Markiplier Oneshots

Psychopath: 7 & 8

The search felt endless as Amy and her friends combed through the woods, calling Mark's name repeatedly. Each echo of their voices felt like a reminder of their mounting dread. The trees loomed tall and dark, their shadows stretching long as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"Mark!" Amy cried out again, her voice hoarse with worry. "Please, just let us know you're okay!"

As the minutes turned into hours, despair began to set in. The group gathered in a small clearing, faces etched with exhaustion and concern.

"Maybe we should go back to the house and try calling him again," Ethan suggested, glancing around the gathering dusk. "We can regroup and come up with a better plan."

Just as the words left his mouth, a sudden vibration broke the tense silence. Amy fished her phone from her pocket, heart racing as she saw a message from Mark.

"Stay away from me. I shouldn't be near people right now."

The air felt thick as the weight of those words sank in. Amy's heart plummeted. "No, no, no..."

"What does it say?" Wade asked, leaning closer.

"Mark wants us to stay away from him," Amy whispered, her voice trembling. "He doesn't want to be around anyone right now."

"Damn it," Bob muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This is exactly what we were afraid of."

Tyler frowned, deep in thought. "But why? He's our friend. He shouldn't be alone like this."

A flicker of memory crossed Amy's mind, one of their many adventures into the woods. "Wait. There's that old cabin he likes to go to, remember? It's isolated but close enough that he could have gotten there quickly."

"Yeah," Wade replied, his eyes lighting up with hope. "It's not far from here. If he's trying to be alone, that might be where he went."

"Let's go, then!" Amy urged, already moving toward the path that led deeper into the woods. "We can't leave him there."

They rushed through the trees, hearts pounding as the thought of Mark being alone in that cabin consumed them. The path twisted and turned, and just as the last rays of sunlight flickered behind the horizon, they finally caught sight of the cabin nestled among the trees.

"It's over there!" Amy pointed, relief washing over her.

They hurried toward the cabin, a mix of hope and fear coursing through them. As they approached, the sight of the old wooden structure sent a wave of anxiety through Amy.

"Mark?" she called softly as they reached the door. "It's us. Can we come in?"

Silence answered her. The door was slightly ajar, creaking ominously as the wind whispered through the trees. Amy exchanged worried glances with the others before she pushed the door open, the hinges protesting with a groan.

Inside, the cabin was dimly lit by the fading light filtering through the small windows. Dust motes danced in the air, and the smell of damp wood filled their senses. Mark sat hunched on the floor in a corner, surrounded by scattered papers and empty bottles, his back to them.

"Mark..." Amy breathed, her heart sinking at the sight of him.

He looked up slowly, his eyes red and hollow, devoid of the light they once held. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice hoarse and defeated.

"Mark, we were worried about you," Amy said gently, stepping closer. "You shouldn't be alone like this. We just want to help."

"I told you to stay away," he snapped, though the edge in his voice was weak, filled with exhaustion. "You shouldn't have come."