Rustling in The Dark (Darkiplier X Jacksepticeye X Markiplier X Antisepticeye)

Who's 'He'

Anti's POV:

The day was boring and we didn't really do much of anything. Jack had gone in his room about three hours ago, his light was still on and there was music playing on the radio. Around two o'clock I decided to go find my own bed and fall asleep as well.

I actually don't sleep in the house, I sleep in a cabin about 25 meters away. I stood up and told Dark that I was going to go to bed. He nodded with an "Okay," and I headed towards the door, put my jacket on, and opened the door, walking into the forest surrounding the building.

I closed the door and shivered, grabbing my triceps at an attempt to keep myself warm. "Well," I said, "Jack ain't here to carry me back to the house, so better get going." I turned and walked around a corner of the house, walking towards my small room cast off just in the distance.

The whistle of a car in the distance could be heard in the silence of the leaves. The wind was fierce but the leaves almost didn't make a sound. As the car passed on the highway the leaves up ahead blew back into the forest. The sound of the leaves stirring just off in the distance was peaceful. As I neared the small room I could hear Jack laughing and speaking. I turned around, the bright yellow-white light casting him as just a shadow. He was sitting with his legs crossed on the edge of the bed staring up at the ceiling. His lips moved as he fidgeted with his fingers, the soft, low growl of his voice vibrating the window just a few feet away from him.

I turned back around and continued my slow walk as Jack had just been talking to himself. The cold air brushed my face, turning my cheeks and nose red. As I neared the door I pulled my keys out of my warm pocket. I took at step up to the door and unlocked it as my teeth chattered. I pulled the door open and flicked the light switch on, digging my keys out of the door. I shut the door, it was warm while I looked around the room. The broken computer in the corner made a soft humming noise. An open nightstand sat next to my unmade bed. The desk in the corner, at the end of the bed had a lamp on, shining light onto a sketch of a girl.

The girl had no color, I held a hatred for coloring sketches. She had pigtail french braids that broke off into regular braids that drooped onto her shoulders. She was fairly skinny with a white shirt that cut off just below her sternum. The sleeves were laced with white skulls that turned into a half glove that sat between her thumb and forefinger. She had a bellybutton piercing and high waisted skinny jeans. The white, short high heels, zipped up, crossed over each other as she crossed one leg over the other, her shoulders relaxed and her arms dangling just below her hips.

My other sketches sat up on my walls resembling things like dragons, elves, detailed piercing designs, tattoos, a patch of clovers, and many more that lie inside my sketch book. I drew so much that my right forearm and permanent tint of gray on it. I stepped on my light blue and white stripped rug and walked over to the mess of led on the paper. Pulling the wooden chair out from the desk and sitting down, I took my dull pencil in my hand and began adding more jewelry to the girl sprawled out on the paper. I began with a few small lines for the necklace that had a skull at the end of it. I drew a choker and some bracelets and more piercings. Another thing that I added, that I saw fit, was a cigarette in her right hand with smoke emitting from the end.

I found myself getting tired and leaning back in the chair yawning. I took one last look at the drawing and stood up to turn off the main light. I always left the lamp to my drawings on in case I get a new idea while laying in bed. Rubbing my eyes, I groggily walked over to the bed and laid down. I covered myself and stared up at the drawing, that I adored most, that I had pinned up on the ceiling. The sketch was a picture of a railroad that seemed to continue on and on without stopping, symbolizing  that your journey is never over unless you force it to stop. I turned over on my left side, so that I was facing into my room, and closed my eyes to fall asleep.