Septiplier One-Shots

Monster

WARNING: This chapter gets a little... violent. And sad. If you really can't handle violence, I do NOT recommend reading this. Like, seriously... I'm having the worst time writing this, which makes me question why I'm writing it anyway.

"M-Mark, please. We know y-you're still in there; we can help you!" Bob said, trying to stay calm. Past experiences taught him that panicking will get you killed, or at least severely injured.

"The only person you need to save is yourself." Mark stepped closer, wearing a terrifying smile on his face. His eyes no longer had that special shine it used to have; his eyes were now completely dark. The Mark that everyone once knew and loved was gone, and there was such a small chance of him ever coming back.

"We're your friends! We're pretty much family if you think about it! Would you really kill us?"

"Let me think about that..." Mark tapped his chin and looked around, as if to show that he was thinking. He suddenly turned and stared at Bob, his black eyes piercing Bob like a knife. "Yes."

Wade only saw a blood-covered blade pierce through Bob's chest and through his back. Mark removed the blade, poking Bob so he would fall over. Wade let out a small scream as Bob collapsed to the floor, a pool of blood starting to form.

"Mark-!" Wade had no time to say anything before the blade went through his stomach. He kneeled in front of Wade, the same disgusting smile still on his face. Mark removed the blade and lifted it up, preparing to put it through Wade's skull.

"...Mark?" A quiet voice suddenly said at the doorway. Mark knew this voice. He knew this Irish accent, and he knew it belonged to. Jack. "Wh-What are you doing?"

The darkness left Mark's eyes, its normal color starting to reappear. Mark looked at the blade in his hand, dropping it at the sight of all the blood. His hands were covered with blood. He look on the floor, noticing his poor, poor friends.

"Bob... Wade?" Mark said, realizing what he had done. He stood up and turned to see his beloved Irishman. Jack was shaking with fear, and Mark instantly knew that this story would not have a happy ending.

"Jack, I-I didn't want to. I-"

"Where did you go, Mark? I fell in love with such an amazing man, and now he's gone."

"N-No! Jack, I'm here. I'm here." Knowing their manly reputations, these two wouldn't cry a lot. This situation was something that wasn't worth holding back the tears, so they both just let it go.

"Mark..." Jack was barely able to speak, his voice cracking, indicating he was going to start sobbing.

"I love you, Jack," Mark slowly walked towards Jack, not wanting to hurt him anymore, "I love you-"

"Stay away from me, Mark!" Jack snapped, stepping back. He wiped the tears from his eyes and refused to make eye contact with Mark.

"Jack, please..."

"You aren't you anymore! I can't trust you and... and you killed our friends! You're turning into something else. You're dark; Dark instead of Mark. You aren't the man I fell in love with."

"Yes, I am! I'm still me-"

"Please, Mark. Stop lying. I-I can't do this anymore." Jack wiped the tears from is eyes once again, but Mark let them stream down his face. Jack stepped toward Mark, staring into his beautiful eyes for the last time. "I'm sorry."

Jack closed the small gap between them, pressing his lips against Mark's. They shared one last kiss, though neither of them wished it was the last one. "I love you so much, Mark. I love you."

"Jack..." He watched as Jack ran out, leaving Mark all alone. "I love you, too." He whispered, wishing Jack could hear him. He needed his boyfriend with him. He was the only one that kept him sane.

Then again, his friends kept him sane before he met Jack. How long would it take for Mark to turn on the man he loves?

He looked around, staring at all the blood. He stared at his friends, the sight of them making him want to puke. Mark couldn't deny it; he couldn't be saved. He knew he can't save himself. He can't fix the dark side of him. He can't get rid of the monster inside of him.

"I'm..." Mark noticed the blade on the ground. He walked towards it and picked it up with a shaky hand. With the blade in hand, his eyes started to change color. One eye, actually. His eyes were now black and their normal shade of brown; looking at him would be quite a sight to see. He spoke with two voices; one with emotion, and one without it. I fucked up, he thought. I killed my friends, and I hurt the man I love. I can't do this anymore. He stared at the blade and turned it on himself.

"I'm a monster."