Markiplier x Reader | The Promised Land

Chapter 17: War Games

This was it. Mark was half blinded in pain, but he mindlessly began shooting over and over and over at the mass of people down below. [Y/n] would take aim on some, he would wait, fire, and then he would aim and fire again. It was a strenuous process, and whenever they ran out of bullets, [Y/n] would quickly reload after Mark showed them how.

The clan began to spread out. Mark could hear them laughing and calling out maniacally even from way up top. They had to be careful now, he and [Y/n] needed to hold on for as long as possible until his people... if his people got word of the "Skull Breaker Plague" breaking loose in Eagle Rock.

They took out fifteen of them without missing a shot, but there was still no sign of Diablos, their leader. The guy with the hammer. That wasn't his actual name, that's just what they called him.

Mark could feel his right arm growing tired and shaky, but [Y/n] grew more persistent and angry with each shot they both took, balancing each other out. There was a sound behind them and the door burst open to reveal two Skull Breakers.

The Skull Breakers hooted and hollered, "THEY'RE UP HERE!"

"I CALL DIBS ON THE ANGEL!"

Thinking fast, Mark whirled around, pulled out his boot knife and chucked it at one of them, killing them instantly. The other came bolting straight for him, knife in hand. He briefly flashed back to the woman in the bunker getting him in the collarbone, and he rolled out of the way, watching the Skull Breaker fall off the building like an idiot. That made his stomach drop. No doubt someone has seen the body fall, only confirming where the two had hollered like hyenas.

[Y/n] thought the same thing, because they went over and found some old, heavy crates and blocked the door up. That would hold for a little while anyways. They both turned back to continue sniping, working together as a team, taking out more and more. Just as the numbers seemed to thin to a manageable amount, another wave tore over the hillside, twice as big as the previous mass.

Mark could feel the last bits of hope leaving his mind as he grew mentally and physically weaker by the moment. There was no escape at this point, it was his... no, it was their last stand. The Skull Breakers wanted their blood... and their blood they were going to get.

Mark could see [Y/n] had tears running down their face, but they also looked strong, resilient, and determined. Still, they both continued to fire, until the last of the ammo was gone.

The monsters were at the door now, he could hear them screaming like madmen. Mark stumbled upright to get his knife. Gunfire resounded close by, down below. Bits of concrete from the building flew up in the air around them as bullets twanged off the sides, it was coming from every direction. They were truly trapped now, just like Diablos has said. He silently cursed himself for dragging [Y/n] into so much, eventually leading up to the point where he is responsible for their death. Even if he lived somehow, he'd never forgive himself for losing them.

"I... I guess this is it," [Y/n] said, holding their own knife in one hand and their metal bat in the other. They were at the ready as the door kept getting bashed down, "This is how we'll die..."

"What better way than to honour the Light Ring," Mark whispered grimly, his voice laced with pain and deep sorrow, "May the light shine on us and guide us through this world to better lands."

As if on queue, the sky broke and the grey blanket parted for a moment. The sun shone through, brightening everything up. The gunfire got closer. The door was bashed open, and the Skull Breaker's squinted at the bright light. Mark lunged forward, slicing into the first one to come through. [Y/n] followed quickly after the slice at the one behind.

Mark kicked up his sniper rifle and swung it as hard as he could, sending one reeling. He watched as [Y/n] swung their bat at some behind, slowing the flow of Skull Breakers for a brief moment. 

He heard gunshots really close, within the building, resonating up the stairs. The Skull Breakers flooded them, overwhelming Mark and [Y/n], grabbing hold of them, tearing away at their skin. They were pulling, tugging, and screaming hysterically. Mark tried to keep fighting, but someone smashed into his broken arm and he seized up in shock and dropped his rifle.

He tried to bite and kick and punch with his good arm until it was seized by hands. Next was his throat. He was pulled backwards, away from the crowd who surrounded [Y/n]. He was shoved onto his knees in the chaos, felt the back of his head be put at gunpoint, and then he heard a gunshot resound in his ears.

Shocked, he instinctively fell face first onto the ground, but that hadn't been his shot. His eyes widened as he yelled, "[Y/n]! [Y/N] NO!!"

Then there was more gunfire, and more. He saw bodies beginning to fall around him, and he curled into a ball, making himself a smaller target. After a moment, the gunfire stopped. Another moment passed and he felt a hand touch him, "Mark?"

Mark flinched at the touch, fear blinding all of his thoughts. He didn't want to be hurt again, he didn't want to feel anymore. He just stayed there, frozen. The voice was familiar, but it wasn't [Y/n], "Mark, talk to me, are you hurt?"

A face slowly came to mind when he wasn't struck or shot at or attacked in any way. Was this person really friendly? After a long moment, a name was given to the face. 

Mark whimpered as he slowly looked up. In the blinding light of the sun, the person looked like nothing more than a glowing silhouette of an angel. Mark relaxed when the sun fell back behind the grey blanket and he was able to confirm who it was.

"S-Sean, oh my god it-it's you..." Mark said in a weak voice as Sean pulled him up into a hug, "Where's [Y/n]? C-Chica?"

"Chica was the one responsible for alerting us, Mark." Sean said in a soft voice, letting go of Mark to look at him, "If it wasn't for her I think all we would've found was your corpse mounted on a wooden stake outside of Pasadena."

Sean paused and then a frown appeared on his face. His voice was loud again, "What the hell did you do to get Diablos so angry? That hot head of yours?"

"Fuck you too Sean," Mark hissed as he looked away from Sean at the masses of bodies all around, "Where is [Y/n]? Are they okay?"

Sean nodded, looking over Mark's wounds, "They'll live, a little shaken up. You should be asking if you're okay, you're in bad shape."

"Oh w-wow, I never would've guessed that," Mark asked in a sarcastic voice, "How long do I have to live doc?"

"Long enough to drive me crazy. You're well enough to walk I assume?" Sean grabbed Mark's good hand and pulled him upright. Other members of the Light Ring stood around and saluted Mark as he stood up. "We should get you to Pasadena before Diablos finds out you survived..."

"This Angel has a-avoided his traps three t-times in a row now." Mark finished, shaking from the effort from standing. He took a few steps and his knee stopped working. He collapsed to the ground for what felt like the hundredth time. Frustrated, this time he yelled out, "Fuck!" as he hit the ground. He continued to use every curse word in his dictionary, which was quite a lot until Sean told him to stop and helped him back up again, this time swinging Mark's good arm over his shoulder.

"The boss sure is gonna be surprised when he hears you survived a Skull Breaker Plague game." one of the Light Ring members said, Mark couldn't help but nod. So far he was the only one, aside from [Y/n] to make it at least as far as they did... and live to tell the tale.

And oh boy did he have a tale to tell.