Inked Souls - A BATIM Fanfiction

Chapter 7

The supposed sanctuary wasn't at all what Kat expected. She has assumed it would be some big room with piles and piles of sweet, tender Zaxby's chicken wings. But no, of course it just had to be a small and cramped room with a control wheel that read 'flow'. Which sucked, as Kat was very hungry.

Ink Bottle took no delay and turned the wheel, screeching with every turn. Kat wasn't sure what that did, until a barely audible groan was heard, and the duo whipped their heads around. Kat reached for the axe, but disappointingly remembered that I.B had snatched it, clinging onto it like life support. Which, in some cases, it was, especially if you could defend your life with it.

A pair of grimy and darkly purple hands matched with an inhuman head was peeking around the corner. Kat might've screamed if she wasn't so terrified and frozen in shock at what she was seeing.

Ink Bottle had a completely different reaction. It was like watching a small child pet a bunny, trying ever so hard to be careful and not scare the creature away. I.B had extended out his hand like he was training a wild beast, and, surprisingly to Kat, the inky carnage wasted no time wobbling over with its goopy bottom, making up for its lack of legs. Kat was no longer terrified, but rather intrigued. It gave her a sense of hope that I.B wasn't only insanity, but somewhere deep down there was some gentleness and sympathy.

Which is what Kat thought until she witnessed the monster that truly was Ink Bottle. In a matter of seconds, I.B's hand had crushed the soft skull of the ink, leaving the rest of it's body limp. And this time, Kat did scream.

"Leftover ink is like a stain on paper," I.B said calmly. "They can't be erased, only discarded while the artist starts anew." Kat watched in horror as she fell to her knees, slowly opening and closing her mouth while I.B collected bits of ink into a bottle he had recently chugged. It seemed like years had passed before Kat was able to recognize she wasn't breathing. I.B had finished 'collecting' and put his hand on her shoulder and laughed. "There's a rumor that the people here, those lost ones, were former employees of this dump. I try and recollect their names, but it just hasn't come to me. Never saw the true side of this studio 'till I was involved in an accident."

Kat shoved his hand away and pushed back a sob. She wasn't exactly sure why she was crying; she had no literal clue what the hell was happening. Yet the mention of these things being former people, well, that scarred her. However her fear didn't stop her from questioning I.B.

"Did you work here? Did you, know these people?" She asked, frightened. He gave a warm chuckle that sent chills down her spine.
"No, I didn't. I was very familiar with Sir Joey Drew, however. Great pal of mine, even though his age stops him from many things his creativity and imagination only expanded. I trust that man with my life."
"He died, didn't he? It was on the news, I recall," Kat said shakingly. "Pushed to his limit. Found dead at his desk. Doctors said the only possible cause was a stroke."

I.B considered this, then gave another chuckle and lifted her up back onto her feet like a gentleman. "You must not remember very well," he said eeriely. He skimmed his slim fingers over the axe blade and grinned. "So, so many people grieving for Drew and his family. The legacy of Bendy, his masterful creation, was said to be cancelled. All those ideas he had, were treated like dirt at the news of his supposed death. Kat, you see, I believe Drew is not dead. He still lives on. Bendy still lives on! Ink never fades."

"Never," Kat whispered, clutching her chest with her hands. "Ink never fades. And neither will you, right? All that ink consumed; it's part of you, isn't it?" Once again, I.B laughed and repeated the phrase.

"Ink never fades."