#Noot's fanfiction

[yun-shuten]

Illiteracy

Summary: She could speak and listen, but reading was something she couldn’t understand. Or basically, Hat Kid being illiterate.

A/N - something i wrote up on a whim

Reading had never been Hat Kid’s strong suite. Sure, she piloted her (beautiful, majestic and most importantly, comfy) ship and that required at least being literate, but she had always looked at the pictures to understand the message.

It just made more sense to her, when she could see the bigger picture rather than imagine it from mind jumbling words. It sunk into her mind, a single image that wouldn’t be forgotten for a long time whereas it was the complete opposite for words. A word could only say so much, but a picture could say a thousand words.

However, it seemed like everyone on this planet loved to read.

Mafia Town was full of words; bright red words spray painted on the walls or neon pink scribbled haphazardly on the bricks. All of it was just a bunch of mess that made no sense to Hat Kid. Hat Kid was just lucky that she could understand the local language enough to get her point across.

Mustache Girl was fast to notice her illiteracy. She was a bright girl, a trait that kept her alive for all this time and out of the mafia’s grubby hands. Mustache Girl had noticed the confused looks on Hat Kid’s face every time she saw one of the town’s graffiti and Mustache Girl’s wanted poster. Considering Hat Kid’s alien origins, it didn’t take long for Mustache Girl to connect the dots.

“That’s my wanted poster.” Mustache Girl spoke up when they passed by another one of her wanted poster, gaining Hat Kid’s attention. “See, above my head says ‘wanted’ and below that is the reward.” She explained, pointing at the characters.

Hat Kid frowned in puzzlement, a silent question of ‘why’ in her eyes.

“Because I’m their enemy. I’m the only one here who’s fighting against them.” Mustache Girl answered solemnly. “Everyone else gave up. They don’t want to be singled out by the Mafia.”

Hat Kid hummed in thought before smiling at Mustache Girl. “Thank you for reading to me.”

Mustache Girl nearly stopped in her tracks at her newfound friend’s voice but beamed back proudly. “We’re friends, right? This is what friends do when they can’t do something.” The blonde glanced at some of the signs that remained undamaged from the mafia and grinned widely.

“Say, why don’t I teach you a few words?”

--- 

“Oi lassie, I need you to read this script right now. We’re about to start filming very soon!”

The Conductor was a very busy owl. Being a movie director wasn’t easy at all, and he had to also compete against that stupid director DJ Grooves on this year’s annual bird award. That meant all of his owls (and lassie) had to be in tip-top shape, ready for shooting, and lastly but not least, know about the newest film’s script.

The lass may’ve been a last-minute addition but that wouldn’t excuse her from the responsibilities of being featured in hismovie.

Hat Kid nearly dropped the large bundle of paper that were shoved at her by the Conductor. “Wait-!”

But the owl was already moving away from the child, barking orders at his owls left and right in preparation of today’s shooting. Hat Kid frowned at the Conductor’s behavior and tentatively flipped to the first page of the script.

Hat Kid despaired. She couldn’t read this!

The words were all bunched together that made it barely legible to the hatted child, and to makes things worse, most of the words were very lengthy in size. There were a few words that Hat Kid could recognize from Mustache Girl’s short lesson, but everything else were completely unfamiliar.

She glanced up from the script and looked around the Conductor’s side of the studio. Perhaps she could ask someone to read it out for her?

Hat Kid headed straight to the first owl she saw that didn’t seem to be doing anything and tapped on his shoulder to gain his attention.

“Hm? Oh, aren’t you the little kid that the Conductor got recently?” The owl remarked, “What do you want?”

Hat Kid held up the script in her hands and pointed at one of the unfamiliar words on the print. “Can’t understand.”

The owl picked the script from her hands and adjusted his glasses to read the print better. “Detective? That’s your role I believe. It’s someone who solves a mystery, particularly crime scenes.”

“What about this one?” Hat Kid pointed at another word.

“That’s anonymous. It means someone unknown, like a stranger.” The owl explained, lowering the script enough so Hat Kid could see the word better. “You’re a little kid so it’s no wonder you can’t make sense of some of these words.”  

The owl glanced around him before sitting down and motioned Hat Kid to do the same. “Is there anything else you’d like me to explain?”

---

The Snatcher cackled when the contract tucked itself under the kid’s hat after she had signed it. It was always a good day when an unsuspecting intruder wanders into one of his traps and inevitably hands their soul over to the Snatcher. Especially one that was looking for the Time Pieces that had fell into his forest a few days ago.

“Now as per your contracts, just follow the instructions and who knows? I just might reward you for your hard work.” The Snatcher flashed his usual smile at the kid. It dropped by a fraction when the kid raised their hand at the Snatcher with a frown on their face. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“This says murder ghost?” Hat Kid asked, pointing at the contract.

The Snatcher leaned slightly closer to look where the hatted child was pointing at. “No, that says fire spirit. You can’t kill ghosts, kiddo.”

The kid made a noise at that before putting the contract back inside her hat and scampered off in the direction of Subcon village. The Snatcher watched for a while before shaking his head and disappearing into the ground.

Weird kid.

The next time he saw the kiddo after sending them off with a Time Piece was when she was supposed to be cleaning the well. Brat had the gall to interrupt him during his reading time.

