…And now we're on to the scene of these guys properly interacting with some folks. Again, the Bendy characters are the property of themeatly and JDS. Like I mentioned, please let me know if there are any issues with understanding the flow of the story. Hope you all enjoy!

Scene 2: Environ

He'd been standing off to the side when the most recent attempt had woken up, freezing as the limbs flailed around for a moment before it sat up. There was a moment where it seemed like it had some obstruction in the throat, though it easily cleared that and shakily stood. It hadn't seen him yet, eyes instead turning from their hands to their front, and then to their face, shaky hands patting at the glass-like surfaces that had covered part of its face and upper torso.

While this one was certainly more cognizant than the majority of the attempts, there was something in him that grew cold as a deeper toned, slightly hushed voice came from its mouth.

"Wh-What's happened to…?"

The words cut off with a gasping sob, the attempt's body folding as it staggered to the side of its containment. It huddled in on itself, continuing to cry as it rocked back and forth. It still hadn't noticed him.

The thought came to examine this new specimen, make sure they weren't having any problems that could turn into potentially fatal issues, though another curveball came in the form of the attempt talking again, this time with a younger voice. Still sounded masculine, though it was nearly hard to tell given how choked it was with crying.

"Doll, d-doll please…please stop…"

Doll? As in, referring to a woman? It briefly made him wonder just what soul had been used to make this attempt. There'd been about three in this round and he'd tried his best to avoid taking in specifics. Joey might've promised that there'd be no repercussions, but it didn't soothe his mind.

But the specimen still cried, switching between the previous two voices and a hitherto unheard third. A more feminine sounding voice.

"It's gonna, be okay, it's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay…"

The weeping began to quiet down to gasping hiccups, his brief freeze waning as he stepped forward. The light noise didn't register to the specimen at first, and he was able to come up to the table in front of its containment. Then he'd stepped on something, some bit of paper that made a crinkling noise and immediately caught the attempt's attention. It jolted with a gasp, eyes wide as it flickered between whole ovals and flip-flopping pie-cuts.

For a moment, there was a standoff, before something in the attempt's expression loosened into a wiggly, unsteady smile. There was something familiar about it, but damned if he could put his finger on what it was.

"H-Hey, mister?" It spoke, in the younger male voice. "Can y'let us outta here?"

Then its expression flipped, going from wobbly and trying for optimism to perturbed and faintly nauseous.

"There's, it's too much…I need air, please…"

That was the woman speaking. He hadn't heard the deeper voice yet, was that a sign that this one would fall apart, as some of the others had? He hoped not, they tended to get agitated when it became clear what was happening…

Then again, this one did look complete, even whole. It didn't appear to have any problems articulating, there was no sign of malformed limbs. Maybe it would survive the night.

"Stand up. And come to the door."

It obeyed the command easily enough, though there was a long moment where it stared at him, eyes swapping around again. Internal communication, or multiple perspectives clashing? Were they even aware of it?

Some of the others weren't, and that seemed to be part of what doomed them…

Either way, he'd have to be attentive. Lord knew he didn't want to deal with some enraged, crazed attempt trying to grab him again, especially when the last time had ended in bruises. Even if this one was shorter than him, Dr. Hackenbush was taking no chances.

The attempt was cowed easily enough by his presence though, moving to stand next to the examination table at his direction. He noted how their eyes went to the clamps at the edges of the table, the rise in tension telling him that they'd likely guessed what they were there for.

"If you don't try to fight me, I'll be able to make this quick."

"…What're we doin', exactly?"

That was the younger boy's voice again, the mouth quirking in that oddly familiar smile, even if it was more than a little nervous at the moment. Strangely enough, there was an odd…distortion? Effect? Well, he wasn't quite sure what to call it, but it looked like their teeth were…opposite shaped, in a sense. Usually the pointer, sharper edge of a canine would be the longest part, but it seemed like the teeth were somewhat reversed, with the lowest part the center of the tooth. It was such a bizarre sight it caught him off guard for a moment.

"Sir?"

Immediately the good doctor snapped back into the moment, it would do no good to be distracted when dealing with an attempt. Especially if it decided to go insane in the next few minutes. Docile or no, it would be a very bad idea to underestimate one.

"Get up on the table. I need to check your vitals."

"Is somethin' wrong?" Again, the boy. But given that his very clear instructions hadn't been followed, he saw no issue with letting a bit of his annoyance seep into his voice this time around.

"There might be. Do you want to find out now, or later?"

