Confession ~ Projectionist!Norman x Ink!Sammy

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My lord... he betrayed me... he abandoned me. What did I do wrong? What could I have possibly done wrong? Why would he ever try to kill me? The prophet thought as he wandered through the dark corridor, unintentionally following the sheep that kept on killing the souls that were merged with the ink. Why would my lord try to kill his loyal prophet? Why would he-?

He noticed the little sheep coming out of a passageway only a few meters ahead of him, so he quickly hid in a dark corner to avoid getting seen, and watched the man passing by. The prophet was actually glad he couldn't breath for once, so he could not attract notice. It would have been less than appealing for him after the failed sacrifice. This man had an axe again, and the prophet was sure he would use it against him if he had the chance.

He just didn't understand why his lord would ever reject one of his offering. Did I not pray enough? Am I simply not worth to be freed? Does my lord even care about me, his prophet? Is he only an animalistic creature with the urge to kill?  These questions made him feel so much bitterness and anger. He had started worshipping the ink demon, hoping to finally be free from his prison. This inky dark abyss he had called a body for such a long time. For how long had he even been like this? He didn't know, could never possibly answer this question.

Something told him it hadn't always been like that, that he had been different once. Human, not a creature made of ink, not a terrifying monster. He remembered the first time he had encountered a human being which had screamed in fear and called him a monster. He had just wanted help, but the anger he had felt about being called a monster lead him to kill it. It only proved that he really was a monster, why act as if he wasn't?

Something inside of him had always felt like worshipping a cartoon character was just ridiculous, something an insane person would do. He wasn't insane, was he? He couldn't be, insane people would never question their sanity.

It was weird, but he was sure he had felt certain feelings towards someone, feelings that had never disappeared, but as far as he could tell he had never actually told the person he loved them, and now it was too late. The prophet really wanted to find out who that person had been, if they were still here and what they had become. He couldn't remember much about them, only that he had seen this person very often and them being quiet and hiding in dark places, but he hoped they had gotten out in time. They didn't deserve to be trapped in here, too.

When he was sure the sheep was gone, he walked out of the corner and headed towards the stairs. He didn't really know where he should go now, but he would figure out what might be a good place to stay in. That was when the prophet realized he could neither return to the music department where Bendy would definitely find him and not spare his life this time nor to the Lost Ones hideout. He had always told them to pray to the ink demon, that he was his prophet and that Bendy was going to save them all. This would either leave them with no hope due to their savior not caring about them or make them hate the prophet who was not who he told them he was after all. He just wouldn't be worthy in their eyes anymore.

He hadn't even realized he had gone downstairs and was standing right in front of the elevator until the Boris clone inside of it let out a terrified whimper, covering his eyes with his gloved hands. The clone really didn't like his presence, did he? Was the prophet that terrifying?

"You don't mind me coming inside and traveling to another level, do you?" the prophet asked, but of course the clone didn't reply, so he just shrugged and stepped into the elevator. 

As soon as he was in there the doors closed and a furious female voice echoed through a speaker somewhere hidden above his head, "Who do you think you are, you filthy creature, that I would allow you to use MY elevator?" It started shaking violently, making him almost fall.

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