He is another oc! Lately I am in love with this new style of shading, where I am using a different brush and also start shading the whole thing as one piece instead of shading the colour individually if that makes sense this includes the outline which I didn't include here but I did it for the golisopod
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Lost ones are beings of pure ink. They have no bones, tissues, or organs of any kind. They merely look human because they percieve themselves as human. Searchers are less able to hold shape because they have less of a mind. It’s possible for a soul within ink to lose themselves so much that they’re only a puddle. Swollen searchers... are just searchers that contain more ink.
Self-perception also factors into what lost ones look like- Sammy is stronger than he was as a human because he’s taking on a role that requires a lot of stregnth from him, and he’s faceless because he’s lost his identity.
Unlike lost ones, toons have a few organs- just enough for cartoon gags and a few basic functions. They have a very basic digestive system, a heart, a few “bones” (which serve no purpose), and that’s basically it for internals. They’re also much heavier than they look due to being made of dense, solid ink.
No ink creature can change their body's shape through eating or exercise habits because... well... they don’t have muscle or fat tissue. It’s all ink, man. Toons can literally "sculpt" themselves to an extent using the ink of other creatures (like Alice does), but that's the only way to permenantly change one's appearance.
Needs
Lost ones essentially don’t have physical needs aside from needing to be near the machine. They can sleep and eat, but they don’t get hungry or tired, so they don’t really need to. It is essential for lost ones to stay mentally sharp in order to keep their forms, however.
Toons have little in terms of physical needs, but they have more in terms of physical wants/drives. To make them act more humanlike, toons will get hungry and tired- however, they cannot die or experience health problems from not having these needs fullfilled. In addition, they need to stay near the machine in order to keep their form.
Toons, due to their lack of essential organs, are very hard to lethally injure. Case and point the butcher gang. However they will feel a realistic amount of pain from their injuries. It’s safer to just immobilize them (like Allison did to Alice), because if you kill them, they’ll melt and be reborn.
All ink creatures love warmth. They can’t die of the cold, but they will seek out warmth whenever possible, and produce no heat themselves.
Heart and Soul
Lost ones are essentially a pile of ink animated by a soul. If you manage to kill a lost one, you’ve essentially knocked the soul from its body, and it will possess another pile of ink within several hours/a couple days.
Toons are more complicated. The human’s soul, as well as the other presences contained within the toon, is contained within their heart, which also allows the ink creature to be reborn in the ink machine when killed.
All toons aside from Bendy have a human soul. Most also have a toon soul, and occaisionally, one will have a demonic soul. Only one entity will control the body at a time, and an entity left unused can fade into almost nothing over time. Once this happens, only a severe emotional shock (such as a trauma response) can bring the presence back. The toon is usually dominant- especially ones Joey made more recently, as he refined the process he uses to make toons over time.
A toon that has had its heart removed will be incapable of thought, or any behaviour aside from wandering around and following basic commands. Brute Boris is an example of this. A toon such as this, when killed, will not revive.
At the end of BATIM chapter 5, did we brake the loop by finally SUCCEEDING to play the last reel? Some ideas and thoughts
What if the reason Henry was stuck in a loop, was that he never SUCCEEDED in playing the last reel to the ink demon? Until now. Think about it, Henry’s messages tell us two things: Don’t turn on the ink machine/leave the studio AND how to defeat the ink demon, how to play the “the end” reel. Now if playing the last reel just starts the loop from the beginning, why would Henry leave hints on how to play it? What’s the point? He should rather leave hints at how to destroy the ink machine or how to avoid the ink demon or something.Â
What we saw at the ending could just have been some kind of a prequel, just showing the players how Joey looks, how it all started, just some information.
But this leads to so many another questions. If i we indeed succeeded to play the reel for the first time, if we finally broke the loop... What happens next?
Do the toons, searchers and lost ones just leave the studio?
How will they react and behave in the real world?
Do they die?
Are they still stuck, because the elevator is broken or something?
Does Henry confort Joey?
Does he call the police?
Will Joey be charged for deprivation of liberty, murder and putting Henry and others in danger?
How will Joey react?
Will the ink creatures being seen as... things? Or living beings with a consciousness?
Will Henry forget everything once again?
If not, how will Henry cope with what he saw? He now knows that MONSTERS, DEMONS, TOONS actually EXCIST!
What about the ink machine? This thing is able to CREATE (at least semi) intelligent BEINGS! This is porpably the most important invention of all time in this universe!
Will Joey ever use it again? Will someone else use it? What happens if it’s turned on again? New toons?
