Let Go

A Markiplier fan fiction. A very dark fiction.

Everything was set up and ready to go. Camera on. Microphone working. Computer on. Game nearly finished loading. Mark took another sip of his tea as he patiently watched the download bar move onwards. “97 % loaded” was the message conveyed on the computer screen.

“Oh come on, I gotta do another Warfstache interview episode and edit this as well as that. God d****t” Mark grunted in his deep voice as the bar slowly drifted onwards.

Finally after a good five minutes of further waiting, the loading screen disappeared and the game was set up.

“Let go. Follow this instruction if you wish. Just don’t let go of reality on your way.”

Mark almost shivered with excitement at the great quality of the game. Mark picked up his Rift and placed it carefully on his head and pressed record on his computer.

“Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier and welcome to Let Go.”

He quickly paused for breath and continued his introduction.

“This is a relatively new game for the Rift in which you play as yourself and you’re in a sort of different reality, but then again I didn’t do much research on the game and the case doesn’t give much help either.”

Mark’s gaze didn’t shift from his camera which caused him to miss the strange messages coming up on the game.

“The objective of the game is to keep your character’s sanity while traversing your own mind. It’s supposed to be a horror game but from some of the gameplay already on YouTube, it actually doesn’t look like much of a scary game, but nevertheless, let’s get to it!”

Enthusiastic and ‘in the zone’, Mark pulled the Rift over his eyes, picked up his controller and began to play.

“Okay, here we go”.

He read the instructions aloud so his viewers could hear even though they would be able to see them as he did after editing. The starting screen had a silverish and cloudy outline that seemed to be pulsating slightly. The main body of the screen was grey with a white cloud casually streaming around the screen. In the middle of it was the name of the game ‘Let Go’ in large white letters and the options ‘Play’ or ‘Run’.

“Let’s see, play or run? Okay, that’s kinda creepy”.

Mark feigned fear and laughed at this feeble attempt at a scare.

They’ll have to do better than that to scare the king of Five Nights At Freddie’s, he thought.

“Okay then, play”.

Fearless, Mark pressed the button. A further set of instructions appeared and Mark read them out like a prompter set up for him.

“‘Please tell me your name.’, okay, how about Markifart?!”

He pressed enter and another set of instructions appeared.

“‘Your real name please.’, okay then…. Markiplier” he enunciated as the instructions reappeared with a more threatening message.

“‘Last chance Fischbach, give me your real first name now.’ Well if you already know my name then why do I need to tell you?!” Mark yelled as he let out a cartoon-like laugh with an almost imperceptible undertone of concern. He obeyed his orders and was given yet another message.

‘Your last name too please’.

“Oh for the love of god!” Mark groaned as he typed his last name into the empty box.

“‘Hello Markiplier’, what the fu-”, before he could finish, the greeting box disappeared and Mark heard quiet but ominous music play in the background in his headphones as he progressed.

“‘Tell me Mark, what are you most afraid of?’, hell, I don’t know. I guess I can go with scarecrows since this kinda reminds me of the doctor guy from Until Dawn”, he laughed as he typed ‘Scarecrows’ into the box available.

Suddenly, a scarecrow’s twisted and stitched face filled Mark’s view with a deep, guttural growling echoing into the headphones, filling Mark’s ears and brain.

“AGH F**K! ARE YOU F*****G KIDDING ME?! SERIOUSLY?!”

Mark took a deep breath and waved his hands to stop them from trembling.

“I admit, I like what they did there because the text was getting smaller and I had to kind of lean in to read it, then I get that f****r in my face!”

Mark laughed uneasily, making it plainly obvious that he was getting uncomfortable.

Another message. Mark read it hastily.

“‘Now you understand what you’re getting into, time to play the game.’, okay, I’m in a room- Oh it's the warfstache!”.

Mark was in a square room surrounded by different assortments that were unique to him. Behind him was a blue sofa covered in pillows with “Inhale My Dong” written on them in various text sizes, fonts and colours. To the right was a desk with a computer and a small Tiny Box Tim plushie toy next to the mouse, his usual innocent face staring directly at Mark.

