A/N: And here's our technically-first chapter, tweaked and hopefully a bit more coherent in spots! Again, any spelling or grammatical errors, don't hesitate to let me know.

Also, if anyone has any commentary on the additional scene in here, feel free to drop a line about that too. I always enjoy hearing feedback.

Cultists on Board:

Even before surviving out on the streets, if you were to ask Bendy if being tied up was one of the worst things to wake up to, he would have told you it had to be somewhere in his top fifteen to ten. What would push it into the top ten would be if upon waking up he was to hear a somewhat familiar voice quietly murmuring the following:

"My lord has returned…soon we will be free…very soon now…"

Once the whispered words sunk in, Bendy's eyes flew open, pie-cut pupils dilating with shock at the sight before him. Standing entire heads over him was a tall, inky figure wearing only overalls and a paper mask of Bendy's own face. Their hands were clasped in a familiar form of prayer though when Bendy's wakefulness made his bonds creak the figure stiffened, head jerking to look down at the shorter toon. Or at least, that's what seemed to happen, it was hard to tell through the mask. With the somewhat familiar, more human features gone, Bendy was at a loss for how to react, or really what to expect beyond the mummery he'd heard since he'd gotten here. He'd seen the pentagrams, the written words on the walls and the various implements scattered about, but this just made the gravity of everything crash back into focus in the same horrible way it had when he'd stumbled upon Boris.

"Who's, what's going on?!"

At this, the figure fell to their knees, kneeling in front of the horribly confused and anxious devil. Over their form, Bendy briefly caught sight of another gate, and his axe propped up on a dividing wall nary a foot away. Useful, if he wasn't tied up and there wasn't a crazy psycho of an ink monster in between him and it…

"My lord, my lord…" It chimed in that maddingly familiar voice. "We your servants have long awaited your return…"

"Explainin' nothin' there, pal. Who's we?" Bendy snapped, trying to sound more in control of the situation than he was while attempting to maneuver his wrists out of the bindings.

The manner in which their head snapped back up to 'look' at him caused Bendy to nearly leap out of his skin. For a brief moment, Bendy had to quash the mental image of the thing jumping at him much like the half-formed ink monsters had been doing.

"Your sheep, my lord, have long since been awaiting your return, for you to set us free from this prison." Barely a second passed, before the inky being's voice suddenly slipped a few octaves to the point where it went from creepy to downright predatory.

"I wish to be free from this…prison of a body."

A nervous warble of a laugh made its way out of Bendy's suddenly very dry throat, instinct dictating that he should keep talking even though really, how did a guy even answer that?!

"Ah, pretty sure I can't go givin' you a redesign, pal, an animator on the other hand…or maybe a doc, I dunno what-."

"Oh, you can't." The being's voice smoothly overrode the little devil's, sweet as molasses but with everything else going on, Bendy was hardly going to trust the thing for any change of heart.

"At least, not yet."

The simple sentence made the world stop on a dime, Bendy staring upward at the thing's nonexistent face as he tried to parse together some meaning, some hint for what was coming.

"I will restore you, my lord, I will bring you to your zenith," They said with a tone of pure reverence, hushed but crashing loud over Bendy's absent ears. ", and as you claim your rightful power, I hope you do not forget the orchestrator of your return."

The last was said in a quiet, madly wistful tone like the rest, but the words coupled with the voice finally caused something to break through the deadening shock. As the being turned away, walking to the side of the room, Bendy found his voice again.

"Lawrence? Sammy Lawrence? Izzat you?"

The somewhat hoarse series of questions got the man-turned-ink-blot to pause, though if Bendy were hoping that this would lead to some reversal of fortunes, he was sadly disappointed.

"Yes, my lord. It is I. And now, we will begin."

It was only then that Bendy happened to look down and notice the pentagram round his feet, just as Sammy came forward again holding in his arms what looked like some sort of jar about the size of a man's torso. The jar looked to be made of either very dark clay, or glass with a great quantity of ink inside. But by far the most alarming thing was the pulsing that the little devil could feel reverberating through his own ink, seeming to emanate from something in the blackened depths of the jar.

