A/N
Heyo! Welcome to the second chapter of Living Ink Lies. I just bought Bendy and the Ink Machine today, so I'm gonna be playing that and taking some inspo from the game and some Youtuber's. Right now I'm just piecing some things together and hoping it all ties in well. And just a warning, I'm gonna be adding in one more OC of mine. They're gonna be an Ink Creature that Harley can use to help her in the Ink Realm. If ya don't like that idea, well then too damned bad... Anyway, enjoy the chapter! :)
Two
It was completely dark out by the time the woman made it to the building, the clouds hiding the moon's shining light. An old backpack was slung across her shoulders, once belonging to her grandfather, the sketches and letter, along with some provisions, a flashlight, and a bat held within. Goosebumps lined the woman's arms as she stepped out of her old Dodge truck, the building seeming eerie with no light.
Harley trudged to the building, huffing when the doors wouldn't budge. The animation studio was locked up tight, it seemed, any and all windows and doors boarded and sealed, preventing anyone from getting into the long abandoned building. But, knowing how the teenage population was in the city, Harley knew that she just needed to quickly scope the place out before finding a broken window or pried open back door. And she was right. Within five or so minutes, the woman had found a shattered window. Unfortunately for her, it was far above where she could reach, even being on her toes.
Harley couldn't help but be slightly thankful for the fact that she had been in gymnastics in highschool and college. She had always been the best at high beam and tumbling. Throwing her bag up and through the window, Harley proceeded to back up slightly and took a running start towards the window, planting her feet against the wall, and grabbing onto the windowsill. Hauling herself up, she quickly shoved herself through the window, landing quietly on the balls of her feet.
Once more, Harley hiked the bag onto her back before setting out into the main part of the animation studio. The building itself from the outside seemed like any other building, but the inside was made into an office of sorts, some old cubbies had been made into small rooms of sorts, with most of the space being taken up by large desks and some bookshelves. Strangely, each room was so spread apart, that it seemed as though most of the artists and animators were kept in solitude.
With each desk she passed, she seemed to have an even worse feeling about the abandoned place. Something about the studio wasn't right, and her grandfather seemed to know it as well. Why he'd send her to this place of all people, was beyond her, but she was determined to see this through. He had trusted her to know about his suspicions, most likely she was the only one that he knew who wouldn't laugh at his questioning.
The paint on the walls was peeling, and there was a strange black substance coming from the roof, leaking down. The air in the building was stale, yet held the smell of something metallic and almost sweet. Every so often, the floors of the building seemed to sink under her steps, more black liquid coming up through the cracks of the floorboards. It made Harley wrinkle her nose, she did not wanna know what it was that was making the floor squishy.
As she went through the multitude of rooms, she found next to nothing. A couple old sketches here and there and some completely filled inkwells (which was weird in and of itself). At the very back of the building, however, is when she finally came across something. Her silver eyes widened at the sight before her.
Just past yet another office was a huge room, with most of the space being taken up by some weird machine. The base of it was boxy, a couple of gears making up a spout at the front of it, as well as a few on the sides, likely to move some unknown parts inside. At the back of the machine sat a giant vat of ink. Just in front of the machine itself were a couple pedestals, pictures below the platform showing what was supposed to go there.
Something about the machine seemed familiar, and the pedestals around the thing were ominous in and of itself. A rough picture popped into Harley's mind, one of the sketches that came in her grandfather's letter. This was the ink machine. The sketches that came with the letter, had no mention of those pedestals out in front of the machine, though.
Getting closer, Harley bends slightly, her ivory eyes moving over the images that stood before the pedestals. It pictured a book of some kind, what looked like a gear, a plush, an inkwell, a wrench, and a music disc. That had to be the weirdest assortment of items that Harley had seen listed. She just couldn't understand what they were for.
Harley's grandfather had never really mentioned his work outside of the sketches he would on the rare occasion show her. And he had never once said a word about this Ink Machine, nor about the items that it looked like it wanted her to gather. Whatever these items were for, they had to be in the studio right? Practically everything was still in the building, which was yet another thing that Harley tallied onto her mental list of strangeness.
The woman sighed before taking her backpack off and setting it on the floor. She had an emergency flashlight in there, and something told her that she needed to look for the items from the images if she wanted to learn more about the studio.
Clicking the light on, Harley swept it around the room before almost immediately finding two of the items, the plush and a wrench. The plush itself looked like a replica of her own Bendy one that she had at home, and yet, for some reason, something about it seemed off to the woman. It wasn't like hers, but she knew it was the exact same character. Maybe something about his design changed without her noticing?
She picked the plush up and gently squeezed it. No matter if it seemed weird or not, it still sent her a sense of nostalgia and longing. Looking towards the wrench, she went to pick it up but stopped short. The wrench had ink on it, and for some reason, the ink was still dripping and wet. Confused, she grabbed the tool and whipped it off on her shirt. The place had been abandoned for over thirty years, why the hell was the wrench still wet with ink?
Shaking her head, Harley continues to walk around, finding each item in weirder and weirder spots. The very last item was found on the wall above someone's desk. It was the book.
"'The Illusion of Living', yeah 'cause that doesn't sound foreboding at all…" She muttered, taking each object back to the matching pedestal.
With each placement of the objects a clicking noise was heard from the pedestals. Once each item was put in place, a hall of lights lit up, leading a path to the supposed Ink Machine. A light lit up beside the machine, a plate reading "Ink Flow Low".
"Ink Flow? What the hell is an ink flow?"
Looking around, nothing within the room gave way to the answer to her question. Well, that left only one thing left to do. Harley left the room quickly, making sure to remember where the room was. It didn't take her too long to find the Ink Flow modulator.
Flipping the switch made a resounding clunking noise travel throughout the halls. The hair on her neck seemed to stand up with each step she took back to the Ink Machine. When she got back to the machine, she couldn't help but stop in her tracks, dumbfounded. Someone had boarded up the entryway to the Ink Machine.
Getting closer, Harley tried to pry at the bars before something jumped out in front of her. The woman let out a scream, backing up against the wall behind her. In front of her, stood something demonic. The best she could describe it as was a black blob (that looked suspiciously like ink) surrounding some kinda mask. And for some reason, it reminded Harley of Bendy.
"Shit!" The woman yelled, the beast had started breaking the beams in front of the Ink Machine.
Harley didn't know where she was going, but she knew that she had to run. She got to the main room just as something came up behind her. Her body acted on its own, diving to the side and skidding across ink that hadn't been there before. Now that she looked around slightly, it seemed there was ink flooding into the building, coming from the Ink Machine.
Just as Harley started running again, the floor gave out from under her, sending her hundreds of feet below the actual building of the animation studio. She felt her body slam into the floor below the studio, before everything seemed to dim. She saw nothing else as she lost consciousness.