Actually, I kinda hope that playing the last reel is NOT the way to break out of the loop. Maybe the Henry who wrote the messages just didn’t find the right way. Maybe he will write new messages when he does. Or maybe Henry who is played by us, the players, will somehow find out.
After all, it is hinted in chapter 3, that Henry seem to at least somehow remember that he is stuck in a loop. When he is in the area near the Heavenly Toys, he says “Wow, I don’t remember any of this.”Â
Someone who was never before in the studio, or someone who does NOT know that he was in this place, wouldn’t phrase it this way. I think this shows a tiny glimpse of Henry’s memory, where he remembers that he WAS there before, just doesn’t remember how it looked like.
Also, @adobe-outdesign (who also noticed the weirdness of the “I don’t remember any of this” phrasing), purposed that the flashing lights we see several times in the game, are actually Henry’s flashbacks.
So, I came up with this while making a Secret Satan gift, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. It takes some elements from my “like it never happened” stories. Here we go. (Please send asks on this, I’d love to talk about it!)
-Henry managed to knock out Joey and contact the police after one of his loops. The appropriate authorities took care of the rest- taking the ink machine into government research and trained soldiers capturing the souls of all the ink creatures. Joey was interrogated for information on how to help the people he’d trapped and how to utilize the ink machine. He died in prison shortly after these events, and Henry was allowed home.
-The government researchers studied the ink machine and learned how to print functional organs for transplant from it. They also learned how to use the ink machine to create functioning, in-colour human bodies. It was this way that the researchers gradually brought the trapped human souls back into the real world.
-These bodies emulate human function quite well, including producing heat and having a pulse. They still look a bit cartoonish- their skin is completely smooth, with no pores, veins or hair, and they overall look less detailed. Whether this makes them look like airbrushed models or wax robots depends on who you ask.
-Not everyone was able to bounce back. Norman is still violent and mute despite not being in the Projectionist’s body anymore, Allison will never recover her memories, and of course, everyone will have various levels of trauma to deal with.
-Toon presences and demonic presences were given “bodies” which were basically 3-inch cubes. This is how Malice, many demonic butcher gangs, and most of the ink demon will spend eternity.
-Some people wanted to keep the the toons that they’d been sharing minds with, or at least, wanted them to not spend eternity in a cube. Giving these presences bodies that looked like pre-created cartoon characters was comparatively very easy, so the researchers indulged these people.
-Once the people were all released, the ethics of keeping innocent toons in cubes were reconsidered, and many other toons were re-made.
-Henry adopts three of these toons: Alice, Boris, and Bendy.
-Boris is safehouse Boris. Buddy couldn’t keep him, so he contacted Henry about it. It’s how Henry found out about it to begin with.
-Bendy is Dobermutt’s Bendy, basically. Though, now is a good time to mention that Bendy could just have easily emerged as the sensitive, mild-mannered little bean we see in the cartoon shorts. When a character has multiple portrayals, it’s completely random which version the character will come out as.
-Alice was portrayed many different ways in the Bendy franchise. The one that Henry adopted had shared a body with Allison, and she’s basically a 12-year-old little girl.
-While people are very shocked about the existence of these toons, by the time Henry had adopted them, information was available on some details of how they came to exist, so it spares them having to explain over and over.
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Breaking the Timeloop, chapter 1: Henry, this is Henry
Thanks for showing support for this, guys. I hope you like it. The first chapter mostly outlines the “laws” of this fic’s universe, which are based on popular Reddit theories of the time. They’re outdated now, but made for a nice story.
---
Henry Stein stepped into Joey Drew Studios, apprehensive as to what he might find. Returning to the studio had seemed like such a small favor to make his ex-business partner and old friend happy. Joey Drew had seemed so remorseful, and so much calmer and kinder than he had been back then. Still, as soon as Henry was staring down the studio's halls, lifeless and decaying  but otherwise unchanged, he was reminded of the time he'd spent working in them. In those years, Joey Drew had shown an ugly, selfish, twisted side of himself to Henry. One that Henry had all but forgotten about. Who knew what he'd wanted from having Henry return?
 With a start, Henry realized that he was holding two objects in his hand, neither of which he recalled bringing in: a strange, hand-mirror shaped instrument, and a book with the words, READ IMMEDIATELY written large in ink over the entire expanse of the cover. Henry obeyed the text.
Henry? This is Henry. This'll come as a surprise, but you're stuck in a time loop, buddy. You seem to lose your memory every few loops. After a few hundred loops, though, I figured that out and started this journal. This way, you can learn from my mistakes and hopefully have a better chance of getting out of here.
