Idea 6: A Mad Prophet
“Well, it’s been a while since we all gathered together,” Bendy remarked.
All six Toons and Pinkie Pie were in an old storage room that had mostly been cleared of ink. Bendy, Susie, Charley, and Barley were seated on various crates around an emptied wire spool talking while Boris and Edgar played with Pinkie.
“Ye do realize dat dis be the secon’ time we met?” Barley asked, trying to drive a tap into a keg the Butcher Gang had dragged to the meeting.
Bendy had forgotten that but wasn’t about to admit it to the Butcher Gang.
Barley grunted as he finally drove the tap into the barrel. “Alrigh’, drink up, me hearties!” he said, pouring the drink into four mugs and setting them before the others.
Susie took a sip from hers. “I think its root beer,” she said. She took another sip. “Yep, definitely root beer.”
Bendy drank his down in one gulp. “It’s fizzy!” he proclaimed.
Charley took a drink from his glass. “Wow,” he said. “Whoever dis Wally fella is, he’s missin’ out on something!”
“Wally?” Susie asked.
“Dat was de name on da barrel,” Barely said as he refilled his glass.
“I knew he had a stash somewhere!” Susie cried, slamming a hand on the table before wincing.
Bendy noticed. “Do you need some aspirin or something?”
Boris whined, tugging at Susie’s dress.
“Not now, honey,” she said, before turning back to Bendy. “I’m good now, it’s gone.”
“If you say so,” Bendy said, not sounding convinced.
“Anyways,” Charley said, reaching into his suit jacket. “Me and the boys found this lying around.”
He pulled out a clock from his jacket. It was octangular, with a splotch of ink on the back. It was also… strangely shaded, but not like Pinkie Pie’s coat.
Susie seemed to recognize the color, but she had a different question. “Why are the hands moving that fast?”
Indeed, the hands were spinning around so fast that they were a blur, along with two rings centered around the center.
“Not a clue,” Charley answered. “Whaddaya want for it?”
“Uh, hey, Charley,” Edgar said, tugging at his friend’s sleeve.
“Shut up, Edgar,” the oldest Butcher Gang member said. “We’re talkin’ here.”
“What is the color?” Bendy asked, turning it over in his hands.
Boris’s ears perked up, and he was staring intently at the clock.
“This is purple,” Susie said, tapping the main body. “And this writing is a type of green.”
Bendy looked closer. On the bottom in a small hand partially obscured by the ink were the words ‘Professor Ti Time Jui Cloc.’ “Must be a brand,” he said. ↅ ME’S CE K
“Anyways, what do ye have?” Barely asked. “We be a’waitin for an offer.”
“Hold your horses,” Bendy said, reaching behind his head and pulling out an object. “Here we go, a complete copy of ‘Demonic Tonic.’”
“We gots it,” Barley deadpanned. “Next?”
Susie shrugged. “I didn’t find anything,” she admitted.
“Figures,” Charley said. “Ya find anythin, wolf boy?”
Boris tapped his chin, before snapping his fingers and reaching behind his back. He pulled out a carved wooden bird that was mounted on a wheeled cart with a string.
Edgar’s face lit up. “Ducky!” he cried. “Where did you find him?”
Boris wiggled his fingers in a ‘so-so’ motion.
Edgar turned to Charley. “Please make the trade! Please, please, please, PLEASE!”
Charley looked uncomfortable. “Now see here, Edgar-”
“Oh, come on Charley,” Edgar begged. “Pppllleeeaaassseee?”
Charley looked uncomfortable as Edgar unleashed the deadliest weapon in his arsenal; the puppy-dog eyes. Bendy, Susie, and Barley stifled chuckles at the Toon’s discomfort.
“Oh, all right,” Charley relented.
“Yay!” Edgar cheered, shoving the clock at Boris and picking up the wooden animal.
Susie shook her head as Boris picked up the clock. “For a moment, I thought he was going to give that to Pinkie,” she said.
“Wait,” Bendy said. “Where’s Pinkie?”
Edgar and Boris looked at each other. “Uhhh…” Edgar began.
“wHeRe Is ShE!?!”
Both Toons cowered. “We don’t know!” Edgar wailed. “She disappeared and we can’t find her!”
“Why didn’t ye tell us?” Barley said as he picked up his harpoon.
“We’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes!”
“Shut up, Edgar,” Bendy said. “Now, she couldn’t have gotten far. Boris, Barley, look around Heavenly Toys. Susie, you and Charley check Bendyland. Edgar, you look on the top floor and I’ll-” Suddenly, he stopped.
“Bendy?” Susie asked.
“Never mind,” he said, his skin beginning to run. “I have a good idea wHeRe ShE iS.”
