Markiplier Ego Oneshots

Room of Angel- Actor?Mark & Dark

Author's note: This is going to be an angsty one. I'm sorry, but one of them is dying. Lot of references to WKM and mild Markicest depending on how you look at it. Kind of a songfic near the end of a cover of "Room of Angel" by Caleb Hyles. 

Warnings: blood, knives, stabbing, mild cursing, major character death, murder, angst

"Dark, stop this! It's all in the past now. Don't you see how much I've- no, we've changed?" Mark pleads, hands up in surrender as Dark's knife flashes in front of him.

"Your pleas mean nothing to me. Do you really think I can forgive you for what you've done to us?" Dark sneers, pointing his knife threateningly towards his creator as he advances forwards. His red and blue aura flickered madly as static and high pitch ringing filled the room. "The only reason I've changed is because of you. You are the reason why I am like this. The reason why I was ever created was purely for revenge. You see yourself as all high and mighty, beloved and adored by fans, but they can't see the monster you really are!"

"Dark, I never wanted to hurt you or them. I always thought of you as a brother, maybe even more than that. And I regret everything I've done to Celine, Damien, and William. They were my friends too, and a part of me still mourns for them." Mark pauses, trying not to stare at the knife pointed at him as he slowly backed away.

"For a long time, I thought we brothers too. We were cut from the same cloth, wore the same face. We were two sides of the same mirror. You were, after all, the one that semi-created me. But I would give that all back for a chance to go back and start over," Dark says mournfully, his grip on the knife slowly loosening. 

"I would too..." Mark replies with regret. He laughs half-heartedly. "We are both so broken. I mean, we're talking about events that happened hundreds of years ago, for fuck's sake! I know that what I did was wrong. And I've suffered for it. But we can't go back into time and fix my mistakes. We just have to live with it. I moved on- why haven't you?"

"Because every time I look into the mirror I see Damien, Celine, the DA. Every time I see Wilford, I see the Colonel. I don't want to live with your mistakes. We are broken because you made us broken." Dark fumed, backing Mark up into a wall, knife positioned towards him once more as Dark's grip tightened around handle. The sound of static became deafening and a high pitched ringing filled the air, burning Mark's ears from its intensity.

"Because when I look into the mirror, I also see you. The man you once were, the friend I once knew, the young Mark that just wanted to act. And I hate it." Dark sneered, inches away from Mark's face. "We could have been happy, we could have ALL been happy if you didn't go and mess things up. Why don't you just admit it was All. Your. Fault!"

"Dark, please! Just listen to me!"

"No! I'm tired of listening to you. I'm tired of being polite and diplomatic. I'm not Damien! Why don't you just say it. Say you hate me! Like how you hated the Colonel when he ran away with your wife! How you hated Celine for not staying with you! How you hated Damien for being so much more loved than you were. Say it. Say it!"

Dark suddenly lunges at Mark, Mark defending himself with an equal amount of force. They both topple to the ground, punches thrown and kicks made from both sides. Dark, having planned for this moment for years, was filled with an adrenaline high and quickly gained the upper hand. He smirks, Mark gazing up at him in wide-eyed fear as he was momentarily pinned to the floor. 

Dark loved it. The power he felt coursing through his body as he saw Mark shaking in trepidation beneath him was blinding. It felt so good. After decades of waiting, he was finally able to get what he wanted. To make Mark get what he deserved.