“What do you want? You’re supposed to be filling out your contractual obligations.” The Snatcher pointed out impatiently, glowering at the girl.

His glare succeeded in intimidating the brat, bring a sense of satisfaction to the Snatcher. Good to know that the kid was scared of him still.

“I-I don’t know what to do.” Hat Kid mumbled nervously, pulling out the contract from her hat.

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” The Snatcher repeated with an incredulous tone and jabbed a talon at the contract. “Just readthe instructions there, kiddo! Surely it can’t be that hard even for someone-“

“I can’t read.” Hat Kid interrupted.

The Snatcher blinked and paused, his smile dropping in confusion. “You what?”

“I cannot read.” Hat Kid repeated slowly with a frown. “I’m not from around here.” She gestured at the rest of the woods and the sky.

“You could read the other contract perfectly fine though.” The Snatcher pointed out, not wholly believing the little girl’s excuse.

“You told me what to do. That’s how I knew what I needed to do,” Hat Kid corrected and pointed at the contract’s contents. “I cannot understand though.”

The Snatcher stared at the contract, then to the kid. “So let me get this straight. This entire time, you couldn’t read at all.” Hat Kid nodded. “So how did you know that you needed to murder the fire spirits in your first contract?”

“Familiar word.” Hat Kid explained. “An owl taught me the word.”

“So an owl could teach you what murder is but he doesn’t teach you what a well is?” The Snatcher snarked, folding his arms.  

“It was in a script.” Hat Kid informed sheepishly. “Murder on Owl Express.”

“That sounds boring.” The Snatcher scoffed, setting down the book he had been reading and floated down to his small bookshelf. “Well this won’t do at all. I can’t have an illiterate minion since you do need to read your contracts to know what your obligations are.” He glanced back at Hat Kid. “Say kid, how well are you at reading?”

“Can’t read long words.” Hat Kid replied promptly, holding her hands at a distance to show an estimate. “They get too hard.”

“Eh, I guess I can probably change the contracts to use small words for you.” The Snatcher muttered and pulled out one of his books with a spindly talon. “Now get over here. It’s about time someone taught you how to read properly.”

---

Hat Kid hummed pleasantly to herself as she dove into her pillow fort. Today had been a very interesting day!

She had never been inside a well before, much less unplugged a giant pipe that hid below it. She enjoyed the climb very much, even if the frigid cold water was slightly terrifying to watch crawling up to her.

However, the most interesting thing that had happened today would be the Snatcher teaching Hat Kid basic literature. For all the nonchalance he tried to pass off to Hat Kid, she could see that he was having fun teaching some of the words to the child.

It had been complicated at first, especially since Snatcher had kept trying to introduce more complex words to Hat Kid. Really, why did silent letters exist? It made reading just more complicated.

Hat Kid sat in front of her diary which had yet to be filled with today’s records of events. It was all written in her home language, the one she was most intimately familiar with but otherwise contained nothing else. At least yet.

Hat Kid had never tried to write a diary record in an entirely different language before. But then again, she could always start now, especially since now she could read and write to a degree. The child grabbed the least dry pen on her desk and began to write.

Dear journal

I thought I saw I some weird Tower poking out from between the trees…

[yun-shuten]

Narcolepsy Pt. 4

Summary: I can’t believe Henry killed Sammy

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

Sammy was having a perfectly fine day for once since the day he started working for Joey Drew Studio.

First off, he woke up on time to eat breakfast without needing to rush.

Then there was no traffic in the road, so he arrived to work on time.

When he came to work, he discovered that the ink pipe in his office didn’t burst over his hard-written works for once.

Then there were the other musicians who didn’t screw up as often during their rehearsal, and thus they didn’t waste time on silly mistakes.

His day got better when Wally didn’t lose his keys again, and go asking around if anyone had seen his key

Finally, the best of all, nobody bothered Sammy all day.

The lack of distractions gave Sammy all the beloved ( and well needed ) time to finish his work that was needed for the upcoming Bendy cartoon episode, and frankly Sammy was pleased that he wouldn’t have to stress over the deadlines again.

Needless to say, Sammy was having a very good day.

Until he tripped over the stairs on his way to Joey’s office. Bundles of sheet music in his arms and all of them flying into the air as the songwriter loudly swore in his descent down the stairs.

---

“You know, I’m surprised Henry hasn’t passed out on his desk today yet.” Jack remarked as he stared at Henry’s desk which was filled with stacks of drawings, “You’d think that with his narcolepsy that he’d fall asleep already.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that just yet.” Thomas replied, leaning back on the chair he was sitting on, “Knowin’ that sleepyhead? He’s probably sleeping somewhere else in the studio right now, waiting until someone finds him again.”

“Right now?” Jack rose a brow at the janitor, “But he just left for his lunch break.”

“Obviously you haven’t seen how fast he can fall asleep.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “I bet you one of Joey’s biscuit that someone’s already tripped over him.”

“Deal.”

---

Shawn stared down at the staircase when he had heard someone swearing loudly.

Funnily enough, it sounded like Sammy Lawrence.

Then he glanced back at the body on the floor.

