Just a Happy Ending

ZERO

"You know what I've learned? Never trust writers. Especially ones who love to write tragedy. They are sadists, you see. They rip out hearts and set them aflame.

"I am of course well-versed in the illusion of life, but few illusions end up quite like you. You... you wanted control. You wanted to try and write your own fate. Hah! You tried to steal your own story. What you willfully ignore is that it's all just make-believe.

"I suppose that is the upside of tragedies. Where else could you find such pure strife and blind grief, authoring such horrible events and setting them onto beings made sentient? Sentient toys are the most fun to break, especially the readers.

"But you've heard enough of me. How about we talk about you? We've spent so long in that little head of yours and yet... I notice some gaps. Or walls, perhaps?

"Regardless, you don't know how this all got started, do you? You know of the others, Sammy, Thomas, Allison, even Norman. How do I know? Because you tried so hard to get rid of the memories you forced Henry to live them!

"Really now, that seems awfully inconsiderate of you, forcing your own creator into horrible nightmares all so you could throw your burden of knowledge onto someone else. You really are such a selfish little demon.

"How about I reciprocate your selfish act? Tear down a few of those walls, fill in a few gaps, hmm? You know how you became a puppet, but you are only paper and ink. In order for all this to get started, I needed a different kind of puppet, one built of blood and bone.

"Come along now, Bendy. Let us take a stroll down memory lane."

The front door of the Studio swung open. Joey, wearing a nice casual suit and in a wheelchair, rolled himself into the hall. Henry followed, closing the door behind them.

"Wow," Henry said, "It's... been a long time since I've seen the place."

"Yes, a bit over thirty years, if memory serves me correct," said Joey.

Henry admired the posters on the walls, "I gotta tell you, it was amazing when Alice and Boris first came out."

"Mhm."

"I still recognized Sammy's songs, too! How is he, by the way, have you heard from him lately?"

"Uh..."

"We kept in contact for a while, but then he stopped responding. Studio had him busy, I guess!"

"As a matter of fact," said Joey, "I have been hearing him. That voice of his... you can never quite escape it."

"Right..." Henry's brow creased with confusion. "Anyway, you keep saying there's this thing you want to show me."

"Yes, yes, right this way." Joey's chair creaked as he led Henry down silent sepia halls and past dusty posters.

"I'm surprised this place is still standing," said Henry. "Thought for sure the building had been torn down when the Studio went under."

"They tried," Joey corrected, "but they could not. I've worked too hard to raise it. I would not let them tear it down."

"It's a great piece of our history, I'll give you that," Henry said with a smile.

Joey waved a hand, "Oh, history will likely never hear of this place again. But the ones who it touched will know it forever."

Henry let out a chuckle, "Old age made you cryptic."

"So sue me, I've found my love of riddles!" Joey snarked. "Ah, here we are!"