Vingt-trois - Crowded, but empty and so loud.

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They cleared Bertrum from the to-do list of getting the haunted house started, only for an additional problem to arise. Keeping Norman alive when Bendy inevitably stormed down the hall.

Sammy crossed his arms and gave the way to the Railway a grim look. "I know this part. The switch down below and the one up top, where the Butcher clones usually wander."

"Yes." Henry adjusted his glasses. "So. Norman can get the switch down there, you can get the switch in the other room, and Buddy can…" He paused before focusing onto Buddy and Norman.

Norman was making a series of gestures and grumbling static, and Buddy was nodding and giving hand gestures back.

"... Buddy?"

The wolf nodded his way, and the Projectionist looked over.

"Are you okay with waiting by the master switches? Bendy's never attacked there."

Buddy frowned but nodded back.

"Thank you. You just have to throw the switch when the light blinks, okay?"

Buddy flashed a thumbs up and patted Norman's arm on his way out. He could do that easy!

Henry turned to Norman, trying his best to smile. "Norman, there're switches down there. Can you flip them for us?"

A tilt.

"If you don't want to, I can. You just have to flip them and wait for me to come get you. Once the haunted house opens, we can get going."

The amalgam hummed static and pointed to himself and mimicked removing a jar lid with his hands.

"... here's how I see it. Bendy shows up after you flip the switch and come to the booth after me, right?" The cartoonist held his hands palms up. "If you flip the switches and don't come up right away, maybe he won't come at all?"

Norman tilted his head at Henry. Even for him, this didn't make much sense.

"I mean… I could do it and you could wait by the house if you wanted to? I'd have asked Buddy, but Buddy might freeze up in the dark. Sammy could do it-"

"Not happening," the ink man muttered with folded arms.

"-but if he falls in or gets hunted down by Bendy, he might forget everyone and be back at square one." But when he thought about it, sending Norman down there was a bad idea. He didn't want Norman to get his head ripped off after all this progress! "Tell ya what. I'll go down to get the switches. You can wait for me nearby to make sure we meet up at the haunted house. That better?"

The amalgam shrugged and turned his light to Buddy's way out, then back to Henry. A dismissive wave of his hand, and the Projectionist's lumbering gait headed to the depths.

That left Henry and Sammy.

Sammy tilted his head back to frown down at Henry. "So."

"So."

The ink man raised a hand to tick the points off on his fingers. "So, you endanger yourself once more." That tone could press anyone into agreement, icy and heated in one sharp sentence. "What will you do if Bendy shows himself? Hm? Hide in the booth?"

"Yes?"

"Oh no. No way in hell. You aren't going into a gift box for that beast to rip apart."

The cartoonist scowled. "He's never broken a booth." Save for the one booth that looked like it had exploded from the inside. He didn't want to know how that happened.

"Oh, but with all we're doing? He might!" The ink man sank down and prodded a finger to Henry's chest. "You are not-"

He grasped the offending wrist to still the stabbing fingertip. "Sammy." His tone was firm, brows low and pinched. "Even if I get killed, I always come back."

The ink man huffed, shoulders hunched. "True. But…"

"No buts. We have to finish this." He rubbed his thumb against the slick, black coating of Sammy's wrist and let him go.

Sammy withdrew, still dour as a February day. "Ah, just... do be careful, won't you?"

"You too."

Sammy managed a small smile, half-assed though it was. "Very well. Until then."

Henry nodded and headed over to where the booth sat. "Yeah. Until then."

The one good thing about going down stairs was that of the many things Henry ended up doing, this action didn't hurt his back. Bending down, crouching, falling over, swinging the axe, they all hurt somehow. But stairs? Well, Henry could do stairs all day.

But being down by the old railway was weird without Norman lurking around. The Projectionist stayed close but well out of the way. Switches flipped and platform raising, the cartoonist headed back up the stairs. Almost too easy.

To his right was a low grumble, and it wasn't coming from Norman.

Correction, it was too easy. Henry was stuck on what to do; run to Norman and book it for the haunted house or hide in the booth?

The noise emitted again, followed by a series of thumps akin to uneven footfalls. From the same direction came drifting rings of feathery black that spiraled over the walls.

Screw it. No time to run. He had to hide!