I don't know why I'm here. That makes it pretty difficult to guess what needs to be done to get out. My best guess is that Joey Drew put me in this time loop so that I could fix his mess. Keep your eyes out for any indication that this is not the case, but for now, focus on trying to save as many people as possible.
Follow these rules:
1. Write down anything significant you learn. If you end up in Joey Drew's apartment, write everything you need to down, because it'll be your last chance to do so before a new loop begins.
2. Don't be afraid to die. This time loop effectively makes you immortal. Take risks to experiment.
3. Protect this book at all costs. When Joey Drew sends you back into the studio at the end of a loop, transfer it and the seeing tool to your right hand to ensure it will be preserved.
The next page contains a table of contents. This page contains a list of the creatures you'll encounter. Please read it.
Ink creatures in general
Each ink creature was either made with a soul, or took on an imprint. The ones with souls hold the memories of the people they once were. I'll start with the ones with souls.
Sammy Lawrence
Yeah, that Sammy Lawrence. Sorry, bud, but you had to learn sometime that Joey created a real tragedy. Sammy isn't your chipper, if easily annoyed old friend anymore. He's an ink-covered loon who worships Bendy (who I'll get to later) to the point where he's willing to use you as a human sacrifice. He mostly lurks in the first basement floor and second to lowest floor of the studio. However, since he worships the ink demon, he can be anywhere instead of hiding away from him as most ink creatures do. Bendy is still malicious to him occasionally, however. He's almost invariably malicious at first, but there are ways of saving him. See pages 34, 52, and 57 for how to befriend him. He's a powerful ally as he runs a cult of lost ones and searchers.
Times befriended: 63/584 (since I started counting)
Times killed: 311/584
Susie Campbell/Alice Angel (scarred)
Susie Campbell's soul was transferred into an Alice Angel clone. Be extremely careful around her, as she is capricious and has no qualms with murder. She is mostly found on the ninth floor, where she has a fairly significant portion of the studio sealed up to protect herself from the ink demon. She has access to a lot of machinery in there, and can control the elevator to some extent. Don't fall into her web-she has arguably adapted to surviving and protecting herself here better than anyone. She can also be found on level S. Do not use the elevator unless she either hasn't met you, or is dead. Be especially wary of her if you're traveling with a Boris. She kills them to use their organs. For how to befriend her, go to page 78. For ways to kill her, go to pages 7, 12, and 21.
Times befriended: 3/584
Times killed: 105/584
The Projectionist
A mechanical creature containing the soul of Norman Polk. He shows no signs of sapience. I never liked the guy, but he didn't deserve this. He likes dark areas, but he can be found anywhere because he doesn't have the sense to beware the ink demon. You'll know him when you see him, and when you do, run. There are ways to kill him, though: see page 54.
Times befriended: Â Â /584
Times killed: 9/584
Bertrum Piedmont
Apparently, after I left the company, Joey tried to make a Bendy-themed amusement park which never got off the ground, and enlisted in this guy's help. They were always at each other's throats, and after they were done doing business together, Joey put his soul in an amusement park ride resting in a storage room for all the other unused Bendyland equipment. You'll know it when you see it. Unfortunately, he always mistakes me for Joey Drew, and that makes him almost impossible to befriend: he thinks it's just Joey being a manipulative liar. You must debilitate him before even attempting to befriend him-there is one very specific way to do so. For how to kill him, see page 4. For how to debilitate and befriend, see page 49.
Times befriended: 69/584
Times killed: 415/584
Lacie Benton and Grant Cohen
By using the seeing tool, I have detected their names on coffins. These same coffins hold the corpses of the others that were killed. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots. At least one of them is a Lost One, it would seem, as at least one Lost One can talk and remembers its name. Lacie worked for Bertrum. She was probably killed because she was suspicious of Bertrum's whereabouts, but that's speculation. Grant Cohen was likely killed so that Joey could keep the company's financial matters secret.
Alright, now onto the soulless creatures. You probably can't save these, but they can still seriously help or hinder your quest.
Butcher Gang Members
Kill on sight. They have no signs of sapience and are invariably malicious. There are many copies of them.
Boris (perfect)
Almost invariably benevolent. The time spent with him (generally in his safehouse on the second basement floor) is like time spent with family. Down here, that kind of moral support is scarce and invaluable. However, he can be a serious liability if you run into the scarred Alice Angel. If that happens, keep him away from her at all costs. If she does get him, well, try to remember that he doesn't really have a soul. Just an imprint, seemingly of Wally Franks (laid-back, goofy, friendly, weak-willed, etc.) Though, that doesn't seem to keep him from feeling a fondness for me, or from feeling pain. I'm sorry Henry, but you're often gonna have to kill your dog. Alice hulks him up and turns him against you. For how to kill, see page 4.
