Welcome to Bendyland! Chapter 9: Work Hard, Work Happy!

Norman took a seat at Allison's table, raising an eyebrow at the scattered remains of blueprints and walkway maps. She'd been busy, that much he could see. Pencils and pens were laying on the table or had rolled to the floor, dishes had been piled a bit haphazardly in the sink, but these were all new messes. The apartment itself was relatively clean. Whatever Allison had been planning had been recent, but that didn't mean she wasn't able to completely demolish her room and make a mess of things. It looked like a whirlwind had whipped around the room, and through the open door in the back, he could see a bedroom that hadn't been slept in for days.

She took a seat across from him, bringing his attention away from his surroundings and back to her tired face. "So," she said, and then looked at him. He waited for more, but an awkward silence just stretched out between them instead.

"S-So?"

"So, why come here? How do I know I can trust you? Just start talking," Allison said.

Norman swallowed. Geez, she was scary.

"Henry said you talked to him bout stuff in the park, that you were worried bad things were happenin'. I knew that if you were going to him, you had to know somethin'. Now, I don't know what all you know, but I figure you have to at least have some clue about the ink machine and people goin' missing," he rambled. "A-and judging by the knife you held to me when I first came to your door, I'm guessing you know about what happens after dark too."

"You've seen them? After dark?" she asked.

He grinned shakily, hoping it didn't look too much like a grimace. "W-what can I say? It's in the nature of us projectionists to seek out the dark places. We all know about Bendy. But Alice? That was a surprise I wasn't expecting. Scared me half to death the first time I saw her, I spent the night huddled down in those tunnels thinkin' I was gonna die for sure."

"Why don't the Boris's ever change?" she asked.

"Huh?"

Allison shook her head slightly. "Sorry, just...thinking out loud. I know that there are more than one Boris's, but they never seem to change at night, and I was wondering why."

"I don't know nothing about the technicality, or how it all works, miss. I just know it does. Maybe it's 'cause the Boris's are always dying? They don't stick around in that park long enough to get corrupted," he said.

"So Alice, and Bendy, they've never had to be replaced that you know of?" she pried.

Norman shook his head. "Not that I know of. Before you start askin' too many questions, Miss Allison, I should clarify that I really don't know too much. Maybe just a bit more than you, but that's because I've been here a long, long time. And on top 'a that, Joey hardly ever seems to notice I'm there." He scratched his head. "First it kinda...well, it kinda stung a bit. He treats me like he would the projection itself. Just kinda...there. There to order around and do what he pleases. But I'm the only one who knows how to use the old projectors, the original ones. I custom built them myself, to run a certain way that's signature to our style. The Joey Drew style. We did that in the beginning to make sure that if anyone managed to steal one of the reels, it couldn't be played on anything but our machines. But now, nobody else knows how to do it, and Joey won't hire anyone for me to teach. So I think that's why Joey keeps me around."

Allison ran a hand through her hair. "And because you've been so close to Joey, you've seen how dark this park really is. And now, you think I'm on some mission to tear it all down to the ground, like some rebellion, and you want to help?"

Norman shifted in his seat. "Well...yeah. I mean...kinda. I don't wanna work here anymore miss. But I'm scared half to death just thinking about what Joey would do to me if he knew I was aiming to leave. If he can make such awful creatures...I mean, shucks, what if he turns me into one of those things? Some sort of machine or projectionist, where all I do is play footage, over and over? I know that sounds paranoid, but, well, after the things I've seen, I think I've a right to feel a little paranoid. Why are you doin' this?"

Allison was quiet. Norman felt her eyes looking him over, lingering and thinking. Wondering if she could trust him, probably. He didn't doubt her for being suspicious. This all sounded awfully crazy to him too, but he hoped that she'd believe him. If she went to Joey, told him everything that he knew, what he was willing to do, then he'd be dead for sure.

She stood up, startling him a bit, but she just walked over to an audio tape on the counter and pushed play. It was a voice he didn't really recognize. But he recognized that tone. The way the voice rose and fell and shook. Fear.

