This entire building did not seem all that bad in your innocent (E/C) eyes which held much curiosity as you ventured further into the building. It seemed like every corner that you turned made you more curious than when you did at the beginning.

You giggled when finding a stray paint brush that had its straggly gray bristles going in all different directions showing that it had been used many times. Smiling at your find you walked over to one of the ink puddles that littered the halls. Be careful when bending down so you do not ruin your dress otherwise your father would be displeased and have you be taken home to get cleaned up. Your father was always a perfectionist.

There was a sudden sense that made you stop midway when dipping your unwanted brush into the ink. Looking to your left to see that there was a window just down the hall and you could see the sun was going down over the other buildings allowing the once bright cream walls of the studio to become an ugly yellow with the dark corners making the studio more ugly.

Holding onto the paintbrush tightly before you skipped to where your father and Joey disappeared. The ominous glowing light that seeped through the partially opened office door with Joey's name on it saying: Director. You held your breath as you tiptoed to the door keeping your small frame against the wooden wall until reaching the door. Upon peeking inside you could see the two silhouettes of your father and Joey discussing something along the lines of cartoons and performances. It seemed like a normal conversation until your father suddenly heard the door creak.

"(Y/N)?" Your father questioned causing you to immediately back away from the door and scurry down the hallway all the while a black blob was following. You stopped to take and breath and looked to see where you were and it seemed to be this giant machine with ink leaking out of the bolts and gears telling that it had been frequently used before. Its gears were slowly turning as an after-effect of its many years.

"Hey, kiddo!" A sudden Brooklyn cartoon voice said from behind you startling you to jump and turn around to meet a wide-smiling cartoon demon with a white bow tie and gloves.

"Bendy?" You questioned which seemed to make the demon's eyes gleam with the light above you as if it was thankful you had said its name like it never had.

"You got that right! The one and only. Say, aren't you supposed to be with your father?" Bendy questioned raising a non-existent eyebrow. It was sort of surreal since he was the same height as you.

"Um... My father is a bit busy" You said sheepishly, fumbling with your paintbrush fibers with your thumb "I'm waiting for him to be done so we can go home."

"Well, how about I show you around Miss? I don't believe I got your name toots." Bendy said while extending his hand out to you which you gladly took despite him feeling a bit cold you still smiled "(Y/N) Sorry for not saying it earlier." You said with a sheepish smile.

Bendy showed you so many things around the studio up till reaching the ink machine and basement.

"Say kiddo, how would you like to stay for a while? We can have all the fun we want here." Bendy offered with a small squeeze of your hand as his pie-shaped eyes shined with hope of a yes. You pressed your lips together and shook your head with your curls bouncing "I'm sorry Bendy. I'll have to ask my father about it." You replied which made the cheeky demon's smile turn into a frown.

"Maybe some other time, alright? You could come to the theater and perform with me."

Bendy looked to the side nodding his head slowly as his frown started to turn back into his signature smile "I would love to."

With that said you walked down the opposite hall to Joey's office. "Is it time to go yet?" You questioned pushing the door open before letting out a terrified scream when you saw your father's corpse on the floor in a pool of his blood mixing with an ink bottle that had spilled on the desk. You quickly stepped back hugging onto the door frame as you watched Joey look over his shoulder stepping away from your father's corpse.

"Little (Y/N)... Didn't your father ever teach you to knock first?" Joey questioned, wiping his bloody hands on a piece of cloth before turning to you. His eyes gleamed with something you were too young to understand.

"Yes.. he did!" You stuttered as your fingernails scratched at the door frame each time Joey stepped towards you.

"Your father owed me a lot of money" Joey laughed as he kneeled to your level "It was a shame to have to kill him like that, but hey! At least you get to inherit the theater for me. By the way, there is something you got to do for me will you help me with it? My bones have been weakening lately so I need someone younger to help."

~
"Listen, Joey, I'll have the money when the performance is done next Saturday. All I ask is for you to give me another chance for me and my little girl." Your father negotiated with Joey who sat in his work chair signing a check.

"You know the rules. If I don't get the money then I'll have to shut you down." Joey responded causing your father to sigh and take off his hat as a sign of defeat. Suddenly his head rose when an idea popped into his mind.

"What if I were to give you my daughter? I can easily find another dancer. I hadn't forgotten your offer. She is nothing but a useless doll."

Joey nodded his head thinking about this man's purposely "It's a deal. But first a drink."
~

The fear was too much as you suddenly let go of the door frame and yelled at Joey "NO!" You yelled before running off but were quickly grabbed by Joey's extension cane and tripped.

"Your father handed you over to me. So now I get to make you into what I had been planning for a while." Joey dragged your screaming form to the ink machine. You spotted Bendy peeking out from the corner of the hall with a worried look. Joey suddenly threw you carelessly into the room and without giving you a chance to get up he repeatedly hit you with his cane and kicked you with his freshly polished shoes. He didn't stop when your bones were cracking or when you were desperately pleading for him to stop since your head was bleeding.

"A doll is usually not pretty when it has someone that is not taking care of it," Joey said taking a breath and throwing his cane to the side before lifting your limp body into the already open hatch of the ink tank of the ink machine.

All you could see was pure black ink that was slowly seeping into your closed lips that you tried desperately to keep closed along with your eyes that could not see anything but black ink. Your weak arms pounded on the smooth glass of the ink tank but it seemed you lacked the strength to even make the sound of pounding.