There was a flinch at that, the attempt considering the table before pushing themselves up. The movement was a little awkward at first, like it tried to propel itself two separate ways the first time around before catching itself and formerly deciding on the one.

Whole orbs met the doctor's eyes, right before the attempt looked away with a burst of shyness. It was a definite change in pace, though for the moment he was more willing to take advantage of the less-obstructive mood.

And thankfully the attempt didn't fight too much as he went through the motions of checking their eyes, trying to find a nose for a few moments before giving up, and peering into their mouth.

It didn't even fight him too much as he directed it into lying down, though that might've been more out of shock given that the instant he touched the attempt's midsection it gasped and bolted upright so quickly he reeled back, fearing it actually would try to strike him.

But the doctor was surprised, and a little bemused, to see it immediately roll to the opposite side of the table, hitting the floor.

"STOP TOUCHING US!" The shriek was three-fold, but as the attempt cowered behind the table, it was the woman's voice that spoke up.

"Yamero! Please, don't, don't do that!"

The burst of a foreign language threw him off, the attempt seeming more than a little perturbed by it too as it felt at its mouth, but it was the fact that it was a young woman's voice, clearly afraid and mortified, that finally injected some shame into the moment.

With a quiet sigh, Dr. Hackenbush kneaded at his forehead, and locked eyes with the attempt once more. It was still staring at him, eyes flickering through smaller pie-cuts, larger with the pie-cut swapped, and whole orbs. Unsure, still very wary, but for an instant they simply considered each other.

"I-I apologize," he started, trying to think through his words. "I need to be able to do a cohesive examination. You are in a delicate state, and I want to be sure that you are…healthy."

The words did seem to get it, them, to think, shifting eyes trailing around before sticking to the smaller pie-cut pupils, which squinted as they looked at him.

"Tell us what you're doing. No, no just, touching. Tell us what's going on."

That was the deeper, masculine voice. The one that he hadn't heard yet. Guess whoever, or whatever it was, actually was cognizant in there.

Then again, two could play this game. And if there were going to be open lines of communication, then it might as well go both ways.

"Alright. But in exchange, you have to answer the questions I ask you."

"Okay." All three voices spoke up for that one, the effect more than a little strange to hear, and apparently strange to experience in the moment given the flinch and blink that came from the attempt itself. But, with a shake of the head, it dispelled the brief daze, eyes going back to the whole orb as it looked to the doctor.

"W-What should I…?"

It took him a moment to realize that the attempt actually was being cooperative, Dr. Hackenbush regathering himself and jumping back into the role of an examiner.

"Please lie down. I need to gain an understanding of how your internals work, and I think we'd both rather I do it this way rather than something more invasive."

"Yeah, I think we would too." The boy's voice came again, breathless with nerves as the attempt's face twisted in a mildly horrified smile. Even with a newfound sense of jitters taking over its limbs, they still got back up onto the table, lying down with a preparatory grimace.

Dr. Hackenbush moved back into place, about to simply follow through with the examination when he remembered what the attempt had requested.

"I'm going to be checking the placement of your organs by feeling around your abdominal area. It might feel a little odd, but I need you to remain still." Briefly he prepared himself to continue, before a thought occurred to him. "Is that enough of an explanation?"

"Yes." The attempt answered back, this time in the deeper masculine voice. Smaller pie-cuts stared up at Dr. Hackenbush with a mix of resignation and ironclad scrutiny, like he might be hiding an unpleasant object somewhere on his person to surprise them with. Not that he was about to, but he knew that trying to convince the attempt of that might take hours, time he didn't want to spend on the endeavor. So, for the moment, Dr. Hackenbush gave the uneasy look a chastening order not to move, and went to work.

The next few minutes were the strangest blend between what felt like nerves and a somewhat deranged hilarity, given that apparently this new attempt was ticklish around the ribcage. It seemed to mostly come from the younger, male personality, the older male growling at the other to shut up multiple times to no avail. Still, he did find what he needed to, that the attempt seemed to have internals that closely matched what he knew of the average human. Attempts to listen to their heartbeat were a little stymied by the notion that the strange, partial glass covering encapsulated most of their upper chest and back, leading to the stethoscope head going to their neck and inside of the wrist instead. But, that seemed to come through fine too, not a single murmur or abnormality to speak of apart from an understandably quicker pulse. Their lungs sounded clear too, though the part that he'd really have to report on, and for the moment it was the most elusive, was just what toon template had been used in the making of this attempt.

