βŁ€€ĐΞŇg ΞŇҜ •|• €РΞŞØĐ€ ØŇ€: Ŵ€ŁĆØΜ€ ĦØΜ€

537

"Where are Music's 'Cartoons'?"

🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋

I entered the abandoned workshop with a sense of doubt and unsteadiness. The walls still displayed the old cartoons that used to be made. It had been decades since I last showed up, and the place had really fallen into disrepair since then, I looked at the letter in my hands whilst biting my lip.

Dear Kenny,

I know it’s been forever, my good friend, but I wish to ask you a small favor. These halls have grown empty and abandoned, I’m hoping for some friendly company before Joey Drew Studios airs its final cartoon. If it makes you feel any better, there is something I think you’ll want to see.

Sweet Regards, Claire.

I hummed quietly, I hadn’t been able to make it, much to my dismay, but I had been traveling a lot and I couldn’t find Claire around town once I had returned. This was the last place she could possibly be. I walked down the abandoned halls and called out, “Claire?! You here?! It’s me!! Kenny!!” the only replies were the echoes of my words bouncing off the studio walls. I walked for a while, turning right, and came across a sign nailed to a column, to the left was a small hall leading to a dead end with a door on the left wall and to the right was a larger space, with ink dripping from the ceiling and the phrase ‘Dreams Come True’ scrawled on messily, I decided to read the sign before choosing a direction,

<- Art Department

Ink Machine ->

Theatre ->

Breakroom ->

I promised myself to check the Art Department at a later time and headed to the large space to the right. At the end of the space, and to my left, was a long hallway. As I walked down it I noticed that most of the doors were shut, even locked in some cases. I froze as I noticed one had a light on inside and music could be heard, but any attempt to try and get inside, or ask if anyone was in there, proved futile. The studio seemed to lead me straight towards where Joey’s precious Ink Machine was. I had left a year before it had started running so I hadn’t seen it yet, and I could feel my curiosity bubbling as I walked down the hall, I stopped in front of a chart, made by the mechanic Thomas Connor, stating the amount of ink the machine had used. “423 gallons of ink? Christ…” I murmur, still looking at the sign as I walked down the hall to my right, tripping over a huge ink pipe on the ground, “ah crap!!” I yelled in surprise, I’m only the size of an five year old, maybe not even that, and tripping over a pipe like that really hurt!! I get up to see that the ‘Mind Your Step’ sign had caused a minor gash on my left shin, “brilliant…” I groaned, climbing over the pipe to continue down the hall.

I felt like I’d entered some form of warehouse. That would be the best way to describe what’s in front of me, huge chains leading down into a square hole in the floor. “That must be where the Ink Machine is!” I concluded, looking to my right to see a lever and some sort of battery pack next to it. Except there were no batteries. “There’s got to be some somewhere…” I thought aloud, looking to my left was a large suitcase, I walked over and lifted the lid, with some difficulty, and smirked as I saw a large battery sitting inside. Without a moment’s hesitation I grabbed it and plugged it into the pack. I decided to backtrack and see if I could find the second battery that way, and so I bid the Ink Machine farewell and hesitantly clambered over the pipe to return to the hall.

I managed to backtrack to where I had started, the large empty space known as the main foyer, from where I stood I was facing the only way I had not been, with the way to the Ink Machine behind me and to my left, the hallway leading to the exit. I headed forward and found where the old animators worked, in the little extension to the right of Henry’s old work desk. I found myself hesitating as I thought of the old animator before shaking off the feeling and entering the room. I made my way off the small patio and looked around at all the old tablets, glowing bright yellow in the dimly lit room, “weird… you’d think after the company’s fall all these would be switched off…” I hum, arriving at an old desk with a Bendy sketch on it, with the little devil seemingly falling happily. Something kept nagging me about it but I decided to leave it be, turning around to see a boarded up toilet, I looked through the boards to see the battery, “yes!!” I cheered before trying to reach it, “no!!” I whined, as I realized I was going to need something to help me reach it. “I’ll be back, evil battery, it isn’t over yet!” I threaten, turning around to head back the way I came. I suddenly freeze, my eyes glued on the Bendy sketch.

It had changed.

Bendy wasn’t falling.

He was sitting, with an almost puzzled look on his face.

I ran up to the sketch and tried to figure out what the hell happened, but to no avail. I took a step back and slowly moved backwards toward the exit, my eyes glaring at the little paper demon, almost tripping up the stairs as I made my way out. I headed back to the main foyer, looking for a thin but long plank to help me retrieve the battery. I walked near the projector and subconsciously switched it off. I hate the sounds of those things. I looked around the foyer some more before deciding on a rather light plank, but it would be difficult for me to try and maneuver it well. I shrugged and made my way back to the animator room, glaring at the Bendy sketch, which had its hands on its hips and seemed to be looking down on something. I turned around and used the plank haphazardly to try and drag and push the battery into my arm’s reach, I winced as I accidentally pushed the devil incarnate further away and it took me a good few minutes to finally snatch it from the clutches of the toilet stall. Holding the battery in the air triumphantly I quickly dashed back to the Ink Machine room, ignoring the worried- looking Bendy Sketch, and slammed it into the pack, wincing as I realized I put it in the wrong way and speedily repaired my error before pulling the leaver down with a ‘thunk’.

