Darkiplier's Misery

But I Can't Sleep

Ethan screamed and screamed and screamed as he was pulled from the bathtub. His razor blade fell from his shaking grip. Blood had already coated his lower half from carving up his thigh but his attempt had been stopped before it had started. Dark's grip was harsh and unrelenting, nails drawing blood from his arms. He shifted his grip to his throat, dragging him to his bedroom and throwing him to the floor. The door was locked before he even had time to process his change of scenery. He scrambled up as much as he could, trying to look for an escape hatch but too out of it. Everything blurred as he searched uselessly.

Dark stayed still for a moment watching the quivering pathetic mess. He slowly stomped towards him, hand wrapped up in his hair as he pulled him up painfully and wrapped his other around to his throat again.

"You'll pay for this." Dark snarled before he backhanded him across the face, hard enough for him to lose his already sobbing breath. Dark flipped him around and rammed Ethan's head into the wall twice, hard enough for things to go black and fuzzy.

Dark gripped his wrists, twisting painfully but not enough to snap, and pulled them behind him locked in his hand like a vice. Other hand still firmly restricting any oxygen.

Dark's eyes were cold as he stared maniacally into his eyes, searching for something Ethan couldn't give to him. Dark gave up and pushed him back to the ground, his head going blank in response but unfortunately still in tact.

"GOD YOUVE RUINED EVERYTHING!!!! EVERYTHING!" Dark squeezed tighter if possible and his aura flashed dangerously. He was screwed. He was so close to getting out and he'd failed.

As Ethan began to lose consciousness, a reprieve Dark would never grant him, he loosened his grip. He gasped and gagged, flipping around, his chest heaving. If he lived to tomorrow he knew his neck would be an unforgiving shade of black for at least a month. But Dark would never allow the torture to stop, death would be heaven compared to this. And he was certainly in hell.

He grasped at his throat, tearing at it, his body trying to get more air even though he himself just wanted to be free of it.

Dark gripped his wounded thigh, and slashed it with his claws, drawing more blood that dripped to the carpet, something he would be punished for later when it inevitably stained. He stood and kicked him in his side and Ethan laid there sobbing. Fight had long since left him.

Dark removed his dress pants elegantly, commando beneath them. He kept watching until the twitching stopped and the abused man went still. He shoved him onto his knees, making them dig sharply into the floor, but the pain paled compared to anything else.

Nails dug into his hips as the demon lined himself up and shoved. Insides tearing more than the night before had already done. If Ethan was good he often was given at least a finger. Hot blood flooded inside... the way his shredded skin flipped back and forth as he thrusted could never be scrubbed from his mind.

Dark shoved his face to the ground with one hand as Ethan hiccupped and gasped, trying not to choke on his own saliva while Dark continued to thrust, unrelenting. He unsheathed himself from the shaking boy and brandished a pocket knife from his tossed away pants. He flipped it open. Blade glinting in the light shining from the window.

Ethan watched as he slowly stalked towards him. He threw his head back and sobbed, he would never be able to get another chance at that. He yelled and threw his legs up, slamming his fists against the floor and shaking his head back and forth. He clawed at his scalp, everything was over.

The numbness slowly started to seep in his bones and he lay there limply, eyes shutting before he opened them and started listlessly into Darks eyes. Dark smirked and threw his head back laughing, he loosened his tie and twirled the knife In his hand.

He kneeled between Ethan's legs, dragging the knife across his throat and down his chest, pointing at the part his ribcage separated. "Dark i-" Ethan snapped his mouth shut. What could he say? What did he want to say? He'd already tried antagonizing him so he'd kill him. He had ended up left in the cellar with absolutely nothing but bare walls and his thoughts, shivering and concussed.

When Ethan began slamming his skull into the wall behind him as a way to kill himself he'd ended up with a massive head trauma and a gun up his ass courtesy of Wilford.
He'd tried obeying and begging and pleading and doing ungodly numbers of humiliating things and they never solved anything - everything was taken advantage of.

He bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut. He wondered what his friends thought of him suddenly disappearing. No phone, no one at his house. He hoped Spencer was being taken care of. He didn't know if the cops were called or If they decided not to so they didn't damage anyone's YouTube career. But most of the time he just thought of what he would do to get out.

Dark slashed at his back, white and yellow fat showing through the cut for a concerning amount of time before filling with blood and gushing down. It wasn't anything that would get close to killing him but he prayed it would anyways.

"You want pain so bad you know I'm always happy to deliver." Dark rumbled. The knife trailed lower, pushing in at his opening, "I can fuck this out of you." He stated, plunging in and Ethan screamed, the house shaking, saliva pooled from his mouth and he choked. Vision flashing black and white. It seared red hot and his head went to that shaded place.

Everything slipped away behind a veil and he stopped functioning. Sometimes dissociating was a reprieve. Pained sounds left his throat without any thought. Dark pulled it back out, dripping with blood and flesh and used it to stripe his back into ribbons. After, he was flipped back onto it and Dark stared searching into his unseeing eyes. Ethan looked through him, body convulsing from pain.

Dark growled low in his throat. "If you EVER try that again. And I will catch you in time.... I will shove you in a crate, drive you to Mark's house and show him and your 'fans' just what I can make you do and then force you to do the same to him." He leaned his head down to his sternum and looked back up with a chilling grin. "And then I will kill him on live for you and everyone to see."

He lowered himself to Ethan's ear, pressing the words into his brain, "No one would even care. The last thing Mark would think is how it was your fault. You're nothing." He snarled. "A mistake everyone regrets. You've ruined everything..... What a waste." He whispered, kicking him again and standing. He redressed and pocketed the knife, leaving out the door.

The sounds of it being chained from the outside didn't even register.
Ethan couldn't do anything but choke on his spit. Everything was over.

*next chapter on Friday*