Chapter 2: Keep Your Voice Down!

When Allison was faced with Bendy, she was prepared. He towered over her, tilting his head in a form of mute recognition. He looked so different from the cute dancing demon of before, but it was him, without a doubt. His ears, or horns, she wasn't sure which, held that same signature pointed shape. The toothy grin was still the same. Even his bow-tie looked the same.

She took a deep breath, looked up at him, and smiled. It was forced, a big toothy grin that always felt wrong.

Not a peep, she reminded herself. As if she needed a reminder. Don't say a word.

Bendy paused, let out another rumble, and raised up his gloved hand. He slowly waved it back and forth.

Allison returned the wave, keeping that forced smile on her face. It made her cheeks hurt, but she kept it up, despite the way her lips trembled.

Bendy lowered his hand and walked passed her with a pleased grumble. He heaved himself up the stairs and a few moments later, disappeared through the door into the park outside.

Allison let out the breath she'd been holding in, rubbing her cheeks and wincing. Coming face to face with the devil day in and day out was becoming more of a regularity than she had ever hoped for. No matter how many years it had been, she still remembered meeting Bendy for the first time. Their meetings were more common now, years later, but she would still never forget it.

Years ago, when Allison first met Bendy, she wasn't afraid. Surprised. Confused. Maybe a little hesitant. But not scared. She'd walked in Joey's office to grab some files and paperwork she needed. Back then, she was still working with finances, trying to make sense of the numbers that didn't add up, no matter how hard she tried. She never wanted to work in finances. She just took whatever job she could once jobs were getting harder and harder to find.

No, what Allison really wanted was to be an actress. Maybe that's why she took this job in the first place. A part of her hoped, dreamed even, that maybe she'd get an opportunity, get her first big shot at acting. This was just a starting point. She didn't mind voicing whatever she needed to in order to get her foot in the door, and Joey Drew Studios was certainly popular. When Joey offered her the chance to voice Alice Angel, she leaped at the opportunity.

Maybe a bit too enthusiastically. She hadn't asked about Susie. Why she had to leave, why she was being replaced. She was just excited.

Then Susie walked in on their first day of recording, looking confused. Hurt. Betrayed. Nobody told her that she was being replaced. Allison was mortified, and she did nothing but stand idly by while Sammy did his best to calm Susie, who was practically hysterical. He told her to go talk to Joey, maybe they'd be able to work something out. A bitter, horrible part of Allison hoped they wouldn't. She wanted this chance. She wanted to be Alice Angel.

When Susie went missing, Allison felt like a monster. She lay awake at night, crying into her pillow and trying to convince herself that it wasn't her fault. That maybe Susie found a better job somewhere else. She knew it wasn't true, but those were the thoughts that let her close her eyes at night.

Then, five years ago, Allison met Bendy. Joey wasn't in his office, which wasn't uncommon, so she had planned on getting in and out as quickly as possible. She'd walked in, opened one of the many lopsided filing cabinets and combed through the papers, humming her new Alice song under her breath. It was catchy. Sammy's work, so of course it was. It wouldn't be the first night that one of the songs would stick inside of her head long after she'd arrived home and changed out of her work clothes.

She shut the drawer, finding what she needed, and turned around to see the small, inky devil looking up at her curiously.

She blinked back at him. Waited. Blinked again. Something in her brain short-circuited. Misfired. She couldn't process what she was seeing in front of her, a cardboard cut-out come to life, a 3-D Bendy who was staring up at her. He came up to her waist about, maybe four or four and a half feet. He tilted his head, smile never leaving his face.

"Bendy!" a loud voice barked, and the little devil flinched. "Where are you?!"

Bendy scrambled away, diving underneath Joey's desk. When Joey appeared in front of Allison, she was still blinking in confusion, papers tumbling from her fingertips and onto the floor. They dipped and fell into inky puddles, but she made no move to gather them up again. She just stared at the desk in shock.

Joey grumbled. "Allison. I'm assuming you saw him then."

"Joey," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "What...what is THAT?"