While Dr. Hackenbush was no cartoon connoisseur, he could somewhat recognize the features of an inkwell in the glass-covered upper body, as well as the mask-like covering on the upper half of the face, along with a somewhat stained, white feather poking out of what looked like a tangled mess of dark hair (its own confusing thing, but he put that to the side for now). The feet also offered another hint, in that one had a shoe with a distinctive spat while the other was just a plain black with a slight heel, a similar dichotomy mirrored in the attempt's gloves. One more ornate, the other simpler.

He had gotten a look at some posters before that were strongly coming to mind now, especially one of the studio's little devil being chased by an inkwell. The title of the short, given its partial pun, came easily enough, Dewey Decimated.

But all of the attempts so far were combinations in terms of design. Usually two, though occasionally there could be three progenitors, so to speak.

Those didn't last especially long, he'd noticed.

The inkwell toon was likely the first template that managed to come through here, but who was the other? The hair immediately made Dr. Hackenbush think of the studio's starlet, Alice Angel, but if that were the case, the gloves were all wrong, as were the short black horns he'd caught poking through the top of the attempt's head also not a match. It did seem like there was a female personality, but apart from being there it didn't seem to have much of a physical impact. If that personality was supposed to be Alice, it seemed too soft-spoken.

And the female voice had been the one speaking another language, which Alice wasn't supposed to be able to do.

Unless, of course, this was some other personality that had gotten mixed up somewhere. The Boris/Edgar hybrid had showed a similar sort of balancing act. However, between this and that amalgamation the running theme was making Dr. Hackenbush uneasy, the humanness of the personalities seemed to imply that there was something that survived the process.

Immediately after he had the thought, he tried to stuff it to the back of his mind. It would be better not to dwell on it, it wasn't like he could do anything once the ink claimed someone.

Or, at least, that was what Joey said had happened…

Feeling more than a little uneasy, he continued his examination.

A somewhat tattered bit of cloth around the attempt's neck was what he happened to zero on. He'd spotted it before when trying to get a pulse, but couldn't help taking it in with new eyes now. Trying to tell himself he was not redirecting, Dr. Hackenbush's fingers quietly toyed with the fabric. It was horribly ink-logged and stained, but perhaps at one point it might have been white.

What distracted him from that was that the attempt's head was starting to move, neck craning to look at what the good doctor was touching. Despite the static-ness of the inkwell half of its face, he swore he could see a confused, furrowed brow in the rim of the glass ringing its forehead.

"Why're you lookin' at my bowtie?" The boy's voice spoke up, larger pie-cut eyes turning to Dr. Hackenbush. For the moment though, the good doctor was not answering. Instead, his mind was more taken up by what he had just heard. That was a clue to the other toon involved, he was sure of it, but which toon had a-

It hit him like a slap to the face. The bowtie. Those horns. The tap-dancing shoe. The smile. The inkwell character did not have any of those characteristics, it pointed to a very different toon.

One that Drew had said he didn't want replicated under any circumstances. Not since that disastrous first attempt. And, even if this version was relatively healthy, the fact that it was mixed with a D-List antagonist would probably send the temperamental studio head right over the edge.

Dr. Hackenbush's hands were going for his bag before he really registered what he was doing. It was probably a habit that had become instilled in him after the one attempt had nearly broken their wrists trying to scramble after him from the table. His motion was not missed by this attempt, who craned its neck to see what he was doing.

Perhaps he should have made more of an attempt to hide the small syringe of morphine, but he hadn't expected that the attempt would even see it from where it was. It would have been a quick, lethal dose, an easy way to kill the attempt before it even knew what was happening. But, given that he hadn't bothered to strap it down, it was now warily sitting up, eyes fixed on the small silver needle.

"Sir?" The woman's voice asked at first, before shifting into the younger boy's, into Bendy's. "What's that?"

"It's…" The doctor started, briefly fighting the somewhat incriminating impulse to look down at the syringe in his hand. "It's medicine. I spotted a problem; I will help you overcome it."

There was a long, hesitant pause after that, before the attempt gave a somewhat halting nod and a softer 'okay' that seemed to be coming from the woman.

But, as he stepped forward, the smaller pie-cut pupils appeared, the deeper male voice speaking up now, hard and suspicious.

"No. You were calm a minute ago. There was nothing wrong. Then you saw Bendy's bowtie and now suddenly you want to give us medicine. Now suddenly something's wrong. Why? What is wrong?"

