The Darkness Taking Over: Book 2

Chapter 30

Dark's POV

I see the semi blurry picture on Mark's phone. He must've taken this by accident. But his eyes aren't their usual brown. They're like mine, black with a glowing red iris. Is this why he spazzed out? I go over and pull his lids open, but his eyes are normal. I send the picture to my phone and delete the one on his before setting it down again. I put my phone in my pocket and glance at Google before leaving. Mark can figure that out later. Right now, he needs to rest and he doesn't need hell to rise. For now at least. I text Anti about it; apparently he's having the same issue with Jack. But on the bright side, Jack wants to kill Mark. It's not good that Mark or Jack dies, but me and Anti just want it for the fight. We'll handle it if they get close to killing each other.
      "This is gonna be fun," I mutter to myself. Anti said that he's gonna bring Jack over in a week. He's gonna let Jack finish up some things, and then it's back over here. My last words that ended the conversation was, "This is gonna be one Hell of a show, Anti."

Mark's POV

My eyes flutter open, immediately closing when God's super high powered light shows upon my eyes, making me blind. All feeling comes back to my body, the back of my head blowing up like a nuke full of pain.
      "Gah!" I say, my hands balling up fistfuls of bed sheet. "Son of a... FUCK!"  Google looks up at me, fixing to get up before realizing that I'm not having a heart attack. After the pain ceases a little, I decide to ask the question that's been bugging me. "Google. What the fuck happened?"
      "You had some sort of spasm," Google says. "I am unknown as to what caused it and same is for Dark." Dark not knowing something for once? Is he lying? Reading my facial expression, Google adds, "No, I'm not lying to you. I'm telling you the facts." I relax myself, too tired and out of energy to debate. "Is there anything you'd like for breakfast?"
      "Yes, just make eggs and bacon with a hash brown," I reply. "But how long have I been out?"
      "You have been asleep only for the rest of the night," Google answers. "You have not slept past one day. I shall now go and make you your breakfast. Don't do anything a fucktard like you would do." I don't even know if that makes sense. If it's something I would do then wouldn't I do it. Ugh, I'm done, my head hurts. In a few minutes, Google comes back up with my breakfast. He hands me a fork and I start eating. Google is a friggin' spectacular cook. I eat my eggs, savoring every bite. He even put the right amount of salt and pepper on it. I eat the bacon and finish off with the hash brown. Now that was a good breakfast.
      After a little while, I just go flipping through some pictures. Ya know, just deleting some retarded or blurry photos. I deleted one by accident. A really good one too.
      "Dammit," I curse out loud. I then remember and go to the file that's labeled "recently deleted". I select it and press the "recover" button. But hey, while I'm here, I might has well make sure I didn't delete any good ones by accident but didn't catch it. So I scroll through and recover some. But I find one that makes me sick to my stomach. It's a blurry one of me, or is it Dark? The sclera pitch black and the my usual brown iris bright red to match the red pupil. I recover to examine it further, but right now. I need to gather all of this, because this is all sloshing around in my head.
      "Is there a problem, Mark?" Google asks me, probably seeing the concern on my face. I shake my head, no. I set my phone down screen first and run my fingers through my hair and lay back.
      'Is that really me?' I thought to myself. 'It seriously didn't look like me. But did that thing make that happen?'
      "What thing?" Dark asks me, his mouth right next to my ear. I look at him and jump with a yell. "Hm?"
      "Gah!" I scream. "Dark! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
      "A lot of things, Mark," Dark replies now backing away a little, his black and red eyes staring me down. "Now, what were you saying?"
      "Huh?" I ask. "It was nothing. Just thinking to myself. It was just some dream I had." Dark doesn't really seem to believe me, but he doesn't ask anymore questions either.
      "Darkiplier," Google says. "If you would refrain from doing that, that would be great. Extreme surprise or stress like that could cause something major." Dark glares at Google a little longer, but says nothing. He looks back at me one last time before turning into a black phantom and jumping through the floor and back from where he came from.
      "Show off," I mutter, still looking at the spot on the floor where he went through. Anyway. Back to the picture, how did this end up here? I know I didn't delete it. This is my first time seeing it! There's only one other option: someone tampered with it. It wasn't me, and Google doesn't know. The last person I can think of who knows my passcode is Dark. "Google, did you see Dark do anything with my phone?"
      "Indeed," Google says.
      "Did you see what he did on it?"
      "No."
      "Do you even know or have an idea as to what he did on it?"
      "No."  Well, that wasn't much help.
      "Did you get to see my eyes? Were they different?"
      "No, for I didn't see nor notice whether they did or not. Was I supposed to look out for something?"
      "No. I was just curious. Thanks." Ok, so Google doesn't know. Question is: How am I going to get Dark to spill out the answer? Obviously, as far as he knows, I have no idea about my eyes changing. The first thing he'll ask when I ask is how I know. He'll have a whole damn fit about it, for sure. I text Jack about it, but I don't expect him to answer since he's probably asleep, but he reads it and answers. He send this: 🔪☠⚰= you. Is this shit getting to him too? "Google, what do you think this means?"
       "To me, it appears that you are equivalent to a knife, cross bones, and a coffin," Google answers while looking at the message. I roll my eyes. Why must a robot give literal answers?
       "Does that mean that he wants to kill me?" I ask, now worried. Does Jack want to actually kill me?
       "That's a possibility," Jack says. "That appears to be it, yes." I nod and Google goes back and sits in a chair, laying his hands flat on his legs, one hand for each leg.

Mark: are you ok Jack?
Jack: I'm going to kill you Mark

I leave it at that, tears stinging my eyes. I'm such a baby, but do you have any idea how scary and heartbreaking it is for your best friend to say that to you? I'm scared and I'm confused. My emotions are getting the best of me. I don't know what to do. Jack truly wants to kill me and it's all because of that fucking septic goo that Anti did! From being sad and hopeless, to burning up, my blood boiling like the lava from a volcano. 'I know it's Anti's fault, but Jack is on my list. If Jack comes at me, then so be it. I'll kill him before he can even start running. In fact, I should kill him first.'
      'Mark! What the fuck has gotten into you?!' Wilford says hysterically in the back of my head. 'Jacks your best friend! You know that it's Anti you should be mad at, not Jack! Jack literally can't do anything about feeling like that. It's Anti you should be pissed at.'
      "Shut up, just shut up!" I say harshly. "I can't think of a way to kill him with you telling me all of this bullshit! It's him I want to kill and there isn't anything you can do to change that!"
       "Are you alright, Mark?" Google asks me. I turn to him slowly.

Jack's and Mark's POV

"Yea, I'm fine," I say. "I only have to unfinished business to end. I need to see him. He's gonna die... I want him dead..."