((AN: Time for the next chapter! ^^ I've decided I'll post these up weekly, early in the morning on Wednesdays my time, so that I'll have plenty of buffer and time to finish the story.

Thanks a lot to those of you who stopped to comment, I always appreciate it! Even a favorite does wonders for the ol' muse.

This chapter took a bit for me to write, because it's mostly just an exploration kinda thing, with our two heroes doing some looking and discovering of the music floor, sans Sammy Lawrence...for now. :3 But I did have fun writing the dialogue, plus we do start to get into a bit of trouble with certain monsters...and we also find out some backstory about why the toons were there in the first place...and where they are at this point.

I hope you guys enjoy; and don't worry, once we hit the next chapter, things'll get quite interesting indeed. I'm just blazing through my ideas. xP))


Chapter 2

It took Boris a moment to figure out his bearings before they actually managed to get anywhere. But once he spotted a door off to the side of the employee break room that opened to a staircase downwards, it was like a switch of recognition had lit up in his mind.

"There used ta be a path that they let tourists take through th' studio," he explained. "Supposed t'be an elevator that went from the top floor an' down on through, an' it just kept goin' th' more the studio kept bein' built. This here ain't th' real studio, a'course, just a mirror copy a' th' one from th' real world...but it's all here...includin' th' Ink Machine." He shuddered. "Nasty thing...it influences this place an' connects it ta th' real studio. I'd take ya straight to th' elevator, but...it was destroyed. So we havta take th' long way, first through the basement where they kept th' music department."

"Fascinatin'," Betty hummed as she looked around, interested in some of the new posters they were passing. A few featured Alice Angel, who indeed looked like she could have been a popular star if things were different. "So, why's the elevator destroyed?"

Boris frowned. "Alice destroyed it. She didn't want anyone else gettin' down t' the lower levels an' gettin' hurt...or worse...endin' up like..." his voice trailed off with a whimper.

Concerned, Betty stopped their walking and took his gloved hand with a pat on the back. "Please tell me what happened here, Boris...it'll prob'ly help. An' it'll let me know exactly what ta expect."

And so he did, albeit with quite a bit of reluctance. He started at the beginning, with some backstory to the studio itself; he didn't know everything...only that Joey Drew had eventually had the Ink Machine built and installed, and that the ink inside was cursed with powerful magic that could even allow him to somewhat communicate with the toon world. There, he and Bendy and Alice were living out their happy days in the black-and-white universe of their own, with songs and laughter and trouble, and like all toons, vaguely aware that their lives were a show.

Then one day, they were called to this place, the copy of the real Joey Drew Studios workshop.

"Y'can imagine our excitement when we were promised that we'd see th' studio," Boris was smiling with the memory. "Very few toons ever get t' see th' real world, an' meet their creators. Jus' like you all did."

Betty could imagine it. The first time she'd met Uncle Max was like magic; Koko had done it a million times before inviting her along. Through the pure imagination stored in that inkwell and pen alone, they helped create some amazing things in their time.

"Mr. Drew told us that he needed us fer somethin' goin' on in th' real world, somethin' wonderful, an' that the Ink Machine would be our ticket there. He asked Bendy to go down inside first, that we'd be coming later. We just said we'd see him again soon, an' away he went."

He sniffed against another welling of tears, his ears drooping. "But...we didn't see 'im again. It was a good long time before we were called back...an' there was no explanation, no Bendy, no nothin'. Joey jus' wanted Alice next. She told me t' come with 'er, just in case somethin' was wrong.

"Th' Ink Machine was...nothin' like we imagined. But we could peer into th' real world from its windows. An' we saw what Joey intended t' do. He was tryin' t'...t' turn his own employees into toons, usin' their souls!

"We couldn't find Bendy anywhere in that machine...but we did find one a' Drew's unfortunate victims. Miss Susie Campbell...Alice's first voice actress. I wanted ta run away an' never come back, but...Alice wanted t'help her. Susie too was denied th' chance t' be a star through Alice...so Alice thought she'd help both of 'em. By bringin' her here, I guess, or go there...I don't know what she was thinkin', but she was dead set.

