Chapter Text
Today, the Music Department was colorful. In sharp contrast to the typical atmosphere, the wing of the building was decorated for Halloween. It was the one holiday that the musicians, who were typically very serious about their work, were able to get behind. Klara had spent an embarrassing amount of time cutting out pumpkins on colorful paper and posting them around, but she thought it looked festive.
Every morning when Sammy walked in, Klara enjoyed watching him duck beneath the door frame. This department just wasn’t tall enough for him. That day, he walked in with Jack on his heels, talking about something or other, and when he ducked, he was surprised to feel a hanging ghost hit him in the forehead. Honestly, Klara hadn’t done it on purpose, but she couldn’t help but laugh.
“What the hell is this?”
He reached up and grabbed the thing as it spun, studying it.
“What, you need glasses, or did it hit you that hard?” Jack let out a strange laugh and made his way to the front desk. He was a strange man, but in a much different way. A bowler hat always hid his black curly hair from view, and he always insisted on striking up a conversation with her.
“Hey, I see you’ve been doing some decorating.”
“It wasn’t me,” Klara smirked, “I believe it was some sort of ghoul that snuck in during the night. I found it like this.”
“Just like you do every year,” Sammy sighed as he joined them. “It was Bendy, right?”
“Hey, maybe,” Jack shrugged, “I bet he was looking for you, Sam. Must’ve been really disappointed to see that you were out for the night.”
“It’s a miracle I was with all the work I have,” Sammy smirked as he lit a cigarette. “I’m lucky if I get 5 hours of sleep these days.”
Klara shook her head. “Would you like me to have a word with Mr. Drew?”
“Yeah,” Jack laughed, “stick Klara on him! Do that one glare you’ve got, and he’ll be crying in no time!”
“I’m alright,” Sammy nodded. “It’s time to wake up.”
“Hm?”
“It’s time to wake up, Klara.”
When she woke up, Klara was met with pie cut eyes. A second later, she’d instinctively elbowed the grinning face, and now Sammy, the Sammy he was now, was sprawled out on the ground as she frantically sat up.
“Sorry!” she panicked as she stood up and rushed over to him.
“It’s alright,” he mumbled, a bit dazed. He sat up and fixed his crooked mask before turning to her. “I’m sorry to wake you, but the ceremony is ready. We’re all waiting for you to join us, Klara.”
What?
Sammy stood, towering over her, and clasped his hands together. “The initiation is always so exciting. You have nothing to worry about, everyone will love you.”
Klara sighed. “Sammy, I’m sorry, but I’m not doing this cryptic nonsense anymore. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but if I don’t get a clear answer out of you, I’m not going anywhere. What are you getting me into?”
Silence lingered in the air for a moment before Sammy found his words. “I understand you are… frustrated. I’ve seen it many times. But I can’t tell you anything until the ceremony. The entire purpose of it is to make you one of us, and once you are, then I can begin to answer your questions. Do you understand? I don’t want to mislead you, Klara. I just ask that you take the proper steps to learn. Alright?”
A war raged within Klara’s mind. This elusive act he was pulling was really pissing her off. He’d never have done this before. She was his secretary, her job was to be the person he told everything to! Klara knew everything about him. How he liked his coffee, what time he came in every morning, his jacket, his car, his brand of cigarettes! She knew what newspaper he read, and how he secretly enjoyed the comic strips, even though he pretended not to. She knew he kept a Bendy plush in his office even though he hated the character. She even knew that sometimes he’d laugh to himself when he thought no one could hear him, but she heard. Sammy may have forgotten, but she hadn’t. Even now, even here, she was his secretary.
At the same time, though… There was a gentleness with which he spoke, almost a sweetness, that she couldn’t resist. He had gone through all the trouble of housing her, having a meal delivered to her, waking her, and now here he was, inviting her to join him in whatever he was up to these days. He said he would answer her questions if she'd just do this, whatever this was. How could she resist him after all that?
“Alright, Sammy. I trust you.”
The alleyways that Sammy led her through were jagged and poorly planned. Klara couldn’t help but notice how poorly the buildings had been made, and assumed Sammy and the various other inky people she’d seen the day before must have clumsily built them by hand. It was amazing how Sammy was able to traverse the strange winding path so well, like he’d memorized the way. At points, the gaps between buildings were so small that they grazed his shoulders, leaving ink stains behind.
When they did emerge from the narrow passages, they found themselves in that same open square that Klara had seen the day before. The ground was dirt, as were the walls of the cavernous space, but even that was not spared the yellow hue. On the far end of the square were docks set on a river of ink. Do they drink ink? How does that work?
By the docks, she was surprised to see a dozen or so masked people watching her and Sammy. Each held a candle, which shed light on the odd designs. Some of the masks were simple planks of wood adorned with handprints. Others had circular wooden masks with crude smiley faces. Finally, a few masks in the shape of Bendy’s head, which sported smiles and more ornate designs. Still, no one’s mask was like Sammy’s, sporting the actual image of the cartoon itself.
