Markiplier and JackSepticEye Imagines

Priority (Septiplier)

This imagine is vaguely inspired by katzombiegirl's book Let's Play A Game. If you haven't read it, you should. Its kinda like Sword Art Online but with YouTubers. I hope you enjoy!

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(Word Count: 1506)

Jack hacked at the small beast in front of him, a tiny ping of guilt going off in the back of his head as it exploded into pixelated shards of white. He forced himself to remember that they weren't truly alive as he watched the shards float away and dissolve, proving his point that they never really existed. He sighed sadly as a small 2-D box appeared in front of him, telling him how much experience and gold he got from the miniscule kill. He closed out of it quickly, shealthing his sword and pulling his long black coat tighter around his body.

He continued to strut down the icy path, the snow covered trees rustling in the harsh wind that swept over the entirety of floor 56. He had his hands buried in the warm recesses of his coat pockets, the tall black collar covering his neck. He could barely feel the tips of his ears as the brutal wind whipped against him mercilessly, the darkness of the night making it worse. He knew that it was stupid of him to have gone off on his own, but he couldn't stand staying at that hotel. The people at the bar kept him awake, laughing and enjoying themselves as they got drunk off of video game alcohol. It disgusted him; how could people enjoy themselves like that when they could be trying to beat the game?! Didn't they want to get back to the real world?

Jack scowled to himself, the wind attempting to open his coat as he walked against it. He wasn't doing anything good for himself warmth wise, but the cold was only in the game. It wouldn't harm him in the real world. He continued to walk, the sounds of his feet crunching against the steadily falling snow and the wind whistling past him being the only sounds to be heard in the empty forest. It seemed that not even the random creatures or idiotic NPCs dared to go out in that weather; not a single lifeform attempted to have a go at him, other than that stupid boar from before.

He walked until he reached a fork in the path. By the time he reached it, he could barely feel the tips of his fingers, his teeth chattering against themselves. Who cared if it wouldn't effect his real body? He needed to find somewhere warm. He peered at the old, snow covered sign in between the two paths. One had a long word on it, only barely visible enough to tell that it was made up of letters. He couldn't tell you what the letters spelled out, but by the knife sticking out of the sign, he knew it was bad. The other sign had a small carving of a house on it. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't elegant; it was just a box with a triangle on top, a tall rectangle in the middle. It was probably some NPC, one that would probably have no problem letting Jack in.

He trudged down the left path, walking as quickly as his numb toes would allow him. He walked for nearly a half hour before he saw a small stack of smoke peaking above the trees ahead of him. He began to jog, his lungs burning as he frantically sucked in the cold air. His toes regained some of their feeling as he entered a clearing, a small cottage resting in the middle. He hesitated before approaching the door, gripping the handle of his pistol as he walked up the porch steps. He knocked on the door three times, his hand hitting the old wood forcefully. He could hear stirring within the cottage, and after a few moments, the door opened just an inch.

"Can I h-help you?" a deep male voice spoke softly. He seemed nervous in every sense, probably terrified that Jack was going to shoot him. He shook his head and pulled his hand off of the handle of his gun. This man would be no threat.

"It's c-cold as h-hell out here," Jack stated, his teeth chattering. "Can I-I please c-come in?" The man didn't respond for a few moments.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked, his words clear and expectant. Jack was taken aback by his question.