The near bark did unnerve him, Dr. Hackenbush wondering how quickly he could cross the room before it recovered and tried to defend itself. But, before he could act on any plan, the pie-cuts turned to full ovals.

"Sir," the woman's voice warbled, before the attempt steeled itself with a swallow and a breath. "No one wants to hurt you. I just, we just want to understand. This isn't… I don't remember who I am. Please don't keep any secrets from me. I may not know, who I was before, but, I want to know what's happening now. I need to know. Please, just tell us. We won't hurt you if you're honest. You're not in danger, I promise."

I don't remember who I am. Like there was something there before, but it had been erased. Was this…a person? One of the employees? Did they somehow survive the process with their mind intact, if not their memories?

"…Are you aware of what cartoons are?"

"Yes. They are, animations. Moving pictures." The woman's voice responded, the fact that the woman had been the one to speak up briefly stirring that feeling of wrongness before the good doctor shoved it back down and continued on.

You can't do anything about it now…

"Do you remember the Bendy cartoon?"

"A, a me cartoon?" Bendy's voice spoke up, the attempt's head tilting at the question. And, well, to be fair, if someone had asked Dr. Hackenbush if they had seen the Hackenbush Show or something of the like, he'd be fairly confused too. If not somewhat worried for the other person's mental state. Briefly that thought spiraled off into others, ones he hadn't been able to really get an answer for before. Were the cartoons aware of their lives on the big screen, and that they were on the big screen, being viewed by millions of people? Or was it like the human viewers were some collective voyeur into the lives of the toons, one that the toons themselves were completely unaware of?

Still, while those questions were tantalizing ones, now wasn't really the time to get into them. So, instead of indulging his curiosity, Dr. Hackenbush endeavored to provide what he hoped was a good explanation.

"Yes. We are currently in a studio that makes cartoons. Cartoons of Bendy. He is a character in the cartoons. He, his friend Boris, Alice Angel…"

"I don'," Bendy's voice started, the attempt's body language growing withdrawn as it huddled in on itself. The larger pie-cut eyes darted from the good doctor to the floor, like some reassurance would somehow be engraved in either place. "I don't understand…"

"There's not much else I can say apart from that. But, there is something else you need to know." Hopefully they wouldn't stall too much trying to question this, who knew when Joey would come back… "There was a previous attempt to bring you, Bendy, to life. It did not go well. If someone sees you, if anyone working in the studio sees you, they will have you killed when they find out that, that you have that toon template."

The silence dragged on for a good few minutes, nearly to the point where Dr. Hackenbush wondered if what he'd said had completely broken something in the attempt. All things considered, it was a lot to absorb, even if he wasn't sure they really had the time for this. The attempt's eyes were flipping between all three shapes, the complete ovals, the larger pie-cuts, and the smaller pie-cut pupils, as its mouth hung slightly open. Briefly Dr. Hackenbush's fingers reregistered the feeling of the syringe, his mind growing calm and centered even as he knew the terrible deed its contents were capable of performing. And, well, he'd pretty unequivocally confirmed that this was a sapient being, if not in a somewhat fragmented sense.

But, considering how many times working with the creations of the Ink Machine had nearly cost him some part of his body, if not his actual life, Dr. Hackenbush knew the value of being safe over being sorry. And if it was going to be a matter of the attempt, or himself, he'd pick himself.

He very nearly jolted as the attempt snapped to, the eyes set with the smaller pie-cut pupils. Though for the moment it seemed like the other toon, the inkwell, had bigger concerns than the doctor.

"Bendy. Do you remember being here before."

Almost immediately the body language and facial expressions shifted, going in time with the eyes changing to larger pie-cuts. Bendy, it seemed, was still fairly rattled by everything happening, the attempt's body shivering slightly as the younger voice spoke up in a breathless tone.

"Wh-Wha-?"

And then it snapped back to the inkwell's more ironclad, austere frame and tone, the deeper voice practically growling as it spoke.

"Answer the question. Don't lie. Do you remember this place, or anything like it?"

And then back to the more upset, nerveless Bendy.

"N-No, no, I've never even been-"

"-That's all I need to know." Dewey said, cutting the little devil off. His next question went to Dr. Hackenbush, the man watching the exchange with a sort of morbid fascination. "What happened to the previous attempt?"

"Drew got rid of it, I think." The words were said quickly, but the weight of them lingered in the space between the amalgamate and the doctor, their smaller, pie-cut eyes traveling down to the syringe still held in his hand.

"Like you're trying to do to us."

