Demons - a Markiplier, Darkiplier & Warfstache x Reader.

ALTERNATE ENDING.

This is a continuation from when the reader has been kidnapped. Please remember that this chapter has themes and violence that may be difficult to read. Proceed at your own risk.

ALSO: This chapter is not the legitimate ending to the story! This chapter is just an alternate chapter.

You slowly come to, opening your eyes. The right side of your head is pounding in pain. You groan, coughing and causing yourself more pain. Your back is slumped against a rough tree, the bark digging into your spine. Grass is under you, and you hear faint talking.

It takes a while, but your senses come back. Your vision is still blurry as you hear Wilford grunting and another voice crying out in pain. Oh god, it's Mark! You struggle to bring your head upright as you focus on Wilford, through bleary eyes, who is holding Mark by the collar. His fist is repeatedly rearing back and slamming itself into Mark's face, riddling Mark with bruises, torn skin, scrapes and blood.

Anger flares up inside you as you slowly stand, swaying with dizziness and nausea. You lean against the tree for support, then reach a hand up to where the pain radiates from your head, and feel dried blood matted in your hair.

You grunt as you look at the scene in front of you. Glitch's bloodied body is off to the left, just visible in the darkness of the trees. Light's body is nowhere to be seen. Dark is slumped against a tree, opposite of you, his head hanging. You can't see Google anywhere, although you could swear that you saw two pair of red, glowing eyes just a second ago in the darkness just beyond the treeline.

Wilford pauses his beating, as if sensing something, and looks across to you. His smile widens, as big as a shark's, as he drops Mark with a sickening thump. He straightens up, rolls his shoulders, and begins stalking towards you.

Against your will, your body starts trembling with your heart thumping. You straighten yourself up as Wilford reaches you, his hand resting on your shoulder as he breathes in raggedly. He leans in close to your ear, his body pressed up against the side of yours, and murmurs.

"Glad to see you're with us, (y/n). Come and join the party. You get to cut the cake."

Wilford grabs you by the collar and wrenches you onto your knees, your hands slamming to the ground. You choke up blood, dry heaving from the sudden movement. Wilford sighs in dissatisfaction and drags you, roughly, along the grass to where Mark is, grass burning your knees and arms.

He drops you so you're face-to-face with Mark. Mark moves his bloodied face, just slightly, to look at you. His brown eyes speak volumes of which he can't say. Blanching at the sight, you reach out and touch his cheek tentatively, smiling softly. It'll be okay, you think, unable to say the words.

Your tender moment is broken by Wilford as he rips you up, hands rough against the skin of your neck.

"Alright, lovebirds," he spits out bitterly, standing to your side, looking down on Mark. His lips etch into a smile as he releases you.

Your eyes are locked to Mark, the extent of his injuries. Wilford's hand grips your chin, turning your head to look to his dull red eyes. "Now, (y/n).. I know how uncooperative you are. You know you can do this easily, hmm? All you have to do is kill the poor bastard. Then the job is done."

You avert your eyes, too focused on Mark to care. You hear his annoyed intake of breath, so before he snaps, you look up back to him, your mouth pressed into a thin and angry line.

"I'm done being your bitch, Wilford," you say firmly. Wilford scowls, grip on your chin tightening.

"You will do as I say," Wilford snarls, moving closer to you.