((AN: Time for the next chapter! This one was one of my favorites to write; rather like Chapter 3 is my favorite level of the games. x3 Funnily enough, Chapter 4 of the story is going to be just slightly longer than this one. Feels like I'm subconsciously channeling the time span of the game sections.

At any rate, our friends press on, and find some familiar faces...as well as one they'd been meaning to find. It was interesting coming up with the concept I had of how Alice affects the real world studio, but the pieces fell together pretty easily; not to mention some more questions are answered about the fake studio itself...but there are still plenty more to discover...at least now the story's kicking up some more excitement than just wandering detective work.

Still hope the story's enjoyed! Please let me know what you think, if you do, very much appreciated!))


Chapter 3

For the place that it was in, the break room was indeed a cozy little area, and it made for a perfect place for Betty to stop, rest, and think about her current situation.

The toons that ended up in the Lost Place were often in a pickle when they were; Betty had seen many of them in bad shape before they came to be rescued. But things so far hadn't been this bad. She wondered if there was even an ability to leave this crafted cartoon studio if it came to that…well, she was sure there was for her. But not for them, that was certain.

She glanced over at Boris as he warmed up some soup at the small stove top, more than happy to be the host for her. He'd really been such a sweet wolf, and quite upbeat most of the time, despite what had happened to him. Not to mention so very helpful. She was pretty certain now that he could be trusted. Betty owed it to him to help.

But as for the other toons? Both were still very much a mystery, especially now...and the presence of the Searchers and the Ink Demon were now a real problem, a wrench thrown into the proverbial machine. This was going to be much trickier than she thought, and could only hope and pray that it would come out as smoothly as they could get it.

"An' here we go," Boris announced as he came in with two bowls of hot, steaming bacon soup. The smell was interesting, though delectable. "Warm n' toasty. Hope y' like it."

"Aw, you're too kind, Boris...don't worry, it's pretty hard to ruin canned soup," she reassured, and took a small spoonful to cool off and sample. "Hm," she smacked her lips a couple of times, "Not too bad; a lil' bland though, could use pepper. Say, how long have these soups been here, anyway?"

Boris scratched his head with thought. "Y'know, I don't know. But I reckon they can keep fer ages. Don't even have a date on 'em."

"I see," Betty answered, a little disturbed as she looked down at the soup, though it still looked fresh enough. "Welp, good thing I brought sandwiches ta go with it. Ya like turkey?"

"Ooooh, I love turkey...s'been so long, I can't remember what a turkey sammich tastes like."

"Well, then this'll do th' trick," said Betty as she reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of the said food stuffs, one for her and one for Boris.

The wolf was salivating so much that it looked as if he would flood the floor along with the ink. He immediately bit into the sandwich and practically melted. After a few chews, he swallowed and gave her a pair of wide, glistening eyes. "Gee, Betty, thank ya..."

"Oh tut tut, it's nothin'...plenty more where that came from. So while we're here, why don'tcha tell me more about your part a' th' toon world."

Boris then wove different tales from the various animations that he and the others were a part of; some of which Betty had seen before, and many others that she hadn't. It sounded like a good place to be, despite some of the interesting people that lived there...and of course, apparently, one creature of Heaven and one creature of Hell. It was an interesting mix of characters to be sure, but she knew that cartoons thrived on the hilariously impossible, impractical, and strange. It felt rather like her own world. She'd have to visit it someday.

"Gosh," Boris sighed, "I sure do miss home. My house, my friends, my food—s'specially my food—I really hope we can find Bendy n' Alice, n' bring 'em back..."

"We will," Betty promised. "Or we'll sure as heck try. There ain't a toon I've met that's impossible ta get out of a sticky situation."

Boris had to chuckle. "Well, I seen some a' your cartoons back in th' day...you do have a knack fer gettin' outta trouble."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, after I get in it first. But I still got it, an' don'tcha forget it, wolfy!"

"Cross m' heart," said Boris with raised hands, causing the two of them to giggle.

After a good rest, they felt refreshed enough to continue on with the journey through the expansive studio. Just a little distance from the lounge (and a line of sadly-discontinued snack machines), they made their way quietly through a section of maintenance tunnels that finally led the way into the right corridor: the Heavenly Toys warehouse.

"Oooh..." Betty awed, gazing slowly around the massive room in which they found themselves. "All these toys…! You weren't kiddin' about this."

Boris stopped to nab a stuffed version of himself off the floor and dusted it off. "Nope! Mr. Flynn, our toymaker, and his team made all these and others. Mine n' Bendy's sold well...Alice's, not so well."

Their eyes wandered upward to the Heavenly Toys logo that sat above a massive fountain, probably meant for water and only coursing ink downward into a round pool.

"Now...hopefully, she's here somewhere. I know th' other version of her liked to keep a lair down a few floors."

She patted his arm. "Let's just start lookin'. We're bound ta find a clue at least."

He only gave a solemn nod and a practically silent gulp, remembering what had happened the last time he saw this part of the other studio. He gave his toy one last squeeze and set it on the edge of the ink pool where it would be more comfortable before they kept going.

The stairs upward to the toy workshop creaked under their weight and echoed heavily above them; it reminded Betty of how forlorn it was down here, and a shiver crawled up her spine. Thankfully, the room itself wasn't a bad-looking little area, made a little more whimsical by the toys. She picked up an Alice doll to look it over. "Well shoot, I'd buy one...they're all cute, really, oh...what's wrong with people, I swear, no taste at all..."

