The hallway outside of Chase's room was dark, lit only by streams of green from the computer room a few doors away.
Anti brushed his hands delicately on his chest and rolled his head on his shoulders, feeling his neck crack. The air usually screeched around him, but Anti's concentration pulled the background noise to a low hum.
The next steps of his plan were laid out so neatly before him, simple as the footsteps he took towards the computer room. Anti eased the door shut behind him, and turned his bloodshot eyes to the screens that decorated the desk.
Anti's presence alone was causing interference; the monitors practically shook with the force of the glitches that cascaded through them. The fans had kicked up on the system unit under the table - even the lights flickered on the wall behind him. The very circuits were protesting, as Anti's victims often did.
Anti drew Chase's phone from his pocket and laid it on the table before him. Chase wouldn't be a thorn in his side for much longer, he knew. But for everything to work properly, Chase couldn't have any contact with the other egos. At least, not now.
Anti let his mind sink into the processing centers of the computers before him. They tended to put up less of a fight than people did, and were a mite more predictable, too. Anti made short work of their defenses, and so wedged himself neatly between Chase and the rest of the world.
As Anti's ghostly figure began to disappear, he nudged the door back open. Just before he faded, he threw one last glance at Chase's bedroom.
Anti smiled.
Chase dreamt again that night, of a small room with a television in the corner. The screen was buzzing with black-and-white static. He walked slowly towards it, studying it, but was unable to make out any shapes in the static. Curious, he took the antennas in his hands. He twisted them around, listening for a break in the humming, and at last he heard a clear signal - he stepped back from the TV and looked down.
In the screen, he could see a white bed, on which a man slept, very quiet and very still. He was connected to a cardiac monitor, which beeped placidly at intervals.
"Jack," Chase said, tapping on the screen. "Jack, can you hear me?"
And to Chase's surprise, the man sat up.
Jack turned his head towards the screen- Chase gasped, falling backwards, away from the TV.
"Chase!" came Jack's muffled voice, but as Chase scrambled to his feet, static swallowed the image again, and not another word could be made out.
May 5th, 2018.
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He's Probably Fine - Jacksepticeye Egos Fanfic
FanfictionWhat's going on with Chase Brody? Everyone's favorite trick-shotting YouTuber has been under a lot of stress recently. His friends are scattered to the winds; one's in a coma, one's lost in time, and one took a surprise vacation. But Chase can hand...
