MarkiSPYer

Chapter Four: YASS

Mark lifted his eyelids slightly, letting a small amount of light in. His vision was hazy, but he could definitely feel that there were people looking over him even though he hasn't seen them fully.

He felt himself lying on a soft leather couch, he could feel his skin sticking to the leather upholstery. He groaned, reaching for his head that suddenly ached.

"Mark?" A familiar voice asked softly, coming from his left, it was Tyler's, "Buddy?"

He rolled his head to the left, still having just a fraction of his eyes open. Through his fuzzy vision, he could see the outline of a curly haired man hovering over him.

"He's awake," He saw Tyler looking over his shoulder, calling someone who wasn't within Mark's field of view.

"Ch-Chica... where's Chica?" Mark mumbled, finally fluttering his eyes open but then wincing at the bright light that came from the ceiling.

Mark looked around, realizing that he was inside an unfamiliar room. It was a large room with white ceiling and dark grey painted walls, filled with framed pictures of men in formal attire and awards.

He sat up, still looking at the surroundings, noticing an office table made of mahogany in front of him complete with a large, extra comfy office chair.

"She's fine, man. She's over there eating," Tyler assured, pointing Mark to his dog who was on the opposite side of the room, enjoying a meal made for her.

"Wh-where am I?" He looked around, "And what the hell just happened?"

"You passed out after being shot in the butt with a tranquilizer." His friend replied.

"What is this place?" He got to his feet still finding his balance, letting Tyler assist him.

"My office" A man replied.

Mark turned around and saw a man standing in front of a large glass window overlooking the other skyscrapers of Los Angeles. He had his hands behind his back and standing confidently wearing his grey suit and tie, his pale blonde hair fixed into a clean cut hairstyle.

The man had a very much distinct voice, a voice that almost anyone could immediately guess who. Mark himself recognized him without any doubts.

"Felix?" Mark cleared his throat, "Is that you?"

The man turned around, it was Felix Kjellberg indeed, sporting his thick brown beard.

"Markiplier," He greeted him with a smile, like he would always greet his friends.

"Pewdiepie," Mark replied, "What's going on?"

Felix's smile disappeared, replaced with a look of seriousness and concern, "I'm sorry for the sudden turn of events," He walked to the desk, "Please, have a seat." He gestured to the couch.

Mark sat back down on the couch he had just woken up from.

"Would you like some vodka martini?" Felix asked, "Shaken, not stirred?"

"No thanks," Mark shook his head, "The last time I had liquor I was rushed to the ER. I think I'll just have some water."

"Very well," His friend sat down on his large chair, sinking a little bit after the seat had deflated to compromise his weight. Felix pressed a button on his desk that had a built in radio, "Would you mind getting our guest some water?"

"Right away, sir," A woman replied.

"What's the current status, Scheid?" Felix briefly turned away from Mark, focusing on Tyler who was petting Chica.

"The whereabouts of the ruby is still unknown, K."

"Sorry to interrupt, but you still haven't answered my question," Mark was restless in his seat, "What the hell is going on here?"