Chapter Text
He was witnessing the great Aspen, the supposed lord and creator of him and his previous family. Hands trembled as he looked up at it, the eyes shifting like waves of the water, making looking at it nauseating yet captivating. A certain glow from it eminated making it physically painful to be in it's presence, the sheer presence was causing him so much agony.
He felt wood burn, smelled the smoke, yet his vocal cords remained tight as he dared not produce a sound lest he upset his lord further. It was judgement, he was going to suffer for turning his back upon the savior.
It finally spoke, the voice abolishing the stillness, and finally Mark screamed and cowered, fear seizing his entire being as he fell to his knees. The voice was both beautiful and painful, shattering his eardrums and stripping him down to his very molecular make up.
"The fault lies within you, had you not turned your back, you would not be here. Now witness the infinitely puny fraction of the suffering that is to come, revel in the fact I allowed you to feel this so you can prepare for your fate."
The mannequin fell, falling for what seemed like an eternity before dropping into a freezing body of water, immediately giving relief to his burning body before it started to freeze his limbs, squeezing and crushing it. He sobbed from unfathomable pain and fear, limbs feeling like tungsten cubes as he tried to stay afloat. Mark's lungs burned from trying to stay up, head barely above water, before it finally submerged and he went under completely.
The light from the surface began to fade, and his panic burned away at his lungs until he could no longer hold his breath and start to drown. Water entered his lungs as the mannequin's mind fogged, a sense of relief washing over as he was finally glad to be passing on, before he fell out of the water.
Mark began free falling once more, hacking and throwing up all the water from his lungs and whatever was left in his empty stomach, before he brutally crashed into the ground. His body shattered into fragments, only being held by a miracle of lord as his entire being was once more in agonizing pain. Mark was fully aware of his surroundings, he was in a grave, and a line of people with shovels was at the foot of it. He recognized each person from the line, all of them had a scary blank expression as they dumped the brown earth on him one by one. People he knew, people he loved, people he had trusted. Mark tried to beg and tell them to stop, to help him, but the mannequin's mouth did not move.
The line grew shorter as he began to panic more, face barely covered, and the final two were two sickeningly familiar faces. His beloved husband, looking at him with such disgust and betrayal that it made Mark's heart sink to his stomach, and Glevil. His cousin looked at peace, a serene smile on his face as he lovingly guided his husband's hand to bury Mark's face as he whispered; "Blessed Be."
Mark was suffocating once more, chest burning from both the lack of oxygen as well as heartbreak from seeing all the people he once knew and loved bury him alive like he did not matter, like he was better off dead. The thought hurt him, but a disturbing part of him agreed with it.
As he blacked out, he started to hear voices of the people he loved. He could move again, and though his body battered, he persevered, crawling towards the heavenly voices of comfort and familiarity until he could see ghostly, heavenly apparitions of them. He heard them better too, louder, and soon he started to make out words.
"...disgusting bastard..."
"Filthy, useless garbage..."
"...better off to rot..."
Mark's heart sunk as he heard each cutting remark about him, and the apparitions turned to finally look down upon him. They quieted down, faces of shame, disgust, annoyance and hatred plastered on, before the talking resumed, pointing out his flaws, weaknesses, mistakes, speaking about how much they despised his very being. Mark's eyes burned as he helplessly listened, each word carving deeper and deeper within his heart, as they grew louder and louder until it blurred together into screams.
He shook as the heavenly looking beings began to rot, turning into piles of maggots that began swarming him and dig into his wooden flesh, and he screamed, and screamed, but no sound came out as maggots began to eat his sickly sweet flesh.
...
Eternity has passed, he's been still for so long, the smell of rot and death is all that filled his nose as the maggots crawling under his skin. Then a red light flowed, revealing another figure, a holy savior, a heavenly being. His face was glitched out, but he dressed like Mark's cousin. He pulled Mark back up, guiding Mark to the light, and Mark, too tired and injured to resist, followed.
The maggots still rattled as he went through, ending up in a classroom that was all too familiar with him. Glevil began to prepare a knife, and before Mark could run Glevil stabbed him. Pain immediately shot up, and he made a pathetic whimper of noise as Glevil cut him open, that same eerie, serene smile and closed eyes on Glevil's face as he almost lovingly scooped the maggots out of Mark's body.
Good things never last as once his body miraculously healed quickly, he started to get beat, his cousin transforming into the religous leader of his childhood, lashings and slaps like he experienced from his religious leader when he was much younger. He began to cry again, remembering the horrible things that happened, the physical and mental torture, the strippings, the cuts, and before the older mannequin began to take advantage of him he woke up in cold sweat.
Mark trembled as he clutched the blanket closer, eyes stinging but tears unwilling to form. His breathing was erratic and his chest felt tight, and before he could throw up all over the bed he scrambled to the bathroom to hurl.
When he was done he hopped back, still weak and shaky and incredibly pale. Wallter stirred and got up, rubbing his eyes, and Mark cursed himself for making a commotion. The last thing he wanted was to alarm anyone, he could deal with this by himself, he didn't need help, he shouldn't need help, he doesn't deserve-
"Mark..?" Wallter's soft, groggy voice rang out as he took in the sight of his terrified husband. He woke up faster, and in a more gentle voice asked, "What's wrong dear?"
"Nothin'!" He snapped back, still afraid, before feeling horrible. Is this how one would treat the love of their life? Is he that horrible, immoral, disgusting, wretched, hurtful of a person? He was a horrible, disgusting and rude person, it's true, it's a miracle anyone stayed-
Wallter got out of bed and knelt beside Mark, not touching the spiraling mannequin just yet lest he wants to scare the poor man.
"Something is clearly wrong now, and I'd like to be able to help you, Mark. Here, let me help you to bed, okay? Let's breathe together." Wallter said, holding out a reassuring hand, and Mark after a bit finally took it. Wallter guided his spouse back to bed, before leaving the bedroom. He reemerged soon after with some water and a small snack, setting it on the bedside. Wallter then climbed back to bed, still not touching his shaking spouse just yet and allowing Mark to calm down and guide the next step.
"... I had anotha' dream. It... I-" Mark felt his throat tighten, unable to find words for anything. He couldn't do anything, couldn't say anything, he's a disgusting, pathetic-
"It's alright, you don't have to tell me if you can't. You're not pathetic, or immoral, or disgusting, you're normal. You can come and tell me on your own time, but now what do you want? I still love you, don't worry, you're not a burden," Wallter's sweet, gentle but firm voice came out, and the last sentence broke a dam in Mark.
Through Mark's tears he finally managed to squeak out the word "hug", and when that plea was met he shook in his spouse's arms, burying his face in his husband's chest. Wallter gently brushed Mark's hair and back, giving reassuring squeezes. After a bit Mark pulled back, much calmer and far more tired.
Wallter wordlessly took the glass of water and handed it to Mark, who graciously accepted and drank it, before Wallter hand fed the mannequin the snack. He then tucked Mark before settling down himself, and before they went to sleep Mark whispered something.
"It feels like I only go backwards, y'know? Everytime I think I got better, got over it, it just... Keeps comin' back. Keep spiraling, keep getting worse, keepimg being a burden, keep-"
"Shhh, no more of that, if you go backwards, I go with you. We'll keep going backwards together, but trust me Mark, you may think you've been going backwards, but in reality you've been going forwards. Think of it like a vine, hm? It spirals around but it's not for nothing, is it? It goes up eventually."