Chapter Text
Chapter 10: Recovery and Realisation
Sammy could only stare down in horror at Norman’s lifeless body, laying limply on the floor. His body suddenly felt so weak at the sight in front of him that he felt his knees collapse underneath him. He fell on the floor with a thud crouching over Norman’s body.
“Nor…ma..n..” he weakly croaked out, unable to truly accept the reality in front of him.
Norman couldn’t be dead, he couldn't be! But that was the undeniable truth right in front of and staring at him in the face. Sammy’s face felt hot as he now had fresh tears rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto the dead man's body that he was mourning.
But Sammy’s mourning was abruptly interrupted by a white hot pain flaring up in his neck as he immediately put a hand up to the source of his discomfort. A spot on the side of his neck. He must have gotten injured earlier when Norman saved… him….
“No! I shouldn’t be thinking about that right now!” he scolded himself as he shook his head.
Norman’s death couldn't be in vain. It was soul crushing to see a friend, alive a few moments ago, now lying motionless in front of him but he knew he couldn't mourn forever considering the hell hole of a studio they were stuck in currently with danger seemingly around every corner. He would have to focus on the now and everyone that was still alive and keep them alive. They would get out of here,... for Norman.
With his steeled resolve in mind he stood up. He removed his hand from his neck, seeing as the pain had subsided for now, to wipe his tears away. He wouldn't let anyone see those, especially Wally. He knew he wouldn’t tease him considering the circumstances, but just to be safe. You can never be too careful with what people will exclusively remember.
As he was removing his hand from his face he noticed the palm area of his hand, which looked like someone had smeared fresh ink over it. Strange, he thought. He hadn't fallen in any puddles or anything remotely close to any kind of mass of ink since he cleaned his hands in that bathroom, he definitely knew that, and even if he had it would've been dry by now. They were clean last time he checked, and last time he checked was before he touched his neck to quell the pain there. And that was absolutely fairly recently.
Wait.. touched… his neck?
Last time he checked there also wasn't any fresh ink on his neck or anywhere remotely near that spot, and the other option was that if he was injured there, that would be ink bleeding from his wound, the former he could definitely confirm himself and the latter was obviously not a viable option. Last time he checked, humans 100% didn’t bleed ink. But.. what if… He knew it was a stupid idea but he brought his hand his back up again to the spot where his neck had hurt before and then brought his hand back to his view again. It was even more soaked with that vile ink than before!
As the realisation hit him, Sammy frantically snapped his vision to where his hand had been moments before. His strange concerns were not unfounded as he looked in his peripheral vision, his usual pale skin was covered in contrasting strange black veins that seemed to stretch from his ink-leaking injury.
That is definitely not normal.
Definitely definitely not normal.
That couldn't be right. Ink doesn't bleed from wounds, blood does! That’s the most obvious thing ever in the history of humanity! Some blob of ink must have just splashed on and gotten around the wound and covered it, giving the effect of the bleeding of ink, that's all that could've happened… right..?
But the wound was too tiny for that! Even if that was the case it didn't explain why it was doing the weird veiny thingy?! Don’t tell him the ink was infecting him somehow?! Was that how all those other employees ended up as those strange twisted toons? Was he going to end up like that then…?
No, he didn't want that! Granted no one would, but still!
His panicked thoughts increased as he suddenly had a shocking and terrible thought. If the ink infects you through your wounds then… Norman! His head whipped to the dead body of his friend. He forced himself to look at the piece of wood sticking through the man’s throat. He grimaced but felt a wave of relief wash over him, strangely enough, at the sight of a crimson red flowing from Norman’s neck.
He was glad. No one deserved to be turned into those creatures, dead or alive. But his fear only increased as even though confirmation was right in front of him, he could only think of the worst possible things that could happen. In fact, he was so caught up in his panicked thoughts that he didn't notice the strange inky veins spread further along his neck and closer and closer towards his head. Nor the veins on Norman's chest spreading up to his neck and head as well. Pooling crimson tinged the slightest and most unnoticeable black hue.
At that moment he heard something, was that people talking? They were very quietly whispering. Had someone else gotten up as well?
But then, in that same moment, the whispers grew more booming and erupted in Sammy's hearing. Everything seemed impossibly louder all of a sudden.
The individual creak of the floorboards.
The rattling of the pipes. They were calling out to him..
The screams of agony?