I jumped on the railing and felt my curiosity reach boiling point as the chains groaned and grinded to reveal the majestic machine Joey installed after I had left, the pipes extending from the bottom leading back into the dark abyss the machine had ascended from, I felt giddy and had to fight the urge to climb down there and investigate it further. I had to find Claire first anyway. I heard a roller shutter door open and raced back to see the break room door and the roller shutter door across from it had both allowed me access, I wasted no time ducking into the break room and exploring the area first. I walked down the staircase as the old memories proceeded to bombard me, asides from the Music Department this was by far my favorite place, I made my way over to the check-in machine and felt a slight pang of confusion as I saw that my punch-card had already been inserted. Being a stickler for old habits I decided to amuse whoever had done this by checking in. Being rewarded with the familiar ‘ding!’ of the machine. I walked over to a table overflowing with books, guessing it was Claire which had left it in that state, and paled as I saw the familiar black covered book, “The Illusion of Living by… Joey Drew…?” I took an involuntary step back, “that’s not right…” I muttered, deciding to leave it alone for now, I made my way to the stairwell leading to the lower floors and frown as I saw that there seemed to be some sort of groaning coming from the entrance, which itself had wooden planks and cobwebs forbidding access by anyone, I frowned and decided to explore the Art Department, knowing that there was another way down, one that I personally wouldn’t favor, but one nonetheless.

I only made it two steps down the hall before a sound caused me to jump, turning to my right I saw that the previously lit up room had become quiet and dim, I tried the doorknob and to my surprise it opened, greeting me with Sammy Lawrence’s old office. A single candle lit up the room as I looked around, noticing an abandoned record in the corner, I saw the paper on the desk read “He will set us free” and felt the same unsteadiness that I had felt numerous times since entering the workshop. The unsteadiness morphed into an urgency to leave and I happily obliged, leaving the door hanging open. I walked past the now all too familiar “Dreams Come True” message scrawled on the wall and for the first time since I first saw it, I felt a sense of uncertainty. Now, knowing my friend was most likely not in this building and with something crawling around and leaving ominous messages I decided to abandon the studio like the workers had 20 years ago. I ran to the exit, and fiddled with the doorknob, praying it would open. Nothing. Someone had locked me inside. I felt myself begin to panic further and in a state of idiocy I ran back to where the roller shutter door had opened up another path, I ran down there and screamed when a wooden plank fell in front of me. I stumbled and slowed down my walk to a crawl as I neared the harmless piece of wood. I looked to my left and felt the blood drain from my face and my heart beat speed faster than it had in years, with hesitative steps I walked toward the Operating Theatre.

Boris… The Boris the Wolf, in real life, strapped to an upright operating table of some sort with his chest open, his ribs split in half, protruding from the wound, a spanner wedged inside. Cartoonish X’s in place of his eyes revealing in a cartoonish logic that he was, indeed, dead. Ink dripped from the grate above and upon further inspection I found a pipe coming from the operating table leading back into the ground. Hellish, demonic whispers echoed from the ink. I tried to fight my nausea and looked down on the open toolbox, and felt my stomach roll over as I saw a bone inside. I looked at Boris’ lifeless corpse before shutting the toolbox, moving away and deciding to check the Art Department before attempting to find some other way out via the lower levels. I ran down the halls before slowing to a walk as I approached the Art Department door, I grabbed the knob and rotated it slowly before pushing it open.

Papers were scattered everywhere and ink wells had been thrown against the wall in fury. The symbol of angel wings encircling an upside down heart with a clock face covered all the walls, floor and ceiling. The desks themselves were trashed and cobwebs seemed to flourish. The single working light in the center of the room, flickering above a single, pristine envelope with the words “Dear Kenny” on the front, in a very familiar cursive writing. Why, it was familiar because it was Claire’s. I hurriedly walked to the centre of the room and picked the envelope up. I quickly ripped it open and read what’s inside.

Come down and see us.

We all miss you.

There was something horribly suspicious and unnerving about it, but I decided I might as well. After all I would have been heading down anyway so what if I got a formal invitation? Besides, if I didn’t know Claire personally I would have decided smashing the exit door would have been a better choice. But I did know Claire and I’m weak as all hell when it comes to brute strength. I placed the letter inside my jacket and made my way back to the Ink Machine. There was a chain hanging right next to the platform I was standing on and I hesitantly used it as a form of rope to climb down and get a closer look at the machine, more specifically the pipes coming from below it. They were pretty large, and it’d be a leap of faith to jump onto one and a roll of the dice to actually get a hold on it. But there was only one way left to go, and that was down, down into the abyss… I groaned, “I don’t want to do this anymore!” I whined trying to find another way down, whining further as I got ready to try and jump onto the closest pipe. I took a deep breath and ran towards the edge, jumping onto the closest pipe, wrapping my arms and legs around it, paling as I began to slip, the entire thing was covered in the thinnest layer of ink, it stained my shirt and began to sting the wound from tripping over that damn pipe, I took a wary look down before proceeding to shimmy my way into the darkness. I didn’t want to sightsee, in case I got distracted and lost my grip, but I couldn’t help but notice different floors going past as I went down, I saw the music department, Level K, Level Eleven… I was making slow but steady progress when I reached Level Nine, I freeze as an ink soaked hand shot through the fencing to try and grab me, a female’s psychotic scream causing me to fumble and slip, I scream in terror as I started plummeting downwards,

“I don’t want to die just yet, dammit!!!!!!”

🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋

So, yep! Here's a story! Yes, there's more parts and yes Kenny is my OC. The idea behind this is basically me grabbing a bunch of people's OCs (yes, I've already decided who's gonna be in it so no asking to be in it. (Depending how popular it gets I may throw a competition to see some little bonus characters show up in the later chapters ;) )) a wiki entry will be created where links to all the chapters as well as credit to all the people's OCs used will be.

I hope you enjoyed the First Chapter of Bleeding Ink and will stick around for the plummet into the depths of the Forgotten Levels. :)

🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋

I think we've all learned how pathetic I can be :')

Thank you for the feature!!!! :)

🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋🎙 :clapper: 🖋