A/N

Hey everyone! Welcome to yet again another new story. Why do I keep doing this to myself? I don't know. Anyway, here's a new fic that I hope y'all will enjoy, and I'm hoping it gets me outta my writer's block... Well, I don't have much to say for this fic, other than it's a Bendy and the Ink Machine fic, based off nothing but my own mentally unstable thoughts XD. I've nothing else to say, so let's get on with the fic. Also, happy holiday's to anyone who celebrates anything in this time. :)

One

The funeral wasn't big, her grandfather never was one for making friends. It was mainly just Harley and some of her grandfather's work buddies. It was a fairly warm day, in the middle of spring, and there wasn't a cloud to be seen in the sky. It was strange, how nice of a day it was for an event such as this one. Harley could still feel the tightness in her chest that seemed to make it hard to breathe and the stinging sensation in her silver eyes when she thought about her grandfather.

Harley's grandfather had been a prestigious man and for a while, had worked for the famous Joey Drew, before his animation studio went bankrupt and her grandfather left the company. The man had died just before his ninety-seventh birthday, so the small family had waited for the day to come to have his funeral. It was serene in a way.

Her grandfather had taught the woman everything she knew, and now, the only family she seemed to have a true connection to and love for, was dead and gone, buried so far deep, she didn't think she'd ever see him again. Maybe that was for the better. Her mother had always said that he had his reservations going on about life. And, now that he was no longer around, maybe he'd be able to leave his reservations behind. Maybe she could too.

By the time she got back to her farm, Harley was exhausted, but she still had a load of chores to do around the farm before she could even think about sitting down and putting her feet up. Looking across the acres of field, her silver eyes locked onto the mailbox just up her driveway. It had been a bit since she last checked it. And, maybe that job had finally contacted her.

The mail box wasn't too full, but it did give her some letters and bills. A gust of wind threw a letter from her hands. She went to pick it up when her eyes landed on the signature and address that sat at the top of the envelope. It was from her grandfather. On the envelope was a sketch of Bendy the Dancing Demon, one of Joey Drew's most beloved characters, and her personal favorite of his creations.

Harley could remember the first time her grandfather had introduced her to the cartoon animation. It had been a hot summer day just before her seventh birthday and her grandfather had come down to visit her and her mother. The man had brought along some of his work, claiming that he wanted Harley's help in designing some new characters. They had sat at her mother's dining room table for hours, brainstorming what the new character would look like. Her grandfather had said that Bendy had been in need of a friend, which is how Boris the Wolf came to be. Boris had been one of Harley's designs that seemed to never leave her mind, even if he sat at the back of her thoughts, only to be brought about some amount of time later by a random thought.

Later in the night, as the day came to a close, Harley's grandfather had caught her just before she went to bed and tossed her a doll, saying to keep it close. It was a Bendy doll. She remembered being so excited to have the plush that she hadn't entirely heard what her grandfather had said to her.

Just as she had been about to fall asleep, her raven hair sprawled about on her pillow with her silver eyes almost closed, the sound of shifting caught her ear. She had turned ever so slightly and caught sight of the plush that she'd had in the bed with her. Its small black pie-cut eyes seemed to gleam with something that wasn't just the light from the moon. She had told herself she'd question it in the morning, but she never got to. Her grandfather had been gone long before she ever woke up.

Harley still had that doll, only now it was far more worn out, and some of the black coloring had faded, coming to a dull gray. She couldn't understand how or why her grandfather had sent her a letter, much less one that was to be sent when he was beyond the land of the living.

Sighing, the woman walked back to her house, watching as the sun slowly set behind the forest on her land. The farm had been in her family for generations. It had been her great great grandfathers, before being passed all the way down to her.

When she walked into her house, Echo, her Rottweiler, started barking, before trotting up to her. Harley laughed slightly, kneeling to pet the behemoth of a dog. Echo groaned, rolling onto his back, wiggling into the floor. Harley rolled her eyes before standing again and walking to her table.

She didn't entirely want to open the envelope. Her grandfather had told her about the studio, what it was like working under Joey Drew. According to her grandfather, he was a horrible man to work for, always pushing his employees too far. Harley had heard the news of the man working one of his animators literally to their death. Sometimes, she worried what would've happened to her grandfather if he'd stuck with the studio, even in their bankruptcy.

Taking a breath, Harley forced herself to open the envelope. Inside was an actual letter along with many diagrams of the characters, showing their designs, as well as the blueprints to something called an "Ink Machine". The diagrams of the characters were interesting to her, but Harley wanted to read the letter first.

To my dearest Wolf,

If you're getting this letter, then it's highly likely I've died by now. There's so much I still wish to teach you, but unfortunately for us both, now there's only one thing I can still do for you. I hate doing this, I don't want you anywhere near that place, but I feel as though you deserve something more than what I was able to give you. Go to the address listed on the back of this letter, it'll bring you to Joey Drew's studio. There's something about that place, something strange. I couldn't figure out what it was before my passing, but you've always been the sharpest tool in the shed. Go to the studio and find answers. And one last thing… stay away from the Ink Machine. It's much more than what it seems, and I have a theory that it's the reason things aren't as they should be.

Harley felt her chest get tight. It had been almost a decade since she'd last heard her grandfather call her Wolf. Ever since she'd come up with the idea of Boris, he'd had that nickname for her.

The woman took a breath before setting the letter aside, picking up the multitude of sketches. Each one was so detailed, that Harley could lean closer to the drawing and still be finding details. At the bottom of the papers were her grandfather's signatures as well as those of a Henry Stein, Joey Drew's most prominent partner. Harley didn't know much about Mr. Stein, but her grandfather held him in a good light, better than what he held Mr. Drew in, anyway.

From what she could tell off the sketches, Mr. Stein was a remarkable artist, most of his works containing Bendy and Alice Angel, with some of Boris the Wolf mixed in. Her grandfather had said that when he'd shown her sketches of the wolf to Mr. Stein, he'd taken to him like a fish to water. While he had technically never given Harley credit for the wolf, he didn't outright take the credit for himself. In fact, any sketches with Boris held nothing of his signature, only a small one sitting on some part of his other characters.

Harley couldn't help but sit and just admire how much care went into the characters. She imagined that no matter how many times the men drew their Ink Creatures, they never once forgot some part of their designs. The woman looked over the sketches for a good couple more minutes before glancing over at the Ink Machine. She didn't know what it was, but it was different from the other drawings. It was schematics for an actual machine. And something about it made her grandfather weary enough to warn her against it. Why?

She would never know the answer to her unspoken question unless she went to the source itself. Which meant she'd have to go to a long abandoned building that likely was guarded by police. The Studio had been a big thing to visit when it was still producing the cartoons, and Harley knew that it would be popular to teens who needed some sort of adrenaline shot.

Harley sighed before setting the pages down, her fingers coming to pinch the bridge of her nose. She had been known as a troublemaker before her grandfather had died, and she knew that most of the police in their town would be looking for a single reason to cuff her. But, she couldn't help but feel like this was something she needed to do, either for her grandfather or for herself.