“You couldn’t have picked a better place to fall asleep?” He muttered mostly to himself as the person in front of him was far beyond the point of unconsciousness to hear him.

“Alright Henry, let’s get you to the couch,” Shawn said as he wrapped his arms under the sleeping animator, “Before someone trips over you and falls down the stairs.”

---

If people called Joey creepy, then Henry was twice creepier than Joey whenever he was lying still on the couch.

People would pass by the employee break room and see Henry watching them without blinking until they left. Even Wally didn’t remain for long as he moped the floor as fast he could, and left once he was done, muttering about Henry’s blank stares being terrifying.

Henry was still on the couch when Norman walked inside and noticed Henry being wide awake.

“You’re up?” Norman asked.

Henry said nothing, instead opting to watch Norman.

Norman frowned at the animator’s silence and approached the couch.

Neither of the two said a word, instead they stared at each other dead in the eye.

Eventually there was a flash of recognition in Norman’s eye as his mind came to a conclusion.

“Is this the sleep paralysis you were telling us about before?” Norman asked, “Look up if it’s a yes.”

Henry’s eyes moved up.

“I’ll stay with you until it wears off then.” The projectionist said, sitting down in front of the couch.

Henry did his best to convey his appreciation through his eyes.

---

Henry concluded that sleep paralysis sucked.

Falling asleep at any time without so much of a warning?

That’s okay, he can deal with that. He just has to work harder while he’s awake to compensate for the time lost, and Joey doesn’t mind that.

Wake up on the studio floor with a few developing bruises that comes from collapsing?

Yeah, no problem. They have an infirmary for a reason and Henry is well acquainted with the first aids there by now.

Waking up and not being able to move anything at all except your eyes though?

It was forcing him through boredom that seemed to stretch on forever. There was nothing that Henry could do to distract him, except maybe imagine ideas for a bit but that would get boring very quickly.  

He couldn’t really talk either, so it wasn’t like he could hold a conversation with someone to pass the time, much less start one.

So, all he does is watch people in the end.

Which is really boring too.

It was a good thing that Norman found him. He had set up a projector in the break room and moved the couch Henry was on so the animator could see the screen. Now they were watching some of the Bendy cartoon episodes until the sleep paralysis wore off.

Norman had always been a bright man and Henry found himself appreciating the projectionist all the more.

---

Wally looked up at the stair case before moving his gaze down to the body of Sammy Lawrence.

There was a sizable bump swelling on the musician’s head and if Wally hadn’t known any better, he’d think that Sammy was dead from falling down the stairs.

Which was starting to sound pretty morbid now that he thought about it.

The janitor curiously brushed a hand against Sammy’s head and inspected his fingers. Only the tip was slick with blood.

Good thing Wally remembered where the first aid kit was stashed on this floor.

Hopefully Sammy wasn’t dead by the time he got back.

---

The time of the sacrifice for his Lord was nigh.

The wandering sheep had arrived in the halls where he, his Lord’s Prophet, roamed.

Sammy watched from atop his balcony as the man wandered into his sanctuary, presumably to use the valve that was hiding within.

He observed in glee as the man successfully held off the horde of searchers that had come to test his sacrifice, gaining only a few wounds that weren’t too serious.

This man would be the perfect sacrifice to appease for his Lord Bendy.

Perhaps even enough that the Lord would grant his prophet his desired freedom from the inky abyss.

The sheep had wandered into the infirmary which the prophet found no issues with.

He could not have the sacrifice being damaged too badly from his scuffle with the searchers – he wouldn’t dare to offer a broken object to his Lord.

It was outrageous, scandalous, and outright blasphemous.

What kind of prophet would he be if he dared to serve that to his Lord?

‘However,’ Sammy thought with growing irritation, ‘The sheep has been inside for too long.’

Time had long lost its meaning to the Prophet, with the timeless state that the studio was trapped in and his admittedly spotty memory. The only way one could tell the time was to check the clocks scattered throughout the studio but there were too many that Sammy didn’t know where they were.

Even if he did know, he didn’t recall where he’d seen them.

“Sheep, sheep, where are you?” He hummed to himself quietly as he made his way to the infirmary, hopefully to run into the wandering sheep.

He had not expected it to happen literally when his feet caught onto something, and his face was quick to meet the floorboard.

He had also not his head to hit the wall with a solid thud.

---

Henry woke up with the feeling of something heavy over him.

His suspicion was confirmed when he registered a body covered in ink lying atop of his back and boy, did Henry did his best not to shriek in panic.

Because it wasn’t every day that you woke up on the floor of the hellish studio that you used to work in and also had someone’s body over you.

The stranger was heavy too and that did not help Henry at all, especially with how small he was in comparison to the stranger.

Henry grunted as he pushed and wiggled his way out from under the inky body and let out a relieved sigh once he was free.

The former animator stared down at the person who had somehow collapsed over him and experimentally poked him with his toe.

There was a small groan from the body which made Henry back out of the infirmary to down the stairs.

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

Henry was not going to stick around and wait for this ambiguously human male to wake up.

Absolutely not.

[yun-shuten]

Narcolepsy Pt. 3

The employees of Joey Drew Studio discover Henry being narcoleptic. 

