It was a pretty average day for me, Layla, your typical schoolgirl. Sitting at my computer, doing homework - that's how it went. But after a few moments when I had started my Maths tasks, I felt something appear at my window. Turned my head around to notice a portal - a real portal staring at me! And the more I looked the better I understood two things: how pathetic my magic was against this and how familiar the landscape inside of it was. An old, dark wooden corridor was staring at me. I didn't feel too well at the presence of it, but something in my brain told me: "Go! You know the place!" Not really caring much - it was the last day of school - I stepped into the portal and felt it zoom me to the place to where it had summoned me.
Unfortunately, there was a side effect: the force of the spell was so strong it exhausted my own powers and left me on edge. No, I wasn't dying, I just got really tired, but the curiosity was stronger. I took a few steps along the corridor towards the main room, but that's where my body collapsed in fatigue...
***
“Uh... miss, are ya okay? Need any help?”
Slowly coming to, I heard a familiar husky voice. When my vision cleared up, I saw a man in a blue uniform, a lot taller than me, but... not that handsome. But instead of beauty, his grey eyes were beaming with trust and determination, and his platinum hair tied up into a ponytail, under a tri-cornered hat, seemed like a part of me, like that person could be my new friend. A sailor outside, he sure seemed a justice seeker inside and a good leader to boot. But that lisp on "Miss" tipped me off: something in my brain clicked, as if I had seen that guy before.
“D-do ah know ya?” - I looked up: indeed I did, I just needed a positive response.
“ ... no? Neither do I, for the record.”
I looked down:
“Technically ah have two names: mah real one is Lada Andreeva, and the other, which ah prefer to be called, is Layla Nightingale.”
“Cool! I have just one, though”, - I didn't expect such a reaction from him, a man of honour he was, - “It's Captain Alexander Smollett, officer of the British Royal Navy at your service, ma'am”, - he reached his hand out to me, which I reluctantly accepted.
“Well, uh, nice ta meetcha, captain?” - I looked up again, shyly.
“Ya, too. How did ya get here anyway?”
“Well, ah just entered that portal-”
“Ya sure are gonna get blisters that way”, - Captain noticed my bare feet.
“Uh, yeah... dun really like shoes at home...”
“Sorry about that interruption, really could've gotten some spare ones for ya... Wait, ya said: at home? So they get these at home, too?” - with these words he reached a letter out of his coat's pocket and gave it to me. It read:
"Dear Henry,
It seems like a lifetime since we worked on cartoons together. 30 years really slips away, doesn't it?
If you're back in town, come visit the old workshop. There's something I need to show you.
Your best pal,
Joey Drew"
“First of all, I am not Henry”, - Captain started, analyzing the whole situation, - “Second, who the hell is this Joey Drew to send letters to completely unfamiliar people???”
The letter gave me the answers my new friend didn't know, but there was a thing that explained all of that - for me, at least.
“Look, Captain”, - I explained, - “the main idea of this letter is that this guy wants us - or ya, ah dunno, - to come here for something important. And ah think ah know what that is.”
Smollett gave me his own kind of disapproving look and began inspecting me, as if he suspected me in a crime. I didn't understand why, but went on:
“Does "Bendy and the Ink Machine" tell ya anythin'?”
“OH HECK NO!” - my words drove him crazy, - “I was teleported here, God knows why, and there is a suspicious girl telling me she knows exactly what the teleporter needed! Are ya his minion or what?!”
“What? No! Never was!” - I stood my ground. I knew Captain had anger issues, so I held it like a champ.
“Whoa, geez... sorry...” - Smollett cooled down a bit. - “My honesty's getting at me again...” - he whispered to himself guiltily.
“Oh, it's nothin' ”, - I started walking around the room. Just a regular old workshop: a wooden table at the center, torches and gears on the walls, though everything was more about the titular Bendy Demon: cutouts, posters and possible fanart at the furthest corner.
“This situation is trickier than ever”, - I heard Captain say to himself, as he joined me in the exploration, - “Only Billy Bones may know how to get us outta here...”
“WHAT???” - I froze in my tracks. Billy Bones? SERIOUSLY?!
“Oh God, are ya okay?!” - he definitely was not ready for that, was he?
“A-alright...” - I whispered, slowly coming back to reality, - “let me put it like this: how does it feel to have been shot by countless machine-gun volleys?”
“Whoa there... let's chill for a moment”, - I was glad he understood it as a metaphor (which it was). We sat down on the nearby chairs, and he resumed: “So, what's wrong with me asking Billy for help? Is there some kind of problem ya have with him? It's just: he is my friend, and I'm not sure how to react.”
