To Twist the Script

Henry had told him to close his eyes, at the foot of the throne. Close his eyes as the click of a reel began to play, keep them closed as the ink demon screamed. Everything started to burn and even though he refused to look he could see the darkness becoming a blinding white, and it hurt, but it wasn't just from the bright light. The edges of the paper he was on crinkled and he could feel his space shrinking but he couldn't tell if it was from Henry clenching the paper too tightly or if he had somehow caught on fire or...

Suddenly Bendy blinked his eyes open. Hues unlike the swaff of moldy yellow and black of everything he'd been told about greeted him. He looked up and saw a familiar set of sturdy fingers still wrapped around his page, his shoulders slumping in relief at the sight. Hands he'd barely noticed clinging to his horns dropped and he turned his gaze to the scenery, a tired smile shakily making its way across his face. Two chairs, a sketch table off to the corner, and the smooth wood of the walls gave way to a doorway at the far end. A clock spiked with the lines of the sun was off to the wall nearby, ticking away the seconds.

Huh... are we... outside..? How long was I out..? His pie cut eyes shifted to Henry, who still hadn't moved since Bendy woke up. "Henry...?" He spoke, reaching out to tug gently at the man's thumb as Henry started walking. Bendy blinked, watching as the man shambled around the room, eyes seemingly unable to take in their environment. The toon bit his lip, ruffling the cuffs of his gloves nervously as he focused more on their shared bond.

A demons pact, formed by the joining of ink and blood -- the Creator and creation, linked by the storyboard as it were. They'd progressed so far in their shared connection that Bendy should have been able to hear thoughts that weren't his own, feel emotions that weren't his own, but he heard and felt nothing but static. A sudden chill swept over him at this realization before he tugged once more on Henry's thumb. "Henry..? Henry!" Panic leached into his voice but Henry kept walking, ignorant of the little cartoon devil as he strolled into a bedroom.

It wasn't really until then, as the silence of the man's thoughts ate away at the little devil's mind, that a whistling became more apparent, more crisp. It had always been there, but now with silence and clarity came acknowledgement -- he knew this tune. Turning, he looked back towards the dark wooden door as realization struck him with his raising brows.

"Henry, I don't know where we've gone to but there's someone else here... Henry?" His voice trailed off at the end, shaky smile turning to an equally shaky frown as the old animator continued to ignore him. This was very unlike the old man, usually he would have said something by now.

Almost as if he was lured in by the old song, Henry moved, knees creaking as he made his way past the doorway that had been at the far end of the first room. Lighter grays gave way to darker grays as they entered a kitchen, a bright light coming from a... window? And...

"Henry!"

Bendy froze stick figure stiff on the page. Apprehension bubbled into horror, so sudden and scalding that he was shocked he hadn't burned into a dried up stain on the page from that man's voice.

"So soon?"

He could barely look, eyes drifting off target as they focused instead on a stiff old wheel chair and the edge of a countertop. Henry hadn't tensed, hadn't seemed to have felt any emotion at all since he walked into the room. Nothing was coming over their connection, and it only made the toons frown deepen.

Henry..? Bendy asked hesitantly through their connection, tugging at him emotionally but the worry and fear only seemed to consume the little toon as he continued to get no response; nothing but static. It wasn't even as if Henry was sleeping, or even sleep walking for that matter, there was just nothing. The silence itself was the static; despite his thoughts crying out to the human, he received nothing in response and the void between them only yawned as it grew.