Unsurprisingly, Mark was astounded by these sights.

“Oh that’s awesome! The pillows all say inhale my dong , that’s amazi- oh my god! It’s Tiny Box Tim! What you doing here?”

Mark adopted a higher pitched voice.

“I don’t know Markimoo, I was just drinking my tea and suddenly I’m here!”

“Don’t worry Tiny Box Tim, we’ll figure this out! Oh look at that!”

To the left Mark saw, on each side of a large, rectangular window, two pictures of a cartoon version of himself with a quizzical look on his face. Underneath the cartoon Markiplier’s nose was Mark’s signature over sized, pink moustache.

“Aw! That's awesome! It looks more and more like the game was a fan made game for me. That’s really weird and creepy but still awesome!” Mark exclaimed as he admired the warfstache.

‘It was made for you Mark’, the message box replied.

Mark took a second to absorb the response. Did the game somehow know to answer his statement?

“Okay, so I think-, oh wait there’s more”, he reported as a new set of instructions appeared before him.

‘If you look straight ahead you will see three doors marked from the left to the right as Dream, Reality and Nightmare. To your direct left is a window with an exit sign above it. If you feel the game is becoming too…. intense, simply lift the hatch and proceed out of the game. However, once you enter the door, no escape is available to you until you complete the room.’

Mark read the instructions out clearly and carefully for his viewers to hear.

“Okay, so I guess once I’ve completed the first room, the next room will unlock so-”

Mark was cut off as another box appeared.

‘You are correct Mark’

“Um, okay…. this game is severely creeping me out guys”

‘Are you going through the damn door or not?’

“Okay, calm down. Jeez.”

Mark chuckled but his face had an expression of displeasure on it.

‘It’s hard to stay calm when you’re being a lazy s**t’

Mark remained quiet and stared at the message box for a few seconds, taking in the fact that a game had just insulted him.

“Who the hell are you calling lazy?”

‘Just get on with it’

“Wow, okay, so I just had an argument with a game and I am definitely crapping my pants right now.”

Mark wiped sweat off his forehead, trying to hide his growing concern.

“This is either the best game in the history of game development or…”.

Mark’s sentence trailed off as he picked his brain for the best description to give.

“Ah, forget it. It’s just a stupid game, with the stupid, fake Tiny Box Tim over there and the stupid inhale my dong pillows behind me and-”.

Mark was cut off again as another message appeared.

‘Why don’t you inhale MY dong you lazy, procrastinating clickbait king? Or you can get on with the freaking game’.

Mark stared at the message for a few seconds with a disapproving, yet slightly defeated expression on his face.

“You know what? F**k you. F**k the Rift, f**k this game and f**k the message box. I’m done.”

Mark took off his headset and made to turn off the Xbox but it refused to shut down. The controller vibrated and Mark felt compelled to put on the Rift and see what was happening. There was a final message for him.

‘You have to go through the exit to quit the game Einstein’.

Reluctantly, Mark opened the latch and his character appeared to climb through the window. As he proceeded through, a bright white light filled his eyes and he took off the Rift To find his Xbox off. Mark took a second to process this but then quickly remembered he was still recording and so, faced his viewers.

“So that had to be the weirdest game I’ve ever played. I’m not too sure what the hell was going on there but I think that’s enough for tonight.”

He continued but kept glancing back at the case.

“I don’t really know if I’ll go on there again but if you tell me in the comments below and I’ll continue, or not, based on the general vote. Anyway, thank you so much for watching this has been… interesting and as always I will see you, in the next video! BYE-BYE!”

MArk finished his enthusiastic wave and ended the recording. He sat back in his chair and stared intently at the game case with a concerned look. The case was plain black with the words “Let Go” in white letters on the front. On the back was a list of names which he assumed were people that helped make the game.

“Nope. It’s just a game. Just like any other game.”

The words were loud and clear but only just as believable as they were in his head. Mark left the chair and put on is fake pink moustache for his next video.