Whatever it was, Bendy certainly didn't want to stick around to see what Sammy, if this even was Sammy, planned to do with it. Unfortunately trying to wiggle out of the binds was leading nowhere, and in desperation the toon tried a new tack.

"S…Sammy! Sammy, please, I don't want this! I don't want this! I'm tellin' you to stop! SAMMY!" The last came out as a frantic howl, but even still, the ink-covered musician placed his load into a smaller circle on the edge of the pentagram that Bendy was bound in. Not that it helped much, if anything, the reverberating thrum grew stronger. The toon tried to shy away from it, though with what seemed like a pole pressing into his back, he really had nowhere else to go.

He didn't like it, he really didn't like it. The little devil's brain screamed as the thrumming hum seeped into his small form, pulling it forward like metal to a magnet even as he tried to stay upright. Gritting his teeth, Bendy dug in his heels, eyes screwing shut with the effort not to be drawn in.

A brief look showed Bendy that the top to the jar had somehow come off, and that the ink inside was bubbling and frothing, nearly leaping into the air. The pulsing increased, his upper body leaning closer and closer to the opening even as the little devil fought so hard to keep himself straight. The tug of war was only compounded as the foaming ink began to rise higher and higher, seeming to seek out some part of the toon devil to latch onto. Off to the side, he could vaguely make out Sammy chanting, or praying, he couldn't tell which. His attention was mainly focused on not becoming whatever thing this place wanted him to be, knowing with some horrible certainty that if he let it happen, he wouldn't be Bendy anymore.

The raw terror that thought inspired forced Bendy to keep trying, too terrified to even look away as the ink in the jar grew alarmingly close to his head. He was at as much of a ninety-degree angle as the ropes allowed, breathing growing strangled and a frantic scream building in his throat. The stuff almost seemed to be far beyond what the jar should be able to contain, growing up and up and up until Bendy had to crane his neck to look, his own body still being pulled towards the top of the inky mass as a drip or two fell on his head. Even as he stared it appeared to take on shapes, rounded ones up near the top that looked like a head, with dips in the front that were positioned just right to look like eyes, the ink in them sinking deeper and deeper until they were more like portholes than actual eyes, and they were staring at him as the 'head' leaned closer and closer as Bendy's own head kept being yanked forward, he can't look away, it's staring, he doesn't want it doesn't want it go away stop stop STOP-.

Bendy was not really sure when his thoughts started becoming hysterical shouts, but he was almost surprised to hear them reverberating off the wooden beams and walls. It was distant in the face of complete panic, vocalizations quickly snapping and breaking off into wordless shouts of fright as the 'head' came closer and closer to his own. The sounds clashed against each other to the point that the sight of Sammy being pushed into the rising mass didn't register right away.

At least, not until Bendy heard the ink-consumed man's last shout dying away into gurgles. The toon felt something like slippery, overlarge fingers brushing against his gloves and glopping against his jacket. Just as quickly the magnetic pull lessened on the devil's body, leaving him hanging limp against the ropes in shock. It probably made it very easy for whatever was there to slip him out of his bonds, and it was only when Bendy realized that he was being picked up and tucked under something's arm that he quite simply dropped back into reality. And realized that he was being held by the one thing that he hadn't wanted to be caught by since he'd been chased by it upstairs.

Speaking was still a very forgone thing at this point so when Bendy erupted into shrill howls, thrashing like an animal caught in a trap, he was only partially surprised by his own behavior. Still, the inky thing merely tightened its grip, and kept hauling the devil off to parts unknown. He only maybe just recognized where he was, and who knows what changes Joey could have made in the years Bendy was gone. If he waited, there was the distinct possibility that the smaller toon would not be able to reorientate himself.

In a flash of inspiration, Bendy did the one thing he knew would make any adult drop him; he angled his head just so and sank his teeth into the arm of the thing holding him. Oddly enough, there wasn't as much…give, as he thought there would be, considering that he was biting something made of ink. Instead, his teeth sank through the gloopy layer and into something hard. Something that definitely made the monster drop him almost straight away, a gurgling cry of pain sounding from somewhere over Bendy's head. As soon as the little devil felt the floor under his hands and knees, he grabbed his nearby axe and bolted, taking off down another hall.

