Chapter Text
Mark looked at the calendar. Tomorrow was supposed to be a religious celebration from his old religion. He didn't know why he bothered keeping this information with him. Maybe a part of him wants to return, no matter how badly he was treated. At least for a while, when he acted correctly, he was loved. He was perfect. If only he hadn't questioned anything.
Mark shook his head, a sudden intense anger bubbling up directed at nobody in particular.
'Just a bunch of malarkey.' He told himself mentally. He didn't go through anything bad, he's just making a mountain out of a molehill again. Mark ought to get his head back in the game, he was going to be late for work. He's fine as long as he's up and breathing, or so he told himself. Mark got ready alongside Wallter, who would drop him off before going to work himself. Mornings were always a little hectic but Mark loves it, he was currently making breakfast for the two of them and packing Wallter's lunch. A pot of coffee was being made, Mark loved drinking his black but he knew Wallter was very particular with his coffee; 2 sugars, 3 creams.
"Wallter hun, come grab breakfast!" Mark called out loud and clear, any dark thoughts earlier being momentarily forgotten. The tall brick man lumbered in, rubbing sleep off his eyes as he sat down while Mark served his beloved breakfast; 2 toast, some honey, egg, banana and his specific coffee. Mark himself didn't bother himself as much with breakfast, often grabbing a granola or banana with his coffee. Maybe if Mark was feeling fancy he'd make a smoothie with whatever fruits were in the house with some milk and honey.
Today was a smoothie day as he gulped his down, drinking his coffee right after before rushing to get ready. Mark threw on his vest, hard hat and utility belt, and soon hopped out to the car where Wallter, dressed more elegantly in a cardigan and the blue scarf Mark had gifted him, sat.
Not long after they arrived at Mark's workplace, and the mannequin gave his husband a chaste kiss on the lips before heading out.
***
"Did you hear of the new cult that's been going around online?" Mark overheard one of his colleagues say during lunch break, and he froze.
"Yeah, how stupid! It's so obvious that it's a cult! These people are just stupid, you'd never catch me being caught up in this bullshit," someone else replied, and the two of them chuckled. Hearing that, Mark's temper flared up, he wanted to murder the two of them. Losing his appetite, he went out for a walk, needing a minute to breathe.
'Weak pussy, gettin' all riled up over nothin'! Y'know damn well whatever ya went through wasn't as bad as some o' the folks that ACTUALLY suffered, yer just making a mountain out of a molehill again! What's wrong with ya, yer just wantin' t' be all special by fakin' this bullshit, ain't it?!?! Yer FINE. YER FINE. YE DIDN'T GO THROUGH ANYTHIN' TO WARRANT THIS.' He internally screamed at his reaction to the conversation. His hands were shaking, which upon seeing it made an already enraged Mark even angrier, clenching his fists. He felt sweaty and prickly and uncomfortable, feeling like there were freezing needles wriggling under his skin and he felt the ever uncomfortable sensation of being watched.
His heart was hammering in his chest, and Mark was having a bit of trouble breathing. His eyes darted around, suddenly feeling like an animal being hunted, and his hops became faster and more forceful as he tried to walk his reaction away. The mannequin's mind was playing tricks on him again, seeing things out of the corner of his eyes and having flashes of past memories he didn't want to remember; the punishments, the threats of what would happen to him if he were to turn his back on his religion, the lashings, the cuttings.
An overwhelming sense of dread and paranoia washed over Mark, mingling with his immense outrage, and it all bubbled over and he began to punch the nearest wall he found repeatedly, muttering insults to himself for feeling this way until he finally yelled and punched the wall as hard as he could.
He was still trembling slightly when he looked at his fists. They were a bloody mess, throbbing in pain, but Mark didn't pay much mind to it. His heart was still clenched from what felt like immense fear, which now plagued his mind now that his anger diminished, and Mark looked around to see that nobody saw his crash out. Satisfied nobody caught him in the act, he quickly hopped back to work to clean himself up and distract himself again.
But the entire day he felt like a worm in a chicken coup, constantly looking over his shoulder, flinching at the tiniest of noises, snapping at the tiniest of things. All the while feeling more and more frustrated at himself for acting like this, he KNOWS he shouldn't be reacting like this and yet he is. Why can't he be normal?
Thankfully work was over, and he clocked out and left as soon as he could. Mark hopped to Wallter's car, where Wallter was waiting for him. Upon getting in, he slammed the door a lot harder than he intended, flinching slightly at the noise and for a moment bracing for punishment.
'Good fucking lord, NOTHING is going to happen to me! Nobody is looking for me, nobody is going to hurt me, nobody is going to poison me or try and kill me or take me back to that place again, I'M FINE. NORMAL AND FINE AND SANE. SO START ACTING LIKE IT.' Mark harshly scolded himself, annoyed and angry for still feeling jumpy and emotional. He must've looked incredibly pissed because Wallter didn't try to talk with him, simply putting on Mark's favorite songs on to ease him up a bit. Though Mark appreciated the act, his mind began to spiral, dark thoughts whispering of how people are looking for him, how they'll take him back to his religion, how they'll hurt him again. How everybody could be potentially linked to his old religion and how nobody can be trusted. It got worse from there, he began to remember the past again. He clenched his fists, trying to distract himself and not fall down this hole again, but was failing miserably. Mark sat like a lifeless statue as his mind swam through bad memories, not daring to breathe, not daring to even move a muscle lest he bring attention towards himself again and get punished for it.
He began to disassociate, feeling like he was back at that place, learning how mannequins like him would be severely punished for questioning the One. For being queer. For daring to speak out. Mark was told with graphic detail how in the afterlife nonbelievers would be punished; boiled by their feet until their brains are cooked, being skinned over and over again, having needles wriggle under their skin for all eternity, forever to look up at the blessed eating and drinking from Lord's garden while they starve and remain thirsty for all eternity. His heart pounded near painfully against his chest, feeling sick and angry and scared and sad and every negative emotion all at the same time.
By the time they reached home, he got out of the car as quickly as possible and hopped to bed, stripping down to his boxers before climbing into bed and curling up under the blanket. Mark remained in that position for hours, not moving an inch.
He doesn't remember when he fell asleep, but when he did he was still alone. He checked the date and time. Today was the holiday, and he's too late for work. He couldn't care less, he continued his spirals all throughout the day, curled up tight under the blanket.
'I'm the only one who turned out like this. Everyone else was fine. Everyone else was happy. Why am I the only one to turn out like this? I'm supposed to be normal. I'm supposed to be okay. I left, I'm supposed to be fine by now. I'm always the problem, everythin's all my fault and I deserve this, don't I? This is my punishment for leavin' ain't it? I did this to myself, nobody to blame but me. Stupid stupid, it's all stupid, yer stupid, and I wish I was normal! What am I sayin', I AM! SO START ACTIN' LIKE IT. Ye didn't go through anythin', stop yer whinin'.' But no matter what he told himself, he remained afraid, remained looking over his shoulder, always feeling watched, forever paranoid.
And he wishes he could just end it all.