These pipes that flow from the ink machine Give life to our little friend moving on the screen He′s got two pointy ears
And can be seen moving in the halls behind the scenes He's listening and always moving Following and choosing, standing and improving Then one day you pulled the spring And you re-animated our little Bendy Bendy and the ink machine In a way you′ve never seen Bendy and the ink machine Better watch out or he'll make you scream! He's got a friend called Boris that loves to play That good ol′ music from the day In a big large band with all his friends The clarinet was there for him ′til the end With a hoot and a toot that's all he′d play But now he's put up on display Waitin′ to be animated with no heart But that's a story for another day Bendy and the ink machine In a way you′ve never seen Bendy and the ink machine Better watch out or he'll make you scream! The creators, they lied to us, created us for the Gods To please them and then make things right and settle up all the odds We were never supposed to exist in this dimensional plane Now we suffer it's all your fault and you will know our pain, pain, pain... Bendy and the ink machine In a way you′ve never seen Bendy and the ink machine Better watch out or he′ll make you scream! Bendy and the ink machine In a way you've never seen Bendy and the ink machine Better watch out or he′ll make you scream!
Tear Jerker / Bendy and the Ink Machine
As a Moments subpage, all spoilers are unmarked as per policy.You Have Been Warned.
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Chapter 1: Moving Pictures
- Finding the corpse of Boris the Wolf. Your first clue as to what's really going on here, and it's a beloved character being horribly maimed and gutted, then his corpse being propped up as some sort of disturbing trophy.
- In a meta sense, seeing the studio in such heavy disrepair. The place is extremely dirty, there's ink everywhere, and not a person in sight. You listen to the tapes scattered all around the place, and you see how everyone was pushed to their breaking point by whatever Joey was doing, with formerly-enthusiastic members of the team threatening to quit if anything else goes wrong. Bendy and Boris once came to life on movie screens, bringing joy and laughter to their audiences, but now they'd be lucky to be part of a film history class.
Chapter 2: The Old Song
- Susie Campbell's tape. She talks about how excited and happy she is to be the voice of Alice Angel, but given the wreckage of the studio, it's clear her fame didn't last. And given what we see later, it's unclear as of this chapter if she even survived or not.
- After finding several tapes talking about Sammy Lawrence's Sanity Slippage, we finally get a chance to meet the man himself, and it's not a pretty sight. Sammy has become a deformed ink monster, and was driven almost completely insane by the horrors of what happened in the studio. And then he ends up getting killed by Bendy.
- The Searchers are terrifying ink monsters that constantly pop up from the floorboards and try to kill you, but their screeching sounds give off the impression that these things, whatever they are, are in a lot of pain and torment.
Chapter 3: Rise and Fall
- Boris cowering in the elevator. Poor guy just needs a hug...
- After spending a while with Boris helping you get through the ruins of the studio, you wander into a room and find dozens of Borises, all dead and gutted just like the one in Chapter 1. Definitely a Player Punch, after most players have gotten close to him. Boris's reaction is worse, where he stares at one of his gutted clones and examines it.
- Susie's entry in Chapter 2 becomes much, muchworse when you find her first tape in Chapter 3. All she wanted to do was voice Alice and make people happy, but then the role that could have been her big break was just yanked out from under her at the last second. It's also implied that she was dating Joey at one point before she got the job. Ouch.
- There is a moment in the elevator in which Henry eavesdrops on Alice quietly reminiscing how she was loved by everyone, no matter what Joey said... He apparently wasn't so confident about the poor toon's popularity, yet he still assured her actress Alice would be popular.
- Norman Polk's fate. He became an ink monster similar to Sammy, but with a projector for a head. Unlike Sammy and Susie, Norman doesn't even seem to be sentient anymore.
- Henry has his own tape in which he reveals that Joey hasn't been treating him fairly and describes him as a man full of ideas... and only ideas, never really paying back what Henry's been giving him. As if we needed more proof of Joey's incompetence...
- He also mentions that he hasn't seen a "Linda" in days due to being in the studio. Was this Linda his significant other? His daughter? Whatever they were, did the studio ultimately destroy their relationship?
- After you do what Alice asks, she tells Henry to go to the elevator, and reveals she wasn't going to set Henry or Boris free. She sets the elevator to crash, knocking Henry out. Boris then tries to rouse Henry, who's obviously been injured, and Henry can't warn him about the approaching Alice Angel figure. Boris is then dragged into the dark, terrified and unable to scream. Henry can only watch and lapse back into unconsciousness. Also, the only reason Boris was in trouble was because he followed Henry out, wanting to help. He ultimately sacrificed himself for Henry...
- Shawn Flynn's tape is a "Funny Aneurysm" Moment. He talks about how he painted some Bendy dolls with a "crooked smile" and calls Alice's merchandise "angel whatchamacallit". Then you realize that Shawn was probably killed or turned into an ink monster. It's like hearing that Jacksepticeye, his voice actor, was hurt.
- A few people have noticed that if you hide while "Bendy" is chasing you, there's a split second where he looks sad before returning to walking around. Either it's because he or someone else misses Henry and is chasing him for a different reason, or he's sad that he didn't kill Henry. Boris may not be the only one who needs a hug.
- What about his bad leg? If you pay attention how he walks in-game or have watchedPascal'svideos, it's painful to see him limping around.
