"HE WILL SET US FREE" . I looked at the masterpiece of five words on the wall. What is happening to me? I thought, staring at the ground. Drops of fresh, black ink fell off of the "inky, dark, abyss I call a body". At the thought of that quote, I growled, remembering Joey Drew. Yeah, my boss was a straight up JERK. First, he installed an ink machine over all of the music artists' heads. Then, he put an ink pump right smack into the middle of my office. People were in and out every 10 seconds. Sigh. Luckily I received a sanctuary, a place where I could work in peace and quiet. Everything is different now. I recorded myself saying those words on a tape recorder and quietly walked into the entrance of the music department. I placed it on a shelf, sighing. After, I strolled over to my favorite place in utility shaft 9; my sanctuary. Why not pay it a visit? I walked in and turned off the ink pump, because who needed it on? I flicked the switch of the music player.
Small time skip brought to you by Sammy in a tweed jacket!
Build up our machine you die tonight! Dadadadadadadadada, tonight! Build up our machine you die tonight! I am aware-
I flicked it off. I'd had enough. Until..
Tmp, tmp, tmp..
Footsteps. "What the?" I thought aloud.
TMP, TMP, TMP, TMP, CRASH!
I screamed. "WHO'S THERE?!" I yelled, grabbing the pocket knife on my desk.
"There's only one thing to do.. Press on. See if I can find a way out."
That voice was so familiar.. Was it my coworker? If so, what was he here for? It had been 30 years since anyone was ever here. It was freaking 1950. Who would ever want to return to this creepy, run-down place? I walked out of my sanctuary and grabbed two of the cardboard Bendy cutouts scattered across the building. I then paced across the exit of the ink flooded-hallway, the two cutouts in my arms.
"Hello? C-can you help me? Hello?!"
I turned to face the now known human.
"Henry?"