"No." Dr. Hackenbush immediately spoke up. "We're going to try something else. You won't have to die, but you need to do precisely as I say."

"You won't hurt us?" The woman's voice questioned, hopeful but still confused.

"I won't, but Joey Drew likely will if he finds you. Follow me, this way." Dr. Hackenbush quickly gestured for the attempt to follow, passing a brief look to the door. Some of the urgency seemed to leak through to them, eyes flipping between shapes before they stuck on the full orbs and the attempt hurried after him.

The good doctor hurried down a close hallway, the reason for the closeness being the fact that there were spaces that were blocked off, similarly to cages. At first, it seemed like these were empty, though as they glanced through something hurtled at the barrier of one, slamming into it hard enough to rattle the wooden material and make them nearly leap out of their collective skin. They briefly got a glimpse of an ink-streaked, pale face ringed with what looked like dark hair, gnashing teeth flecked with grayish spittle. A hand clawed beyond the divider, Bendy and Her recoiling but Dewey reeling forward with an equally feral snarl as their hand slammed down on the other's forearm. The thing pulled away with a distraught howl that somehow teemed with multiple voices, their own lungs heaving with both effort and stress as they stared at the space beyond the divider.

They might have stood there for a while longer, but a shifting from the good doctor drew their collective attention back to the man, eyes flipping to full orbs as She took control and staggered after him. As they passed another few cages, movement in one made them collectively jolt, glancing over enough to see something turn to look their way before they hurried on.

This place is a nightmare. It wasn't clear precisely who had thought it, but not one of them was willing to contradict it. Their frame huddled in on itself, arms clutching at their biceps as they tried their best to focus on the doctor's retreating coat. The doctor's coat which had ink stains at the hem, though before they could really take that in he stopped at a door, bringing out some keys and hurriedly unlocking it. They didn't have time to question much before he was ushering them inside, glancing around like there might be someone nearby listening in.

The room itself looked to be a storage room, with boxes scattered about and on top of a partially buried desk. There were no windows, and apart from a flickering emergency bulb set in the far wall there wasn't any light. The sight was dismal, their face twisting in unease as they turned back to the doctor, wondering if perhaps there had been some mistake, or maybe this was just going to be temporary. However, they were sadly disappointed by his next words.

"I will come back and give you food, you need to stay in here and above all, remain quiet. If someone else comes in, or attempts to, do not help them or reveal yourself. Hide and wait for them to leave, if you can."

And with that, the door closed, leaving them standing in semi-darkness. The quick dismissal rankled Dewey's anger, the inkwell making their mouth draw into an angry snarl as tension settled in their shoulders. The feeling of hands clutching at their arms briefly made him jump, before the reason came through. That was Her. The Lady. In a strange way, he could feel the fear building, from both Her and Bendy, and it banked down on the molten anger that flared through their collective guts.

But with that no longer in the way, a jittery, frantic fear began to grow a hundredfold, the focus of the tidal wave emanating from Bendy as the little devil's mind took direct control of their body, kneeling down in a trembling huddle on the floor as he started to whimper.

"Th-This place is nuts, everythin's crazy-"

"Bendy, s-stop-" She spoke up, though the small toon was beyond listening as his voice steamrolled hers, picking up into a terrified holler.

"They're gonna kill us! They're gonna, I didn't do anything wrong!"

The emotion choked through them in the form of a sob, Bendy crying into their knees. Ink started to run from their head, dripping over the lip of the inkwell top that ringed their skull. But, before they could sink too deeply Dewey's presence came up again, the inkwell's presence tapering off the crying with a determined inhale and exhale.

"That won't happen."

The certainty to the words made the pair draw out of their own mires, that ringing declaration bolstering even as Bendy tried to question it.

"Wh-What'dya mean, you heard him, h-he said-"

The little devil cut off in a choke, Dewey rising up like a wall as he spoke.

"No one is going to kill us. We won't let it happen. If someone comes through that door, we'll…" Dewey's words tapered off, but not for a lack of drive. He was just planning where to go from that point, and he found his next step forward in the form of a wooden box with a somewhat loose plank.

Their hands grabbed at the wood, the pieces giving a slight groan as they pulled it away. Dewey's mind led the fore, making their arms give the plank a few practice swings before tucking themselves partially behind some boxes, out of immediate sight of the door.

If someone came in, especially if that someone meant them harm, they'd be ready.

Thank you for reading, and again, if you do spot any inconsistencies or issues with story flow, please let me know in a review.