Tower - A Darkiplier x JackSepticEye FanFiction

Insanity

"Fuck."

It was all I could mutter as tears streaked my face. I was all alone in an alley way during the middle of the day, yet never has it seemed so dark.

I didn't mean it. I never do. I always know what I'm doing when I'm doing it, but I can never stop. I know all too well the morbid thoughts running through my head, but I never push them away. I somehow can't.

I grit my teeth at the nagging thoughts. "I'm not bad!" I slam my fist into the brick wall behind me.

"I didn't mean it," my hands stay balled up into fists as the anger and depression surge through me. "It wasn't even me..."

My voice stayed low as I muttered things to myself, trying to convince myself that I wasn't really bad.

But I knew I really wasn't. Anger wasn't something I'd ever advocate. There is something seriously wrong with me. The voice in my head isn't my own.

It would push me to do outlandish things that regular ole' Mark wouldn't do. And when I'd refuse...

Well, that's just it. I'm not allowed to refuse.

I never wanted to cover my body with all these tattoos, especially all in one session. When I had regained my consciousness the next day, my body was sore and bloodied from my neck to my feet.

I also never wanted to dye my hair all these wacky colors. I didn't like the way it looked when I saw it on others, but this thing in my head thought otherwise I suppose.

Most importantly, I would never be violent towards anyone unless it's for self defense. Now, I can't control the urges that push me to be violent. But it's never gone this far.

Thank god I don't remember what I did in between when I passed out and woke up, but what I witnessed when I woke up wasn't something I ever wanted to see or be responsible for.

Last night the thing in my head was relentless with it's thoughts. I had gotten sick of it, I couldn't get any sleep. I headed to a local bar to drink away the thoughts and even my consciousness. I didn't really think about the consequences, which I really should've.

I had unknowingly taken a seat next to a real jerk, who was insulting my appearance and my choice of alcohol, calling me a 'lightweight pussy'. I refused to fight back, which resulted in my blackout. I couldn't control my body at all. I was alone with my own thoughts in my head.

I honestly hoped that I wouldn't wake up after that, that the man had enough strength to take it on. I somehow knew that if I didn't end up dead tonight...

When my vision came back to me nauseatingly quick, I was towering over the mans dead body.

I ran so fast. I didn't want to be associated with murder. Warm-hearted Mark, the killer.

Ever since the event yesterday, I've been sitting here, crying, pushing the monster inside me away.

Somewhere in between the demon inside me plotting murder and me plotting suicide, a man and a woman had come to see what insanity I had been incoherently muttering.

"Ehm," the man clears his throat a few feet away to grab my attention. The woman stands behind him a bit further away, most likely because of my intimidating appearance and the fact that I probably look crazy right now.

"Sir, are you okay?" The innocence in the evidently Irish man was very clear. Almost childlike.

I kept my head down, trying not to look at them. "I'm fine," the words slip off my tongue so easily, yet they're so untrue.

"Are you sure? Do you need any help?" God this kid is going to get killed one day if he does this to everyone he sees crying in the street that look like me.

I finally look up at the two. "Look, I'm fine. Got it?" I try to write them off. I don't want to be rude to them, but I don't want them getting involved with my nonsense.

He slowly walks up to me like I'm a wild animal, cowering away from him, and sets some money in front of me. "Here, you might need it."

"You don't have to give me any money. I'm fine." I say to the man who I now realized has a green tuff of hair on top his head, probably supporting his Irish culture in a way.

He gives me a sad smile, "You're crying in an alley..." he awkwardly pats my shoulder then stands up. "I hope things start getting better for you," he puts his hands in his pockets.

My eyes start to tear up, but I keep them down, and return his sad smile. "I'm Mark." I tell him without knowing what else to say.

"Sean," he replies, "and that's my girlfriend, Signe." She waves to me from where she stands, probably still too nervous to approach me.

He moves over to her and they hold hands and he gives me a wave before walking away.

I picked up the money and put it in my pocket, not letting it go to waste.

The voice had left without me realizing it when I had been talking to Sean. But, of course, it had to come back. It was a low mumbling in my head that continued for a few minutes before it spoke up loudly.

I don't like to share...

~Authors Note~ I was able to get my IPad back and correct my mistakes. Again, sorry for my slow updating. This is more of a leisure for me than a task. Nikki Out Homie Slices ✌🏻️