Flickers of Faith (Bendy and the Ink Machine)

5- Surrounded

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." – Psalm 23:4

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The hum of ethereal nothingness enveloped her every move forward; it found its way to her skin and sank from her pores into her very body until the essence of this ghostly plane was in tempo with her heart. This music of silence made her feel sick inside out.

How long had she been walking? She couldn't tell. The whole studio had been otherworldly, certainly, but somehow this was even more so. It was a narrow but never-ending room with no doors, no windows- just the occasional splatter of ink staining the wood and seeping into its cracks. She looked upward as she kept walking, shadow fuzzing her peripheral vision. There was a pipe that ran across the center of the ceiling, and as she stared she noticed its pumping.

Pump.

Pump.

Pump.

Like a heartbeat, and she could see the liquid void swish its way over her head and behind to journey who knows where. Glimmers- she could see...flickers of golden yellow run along the ink, maybe the pipe's glass reflecting the candlelight-

The darkness at the corner of her eyes suddenly started to give her a headache, forcing her eyes to squeeze shut from the pain and her head to tilt back down, one hand coming to her temple to massage it well.

This had only stopped the woman for a brief second before she shook her head and stumbled back into step. She had to keep going towards whatever kept the ink pushing away. There was a premonition that it was a trail intended to be followed...or at least she'd make it one, hoping against hope. Her eyes steadied once again, the dusk chasing the corner of her sight seeming to pulse with her breath, which was noticeably difficult to regulate once again.

The lighting of this hall must be supernatural; even as her feet passed candles, their glow seemed to never take the darkness just behind her away. It was deeply unsettling and-

Suddenly a noise, like scurrying claws against floorboards accompanied by her gasp. Barely- just barely- a shadow teased its way from the dimness up ahead and retreated just as quickly. There was something up there. Instinctively, her left foot stepped backward on its toes, ready to pivot and run away. Almost immediately, however, it was inexplicably swallowed by corpselike cold, the bare skin that peaked from underneath the hem of her pants prickling with goosebumps.

This was all it took for her to reluctantly but surely accept that despite whatever was waiting for her ahead, she couldn't turn back.

And it felt like as soon as she took another step forward and not back, the world faded away to black as she reached its threshold; as if it was merely a blink of the universe, the dreary colors of the studio soon came back in new shapes.

The room was wide now and swamped with murk, swallowing the edges of what seemed to be chairs, tables, and posters. Instead of being endless ahead, it was endless side to side with a wall stretching in front. Despite the surprise of the sudden change of environment, it was a steadfast reflex by now to hit her righthand pants pocket for her phone to utilize its flashlight-

The slap at her thigh was as hollow in sound as her soul felt once she realized she had left it behind.

A flashlight soon wouldn't be what phone function she'd miss most.

Several meters away was a single door barely opened, a crack of light pouring in like a thin monolith, its radiance being the only thing that lit the room at all. It lined the silhouette of three beings that noticed her just as she noticed them. One head rose first above the others, glistening teeth at a mouth atop a skull ravaged with stitches; a thin rope traced from its forehead into an unblinking eye socket, and reached its way back out to wrap around its head. Then a second head moved- but this one swung instead of raised as its body did, a wrecking ball resting in front of a torso undeniably carved with the word "LIAR."

She wanted to scream but she couldn't. And as she couldn't scream, she couldn't even dream to sing as the angel had taught her before. If the projectionist seemed to be like a child's ragdoll torn apart and pieced back together by the curse of the studio, then these creatures were its voodoo.

As Francine struggled to sing- not even sure if it'd work on monsters like this- it came out in croaks. One syllable broken up into three, four, five until it could no longer be called music but whimpering. It was like Francine a scared little girl standing in front of the monsters in her closet, quietly chanting a lullaby her mother promised would drive fear away to simply no avail; the butcher gang rose from their feet and she seemed to shrink down.

The gremlin with their mouth sewn shut stared at her with intent, a shine coming over that single eye as it abruptly raised the metallic one of their three arms, ready to strike-

Another arm raised in front of it.

A soul unknown to the woman was standing in front of their brethren, back turned to them as they stared her down, unchanging even as its handless limb lowered once more. The Striker flinched back and turned their attention to the chimp-like monster that blocked them, twitching restlessly and curiously. This was a gesture of caution, certainly, but why? Indeed, as the woman stood opposed to them, she was shaking, feeble, and helpless; she had no weapon and certainly her fists alone couldn't hold back all three of them.

And yet the Piper knew to be wary of all Francine brought with her.

All three of the gang's eyes seemed to gape just above her until finally, the Fisher stepped back and led the trio's fleeing, taking mere seconds for all three to disappear as they ran to one side of the room with no end in sight.

Even as she had time to catch her breath, the bizarre, unsettling nature of this encounter still made her voice quiver. "Th-thank you," she muttered certainly too low for them to hear by now. The only thing she could consider this with the little information she had was that it was a kindness; they had allowed her entry to the next phase of this world. Francine supposed the individual with a single hand was to thank for that, having ceased...whatever the other was ready for.

It left her, however, with only more questions for when she finally confronted Bendy, the ruler of this blighted kingdom. The frustration of it rekindled the fires of determination, and so she finally picked herself up and marched sternly to the now unguarded door. Her hand came in front of her, reaching for the doorknob bathed in the glow ahead-

Francine paused precisely in place, fingers outstretched in front of the slit of light pouring in and over her. One half of her knuckles were brushed with the room's gloom and the other with the luminescence of whatever lay ahead, their color was split evenly into two like she was at the eclipse between one realm and the next standing at this door. But like before with the appearance of the butcher gang, this shadow did not stay still.

The darkness that had been huddling at the edge of her vision the whole time washed in and out like a tide, its rhythm in tandem with the shadow upon her hand now. Somewhere behind, she finally heard a drip.

Francine didn't need to turn around to comprehend that someone was watching over her now and had been since her arrival.

Yes, the Piper had learned not long ago that the woman shouldn't be trifled with.

Not when he was there.