Times befriended: 437/584
Times killed: 239/584
Alice Angel (unscarred)
She lives on the second-to-lowest level of the studio with a Boris clone she calls "Tom." She's generally benevolent. I suggest you recruit her early, as her combat skills can really come in handy, and, as I've mentioned, good company is scarce. When you meet her, show her your seeing tool. She has a tendency of thinking of you as some sort of savior, but she sees the seeing tool as some kind of proof of that. Her imprint could honestly be of anyone, but she's calmer than I ever knew Susie to be and has a rather feminine personality, so I'm going to guess it's Allison Pendle, who was hired to replace Susie as Alice's voice actress. For how to kill her, go to page 63.
Times befriended: 289/584
Times killed: 38/584
"Tom" Boris
Tom is a very distrustful, hardened Boris clone. He is often the main obstacle to befriending Alice. Sometimes, he can even convince her to imprison you. He is very useful in combat and situations involving strength, however. Don't try to befriend him: befriend Alice, and she'll convince him. And whatever you do, don't harm her, or look like you might harm her, in front of him. By his personality, he seems to have the imprint of Thomas Connor.
Times befriended: 260/584
Times killed: 38/584
Lost Ones and Searchers
Can't lie, don't know what these are. Some are malicious, some aren't. At least one can speak, most can't. By the same token, only a couple seem to have their own personality. I don't know if they have souls or not. I just know that when I am engulfed in the ink, I can hear their thoughts. It's like they're simultaneously one voice, and many. Their methods of combat often make them seem like a hive mind.
Bendy
Almost everyone in the studio fears Bendy. He's very powerful: he can teleport using posters, can only be killed or hurt by seeing the end tape of his cartoon (you read that right. See page 3.), and can send any creature back into the inky abyss with a single touch.
Because almost every interaction I have with him includes running away, I have not been able to get a good sense of his personality. However, I've noticed a pattern: he ceases to attack anything after he has killed a creature with a soul. He doesn't go after others without a soul, though he doesn't mind coming close enough to them to melt them into the tendrils of ink that follow him everywhere. I think he wants a soul. Maybe that's why he's after me.
I have not yet made allies with the ink demon. He doesn't seem to take sacrifices of a souled creature- in fact, he reacts with disgust and outrage, injuring (often mortally injuring) the sacrificer before coming after the sacrifice. The only exception I've found is if the person was defending themselves.
This shows me that Bendy has standards for other people but not himself. He uses everyone he can use, and is willing to stomp on and destroy anyone he can't. There's no question in my mind who his imprint is: Joey Drew. Nonetheless, his demonic powers lead me to believe that he might know something about how to save these souls.
 Henry stared at the page a long time after he'd finished reading, as though that would change its words.  Deep down, though, he knew that three pages of his own handwriting hadn't spontaneously appeared, and he definitely didn't remember writing them. He flipped through it to find that there indeed were over seventy pages to it, all in his own writing. His stomach sank as he realized that this was entirely real. "Oh, Joey, what have you been doing?" he whispered to himself.
I hope you guys enjoy this. I hope it’s not too similar to The Draw of The Pipes. Sorry it’s so long- I might split it in two for the AO3 version.
---
It was three weeks after downing the ink, and Sammy felt like hell. He supposed that it was just the ink doing whatever it had to for it’s cause, but right now, it seemed to want to give him stabbing pain in his head and tie his stomach in knots. It didn’t used to be this bad- he used to just feel like this, or least, almost this bad- after eating. Now- well, he’d have trouble keeping anything down. He would have gone for medical attention a week ago, and had run the idea by Joey, but Joey said that if he did that, they might be able to figure out their secrets. Sammy supposed he was right.
Sammy’s mind was swimming. Did this song he was writing even make sense? Sammy then realized that he was writing musical notes over the ordering form he had been filling out before he spaced out. If not medical attention, maybe he could use a day in the infirmary.
There was a knock at the door to his office. It was Norman. “Yes?” Sammy asked weakly.
Norman brushed hair from his eyes and allowed himself to take in Sammy’s appearance. He looked so tired and sick that it hurt to look at. “Sammy,” Norman said in a serious, genuine voice. “Can you meet me after work?”
“Why?”
“I need to talk to you seriously about something.”
“Why can’t we do it here?”
Norman peered over his shoulder, closed the door and whispered, “I suppose we could, if you think it’s safer. Will he be okay with it?”
Sammy glared at him with all the force he could muster. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I can do whatever I want.”
“Okay. Promise me you’ll be there. Here’s my address.” He handed Sammy a sheet of paper. “Right after work, okay?”
