since eighth grade. → markiplier

Chapter Ten: Darkness

Chapter Ten: Darkness

 WARNING: DARK CHAPTER

Elliot

I stare blankly ahead, clutching my knees close to my chest. I rock back and forth, occasionally letting out a choke as wave after wave of sobs attack me. I have no idea how long it’s been since he’s left me here – violated, disgusted and tormented – but I presume that it’s been a few hours. Or maybe it’s just been a couple of minutes. Or, as I have been looking out of the window above me, one of which I can’t reach, it would make sense that it has been a couple of days.

Does time matter anymore? I’ve been here for about… three days, and already death by murder seems inevitable. When he came back up, I thought he was going to do it right there and then. With a gun, a blunt baseball bat, a knife. If I’m honest, murder is better than what he just… did to me.

I hold a hand over my mouth, trying to muffle any of my sobs or wounded, animal-like cries, but it doesn’t seem to help. In the end, I just curl up on the floor in the corner of the attic, my wet cheek pressed against a small gathering of my own tears on the wooden floor.

I have no idea what holing up in the corner of the room will achieve, but being as far away from the door to the attic as possible makes me feel a little safer.

Mark

Sill no calls. Still no texts.

I let out a deep sigh, placing my hands on my face for a moment as I sit over the edge of the bed. I know that three days without contact shouldn’t cause worries but, under the circumstances of her being with a supposedly wounded Caleb and her father, I feel as if I have a reason to be a little… twitchy.

I hear the familiar jingle of Sherlock’s bell, and I take it as my little call back to reality. I push myself up and off of the bed, walking out into the kitchen where the impatient cat sits. I pull out a tin of his cat food, tipping it out into its dish.

I pour myself some cereal afterwards, finding that I am particularly hungry after watching the cat wolf down its own breakfast. I grab the bowl of cereal and walk into the lounge, scooping up the TV remote as I drop down onto the sofa.

The first channel that pops up is the news, and I find myself almost having to resist the urge of rolling my eyes. I go to scroll through the channels when the face that pops up on the screen causes me to freeze.

            (I have never been to Boston before, or, heck, even America, so all areas are made up.)

“…Caleb Waterson’s body was found under Oakwood Bridge at six thirty the previous night. Police say they found various wounds over the boy’s body, each of which indicate to murder. Exactly one year before this suspected murder took place, life insurance was placed upon Caleb as if to earn money from the so-called ‘tragic incident’. Back to you, Isaac.”

I almost drop the bowl of cereal from my shaking hands, but I place it down onto the coffee table gently. I swallow the lump in my throat, removing my glasses as I think things through. Okay, so his body was found yesterday. He was either murdered before or during the time that Ellie visited, and his death was planned.