Memories

Chapter 2

Let the games begin.

**********

Creeping. Walking. Limping. Wading.

That was all The Projectionist did these days. He was tired. Tired, and angry. His personality had changed drastically. No longer the smart, responsible "dad" of the studio. Yes, he was still smart and tactical of course, but he grew very aggressive. Quick to anger. The opposite of his old self.

He was creeping around his domain when he heard the Angel tut over the intercom. "My, my.." She trailed off. He rolled his eyes under his mask, thankful he had decided to wear it.

"It seems that our lovable composer has finally awoken from his slumber." She paused, snickering to herself. "Hm.. He seems very.. attached.. to the Demon." Disgust laced her voice. Disgust and venom. "But he seems eager.  Eager, and strategic." She stopped for a few minutes. Leaving The Projectionist wondering if she would finally speak again. And which, she did. "Maybe I can persuade him. Or make some sort of alliance. Ooh, yes.. Perfect. I wonder how this will go..!~" She practically sang, cackling like a witch afterwards. Then it was dead silent.

He immediately knew who she was referring to. It was none other than Sammy Lawrence, the snappy and sassy composer.

Very good-looking too. Light golden locks, and chocolate colored eyes. Pale skin that was soft. And a cigar always in his mouth.

The Projectionist sighed, remembering every moment he had with him. Every word. How they had known each other since childhood. How he began developing a crush on the other soon after he began working at the studio.

No time for that. No reminiscing. It's only going to hurt worse.

He stopped in his tracks.

..Maybe.. Just maybe. Maybe he could attempt to see him again. There was no doubt that the composer had been corrupted, like they had. But what the Angel had said stuck to him. Like a pesky glob of ink.

"'Attached to the Demon'," He quietly recited, his speaker sputtering out static. There were multiple meanings to that. He was either a big fan, or. Well.

Let's just leave it at that.

That didn't make sense to him. Sammy had always disliked, practically despised Bendy. Especially when Bendy had come to life the first time. Always sneaking around and playing tricks on people. Pranking them. Of course, there was no harm in it. He never meant harm. He just wanted a laugh.

But that annoyed the musician. Annoyed him greatly. He would often rant in the past, pacing in his office. Going on and on about how much of a distraction it was. How loud it could be.

The Projectionist would then tease the other. Tease, and joke around. Either cause the other to get startled, flustered, or even angrier.

He missed that.

There was a slight hope inside of him now.

But there was also a problem.

He didn't want Sammy to see him. To see what happened to him. To see what he had become.

But his body betrayed him anyway. He soon snapped out of his thoughts, realizing his legs were moving. His feet were moving. Taking him somewhere. But not just anywhere.

To the Music Department.

"Fuck."

**********

There, on the wall. A phrase. A phrase was written, freshly added to the morbid decorations. Fresh ink dripping from the letters.

"He will set us free." Sammy stared at what he had written for a moment. As if he were in a trance. He finally tore his eyes away, picking up his axe. He slung it over his shoulder. And began to walk off.

He had finished making the place more eye-catching. Well, eye-catching to him meant pentagrams, candles, and shrines everywhere. He wanted the studio to know that he worshipped his lord. That he was the Demon's prophet.

But why did he need it to be eye-catching?

The answer was simple.

To lure the creature in. To lure it deeper.

He had a gut feeling. A gut feeling that the creature wasn't as stupid as he thought. Sure, it would be drawn deeper into his territory, but what if that was what it needed? Wanted, even?

He would definitely have to think.

Hm. Maybe he could play into the creature's hands. Make it seem like he was going to lose. But then, at the last moment..

He was going to take it by surprise.

He would win.

He was going to make sure of that.

He absolutely hated losing.

He grinned at the thought. Showing himself to the creature. Taunting it. Drawing it closer. Then simply.. knocking it unconscious. He would move forward from there.

But there were multiple factors he had to take into consideration.

Find a way to remove the mask. There was surely a head under it. That would be much easier to hit than a projector.

Act stealthily. Shouldn't be very difficult, considering he had discovered he could travel through the pentagrams he drew. Just needed a couple candles by them in order for them to work.

Have the upper hand in the end. He would ensure of that. He would have that. There was going to be nothing that stopped him.

Perhaps he could leave a little puzzle for it. A puzzle to open his sanctuary. There were five instruments still in the recording room. 

All it would have to do?

Know his favorite song.

But once it opened and entered his sanctuary, there was no turning back. He would be very well aware of its location.

And that just delighted him. He hoped his lord would be pleased. He hoped he would be praised and rewarded after.

For a sacrifice is very, very important.