“Fine,” Sammy sighed. He was too tired to make fight out of it. Norman turned to leave. “Wait,” Sammy said. “Do you see faint words on the walls here? Like ink that couldn’t quite be scrubbed off?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God.” At least now, Sammy could be sure that he wasn’t seeing things.
Shortly after Norman left, Sammy went down to the infirmary for the rest of the day.
—-
The bastard stole his keys! Sammy wasn’t sure how he’d done it, but Norman had taken the keys right out of his pocket. Well, Sammy might have skipped meeting Norman otherwise, but now he had no choice. So, he followed the address and ended up on Norman’s doorstep. Norman opened the door before Sammy got the chance to knock.
“Come in,” Norman said gravely.
“Give me back my keys,” Sammy growled.
“After. Come in.”
Sammy obeyed. Norman’s house was nice enough, he supposed, although the wall with dozens of photos of people taped to it was disconcerning. Sammy even saw a picture of himself on it. Without even looking at him, Norman pointed to an armchair. Sammy sat down in it, and Norman disappeared to the kitchen and came back a second later with two cups of coffee, one of which he handed to Sammy.
“What are you doing?” Sammy asked.
“Making you comfortable,” Norman answered.
No, you’re not, Sammy wanted to say, but he settled for giving Norman a weird look.
“Sorry, I’m not good with new people. But anyhow, I wanted to talk to you because I know you’re in a relationship with Joey Drew, and I’ve seen that you’re not half yourself lately. How is he treating you?”
“Fine,” Sammy snapped.
Norman got up and pretended to swing at Sammy. His fist ended up almost a foot from where Sammy was, but Sammy ended up curled into a whimpering ball, his hands protecting his face and his coffee sprayed across the floor.
“I don’t think you’re fine.”
“You know what? You’re making a ton of assumptions, here. Joey is the best thing that ever happened to me! Maybe my dad beat me, and that’s why I cowered like that. Maybe I’m just jumpy in general. Maybe you’re just that freaky! Ever think of that? You can’t prove anything! And even if you could, why would you care?”
Norman sat back down. “Sorry. Can I tell you why I care?”
“Will you give me my keys back afterwards?”
Norman sighed. “So, the reason that I care is that I think I saw my best friend go through the same process. You’re familiar with the finance manager, now that you’re in his office, right?”
As a head-of-department, Sammy had had a few run-ins with the finance manager over the years, but hadn’t bothered to learn his name until they’d switched offices. “Toby?”
“No, the one before him. Grant Cohen.”
“Don’t know him.”
“Well, he was also in a relationship with Joey Drew. I remember how happy he was when Joey finally made it official. He thought all he was to him was a toy. After that, though... well, I could sense things were going wrong, but I never said anything. I watched Joey treat him like property, and I never said a word... Months later, he gives me a call at eight at night, asking to come over. He shows up with cracked glasses, a bloody nose, and a hand-shaped bruise across his face. I was with him when he made that phone call to break up with Joey and give his two weeks’ notice. Honestly, I thought giving him that much was too much, but Grant wanted the severance package. Well, he disappeared less than two weeks later, and I was left wishing that I’d said something before it escalated like that. And now I’m looking at this small, scared, worn-down version of Sammy Lawrence who’s also in a relationship with Joey Drew, and this time I don’t want to keep my mouth shut.”
Sammy was in silence for nearly a minute. “Joey never treated me like a toy,” Sammy mused. “From day one, he treated me like someone who he really respected and wanted in his life. And he would never hit me in the face. I wonder what Grant did to deserve that...” he was just thinking aloud, but now Sammy realized how insensitive it sounded. And yet, Norman, didn’t seem offended.
“I never said your relationship was exactly the same. And you have bruises, Sammy.”
“I- what?” That couldn’t be right. Joey hadn’t beaten him in over a week. And yet, Sammy looked down and saw that his arms were covered in dark splotches, like there was a black substance trapped under his skin. He started hyperventilating. “This isn’t from Joey.”
“Sammy...”
“No, it’s worse. It’s ink. Joey and I downed ink together.”
“Ink? How are you even alive?!”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s not deadly. Just... just a little toxic. I don’t know what it’s going to do to me, Norman. Joey and I are supposed to go through this together, but it’s making me so sick and I-I’m scared.”
Norman came over and hugged Sammy, hoping that he’d stop shaking. “Shh... it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
After they separated, Sammy said, “Listen, Joey isn’t going to kill me. But... maybe he is a little toxic. But he’s given me things that you can’t even understand. And I think I can take him. I think I can take,” Sammy looked down at his arms, “this.”
