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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

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Sammy and Jack. “Can we stay like this forever?”

Crisis of Faith, chapter 2

Sammy didn’t dream of Jack again until his next crisis of faith, and Sammy’s faith was very difficult to break. It had begun while Sammy, now a lost one made of fluid ink, was hiding in a wall, watching as a severely ink-infected woman raved.

“Mother, why do you punish me!?” she shouted as, with all the power left in her body, she tried to force open the padlocked doors of the women’s washroom. Her veins, prominent due to age and leanness, were a pitch-black web on her skin, and her wiry muscles had wasted away to bone.

Sammy had, on Joey’s command, overseen dozens of ink infections by now, and knew that there was nothing unusual about Emma Lamont’s case of it. Every single victim he had overseen had held some kind of delusion. Some believed that they were being poisoned by the government or their enemies, or that they were developing a mental illness. A very common one, however, was that they were receiving some sort of punishment, test, or reward from an all-powerful being- either God, or from a seemingly random entity that they’d decided to treat as one.

What if... Sammy’s beliefs were no different from this madwoman, screaming at the ghost of her mother?

Sammy moved on to check on the other infection victims. Even if Bendy wasn’t to be worshipped, the thought of ascension was all that kept him going. He sacrificed people on Joey’s command because the ink had told him to. He wrote his scriptures because he believed they were meaningful. He led the lost ones to Bendy and away from the lies their voices had told them because he truly believed that his voice had been the truth, and it seemed to give them hope, too.

Sammy passed through the prison of ink creatures as he made his way to Joey’s sanctuary, where he now slept. A Charley was repeatedly banging its head against the bars of its cage. Lost ones wept. Ink stained every surface, making the brightly-lit room feel suffocatingly dark. Sammy was glad to phase through the wall into Joey’s sanctuary, where he could lie down on the couch and rest.

All this had to be leading to something. He couldn’t take it otherwise.

---

Sammy woke to the feeling of someone softly shaking him awake. He opened his eyes to see Jack, tears in his eyes and that disarming smile on his face.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Jack asked gently.

Sammy, with a bit of difficulty, sat up and realized that he was in a hospital room, complete with an IV in his arm. He felt very weak, but also lighter- like a burden had been taken off of him. “Awful,” he admitted.

“Well, you want some good news? The ink is gone. All of it. You still have a lot of organ damage, but it’s nothing they can’t fix in a couple weeks. In other words, it’s over, Sammy. You’re gonna be okay.”

It took Sammy a half a minute to even process that. Once he did, though, he broke into tears of relief and hugged Jack as tightly as he could.

“Thank you. God, thank you for making me come here. You saved my life.”

Jack hugged him back. “Hey, I didn’t make you do anything. I know this took a lot of courage for you. And... I’m really glad you did it. I was so scared when I found you in your sanctuary. You were so sick... I thought I’d lose you. Sammy, I think I love you. But... we can talk about that later. Right now, you need to rest.”

“I love you, too.” Easiest words Sammy had ever said.

After a little more chatting, Jack left. Sammy wandered over to the bathroom to get a look at himself in the mirror. Admittedly, he didn’t look great. He looked like a person who’d narrowly survived a life-threatening illness, because that’s what he was. His skin was still pale and sunken, and he was still pretty gaunt, but the black veins, the bruise-like purple splotches on his skin, and even the staining in his mouth and his long, blond hair- it was gone. When Sammy woke, he would have given anything to see his human face again.

---Two years later---

As often happened whenever Sammy decided to play his banjo, a small crowd had gathered around him. Today, the crowd consisted of three lost ones, Jack (of course), a moderately ink-infected woman, and one of their last healthy men. The song Sammy was playing was "I’ll fly away.” He wasn’t singing it today, but he had sang it for his followers in the past, simply replacing the word, “God’s” with “his,” since “Bendy’s,” unfortunately, was two syllables.

“You know, it’s amazing how you can remember music like that,” said David, the only non-infected person in attendance. “I'm already forgetting the words to my favourite songs since it’s been so long since we’ve been able to just turn on a radio. How do you do it?”

Sammy would have smiled if he still had a mouth. “Well, a part of it is just natural ability,” Sammy admitted. “But. I have a secret to tell you. A part of it is faith. Faith can do great things. Collective faith in Bendy is the reason that we are the largest organization in this dimension. This village was built on faith. Faith keeps us united! Faith keeps us safe! And... faith allows me to to see into the old world every night when I close my eyes. I hope that all of you one day achieve that absolute belief that something in this world is good.”

