Manifest Darkness (Sequel to Darkness Within)

Chapter 12-Checking Up On You

Sean-

That night was like my own personal hell. Trapped alone with my own thoughts, nothing and no one to console or comfort me, or just to distract me.

I lay down in the bed, gripping the sheets, letting them go, gripping the sheets, letting go, gripping, letting go. Cierra had told me that I should find an object to squeeze, supposedly releasing the stress I had. I try for what seems like hours- nothing worked. Several times through the night, when Cierra's words came to mind, I saw a brief image of my hands wrapped around Mark's throat- stop. This isn't his fault.

After several hours without a hint of sleep, I was still laying in bed, mentally cursing myself for what I had done. I rub my face, groaning, and begin to unconsciously scratch at my wrist, where the scars were, a habit I had developed.

"I'm such an idiot." I hiss to myself. Suddenly, my self-pity session is interrupted when I hear footsteps walking down the hall, in the direction of my room. Quickly, I pull the blanket over my head, hiding. To my dismay, there's a gentle knock at my door a minute later, followed by Mark's soft voice.

"Hey, Sean? You in there?" he asks, and I roll my eyes at the absurdity, the stupidity of the question. Where else would I be?

"N-no, I'm sleeping." I call, digging the nail of my pointer finger into the soft flesh of my wrist.

"Yea, right." Mark mumbles. "Can I come in?" he asks, but I can see the doorknob already turning as he speaks.

"Well, I don't really have a choice, do I?" I mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

"No, not really." He muses jokingly, opening the door and walking in.

"Then what the hell was the point of asking?" I snap, clawing at my wrist under the covers.

"I dunno...I just thought it'd be polite."he mumbles, looking away sheepishly.

"Why are you here, Mark?" I ask, irritated.

"I-I just wanted to check up on you. Make sure you were okay and...stuff." he says, flashing me a small smile. To me, it looked forced.

"Well, I'm fine." I scowl, then sigh. He had come to see how I was doing, in the middle of the jight, when he could've been sleeping. There was no reason to take my anger out on him. "I'm sorry." I sigh. "Are you okay?"

His expression changes from sheepish and embarrassed to relieved almost instantly. "Yea, I'm alright." he says, taking a seat next to me on the bed. I edge away a bit. I'm not completely sure why, but something makes me not want to be close to him, physically or emotionally. Unfortunately, he notices immediately and makes up for the distance, scooting closer. "Sean? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I snarl, and it comes out harsher than I meant it to. He flinches, but puts a hand on my thigh, I move my knee away, and he clicks his tongue, clucking at me. "Tsk, tsk. Don't be that way, babe."

"D-don't call me that." I spit the words at him. "Leave me alone."

Mark rolls his eyes, looking to the side. "Whatever you want." he mumbles sarcastically, causing me to fume. What was wrong with him?

"What I want is for you to leave me alone!" I snap, practically shouting. I had no idea why I was so angry, but Mark was just pissing me off further. If this was his idea of 'checking up on me', then I was fine without it.

He smirks. "I'm just a bit confused, because just a few hours ago, you were practically begging me to fuck you."

This ticks me off further. My face was probably red as a cherry at this point. I stood from the bed, Mark copying my actions. "Leave." I say, my voice shaking with anger.

He crosses his arms over his chest, that stupid smirk still there. I wanted so badly to reach over and smack it off his stupid face. "No."

I shoot him a sour look. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under by now. "Fine." I spit, turning on my heel and walking out the door.

"Oh, come on, babe. Where you goin?" he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in tracks. What the hell is his problem? Is this his idea of a joke? Rejecting me and now doing... this?

My hand clenches in a fist. For the first time, I wanted to hurt Mark. I wanted to cause him pain, both physical and emotional. It was a bit unsettling, honestly. Mark was the violent one, when you looked at past incidents.

I wrench away from his touch, turning to face him. He seemed to flinch for a moment, something flashing in his eyes, but I couldn't quite place it. He seemed to notice my anger, and it causes him to smirk even more. Without thinking, I raise my fist and punch him in the jaw.

He puts a hand to his face, eyes wide with shock. "You son of a bitch!" He spits, hand covering most of his mouth. But from what I can see, the corner of his mouth is lifted upwards a bit, and that makes my rage boil over. I lift my fist again. How could he be so.. so stupid? He's practically asking for this. My breathing was heavy and ragged, I sounded more animal than human.

He lowers his hand, revealing that idiotic fucking grin! What is his problem? I can't tell if he's just incredibly thick, or actually insane.

I give him another punch, wanting to wipe that smile off his face. He cackles. "Is that all you've got?" he calls, and my mind goes blank with rage. I rush at him, shoving him into the wall. I could feel the strong, tense muscles and warm skin of his chest under my hands- stop, Sean! What the hell is wrong with you? Not the time!

I hear a noise come from his mouth- a laugh. He's laughing!

"That's right! More, more!" he says, laughing, eyes wild with insanity. What is he thinking? Is he insane? Yes, yes he is!

I have half a mind to get the hell out of that house and not look back, but the other part of me wants to beat the shit out of him. I smash my fist into his face, hitting him square in the nose, and it starts gushing blood down his face, adding to the crazed look. He stands there, grinning widely, blood all over his face, eyes gleaming with madness. And why is he still smiling?

He stares at me, breathing calm and steady, contrasting with his crazed look. Part of me is intimidated, but the other is a fuming ball of uncontrollable rage. Why is he acting like this? What had I done?

Mark-

What was I doing? What was he doing? I felt like I had no control over my actions, but at the same time, it felt like I really had planned this out, like I wanted this.

I grit my teeth, choking out the word "Stop." Sean looks at me, blue eyes wide, confused, scared. "M-Mark?"

Hands shaking, I step forward, wrapping my fingers around Sean's throat and pinning him to the wall. I don't want to do this... but I do!

His eyes widen even more, and his fingers claw at my hands. I want to say something, but it feels like I'm choking on my own words- it feels like I can't breathe. My grip tightens on his neck, and his eyes water. I hated every second of this, but at the same time, I loved it, and continued.

"M-Mark. Mark, stop!" he gasps. "I-I don't know what's g-going on, b-but you don't want this! This isn't what you want!"

Part of me listens to him. That part of me desperately tries to wrench my hands from his neck, but the other part wants this. The other part of me is happy- happy that he was dying. Then, I realized something-

I couldn't breathe. I was choking.

I stare at him, a black haze creeping into the edges of my field of vision. Desperately, his face turning blue, Sean lifts his knee and plants a sharp kick right in my soft spot, but it's not necessary. The lack of oxygen weakening me, I loose my hold on his neck and collapse to the floor, surrounded by darkness.