Norman wasn’t sure what to say. This was all so much weirder than he’d thought. “Well, I can’t make you leave him. But if the toxicity ever gets to be too much to handle, just know that I’m here, alright? Tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Thank you.”
“Here’s your keys.”
—-
Right after the run-in with Norman, Sammy had been annoyed- mostly at himself for being so weak and selling out his partner like that, but also at Norman for putting him in that situation in the first place. Over the next few days, though, he began to think he had the right idea. Those three days had been rough- Sammy was spending almost as much time resting in the infirmary as he did working. The inky “bruises” were growing. At home, Joey was good about handling things around the house while Sammy rested. He’d been sympathetic to Sammy, since, for some reason, downing the was barely affecting Joey at all.
“I guess the ink just has different plans for us,” he’d said, “I guess we’ll just have to trust the process. Trust that it knows what’s best.”
Sammy wanted to trust the process. Wanted there to be a point in this. But he was also scared. His last straw was when he first noticed the veins extending from his bruises turning black. The thought of those painful areas spreading all over his body...
The morning four days after Norman’s intervention, Sammy got up at four in the morning and slipped out to visit the emergency room, where he was taken in, stripped down, and observed by a flurry of doctors who had no idea what was wrong with him. One nurse carefully pierced one of his “bruises,” which looked more like ink-filled warts at this point, and took the substance in for analysis, as well as taking a blood sample.
“Well, there’s enough... ink, or at least a biological substance with the appearance and scent of ink, in your body to kill a dozen men through ink poisoning,” the doctor said. “We should really test this further.”
“No!” Please, just treat me.” Sammy pleaded. Joey would kill him if the public found out the truth.
“But you could have some underlying issue. And this... ailment... has never been seen before. What if it’s contagious? Researching it would be a matter of public health.”
Sammy wanted to cry. “I beg of you. Just treat me the best you can. You can’t use me as a test subject without permission, right? If you can’t treat me without tests, I’ll just have to leave.”
The doctor gave him the most sympathetic look. “I suppose if it’s between that and treating you the best we can, we’ll treat you, if you’ll sign a waiver. So, here’s what we can do. We can burst the skin deposits with a sterile needle to get the ink out, then flush the areas with strong antibiotics. We’ll also have you take some oral antibiotics. Then, we’re going to have to put you through blood transfusions. My guess is that it will take ten hours a day for three days to get your blood healthy again. There’s a whole lot of gunk in it.”
Sammy froze. Three days. How would he hide this from Joey? “Oh, okay. Let’s do it.” He’d figure that out later. He needed treatment.
Sammy was taken to another room, where nurses burst the inky tumours. It hurt. But having less ink in him was a relief- all that built-up pressure under his skin had been painful. After that procedure, it was late enough in the morning that Joey would be at work, and Sammy went out to make two phone calls. The first was to Joey Drew.
“Joey, it’s Sammy Lawrence,” he began cautiously.
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? YOU’D BETTER HAVE AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS OR I SWEAR TO GOD THERE WON’T BE ANYTHING LEFT FOR THE DOCTORS TO SEW BACK TOGETHER.”
The response was about level with Sammy’s expectations. “I do have an explanation. My aunt is sick, and I went to the Michigan hospital to see her. I got the phone call about three and a half hours ago, and I didn’t want to wake you up. I’m sorry.”
“Oh. No, I’m sorry for assuming the worst, and about your aunt. Call me if you need anything, alright?”
“Alright. I love you. Bye. And uh, it might be a few days before she recovers, or, you know...”
“Right. Take care.”
The second phone call was to Norman’s place.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice answered. Of course, Sammy realized. Norman would be at work.
“Hey. It’s Sammy. Did Norman tell you about me?”
“You’re the one who’s in an abusive relationship with Joey Drew?”
Sammy sighed. Norman really had no respect for privacy whatsoever, but he wasn’t in a position to reject his help over that. “It’s just a little toxic. But, yeah. And I need help. Could I have a place to sleep tonight?”
“Sure,” she said in the warmest voice.
“Thank you.”
It was about 8:30 when Sammy was through with the blood transfusions that day and had arrived at Norman’s home.
“Thank you so much,” Sammy said. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t come here. I need to be gone from Joey for three days, and my old apartment is already on the housing market. I can call my brother about tomorrow night, but...”
“Woah, hold up,” Norman interjected. “You’re going back to him?”
“The problem isn’t our relationship. I’m just getting some medical attention that he wouldn’t approve of. That’s all. Here, here’s where they were doing blood transfusions on me.” Sammy showed them the pinprick on his arm.
