Demon Dads (DarkiplierXAntisepticeyeXIdkAnymore,Someone)

The Second Floor

     I spent the next few days settling into a new life. I played with my dolls, and sometimes Anti or Dark joined me. I knew now to obey the rules rigidly, and for the most part, I stayed in my room, away from the basement and the other residents of the household, and certainly not going near whoever Dark had over. But then I got bored of the dolls and ventured forth from my hidey hole, out into the house.
     I just about changed my mind at the bedroom door. I remembered what had happened last time I left. But I wanted to see the other people. Wilford looked nice.
     So I crept down the stairs to the second floor, wondering if there was anyone there. I padded softly down the hall, trying to be as quiet as Anti, but the floor kept creaking. I shushed it out loud, wondering how on Earth Anti go around without the floor being noisy. When I reached the first door, I reached out and eased it open.
     Inside was a bed, made with precise neatness. A dresser stood against the wall, with no dust or knick knacks on top or clothes spilling out of the drawers. The floor was hardwood, not carpet like most bedrooms I'd seen. And it was singularly uncluttered.
     Google sat on a chair by the bed. He seemed...eerie. His eyes still glowed, but they stared straight ahead at the blank wall. He didn't move a muscle. Floating in front of him was what looked like a loading bar in midair. It wasn't on a screen or anything, it was just there, like a movie hologram. It looked about half full.
     Google abruptly turned his head towards me, in a sudden, robotic gesture. He looked at me for a moment.
     "Hi, Google," I said, waving nervously.
     "You are di-i-i-stracting me fro-o-om my upgra-a-ade," Google replied, his voice skipping every once in a while, like a scratched CD. His head moved too, suddenly in a different position for less than a quarter of a second at a time. I remembered Ma once cursing at a computer that was showing things like that, but this wasn't a computer. "Get o-o-ut of my-y-y room," Google said. I turned a dashed out, closing the door behind me.
     I stood against the door, breathing quickly. After a moment, I calmed somewhat and tried the door across the hall.
     This room was livelier, but unoccupied. The bed was messy, with only a half-hearted attempt to straighten the sheets. The dresser was slightly dusty, a couple of pairs of gray suspenders and pink bow ties hung from knobs on the drawers, and the top was covered with objects, but it was too tall for me to see. I thought I saw a hint of fluffy pink and something else that glinted gold. Curious, I went further in.
     There was a closet behind the dresser. The kind of closet that doesn't have a door. I could see a few red and white striped jackets and a few dress shirts of various shades ranging from offwhite to a dusty yellow. There were a few pairs of grey pants hanging.
     "Well, hellooooo there!" Slurred a booming voice behind me.
     Wilford stood in the doorway, wearing a light yellow shirt, gray pants and suspenders, and a pink bow tie. He grinned at me, but I was all too aware of Anti's warning about him.
     "You know," Wilford said as he walked past me to the dresser, "It is rude to go into someone's room without permission." He grabbed the flash of gold from the top. It was a tiny, double-barreled gold pistol. He held it loosely in one hand and turned to face me. "After all," he continued, his voice gaining a malicious edge, "I have been living here far longer than you."
     My mind blanked, and my breathing quickened. Anti had said something... Or was it Dark? I couldn't remember what to do...
     "Aww, did I scare you?" Wilford said, and then I remembered what Dark had said. He's rather scared of Anti.
     "B-back away!" I said, my small voice shaking. "I'll... I'll..."
     "You'll do what?" Wilford asked, aiming the pistol at my forehead.
     "I'll yell for Anti," I blurted, my gaze caught by the pistol. It was such a pretty thing... like something from a circus... Wilford certainly seemed like he had run from a circus...
     The pistol lifted away. I looked up at Wilford. He seemed a little terrified, but he passed it off with a bluster. "I wasn't going to shoot you," he said, as if the idea was ridiculous. "I just wanted to point out that you were in my room and should get out, that's all. Go on, out."
     I wasn't sure whether to believe him. I turned around and ran, and I didn't stop running until I was back in my attic room with the door shut. They wouldn't get me up here. Here I was safe.
     Not much later, I heard a knock on the door. Anti's voice said, "Come on out, kid, it's suppertime."
     I stayed where I was. I never wanted to leave again.
     He knocked again. "Kid?" Then he opened the door and found me hiding under my blankets. "What happened?" He asked.
     I told him the story, starting to sob. He listened, then wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. "I'm not sure whether he wanted to shoot or not," I said, sniffling, "but it felt like he would."
     "He would've," Anti said softly. "But he won't, not as long as I'm here. I promise. Just please don't go into their rooms again."
     I sobbed into his black shirt for a little while longer, then quieted. I felt safe there. Anti wouldn't hurt me, and he wouldn't let Wilford shoot me.
     "Now come on down to dinner, and I'll have a talk with Wilford. Okay?"
     I nodded.