More Than a Monster - Vampire!Markiplier x Reader

Hallucinations

     Before Ethan could recover from his shock, Mark pulled him down onto his knees with his free hand and then covered his mouth. Ethan began to struggle, tears pricking at his eyes. Mark ignored his muffled pleas.

Someone yelled from the living room. Mark didn't care enough to figure out who. "Are you two playing nice in there?"

Ethan tried to shout: to get their attention somehow. His toes and fingers were starting to lose feeling and his vision swam. One coherent thought crossed his mind: Mark is going to kill me.

But he wouldn't, right? Mark was... Mark was his friend. But his head kept spinning. He fell limp, lacking the energy to keep fighting him. Just as he thought he couldn't hold on any longer and almost let the darkness take him, Mark pulled away.

"Oh my god..." Mark muttered to himself. How could he have been so stupid? He hadn't lost control in months: close to a year now. And his best friend no less...

Ethan groaned, only held up by Mark, slipping into unconsciousness.

Thank god. He was still alive. Mark brought his wrist to his lips and pierced his own flesh. He pressed the small bleeding punctures to Ethan's mouth. In his groggy state, the younger male tried to push his hand away, but he couldn't muster the strength. He had no choice but to accept the metallic liquid.

"I'm sorry," Mark choked. "I'm so sorry." The punctures in Ethan's neck began to heal quickly, and soon there was no trace of the incident, other than the blood staining both of their shirts.

"Shit..." Mark looked around. Ethan had passed out, and was now completely limp in Mark's arms. He lifted his friend and, with rejuvenated strength, carried him upstairs to the bedroom you shared.

He needed an alibi. Ethan was out cold, and Mark knew from experience that he would stay like that for a while. For the time being, Mark slipped his shirt off his shoulders and did the same with Ethan's, replacing it with a clean shirt from his own drawer. It was large on him, but it was better than the bloodstained one.

Mark laid Ethan gently on his bed and took the bloodied bandage off of his now healed hand. What was a good reason for Ethan to have passed out?

There was a knock at the door.

"Mark, are you in there?" You asked.

"Uh..." He glanced down at Ethan. "Yeah." he said lamely.

"Can I come in? They were looking for you downstairs. Have you seen Ethan?"

Fucking hell. Could this possibly get any worse? "I- he- yeah, just come in." Said Mark.

"What the hell happened to him?" You asked.

"I don't know. He passed out downstairs while we were washing dishes." He ran a hand through his hair.

"And your reaction was to take him to our room?" You raised an eyebrow as you touched his forehead.

"I guess I panicked." He said.

"Jesus, he's cold." Your brow furrowed. "Really cold. Maybe we should call an ambulance." You said as you pressed two fingers to the inside of his wrist. "His heart is beating really fast. I'm going to call an ambulance."

Fuck. Maybe he could pass it off as some strange, inexplicable accident. "I don't think you have to do that, (Y/n)."

"Mark, he passed out!" You sat on the bed by Ethan and shook him by the shoulder. "Ethan? Ethan, can you hear me?" You asked.

He groaned in response and his eyes fluttered open. "(Y/n)?" He said groggily. "Fuck, my head hurts... What happened?"

"Mark said you fainted. Are you okay?" You asked.

Ethan's eyes shot open as he caught sight of Mark's concerned face.

"N-no, you- Mark- I-" He stammered as he clambered to the other side of the bed, trying to get as much distance in between himself and his friend.

"Ethan, what are you doing? It's just Mark, he's not going to-"

"He hurt me! He- he-" Mixed emotions passed Ethan's face as he couldn't trust his own memory to give him the truth. That couldn't have happened. It was impossible.

"Ethan, you probably just had a bad dream." Mark said, then muttered. "Maybe you should call a doctor."

"No, I swear! (Y/n), you have to believe me, he-" Suddenly, Mark seized Ethan's shoulders in a flash, and the boy went stiff with fear.

"Ethan. Calm down. Everything's fine. You had a bad dream. I didn't do anything to you." Mark's back was to you, but you saw Ethan's eyes glaze over, then he relaxed and Mark released him. You pulled out your phone and opened Google.

"You're right." He sighed. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me." He said.

"I bet your blood sugar is low," You said, scrolling through symptoms on WebMD.

"Yeah... that's probably it." He said, taking a few deep breaths.

"I'll go grab something for him to eat." You said.

"Thanks, (Y/n)." Ethan said.

You left and Ethan and Mark exchanged nervous glances, each one for very different reasons. The younger let out an equally nervous laugh. "I had the weirdest dream." He said. The two sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Uh, it's really dumb." He said. "You almost killed me."

"Huh." Mark said casually.

The door opened, and you stepped in, holding a few cookies. You handed them to Ethan, then joined the two on the edge of the bed.

"Good excuse to get extra food off of us." You said sarcastically.

"Haha, real funny." Ethan rolled his eyes and ate his cookies.

"So, what happened?" You asked, looking between the two of them.

"I dunno." Ethan frowned. "The last thing I remember is drying a knife, and then I must have passed out, because after that, I went upstairs to the bathroom and bandaged my hand..." he turned his hand as he said that, inspecting where he could have sworn he'd been cut. "Then I came back down and you attacked me."

You laughed a little. "Are you high or something, Ethan?"

"Not unless Mark drugged the chicken and dumplings." He said.

Mark stood. "I'm going back downstairs. The others are probably worried."

You followed him out the door, but poked your head back in when Ethan didn't. He was just sitting there, staring at his palm.

"You coming, blueberry boy?" You asked.

"Um..." He closed his fist and looked out the window at the stars. "Yeah, I'm going to go to the bathroom first. I still feel a bit... dazed."

You nodded and left as Ethan sighed. Something didn't seem right, but the thought of Mark having attacked him and then bitten him was much crazier than him having hallucinated the whole thing.

He sighed and stumbled to the bathroom, tripping over his own feet once or twice in the process. The ground swam under his feet until he clutched the counter for balance.

He turned on the faucet and splashed the cool water on his face, going over the dream in his head. It felt so real. He shook himself and made a mental note to ask the doctor about low blood sugar problems next time he had an appointment. As he turned to shut the light off and leave, he noticed something on the other side of the counter.

Mark's first aid kit was open.