“Just a game”.

The next day came along and Mark was constantly glancing at the game case. As he picked it up and began to inspect it, he noticed a change to the list of names on the back. Below the last name, ‘Eric Mansen’, was a capital ‘M’. Mark was unsure of how to react to this but remembered his busy schedule.

With some prior hesitation, Mark placed the Rift on his head and began recording.

“Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier and welcome to the second part of Let Go.”

Mark looked at the game and gave a long sigh.

“So in this part I’m going to pick up where we left off, where I was faced with a door to the first level and we had a bit of a fight with the game.”

Mark remembered the rude and weird messages and shook his head with another sigh.

“Anyway, I did some research and I don’t know how old the game is but I figured it's very new since most people who’ve bought it haven’t gotten past the second door and everyone is yet to get to the final door so who knows? We might be the first to open the last door and finish the game!”

Mark put the Rift on and proceeded into the game.

‘I knew you’d come back, everyone eventually does’.

Mark shook his head and ignored the message.

“Okay, let's just get right into this. Open the first door!”

Enthusiastic and full of energy, Mark opened the dream door and proceeded through it.

“Argh! It’s too bright! Oh God, this is worse than leaving the window!”

Mark emerged from the light and saw a final message box.

“‘You're on your own now Mark. Good luck…. you'll need it.’ Yeah, well good riddance!I didn’t like you anyway!” Mark yelled as the light cleared.

Through the brightness, Mark entered a room that was the same as the last room except for a few details. To his left,the window did not have a latch and had no exit sign on it. To the right was the same computer set up but with the absence of a Tiny Box Tim smiling at Mark on the edge of the desk.

“Okay, so I’m back in the same room but I can’t leave through the window. Oh no! Tiny Box Tim is gone!”

Mark looked down and noticed a note on the table in front of him.

“Let’s see, ‘Tiny Box Tim has been kidnapped, you must use your natural instincts, intelligence and wits to find him and bring him back safely’, yeah but by instincts suck!”

Mark put down the note laughing.

“Okay,so what do we do from here? Oh a door! How convenient!”

Mark turned around and saw a small, wooden door with a bronze handle. Dangling from the handle was a ‘do not disturb’ sign.

“Well pardon me, but I WILL disturb. Nothing shall stop me from rescuing my Tiny Box Tim!” Mark yelled as he stormed through the door.

The door opened with a loud creak and Mark was faced with a long, narrow hallway.

“All righty then. I hate hallwas so much but we can do this! Let’s just see if there’s anything around here that can light this place up.”

As if answering his request, the hallway lamps lit up to allow a dim light to only just make the hallway visible. The hallway was barren and empty with a green carpet running all the way down. Lining the walls were old style lamps with very dim bulbs.

“Okay, so we have light but still a really creepy atmosphere”.

Mark started down the long hallway.

“So I guess Tiny Box Tim is at the end of this hallway, or there’s a door or something. What the hell is that?”

Mark turned to the right and saw a cube drawn in blood on the wooden wall.

“Oh god, no. Please don’t say that’s Tiny Box Tim! Don’t let Tiny Box Tim be dead!”

Mark looked ahead as he kept walking and on his left, he saw a tiny blood handprint sliding across the wall as if someone had been dragged across.

“Oh god, what the hell?! Why would you kill Tiny Box Tim?! Why would you kill my adventure buddy?! You a*****e!”

Mark kept running down the hallway and stopped to read a message on the wall. It was short and simple.

“Run? What the he- AGH F**K NO!!”

Mark was shocked out of his skin when he turned around to see a giant crate with three giant holes in it. Two at the top resembled eyes and were bleeding downwards. The biggest below these two holes seemed to resemble a huge, round mouth with sharp teeth neatly arranged around the mouth like a dementor from Harry Potter.

Mark ran down the hallway with the Demon Box Tim quickly gaining on him. As he reached the end of the hallway, screaming like a girl, he saw a table with a note on it and a cup of tea next to it.

