Septiplier One Shots

Death Vs. Love

(Mark's P.O.V.)

It's been two months. Two months since my life's gone to hell and it became weird and wacky. The last two months I've escaped death about a total of twenty-three times. Each one was a near crazy accident. I have no clue how or why these accidents keep happening, but I'm starting to get tired of constantly being on my toes, ready to jump or roll out of the way in a split second.

You may be saying "But Mark... How "crazy" can these accidents be?". Well let me give you some examples. Seven weeks ago I rolled out of the way of a falling lamppost. Five weeks ago I almost got hit by a car... With no driver in it. Three weeks ago my kitchen oven exploded RIGHT after I walked out of my house. One week ago I almost got impaled by a flying knife.

And just yesterday I had to duck out of the way of glass flying towards me... From a store window. The windows broke as I walked past them, and if I didn't react in time, they would have cut me up into little bits of Mark.

And this isn't just in town either. No. It's in my home, it's at my friends houses, it's at conventions. It started at a convention for gods sake! It's all so stupid and, in all honesty, I'm a little scared. Cause, no one can dodge forever. One day, if this keeps up, I'm just not gonna be quick enough. I just wish I knew why this was happening.

There's no logical answer for these crazy phenomenon. None, zip, zero. Whatever term you wanna use, won't change the answer. These accidents are so weird, so supernatural, it just doesn't make sense. Which scares me even more. It's harder to prepare or prevent something when you don't understand it. Plus there isn't any pattern. It just happens randomly.

Right now I'm not doing much. I'm just sitting in my recording space, finishing up with some editing that needed to be done. And... There. I smile at my progress, quickly saving and quitting before leaving the room and heading downstairs. There I walk to the kitchen, getting a cup of black coffee and taking a sip.

I scrunch up my nose, staring at the cold caffeine. I put the mug in the microwave for a bit, heating it up before I try taking another sip. There. That's better. Hot caffeine is better than cold caffeine, but cold caffeine is better than no caffeine. Yeah, that made sense. I walk into the living room, ready to just sit down and watch some TV. You know, relax. That is, I get ready too. Doesn't exactly happen.

I make it about halfway to the couch when I hear a voice.

"Hey Markimoo... Is your coffee good?" It's a soft voice, quiet and calm. It's also a male voice, his pitch higher, his tone happy and... Mischievous. He has a subtle Irish accent and I can practically hear the smile. However, none of this helps the surprise lessen. I look around quickly, searching for anyone who could have possibly spoken. But no one's there.

I shrug and walk over to the end table, putting my coffee down. However, before I can sit on the couch, the voice speaks again.

"Mark, it's not nice to ignore people." He says again, sounding kind of hurt. I look around more, but I find no one nor anything that can possibly be speaking. The voice chuckles. "Silly. You can't see me."

I frown. "Why not?" I ask. Great, now I'm talking to the voices in my head. Perfect. However the voice answers, without any regard that he heard my thoughts.

"Because I'm not with you." He says. My frown deepens, and it's very obvious that I'm very confused. He explains. "I'm dead."

Just those two words were enough for me to know... I'm really going crazy. I don't know how, but somehow I turned crazy. I can hear dead people? No... That's not right. But... Then again, there are those people who claim they can hear the dead. Maybe they're telling the truth and for some reason I can hear them to now? But why? And how?