His Darker Side| A Darkiplier Creepypasta

Chapter 11: Fate

    “LEAVE THEM ALONE, YOU BASTARD!”  You yelled at the top of your lungs. It was unfair, everything was unfair, what he was doing to them, and he knew it!

    He laughed darkly, smiling his huge, menacing grin. “You know what’s going to happen, Y/N. Why do you keep fighting it?”

    You turned back to the scene that continued playing before your eyes; Jack was back down in the living room, checking Mark’s temperature while on the phone with someone. Turning back to Darkiplier, you spit, “You better stop this right now!”

    “No, I don’t think I will,” he replied smoothly, drifting away from your sight. You tried desperately to look for him, but he had disappeared completely. Sighing in defeat, you turned back to the memory.

    Jack was pacing around in the living room, talking fervently to the person on the other line. “No! No, I’m telling you, he’s not waking up!” A pause. “Yes, of course I’ve thought of that!” Another long pause, this time where Jack stopped pacing the room. His voice got deeper, almost more mean. “Don’t you dare EVER suggest that to me again, Michelle, got it?!”

    You shivered, almost scared of this man’s rage for companion. Jack started pacing around again, now almost yelling into the phone. Outside, birds chirped and bicycle bells rung and everyone seemed to be completely oblivious to the scene playing out just a few stories above their heads. A cough sounded below you, and you jumped, realizing a moment later that it was Mark.

    Jack saw it, too, because he quickly interrupted the person on the other end with “Listen I gotta go, okay? Call you back later!” and hung up. He dashed over to the couch, kneeling down to be at eye level with Mark. “Mark? It’s me,” he said softly, brushing Mark’s hair out of his eyes as he always did.

    Mark coughed again, and his eyes slowly fluttered open. You gasped, shocked by what you saw. His eyes, normally a chocolatey brown, were now a piercing red. When he coughed, a black-like phlegm protruded from his mouth.

    Jack swallowed hard, stroking Mark’s cheek with his fingers. “Mark?” He said softly, leaning closer. “What happened to you?”

Mark stared at him with a blank expression, his eyes glassy. You swallowed too, scared of not what was to happen but when. You wanted to watch these two be together some more, just being happy and enjoying each other’s presence. Watching this was just pure torture.

    “Precisely, Y/N,” Dark’s voice cooed, and you cursed him aloud, twisting your head to try to find that devil.

    Now he was in your thoughts?! Why!?

    Mark coughed again, then responded. “Who. . . who. .are you?”

    Jack inhaled audibly, his voice on the verge of shaking. “Mark, it’s me, Sean. Please. . . please, tell me, did he do this to you?”

    Mark continued to look confused, his eyes scrunched up as he tried to comprehend what was being asked of him. “Who’s he? Who are you?!” He tried to sit up, but Jack moved him back down gently.

    “Take it easy there, Mark. I guess this time he’s managed to get into your brain. But it’s no problem. We’ll figure this out, we always have. . .” Jack’s voice faded, and finally he choked on his words, not being able to continue.

    Mark watched him through narrowed eyes, assessing this strange man next to him. “What’s your name? Sean? . . . I don’t know anybody named ‘Sean’”

    Jack stood up suddenly, pressing a button on his cell phone. Putting it to his ear, he said through a shaky voice, “Michelle, I need you to come over here. You can bring Krism if you want to, but he won’t respond to me. I need help.”

    An hour passed before there was a knock on the front door. Jack rushed over to it, throwing it open. A tall woman with long brown hair with a purple streak in it; a shorter woman stood beside her, clutching her hand tightly, with shoulder-length brown hair and one red eye, a genetic trait. “Hello, Jack.” The tall one spoke up, then she peered behind Jack’s shoulder to Mark, his eyes now closed again on the couch. “Oh God. . .”

    Krism let out an “eep!”, and Michelle, or Minx, walked slowly into their small apartment kitchen, stopping before she walked right into the living room. Jack slammed the door, and Krism screamed, clinging onto Minx tighter. “Hey!” Minx said, wirlling around to glare at Jack.

    But her argument fell when she saw his face.

    He was crying.