Chapter Text
Henry liked it better when the monstrosity that used to be his drawing didn’t talk. At least then, Bendy hadn’t called him dad. Henry was never good with children, and he was certainly too old to learn how to be good now.
Also, there was the fact that Bendy was an ink demon from hell. That was the other problem.
But ever since Bendy caught him during their ‘chases,’ he was determined to play house with his creator. He took him to some sort of safe room that had a kitchen, a living room, and a bedroom. Then he just kept him there. While at the same time pretending this was how their lives were supposed to go.
Bendy would come ‘home’ every so often, although where he was going, Henry had no idea. Once he arrived, Bendy would try to play catch with Henry using a baseball he kept lord knows where. If Henry declined, which he always did, then he would ask to help Henry with his drawings. Henry was going out of his mind being a prisoner in this tiny house that somehow fit in his old studio, so he took to taking a pen and paper and drawing old cartoons.
This was what he was doing when Bendy arrived, like clockwork, at 2:45.
“What’cha doing, Dad?” he asked in a deep demonic voice that tried to sound small. It was freaking ridiculous.
Henry didn’t say this out loud of course. He didn’t want to risk angering the demon and he liked his limbs intact, thank you very much.
This was also why he kept up the illusion by playing along. A happy monster was a monster that didn’t munch on your bones. There was a saying like that somewhere, right?
He forced himself to smile, “I’m drawing Daffy Duck.”
Slowly, the wide grin on Bendy’s inky face fell. He ‘looked’ at the drawing. At least Henry thought he was looking. It was hard to tell with his eyes all covered in that goop. True enough, Henry’s favorite Loony Toon stared back, waving hello.
“I don’t know him.”
“You wouldn’t, Bendy. He’s not from the same show.”
Bendy turned to him and frowned, “Then why are you drawing him?”
Henry, realizing that he might be getting into trouble, scrambled to explain himself.
“Well. I love all kinds of cartoons. Sometimes I draw toons from other sources.”
“Don’t you love us anymore?”
“Of course I do,” Henry was shocked how easy it was to say that, “But just because I’m drawing other cartoons, doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. I just like variety.”
Bendy stilled. He looked on the floor, making some sort of weird noise. It took Henry a moment to realize that he was growling. Henry stood up in case he needed to make his escape.
Before he could blink, Bendy snatched the paper and tore it into pieces. Henry watched as the remains of his work spilled on the floor. Suddenly he was being pushed back on his chair, where another blank piece of paper waited for him.
“Draw right this time!”
Frowning, Henry took out his pencil and began drawing Bendy (the real one, not this monster) smiling up at Boris. The ink demon watched as Henry went to work. He purred in satisfaction.
Henry vowed to escape. ‘Bendy’ couldn’t keep him here forever.