I'm Here to Help You (Darkiplier x Reader)

I'm Sorry

I head home soon after Paska and Masson wake up. Though I know that Dark will be much more active in person here, I do feel better when I enter my own house. When I close the door behind me, Dark appears, smiling. Fighting down rude (but honest) thoughts toward him, I walk past him and head up to my room.

I drop my bag on the ground and let myself fall face-first onto my bed. Though I'm exhausted and want to sleep, I refuse for fear of more nightmares. A cold presence at the foot of my bed informs me that a certain suited demon is standing there watching me, as usual.

"Why are you doing this to me?" My muffled groan seeps to his ears.

"I told you: I'm helping you rid yourself of your conscience and embrace your insanity," he replies as if he's just a tutor or mentor. I groan again.

"I don't want your help." I turn so that my sound isn't consumed by the mattress. "Haven't I made that clear?"

"Your words say one thing, your mind says another," he simpers back. I can hear him smiling at me, mocking my denial.

"Okay then," I say, swiveling so I'm propped up on my stomach with my elbows and facing him. "What do you get out of this? I know that you'd never help me if it didn't benefit you."

"Much more than you understand."

"Of course!" I exclaim. "Yet another cryptic answer. Thanks. You're a real help. And–" I say, holding up a finger as I see his eyes go black and reality around him shift with annoyance, "before you say something like, 'I don't think you realize who you're talking to,' I already know who I'm talking to. My retort was intentional. You know why? Because I don't care who you are– at least, I don't anymore."

His rage increases, and I can see it in the way that the world flickers around his head and torso. Dark's eyes are pure black now, and he glares at me. Like he's done before, his stare makes me feel sick and blurs my vision.

"You've done this trick before. Can't you think of anything new?" My question is only half-serious. It's not like I want him to hurt me, but if I'm gonna be tortured I at least want to be tortured with innovation.

Almost immediately after I speak up, I black out and hear, "I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve."

I open my eyes, already prepared for pain. Looking around, I wonder if I'm going to kill someone or have serious pain inflicted.

I seem to be in a forest, but I can hardly see in color. All of the trees have dulled bark and the leaves are all darkened. After about ten feet, the world becomes shrouded in darkness. There's a knife in my hand. Shrugging, I begin to walk forward.

What've you got for me this time, demon? I whisper to myself.

In the distance, I see a figure. Spidey senses tingling, I somehow make the decision that it might be a bad idea to go near it. Just as I spin on my heel to leave, my body does a 360° instead of a 180°. Involuntarily, my legs propel me toward the figure. As I move forward, I realize that it's [F/N/1]. They turn to me and smile.

You know what you have to do.

"Hey, [Y/N], what's up?" Though the weapon weighs heavily in my hand, I manage to return the smile.

"Nothing much. What're you doing here?" Please don't notice the knife.

"Well, I–" suddenly, their attention is pulled to my right hand. "...What's that?"

[F/N/1] notices. My stomach drops and I try to keep my hand at my side calmly. Of course, my arm instead raises nonchalantly. Then, I regain control of my limbs completely.

Do it.

I sigh, replying "I'm... I'm sorry, I guess."

"Sorry? W-Why?"

Do it.

"Because I know what happens next," I say, preparing myself.

By "preparing myself", I mean shutting down all emotion. If what I think is going to happen does happen, I can't have any empathy. Just as I've finished closing myself off, I move forward.

[F/N/1] steps back, but I quickly close the distance between us. I toss the knife to my opposite hand, stretching out my right hand to clutch their throat tightly. With much more strength than I know I have, I lift them off of the ground. Inside, I feel like weeping. On the outside, I have nothing but a stony expression.

Do it. Do it. DO IT.

Feeling my throat tighten, I say my final words to [F/N/1]: "I'm really sorry."

My arm travels forward and the blade plunges into [F/N/1]'s stomach. Since I'm holding them above me, the blood that gushes from the wound streams down my bare arm, and a cough from them splatters a bit more on my face. I cringe momentarily, then raise my facade again.

"W-Why?" is their final word.

I remove the blade . My arm goes limp, and I finally let my emotions go now that I'm alone... Cripplingly alone. I expect silent salt waterfalls down my cheeks, tinged pink from the combination of it and [F/N/1]'s own internal fluid. They don't come. Losing the strange strength I had, their body drops to the ground. I close their eyes, then move away.

I stab the knife into the ground and sit at the base of a tree in between its exposed roots. Curling into a infantile ball, I let my head drop onto my arms. The blood smears a little, but there's not much that I can do about that. I don't shake with sobs, I don't hiccup and breathe jaggedly, I don't sniffle or cough.

All I do is sit.

I can't bear to look at [F/N/1]'s unmoving body, keeping my head down. I refuse to acknowledge what happened.

A cool presence forms beside me. Cool, but not cold. He sits against the side of the tree next to me. I can feel him staring at me. Immediately, all the sadness I had felt turns to rage. Hearing him inhale to speak, I cut him off.

"Don't. Say. Anything. I don't want to hear it."

He remains quiet. I turn to him.

"What the fuck was that?" I demand to know. "Yeah sure, you're 'helping' me, but this was too far. You can't just start taking baby steps with me and then chuck me into the deep end."

I'm breathing heavily now. Dark remains silent, still looking at me. I glare at him, frustrated that he still doesn't understand. He probably can't even comprehend my thoughts – I sure as hell don't understand all of them.

"What now, Dark? What have you gathered about my homicidal mentality, this time?"

The demon hesitates, an unusual thing for him to do. "You're not crying," he reluctantly states matter-of-factly. It's odd for him not to appear smug as usual, but he probably notices that now's not the time to mess with me.

"Because I am a sociopath, Dark," I admit. "I just didn't want to give you reason to mess with me even more. I'm borderline sociopath." Dark doesn't say anything, but continues to stare at me.

"What?" I finally question.

"You're different."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand to know, anger diminishing.

He shakes his head, instead saying, "I have a short temper, and I was angry. You're right, this was out of line. I'm... sorry... If any average person – even a sociopath – had experienced this, they would've broken immediately. But you..." He trails off. After a long pause, he speaks up again.

"Why are you different?"

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "I'm Here to Help You" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments and votes are super appreciated. Thanks for reading! ~Blue