Nothing, Nothing at all...

2

You wake, shooting straight up into a sitting position, breathing heavily. "Just a dream." You pant. "Just a dream."
Yeah, seriously, you didn't know that was a dream. Your conscious nags. You should of known. You NEVER wear heels, and, please, you know you wouldn't wear a dress that isn't past your knees. (Rhymes. Hehe. Sorry)
You should of, like, had a lucid dream and beat him up or do something cool like that. So lame. "Shut up, self." You mumble climbing out of bed. It's 9:00, on a Friday morning, but still, you stretch and yawn, tired. You woke up 2 and 1/2 hours ago with your alarm to go to work, but called in sick and went back to sleep. You grab your headphones, yawning again, and plug them into your phone as you head down stairs. (Basically your room, a closet, and a bathroom are the only thing upstairs, so everything else is downstairs. Obviously.)

You pour yourself some cereal and commence to eating while watching YouTube. Eventually, you finish eating and find a good stopping point. You put your phone in your pocket, your headphones around your neck and your dishes in the sink. You procrastinate washing them, telling yourself that you'll do them later, still trying to run away from the adulthood that engulfs you. Look, your only 24, and half of the time you still expect for them to be magically clean when you come back to them later. You walk upstairs to get changed. You've been in your pajamas since 6:00pm yesterday, so you figured, you should probably change.  You throw on a plain, black tank top, and put on a flannel over that. You put on some dark, non-hole filled jeans. Because why would you waste your money on something that already has holes in it?

You toss your pajamas on your bed. You stick your phone back into your pocket and, like usual, your headphones lay around your neck. It's late enough where you probably should of ate lunch about an hour ago, but didn't. Instead, you trod into your kitchen, and grab a tub of your favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Spoon in hand, you head back up stairs to sit on your bed. You get situated, and finally comfortable, starting another YouTube video when you hear a knock on the front door. "Ugh...." You complain, pausing the video. Your phone and headphones return to their usual position as you walk down the stairs, ice cream in hand. You turn right, and clutch the ice cream under your left arm, sticking the spoon in it so you can open the door.

"What is it?" You ask not really paying attention, eating another scoop of your delicious treat. What? You not trying to impress anyone. "What is it? It's nothing. Nothing at all." With those words you gasp, almost dropping the spoon out of your hand. Your eyes widen ask you realize who it is exactly is leaning against the door frame of your house. You slam the door in his face, half hoping he got out of the way in time, half to scared to care. You spin around, and almost run smack into him. He was standing in your path. You dodged around him to the best of your abilities and run up to your room. You dash inside and quickly shut the door behind you, only to find him sitting calmly on your bed. You put the ice cream down on your dresser nearby and rush to the door in attempts of escape.

You see a black mist surrounding it the knob and hear a click. It's locked. I know you can unlock it from the side your on but something about that mist says back off. You turn and face him, gulping. You reach down to get out your phone. "Don't do that... Come on, sweet pea. Stay and play..." He smiles. Next thing you know, your phone is in his hand, your headphone cable dangling above the ground. He looks at your phone, and his smile disintegrates. "@%4#, I can't do ANYTHING, with out interference." He complains. What? You wonder. The last thing I was doing was watching a-
"Markiplier video." He says, cutting off your thoughts.

Oh... You realize. That makes sense now... The brown eyes, the blue hair, the wire frame glasses. You look over the rest of his outfit. A Markiplier shirt with a dripping 'D' drawn on over the logo, in something that wasn't red paint, Black jeans and dark shoes. This is Darkiplier. Yes, it all makes sense. If he didn't like the fact that I was watching a Markiplier video, wait until he sees my camera roll... You think. Dark looks at you curiously and clicks through your phone. You mentally slap yourself. I forgot he can read minds... I'm screwed... You grab the ice cream tub and spoon, sitting down in the corner between the door and wall. (On the side away from the door knob and creepy mist stuff) you sit, eating, and waiting for your upmost doom.

You see, since YouTube is practically your life, you have way too many screenshots of YouTube videos, tweets, quotes, or fan art on your camera roll. Mostly of JackSepticEye, PewDiePie, and... Markiplier... "$%@%$#@%$@$!!" Dark grumbles in a half yell-shout, throwing your phone down on the bed. "Hey!" You complain. "Be careful. I just got that a week ago. It's practically brand new." "Yeah, yeah, whatever, sorry." He mumbles under his breath. "You know what?"
He says to himself. You look at him, tilting your head almost like a confused puppy. "@$%& it! I'll do it anyway."  He stands up from the bed and walks in your direction. You scramble up, to get out of his way. You get out of the way of the door and he opens it. The mist disappears into his hand as he opens the door and starts to walk down the stairs. You stare after him curiously, and quite confused. Did he forget about you?

He stopped half way down and looks at you. "Come on." He says, like it should of been honest for you to follow him. "What?" You say back. "Come on." "What? Why?" You asked, confused. You were not going to go anywhere with out reason. He rolls his eyes and comes back upstairs, grabbing your right wrist. Luckily, your right hand had the spoon in it and the tub of ice cream was tucked under your left arm. He pulls you down the stairs and out the door.  "Hey! Wait!" You protest. "I don't have any shoes on, man, I don't even have socks on!" You guys are about half way down your driveway, you struggling the whole time, trying to get out of your grasp. He turns around and glares at you, his eyes are bright, blood, red. "I. Don't. Care." He says, his face full of anger, inches from yours. Your eyes widen in fear, and you back away to the best of your ability. You continue walking, and you try to get away one last time. You have pushed him to the limit. He stares straight into your eyes. "Don't worry." He says with mock sympathy and caring. "It will be fine." He breaths out on you and the last thing you remember is his words echoing throughout your head. "You won't remember anything. You'll remember nothing, nothing at all..."

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There. I hoped you liked it. It's a little (a lot) longer than the first chapter thing. Not much else to say. Oh, sorry for breaking fourth wall so much. Hopefully it doesn't bother you. But it's kinda like a narrator, right? A narrator that talks directly to you. It's just my style. Also, in case you didn't notice, I don't write out curse words. Sorry, if this offends you or something but I just don't roll like that. You just can't have Dark without colorful language. (or Mark or Jack. Foreshadow. XD) Uh, anything else? Don't think so. I mean, with exams coming up it might be a week or two before I update again but I will definitely try to.
All in all, Buh-Bye!!