"An' when she touched th' wall that separated the two worlds...touched Susie...well...things went horribly wrong. Alice got trapped inside...an' knowin' that things were horribly wrong, she told me t' run, never look back...an' I did. I ran."

The wolf had to stop and sit down, plopping himself onto a crate near a door at the bottom of the staircase as the tears just welled up, his eyes wide and shimmering. Betty sat next to him, keeping her full attention to the story.

He began again with a breath. "But I couldn't run forever. So I looked around fer a way that I could enter the real world. It was worth a try...especially if I could find a way to bring Alice n' Bendy back. An' it worked, t'my surprise.

"I wandered around the remnants of the studio there...it was a nightmare. Broken down n' flooded with th' cursed ink. No people...but there were monsters who were people once. I avoided 'em like th' plague. At one point I thought I saw Bendy...but he wasn't the Bendy I knew. He was cruel an' mindless. A monster wanderin' th' halls...the Ink Demon, they called 'im.

"I ended up findin' Alice again down in th' toy warehouse. But...she wasn't the Alice I knew, either. An' when she found me...well..."

There was a brief flash back to the pain and torment he suffered at the hands of the woman with two faces and two minds, and of his husk of a body being placed back into the Machine...and returning in that state, back to his world...alone and scared for so long that eventually he just tried to sleep through it.

"Well...it is a good thing toons can't die. But it still hurt like th' dickens. I could've prob'ly gotten back t' speed if I tried...but by then, in th' real world...our time passed. We were forgotten. An' it was too hard. An' that's where we are now."

Boris was quivering under Betty's touch as he finished the story, like a leaf waiting to be blown from a tree. And Betty herself was horrified, trying to simply get the images out of her mind. Toons could get themselves into downright sticky situations...but this was another level. This was playing with fire and using them as kindling. This was...unforgivable, and she was usually quite forgiving.

"Oh...you poor poor dear..." her head shook as she squeezed his hand and looked around in her bag, producing a white handkerchief. "I never could've imagined...oh my..." she looked up at him and patted his cheek to get his attention, handing him the piece of cloth. "Well, y'know, yer free now...if ya want, ya don't ever hafta be in this place again...we can just leave..."

The wolf sniffed and wiped the tears that were dripping from his eyes. "...That's right nice of ya, Betty...but...I can't. I have to see if I can't save my friends, especially now as I might be able ta." He paused to blow his nose before handing the cloth back to her. "Goin' back home without 'em...it wouldn't be th' same at all. Alice deserves it. Bendy deserves it. I'm terrified as all heck, but...I gotta find 'em, I just gotta."

Betty let out an impressed sigh (and politely closed the handkerchief in his hand for him to keep). "Yer a real brave wolf, Boris. Yer right...I came in ta help all of ya, an' that's what I intend ta do."

The wolf perked up, standing again as he gave an enthusiastic nod and shoved the handkerchief in his pocket. "An' we'll do it together. We're pretty close to th' music department anyway. Then it'll be a ways down to th' stairs inta Heavenly Toys. Alice oughta be there."

"Ya sure?" Betty asked as she followed along. "It sounded like she was trapped down in th' Ink Machine."

"Well, when I was back in the other world spyin' on her, Alice...Susie...well, Alice in Susie...gave me a clue. She was mutterin' about bein' sad that all her dolls never sold, so they're all in a pile in th' toy warehouse, an' she wished she weren't stuck there. Tells me she can maybe see it, at least. Heh," he chuckled, "I can see Alice though, playin' in a mountain of her toys. I'd play in a mountain of lil' Borises."

Betty giggled at the image. "I know the feelin'."

"Bit jealous that Bendy got dolls that squeaked though..." he snorted. "Aw well. Anyway...we better be careful goin' through here. It's where th' Searchers lurk."

"...Searchers, huh?"