Chapter 4: Colossal Wonders
- Remember the Searchers from Chapter 2? In this chapter, Henry finds the docile Lost Ones. People completely covered in ink with glowing yellow eyes that will peer at him with an absolutely despondent expression if he comes close. Most of them seem to be stuck in one place, or only move when you don't look. But there is one you see on a walkway...
Lost One: *crying* H-He's going to find me! He always finds me! Oh no! I just want to go home! *crying* When do we go home? WHEN DO WE GO HOME!?
- Near the Bendy animatronic, you can see a Lost One curled up out of reach, crying. After getting the seeing tool in chapter 5, you can see a message written below: "Please don't cry..."
- Bertrum Piedmont was only a man passionate about building amusement park attractions and has built many that shook imaginations for 40 years. He had the misfortune of being hired by Joey Drew to build an amusement park based on the Bendy Show. Despite claiming that this achievement of making the park would only be his, Joey's mismanagement ruins the park plan and he tries to kick Bertrum out. While you listen to Bertrum's last audio log in front of an octopus amusement park ride, you slowly realize you're actually looking at what became of him.
- Joey's audio log reveals he didn't even believe in his "power of dreams" inspirational speeches. So remember every time he justified exploiting his employees with these speeches? He is kicking even more dogs than ever before.
- Henry's attempt to rescue Boris from Alice. Just when it seems he will face Alice in the Haunted House, Henry is confronted by a frankentoon monster Boris created by Alice after she successfully took the wolf's insides. The Frankenstein Boris is now a mindless monster loyal to his kidnapper and hellbent on killing Henry, forcing Henry to kill his friend. When you finally slay Brute Boris, Henry goes to Boris's side and can only watch as the lifeless body of his friend dissolves away.
Henry: (horrified gasp) Boris!! No, no... What has she done to you?!
- If you listen close enough, you'll realize that Boris actually says Henry's name before the fight. If you give Boris a bone back in Chapter 3, he will still have it; a clear sign that this is indeed OUR Boris, which makes this all the more heartbreaking. The one who appears at the end is named Tom, which means our Boris is most likely gone forever.
- This fight becomes even worse when you analyze how he's damaged. Every time Henry damages Boris, his pipe disappears from his hand, meaning it either dissolved or got shoved inside Boris. And you have to do this three times. If the poor thing wasn't in agony before, he certainly was when he died.
- Even the music's hard to listen to.
- Sure, she was a Manipulative Bitch turned Ax-Crazy murderer, but you can't help but feel a bit bad for Susie. A woman who just wanted to play a character. Deceived and led on by Joey (maybe even an affair), being kicked out of the role with no prior notice, and slowly being driven mad by the Ink Machine and studio. By the time her transformation into Alice is complete, she's gone completely insane and is barely recognizable as the woman she once was. Driven to become a homicidal maniac by trauma, stress, and madness... I'd almost call Susie!Alice being stabbed and killed by Allison!Alice a Mercy Kill.
Chapter 5: The Last Reel
- Pre-release video logs have Henry confessing he misses Boris and Linda.
- Seeing Joey as an old man who ultimately realized his choices were bad ones, and quietly admits Henry was the one who kept him straight - but even this wasn't enough, at the end.
- Becomes even sadder if you view him telling Henry that he (Henry) should have "pushed harder" as a case of Never My Fault. Even with everything that's happened, Joes can't fully accept that all of this madness was his and only his fault, and would go so far to protect his denial as to blame the one person who had absolutely no involvement.
- Allison Pendle has been trapped in the studio for so long that she can't remember her own name.
- After getting the Seeing Tool, going back through the other chapters (mainly Chapter 2) and finding all the graves with named characters on them. They did not deserve this.
- And when using the Seeing Tool while you're near Boris, or a poster of him?
Invisible Message: I'm sorry, buddy.
- Or how about the implication of the hidden messages in the previous four chapters? Namely, that they were written by Henry, who's trapped inside the studio and forced to repeat his experiences there, going in circles but never finding a real way out?
- And when using the Seeing Tool while you're near Boris, or a poster of him?
- Several of the audio logs are about the creation of the Ink Demon himself... and it's rather sad. He was the one and only Bendy ever created and brought into the real world. Why? Because he was deemed such a failure Joey didn't want to risk making another imperfect replica of his cartoon star. One log shows Joey demanding that "that grinning thing" get locked up... for no other reason than the possibility that Bendy's appearance may give the company bad PR. To make it worse, there's no indication in the audio logs that Bendy had ever done anything bad up to that point. As far as we're told, all he did was wander the halls and act as an in-universe case of Uncanny Valley. Makes one wonder if he only became what he is in the game proper due to the forced isolation and a desire to strike back at those who've hurt him.
Joey Drew: —but I'm paying for living attractions, not weird abominations! Whatever that grinning thing I saw wandering around your office, you better keep it locked up tight!
- When Joey finds out that the reason Bendy "failed" was because he lacked a soul, the first thing he does is go to Susie and manipulate her into becoming the first Alice Angel.
- With the ending in mind, (specifically the fact that Joey sent Henry on an unknowing quest to kill the Ink Demon), quite a few of Bendy's actions against Henry seem less out of crazed bloodlust... and more like an effort to survive. Bendy clearly knew that Henry was going to use "The End" against him and stole it, only attacking him when the man got his hands on the reel. Several encounters with him in the previous chapters, many of which were just jump scares that caused no harm, may have been his attempts to simply scare Henry off.
- If you go with the above interpretation, Bendy convulsing, crawling, reaching towards Henry and screaming as "The End" plays and causes him to evaporate becomes difficult to watch.