Joey beamed, walking over to the desk and pulling Bendy out from underneath it. The demon frowned, wiggling about as Joey hoisted him up in the air by his foot. "This, my dear, is what's going to save the studio!"

She believed him. She was stunned, surprised, and couldn't possibly fathom how it had happened, but Joey didn't offer an explanation. He just scooped Bendy up and dragged him off. Allison was left standing in the empty room for nearly ten minutes, trying to process how a cartoon could walk about. How it could hide, smile, frown, interact with the world around him. How it could stare at her. She didn't remember leaving the studio, she barely remembered getting home at all. Hours passed by in a fog. She only began to finally come to terms with the reality of what she had seen when she next spoke to Tom.

"Yeah, it came out of that ink machine," Tom said. They sat together on a bench outside of the studio eating lunch, Tom with his sandwich and Allison with her chicken salad. "We weren't supposed to really talk about it much. I thought he was just crazy. I didn't know what Joey was cooking up back there, but he's had me filling in those pipes and setting up systems to hoist that thing around for a while now. I just played along, thought as long as I keep gettin' paid, it doesn't matter. He was doing things late at night. After everyone left. Then, that thing popped out one day." There were bags under his eyes that Allison hadn't noticed before. Deeper wrinkles indicating hours of frowns. His shoulders sagged with a weight she didn't understand.

"You look tired," she said, taking a bite of her food.

"I am tired," he answered softly. "I've been putting in pipes for so long, I've been seeing them in my sleep. So much ink. That constant rumble. It's inside the walls, above our heads, it was driving me crazy. I wanted to quit. Can't explain why, but something about the machine and those pipes just felt...wrong. Unnatural. Not...not right." He looked over at her. "You just saw that thing walking around, and you're asking me about looking tired?"

Allison laughed. "Well, I suppose you looking tired is a bit more understandable than seeing a cartoon walk around."

Tom smiled. Cleared his throat. Again. "Well, it came out of that machine we've been building back there. That's all I know, really. As soon as it happened, Joey shooed us all away. Won't be long now before we start seeing that little devil all the time. Did you know it can walk through walls?"

Allison's eyes widened.

"Yeah, it's made of ink, so it just kinda goes wherever it well pleases. Joey's trying his best to contain the little thing, I don't know, teach it like a parent would a kid, but it doesn't listen. It doesn't really follow the same rules we do. It's just...different. I don't know what it is, but it's not a machine or a person in a costume. It's something else, and I'm not sure it's something good yet. Cute little thing though," Tom admitted. "Right now, the only thing that keeps it entertained for a bit is the cartoons. It likes watching them. Just sits down in a chair, swaying back and forth to the music, eyes glued to the screen. Listen, Miss Allison, be...be careful around it, will ya? I know Joey's got something cooked up with it, something that will get this studio back on its feet, but it just isn't natural. So just promise me you'll be careful, alright?"

She smiled. "I will. I can take care of myself you know."

Tom chuckled. "Oh, I know."

Back then, Allison thought that the little devil was harmless. She actually looked forward to when she came across him, watching cartoons or dancing about. It was still a little unsettling, still some things that didn't feel right, but she was getting used to his blank expression and ever-present grin.

It wasn't long before Joey announced the little demon to the world. Of course, most people just believed it was a trick, something robotic or a puppet on strings. Joey was okay with that. As far as he was concerned, the less people who knew the truth, the less competition he would have. So we were swore to secrecy. Not that anyone would believe the truth anyone. What would they think if Allison stood up in front of journalists, claiming that the cartoons were real, living, beings? She'd become a laughingstock. For now, it was in everyone's best interest if they didn't know the truth about Bendy.

It wasn't just Bendy, though.

When Allison saw Alice, it was amazing. This character that she gave words too, this character that was, in a way, a part of her, was staring at her from behind a layer of glass.

"Can I speak with her?" Allison asked Joey, as the angel danced on stage and giggled behind the glass.

