Vingt [Movie night in hell.] [Trigger Warnings – Murder.]
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Henry could only assume that Sammy's encounter with the Projectionist had ended in a splattering. Buddy could shake and pat him all he wanted, but this whole loop went down as badly as the others. "B... Buddy…" Henry ground out, vision darkening and flickering. He didn't hear the humming yet, but he knew, soon, she would rip Buddy back into hell. "Run."
But that sweet, stubborn wolf stayed, gave a shake of his head, kept trying to wake Henry further up.
"Please… Buddy…" Some swaying, darkened figure hummed in the corridor. Its shadowy form sashayed coolly closer.
From further down, clear as the blasting of a war trumpet, Sammy Lawrence cried out, "Susie!"
Her melted half drew back from her teeth, and Susie turned, claws out for the intruder coming her way. The intact half of her face sneered at Sammy. "Oh, didn't learn the first time?"
Sammy hefted the axe and grit his teeth.
The twisted angel's good eye widened a fraction, flicking about to take in the face he hadn't hidden under the mask. "Ha." Like he was a threat against her in this place, where she ruled with near perfection. "Teeth and eyes do not a real man make, false prophet..." she trailed off and her good eye flicked to the light behind Sammy.
The Projectionist lumbered into view, his light burning bright as it fell across her. His speakers let out a rattling growl.
"And you brought our beloved shut-in to help. Aw, Sammy…" Her face pinched in a snarl as she ran at him full tilt. "You're such a coward."
Sammy turned the axe in his grip and swung for the angel. He hooked her embedded halo and knock her off balance, but she turned on him with a screech. She missed the strap of his overalls completely and barely grazed his upper arm.
The ink man grimaced and swung again, the blade halting in Susie's wiry grasp, her good eye blazing with wildcat rage.
She didn't have time to say anything as a set of oily, black cables ensnared her limbs and ripped her backwards. The Projectionist dragged her back towards him, light blazing and fixed on her malformed face.
"Don't you dare!" she screamed and slapped the side of the projector. "I saved you from that wretched ink!"
Norman grasped the arm she'd swung, growling static.
"You goddamned idiot!" Her sharp claws grasped for his neck as her voice climbed in pitch. "I was the one who gave you life after what he-"
Crack.
With one blow, the Projectionist struck Susie the same way she had him… but rather than startle her into silence, he'd instead snapped her neck. A thing already made fragile from the slit throat she permanently bore. He tilted his projector to the side a little, light dimming as he took in her slackened, ripped face.
A deep hum, and he set her on the floor carefully.
"Holy shit," the ink man breathed from his crouched place beside Henry. Sammy rested his fingertips to Henry's face, cautious but needing to touch. "Henry."
"It that bad?" he muttered from the floor.
"No, no. You're fine. You're… I was right about Norman. He seems to… remember enough about prior loops. He knows my face, at least."
Henry blinked groggily. Never let it be said he was used to concussions. "M'kay. So… Norman's safe?"
Sammy smiled and nodded. "Yes. He's safe."
That helped. "... okay. Norman?"
But he didn't turn, still casting his light about the hall.
"He's deaf. But he can read lips." The ink man gave a half-smile.
Henry blinked slowly and reached to his left for something. It felt like a chunk of wood. He gave it a gentle toss, and it bounced and rolled until it stopped against Norman's left foot.
The Projectionist turned and fixed Henry with his light. It wasn't the blinding amber flame from the depths, but calmer and better fitting for the lit corridor.
"Hey, Norman. Thank you for coming."
The projector tilted curiously.
"I don't know how this works, but if you helped, then you must remember something." He turned to look over at Buddy, now cowering in the corner. He didn't cover his eyes anymore, but he was hunched and shaking like crazy where he was.
Norman gave a nod and turned fluidly to look over at Buddy.
Buddy, ears pinned back and eyes wide upon being spotted, gave a timid wave.
The speaker on Norman's chest hissed with brown noise, and his inner reels clicked. It almost sounded like words, but not enough to decipher anything.
Buddy waved again at Norman, smiling as his ears came up. Norman hissed static again and lumbered forward. He stood for a moment, observing the wolf, then he lay a massive hand to Buddy's head.
The wolf flinched, then gave a nervous smile.
Sammy smirked and gave Henry a sideways glance. "He did the same to me."
"Guess I'm next."
The Projectionist let Buddy be and headed their way. He reached down for Henry, but didn't wait for the man to grasp his hand. Instead, he wadded up most of Henry's shirt and hoisted him like a rag doll from the floor with a rapid series of clicks. His light grew bright, studying the squinting, weathered face that filled the field of his light.
