~Dramaturgy~ [Batim AU Project]

Chapter 9:Escape

I woke up in a cold sweat. It wasn't until I went to stand that I realized I was tied to a chair. I struggled against the bonds with little avail. I tried to scream. I was gagged as well. I continued to struggle until I heard a voice from behind me.

"Not trying to escape, are we?" The voice sent chills throughout me. Joey stood before me, smacking the axe repeatedly into his free hand. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could at least make out my surroundings. There was a candle, no, five of them, all spread out in a circle around me. Under my feet, there it sat. a circle with various shapes in it. A pentagram. My eyes widen. No...

Joey ripped off the gag and knelt to meet my glare. "Well, it looks like our little devil darling's trying to go against his creator. Let's fix that, shall we?" I snapped at him. "You're no creator of mine. Doesn't matter if you created me or not." Joey simply stood and flashed a menacing smile. A chill flooded the room. Joey's grin vanished. "You'll be staying here tonight. We'll see if you're ready to obey tomorrow." Joey turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. The candles extinguished. It was cold. I'll never obey you again. I'm not gonna make the same mistakes.

Closing time; 1 year earlier...

Wally Franks stood before me, looking nervous. "Just know, Alan, I-I'm not 'supposed to be tellin' folks this; Joey told me to keep it secret." I nodded. It must've been for good reasons, but I've just got to know! "The ink machine was supposed to be one that molded life-sized figures of the cartoon characters, you see? But, the ink... Oh no. That ink's always whisperin', I swear! An old friend of mine is long gone. He went missin'. But, you see, I know! I know that the ink took him! I can still hear the whisperin' , I can still hear him. Good Ol' Thomas. He may have gotten cross at me a few times, but we was still good friends. Sammy Lawrence, too! But Sammy's changed. The ink, it's coming. And when it does, I'm outta here!" And with that, Wally left.

Not much of an explanation, but good insight, nonetheless.

Present...

I looked around once more. This place looked unfamiliar to me, yet, I knew exactly where I was. The boards on the walls were old. Ink splattered the walls and pooled a bit from a leak in the ceiling. Large boxes, no, caskets were grouped along a wall. Three of them, to be exact. There was whispering all around. The air here was thick. The only sounds were of my heavy breathing, the creaking of the boards, and the whispering. That annoying whispering! Get out of my head! Get out! I thrashed in my seat, clawing at the ropes around my wrist. After minutes of desperate deliberation, my wrists were free, and I could untie my waist.

I stretched my legs. The throbbing pain in my head only now had begun to become prominent. Luckily, Joey left the axe. I chopped at the boards covering the other door and pressed on to see if I could find another way out of there.

Did they seriously have to board up every single door? I sighed and kept chopping. Looking left and right, I saw ink splattering the walls and leaking from the ceiling. There was little ventilation, and the fumes from the ink had little way to escape the underground studio. I had to get out of there, and fast. On the walls were posters of the old cartoons. "Bendy in: Rosemary's Babysitter!" "Bendy in: Showbiz Bendy! With Alice Angel and Boris the Wolf! "Bendy and Boris go to: Hell In a Hand Basket!" looking at those posters made me wonder why they ever shut down the animations, besides from what Wally told me. I miss the guy. He got fired shortly after Henry's retirement. He was always trying to get people around the studio to smile and to laugh.

After wandering around for a while, I stopped to rest. It felt like hours since I had last eaten, much less got some rest. I sat on an old barrel. Surveying my surroundings, a sign on the wall caught my attention. "Lift" I perked up. Maybe that's my ticket out of here!

(word count: 741)

Also, Thank you to those whom have read this far! This was the main thing I wanted this account to be known for, but my art book got more attention. Ah, how things change. Please let me know if the writing feels forced or a plot point doesn't make sense! I do want to work to improve my writing. Love ya!- Milkquake