"I hear ya...I have one a' every toy sittin' on a shelf at home...a-as a souvenir, ya know, not that I play with 'em, I'm grown wolf, but..."

"Oh relax, hon, I getcha; everyone's got a hobby." She opened her bag and hummed, placing the Alice inside, as well as one Boris and one Bendy (that she gave a healthy squeak). "Mm...might as well have some souvenirs too, that is, if I can pay for 'em somewhere..."

Boris laughed. "Aw, shucks, just take 'em, Betty; plenty more here where that came from anyways...Alice n' Bendy would wantcha to. Now, there should be a door that leads t' some offices...th' elevator shaft'll be through th' hall, an' so will th' stairwell...we're on Level K, so we'll need ta go t'..."

Before the wolf could finish his sentence, though, there suddenly came a loud crashing noise. The toons whirled on their feet to face the door that they had yet to open, and behind it, to their surprise, were a bunch of voices squabbling over each other.

Cautiously, Boris and Betty leaned in and lent an ear to listen in on the other side. Among a flurry of scrabbling and crashing into the wall, like one of the projectors was going haywire, came what they could discern were three toons:

"...I don't think ye know where ye be goin'..."

"Aw, can it, will ya? I do so know where I'm goin'. Just been a while, that's all!"

"Yeah, Barley, have a bit of trust in him, he's the leader!"

"Ye best be stayin' quiet, y' nose-wipin' lil' bug..."

"'Ey, y'wanna fight somebody, fight me, not Edgar."

"I'll gladly, bilge rat...!"

Boris leaned back with wide eyes. "Well, I'll be doggoned..." he laughed. "That's the Butcher Gang!"

The toonette hummed curiously. "Now them I've heard of from yer cartoons...ain't they a buncha troublemakers?"

He chuckled lightly. "Yeah, kinda...let's just say they ain't the goodest people 'round, but they ain't the sharpest neither. Still, s' actually good ta hear their voices again...there are versions of th' Butcher Gang in the other studio but...they're just mindless, messed-up monsters too. I just wonder how th' real deal got in here."

"Well, if I could, any toon could, powers or no. Why don't we drop in, see what's goin' on with 'em?"

Boris cocked his head to the side and blinked. "I'm not sure that's a good idea...but then again, they might have a clue as to where Alice would be, and what's been goin' on since I was out cold."

"Worth it to ask," Betty suggested with a little shrug. "Antagonist-like toons're still toons. They'll be waitin' for a chance back in th' limelight too, and I'll help anyone once."

Meanwhile, the squabbling behind the door seemed to turn into an all-out brawl. Boris tested the knob and was happy to find that it wasn't locked. The two of them entered the threshold into a back room that seemed to be dedicated to an unveiling of Alice Angel...except it looked like a whirlwind had hit it.

Toys and cutouts of the titular toon were scattered in all sorts of directions, along with monitors and a camera. In the studio's heyday, in another time, it could have been a little place for visitors to get to know the angel herself. But now, it was a right mess, covered in more ink puddles...and of course, the sight of three short and motley individuals awkwardly staring at the intrusion, all tied up in spider-webbing.

The Butcher Gang were also each covered in an array of bruises and scratches, looking like they'd just escaped a battle. They blinked in unison, until the leader (Charley, Betty was surprised to remember), broke the silence.

"...What in th' Sam Hill? What's a Boris doin' on this side?"

"Uh, I think that might be the Boris, Charley..." said the young spider Edgar, a little tentatively.

"Impossible! Every last one a' those clones'r opened up an' left fer dead!" Barley growled.

"If you'll excuse me," Boris interrupted, instantly silencing the other three, "I happen ta be th' real deal. Now, I'm wonderin' what th' heck you three are doin' here."

"Well, see..." Edgar started.

"No, no chance we're talkin'!" Charley shot before he could say more, hopping on one foot in anger and taking his still-tied-to-him comrades along for the ride. "Any one a' those Borises could've followed us, if them Searchers could too! How do we know yer the real deal, wolfy?"

Boris rolled his eyes. "I talk. They don't."

The Butchers looked between one another again, this time in thought. "...Yeh, I reckon he got us there," Barley finally confessed for them.

Betty, meanwhile, just watched this whole exchange with a small amount of confusion before breaking into the conversation by tapping Boris on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but did I hear right? There's clones a' you, Boris?"

Suddenly spotting the pretty (and famous) lady toon, however, the Butchers each got a grin on their faces. "Saay, Boris, who's yer friend?" Charley leered.

"I think that's Betty Boop!" Edgar said, bouncing excitedly this time. "Sure looks like it!"

"Well I'll be a land-lubber," Barley chuckled. "Think she'll give us an autograph?"

Betty just giggled, having been used to such attention all her life (and hoping to use that to get them to cooperate). "My my, so many fans I'm meetin' lately. You boys do look like you're in a bind, though."

"You could say that," said Charley with a little chuckle of his own, putting on his best smolder. "If y'wouldn't mind, little Miss, we could use a hand..."

"Uh-uh," Boris piped up, stepping between them and brandishing his ax. "We ain't helpin' ya until you talk. How'd you get in here?"

"How d'ya think, idiot?" the Butcher leader growled. "We walked in. Real curious about th' joint, pretty fancy, seemed ripe for pickin'."

"It wasn't," Edgar added a bit sadly. "It kinda picked us."

