If you end up liking the first chapter, see the end for an important author's note (seriously, please check it out).

Whamm!

Henry felt the air rush from his lungs as his back hit the wall. The sheer force of the hit was enough to send him straight through the metal plating. He laid sprawled on the hard floor, dazed and winded. No matter how many time he'd gone through it, this part never got any easier.

He found his legs, abliet shakily, and forced himself to his feet. He reached down and picked up the film reel from the ground, checking for dents. Ignoring the stars that danced along the sides of his vision he stumbled his way into a sprint. He dashed through the maze of walls that made up the labyrinth, his mind racing.

What am I doing wrong? What else could I possibly do?

He found himself removing the Seeing Tool from his beltstrap, scanning the walls in a sparactic manner.

I know you called me here for a reason, Joey. There's always a reason. Yet, no matter what I do up top nothing- nothing changes the outcome of this fight. I always end up here, fighting for my life against this godforsaken ink demon and restarting the cycle.

He rounded a corner and stopped, spotting an glowing arrow on the ground. As many times has he'd been down here, the labryinth never made any sense to him.

What attempt is this, anyway? 358? 521? 414? 1096? There've been so many that I've lost track.

Henry followed the in arrow's direction all the way to it's end; a large metal lever being his prize.

What am I missing? There has to be something I'm not seeing-

"Gah!"

The ink demon was upon him, barreling down the hallway on all fours. The ground shook with the beasts rage as it charged; the intensity growing as he approached.

Henry stumbled backwards into another hallway, feeling the air rush over his body as the demon passed. He doubled over on his hands and knees, gasping for air. He stayed like that for a few moments, wiping the sweat and ink from his forehead.

I gotta get back to the throne room. At least then I can start the cycle over and have some time to breathe topside.

He grunted back into action with Seeing Tool in hand.

There's always next time.

The big metal doors that had once been closed were now open. The room in front of him was a large open space with a metal grid floor and a glass tube in each corner of the room. Henry knew this room all too well. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

Turn the wheel. Juke the demon. Play the flim reel.

He cracks his neck and stretches his shoulders, releasing all the excess tension from his muscles.

You've done countless times, Henry. What's one more?

He grips the sides of the valve with both hands and turns, his body grunting with effort. The wheel squeaks into action. Ink begins to flow through the various pipes in the room, giving off an odd chemical smell. He keeps turning until the wheel stops and the ink runs in a steady stream through the walls and floor. He turns, knowing what he'll find as consquence.

Bendy was there, seemingly materailizing from the air around him. He looms over Henry in a monsterous stance and growls lowly. He rears back ready to charge for a roar-

He stops, lifiting his head skywards as if searching for something. Henry paused momentairly, weary of the ink demons actions. And then he heard it. Whistling. Something- no, someone was whistling a song. The tune was cheery and familiar, yet felt eerily out of place in this tense moment.

Bendy's horned head whipped from side to side, trying to find the source of the noise. Henry took a step back, confused.

This... this is new.

Without warning, the ink demon reared it's head back and shriek; seemilgy more of a cry of fear than anger. A moment later he turned and bolted back into the wall he came from, his inky presence gone in an instant.

Henry stood in silence for several seconds, the only sounds being the constant hum of ink pipes and the strange whistling. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the metal door opened to his right. He couldn't see around the corner, but he knew the opening lead to the throne room. The whisting was coming from in there.

He felt dread creep up his spine as he stood ajar, unsure of his next move.

Screw it. Can't be worse than the ink demon.

He gripped the Seeing Tool tight in his hands and slowly approached the door. He stopped just before the opening and took a breath, preparing to jump out and swing if necessary.

Henry felt his stance stiffen when he turned the corner. He blinked, feeling all the blood rush away from his face and his fingertips went numb. He felt like he was looking at a ghost that had come back to haunt him.

Joey Drew stood near the center of the room. He was wearing a button-up and tie with a vest. His slacks were neatly ironed and his shoes a shinny black. He looked the opposite of Henry, who's wrinkled and ink covered overalls and boots were held together by shoddy patch work and Gent brand duct tape.

He leaned nonchalant against rest of the throne, using it as support while he looked up. He was staring at the projections on the walls with a hint of fondness in his eyes. It took a minute for him to notice Henry was even there.

"Ah, Henry!" he exclaimed. "So soon? I hadn't expected you for another hour yet. Now you're just trying to impress me."

He began his descent down from the perched chair, smiling as he approached. Henry stood too baffeled to move, letting his former partner come to him.

"What? Can got your tounge?" Joey chuckling as he walked. It was then Henry found his voice.

"Joey? Joey, what are you-"

"I know... I know... You have questions. You always do!"

As got closer, Henry could help feeling there was something... off. It wasn't a something he could pin to just one thing about him. He looked almost like an imitation of Joey. Close enough to be recognizable, but just crooked enough for the naked eye to catch. It was Joey. And it also wasn't.

