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

White Room Torture Bonding

Dark takes us to a small white room with a simple metal table and two chairs on either side. There's a small microphone stuck to the underside of the table. He motions for me to move forward and sit. I hesitantly obey, wondering where we are. As I open my mouth to question where I am, he simply puts a finger to his lips and motions to a door on the far side of the room that I hadn't noticed. Almost immediately, a man and a woman appear in the doorway. The woman doesn't question my age, hardly looking at me.

She's in some kind of medical uniform and the man is in a simple jumpsuit. Only after the woman hands me the clipboard in her hands and exited the room, leaving the man with me, do I realize that he's a patient in some kind of underground asylum.

Linus Morris:

Age: 38;  Sex: M;  Accusation: Triple homicide

Assignment: Provoke testimonial confession admitting to homicide

Below the information is space for notes and observances. The man – Linus Morris – sits in the chair across from me and waits nervously. What the hell is all this? 

Dark crouches beside me. As I go to turn to him, he gently pushes my head back so that I'm looking at the paper.

"He cannot see nor hear me. I can still hear your thoughts, so you won't look insane. Don't worry. Now," he begins as I immediately start to worry, "your job is simply what it says on the paper. You have to get him to confess."

How the hell am I supposed to do that? I question incredulously.

"Like this."

The demon stands up and puts his hands on my shoulders. I try not to flinch as I feel a cold rush pass into my chest, making its way to my head. My vision blurs, and I blink a few times to clear it...

It's much clearer than it was before.

Everything around me seems defined. I glance up at Linus Morris for a hundredth of a second, but gather plenty of data. I notice his nervous glances toward me and the clipboard, his arm movement showing that he's fiddling with his hands, his hard swallows, the light perspiration forming on his forehead.

What'd you do? I feel like Sherlock Holmes, I think to Dark.

"You want to feel powerful, don't you?" I give an imperceptible nod. "This is power. Perception, observance, knowledge. And this is merely a taste of what I see."

My mind rushes with possibilities, but I attempt to focus on the task at hand. I look up at Linus Morris, giving him my full attention. He seems shocked by my sudden interest. I put on a small smile, soft and discreet yet there.

"Mr. Morris?" I ask politely, raising the pitch of my voice slightly to seem reliable and innocent. Though seemingly surprised by my youth, he gives an anxious nod. I let my smile grow a hair.

"Why are you here?" is my next question. I avoid saying "Why do you think you're here?" because of the condescending tone constantly accompanying that statement – like a principal looks down at a small child escorted into their office for a misdemeanor.

"I didn't do anything!" he bursts. "I swear! It wasn't me!"

I hold up my hands to stop him. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm simply asking why you're here in front of me."

"Doesn't it say on the clipboard?" he asks, skeptically. I wave my hand dismissively.

"All I looked over was your information – name, age, et cetera. All I want to know right now, is why you're here," I reply.