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt. 4

Finding someone asleep in Joey Drew Studio wasn’t an uncommon sight, considering the constant missed deadlines and the employees pulling overtime to meet the delayed deadlines.

Especially when it came to Henry who was the studio’s main animator and the most prone to staying up all night while animating his favorite dancing demon.

Employees who’d walk past Henry’s desk would sometimes find the man fast asleep on his desk and let him sleep. Then there were others who’d try to rouse him, like Wally Franks.

“Mister Ross, wake uuuup.” Wally groaned loudly after his latest attempt to wake the animator failed, “Seriously, how the hell are you still asleep? I even shoved you off the chair.”

“What’s this about?” Norman and Grant peered into the office, curiosity plastered clear on their faces.

“Henry fell asleep again and I’ve been tryin’ to wake him up for the past-“Wally quickly glanced at his watch, “Hour now. I even pushed him off his chair and he’s still snoring on the job.” The janitor gestured at Henry who was indeed lying on the floor beside his chair.

“And you’d think Sammy would tell him off for not doing his job like someone here.” Grant snickered. “Then again, Henry is one of the people here that Sammy tolerates.”

“He probably just did another all nighter.” Norman suggested, walking up to the fallen animator and picking him up easily, “I’ll take him to the break room.” He said before promptly carrying Henry out of his office.

Grant shrugged at Wally nonchalantly and followed the projectionist out.

---

The topic of Henry’s broken sleep schedule was brought up again when Grant walked into Joey’s office to discuss about the studio’s finances when he saw Henry lying down on the couch in Joey’s office.

Why the man had a couch in his office, Grant didn’t know why but it seemed that Henry was using it as a makeshift bed.

“I’m starting to think that Henry might be overworking himself.” Susie said with concern when Grant had shared the information, “He often puts his work before his health.”

“The man’s a workaholic.” Wally added with a grumble, “At this rate, Joey’s going to wear him out faster than I can say he’s outta there.”

“Fellas, we might be just overthinkin’ this whole thing.” Shawn interjected, “For all we know, Henry might just be havin’ a strange sleepin’ schedule.”

“Shawn’s right.” Thomas agreed, “Besides, it’s not the first time Henry slept in the studio.”

“If you can even call what he’s doing as sleeping.” The janitor muttered under his breath, “The man sleeps like the dead. There’s no waking him once he falls asleep, I swear.”

“Deep sleeper.” Norman supplied helpfully.

Grant cleared his throat, “Right so I guess we’re leaving Henry’s weird sleeping habit alone?”

There were murmurs of ‘Yes’ and ‘For now’ among the employees of Joey Drew Studio as they dispersed from the break room, returning to doing their job.

For the rest of the following week, nobody commented on finding Henry fast asleep in the studio.

Nobody would say a word when they’d find Henry lying down in the store room that was filled with 426 copies of Bendy cutouts, or when Henry was in a single bathroom stall for hours, or especially when Henry was buried under a pyramid of bacon soup cans by the courtesy of Wally.

If any interns complained about the head animator not waking up despite their attempts to rouse him, they would all shrug at the complainers and say nothing.

This stopped when Henry had suddenly collapsed on the floor while speaking to Susie.

Poor woman screamed in panic when her brain had comprehended that her other boss had fallen despite looking absolutely fine earlier.

Norman had been close by when Susie had screamed and was thus one of the first to arrive at the scene. Norman watched as Susie frantically looking Henry over while some of the concerned employees began to gather.

“What happened?” Norman frowned, looking down at Henry.

“I-I don’t know,” The voice actress stammered with distress, “One moment we were just chatting and then Henry started yawning. I was just about to tell him to take a break before he had suddenly collapsed on the floor without any warning.”

“Just like that?” Norman pressed, slinging Henry’s arms over his shoulders and lifted the animator’s body up, “Out of nowhere?”

Susie nodded in affirmation.

Among the crowd, the ‘veteran’ employees were murmuring to each other.

“That was definitely not normal.” Thomas remarked.

“What part of ‘collapsing on the floor without any warning’ sounds normal?” Grant muttered quietly, “Remind me to get Henry a raise for this.”

“Hey, is it just me or is Susie storming towards Joey’s office?” Shawn asked as he pointed at the storming voice actress.

“Well count me in too then, I got a few words to tell Mister Drew!” Wally snapped, quickly following in the direction of Susie.

“Should we stop them?” Thomas asked, glancing at Shawn.

“Probably not. You have to admit, Henry has been definitely working a lot more than usual lately.” Grant replied with a raised brow, “It might explain why he’s been falling asleep all over the studio lately.”

“Lately?” Shawn snorted, “More like forever. Can’t go a step without almost trippin’ over Henry a day.”

Grant opened his mouth to retort before thinking over Shawn’s response and nodding, “Actually, that sounds pretty accurate.”

“Guys, maybe we should really go and stop Susie and Wally.” Thomas said quietly, “Before they strangle our boss?”

“They wouldn’t go that far.” Grant said, “The guy pays their check after all.”

“Yeah but as if that’s not going to stop them from making a studio riot.” The repairman snorted, “Half of the studio employees call Henry ‘mum and he’s not even past his mid-twenties yet.”

“Wait, why mum?”

“Because Joey insists that he’s the father.”