‘Throw this at your enemies.’

Mark looked at the cup and the option ‘Throw’ came up. As he pressed on the cup, his character picked up the cup of tea and threw it at Demon Box Tim. With an agonised scream, the crate exploded at the touch of Earl Grey tea.

“Oh my god. Seriously? I killed it with Earl Grey tea?! Are you f*****g kidding me?!” Mark laughed at the irony of this act but was still shaken from the jumpscare.

“Okay so I just gotta open this door and- OH MY F*****G GOD WHAT THE HELL?!”

As Mark reached for the door there was a loud banging noise and the door zoomed backwards and out of sight.

“What the hell is this?! Oh god, this isn’t a dream! Dreams are nice and happy, this is a goddamn nightmare!” Mark yelled with a laugh as he proceeded down the hallway yet again.

As he was proceeding down the hallway the lights went out and Mark was lost in the dark.

“Oh come on! I just got away from two jumpscares, I really don’t need another one!”

As he kept walking he saw a glowing red message on the wall.

‘Save me’.

“Oh god, no! Tiny Box Tim! Where are you buddy? I’m a comin’ for you!”

Mark began to run down the hallway and as he opened the door at the end he was in a big white room. As Mark looked around he was suddenly sent leaping out of his chair.

“WHAT THE F**K?!”

Mark screamed as he heard another huge bang vibrate throughout his ears and a voice came through, pleading to him.

‘Help me Mark. He’s coming. Help me.’

After hearing this, Mark frantically scanned the room, searching for Tiny Box Tim. Eventually, sat in the corner of the room, was a small box. It’s tiny, noodle arms were drooped down each side of the box and lay across the floor. Tiny Box Tim’s big blue eyes were staring right up at Markiplier and it’s mouth twisted into a fearful, agonised frown.

In the corner of the room sat Tiny Box Tim. A huge splatter of blood was sprayed across the wall behind Tim.

“NOOOOOOOO! Why would you kill Tiny Box Tim?! How could you, game? Why take little Tim?! He was my best buddy! F**k you!”

Mark looked around the room for something else but only saw the blood behind Tiny Box Tim.

“Wait, so if I failed to rescue Tim, have I lost the game or what? What happens now?”

In front of Mark, a door opened from the middle of one of the walls and lead back to the original room. As Mark made his way back into the centre of the room a message box appeared and the middle door was now available.

‘Congratulations on rescuing Tiny Box Tim. I’m not surprised you were able to find him, although he is easy to miss.’

“Wait a minute, what the hell? Tiny Box Tim is dead! I just saw his tiny box corpse lying in front of a fountain of blood, even though bleeding boxes makes no damn sense!”

Mark looked to his right where the desk was.

“What the f**k?! What happened to Tim?”

As he looked to his right, Mark saw the same Tiny Box Tim plushie but the inside stuffing was painted red and was sticking out f the top corner of Tim’s head where there was a huge rip. One of Tim’s arms was missing and more red stuffing seeping out of it and one of his eyes had been stitched closed, but the most horrifying change was his facial expression which was twisted into a look of pure dread.

“Oh my god, that’s disgusting! What the f**k is going on here?!”

Mark looked at the second door.

“No, f**k this, we’re done now.”

Mark turned away toward the window, lifted the latch and left the game.

“That was definitely the most fucked up part of the game I’d ever seen. Why the hell would anyone kill Tiny Box Tim? You sick b******s!”

Mark took the Rift off and began to laugh whilst also faking a concerned and saddened tone.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to continue on with the game and find out who killed Tim or maybe why the game said well done for finding Tim even though he was dead!”

Mark took a pause to look at the case and draw breath.

“Anyway, thank you for watching, we WILL find Tim’s killer and as always I will see you, in the next video! BYE BYE!”

