Chapter 5: Shh! Don't Raise Your Voice!

Allison glared over at the Boris sitting next to her. This was crazy. She shouldn't be trusting one of them, especially considering she had just heard that the Boris was killed. To have another pop up out of nowhere made her more than a little nervous. She thought about trying to run or try to fight him, but she wouldn't have gotten very far on either parts with her hands bound behind her back the way they were. He'd put both of his hands up in the air, what would normally look like an act of surrender, but one of those hands had a knife. He must have seen the panic flash in front of her eyes, because he slowly put the knife down in front of her and backed away.

It felt like a trap. He hadn't gone far and was just...watching her. It was unsettling, but she figured even if it was a trap, at least she could get out of the ropes. She'd moved slow, picking up the knife and carefully balancing it to cut away the ropes. He'd stepped forward a bit when he saw her struggling, maybe to help, but she'd yelled at him to back off, and he stayed away. Finally, she was free of those ropes. She sighed and rubbed her wrists, wincing at the bright red marks. She looked over at the Boris, whose ears perked up once she was free.

"...if you're wanting this knife back, it's not going to happen," she said, picking it up and sticking it in her pocket.

He shook his head, and she waited for him to say more, but then winced.

"Oh. That's right, Boris doesn't talk."

He shook his head. He didn't look like the others did at night. She thought that Bendy was the only one with a terrifying appearance after dark, but seeing Alice proved otherwise. The thought still made her heart ache. Her precious Alice, twisted into that monster...

Allison ran a hand through her hair, not really sure what to do next. She knew she had to act fast though, it was only a matter of time before that mad Follower found her, or that crazy Alice. Or worse. She knew Bendy wandered this park at night too, and as terrifying as they other two were, Bendy scared her more than anything else. No, she needed to find Tom and get out of here. Maybe find a place to hide for a little bit, maybe make the Follower and Alice think she'd run off for good. She wasn't sure.

Boris took a step forward, opening his mouth. She immediately took a step back. When no sound came out, he reached up and touched his throat, then lowered his head.

"Stay away from me," Allison said hesitantly. "Just because you helped me get free doesn't mean I trust you, Boris."

He winced. She almost felt bad, but it was true. If those other two had terrifying night forms, she couldn't doubt that this Boris had one too. She couldn't trust him. She couldn't trust any of them, not with how twisted this whole park and situation was. She once again found herself mentally cursing Joey and this awful place. How was he doing this? Sure, he'd built up a park, but at what cost? Was there ever a point where Joey had asked himself if he'd gone too far?

She heard a shriek from nearby, far too close to comfort, and cursed. With her back turned, Boris had grabbed her arm and was pulling her along. She immediately turned, reaching for her knife, and he paused, letting her go again and raising his hands. He pointed back toward the studio.

"You...want me to go with you?" Allison asked.

He nodded.

"...you can get me into the studio?"

Boris paused this time, then nodded.

"Well...alright then. Take me to the studio. I'll follow you," she said.

He turned and headed into the trees toward a maintenance tunnel Allison didn't have a key for, but Boris slipped inside easily. She followed him into the dark path, closing the door behind her and wondering once again just what she had gotten herself into this time.

Having her here was torture. Just what was she doing here anyway?! Hadn't he told her to leave Joey Drew Studios, to never come back?

Maybe Joey had done something to her, dragged her here after hours.

Yeah. He wished that was the case, but he had a feeling that his message to Allison hadn't caused its intended reaction. If she were here, looking like she were ready to raise hell, it was because she thought she could save him.

It was too late for that now.

It was all ink, all darkness, all cold and terrible smelling and black and it made him dizzy, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up knowing that he was Boris. It seeped into his bones, his being, voices tugging and pulling at his mind, all his and never his at the same time. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to remember who he really was. Maybe Joey had intended for him to be Boris and nothing else, but that wasn't what happened.

Or maybe Joey knew he wouldn't be able to speak either way, and just didn't care, because he was just a Boris, just a dime a dozen.

But he also knew he was Tom. Not that he could tell that to Allison of course. He couldn't speak. Couldn't even make a sound. He didn't even have vocal cords anymore. He had other organs, but Boris didn't have a voice in the show. Just like Bendy, they were silent, never speaking a word. Because of it, the inky form that he now wielded reflected the cartoon reality. He couldn't speak. Couldn't really do anything.

Well, he knew how to play the banjo now, which was a little unsettling. He just, like...knew, now.

