Chapter Text
“Joey, we had an agreement, you know this!” he exclaimed for what felt like the tenth time these past few days. And like all the previous tries, that particular argument was completely ignored with a stubbornness that only Joey seemed to possess. Henry ran a hand over his face, breathing exasperatedly. So much for no rituals for another month.
Henry had been trying to get through to his friend for some time now. But he got another insane idea into his mind and was dead set on doing it.
“Are you at least sure it’s safe?” Henry asked, defeated.
“Yes, Henry, I’m sure,” Joey answered, irritated. He was also getting tired of these back-and-forth, relentless questions and doubts. Maybe he didn’t always have great ideas, and maybe sometimes things went… sideways, but! “Don’t you get it, Henry? This is such an opportunity to see all the possibilities, all we could have been or might become! All the unaccomplished or abandoned dreams!”
Turning to his old friend, he was met with a sceptical frown on Henry’s face. Standing there with his arms crossed and looking down at Joey while he finished with the ritual circle.
“You know, you told me a similar speech about looking into the real dreams of people with a mirror,” Henry argued, trying a different approach. “That it was such a fascinating idea and safe, and only to take a peek. And then Bendy fell in through the mirror and nearly got injured! Who is to say something like that doesn’t happen with this ritual? It also requires a mirror and everything.” He looked at the said mirror with suspicion. Its simple frame gleamed at him in return. “I don’t understand why you would even need such an enormous mirror, it’s taller than me!”
“You’re just jealous!” Joey said jokingly, looking at his friend once again. Meeting with Henry’s unimpressed glare, he quickly relented. “Ok, look, it clearly says here that nothing organic can pass through the glass, “He said, grabbing the book from the floor near his “drawing” and flipping a page. Joey pushed the book into Henry's hands, making him shift his attention to it, “or solid. Have no clue why that rule was made though. And the mirror is big enough to see at least something on the other side!”
“But what if it appears beneath an ocean or something?”
“Don’t worry, it won’t. Just trust me,” Joey said with a smile.
He passed by Henry, too excited to become frustrated again. There were still candles to arrange and light, and people to gather. This was supposed to be more of a show than anything else, after all. Henry sighed from behind and shouted after him:
“If something goes wrong, I have a right to say I told you so!”
“Deal!” Joey shouted back, smiling in anticipation.
It did not take long to prepare everything. No more than an hour later, the ritual lines were practiced, the people and a toon gathered, and the candles lit. Joey decided not to invite too many people because, despite the size of the mirror, there was still too little space to gather around (And most of them probably had work). Although with Henry prohibiting everyone from coming inside the pentagram, they had enough space for a couple more.
Now they stood in a semicircle around said pentagram, with Joey near the mirror, Henry standing to the side, still apprehensive. Susie and Allison, who also dragged Sammy and Thomas with them, stood on one side. Wally had come after them and was standing next to Norman, who came out of his own curiosity (he always seemed to know when something was going on, so Joey didn’t even have to invite him). And Bendy, of course, was there too, looking at the pentagram with interest. Frankly, Henry thought that there were already too many people, but the room was big enough, and most were excited to see what Joey came up with this time. And for some, it was a welcome break.
Bendy was already starting to lose patience, but before he could say anything, Joey cut him down:
“Alright, people!” he started his performance with a large smile. “Before we start, I want to ask you a simple question. Have you ever thought about what would have happened if you changed one small decision? How your life could have gone if you had said a different thing or taken one more step towards an unaccomplished goal? Well, today, I present you with the mirror of possibility! With this ritual through the glass, we will be able to see all of that. All of those other dimensions that are closer to us, that differ only because of one small detail. Isn’t it fascinating?” finishing his brief speech, he looked around. The toon was looking his way in anticipation, but he was always up for some action. Others looked hesitant. That threw him off a bit. “Ok, don’t look at me like that, it’s totally safe! And Henry had already pestered me all about that bit,” most relaxed after that, and looked at the mirror with interest.
“That does sound fascinating,” Alisson agreed, smiling at him and motioning for Joey to start.
“Alright then,” he said with a smirk, “not to keep you all waiting any longer. Let’s begin!”
Reading the short spell from the book, Joey took on a dramatic voice, getting louder at the end and finishing the act accompanied by the flare of flames from the candles (the last part, knowing Joey, was unnecessary). Now, everyone was looking at the mirror in anticipation. The reflection flickered a couple of times, seemingly turning on and off again until dying down to complete black. Joey looked at it intently, then turned back to the book.
“That does not seem to be anything,” Sammy said, perplexed. “Is this what you brought us here for? I have work to do, you know.”
“That’s not right. It should have shown something within a couple of seconds!” Joey turned a page with frustration, trying to find an answer to this unexpected scenario.
“Well, it did show something. Maybe you took a look into an ink pipe instead?” Bendy said, looking at Joey with a smirk.
“Is it too early to say I told you so?” Henry chimed in, coming closer to the group.
“Well, maybe something will happen in just a moment,” Susie inquired, looking at the people around her.
“Or maybe we should break this thing until ink starts bleeding through it or something,” Thomas suggested with a raised eyebrow, pointing at the blackened glass.
“Ah, Tommy, always so skeptical,” Joey grumbled, not taking his eyes from the text. “Just wait a moment, I'll find the solution.”