“Heh. I’m trying. But all I have are nightmares of Bendy,” a lost one complained.

“Well, keep trying. Believe in his benevolence.” With that, Sammy got up and left for bed, patting Jack on the head on the way out. If only they knew that he used to be plagued by those same nightmares.

---

Sammy’s dream came in to form. He was on a bus, sitting next to Jack. Outside their window, snow was falling gently over a pretty, snow-covered forest. For a while Sammy just sat in peace, holding Jack’s hand and enjoying the scenery.

“Excited to see your parents again? I know I can’t wait to meet them.”

Sammy nodded. “I can’t wait.” Sammy had always wanted to introduce Jack to his parents. He remembered that there was a strong reason why he hadn’t done it while he was alive, but he couldn’t remember what it was. “My Dad is going to love you. You’re a lot like him, you know. Do you remember why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Because I’m a man,” Jack answered, totally calm.

“Oh!” Sammy had forgotten a lot about the outside world since his transformation, but nothing so big as the existence of homophobia. It was kind of alarming that the ink was affecting his brain that much. “God. I’m so... forgetful. I’ll just have to introduce you as my musical partner or something. It’s unconventional, but they've seen me do weirder.”

“You know, Sammy, it’s like you got new lease on life after the ink incident. I love that. But yeah, you’re forgetting things left and right!” Jack teasingly jabbed him with his elbow.

“Yeah... Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Jack said. Sammy worried what Jack would think, but looking into those calm brown eyes, he trusted him to not to react badly. And it would be nice to have one person he didn’t have to lie to.

“This is a dream. In the real world, I never got help for my ink infection, and now me and dozens of other people are trapped a dimension full of monsters. I’m holding a large band of people together by convincing them to collectively worship one of them. And you,” Sammy took a deep breath, “you’re there, too. But you haven’t had a coherent thought in years. I keep hoping that one day, we’ll make it out, and I’ll be able to confess to you and we’ll actually build a life like this. So... I’m forgetful because that ink is affecting my mind, and I’m happy because this world is my escape. And because you’re here, of course.” Sammy couldn’t meet Jack’s eyes. He’d probably just made himself sound like a lunatic.

Jack turned Sammy’s head to look at him. “Hey. I believe you. And... that sounds really rough. I wish I could help you.”

Sammy smiled. “Thanks. But you've been helping me all along.” Sammy laid his head on Jack’s shoulder. Maybe once the bus stopped, they’d get some hot chocolate and look at some shops before seeing his parents. It would be nice.

---

Sammy was violently shaken awake by a trio of searchers. More were behind them- as though half the village had crammed itself into his bedroom.

“Bendy is here!” one of them yelled. “What do we do?”

That was a good question. Sammy reached for his axe, but then he stopped. This was, according to the gospel he’d been feeding them, their saviour. “Go out to greet him,” Sammy instructed, trying not to sound as hesitant as he felt. “Bring him offerings of bacon soup. Bring everyone, even the Boris clones- they used to be human, too.”

The crowd of lost ones dispersed. Sammy watched with bated breath from the balcony of his lost-one village home as a massive crowd- lost ones, searchers, people both infected and healthy, and their three Boris clones- gathered along the ink river. Dozens of cans of bacon soup were placed along the river bank as an offering. Bendy stood on the other side of the river. Their drawbridge lowered, but Bendy decided instead to walk on the ink’s surface like the God they treated him as. The crowd gasped and made way. Bendy took an ink-infected man in one arm, stroked his cheek, and bit his face off.

Screams filled the air. People ran in all directions. Sammy was frozen for several seconds before he took action.

“Everyone! Run for cover! We have displeased him! I repeat, run for cover!” Sammy's booming, demonic voice covered the great distance it needed to. Upon seeing the people run and Bendy chase after them, Sammy himself slammed shut his doors and windows and listened in horror to the screams.

When it was over, all he could think to tell his people was that they needed to reconsider how they were paying tribute to the ink demon. If they changed their methods just a little, then the demon would be helpful instead of violent, and they would be freed.

To Sammy’s mixed relief, they actually believed it.

---

eleven years went by. Within the first three, every single flesh-and-blood person in the sketch dimension was infected, killed, or both, and became a lost one.

Their minds were rotting. Increasing numbers of lost ones struggled to remember anything about themselves or the outside world. Wandering aimlessly or resting in ink puddles, they were helpless as zombies.