"That was my friend, Tom," Allison explained, once the tape was finished. "He figured out something bad was happening. Something I still don't know. But it was enough to get him in trouble, and now he's missing. He's gone. I haven't heard a word of him, but of course, Joey says he just quit. I need to find my friend. If there's nothing to find, then I guess I just want to burn this whole park down. So that nobody else ends up like him."

"Lord Almighty..." Norman whispered, putting his head in his hands. "How...how are we gonna do that? Destroy the park, I mean? Or find your friend?"

Allison rolled out the blueprints again. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, something he hadn't seen in her yet. A fire. A resolve. It was a little scary.

"I have a plan."

"For the first part of our plan, we're going to need my audio tapes."

Allison slipped into the park the next day, a Sunday, hoping most people wouldn't be around. While park workers were especially busy on the weekends, studio workers like herself had the time off for the most part, unless Joey demanded overtime. Today, however, he didn't, and Allison hoped that she could take this opportunity to sneak in and out of the recording studio without being noticed.

She headed toward the studio, it was late afternoon now, the park would be closing in a few hours, but it gave her enough time to get in and out. She thought she saw Alice or Bendy out of the corner of her eye once, singing or entertaining guests, but she wasn't sure and moved on, nearly running into the Boris from earlier. He looked at her and cocked his head, several park guests laughing at Allison's startled, and a bit fearful, expression at coming so close to him.

"Sorry," she muttered under her breath, hurrying along as the Boris stared after her before continuing to entertain the crowd.

He barely even seemed to recognize her from that other night. Was it a different Boris by now? In the nights since then, had another Boris died and been replaced?

She shook her head. It didn't matter anyway, so there was no point in letting her thoughts wander. She just needed to get in and out of the studio without drawing too much attention to herself. Thankfully, it wasn't out of the ordinary for her to be there on the weekends, working on some deadline. If regular workers saw her, they wouldn't even bat an eye. However, Allison didn't see any other workers. The studio workers had already left for the day.

Once inside the studio, Allison wasted no time briskly walking through the halls. She'd decided to ditch the heels today, opting for flats that made far less noise when she was hurrying along. She still heard the soft thud of her feet on the ground. Everything else though was silent. There no muffled conversations or the click of keys on typewriters from around the halls. No creaking wood or fluttering of papers. Not even the band was playing anymore, everyone had gone home, and the muffled vibrations through the soundproof room were nowhere to be heard.

The door to the music room opened with a creak, and Allison flicked on the lights hanging from overhead. They were already turned off, but still warm after a hard day's work, buzzing slightly as she moved toward Sammy's office in the back. His "sanctuary," he always called it.

Just in and out Allison, she told herself. Just in to grab your tapes, then out. That's all she needed.

Standing outside of Sammy's office, she realized it had been quite a while since she'd been inside. She'd been in before, even back when Sammy's office was nothing but a walled off room frequently flooded with ink, back when Sammy himself would retreat to the room to scowl and lament about Joey Drew and the immense pressure placed upon him. Other than maybe a handful of times in the beginning, she never went in. Sammy didn't want anyone in. It was his private room, a place just for him. Sure, he had a "meeting office," where he met with new potential singers, voice actors, or band members, but it was for formalities only. His office, his sanctuary, she honestly couldn't remember if she'd ever seen in its entirety. But she knew that's where she had to look.

She tried to push the door open. The knob turned, it wasn't locked, but she only managed to push it open an inch before it met with resistance. She huffed and pushed again, feeling something sliding out against the door with a groan. One final push, and the door swung open with a tumble of boxes, scattering sheet music and old records.

Great. So much for getting in and out undetected. Sammy would know someone had been in his office for sure now. How the heck had he managed to get in with all of this stuff? Boxes and filing cabinets thrown against one another, a desk piled high with music, and a chair that was covered in fiddles and drums. It looked like he hadn't even been in this office in weeks. This wasn't quite how Allison remembered it being, but she can't say she'd paid much attention. She carefully stepped around the boxes, bending down to dig through files, finding nothing. Just more sheet music, the occasional string from a forgotten cello, a recording tape or two hidden under the debris.

