A different kind of story || NatePat

Chapter one: origin

I woke up to the sound of dripping, as if a tap was leaking in my house and I'm cosy and snug in my bed, I mumble out a curse but cringe as a sharp pain penetrates my forehead, "ouch," I mumble as I slowly blink awake. It's as if an object was forced against my skull willingly, I force myself awake as I remember...Nate, he did this.

I was inside my house on a couch snuggled up with my cat Skip (Skipp?) as I watched mainstream tv, boring really but there wasn't much on anyway. Thunder and lightning rumble in the distance as I feel a chill, I stand up to turn on the heater and the tv goes out, "just my luck" I mutter, Stephanie was visiting family so it was basically me. Well, at least I had Skip.

I go outside to get to the fuse box, torch in hand to try and see what the problem was (I don't know about American houses but here we tend to have the fuse box outside.) it's late afternoon but the clouds covered the sky in such a way that I deemed it necessary to bring a torch.

An unfamiliar shadow passes behind me as I whip around to try and face it, to my shock and surprise, it's one of my close friends Nate or Natewantstobattle on YouTube. The more I look at him the more uneasy I feel: overly exaggerated black eyeliner covers his eyes in an almost menacing way, purple-blue tear like lines cascade down his face and, to top it all off a demonic grin that practically glowed with evil vibes.

I have deduced that this wasn't Nate, well not quite anyway, it was Natemare just as the name intel's, a nightmarish version of Nate, his demon half if you will. You see, a lot of YouTuber's have a dark side, fans create them and the more popular they get, the more power they have and if they want they'll overtake your body, they'll consume you and you'll need help to control them if they decide to go awol.

Some aren't as bad as you think, sometimes they just want to roam about for a bit, like Antisepticeye: he just needed to be free for a while and use some power, the glitches were all him but he "killing" idea was Jack's, they work together, it never used to be like that, I'm glad it is now.

Some go too far and we have to step in to save the corrupted, teach them the wrongs and rights and other stuff like that, they can't die so that's the only thing we can't do. As long as we're still alive, so are they.

As quick as the lightning in the sky currently, his hand moves to reveal a metal pipe that he then smashes over my head faster than you can say "Game Theory" and the world around me fades to black.

That brings me to my current predicament, it was dark when I woke up, strapped to a chair, how cliche. As my eyes begin to focus I can examine the room around me for any means of escape. I spend god knows how long looking at intricate detail in this room, nothing, nada, zilch, except for the door with a staircase below it which had a strange glow coming from the bottom of it.

'Wow,' I think sarcastically, 'I'm in a freaking basement, seriously? Like this is the best place? Thanks Natemare, I feel like fucking royalty. I know it's for the spooky kidnapper aesthetic and everything but come on. It's not even hygienic? I'm tied up in rope? Dude! What the hell??' My ranting thoughts are ceased immediately by a haunting voice that echoes through the door in the corner. "You know I can hear you thoughts right? It teases.

I freeze, 'really? Shit' "yup" the voice giggles, 'you stupid, stupid man' I think. Again, with the thinking, stop. "If you think you're so high and mighty why don't you come down here?" I ask and then face palm, because this is typical horror movie shit and I shouldn't be inviting a potential murderer down, he isn't exactly going to have tea with me, as much as my mind wants to differ.

"I don't think so darling, I know it." The voice replies as the door opens squeakily and there he is: Natemare standing before me creepy smile ever evident on his face, I'm shaking slightly as I anticipate what's going to happen, 'hopefully nothing bad' annnndddddd I'm thinking again aren't I? Can't blame me though, I am a theorist. "I wouldn't count on that sweetie," his sickly sweet voice whispers in my ear "we're just getting started."