Honestly, he hadn't had much time to process what had happened. Get used to this new body and the odd thoughts that were swirling around in his mind, some of them his and some of them Boris's and some of them both of theirs. It was hard to form a difference, and he was already worried he'd lose himself to it. He'd gotten some cryptic message from Joey about avoiding Alice, and he'd been furious at Joey but he, he found that he couldn't even form a coherent thought of doing anything to him. It was like a wall was built up preventing him from even wanting to get revenge or think badly of Joey. It made him mad, mad at himself, that he couldn't take his anger out on Joey, all he could do was try to absorb all of the new orders and tasks he was rambling off. They were sinking in, he knew they were, he knew he was being molded into some new identity like clay, but he also wasn't really paying much attention either.

And then he'd left the studio, after Joey left too of course, just kind of...wandering. Just kind of trying to figure out how to move these feet and work with these new limbs and try to process what had happened. Maybe he was in shock? He certainly wasn't a doctor or anything like that. Hell, Tom hated going to the doctor, but he thought this might be shock, this odd, numb feeling he had all over him.

Tom. He kept saying that name to himself. Tom, Tom, Tom.

He was scared he might forget it. He was scared it might slip away and he'd be nothing but Boris, but not just Boris, just...a Boris. How long until he'd be replaced? How long until his identity slipped away from him, wind between his fingertips, out of grasp and flying away. Would he grow to forget everything? Forget who he was, his name, his life? Allison? He hoped he wouldn't forget her. Even if it was painful to remember her at times, even when her face brought him fresh waves of sadness and longing, he never wanted to forget her face. Even if he forgot his own name. Forgetting her, forgetting why he had punished himself with this hell, would be too cruel.

Ink and imagination clouded his mind. To be someone else's creation was an odd sort of thing. Thoughts came and went, but they were always questioned, something deep within the surface checking to make sure it was in character, it was what was meant to be. A character forgetting they were an actor. Unsettling.

And then he saw Allison. His feet had seemed to carry him to her, even without knowing she was there. But she was, sitting on a bench, looking like she was trying not to cry. Her hands were bound behind her back, maybe Joey did it? And she looked scared. Angry too, but that's part of how Allison showed that she was scared. She got angry.

Whether or not he was in shock before didn't matter now. He was frozen, staring at her with so many feelings bubbling up that he couldn't begin to pick them apart and evaluate them one by one, so he chose hope and clung to it.

So many things he wished he could say to her. So many words lingering on his tongue that had no air to produce any noise.

How could he have been so stupid before, when he had a voice, when he had the chance to tell her how amazing he thought she was, how she was the type of woman he could only dream to stand beside, how she was so much more than the "pretty dish" that Joey called her. But he couldn't. He couldn't even say her name, something once so precious to him, his favorite sound aside from her laugh, he couldn't even whisper that to himself when he was scared and alone. No. He was forced into silence. He was forced to sit with all of these feelings and words he'd never been able to muster before.

He'd approached her. He wasn't sure why. Did he want to try to tell her the truth? Who he really was? Seeing her hate-filled glances as they walked along was ripping him apart, but this was easier. Not for him, but maybe for her. To not know the truth about who he was. So he'd play along. He'd play Boris. Just another friendly Boris, leading along his angel, Orpheus leading Eurydice out of Hades and trying so hard not to look back, not to just glance at her face, slip up and find a way to tell her the truth, just to have something between them again for only an instance.

No. He wouldn't doom her here, with him. He'd get her out somehow. For now, he wanted to focus on just keeping her alive until dawn. He hadn't run into Alice yet, hadn't quite understood why Joey warned him against her, but even thinking of Bendy made him tremble.

He just hoped they could avoid the inky devil a little while longer. Just a few more hours until sunrise.

After a few moments, Allison and Boris managed to get back inside the studio. It looked the same as it did during the day, surprising Allison a bit. She expected the whole place to change at night, much like the outside park did. She expected flickering lights, creepy noises, ink puddles all over the flood, but the studio was surprisingly just as well kept as it was during the day. Framed pictures of promotional posters and advertisements lined the halls next to autographs and slogans. Joey loved his slogans and propaganda. "Keep working!" "Keep smiling!" Joey was determined to hide behind his self-created lies, blinding himself to the frowns and exhaustion lingering behind forced smiles and weary eyes.

He told himself that he was a good businessman, but they all knew it wasn't true. Even Joey did, and Allison wondered if that wasn't the reason he hung up so many posters in the first place, a final piece of overcompensation.

Allison put her hands on her hips and turned to Boris, who flinched and looked away from her sharp gaze. "You can leave now," she said. "You got me to where I needed to go. I'd rather you didn't stick around."

His ears lowered and he hung his head. Ugh... Why did he have to look so disarmingly sad? Boris was meant to be one of the comic relief characters, but here, he just looked like a sad puppy dog she'd tossed back out on the street.

But the one thing this studio had taught her above all else was that looks could be deceiving.

Allison sighed. "Thank you for your help. But I really just need to find my friend and get out of here."