Once again, Mark finished his wave and ended the recording. He left this part of the game in fairly higher spirits than he did the last time. As he picked up the Rift and placed it on the desk and proceeded to rearrange the room for his next video he turned to his sofa and his heart skipped a beat. Sitting on the sofa was a Tiny Box Tim plushie toy from one of his fans but it was the exact same one that he saw at the end of the recording. The red stuffing was emerging from a tear in the top right corner, one of the arms was ripped off and Tim’s terrified eye was glaring right at Mark.

“Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier and welcome to the third in the Let Go series! Last episode we had a really unhappy surprise as Tiny Box Tim was found dead in the first level and then the game just went full retard and said well done for saving Tim. However, I assumed that the game was supposed to say that so you’d be like ‘What the f**k?’. So I’m assuming Tim was supposed to die. Which SUCKS!”

Mark put on the Rift and entered back into the game.

‘What happened Mark?’

“What the hell? What kind of question is that?”

Mark looked back at the broken Tiny Box Tim on the computer desk.

‘Tim wasn’t supposed to die Mark. Someone is messing with the game. I don’t know what’s going on.’

“This is really weird, so I’m just gonna go ahead and go through to the next level.”

Mark walked toward the middle door titled ‘Reality’ and passed through the usual beam of light. As he emerged he found himself sitting at a computer desk, holding an Xbox controller.

“What the hell? I’m at my desk. What’s going on here?”

On the computer screen a message appeared.

‘Hello Mark. I want to play a game with you.’

“Oh my god, we’re stealing SAW scenes now? This is stupid and kind of sad too.” Mark laughed as he continued to read out the message.

‘You already know who I am and I know who you are. The only problem we have is that you don’t quite know me yet. If you know what I mean.’

“Actually, no, I don’t know what you mean Mr Computer. Are you Tim’s killer?” Mark responded with a sarcastic tone.

‘Yes.’

Mark looked at the response silently for a second.

“Oh okay, so we’ve found Tim’s killer! You evil a*****e!”

The computer continued.

‘In the last level you could have saved Tim but I thought it would be more interesting if you didn’t. The only blow to my plan was not being able to convince that idiot at the start of the game that Tim was dead.’

Mark thought back to the message he saw after the first level but kept reading, barely remembering that he was still recording.

‘I have another friend of yours waiting to be saved. I’m a fair sport, so I’ll give you a better chance of rescuing him this time.’

“What the hell? This is ridiculous!”

Mark sat in his chair chuckling but still felt rather uneasy.

‘Better hurry Markiplier.’

As Mark finished reading the message the entire room was suddenly engulfed in darkness.

“What the hell? Who turned out the lights in here?”

As Mark said this he heard a voice come through to him in his headphones. The voice was raspy and almost intelligible but it sounded almost exactly like Mark.

‘All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That’s how far you are from where I am. Just one bad day.’

“What the actual hell is happening?”

Suddenly, the lights were on and Mark found himself in a different room. The room was entirely black with one singular light hanging from the ceiling. Across from him sat a person who was most definitely not unknown to Mark. Wilford Warfstache. Mark was stunned as he saw his own self sat in front of him with his signature pink moustache.

“What the f**k? Wilford Warfstache? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!!” Mark yelled with a trembling voice as he forced a very unconvincing laugh. Wilford turned to Mark’s left and spoke as if talking to an imaginary crowd, with a very peculiar look as if he was in a trance.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen and all other configurations of being, my name is Wilford Warfstache and-”

As Wilford was talking Mark could hear the same voice coming back again, drowning out Wilford.

‘Right now Wilford is in a trance. You need to attempt to snap him out of it before he finishes his interview. I don’t know how long his interview will be but you better hurry up.’

“What? How the hell do I do that? This game is so stupid!” Mark exclaimed, desperately trying to remember that he was still recording.

“Wilford, wake up!! Snap out of it man!!” Mark yelled as he lunged toward Wilford and began slapping him in the face. His efforts were to no avail as Wilford kept reciting his lines.

“Okay, okay, how do I stop it? What do I do when I’m finished doing the Warfstache interviews?”