"Ye shut up," said Barley as he managed to get one hand free to bop the spider's head with a fist. "We don't owe ya no explanation, Boris, n' less ye give us one first. Why're you up n' about whilst yer clones 're lyin' strapped ta tables? An', well..." he gave Betty an apologetic smirk, "Not that we're complainin', but what's with th' lass?"

"And again," Betty sighed and tapped her foot, "What clones?"

Boris groaned a little and lowered his ax, looking to answer Betty's question first. "Y'know how I said that Mister Drew was tryin' ta make real toons with th' Machine, usin' people's souls? Well...apparently, th' first real success was a version of me. I reckon that's how I was able t' cross into th' real world's studio usin' th' ink...I'm th' best match. An' well...there was a ton of versions of me there. All snatched up by the wicked Alice Angel an'...well..."

"Gutted like a fish," Barley supplied with a huff.

The wolf growled, teeth quite bared now. "I know. I was treated to th' same mad doctor malarkey when I was caught. That's really how ya know I'm real. I'm an honest t' gosh toon...I came back. With my eternal gratitude ta Miss Betty Boop here. She came from Toon Town with real creator's ink, lookin' ta help us outta th' gutter."

There was a quiet pause then, while the Butchers took the new information in.

"...Oh...gee, Boris...sorry 'bout th' mixup..." Edgar started, only for Charley to give him a nudge; the three of them however did look a bit more convinced by that point, and thus a bit less hostile.

"Now, you answer us," Boris continued, now gripping the ax with both hands. "How th' hell do you know about what's goin' on, on the other side?"

The three of them silently exchanged looks, as if deciding among them to answer their questions—it was Barley against, and Edgar for—and Charley was the deciding factor. He gave a little growl, but acquiesced with a nod. "Aright, aright...we'll tell yas. But can yas maybe get us outta this, first? Can't exactly stand here fer long...AUGH!" he yelped then when, on cue, his leg wobbled and sent the three of them crashing to the floor and straight into another ink splatter.

Betty and Boris exchanged their own looks (and snickers) before the toonette walked up to them with her hands on her hips. "We'll letcha outta there. But," she wagged a finger, "You guys gotta behave; we might need yer help too."

"Heh, well," Charley smirked, "How can we say no to a lovely lady?"

His statement was followed with enthusiastic nods from his two comrades. She gave a satisfied nod of her own and looked expectantly towards Boris.

The wolf narrowed his eyes at the three known troublemakers. "Better not regret this."


Once the Butcher Gang were freed, they were surprisingly true to their word and led the other toons back into the room from where they'd come, a hallway that led to a few more offices and lounges (they'd sworn up and down that the Ink Demon couldn't see through in there). It was in one such room—a cozy enough place with a softly-ticking Bendy clock and some food machines scattered around—where they took a seat on a couch, with Edgar and Barley nearby squabbling over some more bacon soup cans while Charley did the talking. Betty sat patiently on the other side of the couch, and Boris was leaning against the headrest from behind it, his arms crossed. He looked relaxed, but one could tell that he was very ready to jump between the miscreant and his new friend if things seemed to go sour.

"We first noticed about this place prob'ly about th' second time they were called in," said the Butcher leader, talking of Alice and Boris. "It was pretty strange that Bendy hadn't gone with 'em—no complaints in our department—but it was a day or two before we realized that the angel girl an' the wolf weren't back yet either. We three had t' see what was so darned special about th' creators up an' comin' ta call...since we weren't. So we got in, looked around...managed to get about as far as the basement before we were overrun by them Searcher things!

"I hope ya guys didn't get ta experience bein' dragged through th' ink...oh, th' horror..." he actually looked pitiable as he held his forehead in one hand briefly, "But eventually, we found ourselves in th' Ink Machine itself, in some glass prison, and bein' able ta see everything on th' other side! And now th' Machine had information about us, our designs...an' tried ta copy th' result there. What they got was a heaping ton of monsters like us...but different. What's more, that not-an-angel, whatever she was, was catchin' 'em, doin' th' most unspeakable things...yeah, suffice it t' say, we agreed t' avoid that place like th' plague when we escaped. Wasn't easy, but we managed...in our own way."

"Barley broke the glass of our container with a wrench," Edgar added in helpfully, which earned him a little swat from the toon in question.

"So wait, one question," Betty held a finger up, "How do y'guys manage t' see into th' real side? I used to only really do it through my inkwell."

"There's projectors in th' machine that let ya see, like yer watchin' a movie. That's how Mister Drew could talk t' us too," Boris explained. "Only th' projectors in contact with th' Machine's ink could show it. Somehow I could also use that ink in there to step through. But..." He quirked an eyebrow at Charley, "You guys could get through too?"

"Eeeenh..." Charley grimaced. "Okay, no, we were never actually there. But we've been up n' down this whole place enough t' know, and we weren't about t' hang around while th' studio was infested with these monsters...an' worse...manipulated by th' Ink Demon."

The three short toons shuddered at once, and Edgar whimpered. "Don't mention him, he could hear!"

"So, that's where ya found us," Charley finished with a bit of an ironic hand flourish, ignoring the youngest member of his gang. "Tryin' ta get back outta this dump an' forget everything we saw. And if ya know what's good for ya, you'll do th' same."

Betty and Boris exchanged a glance before shaking their heads. "Sorry boys, no can do," Betty said with finality. "I came t'help all of ya. I got Boris, an' ran into you, now we just need t' find Bendy and Alice."

"Well ye can jus' count us out, lass!" Barley piped up while trying to pick open a soup can. "I fer one have had enough a' this!"