But not Sammy. Sammy remained- comparatively, at least- as sharp as a whip, and told the lost ones tales so vivid about the outside world that they could almost taste its brilliance and freedom. Sammy only wished that Jack- the real Jack- could understand any of it.

There was nothing to do about that but what Sammy had been doing all along: keep the community together. Keep the lost ones moralized and sane. Figuratively and literally dream of a better world. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Sammy didn’t want to forget a thing about the real world, but little pieces had fallen away, bit by bit. In his dreams, there were now places he couldn’t visit because he didn’t remember what they were like. His reflection in the mirror had become a human-shaped blur as he forgot his appearance. The same thing had happened to the faces of people he used to remember clear as day. One day, he would forget it all, too- just as everyone else had.

It was hard to keep hope.

One of Sammy’s dreams found him walking down a beach with Jack at his side. Sammy knew that the two of them had relocated at some point, but he didn’t know to where. His American geography was rather fuzzy at this point.

“Can I vent to you about the other world?” Sammy asked.

“Sure,” Jack said. Jack was one thing that Sammy’s memory hadn’t gone fuzzy on. Sammy still remembered every soft curve of his face, every freckle, every detail. His dark brown hair was starting to grey, but not because Sammy remembered him that way- it had been many years, and growing old together was part of the fantasy.

“Bendy came to the village again today. He killed a few lost ones and then left. People are losing faith in me and I don’t know how to get it back. And to make matters worse, a false prophet is going around saying we should worship the angel instead! She’d enslave us if we did that!" Sammy chucked a baseball-sized rock into the water, then composed himself a bit. “And you know, we’re all going to be mindless drones eventually. I’m thinking... maybe I won’t fight the false prophet. I could leave the village, hide in a vent, and spend as little time awake as possible. Ink creatures can sleep for days, you know. What do say? Can we stay like this forever? Enjoy this world until I lose my mind like all the rest?” Sammy took Jack’s hands and looked desperately into his eyes.

Jack hesitated, but by the look on his face, Sammy already knew what his answer would be. “I’m sorry. You know I have to say no. The lost ones need you.”

“But why am I the one who has to stay strong for them? I’m sick of it.”

“Because you’re the one who can. I know it isn’t fair, but you’re the reason they’ve been protecting each other. And it sounds like if you leave them now, they’ll throw themselves at Alice. Do it for them. And if you can’t bring yourself to care about them... do it for me. The real me. You still love him, right?”

“Of course...” Sammy probably would have done this sooner if he didn’t care about the well-being of his searcher friend.

Jack put a hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “I don’t know how, but you’ll get out some day. And in the meantime, I’m here.”

Sammy tried to think of some objection, but he couldn’t. He muttered a “thanks” and kept walking along the beach. Jack followed. It was, if nothing else, a beautiful night, and he might as well enjoy it.

“Jack... tell me what I look like. I don’t care that it’ll just be something you made up. Tell me anyhow.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Jack Fain #sammy lawrence #sammy x jack #my fanfiction #threadedsafetypin #thanks for the ask

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secretsideofme95 · 5 years

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This Is My Story!

So, I’m just going to get all this out, I did something similar on new years, i sat down with someone and just spilled everything. I talked and talked and talked i just told everything, things ive never told anyone. But now i’m gonna get it all out, so here it is. My story.

I have never done anything like this so i am not quite sure how to do this but here we go.

Like many others growing up in primary school and secondary school i was bullied. I grew up with a lisp, i struggled with saying S and any words with it in. I had people older then me making fun of it i even had a teacher trying to convince me it was my fault and i just couldn't speak properly. At first i didn't understand why i was being asked to say words with S in it, but quickly i found out. it ended up making me so self conscious i got shy and quiet and just hid away and kept to myself. This was going on from like year 4 when i was 6/7 (i think i cant remember) Truth is from my childhood i dont remember anything good, i have no memories of anytime playing with friends going out having fun even just playing, only things i remember from my past at this time is just bullying.

In secondary school i remember again getting made fun of for my lisp, but also told i was ugly and that no one would wanna be with me. i had all these people making fun of me, i didn't fit in any of the groups i didn't even want to, i thought all this group stuff was stupid, so even just coz i wasn't part of the popular kids or the cool kids that ment bully me. people found anything to make fun of. i started self harming around 13. In school both primary and secondary i never really had friends so never had any after school activities, never went round someones house, i never went out with friends, i just went home. which i lived in a flat with my mum, a one bedroom flat. The council wouldn't move us despite my age, i had the bedroom my mum had the front room as her room. but ofcorse people still made fun of that coz we couldn't afford a house like they could.