Suddenly, the answer hit him like a bullet. The Warfstache! Mark grabbed on to Wilford’s pink moustache and pulled with all his might. Eventually, the moustache had come off. Mark was relieved but then turned the Rift downwards to look at his hand.

“OH MY GOD WHAT THE F**K IS THAT?!!”

In Mark’s hand was the pink moustache with Wilford’s entire jaw and upper lip attached to it. MArk looked back up at Wilford who was staring directly at Mark, his skin pale and his eyes empty. His entire jaw had been violently torn away, leaving blood and flesh dripping everywhere and his row of upper teeth dangling from the gaping hole.

“Oh god, that’s disgusting! What the f**k?!”

Wilford toppled over and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor, drowning in a lake of his own blood. A message appeared in front of Mark.

‘Oh dear, wrong choice. It seems Wilford won’t last another day. Interesting choice though Mark. I like you. But I still want to kill you.’

Mark was left speechless at this message but quickly snapped out of it when he remembered the recording.

“This game is quickly becoming the creepiest game I’ve ever played. What the f**k even is this?”

Mark tried his best to smile but his heart just wasn’t in it anymore. Behind Wilford’s corpse, a door opened in the wall which led to the beginning room. Mark proceeded toward it and heard a final goodbye from the voice before leaving.

‘I’ll see you soon Mark. I never leave.’

Mark entered the starting room which was noticeably darker than before. To his right was the mauled Tiny Box Tim and to his left was the Warfstache pictures. They had changed as well. The one on the left of the window was ripped up and had red gashes across it, forming a giant ‘X’. The one on the right had changed to look like Markiplier with devil horns and red eyes. His hair was noticeably bushier and he had a satanic grin, bearing small, sharp fangs.

“Okay screw this, I’m done for this episode.”

Mark opened the latch on the window and climbed out once again. He took the Rift off his head and set it down carefully on his desk. He took a few seconds to look at the mangled Tiny Box Tim sat on his desk, staring at him through his one eye.

“Okay, so that episode was really freaky and almost as bad as the first one. I’m not sure if I want to finish this game but I suppose I am anticipating the final door so I’ll finish it off tomorrow. So thank you all for watching and as always I shall see you, in the next video. BYE BYE!”

Mark ended the recording and immediately went to bed. As he got up to go to his room he noticed the walls had been vandalised. All of his portraits and fan art had been torn up or written on. In red writing were messages all over the walls saying ‘I don’t feel like myself’, ‘It’s me’ and ‘Don’t help us’. Mark didn’t know what to make of this but didn’t want to think about it either. He collected his thoughts, went to his room and got his deserved sleep.

This time there was no introduction. There was no upbeat welcoming into the game. There was only recording and playing. Mark already had the Rift on and was already in the starting room. The room looked exactly like his room did last night. All over the walls were those three messages. The room was now almost pitch black, lit only by a few scattered candles. The window had a huge hole in it where someone had smashed it through. In Mark’s sight was a series of messages.

‘I don’t know how he got here Mark but he won’t stop until he’s free.’

“What the hell does that mean?”

‘I can’t stay for long, he’s somehow found a way to get rid of me too.’

Mark tried to answer but his attention was drawn to something else. From the Nightmare door, black shadows were seeping out of it and covering the room, slowly putting out the candles.

‘He’s destroying the room. Get through the door NOW! And take this, it might help’

Mark was handed a small circular object with a red button on it.

“What the hell is this? How will this help me?!”

‘MOVE!’

Mark ran toward the door and flung it open. A big field of red covered his face and he felt a burning hot sensation shoot up his neck. After the red cleared Mark found himself on a stage in front of millions of people. He didn’t know what was going on or why he was there.

From nowhere a deep, growling voice could be heard that filled the venue.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, the one and only Markiplier!’

The crowd immediately went into a tidal wave of booing and hissing.

‘Can you hear that MArk? These are your oh so beloved subscribers. Listen and hear how much they hate you! DOES IT DEPRESS YOU BROTHER?! KNOWING JUST HOW ALONE YOU TRULY ARE?!!’

