-Your P.O.V.-
I'm so tired…
How long have I been here?
When will be be free?
Everywhere I look, all that I have seen is pain pain pain.
Hell, i’m in pain
I want to get out of it.
I NEED to get out of it.
It’s funny…
I remember once upon a time in my life where suicide was an option.
Could I?
My Grunkle is gone so…
Should I?
I mean it’d be so easy, hell at this place I probably wouldn’t even have to do it myself.
Suicide by cop sort of a deal really.
My guts cut open, my body is dry and starved.
There’s no point.
So why shouldn’t I just kill myself?
No…
Death doesn’t solve anything…
Suicide doesn’t solve anything…
A bad set of mind doesn't solve anything…
I will get out of here.
I will NOT give up.
I WILL FIGHT UNTIL THE END.
I have to.
………
“Y/N” Turning your head around, your eyes met the demons ink covered own. His expression (ever since the both of you had that awkward snuggling session,) has been stiff. His smile seems a little more forced and, as you noted, his deformed shoulders are very squared, giving his slender appearance a more broad shape.
“What is it Bendy?” You asked with a cock of your head, curiosity evident in your expression. It was strange to see how his perma-grin had suddenly dropped, corners of his mouth turned upside down as he spoke.
“I may be wrong… the next task… you kill.” Despite how broken the demon’s sentence was, you understood one thing he said and you understood it perfectly.
You’d have to kill.
“Bendy I… I won't be able to kill. You saw what happened the last time I was almost killed.” Your throat was dry as you spoke, voice wavering on and off like a whirring fan.
The little devil darlin’s face was quick to turn sour, his mouth appearing as if he ate a lemon or something.
“You aren't… ink. You're… human. A kind one… not a killer… a pacifist. Don’t kill Y/N… You're better than us… Better than me.” You wanted to say something to him, but it was like something was caught in your throat. Nothing came out. Your tummy felt tight and your throat felt constricted. You remembered feeling something like this once; the warmth spreading through your abdomen as an appreciative flush filled your cheeks. It was definitely not a feeling that you felt often, but it is a feeling that you really needed.
It was relief.
Relief that somebody believed in you.
……….
The sky was a piercing blue, the sun extending across the horizon at the near cloudless scenery. Your eyes peered greedily out the window, absorbing as much of the beauty as you could. The extensive green hills traveled for miles, farms in the distance being exposed beyond deep shadows. Some farms had pens filled with cows, one even had horses! You were quick to find after moving here that things at and near your Grunkle’s house were jaw-droppingly gorgeous.
“Hey Grunkie?” Your small 11 year old voice asked in wonder. The elder man, known as your Grunkle, came over by you, pulling up and sitting down on a chair backwards just like you were, eyes gazing out the large window for a second or two until his head turned towards you. “What is it Y/N?”
“Just thinking…”
“Not about your father I hope.” Your Grunkle sighed, his precision making you jolt on the spot.
After you saw one of your Grunkles friends chop a chickens head off while driving in to his house (“I forgot you guys were visiting! Hey, want to eat dinner here tonight?”), you had been thinking about your father a lot, mainly about what he had told you in the past. About you being like him and the rest of his family, how you will someday harm others. More often than not, you’d wake up from nightmares screaming, making your Grunkle rush in to check on you right after. The poor old man has been getting crap sleep because of it, and you’d be lying if you said that you didn't feel ashamed of yourself for such poor handlement.
“Am I… Like my Dad?”
Your Grunkles smile turned soft and tender, eyes narrowing in affection.
“Do you want to hurt others?”
“No.”
“Feel happy when you see others hurt?”
“No.”
“Do you harm people on purpose?”
“... No.”
“Then you're nothing like your Dad. Just don’t purposely harm anybody, and you're good. Right? I believe in you Y/N.” Patting your head, the 80 some year old man sat up out of his chair and walked away, leaving your eyes to graze at the sight outside your window.
CZYTASZ
The Beast Made of Ink
Fanfiction(This is a Bendy x Reader fanfic) Your Great-Uncle Henry Stein passed away a little over a year ago, leaving behind all of his belongings for you, including a mysterious key to a storage facility. Finding yourself at a complete mental loss after so...