She started walking down a random hall, no real direction in mind. She just needed to be making some sort of progress and get away from the Boris. Heading to Joey's office was her first step. She looked back over her shoulder, watched as Boris lingered in the doorway. She saw his frame hesitate, constantly debating whether or not he should follow her or not. He took one step, but her harsh gaze made him take two steps back. So he didn't follow her. He just watched her disappear around the corner before grabbing his head in his hands and trying again to find a way to make words with a voice that didn't exist.

Allison, however, kept walking, occasionally reaching back for the knife she'd tucked into her pocket. It made her feel safer, even if only a little bit. If she was cornered by the follower, Alice, or even Bendy, she'd at least have some small way of defending herself, though she wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of having to fight one of them. Hearing Tom's earlier description of these creatures having organs was...unsettling.

Tom. Where were you? What had happened to you? she thought to herself, all while urging her feet to move onward, one after the other. She was getting exhausted, but she wasn't about to give up, not without finding Tom or at least figuring out some clues as to where he had gone or what happened to him. She refused to let him just disappear. As soon as she found him, they'd both get out of here.

She reached Joey's office quicker than she expected, but the distance always seemed smaller when her mind was elsewhere. She peeked inside and sure enough, the lights were off and Joey was gone. She slipped in through the doors, looking back over her shoulder to make sure the Boris, or any other cartoons, hadn't followed her. Satisfied that she was alone, at least temporarily, she flicked the lights on and started sifting through documents on his desk. It was more than a little disorganized, and Allison knew his poor secretary must have a fit every morning she comes in and sees the mess. Bills pushed off to the side, ideas for new rides scratched down on memos or in the corners of legal documents, law suits filed away without a care in the world, advertising and marketing plans, it was all the regular sort of business mumbo-jumbo she'd left behind in the financing department.

It didn't surprise her than the more important documents would be sealed away elsewhere, somewhere away from prying eyes, but even after Allison poured over filing cabinets, nearly dumping their contents on the ground to sift through them, she couldn't find anything. And she was getting frustrated.

There was one other drawer on Joey's large desk that she hadn't managed to open. It was locked, but loose. With a bit of prying, she could probably force it open, but then Joey would know for sure someone had been rummaging around with his stuff. It probably wouldn't take him too long to at least narrow down a few possibilities of who might do such a thing, herself included.

Allison was willing to take that risk because, hopefully, she wouldn't be around to face Joey's wrath after today. She'd find Tom, and get out. Allison shoved the knife she'd taken from the Boris into the lining of the drawer and heaved, popping the lock off with one solid, cheap thunk. She smirked to herself, just another example of why Joey shouldn't buy cheap just to save a few bucks. She opened the drawer and immediately began sifting through the much more carefully organized contents.

Names. Numbers? These were reports of some kind. Termination reports? Maybe, but something was off, something about the wording struck her as strange. They were labeled as terminations, yet they were filed as if they were transfers to other departments. Department of cartoon management? She'd never heard of that department before, as far as she knew, "cartoon management" was all taken care of by the security Joey hired to keep the place running, and even then, the cartoons were hardly managed at all. Both during the day and night, they all seemed to be left to their own devices. Allison hungrily scanned the documents, flipping through them, searching for anything that could be useful. Was this what Tom was talking about? A hidden department?

Butcher Gang members, file after file of Boris's. Apparently they needed a lot of transfers and terminations. Some of these names she thought she recognized, but wasn't sure, they were either too familiar and she doubted herself, or not familiar enough. Transferred from the maintenance crew, transferred from security, transferred from concessions.

Allison sighed and sat back in Joey's desk chair, running a hand through her hair. This didn't seem to have anything to do with Tom. Why was it locked away anyway? She put the folder away, tired of trying to find meaning in the madness, and pulled out the last folder that sat underneath the rest. She flipped it open, and paused.

The lost ones?

Her eyes widened.

Were these...park guests who had gone missing?

There had to be at least twenty files...how the hell was Joey covering this up?

Names and faces, anything from children to adults, all filed with news clippings of missing people or kidnapping alerts. She remembered the first file, it had been quite an uproar actually, a little boy that had wandered away from his parents and then was lost. They couldn't find him anywhere, couldn't find anything, and they'd searched everywhere. Even Allison had joined the search, but she didn't remember uncovering even the smallest bit of evidence as to what could have happened. The park was closed early and the police were called to search the premises, all while the cartoons just stood smiling in the corners, trying to perform for officers who had other things to do.

Allison swallowed the lump in her throat, and shakily returned the files to their folder and put them back in the desk. She placed her hands on the wood, trying to steady herself as the room started to spin.

She wasn't sure what she expected, but this was far more terrifying than she ever could have imagined. Joey Drew wasn't just running a twisted empire, he was covering up missing children cases. But Allison had only heard a few of the names. That meant that the news had only gotten a hold of a few of them. After all, if people kept going missing in a park over and over again, there would be an uproar. But Joey had somehow managed to sweep everything under the rug. How? And more importantly, what had happened to them?