“Ya know what ah was talkin' about, did ya?”
“Yeah, both of us are loud and?” - our eyes met, - “Are ya scared or what?”
“More than that: it's a phobia! His sneezin' is hell!”
“Oh, don't worry, I'll fend ya every time he 'splodes, 'kay? He sure does have a problem...”
“But how do ya even know each other?”
“Voice-actor buddies?”
I was stunned.
“Well, like, when a person voices two different characters and they slowly become friends?” - Smollett tried to explain that to me and when he finally saw some understanding in my eyes, continued, - “It all happened like this... say, why don't we take a walk through this "medieval" place already?”
“OK, sure.”
And this was when I could hear his story:
“Well, as ya may know, it was the year of 1986 (!) when the whole "Treasure Island" Soviet version filming routine started. We first met after the initial scenes for him had been dubbed. By that time each one of our crew were alone in their separate rooms, so that there would be no spoilers for the characters in real life. And like, I sometimes talked with others, thus earning the nickname of "The Silent Parrot". Ya may know what that might have meant, right, Layla?”
I nodded.
“So, it was one of those days, when I had a friendly chess match with Jim (Hawkins, the one I was supposed to hate throughout the entire film), when I met him. But not immediately, though. Right after the match, I went off into my own little world”, - he seemed to have been gone to it now, too, - “Aww, qué guay! All those times when I thought off the partes preciosas de "La Guerra y El Paz"; lo había leido en mis clases en la escuela por los guardiamarinas, mmmm...” - he looked up dreamily and sighed, - Good times...”
I tapped him on the shoulder for a moment: “That must have been awesome, but what happened next?”
“Oh well, so I was there, in my little world, and quite obviously did not notice where I was going, - thus, I crashed into somebody. When we stood up, I saw he looked almost like me (to the point I thought he was an imposter), but a lot more dragged out and somewhat sickly. I apologized, but before I could say anything else, I heard a sneeze. And, boy, was it loud!” - I fell down at that statement, - “Lay, I didn't mean that...” - I immediately came back to reality.
“And so? Did ya kind of get to know each other?”
“Ya know what my first question to him was? "Ya have allergies?" To which he responded rather dryly: "I have a cat." It was much later that I understood that he had a bad cold in the head. We went on chatting with each other and that was when I learnt that we shared a doblador. Silly, right? We even had suspiciously similar voices. It went on even after his death: we read books together, played with his cat (also a phantasma) and slowly, he moved in with me. No es el amor, sino que la amistad”, - he responded to my snickering from behind, - “And so far, him and me have been good friends with our VA as well”-
And this was when it happened. A thud was heard: a hard one, as if a wardrobe had crashed through the floor (which was possible, judging by the age of it). I totally froze.
“Don't worry, Lay, our mystery is goin' to unfold right now”, - came the response.
After a few moments another thud was heard, this time followed by a teleportation zap. Something purple was seen in the distance, and when we came closer, we saw a light purple ghost, that resembled a man in worn-out, but, nevertheless, average-looking uniform and an almost identical face to Captain Smollett, if it wasn't for his darker skin tone, eyepatch and a pinkish inflamed nose, which looked like it could break off his face at any minute.
But that was all I could see before fear consumed me: I just stood there trembling like a leaf. Seeing me in such a state, Captain interfered:
“Bud, ya see we've got a girl panickin' here?”
“Uh, hey there...”
The ghost, trying to seem friendly, reached out to me, but I flinched. I would never want to speak with anyone with a nasal voice and a constant threat to blow anything up with it.
“Billy...”
“What?” - I heard Captain's friend ask, - “Is all that really because of me?”
“Yes, bud. Seriously, leave Layla alone for now. She'll be fine as long as you don't interfere - for now, I mean.”
“Well, ya know, what I got?” - Billy reached out exactly the same letter that Captain had on hand. There was a big "WHAT?" on Smollett's side.
“The heck are we gonna do now??? I don't even know the game and ya handle me the letter like frickin' experts!”
“C-calm down, Captain”, - I spoke up, - “let's just try and find the Ink Machine.”
“The Ink Machine?!” - both the men exclaimed, although with Smollett it was more on the VERY perplexed side, while Billy seemed to be more curious how I knew about it.
“...Sure, let's go”, - the latter chimed, - “By the way, they serve excellent bacon soup here.”
“This is more about where ya can find it”, - I retorted, - “And ah'm not speakin' of the quality.”
“Well, ya know what they say: better a small fish than an empty dish.”
