More Than a Monster - Vampire!Markiplier x Reader

You Have a Lot to Explain

     Ethan's heart was racing. "You have a lot to explain." He said. He was right. This was going to be the end of him.

"Yeah." Mark sighed. He pulled out of the driveway and onto the busy streets of LA. "I guess I should start by saying I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry." Mark repeated. "I'm sorry I lost control."

"You..." Ethan couldn't find words. "You're a vampire?" He blurted out.

"I figured we'd already established that." Said Mark.

"Well... I don't know! Fuck, Mark, it's not exactly easy to believe!" Ethan shouted.

"I'm a vampire." Said Mark. "Have been for years."

"What are you- I- Mark-" Ethan fumbled with words.

"Calm down, Ethan. Think rationally about this. It makes it a whole lot easier." Mark said lowly. "Breathe."

Ethan nodded. He took a few deep breaths and organized his thoughts. Mark was a vampire. It hadn't really registered yet, but it was true. He had attacked him. He hadn't killed him. He apologized for it.

"Okay." Ethan said. "I'm calm. But still don't trust you."

Mark let out a dry laugh. "Doesn't really matter at this point, does it? You're stuck in the car with me whether you like it or not." Ethan's eyes went wide. "Sorry." Mark muttered. He sighed. "I don't know where to start." He said.

"How about the fact that I have no scars or marks from you attacking me?" Said Ethan, turning his hand over.

"Vampire blood has healing properties," Mark explained. "If you drink it, it heals you, but if you die with it in your system, you become a vampire."

Ethan paled. "So if we crashed, and I died, I'd turn into... one?"

Mark gave a single nod. They fell into extremely awkward silence as each couldn't figure out what to say next.

Eventually, Mark spoke.

"If you have any questions, you might as well ask. I've never had to explain this before."

"You've never told anyone else about this?" Ethan asked.

Mark cocked his head to one side. "Well, not really. Everyone else ran away when they found out. I didn't really get much of a chance to tell them my side of the story."

Ethan looked out the window. "That's kinda sad." He said softly.

Mark shrugged, although it hurt to think about. "The past is in the past." He said. "Nothing I can do to change it."

"I guess." Said Ethan. He hesitated with his next question.

"You've... you've never hurt (Y/n), have you?" He asked.

"No!" Mark exclaimed. "No, no, I'd never dream of it. Not on purpose, anyway," he added lowly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ethan asked.

Mark thought out his next words carefully. If he still had a heartbeat, it would be racing almost as fast as Ethan's. Both men were terrified, ridden with the fear that everything would come crashing down in a second. "Sometimes I don't drink enough." Mark said. "I should, theoretically, drink once every day, but I keep trying to... extend it. Give some living thing out there more time to live. And, when that happens, the cravings get bad.

"I've gotten better at controlling it." Mark assured him. "But I guess I saw your blood and it kinda drove me crazy."

"Kinda?" Ethan said. "You nearly killed me."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I really am." Mark said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel nervously. Ethan just noticed his white-knuckled grip.

"What about when you told me the attack had all been a dream?" Ethan asked. "I just... believed you."

"I bent your mind." Mark said bluntly. Ethan's stomach churned at the thought of Mark controlling him. "My eyes-" he waved in the general direction of his face. "-turn yellow when I feed or control people. You don't remember it because I didn't want you to."

Ethan whispered so Mark wouldn't hear him. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Well, it's your car." Mark replied.

"You heard that?"

"There isn't a lot I don't hear." Mark said.

"Oh." Ethan shifted awkwardly.

"You aren't going to tell anyone about this, right Ethan?" Mark asked.

There was silence. "I just..." Ethan sighed. "How do I know you won't hurt us?" He asked. Mark felt almost sick himself. He felt completely separate from the rest of the team. He wasn't like them. He was something different, something wrong.

"If I wanted to hurt you, I would have a long time time ago." He said.

"But you did." Ethan pointed out.

"I didn't want to, though! Please, Ethan, don't tell the others." Mark pleaded.

"I..." Ethan hesitated. "I won't." He said.

Mark let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"On one condition." Ethan said.

"Anything." Mark replied.

"Tell me how to kill you." Ethan said lowly. They were nearly at his house.

The fact that one day, Ethan might have to kill him made his stomach churn, but he was right. He should know. In case anything went wrong. Mark nodded. "Wooden stake through the heart or- or decapitation." He said.

"That was... surprisingly easy." Ethan said.

"No, you're right. If something ever goes wrong- if I lose control again or try to hurt someone- don't hesitate. Just stab me through the stomach if you don't want to kill me, but stop me if something ever happens." Mark said.

"Do you... want to die?" Ethan asked.

Mark swallowed. "No. But if it's between that and hurting someone, I don't want you to hesitate." The thought alone of accidentally killing one of his friends- maybe even you- gave him a lump in his throat.

Ethan nodded gravely. "Okay."

Mark parked the car outside Ethan's apartment. He took a deep breath, then laughed. "This is so surreal." He said.

"Yeah. Ethan," Mark said as they stepped out of the car. "I'm sorry."

Ethan smiled sadly and nodded. "I know."

"Nothing's going to change, right?" Mark asked. The cold was biting and the wind had picked up. "I'm still me. I'm still the same person you moved to LA to work with."

"I don't think things can stay the same way they were." Ethan said. "But, that's natural when you learn something new about your friends, right?" When Mark didn't answer, Ethan spoke again. "I need time to think about this, but... I guess I trust you. Somewhat."

"I'll take it." Mark smiled.

Ethan nodded and entered his apartment, leaving his friend without a goodbye. Mark turned his collar up to the cold and shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked alone back to his own apartment, the sinking guilt in his gut following him the whole way home.