This is a continuation from when the reader has been kidnapped. Please remember that this chapter has themes and violence that may be difficult to read. Proceed at your own risk.
ALSO: This chapter is not the legitimate ending to the story! This chapter is just an alternate chapter.
You slowly come to, opening your eyes. The right side of your head is pounding in pain. You groan, coughing and causing yourself more pain. Your back is slumped against a rough tree, the bark digging into your spine. Grass is under you, and you hear faint talking.
It takes a while, but your senses come back. Your vision is still blurry as you hear Wilford grunting and another voice crying out in pain. Oh god, it's Mark! You struggle to bring your head upright as you focus on Wilford, through bleary eyes, who is holding Mark by the collar. His fist is repeatedly rearing back and slamming itself into Mark's face, riddling Mark with bruises, torn skin, scrapes and blood.
Anger flares up inside you as you slowly stand, swaying with dizziness and nausea. You lean against the tree for support, then reach a hand up to where the pain radiates from your head, and feel dried blood matted in your hair.
You grunt as you look at the scene in front of you. Glitch's bloodied body is off to the left, just visible in the darkness of the trees. Light's body is nowhere to be seen. Dark is slumped against a tree, opposite of you, his head hanging. You can't see Google anywhere, although you could swear that you saw two pair of red, glowing eyes just a second ago in the darkness just beyond the treeline.
Wilford pauses his beating, as if sensing something, and looks across to you. His smile widens, as big as a shark's, as he drops Mark with a sickening thump. He straightens up, rolls his shoulders, and begins stalking towards you.
Against your will, your body starts trembling with your heart thumping. You straighten yourself up as Wilford reaches you, his hand resting on your shoulder as he breathes in raggedly. He leans in close to your ear, his body pressed up against the side of yours, and murmurs.
"Glad to see you're with us, (y/n). Come and join the party. You get to cut the cake."
Wilford grabs you by the collar and wrenches you onto your knees, your hands slamming to the ground. You choke up blood, dry heaving from the sudden movement. Wilford sighs in dissatisfaction and drags you, roughly, along the grass to where Mark is, grass burning your knees and arms.
He drops you so you're face-to-face with Mark. Mark moves his bloodied face, just slightly, to look at you. His brown eyes speak volumes of which he can't say. Blanching at the sight, you reach out and touch his cheek tentatively, smiling softly. It'll be okay, you think, unable to say the words.
Your tender moment is broken by Wilford as he rips you up, hands rough against the skin of your neck.
"Alright, lovebirds," he spits out bitterly, standing to your side, looking down on Mark. His lips etch into a smile as he releases you.
Your eyes are locked to Mark, the extent of his injuries. Wilford's hand grips your chin, turning your head to look to his dull red eyes. "Now, (y/n).. I know how uncooperative you are. You know you can do this easily, hmm? All you have to do is kill the poor bastard. Then the job is done."
You avert your eyes, too focused on Mark to care. You hear his annoyed intake of breath, so before he snaps, you look up back to him, your mouth pressed into a thin and angry line.
"I'm done being your bitch, Wilford," you say firmly. Wilford scowls, grip on your chin tightening.
"You will do as I say," Wilford snarls, moving closer to you.
You glare at him and reply, "I will not do as you say."
Wilford growls and grabs your by the hair, tilting your head back. "I've waited all my fucking life for this. If you don't cooperate, I'll make you mine again. And I'll never let you go. Kill Mark Fischbach."
You whimper at his actions, gripping his hand. Your force your head back down to look right into his pink irises. "Go ahead and fucking kill me. I will never do anything for you ever again."
Wilford grunts and lets you go, then he pulls out a black blade. Every alarm inside of you screams that this is bad. Whatever he's holding sends shivers down your spine. Wilford moves towards you and shoves the blade's hilt into your dominant hand, forcing your fingers to curl around it.
The hilt sears your fingers and your palm, causing you to cry out with pain. You bring your other hand to clutch your wrist, doubling over. You try to let go of the blade, but it seems seamed to your hand. Wilford laughs and walks over to hoist Mark up to standing on his own two feet. Mark's brown eyes meet yours, clouded with regret and surrender.
Your heart aches for him. "I love you," you whisper, a smile forming on your lips. Mark, too weak to respond, smiles feebly and closes his eyes, awaiting the pain.
Don't give up yet, sweetheart, you think. You lift the blade up as if to strike Mark down, closing your own eyes.
Wilford lets out a surprised gasp. You open your eyes, turning your head to see what's happened. To your shock, you're met with Wilford getting flung across the clearing by Google. Google's red eyes flash as he says in his robotic tone, "I will not let you kill my master."
Wilford stands up and glares at Google, shaking. "I am your master, you dumb piece of shit machine!"