Joey glanced over at Allison. His eyes scanned her up and down, before turning back to the toon on stage.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Allison."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Well, think about it this way," Joey said. "She can sing, right? She's the real deal! The real Alice Angel! Don't you think she'd be pretty confused if she heard your voice? If she heard you speaking and singing instead of her?"

Allison's brows furrowed in confusion. "But, she's seen her cartoons, hasn't she? I voice her in the cartoons, so she must know that's not true."

"Alice is a special case. When we show her cartoons, we turn off the audio so she can sing along herself. Makes her happy, you know? And it's good practice for when she'll be singing on stage in front of visitors and park guests!" Joey put his hand on Allison's shoulder and smiled down at her. "So, for now, it's alright if you see her, give her a wave and a smile, but don't talk to her. I wouldn't talk to Bendy either, okay?"

"But I-"

"Listen, we don't want to confuse them! Right now, they're perfectly happy being in this world. Being cartoons brought to life. If we start getting into the technicality of how they came to be, well, they might not be so perfectly happy anymore. Let's not confuse them, alright?"

Allison swallowed. "Alright, Mister Drew. Whatever you say."

She pretended she understood. All she wanted was to talk to Alice. Just to smile at her, tell her how happy she was to voice her in the cartoons. It was so bizarre. Wanting to meet a cartoon. It was like an imaginary friend coming to life, but not being able to talk to them. For now, Allison was content with watching Alice sing on stage, seeing such a bright smile on her face. Hearing her sing always made her chest feel tight, though.

Susie would have loved to meet Alice. But no. Susie was still missing.

A few nights after that, Allison was recording with Sammy, and she learned for herself what Joey had meant.

"Alright Allison, one, a-two, a one two three four-"

"I'm the cutest little angel, sent from above, and I know just how to swing. I got a bright little halo, and I'm filled with love. I'm Alice Angel! I'm the hit of the party, I'm the belle of the ball, I'm the toast of every town. Just one little dance, and I know you'll fall. I'm Alice Angel!"

Sammy smiled as he listened to Allison sing. Her voice lifting and falling in the perfect rhythm. She swung back and forth, tapping her feet to keep the tempo. She was one of those people who you could tell loved singing just by the look of her face. The way her mouth opened into a smile after every note, the way her eyes closed to feel the music, the way she moved. The song became a part of her. Allison Pendle, possessed by an angel. Sammy nodded to the beat, gently guiding her through the verses.

He didn't notice the inky pool start up behind Allison's door into the recording booth. He was too focused on his notes, too focused on keeping the beat to the cartoon, keeping the band playing.

Allison didn't notice either, even as the ink pooled around her shoes.

"I ain't no flapper, I'm a classy dish, and boy, can this girl sing. This gal can grant your every wish-"

Something dripped on Allison's head. She paused in confusion, torn from finishing the song and reaching up to figure out what it was. Was there a leak in here? There shouldn't be. There was nothing in the recording booth but her, the microphone, and an Alice Angel cutout and poster. She leaned in to the mic, glancing up while doing so, trying to keep the song going while figuring out just what had dropped onto her.

"I'm Alice- AHHHHHH!" Allison screamed, backing away and thumping against the glass.

Sammy looked up, his eyes widening. "Allison! What..." Sammy gasped, a choke noise that rose and died in his throat. He stared, mouth agape at the inky apparition.

Allison whimpered, scrambling backwards as ink splashed down on top of her. It was cold against her skin and made her flinch. Something big, dripping with ink stared down at her. At least, she assumed it did. Its eyes were covered completely by ink, lanky limbs were misshapen, bony. But that lop-sided bow-tie and grin were unmistakable, even if that grin shook and cracked up and down, over and over, only low, unintelligible mumbles and hisses coming out.

It lumbered toward her. Shadows stretched out from behind it, painting the walls in a kaleidoscope of murky waves. It was almost beautiful, but the haunting painter of such strokes kept Allison from appreciating them for long. It leaned down to her, toward her mouth and throat. It chattered again, a hissing, hungry noise that she couldn't decipher. It looked from her, to the poster of Alice Angel on the wall, then back to her again. It reached out with its single gloved hang toward her, and Allison was frozen solid. Petrified.