Norman looked at Sammy with pity, a look that he was rapidly getting used to. “Okay. You can stay here tonight, and tomorrow night, too. Have you had dinner yet?”
“I’m good. Look, I’m really tired. Can I...?”
“Of course. I’ll show you to the guest room.”
Before Sammy went to bed, he took a good look in the bathroom mirror. No wonder people were giving him all those pitying looks- he looked like he belonged on the street. His hair looked bristly and was stained with ink. His skin was stained as well, and was covered in sores, a couple even on his face, from bursting the ink tumours this morning. He hadn’t eaten in over a week and hadn’t eaten normally for some time before that. Maybe that’s why his skin looked so sickly pale. Maybe he really should eat something for his health’s sake. The crazy thing was that he didn’t even feel hungry- whatever the ink had him destined for, it must have wanted him to be immune to starvation.
The ink... it wants something for me... why am I messing up its plan?
In bed, Sammy tortured himself with that question. Why was he going against Joey like this? They were supposed to handle this, and whatever the ink brought them, together. And how on earth was he going to explain the medical bills to Joey? And the burst tumours? The thought of Joey’s fists coming down on all those tender sores until they bled, Joey shoving his fingers into them as punishment... it made Sammy want to run away. Thankfully, Sammy was very tired, so it wasn’t long before he was asleep.
Two days later, it was time for Sammy to go home. He showed up at eleven pm. “Hey,” Joey said gently. “How was it? Did your aunt recover?”
Sammy was pretty scared, so he went with the option that would explain why he was upset. “No.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It was nice for you to have us pay some of her hospital bills.”
Sammy’s eyes went wide. Did Joey actually think that’s what they were? “Yeah... ha ha.” Sammy walked past him. He was going to leave it there, but he couldn’t. He turned back to Joey. “Please don’t hurt me! I was desperate, alright? I love her!”
Joey looked genuinely surprised. “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I mean, I wish you’d contacted me about it, but it was life or death!” Joey spread his arms, “Come here.”
Sammy returned the hug. Joey started stroking his hair. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know it’s late, but do you want to get wasted? It’s Friday, so we can sleep in tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Could Sammy even drink anymore? It had been a while since he’d tried.
Sammy fetched a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. Cautiously, Sammy sipped from it. It went down fine- no sputtering on it, no disgust with the taste, no stomach ache. In that moment, Sammy realized that despite the recent blood transfusions, he felt healthier than he had since shortly after his infection. Maybe he really was all better.
“Someone’s happy,” Joey teased. Sammy then realized that he was wearing a big, dopey smile.
“Would you call me crazy if I said I feel better than I have in weeks? Come on, let’s make love, already!” One more thing he’d been too sick to do until now.
Sammy immediately regretted that as Joey began unbuttoning his shirt. The ink sores- he’d forgotten about the ink sores. “Wait. Stop. I changed my mind!”
It was too late, though. “Sex can wait,” Joey said darkly, his eyes focused on the sores on his chest, “but this shirt is coming off.” After undoing the last button, Joey threw the shirt to the side and circled around to look at his back. “Reach for your back. I want to see how far you can reach.”
Too scared to do anything else, Sammy obeyed. There was a long, horrible silence before Joey pushed Sammy onto the floor and held him down by his shoulders. “Explain the wounds.”
Sammy started sobbing.
“EXPLAIN THEM DAMNIT! DON’T MAKE ME MAKE YOU!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Sammy exclaimed between sobs. “I was so sick! I just wanted-” Sammy was cut off by a punch to his genitals, followed by several more to his chest and stomach. Joey was sitting on his legs, so he all he could do was cover his face and hope Joey would wear himself out eventually.
When Joey was finally finished, he was panting from anger and exertion. “I can’t believe you. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“I messed with the ink’s plan for us. We were supposed to face it together, and I failed you. I’m so sorry.”
Joey laughed. “If that’s all it were, I’d be happy. I didn’t know that the ink was going to make you this miserable. I don’t like seeing you like that. No. What you did was jeopardize our secrets. Imagine what’s going going to happen now that some hospital knows about the supernatural ink!” Joey’s fists curled. “We could both go to jail! I oughta-”
“Joey, wait! The only problem is a hospital finding out? Well, that’s good, because I never got help from a hospital. My sister is the one who helped me cut them off, honest! So it’s okay. It’s all okay, right?!”
“Oh! Oh,” Joey got up off of him. “Yes, of course it’s okay. I’m sorry about all that. Do you need some ice?”
Sammy nodded. After Joey had fetched him the ice, they made love and then turned in for the night. It had hurt thanks to all the bruises and wounds, but Sammy felt like he owed it to Joey for all of the trouble and lies. And as much as it hurt, it was still better than being ink sick. At least that was over.
