Good -- A Danti Fanfiction (COMPLETED)

Chapter 1

Dark's POV

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

My fists clenched and unclenched as I mimicked the clock in a hushed tone.

"Fuck. You. Fuck. You. Fuck. You."

I didn't know why I kept the damn thing in the house -- maybe because it was the only thing that made noise. After all, nobody could go with complete silence.

Groaning, I stood up and walked down the hall. I peeked into the room on the left, making sure everything was ready. I smirked as I admired my work.

The room was themed black and fairly casual, spare the 6 foot mirror next to the bed. I tiptoed across the room, only to be greeted by my own cruel face.

I frowned, the mirror mimicking me.

"Well that's not very nice, now is it?" Talking to myself was only another way to pass the time. That, and going insane.

~~~TIME SKIP ~~~

I loved cars. They were just so convenient. I could travel from my house to anywhere in less than an hour. Especially if I was speeding.

As I cruised down the empty road, my thoughts started to fill. My fingers tapped the steering wheel faster as I thought.

AntiSepticeye.

He had cost a fortune. After Anti convinced his alter to commit suicide in 2020 (some innocent bastard named Sean, or Jack) he started roaming. After a few years, worse came to worse, and he was put on the blackmarket.

Nobody could judge the sellers; after all, Anti was one hell of a prize.

I had had to kill off quite a few other bidders to win the betting war, but it was all fair in my eyes. I had what I wanted, and they had what they deserved.

My eyes squinted as I saw the building come into view.

It used to be a corporate office for SkyZone, some bullshit trampoline place that went bankrupt a few years back. Now, it was a meeting point for anyone stupid enough to come.

I parked my car and got out, only to be met by the concrete.

I fell to one knee, clutching my head in agony.

It felt like fire was pouring from my eye and ears, or someone was smacking me in the face repeatedly with a hammer. Something was familiar about this place. I had been here before... No. Mark had been here before.

That was one of the shitty choices I had made; to stay near where my alter had lived. This caused splitting headaches. After all, it would hurt like hell if you tried to make a dead person remember something.

I had killed my alter shortly after he had reached 20,000,000 subscribers. It made it more amusing to see him rise to the top, only to come crashing down because of a voice inside his head.

Once the pain subsided to a dull throbbing, I stood and continued toward the door.

The glass doors had long since cracked and were now only metal frames surrounded by concrete. I stepped through, careful not to make a sound or step on any glass shards.

The dealers were not as smart. I could hear them upstairs, the sounds of their uncontrolled drinking filling the hallways. I smiled.

This was going to be much easier than expected.

Anti's POV

Convincing a person to kill themselves was child's play. Living with the consequences was not.

After I killed off my alter, I assumed that I was tough enough to survive on my own for as long as I wished. I hoped that one day, I might even snag my own house from someone. I would be living the dream. That is, the nightmare.

But as always, karma seemed to come back and punch me in the gut.

Karma was a bitch.

Ireland had been wonderful; plenty of drunk people to pester, people to kill, places to hide. I eventually got comfortable.

That was my mistake.

Stalking a couple one night, I was completely blind to danger.

I knew every demon in the country, and every demon in the country knew not to mess with me. So I thought nothing of my surroundings.

Low and behold, I ended up on the black market.

It was sickening.

Now all of the sudden, after being on the market for less than a week, there was a buyer in America. Of course.

It had to be America. Home of the sadists.

I had a plan, though. After I was given over, I would kill the buyer and go back to Ireland.

How, I had no idea. Plans were for the weak.

Dark's POV

Being a demon is fun.

Being a demon with immense power is even more fun.

I snuck up the stairs, only to be greeted by a poorly shaven man. He was clearly tipsy, and he held a gun in his hand. He attempted a sinister face as he raised the gun, too far gone to hold it steady.

I punched him square in the nose and gently picked up the gun as it fell to the floor. I took in my surroundings.

Four men. Only four men?

A sadistic giggle escaped my lips as I shook my head. I stood and looked at the remaining three men, enjoying the moment. One by one, they dropped like flies onto the dirty concrete floor.

I knew that my package had watched the whole thing, and I could hear Anti's heart rate quickening with every fatal thud. I smiled.

Anti was thrown haphazardly in a corner, wrists and feet in metal cuffs. His beautiful eyes were mismatched, one a bright green and the other a sky blue.

They had beaten me to the punch, though -- literally.

He had bruises marking every inch of his arms, probably other places too.

"The little fuckers beat me to it," I whispered to myself.

I edged toward him, watching his body tense up. I grinned as I knelt next to him, and whispered in his ear.

"Don't worry. Whatever they did, I'm gonna do it ten times over." I paused as I noticed his breath quicken. My smirk widened.

"You're gonna forget the meaning of pain, kitten."

A/N: I'm gonna try and make each chapter somewhere around 1,000-1,500 words long, updating about once a week. Yes, that means that I will have plenty of cliffhangers in store for my readers, but what the heck! I mean whats the worst thing that I could do...