"BENDY!" Joey burst into the studio, throwing open the door. "STOP!"

It hissed at Joey, rearing back like an animal. A moment later, it pressed into the wall, into the poster of Alice Angel, and a few moments later, was gone. The shadows on the walls disappeared, leaving nothing but a few inky footprints. Joey walked over to Allison, looking down at her with a blank expression. "I did warn you," he growled.

They say that everyone handles traumatic experiences differently. Some people cry, some people act without emotion, some people even laugh hysterically.

Allison, apparently, got pissed.

She stood up from the ground and marched over to Joey. "Now listen here," she shouted. Joey's eyes widened and he took a step back as Allison approached, leaning in and sticking a finger in his face. "I don't know what the hell you've done by making that thing Joey, I don't know, and I don't want to know, but you will NOT blame me for doing my damn job. You made that thing, it is YOUR responsibility, do you hear me?! If something happened to me, if that thing hurts anyone, that's on YOU. Do you understand me? That thing is your responsibility, and if it ever hurts me, my blood will be on your hands. If you don't like that, then you might as well fire me right now!" she barked. Her chest heaved up and down with every breath. She was seething, her face was flushed, and by the time Sammy finally picked himself off of the ground and came into the room, she looked like she might explode.

Joey was silent. He regained his composure, straightening his bow tie. He looked at Allison calmly and raised an eyebrow. "Remember who you're talking to, Miss Pendle. But I suppose you're right. He did come into the recording studio. I'll make sure he stays away from here from now on. That way, you can keep working. But I hope now you take my warning seriously, and learned a valuable lesson."

He turned to leave, and Allison scowled. "All I've learned is that you're a selfish fraud, who's meddling in something you can't possibly understand."

Joey paused, but then walked out of the recording studio without another word. Once he was gone, Allison sunk to the ground, her legs too wobbly to keep her up a moment longer. She looked down at her dress. It was new. She'd bought it and wore it today because she and Tom planned on getting dinner tonight. He had to stay late to work on a project for Joey and couldn't, so she decided to stay late and work with Sammy. Passed nightfall. Now, it was covered in ink. She'd never get it out.

She didn't cry. She was surprised she didn't, and even after the anger faded and she started to realize how close she really may have been to death, she just felt drained and tired.

Sammy crouched down. "Allison. Are you alright? Do you need a hand?"

"I think...I think I just need a moment. To catch my breath," she said. "Are you okay, Sammy?" He didn't respond. Allison looked up. "Sammy? Her eyes widened.

Sammy was grinning, a smile stretched ear to ear. His eyes were wide, open and staring down at the ink on the floor. His breaths came out in shaky rasps, shivering with every exhale. His hair hung down in front of his face, casting dark shadows. His gaze slowly rose to her, his smile shaking as he giggled deep from within his chest.

"How amazing," he whispered. "Incredible."

It was well passed 9:30PM by the time Allison got home. She kicked off her heels and flopped face-first onto her bed with a groan. On top of working with Sammy late into the night and meeting Bendy again, the encounter had brought up memories of their frightful encounter in the studio from years ago that Allison would rather have left behind. She groaned into her pillow, trying to find the motivation to get up, take a shower, eat something for sure since she was starving.

Shower first, Allison finally decided, and changed out of her clothes. She felt better after that. There was something therapeutic about washing away the day under hot water. Despite her frightful encounter, she was in better spirits, and hummed about her tiny apartment room to fix herself something to eat. Leftovers would have to do. Maybe she'd order a pizza tomorrow. Tomorrow was Friday, the sacred day before the weekend, and Allison, blessedly, was going to be able to take the day easy. She'd finished her recordings with Sammy today, so she wouldn't need to go to the studio right away. Joey would still want her on the premises if he was going to pay her, just in case Sammy needed to record something over again, but Allison was happy that she wouldn't have to leap head-first back into work the second she got back. Maybe she'd ride some of Bertrum's rides tomorrow. Grab some cotton candy. Maybe even grab a bite to share with Tom as well, if she could track him down in those dark tunnels. Either way, the life had returned to Allison, as it always did. No matter how taxing her work was, she was proud of the fact that she could return to work each day with a smile. It was something she prided herself on, actually. Keeping her head up, keeping herself going no matter what the circumstances were. Her mother called it sheer stubbornness, a refusal to give in or sit quietly, but Allison liked to think of it as determination.