We went through the halls, filled with different posters to, apparently, the shorts made about Bendy and gears, gears all around. Billy even managed to feed me one of the bacon soup cans... ugh, not that I liked it much.
“...and I had already turned it on, it's just that it needs some fixin' to do”, - he finished telling us the story of what we were supposed to see: the Ink Machine. Just in time for us to reach the break room, where it was located.
Needless to say, The Machine was real huge. I've heard plenty of ninth-to-eleventh-graders say that such machines were built in the Industrialization era... when was it again? 1930s-1940s? Weird terms... but they sure did not apply to this old, metal, elephant-like abomination of a machine. I mean, I didn't understand it for two reasons: 1) it was too creepy and 2) I am dumb at Physics, like, completely.
“So, any hypothesis on why this is here?” - I asked Captain, as the least experienced in the game member of our so-called clique.
“As if I know”, - then he paused, observing all the buttons, stretches and tubes in the construction, - “Uhh... that's quite obvious what this is for: pumping ink for, um, movies… etcétera?” He was still observing the Machine, when he noticed the "LOW POWER" written on a nearby switch, - “Great. And why did ya lead us here exactly?”
Just then I felt a weird sensation all over me and Billy apparently turning on every light in the room, when he sneezed again.
“Aww God, I wanted to see 'em in real life”, - he whined.
“See what?” - Captain asked, irritated by this whole ordeal.
“The six things needed to activate this machine”, - Billy replied huskily, - “Sad I can't show them to ya...”
“Ya could just list-” - I heard another sneeze, - “Eep!”
“Gesundheit”, - Captain answered.
“Thanks, Xander... Ok, now fer another try...”
Billy turned on his hologram magic, only this time he put out half the lights. Shortly after we could see all the items required on the pedestals at the center of the room: a book, a CD, a Bendy plushie (it was so adorable I wanted to hug it only to realize it was a hologram), a wrench, an ink jar and... a gear?
“But what are these for?” - I asked.
“Listen”, - Billy turned on an audio log somewhere above the room. It was from someone known as Wally Franks, the inventor of said machine:
"At this point I don't get what Joey's plan is for this company. The animations sure aren't being finished on time anymore. And I certainly don't see why we need this machine. It's noisy, it's messy. And who needs this much ink anyway?
Also, get this, Joey had each one of us donate something from our work station. We put them on these little pedestals in the break room. To help appease the Gods, Joey says: Keep things going.
I think he's lost his mind, but, hey, he writes the checks.
But I tell you what, if one more of these pipes burst, I'm outta here!"
“Quite an unusual sender we have here, vaya”, - Captain mused, looking at the letter, “It's almost like we can't understand, para que sirven estos objetos, eh? ¿En serio?»
“Xan, calm down, I'm sure why we would need all those o-tshyow!”
“Jesus!” - I froze again.
“Guys! I can't concentrate!” - Captain stared for a bit at the pedestals, where the holograms should have been, - “Ok, let's go. We'll see what these things are for later.”
It was quite obvious why we would need a wrench - for fixing the Machine. Billy showed us the way through the longest corridor and that was when we saw that... THAT could not be described as something alive, more like a wolf's corpse... A CRUDELY MURDERED WOLF's CORPSE!
“Check this out!” - I pointed at the body I had just seen.
“Geez, it's not like they'd do that in a cartoon studio”, - Smollett proclaimed, while quietly inspecting the corpse.
“Any suggestions on who could've done it?” - I asked Billy.
“No idea.” - This was when we heard a yelp from behind the body, but it was more triumphant than astonished: "Found it!"
There was an unscrewing noise, when we finally saw Captain coming back with a wrench:
“Crude, but: 1) He's dead and not buried; 2) He's... apparently an old body and 3) Someone did that for an apparent ritual and it is them who's supposed to be held responsible.”
“Jesus, wow... Ah never thought they'd do that...”
“But well, they did. Es lo que hay.”- with these words Smollett hung the wrench on his belt, right next to one of his cutlasses. There was definitely more to be discovered, ah could sense it...
Next, we went to the theater (as Billy called it). Honestly, I don't really like theaters: most plays end up with deaths of the main characters, though it can get compensated by some ballets... this didn't change the overall situation as there was nothing, but a Bendy idle animation playing...
“Guys, what exactly are we doin' here?” - I asked, only to get the response:
“How about ya stop whining and help us get out of this place already?” - from Billy himself.
There was no choice for me, but to sit down and sulk... when I noticed something very cute on the seat next to me:
“Aww, a plushie!”