"'Fraid I agree," said Edgar as he nonchalantly took the can from his friend, pulled off the top, and handed it back. "I ain't old enough for a heart attack!"

Boris huffed. "Well, that's sure fine by me, y'cowards. You guys at least have each other. I'm going to find my friends, or get pulled back tryin'."

Betty sighed. "Well...can ya at least tell us whether or not Bendy and Alice are on this side? Since y'seem ta have been everywhere and all."

Charley huffed. "An' whadda we get, if we help?"

"Not an ax t' th' head, fer one," growled the wolf, who calmed down a little with a pat from Betty.

"And we'll pointcha back in the direction a' th' exit. Please, jus' tell us what ya know?" pleaded the toonette, with a little flutter of her eyelashes.

And of course, as expected, Charley practically melted in a pile of light-hearted chuckles, charmed by the girl. "Well, heh, I s'pose that's fair, dollface." Hearing a few snickers from his comrades, he sat up straight and cleared his throat. "Well, we don't know nothin' about where Bendy could be. I'd ask his darker doppelganger out there, if yer brave enough. As for Alice...well...I sorta was exaggeratin' when I said we've been everywhere here. There's one place we haven't been in detail, but that we have seen, from a safe distance: Level 14."

Now it was Boris's turn to shudder, letting out a little gasp as his hand covered his mouth. "Y'mean...where th' Projectionist walks 'round?"

"On th' other side, yeah," Charley corrected. "On this side...all we managed t' see was an ocean of ink, through a blocked-up door, an' projectors runnin' windows t' his lair."

"And we heard singing," Edgar chimed in.

"Aye," Barley confirmed. "Like a sad siren call, echoin' from th' black deeps, forlorn n' empty."

"...Alice," Boris said with practically a whimper to his voice.

Betty grabbed his hand, feeling rather sad for him now too. "Oh my stars..." she looked back up at the three Butchers. "And yer sure she can't be anywhere else?"

"Believe me, other than that level, we've seen th' place top t' bottom," Charley promised, his usually-snide expression turned to a serious grimace. "If th' real angel is anywhere, it's there...an' from th' look n' sound of the Wicked Witch of the other side, forced to help her control her mind through the projectors."

"Well…then we know where to go," Betty said with a determined nod, and stood up from the couch. "C'mon, Boris...let's go get 'er outta there."

"Darned right we will," said the wolf, perking his ears back up again. "As for you three...can't believe I'm sayin' this, but thanks fer th' help. Yer free t' go..." he pointed. "Just go out th' door where we came in on ya, through Heavenly Toys an' up th' stairs. An' don't let th' Searchers get ya again. Here...y'might need this," he said, turning the ax on its handle and offering it to them.

Charley looked rather tempted, but then waved his hand. "Eh, keep it; you guys'll prob'ly need it if more of 'em pop up. B'sides...we did learn a thing or two from our other selves."

On cue, he nabbed a pipe from off his belt, while Barley nabbed a large wrench and Edgar (who preferred to improvise) just twirled a piece of spider silk like a lasso.

"Well, you boys look pretty well-prepared then," Betty said with a tilt of her head and a smile. "It was nice meetin' ya, an' good luck!"

"All the same back to ya, Miss Boop!" Edgar said with a salute.

"Definitely..." said Charley, the leer back on his face as his arm shot out to wrap around Betty's waist. "An' if you do get outta here, look us up, eh?"

A surprised Betty was about to tell him off, only to have Boris do that with a very well-placed thunk to the toon's noggin with the blunt side of the ax head. "Don'tcha press yer luck, buddy, just scram, will ya?"

"Aah!" Charley growled and massaged the bump on his balding scalp. "Aright, aright, we're goin'...an' hey, good luck t' you too. Give our regards t' Angelface an' th' runt."

"Ye did deserve that, fearless leader..." snickered Barley as they walked off.

"Oh, shaddup."

Betty had to giggle. "I swear Boris, I coulda used you in my cartoons some of th' time."

Shyly, he just chuckled back. "Aw...s'an honor t' know that."

And with that, the groups of toons parted ways...one rising, and the other descending.


"So, I might regret askin', considerin' things...but who's the Projectionist?"

Boris lowered his ears a little at Betty's inquiry, a familiar sad look coming to his eyes as they stepped into the elevator room. "Mister Norman Polk ran th' projector for our cartoons back in th' day. I don't know exactly what happened t' him when everything went down...my only guess is that, b'cause he knew th' studio in an' out, he could figure when things were goin' sour...an' Mister Drew got wind of it an'...got rid of him. He's now another ink monster...mindless an' all 'round mean."

"Oh...oh dear me..." Betty hummed, rather disturbed (even for now, after everything else she's seen). "I really do wish there was some way t' free th' real-worlders from this terrible mess."

Boris shrugged helplessly. "Maybe we can find one...somehow. Either way...we're about there."

The room they stepped in seemed to be a general waiting area for the elevator. A hastily-painted Level K sign hung above their heads, and downstairs from the banister, they could see the shaft: cables intact, but empty. Boris knew that if they tried the button, the call wouldn't be heeded. They'd have to get to the end of the stairwell line...and without being seen by the Ink Demon or the Searchers.

"I'm guessin' there ain't a way to fix the elevator, huh?" Betty inquired of the wolf as they strolled down the stairs and looked things over.

"Naw, 'fraid not...I think it's layin' in pieces all th' way down th' cables...to Level S. Oof...that place is just...I don't wanna go there if I can help it."