In her eyes, she only had one life, and she wasn't going to live it idly. She preferred to do things. See the world. Once, she had dreams of travelling overseas to Spain, Italy, maybe even France, somewhere she could walk around and not know what the people were saying. That sounded nice. Trying new foods. Seeing amazing things not just on a television screen, in an amusement park, or in a cramped studio. She just had to keep working, keep hoping Joey would be true to his word and pay them more than just table scraps.

Allison picked at her dinner at the dining room table, glancing down at a letter she'd left there, unopened, for a week now. Addressed from Archgate Films. The white envelope stared up at her almost tauntingly. All she'd need to do was open it. But, instead, Allison had left it there on the table, and this wasn't the first time she'd mused over what could be inside while eating dinner or sipping coffee.

A purr brought her attention downward, where an orange tabby rubbed up against her legs. She smiled and scratched underneath his chin.

"Well hi there, Cheese. How was your day?" she asked. The cat meowed in response, and Allison chuckled as she stood to fill his food bowl. She gave him another pat, and headed to bed, giving the envelope on the table one last glance over her shoulder.

'I'll open it tomorrow,' she told herself. 'Tomorrow for sure.' Allowing herself to believe her own lie, Allison flopped onto her bed and was asleep in minutes.

After dark, the park really was something. When the lights turned out, and the rides slowed their electric hums and rumbles, there was a certain serenity that couldn't be found anywhere else. It was like a mall right before closing, or a baseball stadium with no game planned. There was something special about a place that was meant for noise, for music, for loud cheers and laughter when it was hushed in silence. It made other noises feel more real. When leaves picked up and tossed about by the wind scraped on the sidewalk, when metal hinges squeaked ever so slightly after a big gust, when feet pressed against the cobblestone, when breath left lungs, these things sounded so much sweeter.

There was also the urge to fill the silence, with something, anything. A tap of a finger against a thigh, a snap now and then. Her preferred sound was humming, of course. It was too delicate a night to sing; it would feel wrong to break the silence with words or pure notes. Hums would do, low, deep within her, that she felt more than heard. Yes. That was perfect.

She used to hate the night. She hated when the people left. It was like they took something with them, something she couldn't form the words for, couldn't grasp in her hands or her mind. She felt empty, hollow, broken in an odd sort of way. She'd wander the park, loathing the overwhelming calm, seeking out anyone, any person who could hear her songs, anyone to please, please just look at her. But there was no one there usually. She found a few workers from the studio, yes, but Joey, mean old Joey, forbid her from interacting with them after dark. She needed to, she pleaded with him. She had to be loved, to be watched, to be adored, to be appreciated. If she didn't she felt herself falling apart. He ignored her.

She felt the ink run through her fingertips, cover her eyes, drip out of her mouth. She felt parts of her fall apart in her hands, leaving black fingerprints and smudges wherever she went. Her throat felt tight, her heart felt like it wasn't even beating at all, and the only thing that made it go away, that made her feel whole again, was when people watched her, when they listened to her songs, when they smiled, when they waved, when they cheered. It was her purpose. So of course it was no surprise that she wasn't herself when no one was left in the park.

Most of those feelings had long since faded by now. She had grown used to it, in an odd sort of way. After all, Alice had found a solution to her longing for attention.

"Booooris," she called out with a giggle, exiting the haunted house. He wasn't hiding there, which was probably smart. That's where she kept all of her tools. Being beautiful took work. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to catch her fingers on the skin that had fallen away by her mouth. It would be all better by morning anyway. "Come walk with your angel~"