It took him to a space where the floor had caved in, the sunken spot and a few stray boards forcing Bendy to slow down as he tried to clamber and chop his way through. As he turned, he caught sight of something large moving through an opening to the right, making Bendy freeze for a moment as he peered through the somewhat blocked space to try to figure out what he'd seen. The sight of chains running lengthwise through the window confused Bendy at first, until he placed what they were apart of; the ink machine's shaft. From just the presence of the chains, coupled with the downward-heading blur he'd seen a moment ago, the smaller toon realized that somebody had made the hulking thing start to go down through the floors.

A cry coming from the room he'd just left made Bendy snap back into the moment, his gaze riveting on the new sight of the monochrome ink monster starting to amble its way through the doorway he'd just come through.

Forcing himself the rest of the way through the boards, Bendy kept a cry of fright locked in his throat, instead using precious oxygen to fuel his mad dash to a room, the floor of which was slick with ankle-deep ink. The presence of a door bolstered the toon's efforts, though his hopes were immediately dashed when he tried to open it, and found that it was locked tight. Panicking entirely, the devil brought the axe up and smashed it through the door, creating a small hole in the paneling. The sight of something moving inside made him pause, Bendy gingerly leaning close to the opening as he tried to puzzle out what he was seeing. Not that he could see very much, but he could definitely make out something metallic and shaking on the other side, the vibrations strong enough to rattle the wood.

What made the image click was the fact that the thing was reverberating in a very familiar fashion, a clunking, gurgling sound bringing a new flood of ink seeping out from under the door. A snapshot zinged in Bendy's mind; the ink machine plans on Sammy's desk. This was entirely the wrong spot to be part of the shaft he'd just seen, but if they'd had the old ink machine…

The conclusion was reached, though chased entirely from Bendy's mind at a series of splats coming from behind him. The little devil's head rotated just in time to see the monochrome ink monster pull itself into the room. As he did, a new sound came through, like someone…whistling?

It did sound like a person, and they sounded close to the door, though with the way everything had been going for him lately the devil definitely wasn't willing to trust a maybe. Instead, as the monochrome monster pulled itself across the floor, Bendy opted to go with something else.

After all, he still had the soup can in his pocket.

As the can was pitched across the room, the monster jerked to attention at the splashing clank and turned away. The instant it moved, Bendy gathered up whatever energy he still had and raced past to the door, legs moving in a toony blur as he zipped around the opposite side. It didn't take the monochrome monster long to realize that it had been tricked, wheeling in the direction that Bendy had cut through, though by that point the devil was long gone.

Even though he hadn't been nabbed Bendy kept racing forward, zooming around corners as best he could while not accidentally boxing himself into a corner. He could just hear the sound of the monochrome ink creature as it tried to follow, but it was far too slow and he'd gotten too much of a head start. Feeling an ache starting to reverberate through his legs, Bendy practically threw himself down the last stretch of hallway at a door, slamming it behind him. Letting a bar drop into place, the devil backed away just in case it wasn't enough to keep the monster at bay. Faintly, Bendy could hear gurgling howls and cries coming from the slab of wood, though apart from a wet slap the thing made no move to come through.

Even though he'd gotten away, Bendy couldn't relax, hurrying down the hall he'd found himself in to another door, easily opening it and trying to close it as lightly as possible. No need to let anything, or anyone, know where he'd gotten to. Internally, his mind was a-whirl with the idea that there were two ink machines, was that an ink machine, had he turned it on with the other somehow, was Sammy trying to maintain it, why-?

The thought was cut off when a mere step forward made the devil uncomfortably aware of the fact that he really shouldn't have done what he did. It had been a desperate situation, true, but whenever he did cartoony tricks it definitely took a toll on his stamina. His feet dragged, though he thought he could maybe make it a little further, until he could find somewhere to hunker down…

Bendy had barely taken a few steps to the other end of the room when a sudden clunk sounded from somewhere off in one of the shadowed corners, the devil turning just in time to see a can of bacon soup roll across the floor to rest somewhere to his left.

Immediately, tension began to mount again in the small toon's frame, and his hands hefted the axe a little higher to scare off whatever might be waiting for him. Was it the big ink monster or something else?

…What if it was Joey?