—-
But it wasn’t over. The ink might have been removed from Sammy’s skin and what was left of his circulatory system, but nearly all his internal organs were gone, eaten, disintegrated. That’s why he was able to drink without a problem- there was no esophagus to reject the wine, and no stomach to ache. The ink was still deep inside of him, growing.
—-
The middle of the next afternoon, Sammy was still in bed, and Joey decided to check on him. Maybe he was taking the death of his aunt harder than it had seemed, and if so, Joey figured he ought to be there for him.
“Hey, Sammy. You up?” he asked to a completely-covered Sammy. No response. He tried shaking him gently, but again, no response. With his hands on him now, Joey realized that Sammy wasn’t breathing. He tore off the blanket to reveal the absolute horror beneath.
It was Sammy, alright. Same blue eyes, dead still and with ink and blood coming out of the sockets, leaving trails over purple skin. It was as though there were only an inch of human left overtop of the ink. Less in some places, where those dark tumours had returned. He even smelled like ink. Though still in a trancelike-state, Sammy reached weakly for the blanket. It was at this moment that Joey realized that Sammy was as cold as a corpse.
“Oh my God. I’m so, so sorry that I did this to you.” And Joey was. He’d had the perfect partner- one who had loved him despite knowing everything about him. And he’d let his insecurity, his lust for control, ruin him. If he could have chosen between having Henry back at his side or taking back the moment when he’d had Sammy drink that ink, he wouldn’t have hesitated to save Sammy’s life.
Joey spent the rest of the day caring for Sammy the best he could- feeding him soup, giving him hot water bottles and blankets to keep him warm, cleaning him up when he coughed up ink, keeping him company. For a little while, Sammy seemed to perk up a bit, and even tried to speak, though his voice was incomprehensibly thick with ink. By nightfall, though, Joey was convinced that Sammy was gone.
Joey gathered Sammy up into a plastic garbage bag, drove him to the studio, and left him in a supply closet in the very basement where Joey was sure no one would find him.
—-
The next thing Sammy was aware of was how cold he was. He reached for the blankets, but his hand found plastic. “What?!” Sammy said aloud. “I can- I can speak.” Somehow that surprised him. He stood up from the untied garbage bag and immediately stumbled on his own feet.
Where am I? ...This looks like the ink machine. How did I get here?”
All Sammy could remember was a delirious haze of laying in bed and Joey doting on him. Suddenly he remembered the last thing Joey had said to him.
“It’s gonna be alright. Remember all those magical nights we had together, running around in the woods, trying things we shouldn’t, getting drunk, talking about our passions, acting them out? We had so much fun. I’m gonna give you some time to think about everything else you appreciated in life, alright? But I’ll be here until the very end. That’s a promise.”
Sammy quickly realized that that was how you spoke to a dying man. Was he dead? He didn’t feel dead. On extremely unsteady legs, Sammy dragged himself off to a reflective metal surface. His feet and lower calves were like unmoving stumps on the ends of his legs. Inky blackness dominated his torso and had spread up his limbs and neck. Trying to touch his nose, Sammy realized why he was so unsteady- he could no longer move the parts of him that weren’t ink yet. The only reason he could even speak was the ink he had spat up and infected his mouth and jaw with earlier.
There was nothing for Sammy to do but sit down and watch the last of his humanity fade away. Watch and bawl tears of ink until his eyes were gone. Watch as ink was excreted from his remaining pores like sweat, engulfing his flesh. Joey had promised to be there for the end of his life. Maybe he’d even meant it. Joey had meant all his promises, really. All those promises to stop abusing him. But in the end, Joey was just a little too toxic to follow through.
—-
The following evening, Joey came down to the giant ink machine. It would be hard going on with this without loyal partner, but duty called.
Then, as he was making his way to the inner chamber, Joey nearly tripped over something unexpected: a somewhat muscular humanoid made of ink, curled up in fetal position on the cold metal floor. All of his subjects were supposed to be locked up! How could this have happened?! Unless...
“Sammy...?”
Sammy turned his head to Joey and nodded, whimpering.
Joey picked Sammy up in his arms. “You’re alive. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you... but I’ll think of something. That’s a promise.”
A part of Sammy wanted to reach down Joey’s throat and poison him with the ink that made up his body. A bigger part of Sammy thought that anything was better than staying trapped in this cold, metal dungeon. After everything he’d gone through, he wanted comfort. He wanted warmth. No matter where it came from. Sammy wrapped his arms around Joey. This might be a little toxic, but it was all he had.