Deceived (Bendy x Reader)

Chapter One

Note: This is the re-mastered version of "Love of the Wicked" (Bendy x Reader). The game-time story starts now! :'D Enjoy guys!

You shuffled uneasily in your spot. As you read over the letter in your hand again, for possibly the fifth time:

'Dear (Y\N),

It seems like a lifetime since we last seen each other. Years really slips away, don't they?

If you're back in town, come visit the old workshop. There's something I would like to show you. I think you'll like it.

Your number one dad, Sammy Lawrence'

It's been a few years since you seen your dad went up and disappeared on you, and you agreed with him, It didn't feel like that long at all. You inhaled, looking ahead to see the familiar sight of a large, wooden building. Although now, after realizing the time that had passed, it didn't really feel familiar. The remains of the old animation studio had long been deserted, likely around the same time the cartoons it created stopped being published and shown on the TV. It was quite sad, really. Nonetheless, you slowly approached the entrance, stuffing the letter deep into your brown leather jacket pocket. You stopped only a few inches step away, hand positioned over the door handle. You weren't sure if you should trust your long lost dad, but part of you was reluctant anyhow. Sighing heavily, you forced your grasp around the handle and made an effort to turn it, but the door didn't budge. ' the dam thing is probably rusted shut or locked,' you thought. Still, you tried again, this time with a little more success.

The handle turned itself easily, and the door swung itself open as if being pulled from the other side. A warm stick gust of air blew out through the entry, which was quite surprising seeing as though it was nearing the end of fall. You Ignored this fact and stepped inside, coughing as you inhaled air thick with dust. You jumped when you heard the door close behind you clicking as it locked. You shrugged it off thinking it was only just a breeze, although the air was really rather still.

"Alright, Dad, I'm here now," You yelled aloud, "Let's see if we can find what you wanted me to see."

You quietly wandered down the hall as you looked left and right at the faded posters displaying popular episodes of the cartoon lined the walls. You then entered the lobby, unsurprised to see that it really didn't show any signs of age unlike the rest of the building. The only down size was that it had been almost stripped bare of furnishings, the exception of a couple of chairs and a projector... which apparently worked. Curiously, you walked towards the projector, discovering a speaker faintly playing a tune alongside it. The projector didn't display anything; it just illuminated the wall it faced. Your attention was then soon drawn to another object, this one a lot bigger and flatter. A life-sized cutout of the studio's mascot and main character, 'Bendy,' leaned against the wall, grinning back at you. You smiled briefly back unsure if you should turn around or not, you could help feel like you were being watched.

"Arn't you a cute one," you said absently. When the cutout didn't respond, you moved onto the task of looking for what your dad was brought you back for; whatever it was he wanted you show you very badly. You could think of practically anything and it could be a possibility. Your dad was a strange man, and he was a determined one at that too. Whether he changed over the course over the year or not, you were very unsure, but you doubted it. You stared for several moments at your surroundings before descending down the hall into the depths of the studio.

The signs of decay and abandonment were evident throughout the establishment's interior; huge cracks in the walls and wooden panels were lopsided and overlapping. There came a point where one even fell from the ceiling, startling you. You considered how lucky you were that it didn't land on you injuring you in the process. Refusing to be discouraged you continued on slowly laying down the layout of the building in your mind as you went. You was actually astonished at just how much you had to remember, things ranging from storage cupboards to concept-art desks, sometimes even a name would weave its way into his mind. Henry had half expected the studio to be reorganized, but it remained largely unchanged, aside from the removal of most interior decorations and fittings. It seemed the only inconsistency was all the ink stains. You always thought a studio was to usually be kept pretty clean but as you looked around all you could see was spotted black patches of ink. Everywhere you looked had at least a drop of the dried liquid.