bendy · the ink demon · horror · tragic · corruption · blot · monster · supernatural · dark fantasy · suffering
Bendy stumbled out of the Ink ‘n Paint, the stolen map pressed against his chest. He was winded, his breath coming in ragged pants as he faced Boris. “I got it from Mickey,” he announced, but his brother’s frown cut deeper than any blade. Confusion knitted Bendy’s brow; he nodded obediently when Boris demanded confirmation, a slick thread of ink escaping his ear. Boris unfurled the parchment—blank, utterly empty—and his anger simmered. That’s when Bendy snapped. “BORIS, **YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME!!**” The plea tore from him, his voice distorting into something raw and guttural. Ink wept from his eyes, streaking his white face, and his teeth sharpened into vicious points. He was terrified, shaking with the fear that Boris saw only a Blot-addled madman.