"Yup. They're livin' ink puddles, basically, always tryin' t' go after ya. They're annoyin', 'specially if they gang up on ya, but they're easy to deal with. Matter a' fact..." the wolf mused as he suddenly seemed to spot something, and walked up to a fire ax hanging on the wall, reaching up to it. "Prob'ly gonna need this."

"Ooh, dear me," Betty said, shaking her head with a tsk or two. "They do sound like bad news."

"Very bad news," Boris agreed, giving a couple test swings of the ax. "They ain't even from this world, neither. They can move from this one t' that one an' back again...thankfully they're th' only ones that can. So yer gonna hafta stay close, Betty; it ain't no place fer a lady. If things get sour, y'just stay behind me, or run."

"Oh, I ain't runnin'; I'm in this for the haul, like I said before," Betty assured as she reached into her bag. "B'sides...I'll bop a few of 'em in the head too if I have to." Retrieving her hand, she was gripping a rather large frying pan as she winked. "It ain't a hammer, but it does the job."

Boris blinked a couple of times in surprise before giving out a chuckle. "Guess yer as good as yer gonna be, then. Let's go...but let's also be quiet. Might end up passin' 'em by."

So, with the wolf in the lead, the toons passed through the last of the stairwell and found themselves between two doors: one marked "Exit", and the other marked for the music studio. Boris took a second to stare wistfully at the exit door, before being reminded by a gentle touch from Betty that there was work to be done. The music door was opened, and there was the stairway entrance to the extensive basement, done up with lots of old vinyl records of their beloved tracks.

Betty couldn't help but whimper to herself, as was a habit when she was worried, but it took a "shush" motion from the wolf to get her to stay silent. The only sounds they heard were their shoes echoing along the wood floor, which sounded pretty hollow underneath them. I wonder just how far down this place goes? The toonette thought, her curiosity already about to outweigh her worry once again.

There were a few places to go in the main floor, all of it mapped by the various signs standing around, along with more new posters to advertise new cartoons. One side door led to the sound recording studio, while a set of stairs led up into the projection booth. Another hallway led straight to the music director's office, and to an abandoned infirmary. They crept through there first.

Seeing the window to the office, Boris sighed and placed his gloved hand on the glass. "Sammy Lawrence was our music director. Very talented, could play an' conduct any instrument, an' he wrote all the beats. Now...on th' other side, he's an ink creature like all the others. Don't even remember himself...an' he's insane. Wish there was somethin' we could do to help our creators out too."

"Aw, Boris," Betty sighed sadly, "I know how ya feel...I'd wanna do th' same, if it was my creators."

He shook his head and curled his fist against the dusty window. "I gotta think about my friends now, I guess. Anyway," he said, snapping out of his stupor and looking around, "If I remember, there was a door that led straight through to the elevator t' Heavenly Toys...just forgettin' where. Been ages since I walked the place, an' I was in a hurry at th' time," he finished with a sheepish grin.

Betty just giggled. "Well, it's gotta be around here somewhere. How 'bout one a' th' doors near th' recordin' studio?"

"Prob'ly," he agreed, "Just remember t' stay quiet in th' main room."

"As a mouse," Betty promised.

And so, trying to be as discreet as possible, they searched the entirety of the music department for any clue as to proceed...even so far as to step into the infirmary, and even a portion of the sewer system where lyricist Jack Fain worked his magic in peace. But all that they could find otherwise were old workstations, plenty of sheet music, and plenty more instruments (which Betty had to resist the urge to even pluck a string).

At one point, they walked up to the projection booth. Boris was about ready to tear apart the desk in his own frustration (and he didn't dare look at the ax in his hand for more ideas).

Betty, meanwhile, nosy as ever, hummed as she looked out from the balcony to the orchestra chairs, still so nicely set up with various instruments sitting beside them. It was sad to see really; things that could have made such lovely music in their day were now left to rot in the dust, with nary a guiding hand to bring the notes out of them.

In her musing, the toonette didn't realize how far she was leaning, and ended up accidentally flipping the switch to the projector. The fully-stocked reels started to spin, and a cartoon started to play a little lopsidedly onto the screen on the far end of the room.

