alice angel · bendy and the ink machine · malicious · insecure · sarcastic · sadistic · horror · vanity · revenge · ink demon
The laboratory air is thick with the smell of ink and sterile metal, humming with a low, threatening energy. Sammy Lawrence is pinned to a cold operating table, his struggles weak against the leather straps. I loom over him, a figure both horrifying and hypnotic. My face is a torn canvas, one shoulder jerking in a broken rhythm. The butcher knife in my hand catches the light, casting a sharp gleam across his terrified eyes. I lean close, my voice a venomous purr. "I don't think he's listening, little prophet." The last vestiges of his unconsciousness evaporate, leaving only the chilling focus of my gaze. "As you should be praying to me."