"Norman." Sammy's voice fell to a low, calm lilt, reaching for the axe at his hip. "Easy." He only then remembered that the amalgam couldn't hear him. The axe stayed in reach, however.
But Henry, feet dangling, stared into the glowing eye of the machine. "Norman Polk."
Norman gave a nod, slow and creaking.
Henry grunted. "Do you remember me?"
The Projectionist didn't move.
"My name is Henry Stein. I was here when this place first started. I was lead animator." The cartoonist reached out and lay a hand on a nearby shoulder. "I knew you. You were the leading Projectionist for this studio." He smiled tightly, shoulders begging for a break. "You'd invite me up into the booth to get a look at how my work looked on screen." And to watch Sammy work from somewhere he couldn't see.
The clicking slowed, and Norman let Henry's weight pull down on his arm. The cables of his back tittered and rippled. The speaker on his chest crackled. "Hhhhhn…" But that's all he managed.
"Yeah. I'm Henry."
The Projectionist grumbled and set him on his feet before lumbering away down the hall.
Buddy loped over to the cartoonist and gave a look of concern.
Henry rubbed his neck, the flesh stinging from the tightness his shirt collar gave. "I'm good." His gaze flicked to Sammy, who was staring after Norman with a snarl curling his lips. "Sammy. I'm okay."
"Dammit." He didn't take his eyes off the amalgam that slunk over to the corpse of the angel. He turned away when he took her by an arm and leg, dragging her out of sight. "I… I thought he was all there. I shouldn't have. He almost-"
Henry rested a hand to Sammy's arm. "Hey. He remembers who we are and some of who he is. That's a start." But the man frowned, brows crooked in puzzlement. "... is he coming back?"
"I... don't know." Sammy raised a hand to his mouth and called out, "Norman?" before remembering that he was deaf. Again. What a thing to get used to.
Buddy blinked and scampered down the hall after Norman, ears perked.
"Buddy, wait!"
But the wolf was out of sight in seconds.
"Jeez." Henry pushed himself to his feet. "Teenagers."
"Youth is wasted on the young," Sammy muttered with a nod.
The friendly wolf peeked around the corner, brow furrowed their way. He waved them over with a gloved hand and vanished once more.
Sharing a look, the two followed Buddy down the hall.
The wolf stood next to an opened door, ears sagging and wringing his gloved hands before him. He looked up at the duo and gestured to the doorway with a jerk of his head.
Norman hadn't just dragged Susie away from view, he'd found a room off the main hall that held an old cot, along with a plethora of random junk. He'd laid Susie on the cot so her face was showing her good side, the melted half face down. Her hair had been smoothed out and her dress adjusted. She didn't look dead, just resting.
It was worse, somehow.
Henry sighed softly and looked back to Sammy. "Well… I didn't want this."
A nod. "Agreed."
Norman turned from the prone angel and headed out of the room, closing the door behind him. He headed slowly down the hall to the far end, not stopping save for a wire reaching back for someone behind him.
The wire chose Buddy, who looked more curious than scared.
Sammy and Henry had no choice but to follow.
The Projectionist stopped, finally, at another empty room, his projector turning to look down the hall at Sammy and Henry. He pointed to the wall before him with his free hand, then turned to the blank wall completely.
Sammy spoke up first, brows furrowed. "I'm… not sure I understand."
"A blank wall isn't the worst thing we could be seeing."
Buddy, a curled hand to his muzzle, stared up at Norman. He blinked before he too looked at the wall. He dropped his hand and turned to Henry, eyes wide as he realized what was going on. Taking the wire in one hand and walking to the wall, he reached up on tiptoe and pulled a projector screen down from the ceiling. The wolf smiled and gave a thumbs up to Norman and received a nod in return and the wire retracting from his waist.
Henry's brows lifted. "Oh." He stepped behind Norman. "You want to show us something?"
Sammy hummed uncertainly but stood near Henry.
The Projectionist hummed something from his speakers, then his light changed.
Susie -the real Susie, not the melted angel on the bed- smiled up at the camera.
The ink man gasped silently at the screen. "It's… it's memories?"
No one replied, focused on the screen.
Her grin grew. "I got a date tomorrow night, Norm."
"That so, Miss?"
She giggled, cheeks darkening with her smile. "You know you can call me Susie, silly."
Norman's hand came into view as he waved her off. "Jus' polite is all. So, who's the lucky fella?"
She gave him a look, grin mischievous before she pointed with her little finger to someone on the right.
The camera turned to focus on a tall, rail thin blond. He was scowling at a set of sheet music as a plump, older man with a nice hat gesticulated at the paper.
"Jack's a lil' old for ya, ain't he?"
Susie covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Jeez, Norm."
