One Shot Book (Danti/Septiplier)

Purple And Blue Splotches

~ Septiplier One Shot ~

1223 Words

*Trigger Warning: Mentions Of Abuse And Rape*

Jack's POV:

Ring...Ring...Rinnnnggggg...

"C'mon, Mark! Pick up! Please!" I whispered through sniffles as I wiped tears from my eyes, my phone pressed to my ear.

I was currently sat in a small, cramped closet, on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. My bruised fingers clutched at my iPhone. It was dark, the screen to my phone the only thing allowing me to see the bruises that scattered my bare legs. The line went dead momentarily, my sobs and yelling from my apartment the only things breaking the silence.

"Hi, you've reached Mark Fischbach. I am unable to answer the phone right now, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks, bye," the phone mocked me with his voice.

It was somehow soothing to hear that deep, sweet voice once again. I haven't heard it in a while, he didn't like me talking to Mark, or anyone for that matter.

"Jack? Babe, please open the door," my boyfriend insisted in an orderly tone.

Sobs escaped my swollen lips. The more he spoke the more unsafe I felt. He was trying to seem caring, but I knew he just didn't want me to tell anyone. Usually, he'd take my phone away, and if anyone ever texted me or asked anything about me, he'd respond for me, telling them I'm busy and perfectly fine. I'd stolen my phone back before I ran into the closet to hide. I've never been 'fine', let alone 'perfectly fine', not since he started acting like this.

He gets angry a lot lately, it started out with just yelling and insults, then escalated to physical violence. He'd slap me, then he began pushing me until I'd hit the floor, eventually just punching me, covering me in purple and blue splotches. It wasn't always just that, he'd force me to have sex with him, even when I told him I wasn't ready or I didn't want it. His nice, sweet nature, in which I'd fallen for, soon diminished and I was left with his violent side.

You burned the food! You broke a vase! Fucking idiot! You're useless!

Nobody ever came by the house, and when they did, he threatened me and forced me to act fine. I covered the scars and bruises on my face with make-up, while wearing overly large sweaters and jeans to cover everything else. I'd act as a slave for him and his work friends, I'd smile and get them food and beers.

Beer.

It made him worse. He'd ask me to put on 'shows' for him and his work friends and treat me in a disgusting manner. I have no choice other than to comply. Let them feel me up while holding back tears as their filthy hands roamed my skin.

Today was different though, I'd pushed him too far, perhaps? I don't remember everything, it's all a blur now. He'd shoved me hard, I'd fallen and hit my head on the bed frame. Everything became fuzzy after that. He seemed surprised and tried to run after me, maybe he knew he'd done something a bit wrong after I'd started crying. Perhaps I have a concussion, everything is spinning now.

"Jack, I swear to God if you don't open this fucking door right now!"

A buzz escaped my cellphone and I jumped, almost dropping it before realizing Mark was calling me. I slid it open, answering it as soon as possible, my head aching at the sudden glow hitting my sensitive eyes.

"Jack?" Mark's voice rung out from the other end.

Attempting to make words through my endless sobs, I whimpered out, "Mark, I-I need y-you t-to pi-pick me u-up."

"What? What's wrong? Are you ok? Where are you?"

"Mark, come to my apartment, r-right n-now! P-please," tears trailed down my red cheeks.

"I'll be right there, okay? Just stay put," with that Mark hung up the phone.

"Who the fuck did you just call? Jack, get your ass out here right fucking now!" I winced as he began banging on the door, making my head pound in unison.

Shaking my head I allowed my phone to slip from my finger tips and onto the floor, tucking my face between my knees and wrapping my sweater-covered arms around myself. My body shook and ached as I continued to let out soft sobs.

Not too long after, I heard the doorbell ring. I couldn't make out words, but I recognized Mark's voice as my boyfriend opened the door. They seemed to be arguing. I'm surprised Mark came, after all, I haven't spoken to him in so long.

We were so close in high school and, honestly, I fell for him. He's always been so kind and caring towards me, but then I met Felix, my boyfriend, and we talked less and less. I was sad about it but I was too caught up with Felix. Of course I loved Felix, still do, but I was in love with Mark. It was different.

Braking from my thoughts, I heard the doorknob shaking as someone attempted to invade my space, "Jack? Are you in here?"

I stayed put, it was Mark.

"Can you open the door? Everything'a gonna be okay, I promise."

Unable to really move, still frozen in place, I lifted my hand up slightly, unlocking the door. The door clicked and soon light was pouring onto me. A figure stood beside me, and my eyes were met with hazel ones before I closed them again, feeling dizzy. Arms soon enclosed around me.

"Oh, Jack. I'm so sorry."

I shook my head but still refused to speak. None of it was his fault, nor was it Felix's. It was my fault. All of it. I'm the stupid one, the one who did everything wrong. I deserved to be hurt in every way. It's all my fault.

"I'm gonna bring you to the hospital, alright?"

His arms moved under me and lifted me up, making me whimper and wince as they grazed over large purple splotches. He adjusted his arms to stop hurting me and began to carry me somewhere. My eyes were still closed and nuzzled into my knees.

"H-he's not going to be h-appy," I finally spoke, voice cracking as I thought of what Felix might do to me now that Mark was taking me away.

"Jack, don't worry about him, okay? I called the police, everything is gonna be okay."

Felix was definitely going to be unhappy.

Sirens blared as we exited my apartment into the cold November night. I shivered and felt Mark pull me closer to him. He was so warm, I rested my head against him. Then, the warmth was gone, and he was whispering 'it'll be okay' while my back was soon placed onto and uncomfortable bed and people started shouting medical terms, checking my bruises. Suddenly, I felt exhausted, all the trauma of today caught up to me and my body gave up. The last thing I felt before I drifted off to sleep was a pair of plush, warm lips, pressing against my forehead.

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(A/N): i'm feeling kinda down today, but i love you guys:)