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Henry slowed as he walked through Joey's apartment door and entered the studio once again.
How long had he been doing this?
He ran away from Bendy, crashing down through the caving floorboards away from his exit.
How many times had he gone through this?
Escaping Sammy, meeting Boris and making him soup-
It never seemed to end. No matter what he tried to do.
"GIVE ME BACK MY BORIS!!"
Again, and again, he'd fall. Again and again, he'd lose his friend.
"Boris.. run.." Gangly arms seized the wolf and dragged him away while Henry could only lie there and do nothing.
What was the point of it all? Nothing ever seemed to change. No matter how Henry tried to alter fate, to do something different, it always ended the same way.
"NO!! NO! NO! NO! WHY CAN'T YOU EVER JUST DIE??"
"Sheep sheep sheep.. it's time for.. sleep! UGHH!!"
He was forced to kill Boris. Sammy died. Allison and Tom were left behind as Henry went on alone to face his demon. A demon that Joey had created.
He clung desperately to the wall as the hulking behemoth of an ink demon flew past him at blazing speeds, shaking the ground violently with his charging footsteps. The man was pouring sweat, panting heavily, inflicted with more wounds than he knew what to do with. But he still made that final heave, that final push to flip the last lever that would lead him through and eventually back to the reel room.
He was so exhausted, so tired of it all. He just wanted to rest. To linger in the apartment after the world had bleached to white. He stayed a little longer every time. But even it, was starting to get old..
He had been here so many times, he had memorized every detail of the rooms, knew Joey's speech by heart, though, once in a blue moon, it changed ever so slightly. And then, back through the door he went, right back to square one.
Henry supposed.. there wasn't much else he could do, but press on, through the looping timeline again and again, in some search of hope of escape from this place. The times he did want to give up, to give into despair, he felt a gentle nudge on his shoulder. He remembered Linda, and how he needed to get home to her. So, he picked himself up, and pressed on.
Again.
And again.
And again.
This was the fate of Henry Stein it seemed. Trapped, just like the rest of his cohorts, doomed to endlessly loop through the studio, yearning for the taste of freedom once more.
But he couldn't give up. They wouldn't let him give up. One day, he'd find a way to break this sickening groundhog day, and when he did, things would be different. For all of them.
He WOULD keep his promise. He would set them all free.