"Then we won't, unless we have to," Betty reassured. "I feel if we go further anyway, we could get buried alive! Oooh...be good to get you all out of here, quick-like."

They were happy to find that at least the door to the stairwell was unlocked and unhindered, so they traversed that, careful with their creaky steps.

"Th' Ink Demon loves t' hang around this here series a' floors fer some reason...so it's best we stay quiet n' unnoticed. So far we had good luck with th' guy."

"Ohh dear, Boris, don't jinx it," Betty warned with a wave of her finger.

A few Searchers popped up to hinder their efforts on the way down, but they were easily disposed of...Boris however made sure they paused to listen for any sign of the Ink Demon's presence before continuing onward. Betty, though more than a little unsettled about him, started to wonder what would happen if they just talked to the monster. Would it be possible for him to have a voice in their universe? Any sort of powers that came with being a toon?

It was a good few flights before they came to the stairwell's dead end: Level 9.

Boris opened the door cautiously, then started scratching his chin as he found it all clear and they wandered out onto the floor. Betty observed the general feel of the place, as well as the variously-placed Alice Angel memorabilia. She hoped the poor girl was alright, and that they would find her quickly.

"Now let's see..." the wolf hummed. "Should be another stairwell that leads down to th' other floors from here. Ooh, yeah...elevator's definitely not gonna help...cage is busted..."

Suddenly, he had to stop as there was a tug on one of his suspenders. He turned back to see Betty, frozen solid but for her fearful shaking, her little fingers keeping a remarkably strong grip on the strap. "Betty? Y'okay there? What's gotcha all...shaky..."

He trailed off as soon as he followed her gaze to the head of the room, where a large visage of Alice hung above the door in the grand fashion of her advertising.

Looking up at it silently, almost thoughtfully, was the tall and emaciated form of the Ink Demon. It seemed that he hadn't noticed their presence at all; he was just standing there, looking...or whatever it was that he seemed to be doing, as he didn't even have a set of eyes.

Boris was not expecting him here...in the real world, Alice's sanctum was a protected place...much as she made it, anyway. But in the toon world, it seemed, Bendy's failed doppelganger could go anywhere it wanted to. He gulped and slowly took a hold of Betty's shoulders, inching them back. "'Kay, I think we can get outta here if'n we just stay slow n' quiet. Back toward th' elevator," he whispered. "Jus' stay with me, Betty."

They practically tip-toed backwards, away from a none-too-aware monster, and back from where they came.

Things were quiet...up until the wolf's foot came down on an empty soup can, sending it rolling off from between the bars of the balustrade and making him lose his balance slightly.

Clack-clack-CLANG-clack!

Instantly, the entirety of the walls started seething with cloudy shadows of ink, darkening the atmosphere. The ghastly impression of a heartbeat echoed all around, and the Ink Demon's head swiveled back with his painted grin quivering menacingly towards the intrusion.

Looking back, Boris would have thought that what he did next was entirely foolhardy...but it was the only thing that had come to mind right then, and he went for it. "Okay, scrap that, plan B it is!" he rattled out as he grabbed a surprised and shrieking Betty and took a flying leap for the elevator cables.

As the Ink Demon started running towards them, Boris tried not to look directly at the creature as he caught the cable with one hand like a monkey would a vine, and slid straight downwards into the darkness, Betty tightly held with the other arm.

It minute's drop seemed like much more than that as the next floor came into view, and when he could see some solid ground, he jumped down onto it and practically zoomed around the corner, down a nearby set of stairs. Only then did he stop once he reached the bottom, his back flattened against the yellowed wooden wall as he breathed and listened. Betty, her grip tight on the arm that was held around her, was holding her own mouth closed.

A few tense seconds passed...but there was no Ink Demon appearing. No heartbeat, no ink clouds, nothing. The darkness above was empty.

"...Okay...not t' jinx it, but...we might be safe," he informed, finally remembering himself and letting Betty go with a timid look.

She gave him a nervous (but friendly) chuckle back and patted his shoulder in thanks for his quick escape. Then, she looked around. "Oh, dear...it does look like a sea of ink down here, don't it?" she murmured, going up to the short balcony and leaning on the edge for a look outward.

The cavernous room was indeed flooded with the deep-black substance, and it looked for all the world to Boris like a hole into Hell. "Yeah...this is Level 14. I don't think I've been down here on this side...but I reckon we might be able t' take th' Butcher Gang's word...wait."

They stopped even whispering, listening to the heavy silence. Boris always reckoned that this place might've been for a large theater or screening room for the cartoons, considering all the projectors laying about in the other version. This one was just as foreboding and empty...save for the sound of quiet sobbing starting to echo in the chambers ahead of them.

The wolf's ears perked, and even Betty could now hear it, a quiet cadence of sorrow. She shook her head sadly. "Oh, dear me..."

Boris couldn't stand to wait any longer, after hearing that and feeling his heart dropping to his stomach. He had to see if Alice was in there. The wolf steeled his nerves and took out his ax again, gripping it tightly and tugging the lip of his trousers up. "Let's go."

"R-right behind ya," Betty stammered back, but she also took her frying pan in a firm grip and just waited to see what could be lurking around in the ink as they made their way down another set of creaky stairs.

Betty thanked her lucky stars that she was very well-versed in traveling through ink. She could feel some kind of force lurking within this gigantic shallow lake of it, perhaps the same force that gave life and movement to the Searchers and the Ink Demon. It felt very wrong somehow, like it was imbued with the power of someone who could never be a true Creator, even if they believed it so strongly.

