know." He deflated a little, mask still facing Henry. "When I saw the horned angel and her wolf run through here without you, I feared the worst. Especially with the Ink Demon's wrath boiling over not long ago." He raised his free hand and placed it on Henry's shoulder carefully. "I am thankful that you're in one piece, little sheep."

Henry nodded, peering over his glasses. "Where did they run off to?"

Sammy withdrew, both hands to the axe. "A tunnel running overhead. Why?"

"Well, usually, this is the part where you try to kill me."

Sammy let out an offended grumble. "Don't remind me."

"Too late now… wait. On my way here, I didn't see any searchers."

"Good. I made clear that-"

"Henry!" Allison called out, her cutlass raised and ready but giving them a wide berth. Tom ran up to stand behind her, his own axe ready. They came from behind a cluster of buildings. "You're lucky we were in the neighborhood."

Huh. Her usual words, in a new order. Okay, back in the hideout wasn't a mere fluke. Good. He moved to stand in front of Sammy. "I wondered where you went."

"Here. The Ink Demon rarely ventures to this area…" Allison's smile faded, gaze worriedly flicking to the ink man behind Henry. "Henry, you said you… trust him?"

Sammy pointed her way with an upturned palm. "No wonder my ears were burning." Well… if he had ears.

Tom shot him a look from behind Allison.

"Yes. He's on our side. Promise. And with where we need to go, we need him."

The ink man tilted his head, flexing his fingers against the handle of the axe. We need him. Henry trusts him. It hit then how empty this place was without someone who wanted him around.

The horned angel frowned, eyes on the floor. "Alright." She ran to the gate and sliced the ropes cleanly, sidestepping and looking back at the cartoonist. "Probably best if we stay together from now on. Henry? Think you can lead the way?"

Henry headed for the boards he knew would break under him and braced for the upcoming fall.

It never killed him. He had a feeling it should have.

"Henry!"

Splinters of old wood and motes of dust fell behind him. His landing never hurt more than, say, falling out of bed, but it left him catching his breath. He rolled out of the puddle and sat up stiffly.

Someone jumped after him. They landed with a heavy thump of old boots and looked up, showing a familiar, battered Bendy mask.

Henry blinked.

Sammy straightened, the broken Bendy mask fixed firmly onto Henry. "Your resilience astounds me." Sammy reached out to help Henry up.

Henry nodded, and took the hand offered, getting to his feet with a grunt. "Same. I thought you'd get puddled."

"I am tougher than I seem… and these separations are starting to annoy me."

Henry continued towards Administration. "Agreed. Okay, up ahead we have butcher clones, and we need to print the right pipes to drain the ink. Then the vault."

"More tedium, then."

"I mean, I have to deal with the Ink Demon after crossing the ink river. That's about as exciting as it gets."

"And yet, you sound exhausted by all of this."

"Who wouldn't be?" Henry chuckled a little. "You can wait in the booth?"

"And leave you to your own devices? I think not, my little sheep."

"The sooner we get through here, the sooner Allison and Tom show up."

Sammy raised his axe. "After you."

/

Tedium was right. It was done soon enough. Having an extra set of hands helped.

But what came next? Henry'd take tedium over The End any day of the week.

The film vault was underwhelming, but where it lead was what mattered.

Sammy held an old reel in his hands, examining the label. "Mm. Didn't like the score for this one. I remember that much." He tossed the reel into the box behind him. "Too much brass, honestly."

"Not a fan of brass?"

Inked fingers wandered over the strings of the abandoned cello. Off key, but serviceable. "It has its merits, but strings are where I shine." He approached with a smirk in his voice. "Well, that and piano."

"What about banjo?"

Sammy tilted his head. "My first love. Just, ah, don't tell the piano."

Henry smiled his way. This snarky man was the Sammy he knew. These little talks helped him keep in mind just why he hadn't given up on getting free entirely.

Henry held up the Seeing Tool to the wall. THE DEMON HAS TAKEN IT. "Want to look?"

"What does it do?"

"Somenone's left writing on the walls, but you can only see it through this thing." Henry held the tool out to Sammy.

"I'd… not now."

"I might not have it next loop."

"I'll live."

