My Little Devil Darling

Reunited, But at What Cost?

Charlotte awoke with a gasp, sitting up quickly with much regret in doing so. The room spun and blurred in front of her and she closed her eyes and took a breath, waiting for the dizziness to subside. Once recovered, the girl opened her eyes and took in her surroundings; she was no longer in the Ink Demon's lair, instead she was back in the animation department, way back to where this whole adventure began. She almost didn't recognize it at first, with her memories back she saw the area in a new light. She could clearly imagine the days spent up here, seeing faint past figures wandering the halls: Sammy, Susie, Wally, Joey, and of course, her father. She smiled warmly, reminiscing the years she spent here, the joy she found in the art, the music, the family and friends. This was no longer a random broken building she stumbled upon, this was home.

All of a sudden, Charlotte heard faint whimpering only a few feet in front of her, and she looked over towards the noise. A blob of ink was moving in that same direction and the girl stood quickly, taking a few steps back. There was no weapon in sight, what if it was another enemy? Without something to defend herself, she'd die in a heartbeat. The blob pulsated more but soon a figure emerged, becoming a familiar form, and his face turned towards Charlotte with an unfamiliar expression, was he crying?

"Bendy?" Charlotte spoke out softly, her heart throbbing at the sight of the cute character in a distressed state, "You're back? It's really you."

The young woman wasted no time in rushing over to the Demon, kneeling down and hugging him tight. Bendy only stood there, tears still falling, but he was happy; he had been alone and angry for so long that he almost forgot what it was like to be happy. Charlotte let go of the hug but didn't let go of Bendy, one hand still placed on his shoulder and the other wiping away his inky tears. The little Devil couldn't contain his excitement and bounced his knees up and down, making the girl giggle.

"I'm so happy to see you again, Bendy," she said, letting go and resting her hands in her lap, "I remember everything, isn't that exciting? I remember you and my father, my life here and how amazing it was. Are you the one who brought me here?"

Bendy continued to bounce, his hands shaking excitedly and nodding his head. He looked around and spotted the plush doll of himself in the distance, along with the old satchel and items from Charlotte's adventure through the studio, and ran over, gathering everything up and dragging the bag back over to his friend. He happily held out the plush in front of Charlotte's face and squeezed the toy, the squeak echoing off the abandoned walls. She giggled again, taking the toy back for herself; she placed it back inside the satchel and placed it over her shoulder. She stood up from the darkened floorboards, looking around the studio once more, it was just as dark and decayed as it was when she first arrived, but despite the rotten inky aroma, she felt more at home than she's had for years. Remembering the location of her father's work space, she made her way to the left, and closely admired the stains and marks along the old wooden desk that Henry spent years of his life, working on drawing frame after frame of the cartoons she grew to love. To the near right, just outside the room where the other old animators lived, was a smaller drawing table. How had she not noticed it the first time?

Bendy came up alongside her, observing the space just as she was. He remembered this too, seeing her dad hunched over his desk, muttering over the work that was slightly too much. The way he'd sneak in from under the floorboards and watch as Charlotte drew her own pictures. He always loved her drawings, he just loved her, she was his best friend; the fear of her being gone forever broke him greatly, but he didn't have to worry about that anymore.

Or so he thought.

He didn't notice it at first, Charlotte was the one to point it out, but Bendy's body suddenly became very glossy, as if he was ice melting in the sun.

"Bendy, what's happening?" she spoke, frantically reaching for his arm, the action only left her with black ink coating her palm, "What's going on? You're melting."

The Demon's reaction was delayed until he noticed his feet basically seeping into the cracks of the floorboards below. He panicked and tried to step away from the pile that grew under him, but he only fell backwards, his feet were glued to the melting pile in front of him. He began to whimper and cry once more, fearful of what was occurring.

At this point, Charlotte didn't care that she got her clothes stained, the scene in front of her was devastating, and she knelt down beside the melting character, keeping him close. Soon she realized why this was happening, and began to tear up as well.

"The Machine," she muttered out with a hiccup, "It's not running anymore, you can't live without it on."

Her first instinct was to rush off and attempt to get it working again, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave Bendy's side, they just got reunited for the first time in 11 years, and she refused to leave him alone again, even if it meant him dying in her arms.

"I wish there was something I could do. I'm so sorry, Bendy."

She hugged him tight, but not too tight, and his body was growing softer in her grasp the longer she held on. She didn't want to let him go for even a second and continued to let more tears fall. Bendy was scared, as well as sad and worried, but he was grateful. Grateful that Charlotte stayed by him, and grateful that she remembered him and still loved him. His final moments were terrifying, but he was happy that his best friend sat by his side the whole time.

You could say that his life flashed before his eyes as his being slowly melted away. He reminisced the months they spent together playing, the silly tricks they pulled on the employees of the studio, and the first time he went outside; oh, was that day glorious, the feeling of the sun and wind, the beautiful blue sky and green grass, it was as if he was truly alive that day. He also felt the despair in the later days that followed, the accident, Henry storming out of the studio never to return, the way he saw Joey grieve in anger for the next year and a half, only to become upset and depressed later on. The little Devil could feel it all, his emotions were flooded, whether they be his own, or his creator's. Although in this moment, none of it mattered anymore, Charlotte loved him all the same, even after the hell he put her through; here she was, crying over his melting figure, wishing and praying that she could save him, but there was nothing she could do now than stay by his side.

Charlotte's arms dropped to her sides as the final remnants of Bendy's inky body disappeared into the studio floors, never to be seen again. She could only let the tears from her face dry due to her hands and arms being covered in ink. She felt like one of those creatures in that moment. She wished she could melt into the floor as well and chase after her friend. She figured that's not what he would've wanted, neither Bendy, Joey, or her father. She prayed that the words they spoke reflected those from their graves, she wanted to believe that their regrets and apologies were real, encouraging her to move forward. The legacy they left behind was a rocky one, full of lies and deceit and misfortune; at the same time it brought a light to the world that inspired many, everlasting joy through art and music and wonderfully silly characters. She wanted to continue the legacy, let it thrive and grow once more, instead of letting the road burn behind her. The studio may be gone, but the future of this world has the chance to rise again, so long as the one person left was willing to allow it.

Charlotte drew a long breath, taking in the familiar ink stench of the studio once more as she fixed her father's bag across her shoulder, the items of her past all held inside. She opened the front door and the light of the sun blinded her, but the heat of the sun warmed her skin in a pleasant manner, as if the angels of her lost family were helping her move forward and continue her life in the way it was originally intended. 

"I promise to make all of you proud."