If you'd only known how much I love plushies: used to sleep with a teddy until I was eight (still cherish that guy a lot), mourned the loss of a plush dog at four, horse at ten... aww... - then ya'd quickly imagine me sittin' with this toy on my lap, - so sweet! The guys soon noticed it, too:
“Wait, Xan, it is that exact toy!”
“Billy, let playin' babies play...” - Smollett replied calmly, only to look at the toy and go "aww...", - “it really is adorable!”
I felt Captain hug me with the toy in my hands... we could've been like that for eternity, if only Billy hadn't called us for “lunch”, while waving a certain book above him. It was "The Illusion of Living" by Joey Drew himself! Dude, WHAT?! That was the one we needed!
“How did ya do that?!” - we immediately came to our senses.
“Easy, just went and grabbed it like a pirate should.”
This... was definitely the most unexpected response, especially since it got even more boring with each object found because of them being clearly visible: the CD, presumably for playing some prayer (later revealed to be a simple jazz melody), was found in a small office next to the theater; a gear was found in the room dedicated to the Ink Machine (how familiar)... and the ink... ugh, do I even need to describe the «Animation Department» (if ya can call a simple desk that)?
Time was getting slower and slower with every passing minute and it was only when we reached the Ink Machine that it became a bit more lively, like we were in an occult class of sorts... Now that's what Captain called "medieval".
«Ok, now what?» - I asked after having installed all the ritual objects on their respective pedestals.
«Gonna turn on the Machine and... and...» - but before Billy could say anything, he dove into such a bad fit, it made Smollett himself shudder:
«Gesundheit, bud... I better turn it on myself», - he faced me, - «right?»
«Go ahead. PULL DA LEVAH, CRONK!»
Captain facepalmed: "... Seriously? Ok, we go."
Billy came to right after the Machine was turned on:
«I was just gonna say: "go home of sorts..."»
«Go home? GO HOME?!» - How could he not know the basics? I wasn't going to spoil anything, but something bad was surely bound to happen after the machine was turned on. I just knew it, mon! But it was very soon discovered when we saw a purely MAJESTIC jumpscare from - ya guessed it - Bendy himself! A black demonic sludge stared at us through the planks as I prompted the others:
«And now: RUN FOR YER LIFE!»
«Seriously, Billy?» - Smollett asked his ghost-friend as we were desperately trying to find the exit, - «All the search and machinery for, literally, nothing?? What the hell is going on???»
«Ya'll see, Xan, ya'll see. It's just the beginning...»
«And above all», - I added, - «fear the Machine...»
«But why??? WHY, BILLY, WHY???» - screamed Captain, getting trampled in the growing ink pool,- «This is just way too we-YIKES!»
That was it: we had fallen through a hole in the floor into a strange room filled with coffins. It was dim and cold. Surely fitting after what we could've experienced were Bendy to catch us. Oof…
«I think it's time you guys give me a proper explanation to all this weirdness.» - Smollett finally managed to calm down after all the running and pondering... and I managed to remember a certain song by a fan of the game, that perfectly explained everything: "Build up our Machine" by DAGames!
Billy and I went on singing the entire thing displaying a slide show of what happened. We were summoned there to make sure Joey Drew's plan to spite the cartoon characters went through. They were not happy about that. Never. And now they were out for revenge. Nothing would stop them that night.
The feedback, though, was not very reassuring:
«Ok, fine, that's more or less understandable, but do ya even know what cyanide is? It's a poison, mind ya!»
«And, apparently», - Billy retaliated, - «Bendy is surely trying to poison us and our memories with his own inky ideology: remember the book?»
«Heck yeah! But, would ya ever think it would lead up to this?» - Captain waved his hand around the room: as empty and weird as it was, there was one more thing we needed to do:
«Grab that axe, Captain!» - I said, when I noticed it.
«Why? Are we gonna fight this guy?»
«No», - Billy explained, - «it's more about self-defense», - he heard me snapping boards like paper, - «and handiness, when ya need it. Careful with that axe, Layla!»
«Here we go, here we go, findin' hidden secrets», - I sang cheerfully while working that supertool's power out, - «axin' everythin' up, thanks to the Ink Machine!»
«Now the next question is», - Smollett chimed in, - «what are we bound to do now?» - He stopped, seeming to not have much to add, only to notice a completely different room, with a pentagram on the floor, - «Whoa... anybody know what that could mean?»
Instead of an answer, we heard a familiarly loud explosion of a sneeze and the lights went off...
«Great, we're out of lights. How convenient, isn't it?»