Demons - A Darkiplier Fanfiction

Demons

Please read the Author Note at the end after reading. Thanks.

 XXXXXXXX

Darkness.

Its a funny thing. It is something that is a part of us all. Something that makes us all human. But it is something else. It's power. Raw power. Power without guidance.

Some say knowledge is power. And it is power. But not all knowledge is good. One can get to much knowledge. They can obsess.

The funny part is obsession can come from not knowing. From not getting enough detail. From wanting to know everything. In turn, Obsession if left unchecked can be dangerous. Deadly. It can lead to wanting. To needing. To having. It can lead to a power no one should have. A power that just should not exist. A darkness that shouldn't exist.

A darkness that did exist.

A darkness that was in hovering behind the shoulder of Mark Fischbach's captor.

It was a black cloud at this point, no shape. It almost looked dusty, like soot – but it also appeared, in the right light, to have the consistency of water. From within where it's head would be if it was more than a shadow, two red glowing orbs could be seen.

The 'eyes' seemed to exude a dark hate filled aura. It dug down deep into the YouTubers gut.

However, while it was definitely the creepiest thing in the room, the scariest was the girl in front of him. She had seemed normal. Pale brown hair, straightened to perfection, cascading over a white Aero shirt. She wore simple pearl studs, and about a million bracelets. She seemed like the kind of person who should be at the mall shopping in Claire's. Her demeanor was that of an awkward teenager, and she only appeared to be fifteen.

She shuffled her feet awkwardly when she had first entered the room, carrying a glass of water. Her voice was nice too. Innocent. "H-hi Mark.." She had squeaked. Mark was tugging at the binds holding him to a folding chair, and when he saw her, nothing came to mind as to how or why any of this was happening. "I brought you some water.. thought you might be thirsty.. or something." She walked over and stopped, shaking her head. "Right. Your arms are tied. And your mouth. Um.. don't scream okay? I don't want to drug you again. Please?" She smiled innocently, her eyes genuinely sorry.

Drugged. That's right. He had been drugged. He remembered taking that sip of water. She must have poisoned the rim of his drinking glasses. Immediately after he had heard a thump, and was trying to ... stand? The world had suddenly been on it's side. Then twisting, then black. He had woken up in this room, which was pretty well lit, but bland. There was a bed on one edge of the room, far out of reach, and a sink in the other corner.

But the look he gave her when she told him not to scream wasn't begging for freedom, or saying he would do as she had said. It was one of complete shock. A girl. A fifteen year old. Had kidnapped him. Mark Fischbach. Markiplier.

Immediately he thought he was dreaming, but the gritty taste of the sock in his mouth and the pain from the ropes was just to much for him. It was real. And terrifying.

He watched her from the corner of his eye, fear's cold claws gripping tight on his heart. Why was he scared of a girl? She was stuttering for god's sake! Mark knew, though, that she was more she seemed. She had somehow kidnapped him. She had drugged him. She had to be more than meets the eye.

Removing the sock, the girl slowly backed away, retrieving the glass from where she had set it on the floor.

"How do I know that's not poisoned as well?" Mark asked, his voice horse. Damn, did he want that water. But - safety first.