I'm Here to Help You (Darkiplier x Reader)

The Demon's Vengeance

"Would you like to take care of the other?" Dark's eyes move to mine. In them I'm shocked to find the same – maybe even more – hatred that I saw in them for Martino. A chill runs down my spine, and I'm relieved that no such anger is directed at me.

I nod eagerly in response to his question, flipping open my pocketknife. As I walk in front of him, Armon's eyes move to mine. Before he can protest, I stab the knife into his hand and carve my first initial into it. More pained outbursts emanate from the man, blood trailing from his hand, to the arm of the chair, then slowly dripping to the floor.

"Nice touch," Dark compliments. I grin at him, then turn and run the blade along the man's arm. The shallow cut allows more redness to seep out, trailing down the length of the appendage.

Dark returns to his place, letting his hand hover above the barista's again. Just like the first time, the blackness start to crawl higher, reaching his elbow, and soon his shoulder. This time, even though Dark takes his hand away, the charcoal colored goo continues to devour more of Armon's body. I take my knife away from his arm and stab it lightly into the right side of the man's chest with my left hand. Agonizingly slowly, I tear it to his left side by his hip.

Now, I sit back and watch a steady flow of blood pour from the wound. Then, I step back and let Dark take over. It's really his victim, after all.

Contrary to what I expected, Dark takes my right hand and holds it above Armon's own right hand. Dark places his other hand on my shoulder. A shiver shakes me for a moment before I feel immense power course through my body and pass through my hand. It's slightly painful, but overwhelmingly satisfying. I look down to see that this time, I've caused the black tendrils to begin to devour the barista's limb. When the darkness consumes the hand I'd carved into, the scar of the letter leaves a sizzling, white imprint on his hand.

Finally, I take my hand away. Fascination overcomes me, and I merely watch as the black substance moves up from his hand, to his elbow, to his shoulder, and then meets with the rest of the sickly stuff at his chest. From there, it crawls down to the gash across his torso. I'm so entranced by the way it seems to close over the wound and turn it a burning white that I hadn't noticed that Dark moved behind the man. Armon's screams haven't stopped, and his face is now drenched with sweat.

"Too bad you never learned to keep your hands to yourself, you egocentric asshole," I spit.

Dark's hands move to either side of Armon's head, still not touching him. The black growth appears from where his ears are, now, and makes its way across the sides of his face. The tendrils from his neck move upwards as well, rising up his chin.

I'm captivated by the next horrifying part as Dark makes his way behind me to watch, as well.

Armon's shrieks of fear and intense pain rise in volume and velocity as the strange growth climbs up his chin and wraps over his mouth, muffling the piercing noise. It glosses over his nose, and I watch as what little visible skin is left begins to turn blue with lack of oxygen. The man's eyes widen and he jerks from side to side. The tendrils move over his eyes, as well, and I can hear light squishing sounds. The man's back arches in the chair as he convulses, and I'm led to believe that the things have entered his eye sockets.

Finally, Armon stops moving for good.

A sickening feeling grips my stomach at the grotesque display – I basically just watched weird goo create a mummy out of a living man – but there's also the adrenaline. Still, I take a step back and shudder. Then, I turn to Dark, who seems satisfied with his work.

"Hey, Dark? One quick thing–" I say, still feeling a bit grossed out. "If you're gonna kill me someday, for fuck's sake please don't do that. Because... Boy howdy was that something."

Dark's eyes finally move to mine, no longer full of hatred, but of contemplation. The sickening feeling has passed now, and I feel fine again. When I blink, we're back in the house, but Dark's still staring at me. I open my mouth to speak, but Dark answers me.

"You're going to ask why I'm staring at you. The reason is this: You've just witnessed something incredibly gruesome and horrific, yet you still feel nothing."

I shrug. "I was pretty grossed out. That squishing sound... blegh. Gross."

"You felt excited."

"I always get excited after witnessing a murder. You know this."

The demon looks at me with a look of pure incredulity, one that I've never seen on him before. I fidget under his continued stare, confused as to why he's so surprised that I'm okay.

I've seen people get killed – no – I've killed people before. What's the big deal?

Finally, Dark looks away from me in exasperation.

"Why does nothing work on you!?"

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "I'm Here to Help You" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments and votes are super appreciated. Thanks for reading! ~Blue