Henry shrugged and replaced the seeing tool to his back pocket. "When the next one starts, I'll meet you in the music room."

"You'd better, little sheep."

The two turned to footsteps behind them, spotting Allison and Tom. "Looks like whatever was here was taken long ago…" she said, before focusing back onto Henry.

Sammy, who'd startled at the sound of feet, lowered his arms. He'd tucked the axe into a loop on his overalls after they dealt with the clones. "How did you get down here?"

Henry smirked. That was his line.

Allison smirked at Sammy, a hand to her hip. "It pays to carry a rope. You should try it."

"Gang's all here." Henry glanced about the group with a determined frown. "The Ink Demon has something that we need… I'm going after him."

"To his lair? Are you crazy?"

Sammy nodded at the horned angel. "I have to agree. This is crazy, little sheep."

She nodded at Sammy, dark lips drawn in a smile. "We can agree on that, at least. It's probably close by… probably through that door. But it won't be easy to open. I'll need three gears, a crowbar… hmm… some kind of counterbalance…"

Tom strode past the group of them and punched the doors open with a mechanical fist.

"Huh. Well, that works, too."

The four of them entered the room, winding down halls that Henry'd seen hundreds of times. A hand wrapped around Henry's arm, and he halted. Sammy stood beside him, other arm out to keep the wolf and angel behind.

"He's close."

Beyond the glass, rings of feathery black rose and pulsed against the walls.

Allison's voice was hushed behind them. "Don't make any noise."

The Ink Demon limped into view. He didn't pause in his movements across the room, but after all this time Henry doubted the beast didn't know they were there. If Sammy was right, the beast knew and didn't give a damn.

They kept going once the demon was out of sight. From the dark, the massive Ink Machine loomed into sight.

Allison ran ahead to get a better look. "Wow! I've never seen this before! I don't see any way around… nothing to build a raft with."

"We could probably wade across?"

The horned angel shook her head sadly. "We can't… We're not like you, Henry. If we go in there, Well… a drop of water in the ocean is never seen again."

"She's right… no one wants to go back to the Ink." Sammy's mask remained downcast, left hand to his side and tapping out a quadrille.

Henry looked back to Allison. "Then I guess it's all up to me... and I don't even know what I'm doing."

Those wide, hopeful eyes locked with his. "You're here for a reason, Henry. There's always a reason! Even when you can't understand it. It's time… Set us free!"

Well. Here he went, then. Feet over the edge, he turned to the musician. "Sammy?"

The ink man nodded slowly. "Until then, Henry."

The cartoonist nodded back and sank into the ink river. He turned to the doorway under the machine and waded away from the group behind him. At least now, he knew what to do when the next loop kicked off. If the progress made this loop were any sign, he'd been doing something right.

It was just the right amount of hope.

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.

.

Joey, propped on an elbow, extended his hand to the door in the wall. "Henry, come visit the old workshop. There's something I want to show you."

The door to the studio opened wide, ink dripping to the left and a reel playing far down the hallway. Dulled posters lined the walls, and the hall opened to the left.

Mechanically, unable to stop his path forward, Henry spoke. "Alright Joey. I'm here. Let's see if we can find what you wanted me to see." The door shut behind him on its own. Like always. The spell was broken, and Henry could move on his own once more.

The cartoonist took a breath and steadied himself. He wasn't much closer to figuring this entire thing out. Henry pressed against a wall and rubbed a hand across his face, covering his mouth. Okay. This would be loop two-hundred and seventy-six, with some progress made and no end in sight.

He could only hope that the light at the end of this tunnel wasn't an oncoming train.

Something pressed against his lower back and tugged at his pocket. Henry frowned and reached behind himself to retrieve the offending object. His eyes widened at the tallies that glowed against the opposing wall. The Seeing Tool felt so light in his grip, but the sheer shock made his hands cold and his thoughts jumbled.

Two-hundred and seventy-seven loops, and the Seeing Tool, something he'd lost after the second loop ended, was back in his hands.

But why?

/

Alrighty! There's Act One complete! Excuse me while I take an intermission. No upload next week, mostly because I need to get on writing the rest of this thing and a brief break will allow that. In the meantime, here! I drew my Henry for you all. Gaze upon the soft-done grandpa!