The ink man that had once been Sammy Lawrence lived a simple life. Get up, straighten up the cutouts of his Lord, guide his loyal flock, pray to Bendy, sing the songs of Bendy, look for tender sheep to offer to his Lord, return to his sanctuary and go into a state of not-sleep until the next day.
It was pretty easy to see what his world revolved around.
However, the being that was now known as the Prophet was forced into a state of wakefulness by a racket coming from the band room. Picking himself off the floor, he opened the door and poked his head out.
Right in front of him was a confusing sight. The stands were populated by Searchers, who were working the instruments with… various amounts of skill. Conducting the group was a strangely colored pony who was singing, “You stomp your whole self in, you stomp your whole self out, you stomp your whole self in, and you give a little shout-”
“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE!?!” the Prophet shouted, a little bit of Sammy peaking out.
The band stopped playing as a record screech sounded in the background and the pony fell down. “M-Mr. Lawrence!” one of the Searchers stammered. “Didn’t know you were in there!”
“Would that have made a difference!”
“N-no sir! It’s just the pony want us to play some songs she had written-”
Whatever the Searcher was going to say was never known, as he collapsed back into ink, along with the rest of the impromptu band.
“Hi!”
Sammy looked down at the… pink pony.
“My name is Pinkie Pie! What’s yours?”
“I… haven’t gone by my name in a long time, little sheep,” the Prophet admitted. “What is one like you doing down here?”
“Exploring! Daddy and the others were too busy talking, so I dove into the pipes. Do you know any games?”
Sammy was confused at the pony’s cavalier attitude, and a bit put off by it.
The Prophet knew exactly what to do with this little sheep.
Pinkie Pie sat where the funny guy had told her to sit. He said that he was going to summon his lord to meet her. Did that mean that he was a knight like Bendy was that one time? She couldn’t wait to meet him!
Well, his lord was being slow, so Pinkie pulled a tape she had picked up earlier out from her mane. The name on this one was ‘Joey Drew.’ She immediately hit play.
“Thomas has just shown me the first prototype.
“My god, what have I done?
“It… no, not an it… he is nothing like I had imagined, and definitely not like Henry would have drawn him.
“Oh, Henry. What would you say if you could see what I have done with our creation?
“He seems to be in pain, except when he’s in ink. He’s currently in a large vat soaking.
“I’m meeting with Murray tomorrow. I hope he has some idea of what can be done to help him.
“He has to.”
The tape clicked off. Pinkie hoped that the ‘prototype’ was okay, whatever a prototype was. ↅ BOTH ARE TRUE
It was then that she heard yelling from behind the closed door.
The Prophet had fallen back on his routine, preparing the lost sheep for sacrifice. He had placed her in the circle and had played the old song to summon his Lord.
He did not expect his Lord to slam him against the wall.
“wHeRe Is ShE!?!” the Ink Demon demanded, holding Sammy around the throat. “wHeRe Is PiNkIe PiE!?!”
“My Lord!” Sammy wheezed. “I am your prophet-”
“sToP sTaLlInG!” the towering ink monstrosity growled. “wHaT dId YoU dO tO hEr!?!”
“Daddy, I’m in the next room!”
Bendy dropped Sammy and went through the door, leaving an outline of his body. The Prophet followed more cautiously, peering through the hole.
Bendy nuzzled Pinkie Pie. “I was so worried,” he murmured.
“Don’t worry, Daddy! Mr. Sammy was right there with me!”
Bendy stopped nuzzling and stared at Pinkie. “That’s what I was worried about.”
“But Daddy!” Pinkie Pie continued. “Everyone I met has been nice!”
“I know,” Bendy admitted. “But not everyone here is nice. You could have gotten hurt.”
Pinkie pouted.
Bendy sighed. “Just promise that you’ll be careful.”
“My lord!” the Prophet interrupted. Bendy looked down at the ink man as he continued rambling. “If it would please you, would you please come down to our humble village far below? It would be an honor if you would grace us with your presence.”
Bendy stared at Sammy. “I’ll think about it,” he said, before heading back to his home.
The clock laid where had it been left on the table, the hands still spinning backwards. But slowly they began to slow, until they stopped and started going the other way. The second and third ring stopped as well, revealing months and days written on them. However, they began flipping between two dates.
April 14. ↅ 1955
August 31. ↅ 1963
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This color text seems to be a spirit in the studio talking....
What are these dates? What is their significance?
“Both are true...?”
What is this madness...?
I don’t know....
SomePersonOnTheInternet
these 2 dates are important in real world history actually
1955
first ever civil rights movement lead by Martin Luther King jr.
1963
the assassination of John F. Kennedy