The Beast Made of Ink

Chapter 17: The Opening

-Your P.O.V.-

After finding and flipping the two needed switches, you were able to open the gate. Upon opening, you found yourself in yet another hallway. Ahead of you was a boarded up entryway. With a sigh, you walked over to the said entrance and raised your axe over your head, landing a heavy blow onto the boards as they fell back to the ground with a sickening thud. Finally, you were in an ACTUAL room, compared to all the hallways and whatnot that you have been forced to travel through this entire adventure at least.

You found and unsteady sigh escape your lips as you entered the dark place, eyes attempting to examine your scenery but were having difficulties in doing so. What you could however see was another old cassette tape. With a begrudging sigh, you walked up to the tape and listened to it. It was the voice of the same man as before, and he was talking about a familiar name this time around.

That bastard Joey Drew. So far. It seems like a lot of the tapes only have bad to talk about when it comes to him.

The tape pretty much consisted of the guy bitching about Joey and his pipe installment. For a guy that made cartoon music, he sure as fuck took his job seriously.

With a sigh and a shake of your head, you began to glance around the room yet again.

"I need to turn the power on..." You thought to yourself as you begin to investigate.

Soon you came upon 2 staircases, one going up and the other going down. Deciding to take the upper staircase, you found yourself in a small room. Inside it was an old projector facing out into dark nothingness along with yet another cassette. Not seeing any use for either of the things right now (As you want to turn on the power, not listen to a recording), you walked out the room and down to the opposing staircase. When you reached the said area, you immediately found your gaze on a lever.

"Yes!" You hissed in excitement as you yanked down on the thing, making power turn on throughout the building.

Satisfied, you began walking out and down the hallway. That is till a noise stopped you. You shot your head back, coming face to face with a pile of gurgling wet ink.

"What the-"

Slowly, you approached it, and as you were only a few inches from touching it, you found an inky arm clasp its way around your wrist, eliciting a loud scream from your mouth.

Without thinking, you took your axe and chopped the things arm off, making the thing groan in pain. Immediately, you found yourself backing away, horrified at what you just did.

That thing... That being... It groaned. It feels.

All time seemed to stop as you had found yourself having a flashback.

.........

"I'm so sorry, please stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, but to no avail, your father continued.

Dark bruises were now littered across your delicate skin, and scars upon scars were across your legs from all the times he chucked his empty bottles at you. Your back ached from him slamming your frail body into the wall mere seconds before, and your nose screamed in agony as it bent itself in directions you didn't even know possible.

Despite your screams of protests, your father was too drunk to care as he continued to land the tip of his leather shoed toe repeatedly into your abdomen until you found yourself spurting out blood.