- The way Bendy gets distracted from Henry and wanders over to watch what's happening on the screen is almost... childlike. One can't help but wonder what would have been different if he hadn't been cast aside or if Henry had still been working in the studio during his creation.
- The last part of the Snow Sillies short can be painful to watch, especially Bendy crying over the snowman's melting at the very end. If you haven't felt bad for the little devil before, you certainly have now.
Was it mentioned before that the Ink just loved to fuck around with the Music Director? Because it just really loved messing around with the guy. Maybe he had the funniest reactions in its mind, maybe the bitter bully of magic art supplies thought of the man as someone who needed to be taken down a peg or two, or maybe it was just that the music department had the worst pipe setup in the entire studio, thus making it the hot-spot area for magic ink related mishaps and had also made Sammy the most common victim of those said mishaps not out of spite, but sheer coincidence as he was simply almost always in that constantly-flooding area.
You can't exactly sound sane when you're constantly complaining about getting wet while you live in the splash zone.
But whatever the case may be, a solid 90% of the shenanigans that the ink had in store for someone usually fell on Sammy’s head. And some days it felt like the stuff only bothered to mess with others if it meant that could mess with the irate musician at the same time.
Today started off fairly normal for the studio and its residents; same bustling rhythm of a symphony of pencils, same small talk chats in the break room, same ...workplace accidents.
Snowflake was trying to fish a mouse out of a crack in the wall for curiosity's sake when Sammy heard the tell-tale groan of a pipe about to burst coming from within the deep hole in the wall. A groan that if years of working in this inky studio hell had taught him anything, was going to be a particularly bad break.
Acting on instinct, the musician grabbed the imp and pulled him away from the crack but it was too late, the pipe burst over both of them, making the little demon flop down into a large inky pool.
Sammy sighed to himself as he shook off the access ink and noticed that his surroundings were much taller than they usually were. God there were days where he wondered why he didn't just quit and looked for a quieter and less stressful job that DIDN'T involve losing his humanity and peace of mind every other week. The music director reached out to where he swore Snowflake was, only for his hand to touch nothing but ink.
That was... concerning to say the least. Sammy swore that he held on tight to the little guy and didn't dare let go, he had to be somewhere in the pile of magical gunk.
"Don't panic Sammy, the ink wouldn't bring someone to life only to melt them away after a few weeks, right?"
And yet, the more he looked around, the more it seemed like that there was only one person in the ink pile. And the more the musician had felt a large pit of dread churn in his stomach.
"SNOWFLAKE?! SNOWFLAKE, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
The music director frantically dug through globs upon globs of ink, internally praying that the imp was simply shrunken to six inches like others had been instead of melted away only to find nothing but ink, ink, and more ink. The man's panic-clouded mind did not register the fact that he his hands had the same gloves as the little demon did. Or maybe it did, but the man decided to focus on the more important part of the situation; the missing toon child.
"Oh god... Oh god, what am I going to tell Wally?!"
Snowflake's voice called out, jolting the musician with a mixture of relief and that slightly annoyed feeling people get when it turns out that they were panicking over nothing.
"Snowflake! Where are you? Why did you stay quiet when I called out for you?"
"I-I thought I was looking for you! Where did you go?"
"Where did 'I' go?" Sammy parroted as he frowned and searched. "I'm right here..."
The man's voice trailed off as he finally fished something out of the ink pile: his own, heavily ink-stained empty clothes.
"SAMMY?! What happened to you?!"
Snowflake called out in worry as he looked over the empty outfit while Sammy just looked at the clothes in annoyance.
"That &#^$ing ink again..."
Who was controlling the body now? Either both of them or one of them, but neither of them could give a straight answer as the Sammy-possessed Snowflake marched on down to Joey's office, climbed on top of the other chair, paused for a moment as the body couldn't decide whether to gently place the clothes on the animator's desk or to slam them into it and wound up just dropping them on it instead.
"Snowflake my boy!" Joey greeted in his usual chipper tone. "What brings you to my office today?"
"M-Mr. Drew, I.. Sammy is.. Sammy and I got caught in the ink and then-" The little demon stiffened for a bit and a frown crossed his features, while his voice did not change, his tone and mannerisms certainly did. "I'm stuck inside Wally's kid's body, and both of us want me out of it."
"Okay! Don't worry, I know exactly how to fix this and it'll only take a jiffy!"
Joey retrieved several ritualistic items while humming to himself, but when he reached into his desk drawer he froze up for a second then started frantically rifling through it.
"O-oh! Oh dear... Um.. Excuse me for a minute."
He walked out of the room and dialed up a number on the phone, the pair of souls stuck in one form crept up to the door and put his ear against the door, only managing to get one half of the conversation.
"Hello? Yes, it's me again. Do you have any 'scones' in stock?"
"A week?! Are you sure?!"
"No, I don't doubt it..."
"Yes, yes, of course, I understand."
"...But how do I break it to them that they're stuck like that for until Monday?"
"Well, yes, this does happen often... But it's not like I WANT it to!"
"You know how magic gets!"
"Thank you, I'll see you Sunday night then. Goodbye."
As Joey hung up, Snowflake zipped back to where he was sitting earlier. The man walked back into his office, sighed, and shook his head before sheepishly looking up at Snowflake and Sammy.
"I'm sorry you two but I'm afraid I have bad news; I'm missing a key ingredient for the reversal spell and I can't get it until Monday."
