Suspicious Minds [Darkiplier/Markiplier x Reader]

Chapter Thirty Three: The End

A/N: Looks like we've finally made it to the end. I can't believe it, honestly. Buckle up, my dudes. This is one hell of a ride.
____________________________________

*Mark's POV*

Mark paced up and down the hallway, waiting for (Y/N) to return. He found himself having trouble preventing himself from going back down there to check on her. He knew how unstable Wilford was, not to mention that Wilford fucking shot his gun and missed. Maybe I shouldn't have left her.

"Worrying won't solve our problem, Mark." Dark called from the control room, he sat at the desk with his feet atop it. "She's a resilient girl; she's completely capable of handling Warfstache."

"What if you're wrong?" Mark retorted, walking towards Dark. The others in their cells had fallen oddly silent. Quiet was usually welcomed, but in this context, it was foreboding.

"She would call for us if need be." Dark said casually, flipping through his black book. "Besides, how often am I wrong?"

"Do I need to bring up Poughkeepsie?" Mark raised an eyebrow at Dark, in return Dark glared back at him.

"I regret taking you there." Dark grumbled, turning his attention back to his book. "It was one time."

Mark was about to reply with a witty comeback, but Dark hunched over in pain. He clawed at his chest and the other egos let out agonizing screams.

"Oh god." Mark said in a panicked voice, running over to Dark. "What do I do?"

"Go!" Dark screamed, flipping through his black book frantically. Mark complied and blipped back to (Y/N).

*(Y/N) POV*

Wilford fell to his knees, clutching his chest. The knife had punctured his heart; how he wasn't dead yet was beyond you. He didn't have much time; you had to act fast.

Anti smiled cruelly at you, offering a small wave, before he disappeared. A knife fell to the ground where Anti stood, the blade was black with pulsing green flecks.

Mark appeared next to you, his eyes fell on Wilford. Quickly, he scooped Wilford up in his arms, and they were gone. You teleported after him back in the hospital. You ran over to Dark in the control room when you saw him holding his chest in pain.

"Give me your hand." He commanded and you did it without question. He slipped a shiny black ring onto your dominant hand's ring finger. You felt a surge of energy go through you.

"What do we do?" You cried, your heart was beating a million miles per hour.

"Let The Doctor out." Dark forced his words out, he was sweating profusely. You didn't remember which cell you put him in, so you called for him.

"I'm here!" He cried, his voice was hoarse and weak. You ran over to his cell and quickly unlocked it. The Doc was in worse shape than Dark, his skin was pallid, his eyes glazed over. "Take me to him." He commanded, but almost collapsed as soon as he took another step. You wrapped your arm around his waist and guided him to Wilford and Mark.

Wilford's eyes were still open, he was laying in the middle of the hallway with Mark crouched next to him. Mark had ripped off the clothes on Wilford's upper body to reveal the stab wound. The hole was accompanied with green embers branching throughout his entire chest.