"Ooh..." Betty sighed as she kept up with Boris, kicking away splashes of ink as they went. "So help me, if I ever meet Mister Drew someday, I feel I'd pop 'im one for allowing all this t' happen."

The wolf chuckled. "Oh trust me, th' feelin's mutual. Don't even know where Mister Drew could be now...I feel so much time's passed...but at least I doubt he could bother us now."

Walking through the threshold of the chambers ahead, Boris was tense, like he was expecting the Projectionist to appear at any minute through the narrow corridors. But they didn't hear his telltale splashing through the puddle, or the clicking together of his cables and continuous, hot lighting and clicking of reels empty of film. Instead, they saw other projectors, stuck in the ink. Many were broken...but some were surprisingly functional and showing flashes of a similar place to theirs...but in a mirrored realm.

"Here's where y'can see some of what th' real world is like," he pointed out as they passed more such projectors. "If ya watch long enough, y'might be able t'see th' Projectionist walkin' around...but I don't wanna stick around that long, I don't think..."

"Naw, me neither," Betty agreed. "I've had my fill a' this place already. We should hurry an' find yer friends."

As if on cue, close by from somewhere in the labyrinthine passage, there was a sudden shrill scream. Boris took the lead and they started on a running pace toward it, through the flooded tunnels until they came upon an open space at the very back portion of the room. There were projectors sticking out every which way from a black mound in the center. Each of the projectors showed a different view of the various floors of the impostor Alice Angel's domain in the other world...

And upon the top of the mound, there sat a figure wrapped in projector cables, bound fast to the others around her while a final one sat on a stand nearby, connecting to her head through a white, faceless mask. She looked lifeless, drooping tiredly from her kneeling position, her expression obscured. If it weren't for the dimly-lit halo just above her head, and the sight of her gloves, nobody would have guessed that it was the true Alice Angel, freeing her voice in pained cries from her prison of cables.

Boris's ears drooped sadly as he took in the somber sight, now probably feeling what Betty must have felt when she first saw him. "Aw...Alice...no..."

"Me oh my...who in th' world would do something like this..." Betty murmured, taking a step or two forward. "How'd she get here…?"

The toon wolf gulped. "Prob'ly similar t' me...jus' put in a convenient place after th' Machine was done." He stepped up as well, to the base of the mound...close enough to touch her, but his gloved hand was quivering. "...Alice? Alice, can y' hear me? It's me...Boris...are ya okay?"

She didn't seem to hear him, or take notice of their presence in general. She was lost, her body frozen there while her senses were somewhere else. There was another very quiet sob let out from behind the mask.

He backed up and looked around frantically, taking in the cables that seemed to disappear into the ink and probably also connected to the various projectors. When he spoke, he sounded about ready to cry, himself. "We...we gotta get her outta here...somehow…"

Betty had stepped up to her as well, waving her hand in front of the mask or her ears to see if there was a response, and then just studied the projectors and watched what they were showing onto the bare walls around. Then, she had to quirk one of her eyebrows at the main projector next to the prone angel, which seemed to have no vision. "What's this one for, I wonder..."

Boris took his attention away for a moment to also ponder that with a hum. "I dunno...but it's gotta be th' one that's keepin' her down here." He grimaced, and then raised his ax. "It has t' go."

"No, Boris, wait!" Betty raised her hands suddenly. "What if ya hurt her? Y'said she seemed ta be connected t' Susie's mind somehow...try cuttin' one a th' ones around her first."

He looked a little sheepish, looking between Betty and the main projector and back again, but eventually he nodded his agreement and chose one cable going from Alice and down to the ink. Bracing himself, he raised the weapon as high as it would go, and dropped it with as much force as he could muster.

THUNK.

...But it was like the cable was made of strong rubber. There wasn't even a dent in it.

Confused, he scratched his head, and tried again…

THUNK.

...Nothing. "What in th'…?"

Betty heard him trying over and over again, swinging the ax at several of the different threads. Humming, she decided to gently mess with the main projector, poking and prodding and looking for the off-switch. But there was none...it seemed to be running on nothing but ink and light.

"Susie..."

The toonette swiveled her head down to the captive angel, who was now murmuring something.

"Susie...I'm sorry...I can't...do this...I can't..."

Betty shook her head and tutted, wondering if she could just pull the mask off. "I think she's very much in a different place..."

Boris who was panting nearby, agreed in between breaths while he paused in his senseless, relentless chopping. "Yeah...bein' projected in th' real world in Susie's head...s'prob'ly what that main projector is. Her vision. It's gone now, though."

"Could be Susie's asleep," Betty guessed.

But, his head shook. "Th' ink creatures don't really sleep...don't need it, an' no sense a' time anyway. If we can't see through 'er eyes, then...Susie might've...died. Reclaimed by th' ink. Dunno how that could be though, but maybe that's why she screamed so loud..."

"Oh, dear...if she is...oh, poor girl..."

Boris took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Welp…if Susie ain't around...an' Alice is left...then she can be saved. Which means I'm gonna chop this thing t' BITS…!" he growled, lunging at the large projector with the ax.

"No, wait, Boris…!"

But despite the fact that the machine looked as fragile and prone to falling over as any other...it didn't. It was like a stone against the ax's various blows.

"Yer gonna break th' ax, Boris, stop!" Betty cried. "It ain't no use! Th' Machine's ink is somehow too strong, nothin' from th' studio can break it."

