BATIM: Memory's Twisted Lane

Chapter 3

My ears ring as I open my eyes. I wince as I sit up. I must have passed out. Probably because of the ink. Ink has a strong smell; or maybe I passed out from the lack of oxygen. I nearly drowned in ink for crying out loud. I look down. I've been lying in the center of the demonic symbol. I thought I'd fallen next to it.

I find my axe leaning against one of the coffins. Okay, now I know I can't be alone here. Someone is here with me, messing with my head.

"Hello?"

No answer.

I sigh as I pull myself to my feet, ignoring the pain in my ankle. I take my axe and continue further into the strange tunnel. I limp down a flight of stairs and see more writing. Guess what, I'm not surprised. In fact, I'm wondering why they don't just write on every wall in this place.

Anyway, the graffiti says "He will set us free," just like the sheet of paper back upstairs. I take another photo of the graffiti.

I suddenly have a question. Isn't there supposed to be some sort of elevator to this level? Like, why isn't there another way to get down here rather than surviving a fifty-foot fall through the floor?

I prepare my phone as I approach another tape recorder, labelled "Sammy Lawrence."

"He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessing upon me. The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you, my saviour. I pray you hear me.
Those old songs, yes, I will sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final, loving embrace.
But love requires sacrifice. Can I get an amen?"

"Okay," I say to myself as the recording ends, "this guys gone crazy."

"I said, 'Can I get an amen?'" Sammy's voice repeats suddenly.

I spin and look all around me. That statement isn't from the recording. It sounds like it came from right behind me.

"Hello?" I call out as I stagger all around the room. I must look like such an idiot right now. "Sammy? Where are you? What--Ow!" I grit my teeth together and collapse in the chair. My leg is screaming right now. I take a short break to at least ease the pain.

Silence follows when I stop speaking. I eventually regain composure and tread through a hallway that is flooded with ink. Halfway through the hallway, I hear a voice. I look at the far end of the hallway and see a man walking passed, holding a Bendy cutout and wearing some kind of mask. Probably a Bendy mask.

He's saying something, "Sheep, sheep, sheep, it's time for sleep. Rest your head..."

Before I can hear any more, the man disappears behind the wall. I reach the end of the hallway and I see nothing but a wall with the same demonic symbol painted onto it; the Bendy cutout is leaning against it, and the man is gone. I turn around and find a switch. Three lights wait unlit. I need to find three power switches. I look back and find the switches. Once I find them, I pull the main switch and open the gate.

As I go through the gate a hear a strange raspy gasp.

"Okay, I get it!" I shout to no one, "I'm supposed to be scared! You can stop being cryptic now!"

Once again, there's no answer.

I sigh, "God, it's dark in here."

I find another tape recorder that belongs to Sammy, "So first, Joey installs this Ink Machine over our heads. Then it begins to leak. Three times last week we couldn't even get out of our department because the ink had flooded the stairwell.
Joey's solution? An ink pump to drain it periodically. Now I have this ugly pump switch right in my office. People in and out all day.
Thanks, Joey. Just what I needed. More distractions. These stupid cartoon songs don't write themselves you know."