“Then Henry needs to immediately divorce.” Shawn interjected, “He can do so much more better.”

“Guys, seriously. Wally has an axe and I’m worried about the state that the studio will be left in once he’s done.”

---

“So,” Joey started, staring down at his employees who had the decency to look sheepish ( except Wally ), “Can someone tell me why Mr Franks here was trying to break down my office door with an axe reserved for fire escape?”  

“Well we were calling you from outside your office for a while-“ Susie began.

“Give Henry a break already!” Wally snapped, “You’ve been runnin’ him ragged before he can get outta here!”

To Joey’s credit, he didn’t show any outward reaction towards Wally’s accusation. At least, for the first ten seconds.

“You believe that I’m overworking Henry?” Joey asked with a puzzled frown. “What makes you think that?”

“Joey, he’s been falling asleep all over the studio.” Grant spoke up, “Especially on the floor too.”

“Literally a few days ago, I tripped over him when he was sleeping near the stairs and almost fell down too.” Shawn added, “Thomas caught me before I actually fell.”

“I found him almost drowning into ink when he fell asleep in the hallway and one of the pipes busted over his head.”

“Just recently I was talking with him and he suddenly collapsed on the floor with no warning.” Susie explained with a disapproving frown.

“Just like that?” Joey repeated with incredulous eyes.

“Just like that.” Susie affirmed with a nod.

“Did someone at least take him to the couch?”

“Norman got that covered.”

Joey let out a relieved sigh, “Then I don’t know why you guys are getting so worked up about it then. Henry does this all the time. He’s narcoleptic”

Everyone blinked.

“He’s what?” Wally asked puzzledly.

“Henry has narcolepsy.” Joey replied and pointed to his head, “Sometimes and very often – he’ll fall asleep and Henry’s a very deep sleeper, as I’m sure many of our interns have figured.”

“Woah wait, why hasn’t he told us about it then?” Shawn questioned curiously.

“Funny, I thought he had already told you about his narcolepsy.” Joey remarked with a shrug, “If you see Henry asleep on his desk, just carry him to the couch and leave him there. He’ll wake up by himself. Otherwise, you’ll have to ask him about his narcolepsy.”

“Now can someone fix my door that now has an axe through it?”

---

When Henry had woken up, he hadn’t expected to see many of his colleagues gathering in front of him with crossed arms.

“What did Joey do?” Was the first thing he asked because there were many things that happened in the studio that were 99% Joey’s fault, both directly and indirectly.

“Henry, why didn’t you tell us you’re narcoleptic?” Shawn asked, frowning at the animator, “You gave us a scare whenever we’d find you lyin’ on the ground and suddenly passin’ out in front of Susie like that-“

“I didn’t tell you guys?” Henry interjected, confusion flashing in his eyes.

“Never.” The employees collectively answered.

“Huh, could’ve sworn I had.” Henry muttered, scratching his head, “Well I’m pretty sure you guys now know why I keep sleeping in the studio. It’s narcolepsy. Sometimes, I just fall asleep and I can’t help it.”

“Well that’d explain why we’d find you on the floor time to time then.” Grant commented.

“We thought Joey was overworkin’ you and that’s why you were always sleepin’ in the studio.” Susie confessed sheepishly.

“Joey? Overworking me?” Henry chuckled at the prospect, “Not a farfetched idea, if Joey wasn’t familiar with how my narcolepsy goes.”

“Yeah and I’m very certain that he knows how you sleep like the dead.” Norman smiled at the animator, “Wally’s words, not mine.”

“So you’re not actually being overworked, it’s just the narcolepsy?” Susie asked, her tone laced with concern.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, I promise Susie.” Henry nodded, “If you guys find me sleeping on the floor, just take me to the employee break room. It’s just so others don’t trip over me. Apparently, it’s a very common thing to happen.”

Shawn coughed into his hand inconspicuously.  

“Right, so is there anything else we should know about your broken sleep schedule before we get back to work?” Grant asked.

Henry hummed in thought, rubbing his chin with his finger, “Sometimes I’ll wake up in a sleep paralysis. It’s basically when I can’t move for a while until it stops after a few minutes. There’s not much to be done about it but I’d appreciate it if you guys would let me have a few moments to get feeling back to my body if I’m having one.”

“Any way for us to tell?”

“You’ll know if you find me awake on the floor but not moving.” Henry grinned at his colleagues before noticing the group was two heads less, “Hey, where’s Wally and Thomas?”

“They’re with Mister Drew. Wally tried to break down Joey’s door with the axe and is currently cleaning up the mess, while Thomas went to fix the door.”

Henry blinked, “Should I even ask how Wally got his hand on the axe?”

“Probably not.”

[yun-shuten]

Narcolepsy Pt. 2

More narcoleptic Henry shenanigans

Pt 1 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

Very rarely do the Lost Ones acknowledge the environment they were in.

They mostly stuck to wallowing in their sorrow and despair of the cruel state they’ve been reduced to. There wasn’t a moment when they weren’t crying and expressing their desire to go home, until now.

A great majority of the Lost Ones were huddled around the air vent where they had watched the Creator – he had finally returned! -  crawl into and hadn’t come out for an hour now.

