encounters with a demon | darkiplier

Chapter 2. What Happened Here?

You pulled up into Mark's apartment complex's parking lot just minutes after leaving your house. You were almost positive you had exceeded the speed limit on at least one of the different roads you took, but you didn't care. All you cared about right now was finding out what was wrong with Mark.

You parked your car and jumped out, noticing the two other cars in the parking lot. Usually there were more people here, but maybe today most people were busy.

You looked up to the sky, noticing the regular rain clouds growing bigger and darkening in color. A real storm was coming, and you didn't understand why people would go out on such a gloomy day. You still didn't have time to care, though, so you ignored your thoughts about that for now, and focused on walking up to the entrance of the apartment complex.

You walked inside the sliding doors, and into the main entry way. You looked over at the front desk, and saw no one sitting behind it. You slowed your steps, taking a moment to stop and look around at the place. The whole place seemed vacant, and it gave off an eerie feel.

You swore you felt eyes burning into the back of your head, but when you spun around, no one was there. Of course no one was there, no one's even here in the first place!

You took a deep breath, and quickened your pace as you passed by the front desk and started down the hall. Just a right turn up ahead, a full set of stairs to conquer, and a left turn at the top of the staircase and you were at his apartment. You went to knock, but saw something out of the corner of your eye. You looked to your right where you thought you saw something, but nothing was there, just an empty hallway. You gazed down the hall for a few seconds more, but still saw nothing, so you turned back to the door to see it open a crack.

Now you know for a fact that the door wasn't open when you got there. You pushed it open, anyways, and walked inside. You let out a gasp when you saw the inside of the apartment. It looked as though a tornado had just ripped through there

His couch was flipped over, and feathers from the ripped up pillows were everywhere. The lamp on the end table was smashed on the floor and the end table was split down the middle, both sides laying on the ground. All the pictures he had up on his walls were ripped off and the glass was broken.

You looked in the kitchen and it was even worse. Food was sprawled out all over the place and it looked like plates, bowls, and other dishes were thrown at the wall and were smashed. The small kitchen table and chairs were all flipped over. You didn't want to think about what could have happened here, so you decided to look for Mark.

"Mar-" you started to call out, but shut up immediately as you turned around, and saw one single chair in the middle of his small living room that wasn't damaged or broken at all. It was never there before, so where did it come from? But in that very chair sat the man you had been calling for days. His head was hung low, and his hands and feet were tied up. You could see blood stains all over his clothes.

You walked closer and heard a loud crunch under your foot. You looked down and noticed you had stepped on his glasses. It didn't matter, he was going to need a replacement of everything he owned, anyways. Just as you were about to get close enough to see his face, you heard his voice, the one from the phone call.

"How nice of you to finally show up. Your dear friend and I have been waiting for your arrival." it growled, and you spun around because you had no idea where the voice was coming from. Suddenly, you noticed a figure standing in the corner of the room. He stepped into the light that was barely there from the gray sky coming through the window. You could just make out the details in his face to know that it was Mark. But wasn't Mark in the chair right behind you?

You turned back around and confirmed that it was Mark still tied up to the chair. You looked back up, and the figure was closer now, his face looking exactly like Mark's, but some of the details were off. His eyes were pitch black, not that soft brown that Mark's were. His raven colored hair deemed to be an even darker shade than it was, and it was very disheveled. His smile wasn't kind, and a couple of his teeth seemed to be razor sharp, almost like they were fangs. And he wore clothing that you knew Mark would never wear, especially if they were all black. Mark liked color. This man obviously did not.

This man was not normal. This whole entire thing that had started with Mark not answering your calls earlier this week was not normal. You stared at his face in fear of how much Mark and the other guy looked alike. You kept looking black and forth between the two, and the evil smile on the stranger's face grew wider each time your eyes landed on him. You didn't understand. Since when were there two Mark's?