YouTuber OneShots

A Bite of My Heart

"What are you waiting for?" He spat at his captor, venom spiking his words. The few words he was able to utter had to be powerful ones. He wasn't afraid. He couldn't be. His strength was sapped by the dreariness of the cell he'd been enclosed in. Its concrete walls seeming to shrink even more every day. The concrete floor was no less kind than it had been the day before. A small light hung dauntingly over his head. It hadn't flickered on since the first day he arrived. Metal bars made up the wall that looked out over the living room he'd grown accustomed to watching every day.

His captor, a frightening, well-dressed man with dark hair and silver eyes hardly ever came to visit anymore. He'd been in control so long that he was too busy to see the prisoner. Now, while all the guests were away and the prisoner's girlfriend slept, he was finally able to toy with his prisoner. The prisoner pulled himself to his feet, wiping the drool from the corner of his lips, and stormed over to the bars. His wrists rattled as he brought his hands up to grip the bars for support. Thick, metal constraints had been fastened to his wrists, just loose enough to jingle tediously whenever he moved. His ankles were restrained by similar bonds too.

"You're afraid you won't get out alive? Good. That's very good. You're a smart man, Mark. I wouldn't have thought you had the brains to remember your instincts." The captor jeered at him, leaning closer to the bars. Both men were identical and yet the captor looked much larger and stronger than Mark who looked frail and wounded. His expression, however, glowed with ferocity at the thought of being talked down to.

"I'm not afraid. I'm tired. You're right, I am smart. Go ahead and kill me. See how far it gets you. We coexist. You only get attention because of me. If I go, you're hated and eliminated. But please, If you're sick of feeding me and keeping me alive then end it. Put an end to the Markiplier. Go on, Dark. I don't think you will." Mark snapped, trying to get under his skin. He knew Dark was smart enough to keep him alive but that didn't stop him from challenging him every chance he got. He wanted to frustrate Dark. To break his concentration.

There had been so many evenings that Mark had to sit, invisible to the rest of the world, and watch as Dark cuddled his girlfriend on the couch before him. All the screaming in the world and she still pecked Dark's cheek sweetly every morning as he made her breakfast. Mark always caught Dark's sharp antagonizing grin when she turned her back. Mark would've given anything to break free and take back his adorable alien princess. His body was too weak. He'd fought so hard to get free and ended up injuring himself before he could even get close to freedom. His bones ached, his muscles were sore, his lungs felt contracted. He was dying slowly. Dark had realized it too and tried to give him more food. Mark refused it more often than he knew he should have. He was trying to prove a point to Dark though.

"Even on the brink of death, you're still an egotistical smart-ass. You think I'm stupid enough to get rid of you just yet? No... I came to show you something. You suffer and I grow stronger but you've run dry lately. Grown accustomed to your new life yet?" Dark suddenly disappeared from the living room, a plume of Burgundy smoke rising from the point where he stood a moment ago. It flooded into Mark's cell, making him cough at its acrid odor. He backed into the corner of his cell, rubbing his eyes.

Mark hears bare footsteps running along the hardwood floor of his apartment. They're light and quick as if to not be caught by someone. The smoke faded and a familiar blonde haired woman with a worried expression runs up to the cell Mark stands in. Disbelief, astonishment, and joy all wash over Mark as he takes her hand in a panic, reaching to the limits of his chains to be closer to her. "Amy. Oh god, Amy. Can you see me? Then you know about Dark? And you're okay? Are you hurt? Amy?"

She didn't answer him and instead took a step back, scanning the bars for a way to break them. She kept glancing over her shoulder, back towards their bedroom. Her eyes finally found a small groove in between the wall and the bars. Her fingers traced over it as she thought over ways to pry them apart. Mark caught on and began searching as well. He was still curious as to why she wouldn't answer. He called her name again and she shushed him, panicked, as she listened for something Mark couldn't seem to hear. She swore under her breath and ran to the couch, dropping to her stomach and sliding under. Her arm reached up to the blanket on the couch and she draped it over where she hid.

Dark came storming out of their bedroom, fury etched into his features clearly. Mark played stupid, his eyes falling to his feet so as to not give away Amy's hiding spot. He listened quietly for Amy, his nostrils flaring as if he were trying to sniff her out the way a police dog would. He glanced over at Mark briefly, a smug smirk on his lips. Dark quickly yanked the blanket upward and tossed it across the room. Amy's breath caught in her throat as Dark grabbed her wrist and yanked her out. She yelped, rubbing her shoulder as she backed away from Dark. Maybe she still had time to run and throw something to Mark to help him escape. Her eye caught on a collapsible music stand that Mark had put up a little while ago when he'd stopped working on guitar so much. She could throw the box into the cell and Mark could keep it out of reach while she ran. Hopefully, Mark would get free and follow.

Just as she began to sprint towards the shelf it was on, a force yanked her backward painfully. Dark pulls her closer to him, a firm grasp of her hair. She yanks away, gritting her teeth as she feels her hair tear in his unwavering grasp. "Let. Me. Go." She barks, slamming her fist into his chest. He inhales sharply, weakening his grip slightly. It's just barely enough for her to get free and grab the stand box. She slides it along the floor to the cell. Mark grabs it and tears open the box. He needs to get out to help her. With the long metal rod of the stand in hand, he finds the notch she'd pointed out and began to use the stand as if it were a crowbar. He heaved it back and forth, loosening the hinges enough for him to yank it inwards.

Mark looks up to see Amy squirming in Dark's grasp as he holds a knife to her side. Mark froze, one foot outside of the cell. His presence made Dark's figure split off into small fragments that wavered like VHS glitches. "I said I had something to show you. Here she is. Here it is." He jerked his wrist to the side, sending the knife gliding through her silk night shirt and into her side. She screamed out as Dark disappeared from the room, leaving her to fall backward onto the couch.

Blood soaked the gray couch cushions, turning it black as Mark scrambled over to her. She gasped in pain, her hand slick with blood from holding her side. Mark slid his hand over hers, applying more pressure as he grabbed her phone off the coffee table. He dialed the closest hospital to have an ambulance dispatched as soon as they could. Amy leaned back into the couch, her head up, eyes shut to block out the pain.

"An ambulance is coming," Mark said weakly. He paused, staring at her guiltily. "You saved my life. This wouldn't have happened if I could've just been more careful with Dark. But thank you. I don't know how much longer I would've survived in there."

She nodded, turning her head to stare at him now. "I'd known for a while that that wasn't you. I couldn't find you, though. So when I heard Dark sneaking around tonight I took the chance to find you. Guess I got lucky?" She laughed sourly, glancing down at her side.

"Everything will be alright. We'll get you patched up soon enough. Then we'll find Dark and we'll repay the favor. Sound good?"

"Only if I'm the one to put his sorry self out of his misery."