Google stops and shakes his head. "My true master has reprogrammed me. I no longer wish to help you in your deeds."
Before Wilford can say anything, Google runs and launches himself at Wilford. They kick, bite and punch, and while Wilford is distracted you look at Mark. You let your hands go limp and you hang them in front of you.
"Mark," you murmur, a tone of urgency in your voice. "Mark, heal yourself. Google's brought us some time. We can use it to our advantage."
Mark looks at you and straightens up, the cuts and grazes already starting to heal themselves. He looks at Dark and walks over to him silently, picking his twin up by the armpits gently. Dark groans, and Mark starts to heal him. When they're done they both come over to you.
"What are we going to do?" Dark murmurs, rubbing a fading bruise on his arm gently. His eyes are on Wilford and Google, not sparing a glance to you.
"I need to stab him to get him out of here, so you two obviously have to hold him down," you say. You turn to watch the scuffle, too, and you can see its a losing battle to Google.
"We should save Google. You know, I haven't even reprogrammed him. He just didn't want to see me killed," Mark murmurs. He lets out a short sigh and looks at Dark. They meet eyes, both nod and walk towards the fight.
Mark grabs Google and wrenches him off Wilford, and the robot rolls to the side. Wilford looks up in surprise before getting his nose by Mark's fist slamming hard and fast. Dark comes over and kicks Wilford in the side. They both squat to their knees and hold Wilford's arms and legs down with an iron grip simultaneously, as if connected by a mental bond.
He isn't getting anywhere, now, you think to yourself.
Mark glances at you, eyes set and determined. You give a nod and walk over to where the bastard is laying. You look down on him, a frown of disgust on your face. You crouch down, hold the blade up, preparing to strike.
YOU CANNOT KILL ME! I AM MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE!, a voice screams inside your head. You give out a cry, falling backwards with your face tightening in pain, arms curling around your head. You hear something going on around you, but your ears are ringing too loudly to pinpoint what is happening. You then receive a hard and sharp jab to your stomach, and you roll onto your back.
A pressure on your stomach holds you still, stopping you from heaving your breath.
You open your eyes to see Wilford standing over you like a demon. His face drips blood, silhouetted by a vibrant pink sky.
"It's not fun, is it?" he growls. His voice is audibly clear over the ringing of your ears. You whimper, your arms covering your ears as you shut your eyes against him. You get a kick to your side, his foot returning, pressing hard into your stomach again. You start coughing, hacking, unable to cope with all the pain.
"This'll teach you to disobey my orders," Wilford snarls. Once again you are ripped back onto your feet. You still cough as you open your eyes, slumping sideways.
"You know what," you say weakly, turning around to face him. "I'm done with you and your shit. You came into my life and you fucking turned it around. I just wanted to be Mark's partner. But then you just had to fucking show up and invade our privacy. And guess what? I'm going to kill you because of that."
By the end of your little speech Wilford is grinning like a madman. You snarl and leap forward, despite the pain he had inflicted on you before. The both of you tumble to the ground.
You end up on top, adrenaline coursing through your blood making the pain seem irrelevant. Angrily, you start slashing at his face, neck, chest and arms with the knife. You feel like a blur, not knowing you had this much power in you. After a few more seconds of this, you finally plant the blade in Wilford's chest, where it belongs.
You take a second to see what you've done. Maroon blood makes his face unrecognisable. You can't fathom what you've done. With a mask of horror on your face you fall off him and crawl backwards, scuffling away from the horror as fast as you can. You can't avert your eyes away from the bloodied mess. He's done for. With this realisation, you put your head in your hands and sob hysterically, whole body shaking and wracking with fear.
"Hey," Mark murmurs. You look up at him, who stands over you, eyes watering and bottom lip trembling. You feel like a child as you lift your arms, Mark accepting the offer and sitting down to draw you into his lap. He wraps his arms around your body, cradling you like a baby, bringing your face into his neck as he rocks you back and forth.
"Oh god, oh god I k-killed him," you say, your trembling voice muffled. You saying those words makes you sob even more, saying the truth embedding it into your mind like a brand.
"It's okay, (y/n). You've done what's right."
"N-no," you say, looking up at him, gripping to his torn and bloodied shirt. "He-he was a person too. I'm a monster, Mark. Oh god, I'm a monster. I'm, I'm-"
"It's okay. Shh," he whispers, one hands cupping your cheek. "Everything's okay, now. No more Wilford. We'll be able to live in peace. You and me. How good will that be, huh?" Mark asks calmly, his thumb stroking your cheek. He brings you even closer than before, resting his chin on your head as he grips you with more than reassurance.
You feel safe in his arms, and you don't know how long the both of you stay embraced as the sky darkens, carrying with it the events of the day.