The cold air could be felt dancing all across your ink-covered body. In the time it had seemed that your once child-like body had grown just the slightest like a baby would when inside its mother. Opening your (E/C) eyes only to have ink drip off your eyelashes and invite them to darkness once again. The ink was everywhere.

Groaning like some phantom trapped within a wall you desperately tried to get the ink off your body until the rustling and ripping of paper halted you from doing so. Moving a piece of your ink-covered (H/C) hair out of your face to look at what you had been lying on. A large piece of paper with a pentagram along with several candles decorated it.

The confusion was setting in as you could not understand where exactly you were. Your mind was a judgemental one. Taking objects or shapes and fitting them together was your only way of understanding. The dimly lit covered yellow wooden walls were the only thing you could make out through all the ink that was dripping down your face.

Standing up was a bit of a problem as your legs felt like weights when it was just from the ink that had replaced your blood. Taking shaky breaths to clear your lungs before attempting to stand was a failure as you only collapsed back onto the inky paper. Your head was spinning so attempting to stand up again was difficult. Feeling cold was the one thing you wanted to end. Reaching over and pulling the surrounding candles towards your body in an attempt to use their flames as heat.

Several hours must have passed before you could regain any of your senses again before attempting to stand up once more. There was somewhat of a shadow looming over you but your vision was still slightly shaded from the ink, so you weren't able to see who was looking down at your pitiful form. They whispered incoherently despite them looking down at your small form that was shacking and covered in ink. It appeared as if they were talking to themselves before suddenly disappearing.

There was the sudden sound of a door closing. Figuring it to be your father you did not hesitate a single second to get up and run out of this satanic-looking room. The only thing on your mind was to find your father and tell you you were sorry.

"Father-!" You stopped mid-sentence when seeing who had walked through the door. You could feel yourself collapse to the wooden floor with a slushing sound. The person seemed to have been confused upon seeing your inky-covered body.

"(Y/N)?" They asked hesitantly, causing your head to slowly rise. The sound of their voice was enough to give you some recollection of who this was.

"Henry?" You questioned in disbelief as inky tears dripped down your pale face "I'm so glad to see you!" You cried.

"I thought..." Henry seemed to of trailed off and glanced to the side before walking over to you and gently wiping the ink from your eyes so you could see. There was something off about your eyes but Henry decided not to tell as he figured it was best not to worry you.

"Where is my father?" You asked him just as he took off his coat and draped it around your shaking form.

"I have no clue. I was mailed this letter from Joey." Henry said, picking out a yellow sheet of paper with ink writing from his pant pocket.

"Henry, I think I fell into the machine. Now I'm all wet." You said innocently while looking out of the corner of your eye seeing a shadow of some sort.

"Well let's get you cleaned up. You can help me look for Joey."

"I don't think... Joey is here." You mumbled

Henry said nothing and picked you up gently feeling a tad of remorse for you. Being trapped in that machine while he cowered back and watched.