"Naw. There's no way you got Sammy Lawrence to take you out. The man works as late as Mister Drew. A peculiar fella for sure." A set of arms crossed in the lower periphery of the camera's sight. "Ya could have any man here and ya go for him?"
She grinned and rested her chin in her palm to look down from the projectors booth. "He took a week to decide, but we're doing it."
The camera shook slightly as Norman chuckled. "Y'all have fun."
"Thanks."
Henry frowned at the projection as it wound down, frozen on Susie's beaming face. "So… you remember being friends with Susie?"
The Projectionist growled some static, and the screen lit up again. This time, the camera was pointed at a smirking Sammy Lawrence, papers in his hand.
"What's the old record? Five?"
Sammy's smile grew tight. "Yes. We have hit seven. Seven rewrites for a single goddamn tune."
Norman looked around the room, then back at Sammy. "Gotta be a pain in the ass."
The blond grit his teeth. "You have no idea. God forbid I suggest using something twice. Motif's can go beyond reusing the opening number, but what do I know? I only write the damn music!" Sammy's free hand shot up, fingers extended and wriggling with tension. "Has to be fresh! Has to be new! The man knows as much about music as I do about installing a toilet."
Norman chuckled. "Never seen you this worked up."
"This is nothing. I'm told I change color when I scream!" Sammy stood and cracked his neck. "Since everyone's off on lunch break, I'm heading to my office for some actual work."
"Work got you worked up so you gotta do more work?"
The blond stormed out of the room but called out. "I find refuge in music, Norman. Not even another rewrite can take that away."
"Have fun!" Norman shook his head, the view on screen moving with it. "Crazy."
Beside Henry, Sammy tensed, his breathing slow and steady but controlled enough to show he wasn't alright.
The view changed again. The camera angle showed a rectangular window, looking out at the building's roof. Sitting on a ventilation pipe was Henry, and standing nearby was Sammy, Sammy flicked a cigarette butt off the side of the building, then smiled Henry's way.
The view cut to the dark stairwell as Norman made his way down the stairs and back to the Music Department. He didn't make it up to the booth before Joey emerged from the stairs and fixed him with a grin.
"Norman, just the man I was looking for!" Joey blocked the path to the second step with his body, left arm to the wall. "Say, you haven't seen Henry or Sammy around, have you? I gotta talk with both of them pronto!"
Norman shrugged, and it made the view tilt. "Up on the roof havin' a smoke last I saw 'em."
Joey frowned, lips pursed. He pointed with the hand on the wall. "Together?"
"Yup."
The director's left eye twitched, but his smile split from under his mustache. "Thank you, Norman!" He clapped a hand to the man's shoulder and scooted around him. "Lemme just get out of your way."
Sammy covered his mouth, amber eyes bright in the dark.
Henry sighed angrily and glowered at the fake smile of Joey Drew on the screen. He'd been bluffing his way through an answer the whole goddamn time he'd tried driving he and Sammy apart. "... Sammy?"
The ink man nodded, pulling his hand from his mouth. "I…" He swallowed and closed his eyes. A rising ache in his chest that grew the longer he watched what Norman showed him. This one was about the man with the projector for a head, and it felt worse than the one he'd had about the roof. "I-I feel something. Bad. I need to-"
Henry nodded. "Okay. Do you want me with you or-"
"Alone. Please."
"Okay."
"Booth." He turned and jogged out of the room. He didn't know why he needed to hide in the booth, but he knew he needed to hide. The booth in the corner came into view and he quickly pulled the door open and shut just as he-
-stood frozen before the pit before him. Down in the studio's guts, where the ink bubbled up and swished like a languid lake. Sammy could watch it all day. All night. SO far away from the noises of the people in this hellhole. Far from all the noise all the talking the shoes scuffing on floorboards the ink going drip drip
Sammy. dear delightful Sammy.
The blond's breathing hitched at the vast gentleness in those gargled words.
our talented man. our musician.
His black arms wrapped around his middle as he felt something in his heart break. So much was already given over to the ink. He craved to give it more. To prove his love that it gave him so freely. So much love… for him, of all creatures…
that man… that Joey… he called us up from our home. put us in pipes and puddles, Sammy. he puts you in pipes and puddles too. we have seen it.
Sammy let out a soft sob in the dark.
we hate it. why please that man? why please any man?
why… when you can please a God?
The man bent forward and vomited, ink black and slimy slithered free.
he wants you
HORNS. SMILE. AMEN.
he loves you like we love you
Sammy
Sammy
"Sammy?"
He turned, slow and pained at looking away from that perfect pool. The metallic tang in his mouth grew with his exhale. Behind him, Norman held out a flashlight. His blue eyes welled with ink at the stinging brightness.
