My Inky Heart-(Sammy Lawrence x Female reader)

Part Eight

PART EIGHT

I run to the opposite side of the wing. Sammy, Sammy, WHERE ARE YOU!! "Sammy?!" C'mon... where the hell is he?! Can't stop moving away from Henry... must keep going! NO!!! GO BACK! "N-no!" I yell, again ramming myself into a wall to try to stop the voice of the ink in my mind. Just call him... "SAMUEL LAWRENCE WHERE ARE YOU?!?!"

"Yes? Whatever is the matter, little sheep?" He says, stepping around the corner in front of me. "Why are you crying wolf?"

Think fast. "I just wanted to spend some time with the only friend I'm gonna have for the rest of my brief, probably inky life."

"Well then, what would you like to do?" he says in a flattered, yet also a "you're wasting my time" tone of voice.

"Can we explore the north wing of my 'new home'?" I say sweetly. "I heard I'm going to be staying here for a while."

"Of course, the best alter I made is over there. You're going to love it, my little sheep." Then he grabs my arm and we walk off.

After walking for around 200 feet I finally speak up. "So... since you're not gonna be sacrificing me, can you maybe call me by my name instead of 'Sheep' maybe?"

"Right right right. My apologies. What is your name?" He says, but he doesn't look at me and just keeps walking.

"Its (y/n) Drew."

"Of course. You are his niece. Pardon me, I forgot. Although I refuse to say that cursed man's name in polite conversation." he growls, "But I will try to call you (y/n)." he says in a much friendlier voice.

"Great...!" I say. So. That's two major matters cleared up. Henry's probably safe now, and my captor/new insane neighbor calls me by my actual name now. And the both of the puppets are working together, salvation is near!

"So sh- I mean (y/n), what is... I must apologize in advance for the fact I am not the best at small talk."

"Eh. I'm rubbish at it too. Whatcha wanna ask me?"

"Since a young age, I was always very musical, I was head of the music department, you know. Not to mention I won multiple awards for my music writing skills."

"Okay...?"

"But anyways, what is your favorite song?" He says.

Jesus Christ. He really is garbage at small talk. "Oh, mine it was the one I sang a while ago, you know, the one right before you tried to kill me and decided to maybe spare me? It's called-"

I suddenly shriek as I see the part of the hallway we're about to walk through is flooded with 6-8 inches of ink. "N-NO!!! I'M NOT WALKING THROUGH THAT!!!" I yell, jumping backward in horror.

"It won't hurt you (y/n)."

"Y-YES IT WILL!!!"

Sammy sighs and almost audibly rolls his eyes. Then... I suddenly have the urge to walk into the ink. The merciful embrace of the ink... I want it...I need it...

Then, with the same black haze I felt earlier, I stop panicking and calmly walk out into the black sticky surface, much to Sammy's surprise.

My shoes sink into the ink, making grotesque noises as I keep walking out. "You know, Samuel, this isn't so terrible after all...." I say slowly and grinning at him. Then I snap out of the trance. "Wait n-n-no! Sammy get it away from me!!!"

He groans and proceeds to pick me up and carry me across the puddle of ink. This is so humiliating... I think grumpily, but also with a hint of triumphant glee that I don't have to walk.