The wolf, panting hard, growled again. He looked almost feral now, like he could go on all fours. "Then what can?"

"We havta stop, calm down, an' think," Betty reminded him as she paced the floor and held her chin in her hand. "Only thing I can think of that's broken th' hold of th' ink here is...mine."

Boris's ears perked back up. "Oh, right...yer bag, an' inkwell! I'd been so angry, I plum forgot!"

"Ooh, let's see what we got here..." Betty muttered as she took her bag again to open it up and search. After a few seconds, she lit up. "Aha!"

Then, to Boris's eternal fascination, she pulled a giant pair of scissors out of her tiny bag. "Here we go! Lemme try these on th' cords. If it works, we can prob'ly free 'er from that thing without destroyin' anything on th' other side."

"Wow...why on Earth could you always need t' carry those around all the time?" he had to ask.

She just giggled and gave him a wink. "A girl should always be prepared. Now, stand back."

As he watched Betty wield the large pair of blades like it was no problem for her, the wolf simply placed his ax to the side and clasped his gloved hands together, as if in prayer. Dunno if it'll reach ya from here, but please, PLEASE let this work...

Gently, she let one of Alice's cords slip between the scissors, and...

SNNNP.

The cord was sliced cleanly through, spilling ink through it onto the floor. Once it was, a projector nearby immediately snapped off, thus blinding Alice to the other world.

There was an immediate reaction from the bound angel, her body snapping up with a muffled gasp. "What...what was that...?" she murmured fearfully. "P-please...stop..."

Boris clasped his hands up to his mouth. "Betty, I think it's workin'! Do another one!"

"Already on it," the toonette answered, moving the blades to the next cord.

But then, all too quickly, there came another disturbance: the groan of a Searcher, followed by several more popping up around them, echoing the same call.

The wolf immediately grabbed his ax. "Dangit, I knew this wouldn't be that easy!"

Seeing the ink creatures pop up, Betty almost withdrew the scissors. "W-what should we do?"

She heard the ax cleaving through one of the beasts, and looked up to see Boris rearing back for another blow. "You keep snippin', I'll keep these guys off ya! C'mon, hurry!"

"Oh, no problem!"

And so she did, trying to mow through the cords as quickly as a toon wielding a cumbersome pair of scissors could go, while Boris nearby was grunting with the effort of keeping a seemingly-endless army of creatures down. One by one, each of the projectors showing the other side clicked off, and with each picture falling into darkness, the angel was writhing...whether from pain, or panic, or the ever-loosening sensation of her bonds, it was hard to tell...but she was starting to fight as well.

Finally, the last cord was snapped, and the angel nearly toppled over from the mound as she slowly, but surely, started to get her arms free of the wrappings. "Nngh...stop...help...please...Susie...!" she called in a tired, stressed voice, in her mind reaching for the one she thought could still be there. The one she tried to help once, and so many times since...

And made me do such terrible things...

"Grrr!" Boris growled from nearby with another Searcher felled. "I can't...keep these things down...much longer! Betty, is she free?"

"Almost!" she called out reassuringly, dragging the scissors as she stepped up in front of a very shaken Alice Angel. "Just need t' get this mask off!" Betty placed her fingers along the seams and pulled, but it seemed very stuck on. "C'mon, you can do it..."

"Betty, y'better hurry up, I can't...AH!" he suddenly shouted as his ax swung wildly, this time missing the head of a Searcher as it pounced him...followed by another, and another, each one grabbing and trying to weigh him down, pulling into the cursed ink...

The toonette looked up from her work with a gasp. "Oh, no, Boris! Dear oh dear, think, Betty, think...!"

Boris was calling out to her as he was being dragged ever downward into darkness, and Alice was very nearly free, but exhaustively pulling on her bonds. The mask still didn't seem to want to come off...so, with a harsh exhale, Betty took the scissors and swung them around like a sword, straight into the main projector.

Instantly, the thing fell heavily from its stand and crashed into the mound beside them, casting light on many of the Searchers in its wake and surprising them enough to make them back off.

There were still a few though who had about taken Boris down with them, and so Betty had instantly rushed up to snatch his wrist with her hands and pull him back. "Oh, no ya don't...!" the woman grunted. "Let...go!"

"Betty, please...!" the wolf sputtered out in a whimpered plea, "Don't you get dragged down too! They're too strong! Just lemme go, I'll be fine, I'll find a way out again somehow...!"

"I don't abandon my friends, I ain't about to start now!" Betty reassured and tugged harder, digging in her heels. "C'mon, shake yerself free!"

"I...I don't think I can...!"

"You can, kick yer feet, c'mon...!"

The tug-of-war seemed to be evenly-matched, but even now the Searchers were starting to regroup...they would both be taken into the Machine's inky abyss at this rate...

Until suddenly, a new voice rang out in the room, followed by what seemed like a flash of light.

"Get...OUTTA HERE!"

As if they were commanded, the Searchers did indeed give up their hold and the chase, and fled back into the inky space from which they came. With one last tug, Betty practically whipped Boris out from the brink of his close demise, and together they tumbled back against the mound, just trying to catch their breath. The light from all of the projectors had faded, leaving the bright golden lights above and around them as the only source in the dingy underground pools.

"Now that...that was more of a workout than I needed," Betty said as she wiped her forehead of any gathered sweat and patted Boris on the shoulder as he got back up on his knees. "Y' alright there? Anythin' broken?"

The wolf gulped and took another breath before shaking his head. "Nah...thanks a lot, Betty...ya saved me again. Remind me t' put in fer a life a' servitude when we get out."

