The old film reels still roll in a God-knows-how-long old studio. Scribbling could be heard in a distant hallway just near the animations room. A slim, teenager-sized creature was drawing pictures with just his finger.

The figure's name was Bendy, an old cartoon from the old, classic days when cartoons were on the big screen. He just finished a sketch of himself and his old partner, Boris the Wolf. He smiled, remembering the good old times and the laughs they spent. Boris was practically his older brother.

"I miss ya buddy," he said in a raspy male voice.

He forgot he hasn't used his real voice in a long time, because he would only talk to Henry, Boris, or Alice with that voice.

Henry, his creator, his friend, his father.

"Where are you Henry?" Bendy missed his creator. He wanted so badly to meet him in person.

Bendy believed he wasn't like the others. The ones who used rituals to make him and his friends real, the ones who dissected Boris, the ones who made a mirrored abomination of himself. He thought it was hilarious how they thought they only made one of him.

God, how wrong were they.

He stopped pondering and layed back trying to go to sleep. He was about to close his eyes before he heard the entrance open. Nobody has shown up for four years.

He was about to hide but then he heard a familiar voice.

"Alright Joey, I'm here. Let's see if I can find what you wanted me to see."

Bendy ran over to the hallway to see a familiar face.

"...Henry?"