My Inky Heart-(Sammy Lawrence x Female reader)

Part One

PART ONE

I sprint blindly down the dimly lit hallway, my footsteps echoing flatly. The smell of blood and stale ink fills my nose and mouth, threatening to suffocate me. Posters with "Work Hard, Work Happy" surrounds me on all sides. As I sprint under a sign with "Joey Drew Studio's" printed on an animated movie reel style background I slip and fall flat into a puddle of ink. Hastily, I scramble up and then slump back down against the closest wall that doesn't have any creepy posters of Bendy or any other of Joey's creations I had grown up with. Oh god...what am I gonna do? I think in a panic so strong I'm almost calm. I'd have known coming here was a terrible idea, and probably the worst mistake I could have possibly made. Joey wasn't that bad of a false parent, I mean he didn't have any qualms about some....questionable things I may or may not've done, let alone the fact he'd have no problems with me being a murderer, and considering some of the things I'd learnt about him and his past, I bet he'd be damn well proud of me. But the most important rule out of the few he had, the one rule I could NEVER break, I had just broken. I closed my eyes and recalled the memory of hearing those rules for the first time.

My uncle Joey was a man in his late fifties with a demeanor about him that was immediately enamoring and transfixing to me. He had a wide grin on his face and a theatrical air to him, like he was performing in front of an audience. He almost looked like the cute little devil thing that was on a picture on his wall, and his voice was proud and confident as he spoke to me. "Now (y/n), this is very important. Are you listening?" Joey had said when I had first come to stay with him.

"Yes Uncle Joey!" little six-year-old me had said standing up straighter and brushing my bangs out of my eyes.

"Good. So, since your living here for lord only knows how long because your parents decided to get themselves murdered, I need to set down some ground rules. You can date whoever the hell you want, just don't you dare get yourself pregnant. If you do, you get it aborted as soon as you find out. I'm the only one allowed to smoke inside. If you break anything of mine, you pay for it. And most importantly..." he stooped down so his eyes were level with mine. His face darkened and his voice lost the friendliness it had held only seconds before. "Don't you EVER go into the old studio, you hear? If you do... well just don't."

His thinly veiled threat had flown over my head. "Okay!" I chirped hopping up and down in excitement "So I can eat sugar whenever I want?!?"

He stood up and his cheerful demeanor and smile had returned. "You sure can. Just take it if you don't have enough money or get some gullible sap to buy it for you. You can get anyone to get what you want if you know how. Just pretend to be innocent and sweet if someone gets suspicious. And remember, try to act inspiring. You know? Like drop the word 'dreaming' every ten words."

"Like steal it? Or manipulate someone? I don't think mommy or daddy would be very happy if I did that..."

"Yeah, well they're dead, and I have different rules than them. Now scram. I've got stuff to do. Go play or do whatever kids your age do."

"Yaaay!" I shouted over my shoulder as I scampered off "Goodbye Uncle Joey!!!"

I stood up and shook my head. "I need to get out of here." I said, burying my sentimentality and turning toward the direction I came from. After a few steps I feel my shoe slosh into another puddle of ink. That wasn't here a few minutes ago... I think worriedly as I look up the hallway. There are a lot of splatters on the floor I hadn't noticed earlier. I turn around uneasily to a cardboard cutout of Bendy peeking around the corner of the hallway I just walked out of. As soon as I notice it, it zips back around the corner.

After a few more instances of being startled by cutouts moving on their own, I begin to get this really creepy vibe. Sure, the cutouts were little adrenaline jumpscares but I couldn't feel any malicious intention behind them, just a sense of mischief. But this... this is foreboding and ominous. And when I look up and around me, the walls are darker. Like living shadows are crawling on them.

I whip around and begin speed-walking back toward the exit, skirting around the puddles on the floor, and I'm suddenly aware of footsteps behind me, getting ever louder. I stop walking, thinking that they are my imagination or that maybe they're just echoes. The footsteps speed up almost instantly to a heavy limping sprint. I move faster than I ever thought I can and sprint toward the now visible exit, but to my horror, the lower path to it is now covered by at least two feet of ink. The steps are getting louder and I decide to take a peek behind me. I have a small heart attack when I see what's chasing me. I'm being chased by something like a 7-foot-tall demonic Bendy with fangs and ink over his eyes. Oh my god. No. This can't be that... Thing Dot told me about in those "stories" of the old days. I realize this probably isn't the time for realization and I panic even harder. It's gonna kill me! I realize that the only way to get to the door through the ink is to wade through it. I take a running leap into it and try to wade as fast as I can. I'm almost at the exit, my outstretched hand inches from the handle, but then...

CRACK

With a sickening crack, the floor gives out underneath me and I feel myself falling....