Chapter Text
Mark is beginning to get concerned.
It has been a over a week since Jack had contacted him. The Irishman normally talked to Mark every day, even if it was just a simple text.
Mark tries to convince himself he was worrying over nothing; perhaps Jack had taken a break from technology to spend time with his family or to work on something. Hell, maybe he was even just having issues with his internet and phone services. Despite his attempts to calm his concerns, Mark can’t ignore the nagging feeling in his gut telling him something is terribly wrong.
Determined to not let his paranoia get the best of him, Mark decides a good night’s sleep would be the best thing for him. Perhaps tomorrow Jack will call him, and his worries would be soothed.
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Mark was confused. He was in someone’s bedroom, but he had no idea who.
The unsettled feeling that had been laying in his chest was stronger though, and he was certain that something bad was about to happen. He noticed a clock on the wall; 4:00 am. In the bed laid a man, and though Mark couldn’t see his face he could tell by the man’s body language that he was awake and terrified. The man felt familiar to Mark, but without seeing his face it was impossible to tell who it was under the blankets of the bed. Come to think of it, Mark realized that parts of the room itself were vaguely familiar to him.
Mark isn’t sure why, but he is suddenly drawn to turn his face away from the bed and turn it to the other side of the room. There is a desk setup on the other side of the room, with another man lounging against it.
At first Mark thinks that the man at the desk is Jack, and his heart skips a beat. Then he looks closer, and realizes that there are a few terrifying differences between his Irishman and whoever this...thing is in front of him.
Whereas Jack’s alabaster pale skin was beautiful and made it seemed like a had a constant pleasant glow, the pale skin of the creature in front of Mark was sickly and ashy. Jack’s face was always warm and inviting; this imposter’s face was cold, the smile on its face a cruel mockery of Jack’s own.
The worst part, though, was its eyes. Both of Jack’s eyes were a sweet blue, and so gentle you always wanted to stare into them. One of the eyes of the not quite look-alike was a sickly green, and Mark couldn’t bring himself to look at it for very long.
Suddenly, the thing at the desk speaks, and Mark wants to scream at the bastardisation of the voice he knew so well.
“You pay too much attention to detail. It means you miss the obvious,” the creature says as it steps closer to the bed and sits down on it’s edge. “If I wanted you dead, you would be.”
Mark sees the man laying in the bed clench his fists. He wants desperately to help the man, but realizes he is frozen in place, powerless to do anything but watch whatever is about to happen.
Mark watches the look-alike as it taunts and touches the man in the bed. Mark hears the man argue with the creature, and his heart drops as he realizes who it is. No, it can’t be true!
“Get off me you fucking son of a bitch!” Mark hears the man in the bed scream, and there’s no denying it now; that’s Jack trapped underneath this monster. Mark tries to scream, but finds that nothing comes out. Tears start to fall down his face, he is helpless to watch as this creature torments the man he loves.
The creature forces Jack into a kiss, and Mark feels his blood boil as he watches Jack struggle. He wants to tear the creature limb from limb, but knows he can’t do anything.
“Tell me, mo milis. Who do you belong to?” , the creature asks Jack, grinning maliciously.
“I belong to you, Anti.” Even though they come out of the Irishman’s mouth, Mark can tell the words are not Jack’s own.
“That’s right, little one. And now, you’re coming with me .” the monster says as it grabs Jack’s hand and pulls him up. Suddenly, they both disappear, and Mark is left alone in the room.
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Mark shot up in bed, chest heaving and tears in his eyes. That was the most terrifying dream he’s ever had, and sure didn’t help his nerves about Jack.
“ That wasn’t a dream, buddy. ”, a voice speaks from next to his bed, and Mark nearly screams, jumping out of his bed. He looks toward the sound of the voice.
He almost thinks he’s looking into a mirror, but just like Jack and that...creature, there are a few differences between Mark and the man in front of him.
The man was dressed in a suit, and lounged on his chair with a calm arrogance Mark himself did not possess, and did not want to. While Mark’s eyes were a gentle brown and usually full of energy and kindness, the eyes of the man in front of him were an emotionless black. Under the man’s eyes lay a heavy blackness as well, as if the man didn’t sleep much. While Mark could no deny the man was handsome, there was also something that felt terribly dangerous about him.
“W-what do you mean, not a dream? Who are you?”, Mark is relieved he doesn’t stammer much; he doesn’t want the man to know how terrified he was.
“ That was a vision you just had; I know you’ve been wondering what happened to your lover ”, the man tells him, not moving from his relaxed position on Mark’s computer chair.
“What are you talking about, that couldn’t have been real!” Mark exclaims, confusion and panic rising in him. That dream couldn’t have been real...right?
“ Seriously, Mark? ”, the man intones, humor evident in his voice, “A mysterious man appears in your room, and you’re going to argue with him about what’s real?”
“How do you know my name? And I’ll ask again; WHO ARE YOU?!” Mark all but screams at the man, annoyance beginning to seep into his blood.
“I know many things, my dear”
The man says vaguely, moving to stand up.
“How silly of me, allow me to introduce myself,
” He bows, turning his head up and smirking at Mark.
“My name is Dark.”