"What's on your mind, old friend?" Joey loses his usual gameshow host persona, leaning towards a more sincere tone. Henry found himself stumbling over his words, his mind racing. After all this time in the studio he had found himself asking more and more questions that he knew he would get the answers to. Now, the answers were right in front of him, and now he couldn't remeber any of the questions.

Joey seemed to take note and let out a deep sigh.

"The truth is, Henry, you're trapped here. And it's my fault." Henry should've felt a lot of things in the moment, but the tired look in Joey's eyes told Henry something. It was the kind of exhastion that came from prolonged torment and mental anguish. Joey was just as tired as he was.

"I've done a lot of awful things in my past Henry. I've paved a road on my mistakes and my greed. All my friends, enemies, aquantancies- I used their bodys as pillars all the way to the top. And what of it? My road burned behind me and I fell. Hard. And no one was there to pick me up from the rubble."

He took a long breathe. "I used to blame you, y'know? I mean, you left for a good reason. That Linda was the best thing that's ever happened to you. Even I can't deny that. But you were always good at pushing. Pushing me to do the right thing. Without you there my moral compass spun so wild it would've made you sick."

He suddenly stops and extends a hand, motioning to the film reel in Henry's arm. Without a word he placed the reel in Joey's outstreched hand. Joey stared hard the words written on the side.

"The End," he read aloud. "Although it's never really the end, is it? It always repeats your past misfortunes in front of you, whether you like it or not. A cruel joke."

He looks back at Henry with a sympatheic look in his eyes. "Like I said Henry. I've made a lot of bad choices in life and I've had to deal with them. But my mistakes shouldn't have to drag you down too."

A loud bang sounded from the room behind Henry. They both turn to see the a large metal chunk of wall hand been blown off, now being doused in a small but steady stream of ink.

Were the pipes always this loud before?

The movemnt of flowing ink had definitely gotten louder. The quiet humming before was now more of a low rumbling coming from every direction. He could hear the glass pipes in the other room rattling in their metal fastenings. Suddenly another leak sprang from a wall in the throne room spraying a jetstream of ink into the opposing wall. The black liquid rained down from above them in tiny dropplets.

"Joey, I think somethings wrong with the machine! It's never been on this long without Bendy destroying it himself. I don't think it can handle the pressure much longer!" Henry was practically shouting over the noise now.

He covered his face with his hands sheilding himself from the down pour. He watched as Joey, unphased by the situation, turned and walked towards the throne.

"I know you've done a lot of pushing while you've been down here, Henry. And I can't say I feel good asking you to do more when you've already done so much."

Joey stops in front of the projector and slides the reel into place, a satisfying click eminating from the machine. He glides a hand over the metal to the small power switch on the back of the contraption. He looks eyes with Henry.

"But truthfully, I'm running out of time and I can't fix this by myself. I need you on my side just one more time, old friend."

Behind Joey an anomolus ink pattern formed on the wall growing bigger every passing second. A low growl eminated when a pair of horns suddenly appeared from the ink shadow.

Oh no.

"So push a little harder for me, ok? And come visit the old workshop when you do. There's something I'd like to show you."

Joey flipped the switch and the reel began to play.

"Wait, Joey-!"

A lot happen within the next few seconds. Bendy emerged from the wall with a claw raised, ready to swing at Joey with the intent to kill. The fist came down and Joey vanished into thin air. With the momentum already in place the hit connected with the projector, shattering it to peices.

Below them the pressure from the ink had reached it's apex and burst forth from the ground like a gyser. The blast shot into the air and erupted through the ink machines roof. The shockwave was enough to send Henry flying backwards through the air. He flew vertically for some time, his body weightless of a moment. Then his head connected with ground with sickening speed, and his enitre wolrd went white.

(A/N: Hey, what's up everyone! It's TU365 here! I'm here to give you a complete, nonsense breakdown of what's to come [I have absoluelty no idea].

To be completely honest, I have a horrible track record of starting fics and then getting writers block like a week in and giving up. I'm on vaction right now and am using a laptop that has been so grasiouly lent to me by my family member. It is also why I don't currently have grammerly and I'm going to post this chapter with a butt-load of grammatical and spelling errors [yay]. I promise to come back and fix them when I return home.

Also, this fic may not stay/continue on this site. As you all know has been having some issuses and a lot of writers have moved over to AO3 as a result. I put my email in to create an account but I didn't realize how long the process of said account creation actually took. So I'm going to post the first and maybe second chapter here to see how the masses take it.

If you like it, sweet! Glad you could join the story. If not, sorry for your loss [I know I'm going to be humbled when people start pointing out easily avoidable grammer errors]. And honestly as I may not even switch to AO3 if it turns out I don't like it. But isn't it better to know you're options?

Anyways, I'm gonna cut this short as not to take up too many words to the total count. So, I'll see you in the next one. Stay AWESOME. BYE BYE!)