Part of the room rounded a corner that she couldn't see, but she headed that way, hoping the small enclave would lead to the tapes. She wasn't sure where else they would be, maybe in the observation room up top, but she could always check that on the way out if she needed to. She made her way around the corner, and felt her heart leap to her chest.

It was something out of a horror movie. There were inky symbols drawn on the floor, candles lit and flickering against the walls as books and drawings lined the wooden floorboards. A large circular drawing was on the floor, a sloppy summoning symbol of some kind, and on the back wall, back behind a singular chair, was large words drawn in ink.

SING A HAPPY SONG
WHISTLE A MERRY TUNE
MY LORD HAS NOW ARRIVED
I'LL BE WITH HIM VERY SOON

If it wasn't evident before, it was glaringly obvious now that Sammy had absolutely lost his mind. She'd never seen someone write on the walls like this, using ink in such a blatant, scrawling way. It was crude and primal, more akin to a cave drawing that art. It was a motto, a mantra, something to hang above his head while he worked in silence.

She tore her eyes away from the disturbing sight to the shelf pressed up against the corner, lined with cases. The tapes. At least she wouldn't leave this place empty-handed.

Allison sifted through the cases, finding one marked with her name. She thought about taking the whole case, but she didn't want Sammy to notice that she'd taken anything. She settled on an old favorite of hers that Sammy hadn't revisited in years, hoping it would grant her some cover. Lonely Angel. Satisfied, she put the tape back and turned to leave the room. Her feet couldn't carry her fast enough as she left that terrifying sanctuary behind her, nearly tripping over Sammy's sheet music now as she bolted for the door, threw it open, and closed it behind her. Her heart was pounding wildly. She couldn't wait to leave.

Suddenly, the lights all turned off with a pop, drowning her and the room in darkness. She yelped, covering her mouth with her hand a moment later. Spotlights lit up the band chairs, now occupied by smiling Bendy cutouts. Another spotlight lit up over the observation room, where Sammy was smiling down at his audience of inky demons.

"And now, a riveting, private performance for our dear Alice Angel, in the flesh! The true Angel, not a cheap imitation that Joey would have us believe," Sammy said, his voice booming and echoing throughout the room, pronouncing to an empty audience. "Bravo! Bravo, for our dear Alice Angel! Miss Allison Pendle!"

Allison sprinted for the door on the other side of the room, racing passed smiling, painted faces whose eyes seemed to follow her across the room. Her hand reached for the doorknob as instruments blared from the ceiling speakers, Sammy conducting their pre-recorded songs. She gripped the knob, shaking it, but it didn't budge.

These rooms weren't supposed to lock. At least, not from the inside. Sammy had a lock built into the outside so no one could disturb him while the band was playing. But not from the inside. Not to keep the band from leaving. She banged on the door with her fist, then slammed her whole body into the side. She could heard Sammy humming as he came down the steps. Slow. Methodical. Not at all rushing or worried. She slammed into the door again, feeling the cheap wood creak, but nothing more.

"Oh Miss Allison, I think I'll ask for one of my favors now," Sammy said, his voice right behind her. She froze, her shoulders stiffening as she tried to will her body to turn around, to face him and get ready to fight if she needed to. But she couldn't. Her body wasn't listening. She was still facing the door, facing her only means of escape, some part of her begging for the door to open.

"Whatever you want, you can go shove it up your ass," Allison hissed, hoping the ferocity of her words covered up her low, trembling voice.

Sammy chuckled. "Ohhhh, you're going to do what I say. Or I'll tell Joey everything."

"Joey already knows everything," Allison lied. It wasn't a total lie. Joey knew more than she would like, but she didn't know exactly how much he knew.

"Oh really? Joey knows you went and visited Henry? The man he hates more than anyone else?"

"How...how do you know that?"

"You really shouldn't make such important phone calls from lines in the park," Sammy said. "Those can be traced, you know. Saved into audio logs. Recorded for later."

Shit.

