Darkiplier's Misery

And oh God, I Wanted to be Your High

Ethan's eyes slowly started to clear and he flopped his head to the side. Dark just had his way with him and then left to grab something. He panted and shook but tried to get the pain out of his head. He knew it wasn't over yet either because Darks clothes were still laying in the room.

Ethan's eyes went wide when he spotted the phone laying halfway out of his jeans. He was terrified but if he had any chance to ever get out it was now. He dragged himself over to it gasping from the pain radiating down his legs and grabbed it. He had to hurry, Dark could be back at any moment.

He turned on the phone breathing a sigh of relief when there wasn't a pass code and immediately went to his contacts, hitting Marks name. There were a couple rings but it was answered fast - probably because it said Dark was calling. His hands shook violently and he had to focus on not dropping the phone.

"Dark?" Marks voice rang out, strong but a healthy amount of fear under it.
"Mark." Ethan whispered back. There were a couple beats of silence before Mark seemed to recognize his voice.
"Ethan, oh. Oh my God, Ethan!" Mark stuttered out voice shaking and Ethan felt as hot tears streamed down his face.

The door unlocked and Ethan jumped and threw the phone as it was opened. Dark watched the phone fly and growled, stomping large strides over to him. He grabbed him by his throat as Ethan tried to lean away and Dark dug his nails in. Ethan made eye contact in terror and shuddered at the rage in his eyes.

Dark bared his teeth and lifted Ethan by the neck as he reached for the phone, bringing it to his ear. "Mark." He rumbled. And Ethan cried and struggled to breathe, not hearing a response from the other side. The phone crushed in his hand, glass shattering, and he brought his attention back to Ethan.

When Darks eyes stopped on him they were cold and calm and it scared Ethan more than anything before. Whenever Dark was mad he was always erratic and breaking things and letting his rage out at anything around him, of course his favorite and main outlet being Ethan.

And for him to be calm.... this was not good.

Ethan was released and he sputtered and tried to get air back in his lungs but Dark raised his fist and everything went black.

When he woke up, the first thing that came back to him was the shouting. It took a long time for his brain to locate that voice as Marks and when he did he forced his eyes open. His head throbbed, vision going white as it ached. He struggled to sit up and look over to the commotion.

Mark was laying on his stomach on the floor, his head tilted towards Ethan, mouth open and eyes wide as he stared at him. Dark had his foot on Mark's back, digging him into the floor, allowing him to take Ethan in for a moment. Dark must've re-dressed while Ethan was passed out - back in his suit, hair slicked back to perfection again. Mark gasped, tears streaming from his eyes as he tried to make words come.

Ethan stared back, shaking. He hadn't looked in a mirror in forever but he knew he had to look like something out of a horror movie. He wasn't allowed food much so he was all sunken in and clothes were pointless now, he hasn't worn them since he was brought here. He had scarring everywhere from Dark and fresh whip marks from the day before. He was still dripping blood down his legs, adding to the dried blood all around his lower half. The large slash mark on his back was still bright red and was only healed on the outside. Dried cum was still in his hair. His neck had to be all kinds of purple because it was Dark's favorite place to hold him. And bruises, new and old, were any place you could think of.

Not to mention the self inflicted scars and scratches and bite marks. Even before he was taken he would take a razor to himself when things got to be too much, and once he was kidnapped all sharp objects had been taken from him. Which was especially hard when in such a traumatic situation with no release. He could press on the cuts Dark left or use his nails or bite himself but he was always in a state of pain and it didn't cause the same effect that a knife or blade did. Nonetheless there were scars all the same and he knew there was no mistaking the patterns of parallel lines.