Home, You would think that would be better but not really, i was a only child so i was on my own again, while at home i would do whatever i could to pass the time, i watched allot of movies, this is where i got into games, was a getaway, i could be someone else, i could pretend to be anyone. pretend i wasn't alone. so yes my mum was there, in a sense anyway. she would work all day and had an iron deficiency, so she would work all day, volunteering in a charity shop (another thing people made fun of me for) she would come home and just go to sleep, that was it she would go to work then go to sleep. I learnt to take care of myself, cook for myself. I became independent and i grew up i was basically living on my own at the age of 15.

When i was 18, at college, there was this one particular day, one day that stuck with me, i came back home from college, and there was a padlock on the door and an eviction notice, the council had kicked us out. all i had was the stuff for college that day and that was it. my mum went and stayed with her boyfriend, i had to find somewhere to stay, with no close friends and no other family was harder then you'd think. luckily i found someone who i knew who let me stay a few days, it grew us closer together she ended up becoming one of my best friends, which was good coz i was homeless and for the next 7 months was the hardest time of my life, so many times i wanted to give up and end it, so many times i just couldn't carry on, i had not much of my stuff, i had no privacy, no room for myself, i had to revolve my life around everyone else, whoever’s i was staying at. for 7 months i was at college Monday to Friday all day 9am till 5pm then Tuesday till Sunday from 6pm until 11pm i had work. then then same every day. it was so hard all the stress, having to find somewhere new to stay every few days. worrying about money about college work. about normal work. about what if the day comes i wont be able to find somewhere to stay.

I wish i could say it ends there but it dosnt. since then to this day i have been homeless (well sofa surfing) 3 times. every time getting worse and worse. This really is not helping my mental health at all.

So this is not everything tho, around the time i was 18 i was dating this girl, She was blond, so beautiful, she was such an incredible girl she was perfect and i loved her. after 3 years we broke up, i still loved her, i was 18 i was stupid and acted before i though, we had got into an argument after we had broke up, started on twitter actually. Allot was said between both of us, but she was suffering from bad mental health aswell as i was, i said some nasty stuff we both did, but i tipped her over the edge, shes told me after this happened that it wasn't my fault, she was already at the point i just pushed it that tiny bit over, but she tried to commit suicide like 4 times, everything got too much for her, i didn't know about this, not until i went back to college and i saw her one day, i saw the bandages, i saw the marks, i saw what i had done to her, people have said it wasn't me shes said it wasn't my fault, but i cant help feeling guilty, i cant help thinking what if i hadn't got in that argument what if i reacted differently, it wasn't my fault yet i feel guilty to this day, 6 years later this still lays heavy on my conscience, seeing what it had done too her, i couldn't take it. This is what has made me so bad, what has turned me into this, this is what made me become this.

i have learnt from this, i think before i speak, im terrified of confrontation, im terrified of arguments, i cant walk away i cant leave people when they are upset or angry, even if i get in an argument, i cave in, i give in and i usually give them whatever they want, i dont want this happen again so i do what i have to to stop the argument even if its not what i want, even if it hurts. i cant go through that again, it would kill me and destroy me more then it already has.

This is why i dont think i deserve to be happy, what i did to her, what happened, im getting what i deserve.

Every relationship ive had literally all of them except for this blond (including the ones before her) have all cheated on me, they have all used me, all played me. for one reason or another, i always get hurt. i pour my soul in, i give everything i can put in all effort and do whatever i can for them to make them happy, to give them what they want, and each one just takes me for grated and takes more, and more of me, slowly they are taking everything and soon there is going to be nothing left.

My family, that dosnt exist, none of them talk to me, wanna know me, they dont even know anything about me, nothing happened just slowly they all stopped talking to me, now even if i try messaging them not a single one will reply, even when i was in the hospital for my operation. no one cared to even ask why. when i need help most, not a single one cared.

my friends, i barley have any anymore, those that i do dont live close to me. all my friends i had i lost, my 2 best friends were married (together) i was actually living with them until a month ago, until they decided to turn their back on me, give me 3 days to get my stuff and move out, they were even so nice as to give me no help, even got me fired from my job on the same day.

my mental health gets worse and worse every day, not a day goes by i wish i was dead to be completely honest, i dont wanna live this life anymore i dont wanna live all this shit im done, but i carry on living through this shitty existence for those few people who still care. and every single day is hell fighting myself fighting my urges, being at war with yourself is the hardest battle to go through. every night i go to sleep crying, every morning i wake up wishing i hadnt. i would do anything to have a cuddle, i would do anything to just fall asleep with someone.