The demon's head clonked down on the desk, letting out the longest, most tired sounding muffled scream that Joey had ever heard, clearly from the music director. Don't get him wrong, he loved kids and wouldn't mind spending the week with Snowflake under non-magic-ink related circumstances. But he wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of being a kid again himself and also possessing somebody against both of their wills for any amount of time.
"Now ...Sammy..? There no need to worry, we've been through this before."
"He knows, he's just upset because aside from the weirdness of this, he and Susie were planning a date night on Friday and now they're gonna have to reschedule it again."
'He didn't need to know that!' Sammy mentally hissed.
"Nevermind, they weren't planning a date in the first place."
Sammy internally facepalmed.
"Terribly sorry to hear that then." Joey fidgeted with his tie nervously. "...I'll give you the paid leave while you're like this."
Wally wasn't quite sure if he should laugh, cry, or do both when he brought Snowflake and Sammy home.
The Janitor was used to weird stuff by now, heck, most of the time it felt like something crazy and magical happened every week. But there's 'the ink turned every piece of furnature in the building into cake' weird and then there was 'the guy who's technically your boss is possessing your son and now the power dynamic is weird.' weird.
Both of them seemed quiet, which was normal for Snowflake but slightly concerning for Sammy. Wally half expected to hear a long rant about 'the &[email protected]#ing ink that should NOT be magical, seriously, who in their right mind pumps a studio full of MAGIC INK?!' or at least something that indicated that the music director was in there.
"So uh... how ya feelin' about the whole 'body sharin' thing champ?"
"It's kinda like sharing a room with somebody who doesn't want to be in it in the first place and also it's like having a bunch of songs stuck in your head that you want to listen to so that they can get unstuck except the songs technically don't exist yet."
"Okay, and what about you, Sam? you've been pretty quiet."
"How do I usually feel about these kind of things, Wally?"
As Wally and Snowflake talked to each other, Sammy wondered if he was going to be staying at Wally's place throughout the week, or switching days between his own place and Wally's. Either way, it felt like this was going to be a very long week.
#bendy screaming Tumblr posts
Broadcast Illusion of Living - Chapter One - Mixing Frequencies
A/N - Greetings, darlings! ❤❤
Welcome to Broadcast Illusion of Living! This is going to be a crossover fic between Bendy and the Ink Machine and the story of Ghost and Pals's Communications Case Two! As I say in my AO3 tags, this is either the best or worst idea I've ever had...
(Yes, I am still struggling--I mean, working on my other works Drought and Drowned, but I felt very inspired to write this. And by the way, this has nothing to do with those AUs--different story, different Joey, different everything.)
I know my reading audience is primarily BATIM-based and may not have the knowledge of Communications...but honestly, finding the canon in the Ghost and Pals stories is difficult. Here is a list of the resources I used to develop the story as accurately as I can. Anyway...the canon Communications story revolves around two of Ghost and Pals's songs--Colorbars and Broadcast Illusion. The links to both of those are in the aforementioned document; I highly encourage you to listen to them and to listen to GHOST in general! They're fantastic!
Now for clarifications: This first chapter will be mostly Communications-centric--but don't worry, there definitely is BATIM near the end (and of course abundantly throughout the future chapters)! Now, this fic doesn't necessarily relate exactly to The Illusion of Living--I more used the title of that book to relate it to Joey, who this obviously does involve (and of course, Broadcast Illusion puns. Haha!). Lastly, there are characters who use American Sign Language, but I wrote it as common English for easy understanding (I only mention this because I actually know ASL and realize that it has its own type of grammar).
Anything else? I don't think so...
Thank you for reading, and have a phenomenal week!
Upper Peninsula, Michigan
Thin fingers tinker with a television set...
"Ugh--come on, connect, you damn thing--"
Kennith, focused, brushes his curly red hair out of his eyes and mutters under his breath.
*Click click click*
Static shatters the hopeful silence of the boy's room...
The teenager carefully turns the frequency dial on the set...
And...he's connected. He's connected! He's connected!
It's happening...it's finally happening!
Soon, he'll televise his C-O-L-O-R...his COLORBARS...and finally show them all what they deserve.
It's more than revenge...better than revenge...
It's justice for the unjustified...a moment in history, produced by the broken and thrown-away.
What exactly is going on?
...It might be easier to back up.
The discovery of the COLORBARS had been a coincidence and accident.
Kennith's former friend Stephanie Glass had been visiting (the former's parents fortunately out of the house) while he did what he did best--work with technology.
He was fiddling with his numerous television parts--most of which had unwittingly been deemed 'broken' and discarded in the city dump--when she waved to get his attention. Kennith temporarily put aside his tools and signed What is wrong?
After a hesitation, Stephanie signed I'm getting worried about you. The bullies at the school are still teasing and attacking you, you are still self-harming and getting worse... She stopped and grabbed his cut, scarred arms, inspecting them with great care and pity; he pulled them away from her grasp. I just do not know what to do, Kennith. I am scared. Your happiness is my happiness.
I am fine, Kennith signed back sharply. Do not worry. The bullies do not bother me. I will be okay. Of course, this was a lie...but there was no way he would ever, ever admit how much it hurt. It would make him seem weak, and besides, there was nothing she could do. Stephanie didn't know how to care for such a miserable person--she wanted him to be happy, but lacked the skills and knowledge to help him correctly.
Stephanie hadn't known what to respond; obviously, the constant abuse from her friend's peers and the lack of care from his parents rattled him so much that he felt the desire to cut. Even if she had done something to prevent it, like taking his knife away (which she foolishly had never thought of doing), she couldn't stop him from finding another one or using something else. He had to want to get better...he had to want to stop.
