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He was back there again.
The place of pain and suffering.
May as well be hell itself.
Mark doesn't even know why he's back here again, staring down at his wooden hands, and he soon looks around. It was, of course, bright. He felt himself being watched, presumably by his peers or... Something else. A red eye, their eyelashes pointy and sharp. Their yellow pupils glowed as they watched him. It quickly disappeared just as Mark turned his torso around to ensure he wasn't being watched.
The environment was extremely similar, a warehouse of some sort. The floor is an endless array of checker tiles, long grey pipes along the beige walls. Mark used to work in here, he used to dig through the boxes during his free time; He found his iconic yellow construction hat in one of them. A frown crept upon his face as he hopped around, examining his surroundings. "God damnit... Why does this always happen t'me?" He whispered to himself, Mark was extremely nervous.
He soon hopped into the area he was scheduled to work in, his brothers and sisters being carried off to the shredder. Mark didn't mind this, though, he knows what he needs to survive with.
Eating wood, of course.
The wooden mannequin soon thought about it a little more, feeling a bit more uncomfortable now. His kind has to cannibalise to survive, eating wood and drinking tree sap. Thankfully, Mark was one of the stronger ones out of his group. He didn't have to get shredded with his other siblings. Though... When he was younger, they had an unfavourable way of doing it.. Chopping them while they were awake. He was lost in his thoughts, staring down at the control panel to hear what was coming up behind him.
Mark felt a small tap on his shoulder, jolting him out of it.
He soon turns around to find a familiar face.
Their face was glitchy, static, yet they were smiling. They were the same as him except for those differences, freaking Mark out a bit. He knew this person was immediately running for it. "Mark—" They yelled out, frowning as they chased after him. "Get the fuck away fro'me!" He screamed out in terror, tripping and falling right into the shredder. They caught him just in time, trying to pull him up. "Please..." Mark whimpered. He gripped the other's hand, using the leverage to get closer to the fellow.
His left arm rose, his fist balling up as Mark suddenly punched them straight in the eye. That surprising action ended the nightmare.
Wallter was woken up by the sound of shuffling next to him. He groggily sat up, his head slowly turning to where the noise was coming from. Through the darkness and the blurriness of his vision, he could see Mark... Trembling and his teeth grinding together. Wallter quickly turned on the lamp which resided at his right side. His large, grey hands shimmied underneath Mark's head, lifting him slightly. "Mark." He called out, worry written all over his face.
Of course, his husband yelled out in fear. "Get the fuck away fro'me!" Which scared Wallter, now trying to shake him awake. "Mark... Please. Please!" He cried out, shaking him more forcefully with every second that Mark continued to stay asleep. The tall, grey man was a mix of terrified and worried for Mark's well-being. Soon, the wooden mannequin fell limp in Wallter's arms. Mark began to grip his husband's Radiohead shirt he was wearing, his face unreadable.
An audible "Please..." came from him, his southern drawl quiet and scared. Wallter leaned in closer, frowning a bit. He opened his mouth to call out his name. All he saw was a speeding wooden fist coming at his face. The pain shot through Wallter's face, and he bent down and groaned in pain. Mark soon sat up, hyperventilating, and his eyes were wide with fear. He soon saw Wallter in pain, quickly hugging him.
"God damnit! Did I hurt ya, Wallts?" He yelped, tears beginning to flow from the mannequin's eyes.
"No... No... Not that much, Mark..." Wallter grumbled in pain, his face resting in his hands as he slowly straightened his posture.
Mark trembled, taking his large husband's hands into his. He pulled them away from Wallter's face, his eyes widening even more in shock. He has a huge black eye on his left, his face contorted in pain from the sudden movement. "I did hurt ya real bad..." Mark's voice trembled, his eyes averting away from Wallter, and he shuffled away from the poor, hurt fellow. "No, no, Mark. It's okay! No need to start crying, dear!" The grey man uttered, quickly taking Mark onto his lap.
"I did! I did!" He repeated, sobbing into Wallter's shirt, which left huge wet spots on his chest. "Mark! It's okay!" Wallter's tone was a bit more demanding and forceful this time; his hold on his beloved grew tighter after that. "Please don't cry." He soon whispered, Wallter began to rock Mark back and forth as if he were a crying newborn. "What even happened? What possessed you to... Wake up like that, dear?" He asked, tilting his head to look down at Mark.
Mark sniffled, trying his best not to outright sob. "I guess... Just..." He stuttered, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Night terrors," Mark said, taking Wallter's face into his hands. "Please lemme take care of ya first... I got you pretty good, baby." Wallter listened to Mark's request and set the wooden mannequin down. He soon jumped out of bed, quickly hopping over to their kitchen. Wallter soon began to think, rubbing his forehead. His head pounded due to the force that was dealt to his left eye, and he sighed.
Poor, poor Mark. He keeps having these... Nightmares, you could say. Each time, it just keeps getting worse and worse. The first time Wallter slept near Mark, he had them. No wonder he is always tired. Wallter thought, continuing to rest his head against his hand. The grey man soon decided to lie down, resting his head on the pillow, and he did just that. His whole body felt heavy, his head pounding.
Meanwhile, Mark was quickly trying to get an icepack ready for Wallter. He shovelled small ice cubes into a ziplock bag and hopped back to their shared bedroom. "Here you go," Mark mumbled, jumped onto their bed and placed it on Wallter's face. The grey man took the ice pack and placed it on his eye, sighing in relief. The wooden mannequin frowned, noticing the state he was in. "Walltuh," Mark said, lying down next to him. "Hm?" Wallter responded, smiling softly at his husband.
"I'm... Sorry." His voice trembled once again, signalling that he was about to cry. Just as fast as the smile appeared on Wallter's face, a frown appeared when he heard how sad Mark was. "It's not your fault." He said, sighing while staring over at Mark. "It's not your fault that happened to you either," Wallter mumbled, turning his head slightly to face Mark. The wooden mannequin quickly began to cry, moving towards Wallter and hugging him.
"I'm sorry," Mark repeated, sobbing. "No need to be, dear. Please quit saying that, it's not your fault." Wallter murmured, placing the icepack on his nightstand before cuddling Mark. "You're safe now, don't worry." His hand rose to rub the back of Mark's head as Wallter rested next to his husband. The grey man kissed the other's forehead, smoothing the wooden mannequin. Both of them stayed silent. Occasionally, sniffles and quiet whimpers came from Mark.
Both of them were tired from the whole ordeal, considering it was 2 in the morning during this. Wallter moved Mark onto his back, he began to cover him in kisses. Mark giggled, placing his hands on Wallter's broad shoulders. "That tickles!" He uttered, the smile soon returning on his carved face. The grey man pulled back, his eyelids felt heavy once again. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
"'Kay..." Mark mumbled, reaching over to turn the lamp off.
Silence filled the room again, with both of them trying to settle down and fall back to sleep. A strange thought struck Mark, which made him nervous once again. He knew he just had to ask this to relieve his nerves.
"Wallts'?"
"Hm?"
"Would ya... Ever leave m' because of somethin' like this? Or somethin' similar?"
"Of course not, Mark. I must say, until death do us part."
Mark was satisfied with that answer of his, sighing in relief.
"I love ya lots, man."
"I love you more than ever, sweetheart."
Mark smirked, reaching over to cuddle Wallter, his wooden arms barely wrapping around his husband's torso. The grey man smiled back, turning to kiss the wooden mannequin's forehead. The married couple began to drift off into sleep, holding each other tightly. The crimson red eye came back, squinting as they watched them sleep peacefully. Envy was written all over it, soon disappearing in a thick, black smoke.