"What do you want?" Allison said, finally forcing herself to turn around and face the man. His eyes were wild and crazy, pupils so dilated his eyes looked black. Animalistic and inhuman. And that mask, that horrible Bendy cut-out. He was wearing it now, to no surprise, but she had no problems picking out who was behind it now. How was it not so obvious before? Maybe she just hadn't wanted to believe that someone she worked so closely with could have so completely lost his mind.

"I want you to sing for me," Sammy said with a smile. "We're going to summon my lord."

Norman paced back and forth through the halls. She was late. She wasn't supposed to be late. He was supposed to grab his projector reels and tools from the maintenance rooms, then meet her here, down in these dark tunnels and pathways, right before the park closed. He checked his watch again, half passed closing time. He'd been out in the park at first, watched the workers usher stragglers along. Watched them sweep the park for any stowaways, then quickly clean and have everything ready before dark. It was getting dark now, the sun was setting and Norman had retreated down into the tunnels to avoid getting seen by the workers. Now he worried about something else finding him.

His hands were sweaty, he was finding it harder and harder to grip his recording equipment. It wasn't really the best sort of thing to use to capture live footage. It was meant for animation after all. But when Allison asked if he could adjust it to record live footage at night, he'd blindly agreed, thinking that he could probably make something like that happen. And that's what he'd done, when they both arrived at the park. They were going to go out at night, record some footage of Alice and Bendy after dark, and try to broadcast that on all of the TVs. Then would be the rides, removing just enough screws to make the warnings go off, but not enough for anyone to get hurt. They just wanted to delay the rides, get all of the guests in a position where they would have no choice to watch the screens for entertainment.

Even then, they weren't sure if it would be enough evidence to shut down the park. So there was one final plan, one final thing that would be a foolproof way to keep people away from the park. Allison was supposed to go get her audio tapes. They were going to broadcast them through the park during the day in hopes that Alice Angel would break character. So that people could see her for what she really was.

Well, that was the plan anyway.

Now, Allison was nearly a whole hour late, and it was long passed sundown. Norman was losing his cool. Had this all been a trick? Had she left him here on purpose, a traitor to Joey Drew, to get him caught? Maybe this was all an elaborate joke, and soon all sorts of his coworkers would emerge from the woodworks to laugh and point. He'd probably prefer that now.

There was a loud bang down the far right corridor. Norman yelped and nearly dropped his camera, scrambling backwards away from the dark hallway. He didn't mind dark places. But only if he had a light.

With shaky hands, Norman reached out and flipped on the projector light on his camera, illuminating the tunnel ahead of him a short ways. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to feel a little better. He'd be able to tell if something was coming toward him now.

There was another bang, this time to the left. Norman spun around, his light catching something darting passed the hall. His heart leaped to his throat, pounding away, adrenaline urging him to run, run Norman, get out of here, there's danger about, but his shaking legs couldn't do it.

Another bang. Closer this time.

Way too close.

He spun around, screaming as his light illuminating a familiar face.

Boris couldn't scream, but he covered his eyes and crouched down in fear, Norman's light practically blinding him.

"G-G-Get away from me!" he shouted, taking a few steps back. "G-Go on now, you freak!"

The Boris still didn't move, still covered his face with his hands, even when Norman turned the light off to stop blinding the thing.

"Geez, what the hell's wrong with you?!" Norman shouted, his voice breaking and cracking.

Boris peeked out from behind his hands, pointing over Norman's shoulder.

He gulped. He slowly turned around.

This time the scream died in his throat, catching before it could erupt out of him. The grotesque form of an Angel stood before him, smiling widely.

"Well, who do we have here? Another toy for me? Or are you trying to keep me from my Boris?" she cooed. "I only want to have a little fun with him. Ahahahaaha!" That sickly sweet voice of hers dropped off into the laugh, dropping into a guttural, low octave that made him shudder. Her eyes widened fiercely as she reached out for Norman. "GIVE ME MY BORIS!"

Norman screamed, dropping his camera and taking off down the hall as fast as his legs could carry him. Boris was right at his heels, and sometimes, he was right at Boris's heels, each running as far away from the fallen angel as they possibly could. She was always just a step behind them, her furious screams echoing down every hallway.

