(1) Ink Distortion (BATIM/EPICMICKEY)

21- The Demon and the Detective

Bendy and Dale walked in silence. Dale, even with his back straight, and head high, glanced around uncomfortably.

Bendy, however, found himself looking all over, twisting his body, trying to look at the different things as long as he could. Wasteland was a wreck.

The world around them was seemingly covered in black, sticky ink. It was messily splattered everywhere.

Bendy averted his gaze from body-like figures on the ground. Alice had been feeding off of them. Taking their thick ink, their life source, and selfishly using it to keep herself alive, strong, maybe even beautiful.

Wasteland's appearance only decreased, as Dale and Bendy found themselves in the suburban part of the city.

The Demon and the Head Detective breathed a sigh of relief, as survivors, and civilians emerged from their barricaded homes.

The residents of Wasteland ran towards the two toons, their faces contorted in anger.

"How could you let his happen?!"

"Half of us are dead!!"

"Dale, you're a disgrace, a shame to Wasteland!"

"You both left us when we needed you!!"

Ink began to nervously slide down Bendy's forehead, and the Wasteland Residents noticed immediately. Some were fearful, and stepped back, while others were furious, turning aggressive.

"You, you're one of THEM!?"

A particularly pissed toon grabbed Bendy by his bow tie, hoisting him into the air. Dale, quickly reacted by shoving the two toons away from each other, knocking them both down in the process.

Dale pulled Bendy up by his forearm, and began dragging him, pushing the rioting toons out of their way.

Bendy, a little disoriented, recognized the little blue house, with white flowers, now battered, and broken. The all-too-familiar thick ink decorating them in hasty droplets.

Oswald's house.

• • •

"Who- Who are you?"

The tall, lean figure leaned on the corner wall, studying Mickey and his friends.

Mickey scrambled to get up.

"Who are you?!" Mickey repeated, his voice stronger than he felt. He recognized the creature. It was a toon. His name was... oh gosh, what was his name?

The wolf stayed silent, and seemed amused by Mickey's bewilderment.

"Say something!" Mickey demanded.

They stood uncomfortably, staring at each other.

The panicked buzzing in Mickey's stomach slowly faded, and he allowed himself to relax a bit. He remembered the folder in the Archives. The wolf, Bendy's old friend. Who was it? Who was it?

It... it was the Wolf. Boris the Wolf! Boris!!

"Are you Boris?"

Boris's ears perked up at the spoken sound of his own name. Something he felt he hadn't heard in years.

The wolf nodded enthusiastically, and began to approach the mouse.

Mickey reflexively found himself jerking backwards, and Boris slowed his approached, with his hands out in front of him, reassuring Mickey that he wasn't one of the monsters.

Mickey nodded in understanding. Boris extended his paw gently, and Mickey shook it.

It was a painfully silent greeting.

Boris, with no warning, suddenly picked up Gus, and motioned for Mickey to do the same with Jiminy. Mickey, still quite frazzled, gingerly picked up his insect friend, never breaking eye contact with the wolf.

Their feet pitter-pattered on the ground, it being the only sound they heard. Boris led Mickey through hallways decorated with old posters. After gawking at them all, Mickey finally saw their final destination.

It was a door, which Boris, with some effort, managed to shove open. The sound of it was so abrupt against the silence that it hurt Mickey's ears. He was sure the whole studio heard it.

The room they entered was hot, and stuffy, but unlike the rest of the studio, it was alive.

No, not alive.

It was lived in. It was furnished, and lights were on. The sheets in the bed messily folded over on another. It seemed like a home. Comfortable living? Probably not, but at least it didn't smell like mildew.

Boris carefully tilted Gus's unconscious body back onto the bed, and then stretched out his gloved hand for Jiminy, and Mickey hesitantly complied.

Boris and Mickey stood back, studying the two sleeping toons on the bed.

"What do we do now?" Mickey asked softly, as if Gus and Jiminy truly were merely sleeping, instead of injured and unconscious.

Boris jerked his head to an uncanny Bendy-themed clock, ticking its life away on the wall.

"Now we wait, huh?" Mickey let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Boris pointed at the stove, which has a huge, gumbo pot on it. If Mickey wasn't mentally preoccupied, he would've made a Princess and the Frog joke.

"You want the pot?"

Boris shook his head, and his hand, beckoning Mickey to take another guess.

"We should make soup for Gus and Jiminy when they wake up."

Boris paused, and then nodded, before his head fell back into a vigorous, 'no!'

"Want me to clean it for you?"

"Do you want soup?"

"Are you asking me if I want soup?"

Boris, who was on the verge of choking Mickey, made a silent groaning motion, before nodding his head.

"Oh, haha! Why didn't ya just say so?" Mickey chuckled, and Boris slapped his face.

"Oh. Wait. Boris, can you...talk? At all?" Mickey's mouse ears pressed up against his head in embarrassment. How could he have completely glossed over Boris's silence?

Boris shook his head, displaying an emotion that Mickey couldn't quite place.

"Is-Is it a sensitive topic?"

Boris shrugged his shoulders. Mickey decided the subject was best left untouched.

The wolf and mouse stood awkwardly, looking for a recovery to the uncomfortableness.

"Well, Boris, are we making soup or not?"

((Quick Authors Note: I'll be revising some of my earlier chapters, so it's less cringey, and makes a little more sense. I don't know if you guys get revise notifications, but I'm telling you all so you aren't annoyed by rapid updates, (It'd also be cool if you checked them out). Thanks! -Max))