My Little Devil Darling

Projected Memories

Charlotte stood before the metal doors once more as she returned the axe to the Angel.

"Can you let me go now?" Charlotte groaned. Alice's voice spat rage at the young woman's comment.

"You'll be done when I say so! Do you understand?" The girl flinched at the Angel's cry and slowly nodded. "Good, now your next task will take you deep down into the abyss. You will have to collect a few hearts; feel free to say hello to an old friend for me."

The compartment opened and revealed a Tommy gun; it was in good shape too.

"Take good care of it," Alice mentioned as Charlotte picked up the gun, "It belonged to someone very special."

Someone special? Interesting. Silence rang from the speakers, and Charlotte walked back to the elevator. Boris tilted his head at the new weapon the girl held. She pressed the button to Level 14, now that it seemed to be working, and it jolted to a start as they rode down deeper into the studio.

The first thing Charlotte got hit with was the sudden strong smell of ink, stronger than it has ever been throughout the entirety of the studio she's travelled. She plugged her nose with her free hand as she lowered the Tommy gun beside her; Boris was not phased by the scent, being made of ink himself and all, but showed fear in his eyes as the elevator stopped. Can Bendy get down here? Charlotte wondered. The abyss, as Alice called it, was empty, or at least sounded empty, besides the echoing sound of the old floorboards as Charlotte exited the elevator. In front of her was a dead body of a Butcher Gang member, its hand holding a heart. To her surprise, this wasn't the weirdest thing the young woman had seen; she walked over to the body and took the heart from its hand.

"Screeeeech!" Charlotte just about jumped out of her skin as the ear-piercing scream echoed from the dark abyss.

"What in the world is that?" the young woman questioned, placing the juicy heart into her messenger bag. She looked back to Boris, his hands over his eyes, cowering in fear. You poor thing. Charlotte sighed. I'm sure it's best if he stayed here. The girl gave one last glance at the wolf and continued forward across the wooden path, hoping more hearts were nearby. She did not expect what appeared in front of her next; Charlotte stood in awe as she leaned over the wooden railing overtop of a huge flooded room of ink.

"Shh," Alice's voice rang from the speakers, "There he is, the Projectionist, skulking in the darkness. You make sure to stay out of his light if you don't want trouble."

The young woman wondered what the Angel was talking about until a flickering light emerged from the darkness of the abyss, and she stood back from the railing as the strange inky figure showed itself. Its body was human-like, same as Alice, only there was a projector in place of its head, lighting the path ahead of it. Who was that? Charlotte thought as the Projectionist entered back into the maze. She went onward, hoping to find the rest of the hearts before there was any chance of her getting caught.

The Projectionist wandered through the endless maze, his array of lights shining throughout the halls, revealing what he had always lived for. Until the day he drowned, living forever within the ink. His past life was hazy in his mind - if he even still had one - and now and then he would sit in one of the chairs, staring at the cartoons that played from the projectors. He had witnessed the monsters form, not physically, but mentally, as each studio employee had slowly lost their mind. The Projectionist never remembered any names, but he remembered faces and actions; he had always been a lurker, but he remembered a girl. A child who came by every day, and she would always bring a smile to everyone's faces; she seemed to make people calm from their insane boss, almost like it was magic. He never understood it, but he could sometimes see her shadow within the abyss, casting along the walls in front of him, until they disappeared with the flicker of his light. He had been alone down here for many years until he heard the sound of an elevator, something he never knew existed until now. He emerged from the darkness, and he looked up to see a girl. Who is that? He thought as he treaded through the sea of ink, back into his maze.

Charlotte stared into the endless pool of ink that lay in front of her. The scent was even stronger down here, but she reluctantly stepped in, the ink reaching halfway up her calves. It was thicker then what she had been through before; it was practically impossible for her to run in this lake, it made Charlotte nervous. What if it finds me? She panicked. It can probably run faster than I can, I don't want to die down here. The young woman looked ahead; there was no light shining, meaning it was probably safe, and Charlotte waded through the ink and away from the safe stairs. There wasn't much down here, a few random objects were thrown about: crates, chairs and ink flowing down from the ceiling above. Although the girl discovered something else, it was a tape recorder.

"I wonder who this if from," Charlotte said aloud as she pressed play on the recording.

Now I'm not lookin' for trouble. It's just the nature of us projectionists to seek out the dark places.
You see, I've learned the ins and outs of this here studio. I know how to avoid being bothered by the likes of this...company.
That projectionist, they always say, creeping around, he's just looking for trouble. Well trouble or not, I sees everything. They don't even know when I'm watchin'.
Even when I'm right behind 'em.

This voice was familiar; she had heard a recording from him before, but there was something else. He sees everything? Doesn't know when he's watching? Charlotte continued to try and stick pieces together. Her mind wandered to a memory that she remembered before back with Sammy when she would always go down and take piano lessons with him. There was...always someone there, someone other than Sammy. Charlotte could see a shadow of a man in her memory; they were standing, leaning on the ledge of the projection booth. She had never met him directly, but she always knew he was there. I always knew you were watching, Norman.

"Wait," Charlotte looked ahead towards the maze, "That's him!" A scream echoed from the distance with the splashing of ink following after. "...crap."

The Projectionist was indeed very fast through the lake of ink, and his bright light blinded the girl in no time at all. She stumbled back, covering her eyes with her arm as she fell backwards into the ink. He stopped in front of her ink-covered body as she tried to get back up, then he grabbed her arm and pulled her out, holding her to his level, blinding her more in the process. The soft sound of his film reels filled the silence of the abyss, the girl struggling to escape his tight grasp.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, and he returned the favour with a scream of his own.

The girl kicked the Projectionist in the chest, and he had to drop her. The radio in his chest crackled from the impact, and he screamed again.

"I know who you are!" Charlotte exclaimed, finally able to stand up again, and she stood back from the Projectionist, "Or at least...who you were."

She didn't completely understand what she was doing; she was in too much of a panic to think of trying to run away. "You might not know me, but I'm not going to hurt you. I'm looking for some hearts, can you help me?"

The reels in the Projectionist's head ran faster, making a sound like a growling cat.

"Please," Charlotte begged, "I want to leave this studio. I'm trying to remember who I am."

The young woman took another step back, but he didn't move until his light beamed right back into her face. She shielded her eyes again, frustrated. "What are you doing?"

The Projectionist stayed still, facing forward, shining his light at the girl. He wasn't trying to annoy her; he was looking for something familiar, the shadow. Though taller than what he remembered, it was the same shadow, and he tilted his head.

"Norman!" Her voice rang him out of his trance. That had to be his name; he never remembered his name after being drowned so many years ago. He dimmed his light and held his inky arm out, an invitation for the girl to take it.

Charlotte stared at him in awe, "You want to help me?" He didn't make any new noise; he still had his arm out. She gave a small smirk,

"I'll take that as a yes."