Trigger warning: violence and language
"G'night, Mark!" I call down as I ascend the stairs.
Mark is playing a shooter game and I hear a half-assed "night" as I make my way to my room. That man really loves his games, I think. Enough to make a profession out of it, I suppose.
As Mark and I had also forgotten to get pajamas, I put the same clothes of Mark's on to go to bed as I did last night. I realize that this is only my second night I'll be spending here and am astonished that it feels as though it has been much longer. I settle into bed, once again reveling in how comfortable it is.
• • •
My room looks... feels... too dark when I open my eyes. I can see nothing but the pitch black fog that surrounds and consumes me. I attempt to turn onto my side from my current belly-down position, but my whole body feels way too heavy. I feel like gravity is pulling me too hard.
I begin to struggle to try and turn over, but realize that I can feel something... someone holding me down. This someone feels like all hands and no body.
"Shhh," I hear. The sound is so close to my ear that I can feel the moisture of my assailant's breath. "Don't bother trying to s q u i r m your way away from me." It's a man's voice, deep and grating. It takes me a few seconds longer than it should to piece together who is holding me down.
He turns me over onto my back. I feel his hands gripping my shoulders to hold me down. His breath caresses my face the way a dog's teeth caress a rabbit the instant before it bites down. I know that his face is inches from mine, yet I still can't see him.
I make no noise for fear that he will harm me. But I keep my eyes open as wide as I can make them, trying to force them to adjust to the absence of light. Though I know they won't adjust until he wants them to.
He leans in close to my ear and whispers seductively, "I want to taste your f l e s h. I want to feel your bones c r a c k i n g under my weight." He licks my ear before biting it hard enough to draw blood. I wince and hold back a scream.
Suddenly he comes into view in black and white with the red surrounding him and I can see the passionate fire in his black eyes. He puts his hand around my throat, squeezing just enough to be threatening, yet not hard enough to cut off my air or circulation. "I want to hear you s c r e a m like you did before."
He drags a sharp nail across my cheek slowly. I feel a warm liquid drip from it and realize I'm bleeding. I bite down on my own lip to keep from giving him what he wants; I will not scream for him.
In an instant, he throws me off the bed and into the wall. He's back on me before I can even fall to the ground, holding me up on my feet against the wall. "What do you want from me?" I ask in fear. I see spots in my peripherals. When I look at him, it's like he's slightly out of focus. It's disorienting.
"I TOLD YOU WHAT I WANT! DON'T YOU FUCKING LISTEN?!" He screams in my face. He is all I can see, all I can hear. I notice that he smells like a mixture of Mark's soaps and formaldehyde.
"Yes yes, I'm sorry. Just please don't hurt me anymore," I beg.
"Well, (y/n), you're going to have to be a very good girl and do as I tell you. If you do that for me, then maybe I won't hurt you... badly," he responds.
"Okay... Uh..." I stutter.
"Call me Dark," he says, suddenly formal. He takes a step back from me and reaches out a hand to shake. I grab it timidly. He squeezes a little too tightly and holds my hand a second too long.
YOU ARE READING
Markiplier X Reader
Fanfiction(Y/N) has depression and trouble with cutting. About a year and a half ago, she was kicked out of her parents' house for smoking marijuana, though it was only once, and has been left on the street ever since. One day, (Y/N) enters a coffee shop to g...