Sammy led Klara by the hand to the others. She felt unnerved and a bit shy in front of the crowd, but Sammy seemed to bask in the attention.
“Excellent, we’re all here. Hello everyone, thank you for attending. Today, I am delighted to introduce Klara to our family. Grace, is the ink prepared?”
A figure wearing an ornate mask nodded.
“Perfect. Then let us begin.”
Grace, whoever they were, held an inkwell in one hand and a candle in the other. They began to walk away, and Klara was caught off guard as she spotted a large statue of Bendy erected in the corner of the dock, its base covered in candles. It seemed to be made of some kind of polished stone, which stood out against the wood and soil she’d been seeing so far. It had Joey written all over it. This seemed like something he’d have had made as some ego project.
As Grace began to pour ink over the statue from the inkwell, Sammy led Klara by the hand towards it. All this attention had her stomach in knots, but when she averted her gaze from the statue, Sammy lifted her face back up to face it. “Do not fear him,” he whispered, “He wants you to love him.”
Once she was deposited in front of the statue, and the inkwell had been emptied over it, Sammy and Grace stepped back. While Grace rejoined the crowd, Sammy stood only a few feet behind Klara. She wasn’t sure if this should put her at ease or concern her.
Sammy cleared his throat, then began. “Ink Demon,” he boomed concisely, catching Klara off guard, “We have gathered in congregation to honor you on this day, and to bring you a new believer. It is in your darkness that we reside, and so it is in your darkness that we delight. We are in your image, my Lord, tortured as you are. We shall suffer as you have to gain your love, and we shall return that love tenfold. With us today is a Lost One who seeks your guidance. Please, my savior, hear me now and follow our voices. We await you with open hearts in this sanctuary you have made for us.”
A strange chorus began from the crowd, sending chills up Klara’s spine. What the hell is he making me do? She stared at the statue, afraid to break eye contact with it lest she upset Sammy. The haunting song echoed throughout the cavern, bouncing back as if another chorus had begun to sing along. Amongst the overwhelming sound, Klara could see the ink begin to bubble.
“Yes!” Sammy cried out over the continued singing, “Come to us, my Lord! Come and claim Klara as one of us!”
The ink expanded in an impossible way, enveloping the statue entirely. Klara’s body began to tremble. Stop. Stop. Stop. Sammy. Please stop. But she couldn’t speak. She’d lost the courage as something began to emerge from the ink. Something slender and sharp.
Horns.
And with them came a face. A round, pale, grinning face, toothy and eyeless. It pushed through slowly, and soon a skeletal body began to emerge. Slender arms burst through and began to dig at the dock’s boards, pulling the monster out of the statue and onto the ground where it slowly and shakily stood, dripping with inky viscera. It loomed over them all, ribcage expanding and collapsing in deep heaving breaths, standing on cloven hooves that bent at strange angles. Frozen with fear, Klara could only stare up at it as it approached her.
The crowd was silent. Sammy was silent. The monster spoke in a deep, garbed voice.
“Prophet.”
Sammy let out a strange squeaking sound, only unsettling Klara further. “Yes, my Lord?”
“What have I told you,” the beast growled, “about summoning me without warning?”
Sammy’s voice lost a bit of its joy. “Not to do it without checking with you first…”
“If you know that, why didn’t you check with me?” Even as it spoke to him, its focus remained on Klara, who couldn’t stop herself from dripping under its invisible gaze.
“I’m sorry, my Lord. I was so caught up in preparations-”
“Enough excuses. Let’s get this over with.”
The monster began to slowly circle Klara, eyeing her up and down. It leaned in and sniffed her in a strange way. “Where did you find this one? It reeks of him .”
“Ah,” Sammy laughed awkwardly, “I was just doing my rounds, restocking your altars, lighting candles, when I found her unconscious.”
“Hm.” Once the monster had circled back around to facing Klara, it reached forward and squeezed her face. Klara flinched as it leaned forward, still grinning. For a moment, it studied her in silence. For her, it felt like eons. Eventually, though, it released her and finally turned its attention to Sammy. “You. Over here.”
Sammy nearly frolicked over. Klara had never seen him so happy, and here he was, running up to a terrifying skeletal inky beast. He beamed behind his mask, his hands still clasped together. “Is she to your liking, my Lord?”
The monster pointed a sharp finger at Sammy’s mask. “My patience with you is wearing thin, Prophet. You’d be wise to up the offerings if you want to keep your harbor. If you summon me again without prior agreement, I’ll be leaving with one of your toys, understand me?”
“Yes, my Lord!” Sammy giggled. He sounded so excited…
“As for that ,” the monster pointed to Klara, who by now had fallen to her knees, “bathe it. It stinks.”
Before Sammy could respond, the creature stormed back into the inky statue, which swallowed up the ink until it was spotless again.
“Thank you, my Lord!”
Klara blacked out.