The glitch, and the blot. {Sorta Errink}

welcome, Ink

the skeleton looked around. he was startled, to say the least. it was like he had just woken up from a dream, but standing the right way up. 

he decided to walk, see if anybody else had woken up in this strange colorless room with him. he walked, and walked, and soon came to a mirror, or more like a reflective shard of glass, floating in mid-air. 

he looked at himself. he could see a sketch of a skeleton staring back at him. "is this me? am I him?" he wondered aloud. 

he looked at his hands, sketches. he looked at his feet, also sketches. 

the skeleton didn't like this, not one bit. he didn't know what was wrong or making him so annoyed, but he didn't like being so...blank.

he shut his sockets and wished, wished for something less drab and dull, like him.

soon be heard a noise, and he opened his sockets again. there were eight little vials of paint and one massive paintbrush sitting there, on the floor beside him. he picked up three of the vials of brightly colored paint and suddenly the words came to his mind. orange, green and red.

he thought of other words for the vials of paint and started to wonder why this 'paintbrush' of his was so big. he picked it up and it felt strangely light it his hands. he waved it around and it left a trail of black 'something' behind it. "ink" the thought out loud again.

he took one of the vials and dumped half of the paint onto the bristles of the paintbrush. the vial was just as full as it was before, and the ink had turned to green instead. he stood up and splattered the green paint onto the floor. 

he smiled to himself, but soon remembered he was still just a sketch. he wondered what would happen if he were to drink one of the vials of paint, so he did.

it felt thick and wet and gross running down his throat. he gagged but soon he felt a warm and tingly feeling all throughout his body. 

feeling light and rather jumpy he ran to the 'mirror' and looked at himself. he gasped and almost fell over, but he could not tear his gaze from the shard of glass, for he was colorful!

his mismatched eyes were shaking as he practically vibrated with joy. 

he threw up. 

slick black 'ink' lay all over the dark floor in a puddle as he thought about what had just happened.

"name" a faint voice called next to him. "name!" the tinkly voice called a little louder. 

that's right! he hasn't got a name! he thought hard and his gaze soon wandered to the black ink he had thrown up minutes ago.

"...ink?" the skeleton wondered. "ink!" he exclaimed excitedly "that shall be my name from now on!" he struck a heroic pose and laughed at his goofiness.

ink sighed and sat down, cross-legged on the floor in thought. it was cold and wasn't very comfy. he reached out for his brush and thought of somewhere comfy. he stood up and swiped his brush vertically and some sort of portal appeared.

in the middle of this portal showed a picture of a snowy landscape, with trees and cozy wooden houses. ink gawked in wonder as he stuck his had through the portal.

he found a holster for his gigantic brush and put the brush on his back. he closed his eyes and leaped through landing on the other side.

oo cliffhanger. dont hurt me :'D