Man Down (Markiplier x reader)

True Ending 5

A loud, unrecognizable sound filled the entire room. It sounded like a chainsaw or lawnmower went off, a faint metallic smell in the distance. With his thoughts messed up again, Mark walked down the stairs,

And saw something that he could never recover from.

A blood bath was displayed right in front of him, a circular chainsaw in (Y/N)'s hands as she cut through his mom's right leg.

Her head was already cut off, rolling closer to Mark's black shoe.

A smile was plastered on the girl's face as she calmly sawed through another leg, looking up to face Mark. She put the chainsaw off to the side and used her arm to wipe off the sweat building on her forehead, accidentally marking herself with the dark red blood.

"Hey, you finally came." She said cheerfully, the murderous glare still lingering in her eyes. She acted like she wasn't dismembering her love's mother a few seconds ago, and Mark's brain didn't know how to process it. What was he even looking at? He felt sick to his stomach; like someone booted him in his abdomen with the hardest kick in the world.

Mark was in full shock, he wasn't able to move, his blood running cold in his body while his brown eyes stayed on his mother's detached head. He hunched over slightly, stumbling on his two feet because of overwhelming nausea that washed over him, his body threatening to regurgitate everything he ate today seeing her brown eyes rolled back and metallic smelling blood smeared carelessly on her face. He tried to convince his mind that it wasn't his mom, but the horrid visuals made it impossible.

"..." The boy couldn't even form words in his stunned state. He refused to believe that his mom was dead, no longer here. The one woman that he loved with all his heart, gone without a trace, and the fact that she still could have been here if he was just a little bit quick hit him like a truck. His tardiness was the result of his mother's death, and he can't go back in time to fix it. Her lifeless body laid there, swimming in the dark red blood, all because he wasn't fast enough.

"Eomma..."

And just like that, it was like something snapped in Mark's head. 

A switch flipped in his brain.

He couldn't feel anything anymore, the sight of his mom's body didn't bother him anymore and the horrid and despairing screams from Lucas were nothing but background noise to him; it was like he fell out of touch with reality. He no longer felt sick and this breathing steadied. Everything went numb. His face became paler, more stoic and more lifeless as the moments went by, and the (E/C) eyed girl couldn't help but grin from ear to ear when she saw that he was in the palm of her hands, trapped with nowhere to escape.

"Yes yes, your eomma is right here, but unfortunately, she's dead. All because of you Mark!" (Y/N)'s voice was way too cheerful for the type of gloomy and depressing environment they were in. She sounded like a kindergarten teacher who was leading a lost child, but this lost child had lost his mom for good.

(Y/N) walked over to his side, standing right beside the now disconnected man, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff as they both stared on to the mat.

"She was pretty and kind too, Markimoo, but too bad, you ran to the police without a second thought. Now she's pretty and kind and dead!" The (H/C) haired girl chuckled, a faint sigh leaving her mouth afterwards. She knew exactly what she did, and she was proud of the turnout: relieved that Mark has officially become desensitized and is basically a mind slave. Killing the only thing that truly matters to him and forcing him to disconnect from reality? That type of stuff only works in movies. (Y/N) herself was surprised she managed to pull it off so successfully.

"Ha..." She sighed in content with everything that happened, her round cheeks turning a bright pink with delight. She was satisfied with the turn out of one of her most daring plans (aside from kidnapping Lucas). Now all she had to do was sit back and live out her dream life with Mark as from this point, Mark has no sense of direction, no longer had a way of life. Almost like a child, his life depends on the words of others. More specifically (Y/N).

"Want to help me dismember and burn her body, Markimoo? It'll be the last time you get to say goodbye." (Y/N) cooed, her hoarse voice awfully sweet, leaning over towards him to place a kiss on his cheek, a hand on the other cheek to push him closer. When she moved away, blood was smudged all over Mark's cheek, but he didn't care. He didn't have the capacity to.

The brown-haired boy followed suit, moving closer to the dead body, looking at it with icy cold eyes. He didn't feel the anger he felt a few minutes ago at the police station, didn't feel the stress and anxiety back at the other house. He couldn't feel at all. He was just there, and the body was there too. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Ah, I should get you suited up first." (Y/N) pointed out, her mouth shaping an "O" as she finally took her soiled black gloves off, placing a strand of hair behind her ear one they were off. "Come with me baby, we don't want to get dirty now, do we?" She giggled, running up the stairs to go to the kitchen and like before, Mark followed, his heavy body trudging along.

The pair reached the kitchen and the giddy girl didn't waste any time pondering, getting an apron and a couple of gloves for him while Mark stood on the side, looking down onto the ground. His breathing was shallow.

"Here, wear these." She said as she handed the gloves to him. The (H/C) haired girl suited him up, tying the strings tightly behind his back as Mark took his sweet time putting on the gloves. (Y/N) grabbed a new pair of gloves from the box, speedily place them on and held Mark's hand as they went back downstairs. She even took one of her extra elastic bands and tied Mark's dark brown hair in a neat ponytail, moving stray strands from his line of vision.

"You can stay right here..." She mumbled, placing the larger man on the other side of the mat where his mom's arm was already detached from the body. She shoved a hand saw. "I need you to slice that into three pieces, that way it'll fit into the bag easier, and I'll finish with this leg over here, okay?" There was no response. "Okay."

Before (Y/N) got her new gloves dirty, she quickly got up and turned the volume to the radio up, the broken system playing Stayin Alive. She chuckled at how the song was so unintentionally fitting to the situation, googling her way back to the mat.

And just like that, Mark participated in the dismemberment of his mother, simply throwing the cut-up body parts in the black duffel bag that (Y/N) prepared. He swiftly ran through the two arms, going onto the legs while (Y/N) moved to the chest and abdomen.

His heart and mind were numb, he didn't feel anything while he cut through his mom's remains. His heart didn't stop when he threw her hands into the bag, or when her blood splattered onto his apron. The fact that he's contributing to his mother's murder didn't phase him one bit, or the fact that he's working with someone while doing so.

But when he thought about her, the woman he truly loved right from the beginning, the woman he gave his all to, has left,

A single tear fell from his eye.