But Kennith didn't want to stop.
Did he even know what he wanted anymore?
Stephanie did not sign anything back, choosing to just smile and trust her friend's words. Maybe tomorrow would be different.
The phrase she had told herself every day without doubt...
Maybe tomorrow, the bullies would be absent.
Maybe tomorrow, other students would reach out to Kennith and provide at the very least a sympathetic ear. Or maybe tomorrow, Kennith would reach out to the other students and try to make friends.
Maybe tomorrow...Kennith's parents would finally pay attention and appreciate the talent in their child.
Maybe tomorrow would be different.
Kennith went back to his work, the teenage girl sitting on his bed and watching with curious blue eyes.
The television set he had been working on didn't seem to have any unfixable problems or additional modifications to it--it was just a screen and a box of wires. Regular colorbars flashed upon the wide screen, just like what would happen with any other television; Kennith smirked at his hued reflection and turned up the volume. Louder and louder the shrill *beeeeep* rang--the noise may have been annoying to any other person, but it sounded like a beautiful, symbolic siren to the boy (and of course was not of any disturbance to the Deaf girl).
But...even Kennith the technology prodigy couldn't explain what happened next...
The screen flickered menacingly as the beeping got higher and distorted; the boy stumbled back and clicked the off switch, but the screen continued to flare wildly between static and colorbars.
Black and white and black and white and blue and green and yellow and red--
"What the hell--?!" Kennith blindly groped for any button, wire, or switch while avoiding the too-bright light; he turned to find that his friend was staring fixedly at the colors.
The boy rapidly waved in front of the girl's face, but still she focused only on the COLORBARS behind him.
"Steph--!" Kennith desperately signed Look at me! straight before Stephanie's eyes, yet she continued watching the television...like she was hypnotized. "What--why--?"
There was only one way to fix this--Kennith covered his eyes with his arm and aimlessly hit the television set controls, hoping that somehow it would shut off. Out of a fantastic stroke of luck, he managed to slam his hand on the off button...and after one last squeal and run of static, the screen shut down.
Stephanie blinked six times, hard. What had just happened?
What just happened? Kennith signed panickedly; his friend shrugged with bewildered eyes.
She lifted her hands with a confused expression, as if not sure how she could explain this. I got stuck watching the television. I don't know...
You're okay now, right?
Yes. You saved me. Stephanie gave the other a smile almost as bright as the COLORBARS.
The boy didn't respond to the last point--he wouldn't have gone as far as to say he 'saved' his friend. Kennith Simmons did not just 'save' people.
But...he was happy that Stephanie was okay.
Kennith tinkered with the television over the next week, trying to figure out just how he accidentally 'hypnotized' Stephanie. He managed to find out how he had gotten the COLORBARS on screen--that was a matter of simply changing the source--but all the details to the effect were a blur.
An experiment was in order.
"Trust me, Greg. If I figure this out...well, I don't know what'll exactly happen, but it will be BIG!"
Greg Hoffman looked down at Kennith through his glasses and calmly took a drag from his cigarette. "Kay."
Kennith smiled, now fully convinced that he made the right decision for a test subject, and beckoned the high school dropout into his garage--yes, he could have brought one of his bullies to endure any (possibly negative) effects of the COLORBARS...but if things went differently this time and the supposed bully ended up unscathed, it could have meant trouble for Kennith. Any random classmate wouldn't have done, either--they probably wouldn't have trusted Kennith enough to participate in this 'experiment', and besides, Kennith himself wouldn't have trusted them around his precious technology. Greg seemed like an ideal choice because of his calm, unworried demeanor, and if anything happened to him...well, hopefully nothing too severe or unexplainable would happen.
"Just outta curiosity, kid, where're your parents?"
Kennith scoffed as he plugged in a yellow cord to the television set. "Who cares? They don't care what I'm doing--they don't pay attention to me at all unless it's to use me as their servant or insult me. So embarrassed to have me...wasn't my fault I was born. They're probably staring at their own TV right now. Pay more attention to it than to me."
"That's rough, dude." Another drag. "Well, least they won't be interruptin' us."
The boy didn't respond, apparently completely focused on his machinery. He knew Greg wouldn't push any further into the subject--the latter already had knowledge of what went on in the Simmons' household from what Kennith had told him during his trips to the gas station (Greg's workplace and seemingly his home). Besides, it wasn't like either of them were going to tell any adults what they were doing.
After a double-check that every part was in its place, Kennith turned to Greg with a mischievous grin upon his face and a pale green button in hand. "Are you ready?"
"Mmhm. What's with the button, though?"
"To turn the TV off. Last time, the light was so bright that I had trouble finding the off switch, but I'm gonna avoid that scenario this time." Kennith carefully set the button on his tool table and patted it lovingly as if it was his precious child. "Now, what I need you to do is...just watch the TV."
"That's it." The boy opened his mouth to go on...but really, did Greg need to know any more?
Apparently not. "'Kay. I can do that." That was Kennith's favorite part of Greg--he didn't question things.
Kennith spun back around and got ready to push the button, giving it one last hopeful look. Maybe this test could actually reveal something...and Kennith would be hailed a genius for discovering it.
Ha, then he'd see how the bullies and his parents treated him! Maybe...maybe he could even hypnotize them himself...
He put the thought aside...and determinedly depressed the button.