It was… a little weird to be in a booth without Sammy there with him. Not uncomfortable, but kinda… lonely. But it'd be over soon. Maybe Bendy would just… wander by and see no one there. Maybe he'd not come by at all. The telltale rings that signaled Bendy was close faded away a minute after he'd hidden away. The cartoonist counted back from a hundred, just to give the ink demon more time to be away from him. He wondered how Sammy was doing, able to sense the ink demon but not in the right place to help keep Henry safe from-

A hiss of static from the side. Not where Bendy had lurked. Norman thumped up into view, his light sweeping slowly across the path, looking down the stairs into the depths and emitting a confused noise at not finding Henry.

What was he doing? He knew what was coming! He had to! He'd told him to wait off to the side, out of the way of Bendy's known path! "C'mon, Norman. Get out of here." Henry grit his teeth and squinted in the light that shone on the booth door as the amalgam turned his way. "Please."

But the Projectionist tilted his head at the booth, not reaching for it yet. He didn't have to wait long, as a sudden bang broke the ticking of the reels and everything flickered under a film of red.

The Projectionist turned to the ink demon and screamed. His arms raised up as Bendy leaped into sight.

The demon's teeth ground out a low noise and he punched Norman with all his might.

Norman shook his projector in a daze. He raised his hands to strike but backed away, stopping to place an arm over the booth door to block it. Then he let out a growling hum and rustled the cables on his back.

Henry's heart sank. This is what he'd wanted to avoid!

The ink demon… paused. It let out a moan and the spines on its back shifted and shook with a noise not heard but felt. It made Henry's lungs hum from the depth of its pitch.

Norman growled and cranked his light to its brightest. He let out a screech only for Bendy's gloved hand to cut him off with a potent punch to the projector.

There was a rubbery clatter of cables and metal, and the Projectionist fell to the side.

Henry didn't even breathe as the ink demon fixed onto him through that tiny gap, so close his horns were tapping the booth door.

Bendy stared eyelessly into the booth, smile shaking as he let out a low, angry whine. His humanoid hand raised to the gap to lie over the opening like a cage of inked fingers. Bendy watched a moment, then turned like a flinch to Norman on the floor as the amalgam moaned in pain. The ink demon let out a sound crossed between a moan and a sigh, before pivoting and stomping away. He left Norman on the ground where he'd fallen, sulking out of sight.

The red film ended in a flashbulb of bright sepia, and Henry could breathe again. He slumped against the back of the booth, eyes to the ceiling. What the hell was that?

Well… he couldn't hide in here forever. He kicked the door open with a foot, only to find it wedged against Norman's leg with but an arm-wide gap to look out from. "N-" Right. Deaf. Okay. The cartoonist crouched down, back protesting the entire time. He reached out and grabbed a cable, giving it a gentle tug. Nothing. A harder tug. Nothing. "Come on. Norman, please." A hard and fast series of tugs until the amalgam on the floor was jerking with the motions. Heavy sleeper? Maybe.

The Projectionist rolled away from the assault on his cables and pushed himself onto his knees. He cast his light around in confusion and froze on Henry.

Henry waved, ready to bolt if that blow made Norman lose something vital in the memory department. "Hey, Norm."

The Projectionist waved back, slow but aware. With a series of creaking and ticking reels, Norman got to his feet.

"You good?"

A wobbly hand with the palm to the floor.

"... any pain?"

A head shake.

"Okay. Let's… Norm. Please don't do that again."

The only response the tired man received was a hand to his head that quickly ruffled his already messy hair.

"Alright, alright! Jeez!" He swatted playfully at the hand and was let free of the ruffling. It wasn't his fault Norman towered! Was his hair really that entertaining? He'd ask Sammy later. That might be fun.

They headed back out to the haunted house entry. Two dark figures stood nearby.

Buddy's ears were pinned back, and he fidgeted with his fingers, but he lit up with they came into sight.

Sammy looked up and stuffed his axe back into its pant loop. "Ah, there you two are!" Sammy approached with drawn brows. "We heard, ah… screeching." He gestured vaguely to Norman, who was already extending a cable to Buddy with a grumble. "And I felt… him. Close enough that I worried, but I couldn't… couldn't pinpoint just where the ink demon was."

The cartoonist nodded slowly, peering over his glasses. "Yeah. Something, uh… something different happened." Henry took a moment to think over just what he'd seen outside of the booth. "Bendy was different. He acted… like he knew something was off."

Sammy's mouth fell ajar but shut swiftly. "What happened?"

Henry blinked, hand to the side of his head. "I… I don't know." He squinted at the floor with a drawn mouth and low brows. "It was like… they were talking. Like an argument. He just…" He looked up at Sammy with a blink. "He punched Norman and stared at me a bit. Tried to speak? I don't know… Then he ran off."

