Inside // Septiplier

Chapter 13

"So what are we gonna do about yer leg?" His cerulean gaze had spied down upon the burly man's sacrifice once again. Guilt rushed in as he grew aware from the lack of assistance he could offer towards his agonized friend. Mark's own eyes inadvertently darted resulting with a cringe at the gruesome sight that lied before the two. "Maybe a bandaid?" The pain was present in his distressed tone despite his attempt to create a façade with humour. Jack sighed empathetically along with a subtle hint of frustration. "Mark, you didn't have to do that,"

"Jack it was my decision and you know I'm careless." Although taken aback, Mark was determined to cease Jack's dismay. He eyed his profile scanning the scrutinized gaze. His only desire was to see that gleaming smile and hear that childish giggle. How his own hot, chocolate melted, exploring those familiar, damaged pools, reminding him of the first thing he had fallen for. His eyes captivated him, the one thing that would never change. His skin would wrinkle, hair would fall, bones would weaken but his eyes would always be that luscious, ocean. The only water on Earth he would ever consider perfection. Mark loomed over Jack, remaining in his trance unaware of his involuntary action. Those waters swirled astonished by the sudden movement, yet the chocolate delved deeper.

An abrupt chill ran through them both. Mark crashed into the ground gripping his shattered limitation while Jack was stunned questioning Mark's motives. With gritted teeth he forced himself into the surface, dirt plastering itself with the aid of his salty reaction. He'd forgotten the feeling of crying. Wasn't it meant to be relieving or emotional? Tears of water singed a trail down his heated cheeks contributing to the present pain that currently ran throughout his trembling vessel.

"Pitiful."

Jack twitched remaining stationary however aware of the intruder while Mark continued pining. The familiar noise thrilled him, yet an envious gaze shot towards the disfigured limb. How he would've loved to be the cause behind it. The malice consumed him, adrenaline reinforcing his fatal intention. He ambled towards the defenceless target, injured and hopeless. No chance of escape. The glint of the blade reflected into Jack's vision, realisation hitting him as he witnessed the lethal utensil clutched in the assailant's right hand producing sharp, pale knuckles. Time stood still as Jack impulsively dashed towards the attacker, his only goal to protect his endangered companion. The intruder dressed with a smug grin, shot an enthralled gaze as he endured the delivered blow from Jack's panicked reaction. Jack spied his impact not upon his foe but on himself. His clenched fists wouldn't part. His entire being quaked. Dizziness befell his clouded thoughts. The trees barricaded him. A circular prison. Nausea overcame him as he dissolved into his surroundings. The familiar burning sensation erupted as he staggered to soften his fall. In his peripheral vision he spied his recovered veins corrupted by the slithering oil instigating its domination over the frail man. Lethargy and languidness was all he could feel causing the detatchment from reality as his ears filled with the echo of that seductive tone. Drained entirely of his energy he was left as the lone audience member of his performance. That baritone voice. It couldn't be. He fought against his drooping eyelids, bent on seeing that Mark would be unharmed, but to no avail. As the vast land of crowded trees shut in, the blackness began to envelop his vision.

"You're mine now."

He stared longingly at the limp body satisfying his ravenous cravings. The sight enticed him as his mind began to wander recreating scenarios that would some come into play. The blood would overtake him and he'd be back in the voracious man's grasp obtaining his succulent meal. This time he wouldn't intrude. Mark's presence had been absent in the thirsty captor's mind as he dived into his loathing towards his ex – counterpart. Anti.

Dark raised himself keeping his composure, deliberately protruding his blades as an indication to avoid. His shoulders stooped down as he allowed an exhale to disrupt the silence that had filled the still environment. Obtaining this form hadn't been a slice of cake. If anything it was like trying to transport a piece of bread across a typical kitchen. Yet, his experimentation had been a success although not sufficient enough for his needs. For now he'd remain in his artificial construction soon to replace that. He glared at the rubber coating beginning his analysis of the chosen material that cocooned his amorphous existence. Mark and Jack's escape, although undesired, allowed himself time to craft a seemingly identical figure based off of the afflicted man who resided beside Dark. Lacking the physique of a solid entity had caused inefficiency to his project which increased Dark's irritation, thus, making him extremely dangerous. The ingredients he needed now lay before him once again he'd have them in his clutches. However this time, he'd ensure their inevitable fate, determined to push aside his hesitation concerning his precious leprechaun. Mark's affection must've affected his own mentality; this was the one thing Dark was not prepared for. The idea of Jack being a weakness for Dark frightened the confident demon. The thought was preposterous, and so Dark continued, eliminating the possibility of interruption from an insignificant Irish male.

With a clenched fist Dark continued his initiation. His target already injured served as an advantage for his anticipated action. Mark clutched his leg too preoccupied to notice the indentation digging into his crimson, coated hands increasing the amount of agony he tried to withstand. Dark observed silently eyeing the slanted position of his right, broken limb. The idea of pushing against the visible bone excited Dark, the cries that Mark would deliver would've been heavenly. Mark's calf had cracked open, displaying his snapped tibia. His leg dangled simply held by the attached chunk of skin that Dark craved to slice. Maybe he'd inflict a mirrored injury upon his left limb, all chance of movement destroyed. This was too easy. Dark regained himself aware of the patience he needed. He'd have to bandage it in order to transport both men back to his lair. He could awaken Jack however the peaceful expression emitting from the Irish man's slumber soothed him. Dark's tolerance lowered as Mark continued his incessant bawling.

"He's so fucking pathetic." Sauntering over towards the trampled fire, Dark placed his palm over Mark. He pressed bitterly against the jaw ceasing the noise however the fluid continued. "God, why do I have to associate myself with you." Dark snarled in disgust, the sight of his reflection executing this childish act, it was appalling. A sharp twinge coursed through Dark's covering. Mark remained in agony but his retaliation had pursued. As his canines dug in the unusual taste of plastic filled his tastebuds, yet he continued despite the revolting result. Dark lashed out in a way Mark had never seen before, swiping the refined blade upon Mark's skin accentuated the current burns that befell his profile. Blood spun wildly in his furious glare as he aimed his tool towards Mark's chest. A single plunge and then silence would follow. Instead Dark grinned deviously inclined to direct his weapon through the opened wound.

"Don't fuck with me Mark."

As Mark's chestnut circles trembled in realisation of Dark's intention the blade had drilled through the bone marrow, forcing its way through supported by Dark's build. The blood – curdling scream exploded from Mark as he attempted to disconnect himself from his body. Writhing in pain like a mere worm pleased Dark, he stared absorbed in his entertainment, nevertheless, he'd execute his project even with a few minor interruptions like this. Fun never hurt. Twisting the sharpened blade shattered the decimated calcification. Mark's pupils dilated as his ear-piercing screeches became inaudible. He could feel the fresh stream of gore that rushed down into the stained blades of grass. The wavering had ceased erasing all signs of peace or tranquillity. Jack and Mark's embrace may as well have been a dream. A sickly smirk crept along Dark's face as he continued completely casing his bloodied weapon into the remnants of the broken bone. Deciding to leave it in place, Dark removed his grip gazing at his hands covered with the thickened, liquid layer beginning to solidify. A small chuckle was all he delivered as Mark's sobs grew fainter. The familiar cries filled him with ecstasy as he relived the moments of torture he would soon enact upon Mark once again. The amount of blood loss would soon result in Mark's forceful slumber and then Dark could finally start his project. For he knew replacing Mark would be easy.