Some of them were murmuring that he must’ve been exploring the other side in search of a way to save them, while others wondered if perhaps the Creator had gotten stuck in the vents.

The vents weren’t small by conventional means but that hadn’t mean someone couldn’t get stuck.

After another half an hour of complete silence, one of the Lost Ones finally volunteered to wander into the vent and see where had the Creator gone to.

They hadn’t gotten far inside when they reached up to the Creator who was definitely inside the vents in front of them but not moving one bit.

The only sounds being made were the Creator’s quiet snores and the ambient noise of machinery running in the background.

The Lost One promptly shuffled back outside of the vent and told the others that the Creator had fallen asleep in the vents.

Nobody believed them and they all resigned to wallowing in their despair again.

---

Bendy wondered if he should probably pull the Creator out of the vent by now.

He’s been in there for an hour and surely that can’t be good for the human. It’d be just as bad as sleeping on the floor which was definitely not comfortably with all the globs of ink ruining the texture and durability of the aged wood.

If his Creator screwed over his mortal body for sleeping in the wrong space, then the game would be ruined and Bendy would be denied a chance to make the traitor pay.

Turned out he didn’t have to do anything when his Creator eventually woke up in the vents and wormed his way out of it, as if he hadn’t been sleeping in tight spaces for the past hour.

Honestly, Henry was proving to be more troublesome than what he was worth.

---

It wasn’t every day that a Butcher Gang member would find a comfortable pillow, considering the state of the studio and their general mindless behavior.

But every now and then, there would be something that the Butcher Gang would treasure over, whether it’d be a plushie or a broken china plate from somewhere.

In this case, it was an oversized pillow that had suddenly appeared in front of the fireplace that they were standing at earlier before they were drawn away by a sound.

An Edgar clone was the first to touch it curiously. It lookedhuman, but no sane human would fall asleep willingly in a dangerous environment such as the studio.

A Charlie clone wandered close to it and pressed a hand against its arm. It was warm, very unlike the cold ink they were used to. Almost like the fireplace they liked.

It was a Barley clone that finally decided to take the risk and press his body against the pillow. He let out a positive purr at the warmth that the pillow practically exuded, plus with the fire radiating warmth as well.

It melted away the coldness of the Ink, replacing it with the warmth that only the fire would give them. Maybe even more warmer than the fire.

It didn’t take long for all of the Butcher Gang clones to gather around the pillow and quietly drift to sleep in content. For once, nobody dreamed of the agonizing screams that dwelled within the Ink.

Henry would later find himself drying off his ink-soaked clothes after he woke up covered with the Butcher Gang Clones all over him.

---

It had honestly been a complete accident caused by the dumbest luck to ever exist and gravity deciding not to be nice to Henry at the time.

He had just been about to remove one of the bolts from Bertrum’s carousel arm when he slippedon absolutely nothing and in pure dumb luck, tumbled into one of Bertrum’s carts.

This happened at the same time when his brain decided that it was time to wind down and send him to sleep at the worst timing possible, just when Bertrum regained his integrity and began spinning around his carts again.

Except Henry was in one of those carts, fast asleep and nicely tucked into the ride.

Bertrum hadn’t even noticed the sleeping human in his cart until he finally realized that Henry wasn’t scampering around him like a mouse, and a strange quiet snoring from one of his carts.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He muttered when he slowly rotated his arm to see the sleeping human. “I come back as this, and you sleep when I’m trying to murder you. Unbelievable.”

Henry snored back in response.

Bertrum tossed the human on the ground and crushed him under the cart.  

Henry would later wake up in front of a Bendy statue with a killer headache, puzzled over why his head was hurting so much.

---

The Projectionist stared down at the PREYhuman he had been chasing down not long ago before the man had spectacularly tripped, and the ink creature was currently watching the man’s body float in the ink.

It had been a while since the man had tripped and he still hasn’t gotten up from the ink. If anything, the Projectionist could see a few bubbles popping up to the surface of the ink.

Something which a small part of him knew that it wasn’t good for the WANDERERhuman.

He was going to drown in the Ink.

The Projectionist grasped the back of the INTRUDERhuman’s shirt and heaved him out of the ink with relative ease. Ink dribbled down the TARGETman’s face which the Projectionist wiped away curiously to take a better look at the VICTIMman’s face.

Disheveled hair with streaks of grey, a few cuts marring his face-

Henry

The Projectionist’s light flickered at the name that was softly whispered in his head. He knew this PREy human who he had been chasing since he first set his light on him.

For the first time in forever, Norman Polk reclaimed a part of his sentience since his dip into madness.

The projectionist frowned as he realized that he was holding none other than the CREATORstudio’s former co-creator, in his hand.

Said co-creator was also fast asleep, despite having his face dunked into cold ink for a while too.

Norman’s light dimmed slightly, and the projectionist shook the FRIEND man lightly. Henry barely even stirred.

Norman stared at Henry incredulously for a while before an old memory played in his head.

Henry falling asleep on his desk, a noisy janitor struggling to move the animator out of his office and him volunteering to carry the man-

“It’s narcolepsy. Sometimes, I just fall asleep and I can’t help it.”

“If you see Henry asleep on his desk, just carry him to the couch and leave him there. He’ll wake up by himself.”

