Chapter Text
In the beginning, it had been static. A dull thrum. A mewling hum in between his ears, and not quite in the center of his head, like a headache.
No, this was more like a sensory deprivation. He heard the thrum he was feeling, saw silver and black flecks in his eyes occasionally, lost connection with his sense of touch and smell, but through the hum of static, he could hear mumbles and grumbles, low and enticing coming from somewhere near him. Mark could never quite place it though, so he ignored it, thought of it as side effects of too many scary indie games, or dehydration, or sleep deprivation. Never took it seriously.
He should have.
Because when it started affecting him, he didn’t notice. When he felt bored, irritated, controlled, energized, silver, transparent flecks reach into his vision. When his frustration got the best of him, he saw wide black flecks that marred his sight. When he was furious, he didn’t see anything.
And those were the bad times. When he didn’t see anything, he also couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t control his voice. But he could think. And what he thought scared the crap out of him.