A small argument started escalating quickly, with everyone slowly losing interest in the mirror. Henry sighed heavily. He should have known something would go wrong. Some of Joey’s experiments turned out to be failures. However, he guessed, he should be glad it was just a failure and not some catastrophe, which had happened once or twice, mind you. This outcome was preferable to him, less of a mess to fix later. However, he didn't think Joey shared his opinion, as he was frantically reading through page after page. During their ever-so-slowly heating argument, most shifted to Joey’s side, gathering into a tight circle around him, away from the mirror. Tom and Alisson stood slightly to the side, while Norman was the only one left looking at the non-existent reflection. Henry approached him, stopping shortly with the pentagram at his feet.
“How long do you think it is going to take Joey to admit his defeat?” Norman inquired softly, not turning his gaze away from the mirror.
“Probably a long time,” Henry returned with a small chuckle, “you know damn well how stubborn he could be.”
“Yeah, well…” Norman stopped short in his answer, looking at the mirror more intently now. “I think I see something moving in there…”
“Really? It’s still pitch black to me,” Henry said with doubt clearly lingering in his words. However, he did cast his eyes on the black filled mirror once again, trying to see that something in the nothingness. He was ready to give up and go help Joey with the mass surrounding him when he noticed it. “No, wait. You’re right.”
“It looks like swirling ink,” Norman suggested. “If the whole space was filled with ink, of course.”
“I guess…” Henry was second-guessing this whole idea once again. Even if they were seeing things, and even if it was a really small movement, they really should alert someone. He learned long ago that it was best to be cautious with any and all of Joey’s rituals.
So that’s what he did. But over the shouting, no one heard him, it seems. He took notice that Norman left his side, going toward the rest of the group. Probably to try to get to them himself. But he did not take his eyes off the mirror. The swirling was getting more prominent.
A moment later, the mirror flickered once again, accompanied by Joey’s triumphant exclamation. A dimly lit room appeared in the reflection. It resembled the one they were in at the moment in a way, but was strikingly different at the same time. There was a door to the right, barely visible. The whole scenery was more yellowish, and there appeared to be puddles of ink on the floor. It also looked like the floorboards were drawn, but even the thought was ridiculous.
“It’s still not really showing anything. It’s just a room!” Sammy was standing with his arms crossed, fists clenching hard, and glaring at Joey. “I’m leaving. I have work to do. Songs to write,” Without another word, he left the room undeterred by Joey's next words or any shouting from others. It seemed people started to leave.
A movement in his peripheral vision made Henry turn back to the mirror, only to see the door fly open and crash into the wall with visible force but soundlessly nonetheless. Someone ran in as the door was thrown shut, and a figure appeared before the mirror a moment later. It was- it looked like him! Henry stared at the scene before him with wide eyes. It was him, albeit blending with the scenery with the sepia ink-stained clothes and strangely yellow-toned skin color. Although he looked older, wary. As the reflection turned to him, he could also see the panic and tiredness in his eyes. Frozen in place, they stood there, looking at each other. With the lighting on the other side of the mirror, it seemed like the reflection's eyes were pitch black.
Then they simultaneously moved, hesitantly taking a step closer. At that moment, Henry could almost believe that it was just his honest to god reflection, albeit a bit strange. He tried to voice his numerous questions, and the illusion was gone. He, in the reflection, did not open his mouth, only looking at him with slight confusion.
Another step and he was right in front of the mirror, reaching his hand to meet the one of his reflection in mild curiosity. He felt something wet under his palm, which was strange, but the mirror was most probably just that cold.
Then something grabbed his wrist - wet and black. Broken from the trans-like state, Henry stumbled back with a strangled yelp, yanking his hand away. He didn’t fall, caught by someone from behind, but Henry didn’t really care.
They all watched in mild horror as the reflection started to melt, and more ink appeared on the glass surface, slowly transforming into a dark, sluggish limb. Henry’s quiet and frantic “I told you so” rang loudly in the silence like the truth it was.
_ _ _ _ _
Sammy stormed out of the room without looking back, fists clenched to stop his hands from trembling. This whole thing had been incredibly stupid. They had jobs to do, deadlines to meet. And Joey knew that perfectly well. He was the one to establish them. And while there was enough time to complete everything, it needed to be perfect!
Just like Bendy - perfect, magnificent.
Running down the stairs to the music department, Sammy rushed to his office. The ugly pipe station opposite the door was infuriating. He had been so mad when Joey installed it right in his office. Yes, it may have helped solve the problem of flooding somewhat, but it also brought so many distractions. And the ink… it whispered to him now all the time while he worked. It messed with his work process; it was marvelous; it drove him insane; he needed to please it.
His headache intensified. Closing the door, Sammy took out a flask and frantically opened it. His hands were fully shaking now, making the task all the more difficult. Taking a gulp, then another, he was finally able to calm down a bit. The sweet taste of ink on his tongue was wonderful, numbing; he couldn’t get enough; he hated it; he couldn’t stop. He took another gulp. Drinking it was the most natural thing in the world; it still repulsed him just thinking about it.
His mind and body finally satisfied, Sammy got to work. There were still many songs to write. Sitting at his desk, he wrote as whispers followed his every thought and note.