But Sammy's wide eyes and growing smile melted any apprehension. "Bendy broke his pattern! He's done it before, when he slaps the booth or grunts, but this is huge!"

Henry nodded. "We're doing something right. I don't know what, but we're doing it!" He cracked a wry smile. "We're getting there."

"We are." Sammy's smile was gentle, amber eyes lidded as they fixed on Henry's. The ink man swallowed. "Well. We… need to get to the main room."

"Yeah. But before we do." The man glanced over at Buddy and Norman, who were both occupied with the haunted house railway car that was slowly making its way to the loading area. Buddy sat in the one poised for launch, ears perked.

"Yes, little sheep?"

Henry quickly gave Sammy a peck on the cheek. Just because he could.

Sammy let out a low whine that ended in a half-hidden chuckle. "Oh, goodness." His smile grew as he lay a hand to that cheek. He was grateful he couldn't blush like this!

Henry shook his head with a small smile and headed for the haunted house cars. "Let's go."

The ink man shook himself from his dazed sway and followed with long strides. "Question. Is riding in the cars necessary?"

"Well…" The cartoonist smirked as Buddy rode out of sight into the main room. "He seems to like it."

"Mm. I'll walk."

"Same."

Norman was way ahead of them, following Buddy's car with a concerned hum of his speakers.

There was no music in the haunted room this round. No brute Buddy, either. The car kept traveling to the depths beyond the door, but the wolf adjusted his lanky frame to get out before it pushed through the doors.

Norman quickly extended a cable to Buddy, who welcomed the cable around his wrist with no complaint. This place wasn't so scary when Norman was so keen on keeping him in one piece! He seemed a good friend to have, even if he couldn't fully remember who Norman Polk had been.

Henry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "... okay. I don't know what to do now."

Sammy blinked. "You don't?"

"Well…" He winced and pulled off his glasses to clean them, mindful of the broken lens. "We're awfully far from the usual pattern." He placed the glasses back to his face, giving a crooked frown. "This is the part where Buddy throws the car- Buddy, no."

Buddy had grabbed the back of a second car and was being dragged down the track at a snail's pace. Norman watched, dumbfounded. He'd released his cable on the wolf for this? What was he even doing?

The musician snorted a laugh, hand clapped over his mouth. "Teenagers."

A head shake. "Yeah… but the new question is what we do to get Allison and Tom here. From how we've been going? They should show up soon, but I don't know when."

Sammy placed a hooked finger to his lips in thought, brow furled in thought. "Maybe… a scream would help?"

A blink. "What."

Behind Henry, Buddy had let go of the car and made his way over, Norman close behind. His light was low but aimed at Sammy.

"Hear me out, here me out!" He waved the hand to his mouth at the man. "Allison shows up after Susie screams and lunges for you, yes?"

"Yes."

"Maybe someone has to scream?" He ended with an uncertain uptick.

"I doubt that'll-"

Once again, the Projectionist took up the job no one wanted and let loose the loudest, shrillest shriek from the depths of his being at the domed ceiling above. The other three in the room had about the same reaction of clutching their ears and cowering.

The musician was the first to speak up. "God… damn! That was a shrill D sharp!" Sammy cried out from his curled and crouched spot by Henry.

Henry blinked hard. "I thought tinnitus was bad!"

Buddy was giving Norman the most insulted look he could, ears drawn back and pie-cut eyes narrowed. Rude!

Norman didn't seem to notice, or care, about the three offended people in his direct vicinity. He was more focused on the ink puddle behind him that was fiercely bubbling to life. He'd felt it more than anything and took it as a sign to step out of the way.

Henry stepped backwards and held an arm in front of Sammy. Buddy grabbed his other arm, brows raised in confusion and fear.

But what emerged was not an ink demon, but a horned woman with a drawn cutlass. She bunched her dark mouth in a frown, brows lowered in a sharp scowl that melted plainly to confusion. "Oh." She blinked at Henry and managed a small smile. "Well, this is different." Her gaze hopped around to Sammy, Buddy, then froze on Norman. The cutlass raised up just as Tom ran in, pipe ready.

"Easy. This is Norman. He's… on our side." Henry raised a placating hand to Allison, brows raised.

She didn't take her eyes off Norman, nor lower her blade. "Henry. The Projectionist isn't safe. He's as bad as the ink demon."