“What the f**k? Why am I here?!”

‘This, dear brother, is the final level. The Nightmare. The objective is simple. Don’t get sad, don’t cry. Don’t even feel slightly down. Can you succeed?’

Mark was about to feel the lowest sinking feeling ever but refused to give up.

“This isn’t real. My fans love me. They care about me. All the stuff they send me all the time and all the amazing things they say and make for me-”

The voice interrupted.

‘ARE LIES! THEY LIE TO YOU MARK! THEY FEEL SORRY FOR YOU! THEY KNOW THAT A CHILD LIKE YOU COULD NEVER AMOUNT TO ANYTHING SO THEY CREATE THESE LIES TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD ABOUT YOUR PATHETIC EXISTENCE!’

“No. It’s not true.”

Mark looked out at the crowd and saw the faces of disgust and hatred all staring directly into him.

‘ I know what you fear the most Mark. You fear you own insecurities. You fear failure. You fear me.’

“Big words coming from the one who’s hiding.”

‘So that’s how you want to play it? Very well then.’

As the voice said this. Mark was transported to a black room with a light hanging from the ceiling, similar to the room in which Wilford died. as he looked around he saw a smoke figure slowly take form in front of him. The man who appeared in front of Mark was short but well built. He had a black beard coming on and black sides with the top of his hair dyed crimson red. His eyes were covered by a bloodstained rag that was tied around his head. He wore black trousers that were ripped at the knees and a black t shirt with a red moustache above the letter ‘D’. It was Darkiplier. He gave a smile to Mark and revealed what seemed to be fangs on his upper row of teeth.

“Oh my god.” Mark said as he sat in his chair staring into the Rift.

‘That’s right brother.’ Darkiplier responded in Mark’s voice but rather distorted.

‘I have wanted to do this for so long. To finally get my hands on you and become the real twin that can walk the earth.’

“Why do you want to kill me? Why do you even exist?”

‘Think of it like this; there are two kinds of people in the world. Order and chaos. I’m your chaos.’

“That doesn’t even make any sense.”

‘Fair enough, I just want to watch the world burn, really.’

Darkiplier took out a long knife from his back pocket and lunged toward Markiplier. He suddenly remembered the button given to him and pressed it. The button transformed into a tiny, shining box wearing a pink moustache, too big for it’s face.

“TINY BOX TIM! YOU’RE SAFE!!” Mark yelled as he jumped up with excitement.

‘WHAT THE F**K? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD YOU ANNOYING LITTLE S**T!’

Tiny Box Tim sized up against Darkiplier and handed Markiplier a spare Warfstache. They nodded at each other and stared directly at Darkiplier. Within just a few seconds, the Warfstaches were glowing pink and shot a huge beam of pink light directly at Darkiplier.

‘NO! I CAN’T FAIL! NOT WHEN I’M SO CLOSE!’

Eventually, Darkiplier was wasted away in a fantastic beam of light and Mark was back in the starting room. Everything was as it should be. Tiny Box Tim sat on the desk with his usual happy face, the warfstache portraits were back in proper condition next to the window and all three doors were available and completed. Before the game ended Mark got a final message.

‘Congratulations. And thank you.’

Mark was brought out of the game at last.

“Wow, that was an amazing experience.”

He looked at his computer and realised he was recording. In high spirits he did his usual outro.

“Well that game was fun. At the end. Anyway, don’t get this game. I hated it. Never again. Thank you for watching and as usual I will see you, in the next video. Bye bye!”

Mark finished his wave and the recording and looked around to see his room back in the usual condition. With a satisfied smile, Mark put on his jacket and proceeded to go out.

When he left the camera started once again. A short man stood in front of it. A man with red hair and a red t shirt on. He turned the camera to the wall next to him with a message written on it.

‘I’ll never leave.’

Author's Note

This is the only story I have which is dominated by speech so please let me know how I handled speech and if the way I structured it was okay.

(Pls notice me Senplier xD) Also, credit to ravensplach26 on DeviantArt for the picture