Dancing With Demons

•Chapter 5•

Mark
His eyes opened slowly, Mark quickly realized that he wasn't in his bed. He looked around, seeing blood smeared everywhere around him. The sound of his own heart pounding rapidly made him panic. "Amy," Mark worriedly called. He went to stand up, but found blood on his hands, jeans, and shirt.

What-What the fu-

A loud noise of something slamming down on metal brought Mark out of his head. "Amy," he stumbled forward, calling out desperately. The blood trail on the floor was smeared and hardened. He followed it, every step making his heart pound quicker. "Chica? Henry? Amy?!" There was nothing but a dripping sound. He looked over in the darkness, seeing blood dripping down from the ceiling.

Marks head raised up, and what he saw was horrific.

The figure in his dreams was on the ceiling, ripping into Felix's neck. Felix's eyes were wide open, his pupils a paint sky blue. His lips were slightly parted, and his hands were dangling close to Marks head. Mark shrieked, tears welling up in his eyes. The figures head whipped around, looking at him. Unlike what Mark has always seen of it, it's teeth were showing. Two rows of sharp teeth on each side of his mouth, covered in his friends blood.

Mark immediately spun around and booked it, tears threatening to come out of his eyes. The creature hissed, and he heard it's feet scrambling against the ground from behind.

All of a sudden, an object caught Marks foot and he fell face first into the cement and into a pool of blood. . The creature stopped moving, and was now nowhere to be seen. He groaned, looking at what he had tripped over. He first saw a leg, of had many bite marks out of it. There was blood everywhere, now even on Marks face and hair. He looked next to him, seeing dark brown hair dipped into blood. The body was looking away from him. "Sean," Mark asked, pulling on his shoulder frantically to see the rest of his body.

Jacks arm fell off of his body at the small movement. Mark felt sick as a tear dropped down his face. Jacks eyes were open, dead as well. There were many deep cuts sliced across his face, his eye gone, the socket bleeding. Mark leaned over, feeling nauseous. His eyes tore away from his friends corpse.

The creature was standing there, looking right at him.

Marks heart dropped, as he scrambled back into Jacks corpse. "W-What did you do to them," Mark asked, backing up into Jack's back. The creature didn't reply, or even speak. It just stared at him. Then it took a step forward. "G-Get the hell away from m-me!" The creature started to change shape, sizing down, its slender figure becoming wider. It revealed itself as Mark himself. But his face was pale and gray, his hair jet black, dark black eyes.

"I did not do anything," it replied calmly. "BULLSHIT," Mark spat. "I merely told you what lies ahead," Mark rolled his eyes, not believing anything it said. "Then why did you do it," it tilted its head sideways in an amused way. "Why did you kill me in those dreams," the creature chuckled deeply, and Mark suddenly remembered.

That's the guy I saw in the mirror!

  "That was a warning," it replied, it's eyes narrowed at him. Mark opened his mouth to say something, but got cut off by the creature. "Listen, I can help you fight this." "Fight what," he remembered that his friend's corpse was behind him and he looked back. "Fight your illness of course," "w-what?!" Mark asked, wondering if this means he actually had schizophrenia. The creature was now walking closer to him, his hand held out as if he wanted to make a deal. "All you have to do is let me control."

Before Mark could answer, he jolted awake to the feeling of his head hitting something. "Ughhhh," he groaned, looking up to see that he had, indeed, fallen off of the bed and hit his head on the ground. "Ugh."