Whispers in the Dark

An Interesting Interview

The morning seemed to go quickly, especially with Mark and Sean around as well as the ever bubbly Chica. It eventually got to the point that the two decided that all three of us humans would head off to the nearest mall. Again, we travelled in Mark's van and again they tried to best to sing whatever song came out from one of their phones, this time it was Mark's.

The mall reminded me of the shopping centres in England, just a lot more crowded and a lot noisier. All the racket made me wince but neither of my companions noticed as they dragged me from shop to shop. The most notable store was a costume store and the boys being their amazing selves decided that it was time to mess around and try the various masks and costume pieces that the store had to offer. I was pretty sure that I had filled up my phone with nothing but funny pictures of the boys.

Things slowed down when Sean's stomach, yet again, started to growl so we decided to stop at a random cafe that wasn't full of people and used the time to relax and go through all the pictures, the boys posting some of the pictures online for their fans to see. I was slowly scrolling through my Twitter feed before I noticed that someone had been trying to text me. Probably Gracie. I thought as I tapped my messages app and my thought was confirmed once I noticed the name.

Nothing of interest really happened in the text but the feeling of being watched came back once again. My eyes narrowed slightly as I gazed around, trying to spot if someone was indeed watching me. And that's when I noticed him, a man, in a corner of the cafe closest to the door, dressed in pastels. The pastel blur that occurred shortly before I felt as if I was being watched last night, could that of been him? I made a small excuse to the boys and left my seat, beginning to make my way over to him only for him to slip out the door and run. A small agitated growl left my throat as I slipped out the door and proceeded to run after the pastel man.

"Wait! I just want to talk to you!" I cried out to the man as he made a turn into a seemingly abandoned building. A gulp left my throat as I looked up at the building. If I wanted answers as to why he's been following me then I need to go in. Another gulp sounded out as I slowly pushed one of the doors open, the heavy door creaking as it went. "Oh jeez..." I muttered out as I made my way inside.

The building was dark and dust filled to the point it made it difficult to breathe, but I needed to keep going. The pastel man was in here and I was going to get my answers. Sean wasn't the only stubborn person in my group of friends. I seemed to wander through the building for almost ten minutes before I realised I was passing through the same doors again and again. What the shit?! I thought as I tried to walk through the door that was just behind me only to end up back into the same hallway I had just tried to leave. A growl sounded out of my throat as I ran down the hallway, bursting through one of the many doors that littered it.

My movements quickly came to a halt as I burst into what seemed to be the set of a low budget TV show. A small stage held two chairs and the backdrop was rather basic with just a simple set of curtains. Cameras and lights were scattered around the outer edges of the stage to catch and light the various angles that would be cut together in post-production. As I made my way over to the stage, the pastel man appeared at the other end as if he was waiting for a cue to hop onto the stage.

He was wearing a yellow shirt with a white collar, the colours broken up by the pink bowtie and suspenders he wore. To match the pastel theme, his trousers were a light brown. His look was so signature to him, and I was mad at myself that it took me seeing his bright pink moustache to realise who exactly had been following me - not that I really could believe it.

Wilford Warfstache, one of Mark's eldest alter egos, and somewhat of an icon for the channel. I really had to be careful about what I said to him. "Mr Warfstache?" I called out only for him to shush me in a rather over the top manner, something to be expected from the overly eccentric man. A moment of silence went by before a voice sounded out, introducing the show and it's host.