The noise startled Boris out of his own thoughts, and he whirled around to see Betty rather transfixed to the performance on the screen. The title screen flashed ever so briefly in his vision: "Tombstone Picnic". It was a short animation, but it was a memorable one.

"Well well," the wolf hummed quietly as he stood on the other side of the projector on the balcony, "I haven't seen this here episode in forever. It's one of our first ones."

"It's rather nice," Betty smiled, hearing the nostalgia in his voice.

"Yeah...unfortunately, this episode lost its endin', we found out when we were called. I don't think Mister Drew ever said how or why. We all jus' kinda shrugged it off."

"I heard that your cartoons were usually all pretty short?"

"Yeah, heh...don't think th' animators ever had th' time t' make such grand ones like yours, or anybody's. Or maybe they were made to fit more n' one in. Hard t' know."

Then came the portion of the episode where he came in. Betty could hear him whimper a little sheepishly at the image of an annoyed Bendy tapping his shoulder as he ate the little devil's picnic. "I wasn't the nicest to Bendy, lookin' back now. I always liked food more n' anythin' else. I got better, but, I never did apologize to 'im...before we..."

"Oh, Boris," Betty soothed with a pat on his arm. "We were all young an' foolish once, even me. I'm sure he'd forgive ya."

The wolf sighed. "Hope yer right. Heck, maybe findin' 'im will count fer somethin'."

The reel soon reached its abrupt end, devoid of anything but the swift click of the projector...and once the echo died, something else came to life. Down in the recording studio, a rolling door rumbled on its track as it moved upward to reveal another entrance.

The toons blinked and traded glances. "That there room was Sammy's secret bunker in th' real world...guess it didn't need nobody in the pit to play an' open it," Boris whispered.

"Ooh...could there be something in there we could use?"

He grimaced and held the ax a little tighter. "Might be...might not. Worth a try. Stay with me."

Slowly, they made their way back into the recording studio, each wielding their respective weapons as they eyed the newly-opened door. Peering in, they saw nothing of trouble...just more instruments being stored and more thrumming ink pipes. Boris led the way into the end and a shiver crawled up his spine at what they found.

The old music director's desk was littered with dozens upon dozens of sheet music pages, ink splatters, and in general just looked like the workstation of a very frustrated individual. But that wasn't nearly as hair-raising as what was painted on the floor below the desk: an occult summoning circle, with candles at its outer edges.

Betty shivered. "Ooh...I keep seein' those around...they give me a bad feelin'. An' I should know, I've been around hellish things. Well, mostly in a dream, but I still know 'em."

"Yeah...I think Mister Drew used 'em with the Ink Machine t' do his dastardly work. Sammy, back in th' other world, jus' used 'em t' try an' get th' Ink Demon's attention."

"Me oh my," she covered her mouth. "So...do they get his attention?"

"...I'm not sure, t'be honest. But I think I see our way out, on th' desk." Where he pointed, next to a small Bendy doll, was a set of keys. "Those belonged to Mister Wally Franks, th' janitor. Sweet guy, or so I heard. If'n anythin' can open an unlocked door t'get downstairs, it's gotta be in those."

"Janitors are pretty handy," Betty agreed. "I'd say that's it. Let's get 'em an' go."

"Roger wilco," said Boris with a little salute and a stuck-out tongue as he tried to reach out to the desk for the keys...but staying well behind the drawn circle, which made his reach just a little too short.

Betty tilted her head. "Yer really thrown off by those, ain'tcha?"

"Well, yeah! No tellin' what they could do on this side."

She tutted and stepped forward. "Well, no sense in findin' out, but..." she took her frying pan and turned it around so that the handle could reach over the circle and, thus, around the key-ring. With a little flip and a jingle, it was flung in the air to be caught by Boris's waiting glove. "See? There's always a solution, even if it takes some thinkin'...just like my Grampy always said. Good ol' Grampy, wait'll he hears about this..."