My love life, well thatch just non existent. in the last 4 months i had 4 dates, date 1, goes well have fun went out for a drink had a laugh blah blah blah, she said shed love to see me again soon, i was a lovely guy she really liked me. ofcorse i never heard from her again. date 2, go out for a drink to get to know each other, again goes well connected got on well im a nice guy how am i single, anyone would be lucky to have me, again, dosnt ever contact me again. date 3, so talking for ages been going round there spending time with here cuddling, then out of no where she tells me shes seeing someone after telling me she likes me but isn't ready for a relationship so might take some time for us. well that was bullshit coz she got straight into one with some other guy within a week saying she loves him. so date 4 a few weeks ago, been talking goes week meet up and yeah same story how am i single anyone will be lucky im the perfect guy shes looking for, so we arrange a date to go and have dinner together i was gonna cook for her, on the day tho she stops talking to me, dont here from her for another week, she tells me she ditched me coz she found someone. so once again same shit happens despite that she said she wouldn't and all that bullshit ... guys are not the only ones that can be dicks to people and fuck them over. i have given up completely, stopped looking, stopped feeling, stopped caring..

my sleeping is i dont even know how to explain it, i dont sleep much most nights im awake with my thoughts, i get maybe 2 hours a sleep a night if that, i just no matter how tired i am i cant fall asleep, i cant relax and switch off. im sitting here now running on no sleep for 48 hours and i cant fall asleep. so here i am writing this. when i do sleep i regularly have nightmares, bad nightmares, but ive got so used to them now, its normal to have them and dosnt even bother me anymore, used to terrify me. now i hope they are real i hope that that dream i die, is not a dream. when i sleep i feel nothing, its the closest to death ill get, its peace.

i broke my leg 3 years ago at a trampoline park, ever since then ive been in constant pain every single day, bad excruciating pain, im on strong opioid painkillers to try and control the pain, im on Tramadol, codeine and naproxen every day, and im still in pain, i cant straighten my leg, i cant walk properly. ive had surgery on it, ive done physio and it isn't helping, im stuck like this, im stuck in pain every single day and there is nothing they can do.

so you wanna know how i feel every day, inside my head im fighting a war, fighting myself, trying to find a reason to go on to get through another shitty day on this earth with things never getting any better, im tired of being alive, fed up of being someone that when things start going right or better, something rips it out from under me and pulls me back down even worse then before. im terrified of being happy, im terrified of good things. do you know what its like to be scared of just being happy, what its like being scared when you meet someone good, or make a friend.everyday im looking for something to make me feel something, because honestly now, i feel absolutely nothing, i feel empty. nothing affects me anymore, nothing gets me low, gets me sad. everything is being taken from me. all this shit, my life has taken everything from me and the only thing that is left for this shitty life to take is my beating heat and my conscience. and im not sure how long i can hold out for, and the only reason i am is for the 1 or 2 people that actually care, they may not be close but i know it will hurt them. and i dont want them going through that.

i would do anything to be a dad i wanna be one so bad, in my head anyway, in reality im terrified to have kids, i am terrified they will turn out like me, im scared they will go through this, im scared they will get the same thing as me, i wouldn't want anyone to live with this, i know that i dont. i defiantly would never want my own child too,

i need help, but i dont know what will, i dont know what can help. i think im too far gone and its too late.

my life is and endless series of train-wrecks, only i have no intervals of happiness, i have no happiness or even anything close. just when i dont think things can get worse they do.

everything one way or another fucks me over, everything one way or another at some point hurts me, /// i dont think some people are ment to be happy, and i am one of them. some people are ment to suffer. and i dont know how much more i can take. i dont see what more could happen, but im sure it will. and im waiting for the day it gets too much. i dont even know how i got this far.

I know that no one cares, not about this, not about me. but its ok.

im used to it. this is my life. this is my normal. this is the real me ...

But this face smile, this mask ... this is what everyone else sees, ...

#mylife #my story #story #my life #life #me #self #myself #depression #suicidal #suicide #sad #lonely #you are not alone #depressed #selfie

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