From Afar

Our Lord Will Save Us

Heyyyy. So I know it was a long ass time, but I'm sad:(. Forgive me!!!! But here it is. As always comments, questions, and suggestions are always appreciated!!! Also... it's a bit short.

"Sheep, sheep, sheep, it's time for sleep. In the morning you may wake, or in the morning, you'll be dead," I spoke into the microphone with a grin. My Lord will love this tender sheep, I'm sure of it! Maybe he'll finally set me free from this horrid inky prison. Just maybe...I'll be human again...maybe.

The ink veins spread across the room, seeping it's way into the booth I was in. I wasn't expecting that, but as they say the Lord works in mysterious ways.

I frowned as my sheep kept struggling, didn't he understand he was a sacrifice?

A loud growl grabbed my attention. Hesitantly, I turned. My Lord stood before me in all his glory, and he looked pissed. I begged my Lord to stay back, but who am I to order my Lord around? Of course, he wouldn't obey me, who am I but a measly prophet?

My Lord was gracious enough to not send me back to the well of ink. So here I am, a barely conscious ink blob. Honestly, I might as well call myself a damn searcher at this point. However, unlike those poor souls, I have a purpose! To serve my Lord, my dear savior... I haven't been a very good prophet, have I?

My Lord hurting me must mean something, right? I don't understand why. I was trying to be a good prophet. Sacrificing is a part of being a prophet, right? Goodness, what should I do?

I glanced down at my mangled form. Perhaps I should start by allowing myself to heal. I knew crawling back to my sanctuary would be painstakingly slow, while also being quite inefficient. So what in the world should I do?

I looked around the ink stained booth. A dark cylinder caught my eye. Bacon soup! Of course, why hadn't I thought of it sooner?

I dragged my body as best I could towards the can on the ground. My hands shook as I tried to pry it open. I cursed as my injured hands just continued to be abused by the harsh tin. Lucky for me, I think I saw a loose wire near here. I could use that to pry open the tab.

So again, I used my arms to pull myself towards the exposed wire. I'm really hoping that wire isn't a live one. I hissed as the wire shocked me, my luck hasn't turned just yet.

I drank the disgusting contents of the can. The horrid taste was merely the cost for salvation! I could feel my ink hardening, my body slowly regaining its shape.

I laid there for a few minutes. My limbs ache and I felt nauseous. The ink pumps weren't helping either. All the noise was about to give me a headache, but I couldn't force myself to move. I should use this time to think of what my Lord would want. So he doesn't want a sacrifice, and I'm fairly certain he is impartial to the shrines, or at the very least doesn't hate them. He never takes the soup, so he doesn't respond to food. My Lord, please give me some guidance. All I wish is to please you...

I flinched as a lost one fell through the roof. It's body made a disgusting splattering sound as it hit the wooden floors.

Was that the sign? What could it mean?

"Help me," the lost one croaked while it reached for me.

I will admit, I was very squeamish at first. However, I know this is the sign. Frankly, I think I can interpret it. My Lord wants me to help his subjects! Why, it's so obvious I can't believe it took me so long to finally understand!

I stood up with such vigor, the poor lost one flinch. Oops. "Don't worry, my little sheep. I will help," I proclaimed with a smile. For My Lord I will save all his wonderful subjects!

I scurried around looking for bacon soup to feed the injured Lost One. I knew bacon soup could help with injuries but thick ink would be so much better. I shook my head as I picked up a few bacon soup cans from the shelf. I have to think positively.

I made my way back to the booth and the Lost One was still there. Perfect! I used a knife to pry open the lids and handed one to it. The Lost One blinked owlishly, not taking the can.

I frowned at the tilting head it was doing. "Eat it, it'll help you regenerate," I offered the can again.

The Lost One took the bacon soup with shaky hands. It struggled to down the can , but ultimately it did manage to finish the cans. Its leaky ink slowly began to harden into a more solid shape. A job well done! My Lord will be proud.

"T-thank you," it whispered.

I grinned and responded, "Don't thank me. Thank our Lord and Savior, Bendy! I hope this will help you realize that we must believe in our Lord!"

The Lost One stared at me for a few seconds before nodding slowly. How wonderful! I helped the Lost One with its injuries and restored belief in my Lord! Joyous day it is!