"Who's there?!" Bendy hollered into the darkened corner, voice and wits more than a little frayed with nerves. "C'mon out, whoever you are, where I can see you!"

"Bendy?"

The voice sounded, familiar, but the familiarity at this point just caused the devil to tense up even more, axe raising a little higher in a preemptive effort at protection. Though any insides he may have had metaphorically fell to his shoes, when out of the shadows quietly stepped a lanky figure that was both a balm to see and so horrifically wrong given what Bendy had seen since he'd gotten here.

"…Bendy?" Boris said again as he stepped forward, hands raising in an effort to reach out to the much smaller toon. Something like relief tinged with surprise flickered over the wolf's face, though his efforts to come closer were deterred as a wide-eyed Bendy jerked back, axe shaking in his hands.

"No, no!" The borderline hysterical exclamation caused Boris to step back, in both concern and slight apprehension. "St-Stay back!"

"Bendy, I…" Boris stopped, trying to gather his wits for a moment before trying again. "Wh-what's wrong?"

Nothing was forthcoming, Bendy's breathing instead grew more agitated, the axe continuing to shake in his grip as he held it ready to swing. Boris let the silence hang for a few seconds before trying again, stepping forward and keeping his voice calm.

"Bendy, it's al-."

"No, no don-don't come any closer! No more tricks!" The last came out as a frenetic shriek with Bendy jumping back another few steps, until he was against the wall. Even at the worrying behavior, the exclamation caused a confused frown to take root on the wolf's face. He'd barely said anything, how could he be tricking the little devil?

"Bendy, how'm I tricking you?" Boris asked, only to be rewarded with silence as Bendy stared at him like he was expecting the wolf to hurtle across the room at any moment. "L-Look, just come into-."

"No." Bendy growled, low but pervading enough to stop any form of humor in its tracks. "Nobody's taking me anywhere, nobody's g-gonna, you stay over there..."

The words were still warbling, somewhat hysterical, though the axe in his hands did give Bendy a little more by way of stubborn insistence. At least enough to keep Boris back where he'd come in though Bendy, for all of his somewhat manic steadfastness, still had not managed to get the axe to stop shaking. Boris's eyes briefly flitted to the implement, then the devil's face; an almost perfect mask of aggressive stubbornness if not for the faint watery sheen in his eyes. Taking time to make it visually clear what he was doing, Boris knelt to Bendy's level, keeping eye contact with the shorter toon.

"Alright, Bendy, we'll stay here." His voice was calm, level. "Nobody's gonna take you anywhere you don't want to go. It's okay."

The declaration caused some of the frenetic energy to loosen from Bendy's frame, bit by bit, but the axe still stayed upright and at the ready.

"Bendy." Boris pressed, leaning in only a few millimeters given how on edge the little devil still looked. "What's…what's wrong? Please, talk t'me, I want t'help."

The simple admission had the smaller toon shaking his head, pushing himself further into the wall. Boris moved back himself, not exactly sure what had caused the change.

"Bendy?" The wolf tried, doing his best to keep his voice calm despite the confusion and unease starting to bleed through. "What's wrong?"

The little devil's mouth worked for a moment, seemingly fighting with emotion for words.

"Hh…How'd you get down here?"

Boris tilted his head, more than a little confused by the question.

"I came down on th' lift. It's right here, we can just go-." Immediately the wolf realized that it was the wrong thing to say, as Bendy jerked back again. "Of course we don't have t'go right now! Not if you don't want to, Bendy."

The pause after his hurried attempt at fixing the situation almost went on too long, to the point where Boris found himself fidgeting uncomfortably in the quiet and half-wondering if he should say something else or try to move back towards the door.

"I saw you." Bendy suddenly blurted out, catching Boris off-guard.

"Sorry?"

"I saw, upstairs." The axe lowered by inches, a shaking hand taken away from the handle to make a gesture running up the length of Bendy's chest. Boris's eyes only widened, either in realization, sudden memory, or some combination of both. His eyeline dropped to the floor in between them for a moment and the tension mounted in Bendy's frame, almost as though he expected the wolf to dive at him now that the seeming jig was up.

Instead, Boris gave a partially wet chuckle, looking back up at Bendy with an expression sitting firmly on the border of light and heavy as he spoke.