"I'm sure this'll all make a good story fer later," Boris agreed hastily and turned to lead them back out. "Now let's get outta this..."

Hrrrrgh...

"...Place."

Betty let out a little chirp of a yelp. "W-what was that?"

And on cue to answer her, straight out of a puddle of ink that hadn't been there on the floor before, came the upper body of what can only be described as a being made of the stuff. Black, shining, and alive, but not at all in the sense that the toons were. It breathed heavily, like it was struggling to do so through constantly-flowing liquid; and its eyeless sockets were fixed straight upon the intruders in its domain.

"That would be a Searcher," Boris said with a little growl as the creature immediately started to crawl towards them, only to be caught on the swift end of an ax to the face, which bounced it back into the puddle from whence it came.

Betty shuddered. "Ooh, nasty thing..."

Suddenly, the sound of sloshing ink and more groans erupted from the end of the hallway, and the wolf had to take a deep breath, raising his black-stained blade. "An' there's more where that came from."

"Oooh...what do we do?"

"Run," he said, and all that Betty could do was let out a little squeak as she was nabbed by the hand. She was flying behind Boris as he all but zoomed out of the sanctuary entrance, and into a room full of ink puddles that were popping out more and more of the incredibly disturbing creatures, filling the space with groans and harsh breathing.

But once outside of the recording studio, the toons had finally stopped to take a short breath, and Boris's head was constantly turning around to eye the other doors. "W-which one was it?"

"Well, let's just try all the ones we haven't opened yet!" Betty hastily suggested just as another Searcher spawned upward next to them. This time, she was the one on the ball as the flat end of the frying pan caught the inky creature in the face and sent it flying. For such solid-looking beasts, it felt like they were actually pretty weak. "Oof, fresh..." she grumbled.

Boris, meanwhile, hacked through a few more as he tried to think on where to go. Just then, his eyes lit up on a door that opened just to the side of the projection booth stairway. "Thatta way!" he practically roared over the consistent moaning of the monsters around them, and once again took Betty by the wrist to lead her on, and again through (that is, after fumbling a little with the keys while she smacked a couple more Searchers in their ugly mugs).

Once inside, they slammed the door shut on them and took a minute to catch their breaths.

As soon as she felt it safe to look up again, Betty hummed and put her hands on her hips. "This is a small room. Looks like a lil' break area, considerin' th' pool table."

Boris let out a short "whew" before looking where she pointed. "Oh, yeah, that. Heh, yeah, some a' th' workers used this place t' let out some steam once. Gee...makes what happened all the more sad when ya think about it."

"I s'pose...so what now?" Her brow furrowed. "Is this really a way out, or were you just lookin' for th' closest door?"

The cartoon wolf chuckled nervously. "Yeah, kinda...I'm sorry, I was too scared t' think. Also, hope I didn't hurt ya, jus' pullin' ya like that."

"Aw, it's alright," Betty waved him off with a smile. "Such a gentleman. Really, I've been man-handled worse than that, an' you were just makin' sure I was right behind ya. Hm...let's see now...maybe we should just wait 'til they're gone."

Boris was about to agree, when his ears perked and he scratched his chin in thought. "Or we could try that door."

She followed his pointing hand to another rolling-roof door on the other side of the makeshift game room. "Ooh! Where does that go?"

"Prob'ly to a backstage maintenance room, if'n I know the place right," he hummed and looked around the boxes and stored props for a switch box...which in fact was hidden right behind another Bendy poster. "Ah, here we go," he said and turned the appropriate key to the box, pressing the switch inside.

The door rumbled open, making such a noise that the toons feared would alert more Searchers...but after it stopped and the noise died down...

Nothing. Not a peep. Just another corridor lit with sporadic flashing lights and darkened with blotches of endlessly-dripping ink. After a pause, quietly, they continued onward.

Now, Betty would have been one of the last toons ever to think that logic had a place in their world. But even among toons, there was some order to the universe, and as she observed the studio and its harrowing corridors, there started to be less and less of it here.

