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

(Sammy's Path) 4 - Fall From Purity

She stared at the projector head in disbelief. It had to have been at least a day or two since she'd saved Norman, yet here he was. Dead. Her victory hadn't lasted more than a day. All that was left was his head, a thick trail of inky blood leading down the hall and into the wall near a broken down metal door. An enraged cry left her throat, long and piercing as the silence shrunk. She brought the bat down on the empty miracle station, leaving a heavy thud to resonate with her screaming. She'd come to visit after Sammy had settled down in the small town full of lost ones, only to find Henry's destructive trail again.

She fell to her knees, picking up his head and cradling it as it if were a lost child, inky tears streaming down her face like mini waterfalls. My fault, my... I never should have left his side. She chanted the words quietly, a seething rage building in the back of her mind as the chanting switched. His fault. Henry's fault. I'll kill him, I'll... Another enraged wail pierced the silence, her voice cracking with the strain. She would never forgive him. She'd kill him herself.

With blurry vision, she stared down at the decapitated projector head in her arms. The wires were still attached, subtle claw marks embedded into the side. Ink demon... The ink demon was responsible for this too? Was it defending Henry? Not fair... I'll kill them both! She followed her sudden urge, bringing his head up to her face, and leaving a gentle kiss above the lens. She was taking him with her, dead or alive. She would show Henry what he's done, and she would kill him. The bat clattered to the ground next to her, she wouldn't stop herself.

The projector was not hollow, not at all, but she couldn't find the strength to care. Natalie got up, trudging off to the ink flood at the bottom of the stairwell, willing herself to do it. Once at the bottom, she brought his severed head back up to her own, and willing herself...

Mournful and pained crying echoed through the halls, making other beings shiver in discomfort and fear. Mournful and pained wails, turning to shrieks of anger and pain the longer they continued. Angry and pained screeching went silent, deathly silent, and a new being trudged through the halls, making them recoil in fear. A fallen one wandering forth, the soft clicking of a projector filling the silence in an aura. Flicker vengeful eye, it's bright light sweeping a perimeter, and making the searchers nearby recoil into the floorboards in fear whilst the wires protruding from the back of the projector head jostled with the movement. The fallen one would protect her kind from the destructive nature of her enemies, that was her goal.

. . . .

Sammy stared at her silently, she reciprocated, her silver ring glinting in the light. All he could do was guess, and ask.

"He died, didn't he?" she nodded slowly, making him cringe as the sight of the wires, which had now connected to her body, swayed with the movement. No doubt, she blamed Henry. Maybe she was right to. He would have assumed she was mute, with no speaker to accommodate for communication, yet... "Can you speak?" she stopped to think about it, before a quiet yet noticeable hum resonated from her throat. She still had vocal cords, but no mouth. The ink had helped her morph, though it had shown little mercy. He hated to admit it, but he had already begun to miss those dealthy sharp emeralds she called her eyes. At least they weren't as creepy as the eye of the projector.

A few lost ones had gathered at the door of their little hub, staring on in awe and fear. A fallen one. They shrunk back as her light focused on them, and they quickly fled to avoid it. Even now, she still had an intimidating aura, yet she made no move to provoke them. He sighed, handing her a crumpled and yellowing piece of paper.

"Why did you do it?" she stared down at it, raising a hand and slowly writing with her finger. He waited patiently, before she retracted, and he moved closer to observe. Her writing was sloppy, messy, but readable.

So everyone can see what our enemy has done.

"Natalie..." she pulled another one closer to her, writing for a lengthy amount of time. The clock on the wall ticked in a melody with the clicking of the projector, and he shuddered. She retracted again, nodding towards the page, and he reluctantly took his chance to read it.

We need to protect our kind. Henry is bound to come through here eventually. I refuse to stand by and let him pass until he's properly paid for what he's done. Are you with me or not?

He recalled what she had told him back at the music department, after the ink demon attacked him. She's right. The sheep was quicker than lightning to leave them behind, to flee and never look back. Betrayed, abandoned, and after everything she herself had done to help him. She had tried to show both of them a better way, yet he was just as blind as the sheep until Natalie opened his eyes for him. She saved him, mended him, and showed him a better way. She did the same with Norman, the love of her life, only to have him snatched away from her again, and now look at her...

"I am with you, fallen savior." she nodded, taking a seat near the doorway and keeping watch. Watch over what? The lost ones? She did say she would protect them, they were her kind after all. She'd learned where her loyalties lie, a lioness amongst a pack of lost little cubs. A mother, a protector. The thought gave him great comfort, and he found himself drifting off at the sound of the projector head, and pages shuffling whilst the practiced her writing. A few of the lost ones had returned to watch her, their curiosity getting the best of them, occasionally peeking from the doorway to see what she was doing. Sammy found it funny, in a sense. Lost little lambs, wary as ever of the predator watching the flock, yet the lioness never laid a claw on them, instead keeping her eyes and ears peeled for any form of threat to demolish on sight.

It had been quite the journey here, and they weren't even done yet. What lay ahead remain a mystery to them, but Sammy felt safer, knowing he wouldn't be the only one protecting them. A tinge of anger presented itself as he recalled everything the wandering sheep had done, the wake of death left behind. He stepped out, giving a nod to Natalie as he made his way across the clearing, to the river of ink. He always wondered if anything lived in it, yet it remain unmoving, not even a fish stirred within the black liquid. They were safe here, for now, but how long until something came out of that tunnel? What lay on the other side? He pushed the anxiety away, deciding to sing a song to lighten the mood. The lighter side of hell, it's a shame Natalie didn't bring her violin with her, though on the other hand, he was grateful she didn't. He took a deep breath, recalling the events of the past few days. It was the most interesting than it had been in a long time, probably not for better or worse.

He closed his eyes tiredly, laying down on his back and slowly drifting off, enjoying the peace. After all, tomorrow might just be another story...