"He can read lips, you know," Sammy groused as he lay a hand to Henry's arm.

The Projectionist hummed at the horned woman and leaned down for a better look, only for Tom to plant himself between them with a growl.

Norman hissed annoyed static at Tom.

Tom thumped his pipe into his mechanical palm at Norman.

Buddy stepped uneasily forward and grabbed a loose cable on Norman's back.

The horned woman's gaze flicked to Buddy and melted into confusion. "Who on earth?"

Henry smiled. "That's Buddy. He's usually… well. Dead."

"Oh." Her wide eyes bounced from each person in the group, gauging them as well-know to new-territory. Her blade lowered. "Okay. Henry." A thin hand raised to him. "You have your seeing tool?"

He'd forgotten he had the damn thing! Reaching back, he pulled it out. "Yup."

The confident tension of her thin frame went slack and her eyes fell to the device Henry held. "Okay. I've been looking around this place, drawing maps and words, but something happened today. Not long ago. I think… I think it's important, but I can't figure it out."

Henry and Sammy shared a look, and Henry stepped forward. "What was it?"

Allison glanced around the room. "Follow me."

"Where to?"

She turned to the way Susie usually burst from and walked on. "The Lost Harbor. We're skipping the part where you get locked up."

Tom frowned at her back and ran to catch up.

She smiled fondly at him, brushing her fingers against his mechanical arm. "It's okay. We can't fit the four of them in the hideout, anyway."

The one-armed clone dipped his head a bit and dropped back. He let the others pass him until he and Norman caught up to be side by side.

Norman stared at him a moment, then turned his projector upwards to light everyone ahead of him.

Tom huffed and thumped his pipe into a mechanical palm. He chose to be between the Projectionist and everyone else. The more bodies between this beast and his Allison, the better.

They traveled on like that, Allison in front, Henry and Sammy side by side, Buddy behind them, followed by Tom with Norman lighting the way from the back.

She hopped over a fallen beam and kept talking. "This time around, something was off about one of the Butcher Gang clones."

"How off?"

"It was… not with the other two." She hung a left to a set of stairs. "I was looking for supplies when I saw one of them, the one with the pipe?"

Henry nodded. "Piper."

"Right." Another turn to the second flight. "It was facing a lost one- wait. Sammy?" She glanced at him over a shoulder. "Lost ones are the ones who can talk, right?"

"Both can speak, but only a handful do. Did they have legs?"

"Yes?"

"Those are lost ones. They remember enough to be… miserable." His mouth twitched. "Continue."

"The lost one was bashing its head into a wall. Over and over without stopping. It didn't even look up at the Piper when it grunted or moved. I don't know what it was trying to do, but I got a look at it with my seeing tool before it wandered off." Her smile was heard. "You're not gonna believe it, but the lost one and the Butcher clone had matching marks! Just one in the same place. The lost one had the outline of the marking, and the clone had the actual object."

The cartoonist blinked. "What was the mark?"

"A paintbrush." She sighed. "But I don't know what that means."

"A puzzle to be sure." But he could admit he impressed him with her findings.

"I have an idea, but it's kind of out there."

Henry huffed a chuckle. "Everything is out there in this place. What do you think?"

"I think the lost ones with the markings? Had part of their souls used to make the clones work. But the Boris clones are made of a whole soul… right?" She asked Sammy, looking his way over a shoulder.

"Right. It… would explain the behavior of the less than stable lost ones. Some weep, some bang their heads… that might narrow down which ones to examine for markings." He smirked at her back. "Good find, Allison."

"But why a paintbrush?"

Allison shrugged. "Beats me. I…" She paused, wide eyes searching the hall ahead of her. "I've been here for so long, there's not much else to do but take notes and draw. The writing, your writing, may not lead to the way out, but it gives clues. Clues lead to answers."

Henry nodded in the dark. "I get that. My sketchbook is halfway full, and it was mostly empty when I got it back. The gold ink is still hard to understand. I don't control what it says at all… but it shows up where I touch."

Allison hummed in a pleased manner. "Glad I'm not alone."

"... yeah." The cartoonist gave Sammy a smile. "No one is."

In the dark of the stairwell, Sammy smiled back.

/

This might be me reading too much into it, but Allison seems pretty smart. She's mapped out the studio, she might have built her seeing tool on her own, she repairs Tom's arm when it gets damaged, and she was halfway to figuring out how to open the doors to Bendy's lair just by thinking out loud. If anyone can work out some of what's happening, it's probably her.