On the screen, as clear as can be, a colorful display flickers--Greg stared with wide eyes, walking ever-so-slightly closer as the screen flared faster and faster.
"What do you see, Greg?" That was not the slightest trace of malice in Kennith's voice...was it?
The older teenager didn't respond, fully immersed in the action of the COLORBARS.
"Greg, tell me what you see. What do you feel? Greg, can you hear me?"
Silence from Greg...then:
"I hear you. I see...you."
What was that supposed to mean? Kennith tried something else...
"Greg...back up from the screen."
The other did so immediately, still gazing fixedly at the television.
Wow...it truly did seem like hypnosis...
"Um, uh...now, um, say something!"
"Something..." Greg's voice was creepily monotone...
Something was very off...but the teenage prodigy was getting closer to the answer...
"Spin around in the opposite direction!" Kennith didn't even bother asking nicely this time.
Obediently, the gas station worker spun around and around and around and around and around until his controller demanded him to stop.
"Wow..." Kennith was amazed--it almost seemed like Greg was being forced to obey his every word.
This...this was groundbreaking...
He could make Greg do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted! Well...Kennith supposed there probably was a limit--he would need to keep his victim staring at the screen. But otherwise...
Ideas pop up like fireworks in his head.
He...he could brainwash his parents...
He...could control his bullies' every move...
He...could make the other kids understand how he felt every day...
He...wouldn't feel the need to cut anymore...
He...he could control it all.
The loud, abrupt static of the television broke through Kennith's megalomaniac thoughts--he mercifully pressed his green button, finally setting his acquaintance free from the COLORBARS's grasp.
Greg blinked rapidly in confusion just like Stephanie had.
"So, how do you feel?" Kennith suddenly had developed a smug swagger; even when looking down at the scrawny kid, the older teenager could feel an essence of...something. Power? Greed?
Whatever. It wasn't anything to worry about--the kid was just proud of his experiment. Although Greg couldn't exactly recall what had just happened...
"I feel...ummm...I dunno. Kinda dizzy? I don't really know what went on..."
"What do you mean?" The words came out much more demanding than Kennith had intended them to be.
"That's just it--I don't know, bro." Greg searched his pockets for his cigarette packet. "It was like...I remember you telling me to watch the TV, and then you pressed the button...and then it's all a blur. Like static or something."
Kennith just stood there in shocked silence.
"Give me one of those. I'm gonna need it."
Greg handed the younger teenager a cigarette and lit it for him--Kennith's brain was ruminating at top speed.
So it was true. He could hypnotize people...
It wasn't just an illusion...
Kennith inhaled the nicotine deeply, meditatively.
He had power...so much power...
He could control...anyone...
Everyone would bow to him...
Everyone would feel what he felt...
Everyone would obey his tiniest commands...
Everyone...would regret how they treated him...
"I can do...anything."
"Hm?" Greg hummed.
"...Oh, nothing. Um, I think you're free to go." Kennith paused. "Uh...thanks for doing this."
"No problem, kid. Glad I could help."
With that, the older teenager began his way out of the garage...but just before he was out the door, Kennith called his name.
"Don't watch any TV the day after tomorrow. Like, none at all. Something...something is going to happen."
Greg raised a single eyebrow, but of course didn't question the statement.
Maybe if he had, Kennith wouldn't be where he is now.
"'Kay. I won't. See you around, little dude."
Kennith had a plan.
Kennith has a plan.
Maybe Stephanie could have stopped him...and she had tried...
But Kennith doesn't want to think of that part of the story right now.
Stephanie isn't part of his book anymore. Just a forgotten character on torn-out pages.
Everyone will bow to him...
Everyone will feel what he feels...
Everyone will obey his tiniest commands...
Everyone...will regret how they treated him...
It's time for C-O-L-O-R.
Kennith with expert hands turns the frequency knob on his television set and finishes setting up his microphone.
He just needs to get the exact wavelength...
Kennith's voice comes straight from the television channel...and there he is, on the screen.
For them to see.
He's officially on-air.
The boy takes a moment to bask in the spotlight and stare at his smirking screen self.
The feeling is beautiful...as beautiful as his COLORBARS...
He hopes his parents are watching. Ha, no doubt that they are!
And they'll be watching for hours and hours...
"Turn up the volume, folks. Listen to the words I say, now~" Kennith's voice is dripping with vindictiveness.
He spins around like a runway model showing off the newest fashion--in this case, his flamboyantly-colored feminine clothing. No one to make fun of it now!
Then...his tone turns darker than the blackest TV screen.
"You're a fucking idiot, and static's pouring out of your mouth."
"Don't you see how you've treated me? Don't you UNDERSTAND?!"
"Well..." Kennith lets out a wicked laugh. "Well...NOW YOU WILL!"
*Crash!* He slams the button...
...and COLORBARS fill the screen.
Beautiful, bright, brainwashing COLORBARS...
It's the funniest of jokes, the most comical of pranks, the most entertaining of all stunts!
"Soon we'll televise our C-O-L-O-R! Now leave me blinded and erase our memories!"
Kennith falls into a fit of vengeful giggles once more.
"Soon you'll be a part of C-O-L-O-R! We leave you nauseous...and it changes everything!"
He dances around his room as if it's a stage, as if the televisions behind him are spotlights...as if the world is his audience.
"And in a moment, you'll notice nothing's quite the same when my COLORBARS are--"
*ZZZZZZZZZZZZZPTTTTT* The sudden static scares the boy. "What the hell--?!"
The television flickers vigorously, menacingly...then the screen shuts off.