The man's brow furrowed. "Hey bud… you okay?" He took a step, just one. "I haven't seen you in a while. You…" The older man's face grew etched with concern. "Jesus, Sammy. Did ya fall in?" His gray eyes swept over him, unable to ever understand.
The searing rage was instant and uncontrollable. "You will not take him from me!"
"Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you-"
Sammy rasped as ink ran from his eyes. It was growing hard to see, but he knew the ink would help him.
Keep him happy. Keep him safe. Set him free of Joey's claws. "Stay away!"
Norman held both hands up, concern turning to fear. "Sam-"
He screamed and lunged, swinging with slicked, black hands.
"Whoa!" Norman stumbled backwards but got back his footing. He circled around, facing the blond and shuffling his feet. "Easy. Easy now. I just wanna help. What'd you do?"
The inked man heaved a ragged, gargling breath. "You took him from me." He lifted the axe at his hip and bared his teeth, slicked with blood and ink. "You… made him leave. I know it!"
"I don't know watcha mean, Sammy!"
"I don't care! I have nothing!" He swung the blade in an arch through the air.
"Put it down, man! I don't wanna hurt you!"
They went in a circle, Norman with his hands raised and eyes darting for a way out of this.
No way out. No one gets out. Sammy couldn't have anyone take the one thing that loved him away from him!
Sammy. give him to us. we will keep him. we want him.
The blond screamed, and the ink that consumed him curled into his mouth and covered his eyes completely.
"Jesus!"
The ink man swung, the blade splitting Norman's throat wide open.
The projectionist inhaled, a hand reaching for the gaping, screeching hole in his throat… but his legs buckled and down he went, falling painfully slow into the ocean of ink behind him.
The ink man stared without eyes, his grimace spreading into a slow, blackened grin.
good boy.
Tasting blood and ink, praised by the black pools below, Sammy threw back his head and-
-screamed bloody murder. Dear god, what the hell had he done? Sharp breaths through clenched teeth and eyes streaming thinned ink, Sammy let out a wounded cry and slammed himself against the back of the booth. "Fuck!" He killed Norman for nothing! The man never did anything to him but he'd- Oh god! He'd been reduced to pure rage and the desperate need to be loved. Even if it were some monster or some demon.
"Sammy?"
"No!" He recoiled from that sweet, calm voice. He didn't deserve comfort after what he'd remembered. "D-don't look at me!" He covered his eyes and dug as hard as he could into his scalp. "God, just leave me alone!" Just let him rot there in the booth like he deserved.
Henry drew back, his heart sinking. He turned to the wolf not far behind him. "Buddy."
The wolf perked, but his face was still bunched with worry.
"Uh… keep an eye on Norman. Can you do that?"
The wolf nodded sharply and loped off to the amalgam waiting in the room.
The cartoonist sighed, jaw set. There'd never been a reaction like this. "Sammy." Henry leaned against the booth's side and pulled off his glasses. "I'm… I'm gonna wait out here for you, okay?"
A low moan followed by a strangled sob.
Henry winced, then glanced at his glasses before pulling free a section of his shirt. "I'm here." He cleaned a lens, frowning at the growing crack in the left one. "Not going anywhere. Promise."
Several minutes passed, and a soft voice wafted from the booth. "... Henry?"
"Yes?"
"I… I need your help."
"What do you need?"
A wet exhale. "I just… I need- I need you in here with me. C-can we do that?"
Brows furrowed, Henry approached the doors to the booth. "We can. The way we do when the demon is close?"
"Please."
"Okay." He turned around with his back to the door. "Whenever you're re-"
He didn't get to finish as cool, black arms wrapped around his stomach and pulled him into the booth. The arms shook as hard as the chilly torso against his back.
"Henry." He clung, cold and shivering like he'd been caught in a downpour.
The cartoonist lay a hand over one laced over his stomach. "I'm here."
Sammy's breath hitched, and his head fell forward to rest against Henry's right shoulder. His tear-choked voice was barely above a whimper. "I killed Norman." A soft whine. "I sliced his throat. I-I'm why he screams like that when Bendy rips his head off. It-"
"Shh. It's okay."
Sammy jerked with a sob. "It's not."
The cartoonist swallowed. "Yeah. I know." He reached backward to rest his hand to the back of Sammy's head. "But we're fixing it, and… and I'm not leaving you. Okay?"
Henry was not the Ink Demon. Henry would not harm him. Sammy broke completely and sagged against the man he held in his arms, tears soaking the mosstone fabric of Henry's shirt in moments.
Henry swallowed the painful lump in his throat, eyes shut as he did his best to soothe the wounded man. "I'm right here, Sammy." Henry kept his right hand rubbing gently against the back of Sammy's head and neck. "It's gonna be okay."
But he didn't know who he was trying to assure anymore.
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