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Over the next few days, things remained the same, but on what you assumed was the third day, things began to change. Your parents called to let you know that they would be staying on vacation for the next little while, and they weren't sure when they were coming back.

Secondly, you were hearing less and less from Mark, which worried you. The first few says he had been banging and yelling, presumably begging Dark to let him go. Dark would go down to the basement after a while. Today, you decided to go down and listen at the door.

"You do realize that you're really starting to push my buttons," Dark growled.

"And you know what?" Mark replied. "I don't care. Dark, seriously, let (y/n) go. If you want to torture me, kill me even, then do it. I don't care. Just let her leave."

While Mark was speaking, you felt yourself stop breathing. He can't kill him! You thought.

"Listen, Mark." Dark spoke so low, you had to strain to hear. "I would have done so much more to you, if she hadn't agreed to stay. Otherwise, I would have treated you like the useless piece of garbage you are. I'm doing this for her sake, not yours!"

You were trying to decide whether to be angered or relieved, when the door flew open. Dark exited the room, and stared down at you before slowly closing the door.

"Get upstairs," he said.

You sat frozen in fear, and struggled to move. "Get upstairs!" Dark yelled. You scrambled up and hurried up the stairs.

Unsure of where to go, you froze in the kitchen. Dark climbed the stairs behind you. He grabbed you by the arm and spun you around to face him.

"How much of that did you hear?" Dark asked angrily. He still hadn't released his grip on your arm.

"I-I just--" you stuttered, then cleared your throat, trying to be brave. "Why does it matter?"

"It matters because--" Dark shouted. He took a breath and lowered his voice. "It matters because I need to know if you're loyal or not. If you keep listening to my conversations with Mark, you're disproving yourself. And I have no use for that." He let go of you. "Think about it."

With that, Dark steaightened his jacket and left the room. He ascended the other set of stairs that led to the bedrooms. You remained in the kitchen, still rooted to the spot. You couldn't become "disloyal" especially if that meant Mark would take the blame. Dark's warning from your first day still rang loudly in your ears. You couldn't take any more risks.

  
  
Later that afternoon, you were washing the dishes. Like every other day, you had barely been able eat, because Dark was watching you. Not in a protective way, either. It was more like he was admiring you like a trophy. You shuddered as you dried a plate.

Dark was not only using you against Mark, but he wanted you for himself too. Whether he actually liked your personality or was only attracted to you, you still weren't sure. The very thought of either made you feel sick to your stomach.

"(Y/n)," he called from the doorway to the kitchen.

You gasped and tried to turn, but dropped the plate in the process. It shattered on the ground. Dark just looked between you and the plate. You hurried to pick up the pieces. How long had he been standing there? Had he been watching you this whole time? One thing you knew, he had scared you, mainly because he had been so sneaky and quiet.

You gathered up the pieces of the plate. As you tossed them in the trash, you felt one of them slice the skin on your left hand. You grabbed your hand and hissed in pain. Blood trickled down your arm.

"(Y/n), let me see," Dark called.

"It's fine, really--" you protested.

"Let me see it," he repeated.

Reluctantly, you walked over to Dark. He took your hand in his and examined it. You looked at it as well. The gash on your hand was a lot bigger than you had thought. You winced, both at the size and the pain.

Dark looked at you, then said, "Come with me."

You followed, mainly because you didn't have a choice. Dark held your wrist as he led you to the bathroom. He motioned for you to sit on the edge of the bathtub, which you did. Dark turned back to you with a rag and a bottle of something in hand.

"This might sting a little," Dark warned as he knelt in front of you.

You made a face as he cleaned the blood off of you and cleaned the cut. It did sting, but Dark was surprisingly gentle. Before you knew it, he was wrapping a bandage around your hand.

"There," he said. Without another word, all he did was make eye contact with you, and left the room.

As you sit on the edge of the tub, you couldn't help but wonder what he was up to. First, he threatened Mark, then you, and now he was being nice?

What's going on?

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