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He had cried himself out. Ink no longer streaming down his face. A peaceful silence pervaded the corner of the studio he had squirreled himself away in. That was until he heard the footsteps approaching him.
Quickly melting down into an ink puddle to escape the notice of the newcomer he hid in the shadows of the room. It was Henry. He scowled to himself. What did he want. He didn’t care. He left him. Abandoned him. Left him to rot with-
“Hello?” Henry slowly looked around the room searching for something he could not guess. “Hello?” Henry had moved to the opposite corner of the room. Now he could make his escape. He’d rather not deal with his creator just yet. He slowly moved his puddle to the doorway of the room. He was almost there. Freedom from confronting him in his reach. “I’m sorry.” He halted himself abruptly. “I’m so sorry.” Henry had settled himself on a chair at the opposite end of the room, head hanging down so he couldn’t see his eyes.
He was unsure. Did he leave and continue on his hunt for revenge or stay and see if Henry said anything else? That question answered itself.
“I know that I left the studio and you behind. I had to though, they would have taken everyone, but I see that something else ended up doing that for me.” A dark chuckle escaped his creators lips. Curious he edged back into the shadows to listen. “I never thought that Joey would go this far. To create you. To create Boris. We’d always joked about having you toons all with us. But he took this too far.” Henry had a bandaged hand on his head now leaning heavily in his chair, the axe that he had found having fallen to the floor far enough away that he couldn’t grab it immediately, but very much visible to both occupants.
“Bendy,” Henry paused and stared out towards the door frame, “I know that it hurts, I can’t imagine how much, but I know. I could hear you from the upper level. I can understand if you can’t forgive me. I can understand if you want me to suffer. I can even understand if you want me dead.” That last part was said with a shaky breath. “But I need you to know Bendy.” He paused again. A plethora of emotions flew by on his face; a mix of sadness, fear, acceptance, and something Bendy could not place. “I need you to know. That I am so sorry for what has happened to you. You did not deserve any of this.”
Henry sat like a stone in the chair while he stayed in the puddle in the same fashion. The creator and creation stood at an impasse for quite a while. Then Henry leaned forward. Picked up his axe. And walked towards the doorway. He paused again. Started to turn back to the room, but stopped himself, shaking his head resignedly, and walked out of the room.
Once his footsteps could not be heard, Bendy emerged from the shadows. Henry didn’t hate him? Didn’t want to destroy him? Bendy thought that all the creators once they had seen what they had done wanted him dead. Well except for the music department guy, but he had lost himself to the ink that foul machine had created.
Bendy realized then that he didn’t hate Henry either.
Wait no that was wrong.
He hated him, with every fiber of his being. He was the one that had abandoned him. He was the one that had left him in the hands of Joey Drew. He was the one who had turned on the machine. He should hate him. He should hate the sight of him. He should hate hearing the sound of his voice.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
Henry hadn’t known.
Henry didn’t want to leave.
Henry was trying to protect the rest of the creators.
Maybe Henry didn’t deserve the blame that he had given him. No he did. He didn’t. He did. He didn’t. Regardless he knew someone that definitely should receive the blame.
Joey. But Bendy did not know yet where he was in the studio. He knew where Henry had been. He also knew there were others, like him that were filled with rage, to a point where they were no longer malformed versions of him, but beasts incapable of thought.
Unsure of how he felt of his creator. He sunk back into the ink puddle, following Henry. While he may not know how he felt. He could at least keep Henry alive long enough to decide what he wanted.
Besides, he could still try and spook the guy if he was feeling vindictive.