My mom gives me a big hug on her way out the door, kissing my forehead.
"I'll be back soon. Love you. Stay safe."
"Love you, too, Mom."
The door closes, and moments later I hear the car start and the garage door close behind her. Mom had told me that her stay had been extended because of some "unforseen events"... meaning there's a solid fifty percent chance a certain demonic doppelganger messed with something. I sigh, knowing that these next few weeks were going to be insufferable. I decide to spend my first solo moments on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in my lap and Rick and Morty turned up on the TV while wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Nothing too flashy, just some quality relaxation.
During the commercials, I scrolled through my social media feed. There's only one picture that Markiplier posted today. It's a simple selfie in his recording room. As always, he looks perfect. Damn, I wish I looked that good all the time.
The lighting is minimal, mostly just focusing on his face. As I look at the picture, however, I see a ghost of a face standing slightly behind Mark and to his right. The shadows seem to bend underneath the face, leading me to believe that it has a body. Skeptical, I skim through the comments. All the fangirls would be screaming if they saw it – who doesn't want more Darkiplier?
I catch myself, thinking, Well, Mark pretending to be Darkiplier.
Nobody in the comments sees anything weird. The fangirls are acting normal, talking about how sexy Mark is or how much they love him. Hell, a few even asked when Dark would be coming back. I sigh, knowing this is just another one of Dark's tricks to make me think I'm going insane. Turning back to Tiny Rick, I shift my position on the couch, munching on more popcorn.
Halfway through the episode, the TV screen freezes up and glitches, making me groan.
"Dark Iplier," I say to the screen. "Now is not the fucking time. You can mess with my dreams, you can make me stab you. Don't mess with my TV."
I grab the remote and press a few buttons. The screen turns to static as two hands appear, seeming to bend the screen outwards. Soon, Dark emerges from it like he's walking out of clear jell-o, yet his suit's still immaculate as ever.
"It almost sounds like you're not happy to see me," he says, walking forward. I clutch my bowl of popcorn so it won't fall.
"Nuh-uh. Nope. Not while I have popcorn and quality programming. Now is a bad time. Now is the worst time," I say, shrinking back to steady the large bowl as he leans over me with his "charming" smile. He laughs, irritating me further.
"I just came to see how you were doing now that you're... alone," he coos.
"Do I need to Megalovania your ass?" I ask, Undertale playlist ready.
"Oh, relax. You're always so tense when I'm around," he complains, standing upright and giving me a small smile.
Gee golly fucking gosh I wonder why, I think directly at him.
"I'm not that scary..." he says nonchalantly. " A m I ? "
In a flash, Dark had appeared in front of me with his glossy, fully blackened eyes and small fangs bared in a sinister smile. My mind glitches in and out of existence. One moment I see my house. The next, I see mangled corpses piled in a corner and a crimson, dripping fluid painting the wall behind him. The corners of my vision darken for an instant, but I shake my head and blink rapidly, fighting off the drowsiness.
"No," I reply, glaring at him. "You're not actually that scary, now that I think about it." His smile falters, turning into more of a grimace. My bright smile seems to annoy him more. "Now, if you would kindly move, I was watching a show."
With a low, infernal growl he complies, understanding that nothing gets in the way of me and my relaxation time. Instead of the usual pestering, Dark sits down beside me on the couch, leaving his attention on the screen. I pause, unsure of what to do now.
"Um... What're you doing?" He glances at me for a second before looking out of our sliding glass door to the back porch.
"You asked me to move," he says simply.
"I know that. I'm asking why you're still here. Like, in my house. Usually when I get on your nerves you just leave."
"I want to stay."
The finality in his tone lets me know that that's the best answer I'm gonna get, so I resume my Rick and Morty marathon. A few minutes later, I feel Dark's eyes burning a hole in the left side of my head. I have no clue how long he's been staring at me, but I continue to ignore it, keeping my mind on the show since I don't want him to bother me any more than he already is.
I only last about two minutes before my mind gives me away. Wouldja just fuckin stop?
I sigh, turning to him. "You need something?"
Dark looks at me without saying anything for a few moments, making me extremely uncomfortable. I hate being judged, and I know that's exactly what he's doing. Finally, he speaks:
"Just figuring out the best way to get to you."
Though I'm surprised by his honesty, his answer is to be expected. Even though I don't know why, Dark has taken an interest in messing with my mind.