And Kennith is officially off-air.
The boy cringes in anxiety at the ever-amplifying rush of static, static, static...it's all becoming dark...like a television abruptly shut off...
"What...it...no..." Kennith's thoughts are as disconnected as the frequency. As the disturbing noise and the blackness draw closer, he clings to the last thing he has left--his COLORBARS television...
S̷̬̟̻̖̿̏͆̑̀͑̈́ơ̶͎̺̠͍̻̳̈́̈͐̌̌͂͒͝ ̵̧̢̢̼͔̗̻̳͇̀̉̍̔̓̈́ţ̴̙̺̥̘͚̟͊́͝h̶̛̰͎͍͎̫̤̻̯̦̲̟̆͂̓̉͑̅̿̋̚̚ȋ̷̭͔͑̌̄̑̈́̉̚͝s̶̠̙̜̗̥̀̿̐̽͌͆̇̊̆̑̕ ̷̧͕͔̝̮͎̗͔͚͍̉̔̈́̎̓̏ĩ̸̢̤͈̗̰̉̌̄͗̎͘͜s̴̳̤̙̳̜̗͎̟̭̒̇͑̈́̓̃̈́͝ ̸͈̪̱̝̝̞̿̉̔̽̇̓̿̎̈́͌ͅh̴̟̫̥̙̀̎́͘ơ̸̩͓̭̟̏͌̽͒͂̂̀ẉ̴̡̌̍͘ ̵̨͖̦͉͎͙̎̄̌̄̏̂̕͝ḩ̷̨̝͕͍̘͆̀̊͑̕ȅ̶̡͍̲̪̣̠̯̯͚̑̾̉͠'̴̧̭̹̖͔͈̩̗͖̓͊̈̎͂̈́l̷̢̡̻͕̱͕͙̭̘͓̮͌̎̔̀̾̓̌͘l̷̠̞̠̭̠̾̉͌̓̆͑̀͐͋́ ̸̢͚̥̝͍͎̮̣̠͓̟͑̏͐̌̆͋̕d̵̢̥̀̇ͅi̸͎̤̜̰̳̝͒͒̓̾̆̇͐̐e̷̹̻͖͇̩̅̽͌̐͐̒̅͝ͅ.̴̢̧͖̹̘̐̏̒̿̀̑̚͠͠.̷̡̜̘̰͖͚͊́͆̍.̸̞̥͕͔͉̅̆͛́͘͠ͅ
The world's gone silent...
New York City, New York
Kennith opens his tearful eyes.
And doesn't recognize where he's at.
It's still dark...the boy rolls over on the television...
That isn't the ceiling of his bedroom above him.
The teenager sits up fiercely, his pulse racing faster than the former fierce flicker of the COLORBARS.
Everything...looks so...different. So...wrong...
This isn't his house.
He races to what he thinks is the dark apartment's window.
This isn't his city.
This isn't his state.
Why is everything so wrong? Why are there so many people walking on the filthy sidewalk? Why do the little black cars look so...ancient? Why are they driving so frustratingly slowly, like tiny dark snails on the road?
Where are the screens? Where is the technology?
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH EVERYTHING?!"
Kennith slides to the ground with heavy breaths and tries to understand the situation...but how can he understand?!
Is...did he die, and is this hell? The boy had never believed in those types of places--heaven and limbo and the like. But if this is hell...why does it seem so much like earth? But so unlike it at the same time?
Kennith has two choices. He can sit here in the fetal position against the wall and panic about the circumstances...or he can get up and see if there is a way to figure them out.
There really isn't a choice.
Gathering his courage, the boy rises from the dirty apartment floor and searches for a way out...like a door...
No. Never mind exploring this creepy wasteland of a house; he turns around and opens the window.
"Fuck it all, fuck it all, fuck it all..." *Cht*. The rushing cool breeze sends shivers down Kennith's spine--he stands on the sill and prepares to... "Fuck it--AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
*PTT* The sidewalk is cold and hard and not at all a soft landing cushion. The boy groans and just lies there.
"Kid?" Something pokes Kennith. "Kid, are you all right?"
Kennith would laugh if he had the energy--no, no, no, no, he is not all right!
A hand helps the other up from the still-not-comfortable concrete. "Are you okay?"
"Ugh...noooo..." The boy lifts his head to look at the stranger before him--he's a thirty-something man with a small mustache and shiny blonde hair that falls slightly over his blue eyes. "Um...thanks for, uh...yeah..." Kennith doesn't even know what he wants to say.
Apparently, the stranger understands. "Of course. You think I'd just leave a kid that fell from the sky to suffer on the cement?"
Now Kennith knows even less of what to say; big amber eyes stare in wondrous confusion at the stranger. "I--er--"
"It's quite all right, my dear boy." The blonde man flashes a brilliant smile and chuckles. "I too would be stunned silent if I met a great celebrity on the street."
"G--h--but--" The teenager takes a deep breath and starts over. "I...I don't know who you are. I don't know where I am, or how I got here, or what happened to..."
Kennith remembers his COLORBARS television...oh nononono! It's still back in the apartment he woke up in!
What if someone finds it?! No!
Kennith shoves the blonde stranger out of the way. "GOTTAGOTHANKSBYE!"
He races to the front of the dark apartment building--there is a door! A flight of stairs later...and aw, he's safe with his COLORBARS again.
Kennith hugs and nuzzles the television, and a great relief washes over him as he realizes that the green button is still with him--he kisses it gratefully.