"Guess I shoulda listened t'you, back then, shouldn't I?"

It was so innocent, but the question carried a solid load of weight that knocked the tension from Bendy's shoulders, the axe lowering to clunk blade-first against the floorboards though the handle remained in gloved hands. But, really, Bendy didn't have the desire to use it anymore. Even with the idea that this Boris was some sort of copy or trick and that trusting anyone or anything right now was probably a sure recipe for disaster, Bendy couldn't help but feel the weight of the past several hours crashing in on him. He had seen his closest friend's torn apart body, the remains of a place he'd once called home perverted into something that seemed hellbent on worshipping him in the worst ways, been chased by half-formed monstrosities and one that seemed particularly dead set on getting him one way or the other, and what he was ninety-nine point nine percent sure was Sammy Lawrence that had just tried to…sacrifice him? Mold Bendy into something that he was very, very sure he didn't want to be? The devil wasn't sure, and he certainly wasn't about to go back and ask.

And then there was…all this…

"Bendy?" Boris asked again, his voice sounding like it was coming from underwater. Bendy felt as though he were seeing things from outside himself as his head lifted to meet Boris's gaze, noting the wolf's increasingly worried look with detached fascination. He certainly looked real enough (almost as real as the body he'd seen upstairs, the reason he'd turned that damned machine on, wasn't this what he'd hoped for?!). It even sounded like Boris, though if he was real, then the devil'd nearly, he'd just…

With a light thunk, Bendy dropped to his knees, letting go of the axe as his hands just quietly dropped to the floor. There was another sound, Boris probably said something, but it felt like background noise compared to the distance and buzzing thoughts in his head. Even if things had already been going to hell in a hand basket, it seemed like Bendy had made things ten times worse by showing up. Whatever plan Joey had been weaving for him, it could only be worse than what was already happening. And at this point, though his mind and imagination explored it, Bendy really couldn't say that he wanted anything like this to grow even worse, nevermind the possibility of it spreading.

He should never have been made at all, perhaps…

And suddenly there was someone hugging him. Bendy felt himself tense, almost slipping into panic if it were not for the late realization that really, it could only be Boris doing the hugging.

Then it was like someone had just, turned the sound back on, and what Boris was saying began to crash in on Bendy's ears.

"It's alright, I've got you, Bendy, I'm here…"

It felt like the same nonsense talk one would use to calm down an upset kid, though really, Bendy was not sure he felt that kind of upset. Kid-upset tended to involve more tantrums, and he just felt really drained, mentally and physically, and couldn't bring himself to care about potential tricks and possible sacrifices he could be walking into.

He was tired, hurting, and felt like there were too many thoughts in his head vying for space, none of them very positive ones. Chief among them were thoughts of jinxes, the sharp contrast between what he remembered and what was, and if you had simply convinced him to come with you instead of running like a coward maybe he might not have been lying on that slab with a hole in his chest…

"-ou alright? Bendy?" Boris was saying, pulling back and staring at the devil's face with worry. He could swear he felt the gears in his head start to groan in protest, but Bendy managed to get something like a smile on his face.

"Yeah, 'm fine." In retrospect, his earlier display would have made it pretty clear that he wasn't, but the devil really didn't want to go into the particulars of that at the moment. Thankfully he didn't have to; his stomach suddenly growling loud enough that anyone on the first floor could have heard was plenty distraction.

"Oh, oh geez, hold on, we've got-." Boris stumbled over his words as he outright hauled Bendy up, tucked firmly in the crook of an arm as he made a grab for the can that had been knocked across the floor a few minutes ago. Bendy just simply let himself be carried, eyes watching somewhat dully as Boris managed to grab ahold of the metal can and sat back, setting Bendy down next to him as he worked to get the can open.

"Got it!" Boris chimed in echo of the metallic peeling noise as he managed to get the top of the can open. Grinning somewhat at his success, he turned to hand it to Bendy, smile falling as he noticed that the little devil's still dull-eyed stare was aimed at the wall. Clearing his throat, Boris tried to proffer the can again, doing his best to slap a smile back on as Bendy mechanically turned to look. It took a few minutes for Bendy to remember that he should probably eat with all the energy he'd just expended. Though eventually the little devil reached mechanically for the can and pulled it close, lifting it to his mouth like one would a drink. Managing to get a few swallows down, Bendy suddenly chuckled hollowly, pulling it away to murmur quietly to Boris.

