The Beast Made of Ink

Chapter 73: The Stress

-Your P.O.V.-

The room you just entered... It was absolutely huge. In fact, one could say that it was cavernous, if that's even a word. The walls were nothing but worn jagged rock, a few pieces of inky wood boards placed here and there as some half-assed attempt at either walling or structural support. Either way, it almost reminded you of an old abandoned mine, yet it was WAY creepier.

Walking onto the wooden platform, just a few steps in, you were quick to realize that the platform was actually built IN to the rock. In other words, besides the knowingly ancient structural supports underneath the bridge, there was nothing else keeping the bridge up-right.

Distracted by your realization, you stumbled over a piece of warped wood, the result of it making you fall backwards as your body collided with a nearby wooden crate. Quickly shooting your head around, you watched in pure horror as the crate tumbled off of the platform, diving head first into the terrifying abyss below.

You waited a bit for noise, but there was no sound of the crate making contact to the ground-floor. Nervously, you farted.

After a minute or so of gathering yourself back together, you had managed to get back up onto your feet, your hip screaming in utter protest at your movements. You ignored your body's warnings, after all, you needed to rescue Boris. So, shaking off the pain as best as you could, you rushed yourself over towards more solid ground. Luckily, the platform wasn't too far of a walk, for before you knew it, you found yourself on a slight cliff which had SOLID wooden flooring placed over it. You couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the safety in which you felt was given to you.

Now feeling stable, you examined the rest of the room.

Pipes running rivers of black ink stuck out of the jagged walling like sore thumbs, the terrifying substance traveling into the abyss below in unstable spurts. Large industrial-sized chains were hung like mistletoe above the groundless floor, some bearing cages at the end of them while others hanged freely, all only promising menacing kisses. A Bendy cut-out was haphazardly placed between some rock to your left, and in front of you was what appeared to be some sort of zip-line which had a cart connected to it. There was probably a name for the contraption in front of you, but it's not like you're exactly an engineer or mechanic, so fuck it. On the other side of the zip-line was more solid wooden flooring, and ahead of it, a fully ajar door. Behind you was a chest that was partially buried under some dirt, and beside the chest was another odd looking machine. You feel like you've seen it (or something like it) before, but you couldn't be sure. Finally, to the right of you was an archway, which exposed a ton of open locker/safe-like cabinets.

Before going through the archway, you had first decided to look around a little more. Approaching the zip-line, you quickly found yourself in front of what must've been the control panel. With your eyes lighting up like Christmas stars, you were quick to grasp the lever and yank it, only to be filled with disappointment.

"I swear to god, if this things broken..." You began to mumble under your breath, and sure enough, you found yourself staring at the side of the machine where a large gear was clearly meant to be placed.

Examining the side of the machine further, you soon found something odd. Bending down further, you found yourself putting your finger into some thicker ink. It almost reminded you of those thick ink things you had to collect for Alice from the 'swollen ones'. Last you checked, finding that sort of ink was pretty hard, so why would this be here?

Sitting up, you wandered over to the chest. Opening it (after some struggle with the latch), you found nothing of use. So, with that out of the way, you turned yourself over to the familiar looking machine beside it. It kinda looked like a cross between an Alice contraption and a vending machine. The thing had two slots on the front of it: one that appeared to be meant for placing something in, while the other seemed to be for stuff to come out of. To the right of it was a lever, and to the left was a dial. Tapping the dial which showed a picture of a mug, you watched in fascination as the picture turned from a mug into a gear. Remembering how the gun in which Alice had given you turned from a solid object back into ink, something inside your head instantly clicked.