This Inky Hell (A Multipath BatIM Fanfiction) [Completed]

(Sammy's Path) 3 - Savior

The searchers here didn't seem to be bothered by their presence, only laying dormant in their little puddles around the floor. She'd never seen this part of the studio before, yet Sammy seemed to know the entire place like the back of his hand, so she only followed. Occasionally they'd run into one of those butcher gang entities, though they weren't much of a match for an axe or a bat. What floor are we on again? They were doing resource runs, and evading the angel in the meanwhile. An eerie ambience in the wall had caught her attention, she felt like something very malicious and threatening was walking the halls close by, yet it never showed itself.

"Sam?" he hummed quizzically in front of her, turning his head back in acknowledgement. "Are there others like us?" he slowed to a stop at a doorway, taking a moment to phrase his answer.

"Yes, there are, though they aren't nearly as... Social." she nodded respectfully, and he continued forward, leaving her to her thoughts. If there were others like them... Her thoughts returned to the searcher with the nice hat. She had managed to communicate with him, would she see him again? She shook her head, though her thoughts were interrupted by Sammy grabbing a hold of her arm.

The eerie ambience in the walls thickened, and she found herself getting roughly shoved into a miracle station, the door quietly clicking shut behind them. While she made no move to speak, a small squeak was released when she felt Sammy press her further into the back, doing his best to make two people fit in the small closet like space. He quickly hushed her at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, accompanied by heavy breathing. Henry, but he was running from something. A moment later, uneven inky footsteps slished after him, almost as if the creature chasing him was limping.

They waited in silence, and her eyes locked to Sammy's mask questioningly as the duo quickly retreated. He breathed a sigh of relief, retracting his hand from her shoulder and stepping out of the station with his axe, checking the surroundings.

"I'm guessing that was the ink demon you mentioned?" he nodded quietly, sending a casual glance down at the ground. Inky footsteps were quickly fading into the floor, erasing all trace of existence that the chase had even come through here. While Natalie never asked, she did take a guess that the ink demon was what attacked Sammy when he tried to sacrifice Henry. She made haste to continue, shuddering at the thought of being a next victim...

. . . .

"Why are we here exactly?" Level 14. It was dark, and the amount of ink flooding the floor reminded her just what she herself was made of. It was hard to remember that, she didn't feel inky. But everytime her arms caught in her vision, she didn't have to look twice to recall. Sammy shrugged, looking out at the creature sitting dormant in front of the labyrinth of mazes. She squinted to follow his gaze, but it wasn't hard to miss it. It was dead, it lay in the ink unmoving. Making her way down to investigate, it was Sammy who played an audio recording nearby, making her jump at Norman's voice.

Another rant from Norman, but would that make... No. She quickened her pace, kneeling down in front of the lifeless body of the projectionist. It had a projector for a head, inky stains coating the object and wires coming from the back, while a film reel jutted from its shoulder. She slipped a hand under it, heaving it onto its back, and a garbled yet quiet scree came from the speaker on its chest. It wasn't dead! The light of the projector flicked dimly, focused on her face as it reached a hand up defensively, weakly.

She gently grabbed its hand, squeezing it reassuringly. It was alive, it would live to see another day. Henry did this. There's no other explanation. A glint of metal caught her eye in the darkness, and her eyes latched to it immediately. A ring, silver with small bits of gold embroidered in it. Norman.

"No... No, no no, not again..." the projectionist wheezed quietly, and she began searching for the fatal wound on its body, pulling out a roll of bandages she'd taken with her before they left. Henry did this. That bastard... I should have killed him when I had the chance! Sammy had come over to investigate, lending a hand as she found a series of bullet wounds along his abdomen. She made quick work, an overwhelming sense of dread accompanying her sudden need to comfort him. She panted quietly, her eyes watering as she did her best to keep him awake. "Stay... Stay with me Norman."

Norman's light blinked once, and she felt him grab her hand, hoisting it up to examine the ring on her own finger. A gentle static cracked from his speaker, and he lowered it back down, writhing weakly as she continued mending his wounds. Sammy grumbled half-heartedly, his words full of hatred.

"The angel gave him a gun..." give someone power and their true intentions are revealed. Inky tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away just as soon as she was done with the wound, a shaky breath leaving her throat. That monster, why did she ever agree to help him? A soft click came from Norman's speaker, and she turned her attention back to him intently. He was staring right at her. Her lip quivered, and she leaned in, pressing her forehead to his chest to avoid being seen in such a weak state. She wasn't going to let him die, she couldn't lose him, not again.

Sammy had begun humming a quiet tune, doing his best to ease the pain of both creatures in front of him. Norman's hand slid around her back, and she felt him play with her hair soothingly. Natalie herself felt her last defense drop, and small sniffles erupted from her shaking form, sharing her warmth with the fatally wounded projectionist.

. . . .

She cracked an eye open. She'd cried herself to sleep on level 14, but now she was being carried by someone. She didn't recognize the surroundings, but she felt oddly warm, and snuggled closer into whoever was carrying her. A soft static echoed through her ears, muffled, as it if were underwater. Static, and she felt herself get nudged gently, making her grumble. She subconsciously wrapped her arms around whatever, mumbling softly. Something poked her face, and she sighed sleepily, reluctantly opening her eyes, and instantly regretting it.

A bright light was trained directly on her face, and she instantly squinted her eyes shut, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes. Something poked her face again, making her whine discontentedly, and Sammy chuckled next to her.

"Wake up, sleepy sheep." a hefty sigh left her mouth, and she gathered strength to remove herself from the comfortable arms of... Now she refused to let go. A small cry of joy left her lips, and she wrapped her arms around Norman tightly, making him scree in confusion. He lives to fight another day. She saved him. For once, she actually succeeded. Sammy hummed in thought, shuffling around, and it wasn't until she actually took a look around did the question make itself known.

"Where are we now?" her surroundings looked much like a library, bookshelves and tables scattered at random around the room. They obviously must have been much further down, though Sammy didn't answer her question. They must be getting close to this refuge he mentioned. She watched him turn a radio on, soft and slow music filling the gaps of the room generously, and Norman grabbed her hand, carefully twirling her around with a staticky chuckle.

A smile graced her features, and she was quick to maintain the continuity of the dance, making Sammy beam from behind his mask across the room. They were safe here, they could relax. She rested her head on Norman's good shoulder, continuing to sway to the song while Sammy grabbed a book, sitting down to read.

The atmosphere here felt lighter, and for once, she felt like she could breath.