Norman didn't know his way around the tunnels. He didn't need to go to other areas of the park. Just in and out of the studio. So only a few turns in, and he was already lost, trusting that this frightened Boris at least knew where he was going. But of course, his brain wasn't thinking about things like trust. It was only survival, it was only the hormones and adrenaline pumping into his legs and his lungs, keeping him running and making him wish he didn't smoke every now and then as his lungs lit up with fire, but adrenaline does wonders for pushing away pain too. No, Norman didn't feel the burn. He just felt his heart threatening to burst out of his chest if he didn't keep running. So he did, even as Boris led them both up out of the tunnels, and down hallways that Norman didn't take the time to stop and look at, to notice how familiar they were becoming.

"Alright now Allison, I've got your microphone right here," Sammy said, moving her to stand closer to the already humming equipment. "Alllll I want you to do is sing a little song. I'm just going to broad cast it through the park a bit. Amplify it so that he may hear it, wherever he may be. Then he'll come here. And now, we don't have a Joey Drew to scare him away."

Allison didn't say anything. She knew the microphone was already turned on, and any words of protest, any words at all, would just be giving Sammy what he wanted. She thought about calling out for Norman, telling him to run and get away, but Sammy was smart, too smart, and even if she didn't use Norman's name, he'd be able to figure out that she wasn't here alone. She couldn't sell Norman out like that.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It had been over an hour since they were supposed to meet. She could only hope that maybe Norman had given up and gone home, gotten out and gotten somewhere safe. But she wasn't sure.

Sammy moved in front of her, ready to conduct her with another wide grin she could see through the hole in his mask. Her glare never left his face, and his arms lingered a moment from their conductor position.

"You're wondering...why I'm doing this, aren't you? Why I'm trying to summon Bendy?" he asked calmly. It sounded like the old Sammy for a bit. Mellow. Calm. Controlled.

She nodded.

"I've spent a long time believing that humanity was our own gods. We created our gods in our art, in our minds, in our songs, and that as a composer, I was just as much a god as any golden man in a cathedral." He chuckled. "Quite egotistical, I know. But it was something to hold onto. It was something to believe, something to tell myself, that I was worth it, that I was doing something worthwhile in this place, in this hellhole of a studio where I worked, day in and day out, wasting my talents on children's tunes and watered down symphonies. I could have been writing orchestral masterpieces, but Joey wanted me to write something 'catchy.' Something the kids would like. It was disgusting. I hated it. And I hated that I did it, because I needed the money, and because at least it meant I got to see her..." he trailed off.

"Susie," Allison said, the word echoing throughout the microphone.

Sammy smiled. If Allison could see his eyes behind the mask, she would have seen them reminiscing. Staring off into memories of so long ago. "Now there's a woman. A woman who could sing. A woman who poured her heart and soul into every note, who didn't care that she was being the voice for a pitiful cartoon, no, no she relished the fact that she could be something that thousands saw on the screen. Alice Angel was never just a character to Susie, it was Susie. It was her first real personification on the silver screen. And that's what she wanted. Thousands of eyes on her, drowning her in praise, telling her that she was worth more than her humble roots. And I, oh, I was more than willing to throw praise at her, tell her how wonderful she was, relish in the way her eyes looked up at me, shining with admiration...now there's a woman who made me feel like a god. And then...you came along."

She swallowed. She hated the way his mouth twisted up into a grimace.

"And my dear Susie left. Heartbroken and crushed. No words could console her, and then she left. Gone. Disappearing into the wind. Returning to heaven. You have never been enough to replace Susie. But I buried those thoughts, I buried my angel because as a god, we can't linger and dwell on when our creations and loves die, we must continue on in our glory!"

"You're crazy," Allison whispered. "You...you've completely lose your mind."

"NO! No, I see Allison. I knew, I knew that wonderful, fateful night in the studio, when Bendy, when my lord appeared before you. I saw that the creations of man could become their own gods, I saw the perfection of such a being, made of ink, such a perfect form. Can you imagine, living like that? Never growing old, never growing hungry, living in a world of ink, shapeless, reborn again and again into the perfect form. THAT is the definition of a god, it is something that is not only created, but that is alive and living without needing to breath! We created LIFE, and that life has become the god of gods. The king of gods. And I will receive his blessing. I will become as he is. I just need to bring him here. I just need YOU."