"I've already made some assessments," he adds.
I try not to fidget under his gaze, unused to people staring directly at me and giving me undivided attention for long periods of time. At least, not with me directly noticing. I've been in school plays and stuff, but at least then I didn't have to sit right next to the person who was staring at me.
"Enlighten me," I reply, genuinely curious. I've never been harshly analyzed before.
"Hmm... You seem to be detached from other people, choosing to resort to isolation. While you don't feel lonely and don't wish to be, you still crave attention because you're still human."
"Oh, um..."
He continues: "You rarely enjoy physical contact with people you aren't extremely close to, yet again, your humanity thrives off of it. I'm assuming that you dislike many necessary human acts of socialization and expression of emotion, and only do the absolute minimum so as not to go insane."
"I mean, I'm not really a people person, but–"
"Though you know you should, you don't really want to get rid of your depression. You like the darkness and apathy that it allows you, and it's antisocial symptoms allow you more isolated time without immediately visible mental damage."
"I talk to people sometimes."
"Your fears are hostile judgement, pain, pride, and failure. You're an unhealthy perfectionist who can't stand when things aren't absolute. That's why human existence is a constant pain to you – you're constantly stuck in limbo between pure hell and pure bliss. 'Compromise' isn't an option. Things must be certain. You believe that the world should either make perfect sense or be in utter chaos and pandemonium."
I remain silent, because anything I say would either be a blatant lie or just restating what Dark's already figured out. He gazes at me, daring me to question his theories.
"Am I wrong?" It isn't really a question, but more of a trap. He knows that I know that he's right, so I slowly shake my head.
"No. You're... frighteningly on point," I admit.
Dark smiles at my acknowledgement of his victory, and I turn back to the TV. Mostly finished with his analysis, his eyes drift off of me. We sit in silence for some time, watching the purge episode of Rick and Morty.
Honestly, it's one of my favorite episodes. Deep down, though I'd never admit it to anyone, I wish that there were an actual Purge, so I could do all the things I wish I could. Just push my reputation aside for a day and be truly free. Let loose. Forget my conscience and morals...
An annoyed groan pulls my attention to Dark. He seems bored with the episode.
"What's wrong?" I ask. "I thought you'd like these types of episodes."
"This is much less entertaining than actually watching people fight to the death." I stop myself from asking how he knows what that looks like.
"Well I'm sorry I don't have any Colosseum tapes on me, right now. I'll be sure to pick 'em up later. For now, let me enjoy this. I happen to like this one," I snap. Dark looks over at me, and I'm worried he's about to psychoanalyze me again. I tense, remembering how correct he had been when he said I'm afraid of judgement.
"Would you like to see what it actually looks like?"
"What? No!" I say, shaking my head. My answer falls on deaf ears as I feel the room darken.
When I blink, I'm in a new area. I'm sitting in the audience of a darkened arena. The combat ring is lit by a single, red light hanging above it. On the ground is a pentagram, with a arched door in the wall at each corner – meaning ten doors in total. I look around at the rest of the audience, but I can't see anyone. The spectator seats are all in shadow, but I can sense their anticipation. Looking to my left, I see Dark sitting next to me, gazing at the arena.
"Where are we?" I ask in a low voice.
"It's like the Colosseum," he says, "but so... much... better."
I turn away from him, back to the ring, where ten young adults have entered the circular arena with seats surrounding it similar to the Colosseum. They all appear confused and terrified. Their faces are shadowed, but it's obvious that they're apprehensive.
A loud voice coming from an unknown source says: "Welcome, contestants. The rules here are simple." I hear the voice saying these words in another language that I don't know, but I understand it perfectly. "Only one of you can leave this arena alive. We leave it up to you to decide who that is."
The "contestants" look at each other... Some in horror or shock, some in fear, others in grim determination. Four who intended to play dirty glanced at the other people to try and form allies, undoubtedly intending to stab them in the back later on. Three who were truly cowardly clawed at the barred door in a desperate attempt to leave. Two steel themselves for a fight – one analyzing their opponents, the other focusing on formulating a strategy.
Tch, typical humans.
The final one, who my eyes were drawn to from the beginning because of their calm disposition, sits on the ground and accepts their fate. They know they can't win, but they know they can't leave.
"3... 2... 1... Begin." A reddish flame ignites around the circumference of the ring.
For an instant, they all stay still, but it's only the calm before the storm.