"Wow, you really care about your machines, son. It's quite inspiring."
The boy whips around to see the stranger from the street watching passively from the doorway.
"Wha--why--YOU FOLLOWED ME!" He shrinks back against the wall, COLORBARS television still in loving arms. "GET AWAY FROM ME, CREEP!"
The blonde man merely smirks in response, his calm smugness bothering Kennith immensely. "I think that you might be confused, son--this is my house, and you're the one trespassing. I do wonder how you managed to bring in that strange television without me noticing."
Kennith flushes in embarrassment. Wait, so he had somehow teleported into this guy's home?! "This is YOUR place? Damn, bitch, you live like this?"
Now it's the blonde's turn to flush; the teenager mirrors the other's former smirk.
It, however, does not take longer for the man to regain his composure. "Well, I don't think you're in a place to judge my taste. What are you doing in my apartment?"
"I--I don't know! I just GOT here!"
"Son, lying isn't going to help." A pause. "Not in this case, anyway. Now, tell me, how did--"
"I DON'T KNOW! I was at my own place, and then...and then..." Kennith squeezes his COLORBARS screen protectively. "...this thing malfunctioned...and it all went black...and I woke up here! I-I know it sounds like a bunch of baloney, but it's the truth!"
"Do you have a home, son?" It's impossible to tell if the man believes the teenager.
"Yes. Upper Peninsula, Michigan."
"...And you somehow got from there to here in a matter of hours?"
"Yes...n't. Where am I, exactly?"
"New York City."
Kennith's jaw drops. How could his television have brought him to NEW YORK CITY?!
"I--but--why--" A thought hits him. "What...what year is it?"
Kennith once again is frozen in shock.
"Are you sure that you're okay, son?"
"Stop calling me son!" the boy snaps. "And no, I'm not okay. I don't know what happened or how I got here--I just want to get back home."
"...Well...I don't know if or how I can help you." The blonde walks ever-so-slightly closer with a puzzled expression. "If I know your name, maybe I can find your parents. I'll start: I am Joey Drew, renowned animator and owner of Joey Drew Studios."
Clearly, this guy's got an ego bigger than Kennith's hopelessness. "...Kennith. Kennith Simmons."
"Great, thank you. I'll ask the police if they recognize your name, and--"
"No, don't! It...I don't think it will work. And I don't want to go to the police."
"That's really the only way I know how to help you, Kenny."
"Kennith. And no...it won't work. It can't work! I'm not from this century!"
Joey's thick eyebrows shoot up. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that I'm from 1987." Even Kennith is having difficulty processing what he's trying to say. "I...I think I time-travelled. Yes, that's it--you have to believe me! Just, um, ask me anything about the future! I can tell you about the wars or the technologies or the people or--"
He stops, realizing that it might not be of any use to explain. Would he believe someone if they insisted they were from the future?
Joey sighs. This kid might have hit his head a little too hard off the sidewalk.
But...at the same time...he seems quite sincere in his story...
It could still be a lie, though--someone can sound sincere without actually being so.
Joey knows a lot about that.
"I don't know, Kennith."
"I don't know, either. But if you let me, I'll get out of your house and try to find a way back home. To my time. And you can totally forget about me."
Any other person might just let the boy go along.
But Joey has a different plan.
This boy...this character...is so interesting, so different. Joey has to admit he's an instant fan.
This Kennith...could play a role in his beloved story.
If he can just convince him to.
"I don't want to do that. At least let me provide you something while you're in this wretched state. I'll find you a place to stay safely--a place that isn't my house. And maybe...maybe you could do something for me."
Kennith notes that Joey seems to be eyeing the COLORBARS television; he releases it and stands in front. "What could you possibly need?"
"Well, as I said, you obviously have an affinity for that little contraption of yours. Maybe you could show me what it does? And if we can't use that...you could still put your talents to use at my studio, even if it's just temporarily. I could even pay you if you wanted." Joey crouches down to meet eye-level with Kennith. "There is a place for you at Joey Drew Studios, if you just take the chance. So what do you say?"
Kennith doesn't say anything at first.
He doesn't want or plan to be stuck here that long, that's for sure. And showing off his COLORBARS might be risky, especially in this setting...
But how else will he get home? If the COLORBARS brought him here, surely they should be able to take him back...
And if this Joey guy could help him...Kennith might just be willing to let him in on a few of his technology secrets.
Then, once he got home...he could try the COLORBARS again. Correctly, that is--no more time-travelling.
Just his own show...and his own story. Maybe he could even tell it to his audience.
"You have a deal. But I don't need to be paid--I just need you to listen to me and watch my COL--I mean, and watch my special TV."
It is all too easy. Joey and Kennith know it.
"That will work. I look forward to learning more about your character, Kennith."
#YAYYYY IT'S FANFIC TIME BABYYYYYY!! #BLAH I WOULD SCREAM IN THE TAGS BUT I HAVE GOT TO GOOOO #self-harm tw #mention of self-harm tw #smoking tw#flashbacks tw#hypnosis tw#brainwashing tw #mind control tw #manipulation tw #ghost and pals #ghost vocaloid#kennith simmons#batim #Bendy and the Ink Machine #joey drew#colorbars#broadcast illusion#crossover #broadcast illusion of living #greg hoffman#Stephanie glassSours: https://www.tumbral.com/tag/bendy%20screaming
.Sound's produced for ''Bendy'' Ink Demon (Bendy And The Ink Machine Chapters 1 \u0026 2)
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