Domestic ❧ Skephalo AU

Chapter 1.) A Letter to the Monster in My Room

Skeppy couldn't see them, but he could certainly feel a pair of eyes on him whenever he entered his bedroom. It was an unsettling sensation that left him checking the vents or closet for an intruder, but he always turned up nothing but dust and disappointment. That wasn't to say he was hoping to find someone camping out in his bedroom, but he was certain he wasn't going crazy and the burning sensation on his skin wasn't a figment of his imagination. There were a few nights where he considered chatting his anxieties away with one of his friends, and other nights where his brain told him he'd only be bothering others with his paranoid thoughts.

This went on for nearly two years, so when Skeppy had called his friend Vurb one dull afternoon to vent some of his paranoid thoughts, the other YouTuber jokingly remarked about trying to befriend the "demon" that watched over him. Half of Skeppy's conscience told him there was no point trying to get serious with Vurb, but the other half was willing to take a meme-y approach as Vurb had suggested.

"I can't believe I'm actually considering this," Skeppy groaned into the palm of his free hand, the other keeping his phone close to his ear while he speed-walked down the street.

"Think of it this way, no demon is going to want to hurt you if the mood ain't right. Catch the creeper off guard," Vurb laughed into his ear. The sound of crunching was caught on the opposite end of the line, alluding to the other YouTuber's choice of snack.

"Demons don't exist, Vurb. I'm just— no, I'm not paranoid. I'm just being silly." The gray skies lacked a face, and yet Skeppy could practically feel the clouds looking down at him in disbelief.

"Uh-huh. Look, I'm going to give you some advice I got from Reddit. 'If you hear strange noises at night, make weirder noises to establish dominance,'" Vurb encouraged and shoved another handful of chips into his mouth.

"I'm not going to mimic a goat drowning whenever I feel weird in my own room," Skeppy deadpanned with furrowed brows.

"No, dude, I meant you need to weird out the strange force that's making you fidgety."

"Why do you sound like one of those pothead hippies you find along the side of the road?"

In the end, Vurb had convinced Skeppy to use Gen Z tactics to help with his apprehensive thoughts. He made it home unscathed and made a beeline for his room. He didn't feel as if he was being stared at, but even if the sensation was there he'd ignore it and stalk over to his nightstand.

Make weirder noises to establish dominance, huh?

Skeppy wasn't going to do that. However, he figured he could give Vurb's ridiculous logic a try and "ruin" the mood with something in the room. Would oddly sensual music be able to chase away the invisible eyes that followed him late at night? Maybe writing a letter as a joke would be something to laugh at when he woke up.

He plugged his phone in and set the device onto the cool mahogany wood. With his phone charging, he straightened his posture and pinched the bridge of his nose. Vurb was obviously trolling him, but Skeppy was desperate, willing to humiliate himself in hopes the silliness of the situation would help him ignore the shivers that ran up his back.

With several hours to spare before he needed to get to bed early, Skeppy snatched a crumpled-up piece of paper and exited the room, the door softly clicking behind him, but he walked back in only three seconds later to retrieve a fresh pair of pajamas.

Within the few hours of daylight he was able to burn, Skeppy had cooked himself dinner (and by cook we mean he made himself a bowl of Captain Crunch), showered so he no longer smelled of the disgusting outside world, and scribbled down a letter that took him way too long to finish. The note was comedically short, but he didn't plan ahead as he should have.