The music department had really been built into the basement, and Utility Shaft 9 was like a maze of hallways just for the maintenance crew and engineers that built the ink pipes into the walls. Gears were turning, electronic boxes were buzzing...so much convoluted machinery that seemed to lead nowhere and everywhere, among the rest of what should have made an animation studio: posters, desks, reels, and all sorts of memorabilia.

"Gee whiz," Betty commented after a long walk, past a large storage room and ending up at another door that needed a key to open. "Is the studio back in the real world as big as this one?"

"It was just about the same, yeah," said Boris as he cautiously opened the door. On the other side, he saw row upon row of plushies sitting on shelves; he sighed with relief. They were close to the toy warehouse. He let her in first and continued. "It goes underground a good ways. There're a few changes between 'em, like back there, there's even more monsters; not even just th' humans. Plus, th' ink from th' machine floods badly in places, so badly th' floors cave in, an' there's lakes of it, s'hard t' get around. It ain't much better here, some things jus' moved around, an' th' ink is controlled...somehow...but anyway, I think all we have t' worry about are Searchers, and..."

Suddenly, he was interrupted as they rounded a corridor and were beset by a noise unlike any that Betty had yet heard. It was subtle, but it was close enough to recognize as that of a heartbeat. And as it slowly got closer, the walls were getting darker, covered in seething shadows.

Boris gasped, and immediately grabbed Betty to duck aside into an abandoned office supply door.

Again she let out a squeal as she was rushed inside, struggling a little against Boris's grip. "Oh good grief, what is it this time...?"

"-Shh!" he hissed and covered her mouth as the two of them peered out the glass window of the door, his ears as low as possible and his voice only above a trickle of a whisper. "Don't make any sound."

Outside, the shadows crept along the walls until they encompassed all of where they'd been standing. The immediate vicinity was raining a viscous black liquid, ink their only guess...and the creature responsible ambled into view, freezing them solid with fear.

Betty had been plenty scared of things in her days...but she couldn't remember this kind of fear. She could feel the malice dripping from this tall, emaciated beast that looked only vaguely similar to little Bendy, its plastered-on grin quivering on a face obscured with its own black, dripping ink.

It walked past, seemingly either unaware of the toons or paying them no mind, and opened a black portal onto the opposite wall where it instantly vanished along with its palpable, hellish aura. Another minute passed before Boris deemed it safe to open the door again.

"Th' Ink Demon," he whispered with a shaky voice in an explanation. "From what I heard from tapes lyin' around from th' humans, back in the real world, they tried to create a likeness of Bendy himself...an' failed, badly. They wanted t' keep 'im locked up...but...now he roams th' place just takin' out whatever he can find...or whoever. Didn't know he could also come into this world."

"Ooooh, he gives me th' willies somethin' bad," Betty shivered uncontrollably, clinging to his arm. "He...he's not actually Bendy, is he…?"

Boris shook his head slowly. "Don't think so...or at least, I don't wanna think so. Sometimes I got a feelin' from him that was familiar...but...if it is Bendy...he's real far gone. I don't even wanna think about what could've happened to him. Thankfully, back on th' other side, he never paid no attention t' me...but I dunno what he'd do t' you."

"Oh...all the more reason t' probably get movin', then," Betty sighed as she nervously wiped her hands on her dress pants. "Are we close t' where we need t'go?"

"Better," he said with a small smile as he recognized another door nearby. "That there's an employee lounge, with a kitchen. I could use a food break."

The toonette let out a small giggle. "I don't think ya changed too much from yer cartoon days there, Boris. But, now that ya mention it, I could also use a lil' somethin' ta fill th' tummy." As if on cue, there came a loud rumble from her gut. "Heehee...how embarrassing..."

"Welp, let's stop n' fill th' tanks, then," he waved her over to the door as he unlocked it. "Prob'ly th' only good thing about this place, it's filled to th' brim with cans of Briar Label brand bacon soup. It's like our trademark food, or somethin' like that."