"Y'wouldn't believe me if I told ya, this actually ranks way better than some of th' things I've eaten th' past few years."

"Really?" Boris replied, somewhat hopeful given the seeming upturn in Bendy's mood.

"Yeah, durin' th' winters, allotta the time I would be eatin' stuff that came out of garbage cans. Nothin' really rotten, did have some standards, but, y'know, just…junky crud, really." Despite the fact that nothing coming out of Bendy's mouth sounded all that funny, there was still a grin spreading over the smaller toon's face. Though the more Boris looked, the more fragile the smile was and the shinier Bendy's eyes were. "Th-There was even a lady, you'll love this one, she kept makin' these pies, fer a bakery, an' I managed to run off wi' at least one every week for a few months. It was th' greatest thing…"

Bendy chuckled, the sound coming out all shaky and wrong. Boris felt the frown that had begun to take root on his face growing all the stronger, though Bendy still wasn't done talking.

"P-Pretty sure she was lettin' me, after a bit. Must've thought I was a kid and figured it didn' matter to lose a pie if I was gettin' something t'eat… Moved on after, 'bout maybe six months, but still seems…kinda strange really…" The quavering tone was getting worse, and when Bendy threw back another swig of bacon soup Boris could see the start of ink dribbles and tears starting to make their way down the little devil's face. "…just kinda…how we used to th-throw those…at each other…all th' time…in th…"

The more Bendy talked, the more warbling his voice became, the more ragged his breathing grew, and Boris for lack of anything else to do or really say placed a hand on the shoulder of the little devil's ragged coat. Bendy paused, pulling his hand away from an eye where he'd been grinding the heel of his glove in an effort to stem the tears, and looked up to meet Boris's gaze.

The smile finally crumpled, Bendy's hand turning into a fist which he used to muffle what was starting to turn into hysterical sobs. Boris really only managed to gently take the half-full can from the devil's hand before Bendy outright threw his arms around the wolf's neck, clinging desperately as everything from apologies to laments dribbled from his mouth. Somewhat stunned by the sudden turn of events, Boris only found himself hesitating for just a moment before hugging back, hoping that Bendy couldn't feel the shakes that were starting to reverberate up and down his arms.

They stayed like that for a long time, noise barely rising above whimpers and so-quiet-it-might-as-well be whispered fragments, apologies and reassurances flitting back and forth between the pair. Eventually, sobs started to taper off into quiet hiccups, and grew even quieter still as Bendy finally ran out of steam, falling asleep with an arm still thrown over one of Boris's shoulders. It took the wolf a few minutes to notice that the little devil was finally spent, though when soft snores started to drift up from the smaller frame, Boris gently began to rearrange the smaller toon so that his head was tucked against his shoulder. Keeping Bendy mostly upright with an arm, the wolf's ears pricked up as he listened, catching sounds like the low rumble of ink in the pipes overhead. He could hear nothing else, but still thought against drifting off as well; someone probably should keep watch. Even with the quiet undercurrent of tension, of hiding, Boris still refrained from waking the devil up, noting how exhausted, and careworn Bendy looked, even in the relative relaxation of sleep. The patchwork jacket and scarf added to the image, making Bendy look even smaller and more vulnerable. Boris frowned at the thought of the last word being applied to Bendy; the little devil was many things, but vulnerable was hardly what the wolf would consider one of them.

Bendy was the one that figured things out, whether it be various objects in the studio, or the people that worked in it. Most often it was to use in various pranks or games that he would somehow cobble together, but still, the little devil would often put things together in ways that Boris himself would never have thought of doing. All in the name of some laughs, really.

With all of the energy, all of the sheer gumption Bendy seemed to have, the idea of vulnerability had never quite crossed Boris's mind. Then again, he'd never really heard Bendy sound like the screams practically reverberating through the floor. Boris wasn't even sure if he wanted to know what happened, not after, well, everything earlier.

Instead, he simply made sure Bendy was comfortable, listened for any odd noises, and settled in for a wait.