She didn't make a sound.

"SING!" Sammy screamed, making her flinch.

Fine. You want me to bring your precious god here? You want to see him so badly? That was alright with her. Allison knew that Sammy was delusional, that the Bendy that he worshiped didn't really exist. Bendy was a monster, a horrific abomination, the aftermath of experiments gone wrong. If Sammy didn't see that, it was his own fault. And he'd have to pay the price.

She leaned towards the microphone, closing her eyes and taking a breath.

"I'm just a lonely angel, sittin' here on a shelf. At times it seemed if I just dreamed, I'd not be by myself."

Allison was scared. Even as the notes and lyrics left her lips, she shook. As somewhere in the park, the ink demon lifted his head toward the sound, she shook.

This was her only chance. Maybe if she really could lure Bendy here, the resounding chaos of when he came would give her enough time to escape. It was the only chance she had. It was better than trying to stay here with Sammy as insanity crept further and further into his mind.

"I never gave up hoping that you would come along. How bleak it seems, til you found me. So now I sing my song~"

She heard wood creak through the studio. The unmistakable sound of ink dripping from the walls. Something was coming alright.

"I'll be your angel, sent from heaven above, your little angel, cast out for you to love, I'll be your angel, fit me just like a glove. So won't you say, a prayer to me, ba-by?"

Sammy's breath caught in her throat, and Allison's words died on her lips for just a moment as she faltered. No. She would stay strong. She just kept her eyes closed. She knew that if she opened them, she'd see shadows stretch across the walls. She'd seen the candle flames flicker and burn out.

"Cause I've been waiting, and I've been so alone, ain't have no-bod-yyyy I can call all my own, so be my angeeeeel, and say a little prayer to meeeee!"

She heard the hissing. The shaking. Just a little more, Allison. Just a little further. She steeled her nerves, tried to imagine the room disappearing, tried to imagine that it wasn't Sammy standing before her, but Tom. Her Tom. Had she ever sang for him before? Had she ever given him a song, just for him? She didn't think she had. She regretted that now. So she pretended it was him. Just him and her. And nobody else.

"And when I fall, it's into your arms. I never could resist all your charms, you devil. It's far too late, my soul can't be saved. Cause when I hear you calling my name, it's heaven. Ooo, my heart goes, sha-boop da boop boop, sha-boop da boo wow!"

"My Lord," Sammy whispered. Allison felt him over her shoulder. She'd probably be safe to run now. But she'd managed to forget about the room for just a moment. She'd managed to forget about Sammy, and Bendy, and Joey, and everyone else. It was just her and Tom. And she was going to finish her song.

"Brush off my halo and try out my wings, I'm just your puppet when you tug on my strings, I'll be your angeeeeeel, and flyyyy straight into your heaaaaart."

Allison opened her eyes, biting back her horror as Bendy's eyes stared at her, his mouth shaking up and down with a hiss. He reached for her again, his grin too wide, too gleeful.

Her voice cracked, not needing to be picked up by the microphone now, her shaking and trembles no longer mattering.

"I'll be your angel, and fly straight into your heart."

There was a loud, sudden crash from the other end of the studio as the door went sailing open, the remains falling to the ground in splinters. Norman was there, huffing and puffing with his hands on his knees, Boris beside him. He must have been the one to kick down the door. It was a strange sight, the Boris.

He looked furious. And scared. His eyes locked onto Allison's, and he made a made dash for Bendy.

At least, that's what Allison thought. In retrospect, he might have been running from Alice, who was standing behind him, staring at Allison with her mouth agape in fury.

"Shit," Allison whispered, and for one, brief moment, the entire room was still as everyone stared at each other in shock and horror.

And then all hell broke loose.

Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've had a busy few weeks and suffer from chronic migraines (which obviously make writing very hard) so this chapter was a little later than I would have liked. Hopefully the intense content makes up for that though! Look forward to another chapter coming out soon, and thanks for reading!