Wonders of Heresy (Bendy and the Ink Machine)

2- But Not Too Familiar

Author's Note: The art for this chapter is by Startistdoodles on Tumblr.

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"'God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant in the earth, and to keep you alive by a great deliverance.'" - Genesis 45:7

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There's a certain sensation one gets when they move into a new apartment, house, or even hotel room. It's something that can only be described as both refreshing and anxiety-inducing, the culmination of change that often represents a larger step in a life's great journey.

It was just like that except nothing like that.

Sammy's left hand gripped the respective knee as he absorbed the stimuli of this place, finally able to think of something besides the woman that sat next to him upon the bed he led them to. He didn't know what it meant for something to be "homey," but that was this.

It had nearly everything she had requested: water, a place to lay down, even some food cans and pieces of clothing littered here and there. It looked lived in; he hoped that wasn't a fact. He wasn't sure if he could- or would- fight another of his inky brethren to keep this place for her. But it was all that she needed, so he walked her all the way here.

He didn't really take the time to consider doing otherwise in his panicked decision to stop whatever was going on before.

Sammy craned his neck and felt fingers from both hands duck under his mask to caress the high points of his cheeks. He didn't want to think about that again just yet; he had just spent who knows how long stewing that image round and round. The stress that accompanied its return was too much to revisit so soon.

The truth was that despite all the time he spent dragging his corpse along the stained floors, he didn't remember seeing this room before. There was very good reason for that; this was arguably the most feared, dangerous level in the whole studio.

"I'M ALICE ANGEL!"

Sammy decided it was for certain the most feared, dangerous level in the whole studio.

So why here then? Again, it had everything she wanted. He had just enough awareness of her humanity to accept that she couldn't reside permanently in the kingdom Bendy permitted him to maintain, to use so Sammy may properly show his great reverence for his lord. No matter how deeply he wished to stay there forever, even before the woman arrived it had been necessary to make rounds about the halls for some reason or another.

As he released a sigh, the musician felt yearning for his instruments, having never voluntarily left them for quite this long. Maybe he'd bring in his favorite banjo next time-

There were two distinct troubles that pinched at him with this idea. The previous sight of his most prized possession damaged and still laying upon the ground was one; it wasn't the worst, considering he recalled being able to reattach the tuning bits before. It was much more terrible to realize that without debate, he had presumed he'd be staying with the woman in this room.

Even in his escape from concepts of trepidation, others had appeared to take their place.

And on queue came yet another.

Sammy both felt and heard his voice's uncontrolled reply, a scream that came out as a soft whisper. His knuckles clenched until his fingers totally curled as if trying to poke holes through the material of his pants.

As they sat side by side on the gurney, she had finally fallen asleep for the first time since they met. The candles couldn't allow the sight of her dull head on his glistening hide to be concealed.

His shoulders raised heavily a handful of times, but not with the weight of his companion. He didn't know what to do and couldn't decide how he felt about this; it was such a foreign concept for him to be this close to someone else let alone be touched. Somehow it was different from when they touched out of necessity. Now that it was a contact without obligation, he was entirely lost, unable to find a proper response. It didn't come to him that maybe this was a fear born from an entire lifetime without human tenderness, without someone equal to him that would have such trust as to dictate he guard their unconscious body.

After swimming through leagues of thoughts with no words, Sammy gradually shifted his head towards the pressure against his right side. With the horror and alarm of her arrival retreating just for a moment like the moon tugs away the waves, he was overcome by the details of mortality she carried with her. Skin was now pulled over her eyes, light-colored wisps pointing outward from the bottom that caught in the glow of the candles. He didn't have eyelashes- no one did- and so it struck him with intensity.

As he stared at her face, he saw streaks, smudges, and dots all over; it made him realize being ink was very different than being surrounded by ink. Sammy noticed some of the dots were...brown? Brown wasn't an uncommon sight here, but finding it smeared onto a surface was entirely unheard of.

Unknowing she walked in with those marks, he had to shove aside the urge to wipe them off her jaw. The terror of him being the one to initiate touch had been fast instilled in that past moment where he tried to comfort her in the company of his instruments. Even though it was followed by an understanding that it was disgust over his actions, he couldn't not believe that his very existence didn't sicken her as well. Not even her choice back then to grasp his hand had erased this conviction.

And so he resigned himself, painstakingly slow in his leaning onto the wall behind them as to not disturb her, still encased by the many haunting questions that soaked through the wood and saturated their home.

Maybe it was entirely by accident, but she had finally filled the gap between them.