Norman dimmed his light slightly as he readjusted his grip on Henry, this time wrapping one arm behind Henry’s back and the other arm ducked under the animator’s knees.

It wasn’t hard to change his hold as Henry was the short man that Norman could just barely remember him to be. Maybe he had grown a few inches, but overall, he was still tiny compared to the taller projectionist.

Norman wracked his brain – whatever was left of it anyway – for resting spots that he could hide Henry in. The studio had long gone to hell, nowhere was safe anymore.

Norman couldn’t just lump the animator onto a random couch and leave him there, or else Henry wouldn’t last a second.

He’d be discovered by the other denizens of the studio quickly, and Norman wasn’t sure when would the next time he’d reclaim his sentience back ever again.

Ensuring that Henry was in his hold firmly, Norman left the flooded Maintenance room with his charge and began to seek for a safe place he could hide Henry in.

Henry would wake up eventually, and perhaps he and Norman could finally catch up with each other. It’s been far too long after all.

---

Henry quietly gasped awake as his mind snapped itself back to consciousness, disorienting himself in the process. He had been riding the cart when Alice was speaking to him with that taunting voice, daring to talk about Boris in front of him.

Then she had said something about a ride before something grabbed the cart Henry was in and threw him off.

It took a while for Henry to slowly register the feelings in his body though oddly enough, he couldn’t move them.

‘Sleep paralysis. Must’ve kicked in this time.’ He noted to himself mentally, letting his eyes crack open.

He suddenly wished he didn’t do that when the first thing to greet his eyes was rib bonesand blobs of ink.

From the corner of his eyes, Boris’ X-ed out eyes gazed down on him eerily. Henry inwardly gulped.

Why does he keep falling asleep at the wrong time?

[yun-shuten]

Narcolepsy

Summary: Henry’s narcoleptic and a deep sleeper as well. Cue the disbelief. 

A thousands apologies if I got symptoms/effects of narcolepsy wrong.

Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

Bendy had been searching for his elusive Creator when there was a resounding thump that echoed throughout the floor. 

Normally it wouldn’t have interested the Ink demon seeing how some of the toons here were clumsy enough to trip over their own legs. 

However not long ago he had been chasing after his Creator who he had spotted on the floor. 

The human managed to elude Bendy this time but that just meant he was still on this floor. He must be because Bendy had been near the stairs the entire time and he had not seen a hair or skin of the human. 

“Creatoooor…!” He gurgled out with a wide grin, making his way over to the source of the noise and taking the inky web with him. 

Bendy had expected to see his Creator up to something, probably following the orders of the false Angel and stare at Bendy with unbridled fear, like always. He expected himself to be cackling in delighted glee as he chased down the human again to give him the death he so rightfully deserved. 

Instead, Bendy tripped over the body on the floor and landed on the floor with a wet splat. 

“Wha’ the heck?!” Bendy growled, hastily getting on his legs and glared down at the body on the floor. 

His forced smile dropped when he realised who exactly was it on the floor: the Creator himself. Yet he wasn’t moving. Not a single twitch or a shift of movement. 

‘Is he dead?’ Bendy frowned with concern, this wasn’t part of the game. 

He was the one who was supposed to kill the Creator, hell he even chased him all over the floor and this was the thanks he got for that?

The ink demon leaned in closer to his Creator and inspected him closely. 

His Creator still wasn’t moving… But he was breathing. 

And if Bendy strained his nonexistent ears, he could very vaguely make out extremely quiet snores. 

Was… Was his Creator asleep?

In the middle of a corridor? 

On a floor that he was fully aware Bendy was lurking in, searching to end the Creator’s life in as many painful ways possible so he’d pay for betraying the toons and Bendy?

If it wasn’t for how flabbergasted Bendy was, he would’ve probably murdered his Creator immediately for making a fool out of Bendy. 

‘But then again, it didn’t seem intentional.’ Bendy mused, staring down at the man warily, ‘… It must be a trick. Nobody just falls asleep in the middle of the hall like this.’ 

He shook his head and prodded one inky finger at the Creator’s side. 

No movement. 

Bendy experimentally grabbed the man’s shoulders and shook him back and forth. 

The Creator’s eyes were still shut, blissfully dreaming away.

Bendy pried open the Creator’s eyelids and stare into the man’s eyes that looked so far away. 

The moment he released them, they slid back shut automatically. 

Bendy bellowed an earsplitting screech that shook the floor. 

The Creator barely even stirred. 

“Well now how’re we supposed to continue the game now?” The ink demon grumbled.

With an indignant huff, Bendy dropped his Creator back on the floor and scratched his deformed head. This was not going according to plan. 

The Creator was breaking the rules and Bendy couldn’t get him to stop because nobody told him that the Creator slept like a rock. 

The scene was almost comedic honestly. Here he was, the Ink Demon who was feared throughout the corrupted studio, impatiently waiting for his renegade prey to wake up. 

Judging how the Creator barely reacted to Bendy’s prodding, it would be safe to say that the human was not going to wake up anytime soon. 

Fantastic. 

---

Boris wasn’t sure what to think of Henry at first. 

When Boris found Henry, the human was bleeding and bruised all over, and his clothes were ruined by ink splatters. He was incredibly wary of the toon at first, but somehow he knew Boris’ name. 