Whose were theywere they his?
His head burst into a terriblefreeing pain. Worse than his neck. Worse than anything.
It hurt so much. He clutched his head in agony and keeled over on the floor. What was happening? He couldn't think straight. The pain was too much.
The whispering was getting louder. It was so loud.
The voices, they were calling out to him again... telling him to free himself from the agonising pain coursing through his body...
No! He couldn't go, Norman... Norman needed him!
But the pipes dripping with his saving grace were calling him... he must go...
NO! HE CoULDN'T Go ANYWHERE! EvERYONE... everyone...
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Ah... who was there againwas anyone even still here?
It didn't matter... his saviour was calling him...
And when he answered their call and was swept into their final loving embrace...
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… he would be set free…
And that was Sammy’s last thought before his world turned dark.
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Joey had been sitting there at his desk the entire time watching the unusual situation unfold. He must admit, he was most intrigued by the two bright white lights rapidly turning. One seeping into a dark grey while the other was almost black. The shapes that were forming, one seemed to be forming a mere side character but the other.. They didn't seem to be forming toon nor a strange half humanoid ink creature… more like a combination of both. Or maybe it could be something else entirely! The possibilities were endless he supposed with his ink after all. Even then, this effect hasn’t happened before… How intriguing indeed…
He supposed he could use the one turning darkest to his advantage. He couldn't get a hold on the other who was morphing a side star for some reason, but oh well. His new pawn had some uses after all.
Well he was certainly interested now, maybe not as much as the forming of his main star, but it was an interesting development! Well, all he had to do now was kick back and watch the show as always. He closed off this thought with a satisfied grin on his face as he leaned back in his chair.
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Man… Shawn’s head hurt. But his shoulder hurt a lot as well. But then again, everything hurt anyway. That probably wasn't a good thing. Huh? Was that shouting he heard? It vaguely sounded like everyone was shouting at once but he couldn't tell that well. He continued to dwell on this when he was suddenly snapped out of those thoughts because he was abruptly yanked up. He blinked and cracked his eyes open briefly to see Allison shaking him and gripping his shoulders. He was about to ask what she was doing when he grimaced and squeezed his eyes closed again at her aggravating his shoulder wound. He fell quickly unconscious again from the pain.
God! Now wasn't the time for Shawn to be such a deep sleeper, Allison thought. They had a situation going on! She didn't even really understand what the situation was but it seemed serious enough considering how everyone was loudly panicking and shouting and Thomas was holding down an equally loud and struggling Sammy. Well as loud as you could get when your face was pressed into the ground.
She’d gotten up from her spot on the floor to check if everyone was alright to find the current situation unfolding in front of her with Susie telling her to get anyone who was still mostly uninjured to help. The most horrifying part was that she saw a glimpse of blood on the ground through the small crowd and the only person she hadn't seen yet was Norman but… she didn't want to think of the worst right now.
On another note, she was still waiting for Shawn, could he please just get up already! He had stirred for a moment but then went back to dreamland! For god’s sake, she already gave an entire internal monologue in the time he hasn't gotten up! She hoped everyone was doing okay over there because she was gonna be a while over here with the pace Shawn was at.
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Susie didn’t know what to expect when she had cautiously got up earlier after that strange attack had subsided. She thought that she’d just call out to everyone, maybe a few would be injured, but they’d all keep going along, navigating this strange place the studio had turned into and trying to figure out how to get out of said studio.
But no.
Nothing normal could happen now.
Of course it couldn't.
Otherwise she and Tom wouldn’t be now be holding a crazed Sammy down away from Norman’s dead body. Everyone had even gotten up already (except Shawn who she told Allison to check on) and were crowding around them. Though most were looking at Norman’s body instead of them, absolutely grief stricken.
But back to her situation.
He’d been trying to pull out the piece of wood impaling the poor man’s throat. She had no idea why Sammy would ever do such a thing. Wouldn’t that just make Norman suffer more? Disgracing a dead body is not a-okay.
As Susie was lost in thought, it seemed, Thomas was getting tired holding down Sammy. Even considering his physique, Sammy seemed unusually stronger and was close to getting out of his grasp. In that moment, a metaphorical lightbulb clicked above his head as he brought his hand sideways down to the back of Sammy’s neck. It connected and the musician slumped to the floor ungracefully with a light thud echoing through everyone’s ears.
“Okay... , so what just happened?”