"Oh pish," Betty giggled. "Ain't nothin' ya owe me. An' actually...I don't think I did th' savin' this time."

With that, they both realized just who might be out of their bind, and looked up to see Alice Angel doubled over on her own hands and knees, trying hard to stay upright. Her halo light was dim, but steady, and her hair was pretty much all over the place. The mask that had obscured her features had been torn in half, revealing a lopsided Alice Angel mask, akin to the Bendy mask that another certain ink person had worn. Boris thought that perhaps it was simply used as a cruel irony of her situation.

"Oh...golly..." the angel coughed out and looked up with a pair of tired and blinking pie-cut eyes. "What...what happened...where am I...?"

Boris's heart jumped back into his chest with relief upon seeing her, and he immediately got up, also helping Betty with him before he leaped to the mound and leaned down to touch the other toonette's shoulder. "Alice...yer back...it's me, Boris. Remember?"

"Boris...?" she echoed, blinking again as if trying to regain the focus in her vision, before her eyes went wide and she gasped, tears forming in her eyes. "Boris! It is you! You're...you're okay...!"

"'Course I am!" the wolf smiled. "Y'know me, I can bounce back from anythin'. I'm just glad you're okay now!" he exclaimed and took the tired girl into a tight hug. "Yer free from that thing, safe n' sound...!"

Alice couldn't help but giggle as she was swept into her friend's embrace, letting the tears flow. "I...I think I'm okay, yeah...I feel drowsy though...like I woke up from a long nap..."

"Heh, y'pretty much did..." Boris answered, glancing over at the broken projector lying nearby, and at all the other ones that surrounded her like a personal theater. "I got so much t' tell ya, an' t' ask ya..."

"So do I...but for Heaven's sakes...maybe we can do it after a little bit of rest...? This little angel's...pretty out of it, much as I hate to admit."

"Heheh...yeah, I imagine so...I'd like t' get outta here too, b'fore them nasty Searchers think t' come back fer us."

Nearby, Betty watched the friends' reunion with a happy sigh. The day's exhaustion was forgotten upon feeling a sense of accomplishment for helping another toon out of a very scary moment...too scary now, in fact, if she were to stop and think about it. She went to gather the over-sized scissors back up before going to join the two, waiting politely to be introduced.

Boris stood and managed to help Alice to her feet as well, letting her get her strength back. Despite how utterly mentally taxed she was, she did at least manage to pop some wrinkles out of her dress and wipe off some remaining ink. She looked up and met her friend's eyes with a smile, and then met Betty's with a tilted head. "Oh? Who's your new friend?"

The wolf chuckled. "Y'don't recognize her? She wandered into this place an' actually helped me outta my own prison...an' she just cut ya outta yours, too. She wants t' help us outta here. All of us. Betty, meet th' one an' only Alice Angel...Alice, th' one an' only Betty Boop."

It took a second for the name to register in her mind, but when it did, Alice's hands flew to her mouth in shock. "I don't believe it! The Betty Boop! I can't believe I didn't recognize you...you were my idol, starting out!" She did a little curtsy. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Oh! Th' pleasure's all mine, dear!" Betty did her own little curtsy back. "I wish I could've gotten t' know all a' you kids of Joey Drew Studios, back in th' day. Always love meetin' new toons."

"Yes, well..." Alice's friendly look dropped slightly into a sad one, as her memories started trickling back. "The good old days weren't really...always so good. Oof..." one of her gloved hands went to her forehead to cradle it. "I'm sorry...I can't really...think straight right now. All this horrible ink..."

"It's okay, Alice..." Boris took her gently by the shoulders. "We should be gettin' you to a safe place t' rest. Hmm...we could prob'ly climb back up th' elevator cables...if we can avoid th' Ink Demon, we oughta get back up to th' safe house. Then we can talk some more."

Betty hummed. "Didn't th' Butcher Gang say there was also a door here somewhere t' go through?"

"Yeah, but they also said they never got through it...th' ink ocean blocked it," Boris pointed out.

Alice listened to this and giggled. "Well...we could just take the elevator."

The other two stopped to look at her, blinking. "Er...I thought ya destroyed th' elevator? Long time ago, t'keep anybody else from gettin' in th' Ink Machine?" Boris reminded her.

The angel sifted through her memories for a second, and then giggled and waved her hand. "Oh, that...I had some of the Searchers fix it up again after a while...when I didn't think anyone would be able to use it. It's good as new; looked too dingy to be left there. Although, probably should also have them fix the cages on some of the floors..."

Boris's mouth hung agape at this new information, then he slapped his forehead. "Great, we could've taken a second t' test th' elevator b'fore fallin' down th' cables..."

Betty couldn't help but give a hearty laugh. "Well, I hafta say, that's real convenient! Let's get a move on."

"Yeah...let's," the wolf nodded with a hum, giving Alice a playful quirk of an eyebrow. "An' once we're back safe an' you've eaten somethin', yer gonna tell us how exactly you can ask a Searcher t' do anything."

The angel giggled timidly. "Sorry. I've...ah...got some 'splainin' to do, I guess you could put it."

The return trip back to the safe house past Heavenly Toys was quite a bit easier from there on in, at least after getting out of the squished elevator cage on Level K, much to the girls' amusement and Boris's slight chagrin ("Oh dangit, now I need new pants!").

But, he could never be too mad at that moment. After all...he had one of his friends back.

It was time now to think about the other one.