Could there be a serial killer in the midst of the park? Was it Joey himself, or...

She shuddered as she felt a shadow pass over her. She recognized the hissing noise before she felt the ink drink on top of her head and trail down her back. She bit her lip to keep from whimpering, and slowly turned around.

She didn't think smiles were going to cut it this time.

Henry yawned and sat up from his bed, rubbing his eyes. Another restless night. Another night lying awake, plagued by odd dreams and nightmares that he could never remember or pinpoint when he regained consciousness. They always slipped away right at the end, no matter how much he felt like there was something important lying beyond the surface, something he needed to remember when he returned to reality. But it was gone.

He glanced over at Linda, who was still sound asleep next to him, and softly smiled. She could sleep through anything, a trait he was grateful for. He'd feel guilty if she woke up every time he'd stumbled out of bed in the wee hours of the morning. He leaned over to kiss the top of her head and then stood, stretching a bit before heading out to make himself a cup of coffee. He was up, so he might as well stay awake. He made his cup of joe then headed out onto the porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the still dark sky. It was early to be sure, so early that the birds had yet to rise from their nests and greet the world. The sky was still shades of dark hues, littered with stars still too stubborn to disappear under the morning light.

He took a long drink, mulling over his thoughts and the things he could remember from his nightmares. He was always pretty sure it had something to do with Bendyland.

Maybe it was his lingering regrets with Joey that manifested in his dreams, maybe it was wishing he should have stayed, stuck it out to see the park make it big. Or maybe he just felt guilty abandoning his once old friend.

Henry didn't regret his decision to leave the studio, even after it got popular. Joey was a good man, at least Henry thought he was, but that studio had changed him. He got desperate, consumed with the need to be something greater than what he once was, a poor kid selling newspapers on the streetsides. That's how they had met, after all. Henry was just a kid as well, painting shop logos and signs on windows with fresh, foul smelling paint, and Joey, rambling on and on to any passerby who would listen about the great stories the news had to tell today. They were just two kids, dreaming of better lives, of making something of themselves.

For Henry, that something was Linda, and he could adamantly say he was proud of how far he had come and what his life had turned into. Sure, he may have had to stop animating, but living his life with the woman he loved? Nothing could replace that.

Henry hoped that with Bendyland, Joey had found what he had been searching for too, whatever his dream was. Years ago, Joey told Henry that his dream was to make it big, be a household name that could bring smiles to millions of faces. With Bendyland, he seemed to have accomplished that, but Henry wasn't so sure. Joey had lost sight of his dream a while ago, it became less about the smiles, and all about the money, about proving himself to some invisible force. Proving that he had what it took, that he could be so much more than what he was. It was hard for Henry to watch, and after a while, he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take seeing his old friend bent over a desk, wiping the sleep from his eyes, trying to find the money to fund his ideas and dreams, but it never happened.

Henry couldn't take it anymore and left. Did he feel guilty? Sure. He'd never forget Joey's face when he handed in his resignation. The way his face fell immediately, and the quiet, silent acceptance as he took the form. He didn't even say goodbye, and Henry hadn't been able to face Joey since, even after the park got big.

Maybe that should change, Henry thought to himself. Maybe he should visit that park after all. Go see how Joey was doing. See if that life had returned to his eyes, see if he was finally happy with who he was again.

"Nightmares again?"

Henry smiled as Linda wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face into his back. "Yeah. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I woke up on my own and saw that you were gone again, so I decided to get up too," she said. "Whatcha thinking about out here, all by yourself?"

Henry paused, considering telling her, considering asking if they could both take a trip to the park, take a day trip out with a packed lunch to see just how bit the park had become. But something stopped him. They lived a modest life, the two of them. Would Linda think less of him, knowing that Henry gave up a job that could have led to something so big and grand as Bendyland?

No. That wasn't fair to think that of her. She was better than that. He was just trying to come up with excuses so he wouldn't have to face his fears.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am," he said, turning to wrap her up in his arms, feel the warm of her embrace against the cool morning air. She smiled and led him inside, and Henry gave one last glance outside, one last frown toward the night air, before closing the door to the darkness and his thoughts of Bendyland.

Sorry for the delay, I hit some writer's block with this chapter. The next one might be a bit out as well, I really want to nail down a timeline of events for this story before continuing too far. Don't worry though, once I get a rough event list created, chapters will be created much, MUCH more frequently. Thanks for following the story, and thanks for all of the positive reviews so far! I'm glad I've been able to capture that same, wonderful, unique style that the original Bendy and the Ink Machine game has (who else is SUPER excited for more Bendy and the Dark Revival news?!)

Thanks for reading!