Boris knew there were others like him - his clones to say it simply - but most of them had been hunted down by the Angel down below. There was the chance that Henry had come from above as well, but that was impossible. Nobody ever entered the studio from the outside world. 

The Ink Demon made sure of that. 

It wasn’t too difficult to guide the human to the safe house, even if the human passed out halfway and Boris had to carry his small body. 

The perks of being together with another sentient creature was that you got to learn things about them that didn’t quite match with the mindless entities. 

For instance, Henry was fond of games. While the human’s injuries were healing, he and Boris played several games of card and even kept a tally board of who won the most.

So far, Boris was winning. 

Secondly, Henry was apparently prone to fall asleep at any time whether he was sitting on a chair or standing on the floor. 

Time to time, Boris would walk to the main room of the safe house to find Henry lying on the ground or snoozing on the chair. 

The first few times, he tried to wake the man up but he was quick to understand that Henry was a deep sleeper. 

Eventually, Boris simply resigned to carrying the human back to his cot whenever he found Henry asleep.

Boris couldn’t ask him why he kept sleeping on the floor either since he lacked a voice of his own. 

Henry however seemed to always pick up Boris’ silent words, something which the wolf was grateful for. 

“I’m narcoleptic,” The human told him while he turned the stove on, “It’s a disorder that makes me really sleepy during the day. For some people, it can be gradual or sudden, and in my case, it’s pretty sudden. So sudden that I’ll be walking and then just splat, go asleep.” 

He chuckled softly, “It scared a lot of my colleagues when they first found out, but they got over it and started putting me on the couch whenever they could.”

They stayed in the safe house for another day to ensure that Henry’s wounds had finished healing up, before deciding to venture back out into the studio.

Boris kept his ears alert for any sign of the other denizens of the studio or the familiar thump of Henry’s body passing on the floor. 

So far, so good. 

Henry didn’t show any signs of falling asleep either, in fact he seemed a lot more awake and alert than ever. Although that could be attributed to most of their time shared was spent in the safe house so Henry had no reason to be alert. 

Then Henry left Boris in the elevator ( “I’m not going to fall asleep anytime soon buddy, I promise that.” ) and Boris could hear Alice’s voice over the intercom. Henry must’ve found her. 

To his relief, Henry returned to the elevator relatively unscathed from Alice’s introduction, with the exception of ink splattering his clothes - though really, that was to be expected in a place like this.  Apparently Alice promised them release if Henry gathered objects for her. 

“You stay in the elevator while I find the things she want.” Henry said to him while he punched in one of the buttons in the elevator, “We’ll be out of here before you know it.” 

Funny. Boris can vaguely remember someone telling him the exact same thing. He stayed in the elevator just as Henry instructed him to do while the human went to fulfil Alice’s tasks. Occasionally he’d see the searchers crawl past the elevator, ignoring his presence entirely just as always. 

Thump.

Boris felt his dread spike.

He recognised the sound. It was the distinct thud of a body hitting the floor, just like Henry falling asleep, except he wasn’t anywhere near Boris for the wolf to pick him up. He was far outside the elevator with the searchers and Alice, and likely where the Ink Demon was lurking too. 

Boris scrambled out of the elevator in a hurry. There was no telling what would happen to Henry while the human slept through his narcolepsy induced nap, and considering the deep sleeper Henry was, he probably wouldn’t wake up even if someone shook him back and forth. 

Boris would know, he tried that. 

There was an angry screech that definitely belonged to the Ink Demon, and Boris was fast to find the nearest corner to hide in because he is not going to mess with the Ink Demon ever again. He cowered there for a while, letting a few seconds pass after the scream before he hesitantly looked up. 

The Ink Demon wasn’t anywhere near him. Did it find Henry? 

Boris sure hoped not.

He shakily wandered deeper into the hallways, slowly but surely getting closer to where he heard the Ink Demon scream and-

Boris quickly darted back behind the corner of the wall he had been passing and cautiously peeked over the edge.

Henry was there, lying on the ground but so was the Ink Demon who was walking back and forth impatiently, the inky web following him in his every step. 

Oddly enough, the Ink Demon hadn’t mangled Henry’s body yet. Maybe he thought Henry was dead?

Then Boris might have a chance to retrieve Henry before the Ink Demon noticed that Henry was asleep and not actually dead. 

It was a blessing that Henry had passed out close to the corner that Boris was hiding behind, as the wolf dragged the human’s body with him as quietly as he could. 

The Ink Demon had heard the shuffling of fabric against the wooden floorboards, and realised Henry’s disappearance. 

Boris was already out of there by the time the Ink Demon looked into the spot that Boris had been hiding in not so long ago. 

As soon as Boris carried Henry into the elevator, he punched one of the elevator buttons and watched the elevator descend down below, just in time for the Ink Demon to arrive in front of the leaving elevator. 

Boris let out a silent sigh of relief once the Ink Demon was out of view and sat on the elevator’s floor. He glanced at Henry who was still positively asleep despite the close call with Bendy, and was even curling up on the floor.

Hopefully Alice wouldn’t mind waiting for a bit longer for whatever assignment she gave Henry to be completed.