Antisepticeye Oneshots

Jack Meets Darkiplier

A/N: I know this isn't Anti-related, but... have it anyway.
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Premise: Jack learns about a new side of his friend, Mark.
Word Count: 1487

Pure darkness surrounded Jack, unknowingly fitting and also extremely disconcerting. His tinnitus was acting up the moment he opened his eyes. It was so loud that he thought that perhaps it wasn't his ears at all that was making the noise. He stood—how was he already standing?—for at least a minute with the ringing and his own confused thoughts before he became relieved as the noise quieted.

A familiar voice announced itself from the darkness. "I'm thrilled to finally be meeting you, after so long of hearing such interesting anecdotes about you." Out from the blanket of shadows, his friend, Mark, revealed himself. This wasn't exactly Mark, though, he realized almost immediately. A stark red and blue aura jutted out from his person, the scarlet copying his movements but a few seconds behind. The inky void seemed to almost steal the colour from his skin, leaving it greyed-out while he wore a pristine white suit that looked like it had never seen a speck of dirt in its life. He stopped a short distance from Jack and folded his hands behind his back.

"Mark—" he barely got out the name in time.

"Sean, is it? Or do you prefer Jack?" His voice echoed deep through the space, drowning out the ringing momentarily. His words confirmed to Jack that this was not Mark at all, but an abysmal copycat.

He ignored the question. "Who are you?" His own voice reverberated in the void.

"Don't worry about me. Worry about you." He spoke, smooth and confident, with more resilience than Mark ever had. He sounded like someone who could be trusted. Someone who, when he told you to not worry about something, then you knew for sure that it was not something to be worried about. Only because he said so. "Do you have a preference? I prefer Sean. I'm not a fan of nicknames."

Jack had his own questions, but he felt compelled to answer the copycat. "It- it doesn't matter."

"Names generally shouldn't." He turned and began walking, casually yet with such consideration toward each and every movement. It was only interrupted by the intangible nature of his body and how it seemed to break through space and time, like a ghost, or a glitch in a video game. "You're special, you know. Well, less special now that I'm here." He gave a smile that was more malicious than anything he had done thus far.

"Special? How?"

He stopped walking. "I'm not completely sure of that myself. But a little birdie told me about you—a pink one." He winked, like there was some inside joke between them, though Jack didn't know what it was. "And I thought I should meet you to be sure."

"Sure of what? How do you know who I am?"

He smiled humorously. "You're not exactly an obscure figure. You're also friends with a close enemy of mine."

Jack thought about who the enemy was, and decided to go with the obvious choice. "Mark?"

The copycat could not be read by his face and he said nothing to confirm whether Jack was right in his assumption. However, the scarlet aura around him steadily began grow and grow, larger and larger, until it snapped back in a blink, while the host paid no mind to how it moved, as though he knew he could not control it and he had accepted that fact long ago. He tilted his head sideways, but stayed silent for a while.

The human suit he wore cracked, but only as much as he allowed it to. He revealed a tiny sliver of himself as an experiment, a careful introduction to a stranger he wasn't quite sure he could trust, although he hoped his pink bird was right about what he said. The panic in Jack's face was beginning to make the dark copycat doubt his suspicions, although it was equally as delightful to look at as it was disappointing. For a moment, he entertained the thought of playing with the poor boy a little longer, then decided against it.

"I have no real reason to distrust you, Sean—"

"Who—what—are you?" Jack could see the slight indignation cross the others' face for a split second as Jack spoke over him. He continued, "A ghost? A demon?"

The copycat uncharacteristically chuckled at that. "I don't know of any demons, and I doubt anyone would consider me a ghost." He broke the reality of the void, and his hand, which had been behind his back, was now extended toward Jack. "Though, for all intents and purposes, you can call me Mark."

Jack did not shake his hand. "But you're not Mark, are you?" He asked rhetorically.

The copycat lowered his arm. "Names hardly matter, especially since it's unlikely we'll see each other again after this encounter. Now, if you'll let me finish—"

"You didn't answer me, you just—"

"I don't need to answer to the likes of you." He hissed, a monstrous echo trailing his voice. The intensity rendered Jack silent. Every ounce of the copycat's body burned rage, eyes shining an inky black colour. The red bursted outward, then retracted, while the blue remained as calm as it had always been. And, at once, the monster hid beneath the shadows and "Mark" returned, meticulously moving his hair from his eyes and wiping his pearl suit of nonexistent filth. In a gentle yet assertive tone, he said, "You must be wondering what about you caught my interest. I was told you were like me." He stood tall, proud, domineering.

Jack decided to keep his mouth shut and let Mark's copy speak. Then, as the space reverberated silence, he realized the copycat was waiting for him to say something. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He felt the need to act as proper as the copy, out of respect or perhaps the desire to conform, so he straightened himself, then realized how ridiculous he looked and cleared his throat. "Ahem. Well, I- I'm just a guy. And you're, you know, whatever you are. Mark's the most like you, right? Maybe you should visit him instead, and leave me... alone. Um, is there any water in here?" He looked around at nothing, swallowing dryly.

All the while, the copy watched with predatory amusement behind his eyes. "There isn't, but perhaps I should have some for when... guests visit." His voice was sardonic, dripping with it.

It was chilly in the piercing void, but Jack could feel his face heat up. He laughed, although there was no humour in it. He laughed until he stopped, and it remained silent for a few moments after.

The copy stared at him so intensely that he seemed to be staring through him. In reality, he was examining the painfully nervous form before him. He had to wonder how this predictable, pathetic human mortal was supposed to be on any level close to his own. "This... might have been a waste of time. Will must just be confused again, and thought he saw something that wasn't there."

"Yeah, probably..." Jack said.

Who the fuck is Will? Jack thought.

"I apologize for intruding on your life. I'll be leaving now." Dark rolled his neck, hands once again clasped behind his back.

"For good?"

"For now. But, don't hold your breath. Too many before you have, and have suffered for it." It sounded more like a threat than word of advice. There was no movement, but the copy seemed closer than before, his ebony eyes deeper and darker than the void they were in. And when he spoke, his low voice blended into Jack's own thoughts. "It's time for you to wake up now, Sean."

Jack was not touching him, but he could feel the copy's icy aura pierce through him, sending a numb chill all over his body. The darkness of him, the unending abyss that he was, pulled Jack into a hypnotic state, and something so deep within Jack almost wanted to stay that way.

He was sent backward, dragged roughly from the abyss and into the warm light. Free of the shackles of the copycat, and fully awake.

It was all a dream. And it certainly was a weird one. Jack sighed in his bed, thinking about it for a moment. Then he got up and completely forgot about it for the rest of the day.

However, when night came (or early morning, for that matter) and he entered his bathroom, he thought he saw... well, he didn't really know what he saw, and it was probably just something he imagined because he was tired. But, he thought he saw, in his peripheral vision, his reflection smiling at him, though he himself was not smiling. It was only for a second though, and he wasn't really sure he saw it, and it was probably, definitely, absolutely nothing.

Nothing at all.