Chapter 0 - BatIM Fanfic

Second Level

I groaned, blinking open my eyes and forcing myself to stand up. Where was I? I looked around. Was I... ON A PENTAGRAM?? I instantly screamed and hopped off. I wanted nothing to do with worshiping the devil. I briskly grabbed the cans, ignored the coffins everywhere, and set off. I wanted to get back home... But now... I didn't know where I was. I found the Music Department. What an odd place? I noticed the name at the bottom, "Sammy Lawrence," and something deep inside of me told me that I should remember his name well.

"Fun times," I mutter, as I had decided to camp out in another closet. I sipped at a can of Bacon Soup. "I better find my way outta here." I yawned after saying this. I supposed that I would have to get used to the horrid taste of the soup. Hopefully, I realized, it would supply my water needs. I didn't feel thirsty...

****

I heard muttering. Human muttering. I opened the closet to a crack, and saw the slim body of a man in overalls. I couldn't make out who he was. Or, at least, I assumed that it was a he. The man was a little hunched, covering a black liquid, probably ink I proposed, and was carrying around things from here and there. Sometimes a Bendy cardboard cutout, sometimes cans of bacon soup, and sometimes a dusty pan. I heard him mention "Searchers," but I didn't know what he meant by this. He made the "Searchers" sound like they were beings, and so I assumed that they were. For a long while I had watched the small occurrences of this man as he came back and forth with different things in his hands.

Day 3 at Joey Drew Studios... I marked it on the wall. I heard voices. It sounded like it was on a speaker? Immediately, I opened the door. I heard the speaker echo from somewhere else. It was the man's voice! But... It sounded terrifying... Like he was plotting on murdering someone.

"Sheep sheep sheep," his voice cooed, "It's time for sleep." I shivered. I did NOT want to sleep anytime soon, now. "In the morning... You may wake. Or in the morning..." He cooed, pausing to inhale. Then, his voice sparked after he chuckled in a wheeze. Continuing, "You'll be dead."

I stood there, rooted in place, straining to hear what was happening. Suddenly, I heard something... Crawling in the vents... It left soon enough. Then, I heard the screams of another man. It couldn't have been the man that had cooed this message, it was completely different. It was a little higher-pitched, maybe? Either way, it was echoing across the walls. I started subconsciously sobbing, slamming the closet door shut and pushing myself into a similar hiding spot like I had before when I was hiding from Mr. Drew. My tears stopped after the man was done screaming.

The speakers played again. "Good, Bendy, my lord... Remember me..." I gasped. BENDY? What!? Was this man... Insane? Were the rumors... True? Were there actually really living cartoons?! Why would this man be sacrificing someone, by the sounds of it, for a stupid cartoon! Was he the man that had been writing on the walls and setting up the pentagrams? He must be stupid!

"W-Who...? Who on this bloody Earth would really...?" I accidentally muttered aloud. I covered my mouth. I don't think he heard me. He must be too far off. I was proven wrong, however. What I knew was the next day according to my watch and calender, Day 4, I heard the man...

Honestly, I had gotten used to his voice. Except this time... I heard his murmered voice. Getting closer to me... I started panicking when I heard it. I gathered about five cans without thinking, and braced for him to enter. To be perfectly clear with you... I was so pissed with this man, I swear, I was about to knock him square in the face!

The door opened. POP! My fist met with his face. His smiling, toothy, bendy-like... Wait a second. Was he seriously wearing a stupid Bendy mask! This made me even more mad. After I had punched his face, I think I might have knocked some sense into him. He leaped backward, as if not expecting this result. Feeling adrenalin and a fearful combo, I raced off, grabbing more cans with me. I had around 12, by now. As I was sprinting off I heard him trying to catch up with me. HA, I laughed. I heard his voice shout, "Who are you!? Get back here!!" I think... I only think... I might have knocked out the teeth on his Bendy mask. After I glanced at him I snickered loudly so that he might hear me. He definitely heard me! HA, I laughed again. I spotted a Miracle Worker ahead of me. Without thinking, I threw open its door, threw in the cans and then myself, then slamming the door shut and holding it; right before the man came to an abrupt halt. I could tell he was scowling behind his mask.

"Who... Who ARE you, really?" His voice questioned. "I don't think Joey ever hired a girl in his team... Did he...?" He took a moment, standing there, watching me. "No. I'm afraid he did not. And you look especially young," he mused aloud. He stared. I could feel it. "So...... Who ARE you? And you have the GALL to... To... To live here... In the house of my lord...?"

I didn't take this crazy man seriously. I retorted, "Look, this was fun and all, but I didn't exactly have a choice. Do you bloody know the way out or not??"

He laughed. He laughed... In my face... He REALLY wanted to be punched again, didn't he? I growled to him, "Don't make me come out and sock you again, you piece of $#%&."

The man laughed again. Except this time it was short. He responded in a sly voice, "You? Punch me...?" I nodded. "Come out, then," he insisted. "Come out and do it again." He shook his head and Tsk, tsk, tsked me. All the more reason to punch him. "Just as I thought. Stay there, then! Just make sure to stay out of the way of my sacrifices... Or else..." He told me, trailing off. His face came just inches to mine. He whispered, "You'll be dead." After minutes and minutes and what felt like forever him staring at me, he exhaled a chilly breath. He turned away, his inky feet trudging along and leaving smeared footprints that disappeared without a trace moments afterward.

How am I going to get out of here now?