Y̼̖͙͈̜͑̎ͥ͗͡òͫ̄̔̇҉̼̘̭̫̣͇̝̬u̶̬̩̫͖̻̖ͥ̈́̎ͥ̐̓ͩ͝ͅ ̝̹͕̟͕̻͓͔́͂ͭ̂ͧ͒̆ͪḅ̷͐̅̽̀͊̑͐ͯ́ḙ̠̯̑ͥ̍ͮ̅̏͘͜l̑ͬ͊͏̮̪̮̗͎̭̜̥ǒ̺̤̼͍̟̝̂̈́̒̓̓̇͠n̘̜̓ͧ̆̿͝g̷͔͈̻͎̜̯̟̝̈͛͗̽ ̝̣̥ͥͪ̌͒̎ͩ̒ͣ͝͞t̨̼͖̔̃́͡o̶̙͇̰͕̗͖̩͛ͥ̿͜ ̡͕͚̖͖̰ͬ̄̏ͭṁ̥̩͇̗̮͕̃͋̆͢͜é͕̫̗̄͑̈͌̿͛̕͘͘ ̸̷͇͕̰͇̗̭̦̣̺̍̀n̶͇̎ͪ̾͟ö̹͖̣̙́͒̿ͮ͊w̓ͯ̅͝͏͎͈̦̱
Mark groaned softly as he slowly came to. The first thing he noted was that he was on the ground. It was cold, and hard. Like concrete.
He moved to rub his aching head but found that he could not move his arms, they were secured behind his back. He tried to look around but found only darkness, he tried to blink a few times but to no avail, what he did find however was that fabric rubbed against his face as he furrowed his brow. A blindfold.
Panic quickly began to set in. He couldn't see, he couldn't move. He couldn't remember anything, either.
"Where am I..." he groaned softly to himself. His voice echoed dramatically; wherever he was, it was big. He tried to strain his ears, desperate for any clue as to where he could have been. Nothing. No cars, no nature, the only sound offered was his own panicked breathing.
For an indeterminate period time he lay on the ground, passing through waves of panicked struggle and fearful defeat. His restraints wouldn't budge, and his blindfold was too tight to shift on the ground; he was completely trapped.
As Mark mentally began to retreat into the idea that he would probably die soon, a sound resonated through the space. He cringed, it sounded like a metallic clattering, and it was deafeningly loud compared to the near-total silence he had been previously exposed to.
The sound stopped and he heard a click, a lock. The sound had to have been a door, he thought to himself, a metal door.
Then, Mark heard footsteps. They were not loud, but still as menacing as the sound of a tank approaching.
Adrenaline began rushing through Mark's veins, somebody was approaching. He began pulling against the restraints around his wrists again, thrashing on the ground desperately; the echoes bouncing around him were so disassociating, he couldn't tell if they were right in front of him or on the other end of the room.
Then, the footsteps stopped.
Mark could feel tears beginning to soak into the fabric of the blindfold and he stopped moving. He stopped breathing. Once more, there was silence.
The silence was finally broken by Mark, as he screamed. "Who are you?!" he demanded.
There was no response at first, and then he heard laughter. A sinister, proud chuckle. It was so familiar; God, why was it so familiar? He was sure he had heard that laugh before, though he could not place it, try as he might.
"What do you want with me?" he called, his voice beginning to tremble as his adrenaline left him. He inwardly cursed; he knew he sounded afraid.
His mind began to swim, the darkness mixed with the silence returning was beginning to play tricks with his mind. He desperately tried to think of where he had heard that laugh before.
Suddenly, though he heard and felt no movement, his blindfold fell from his eyes to the ground. The room was so dark, he blinked several times desperately trying to get a better look at his surroundings, but shadows grew too thick to see after a few metres in every direction. The only sight he was met with was a man standing over him, only a few feet back. He did not look particularly villainous, wearing a black hoodie and jeans. The hood was up, and in the darkness Mark could not make out the man's face.
"Please, who are you?" he pleaded, all intimidation lost in his fear.
W͙̼̝h͓̹̩̞̦̫̥y̨̼̤͔ ̱̼̝̼̘͡d҉̘̤̠̟on'̵̮t̨̫̣ ̷̺̜͖y̲̩̟͙̬͎o̩̪͓̞͘u ̩̲̗̜e̥̬̜̣v̲͔͕̘͇e͕̫͇͓͉̬r͓̺͎̕ ̻͜r̝̞͓̠̭̰̟̕e̢̪̖̘̭̱̹ͅm̪̤͖̰é̪̫̼͔̰̫̟m̰͉̺̤̤̘b̹̳̟͢é̻̺͓̲̱͈̭r̮̼͖ ̖̳͚̲̫m̖͞é͖̟̯̪͙͍ͅ,̷͍̖ ͏͉͙͕͇F̨͔̱i͉̳̝̟̗̗͞ś̭̱̫c͉͟hba͕̰̣͓͇͚c̮̱̙̟̤̺h͇̼?̛͎̤̪̤̯
His blood ran cold. That voice... It didn't sound human, it sounded like a choir of demons, all speaking in perfect sync. It was evil incarnate, sounding like it had echoed out straight from Hell itself. But...it was Irish.
Mark stared up, his eyes wide with confusion and fear.
"Jack...?" he whimpered.
More laughter filled the room, this time loud and taunting, it reverberated and echoed, still sounding like many voices at once.
Then it fell silent.
"O̞̦̭̮̜͘f̬̰͍͕̕ c͇̺̦̲̰̦͢ͅo̞̻u͏͚̹r̟̹̦͍͇̳s̷͚̭̬̮e̶ ̩͉͕͈̖͜y̳̙͓̖͎̮͠ọ͔̗u̺̘͘'̹͈̹̪͚͚ͅḏ̸̞͚͇̭̣ ̲t̷̼̳̥͓̫̫ͅh͇͈̫i͉̯̬͢n̥̱k̯̟͓̞͉̱̲ ̟̳̩̲t͉̞͝h̩̘͇͈͙̥̥͝a͓̣̠͇͡t̷͇.̫̝͕̩̹"
He sounded bitter, full of hate. Mark tried to shift his body to sit upright, his eyes never tearing away from his captor.
His brain desperately searching for reason, he continued; "Jack this isn't funny, you really freaked me out."
The ground began to tremble and Mark flinched back downward. The man leaned forward, his face still unidentifiable. Then he pulled his hood down.
Before Mark stood a man, he looked like Jack, but something was off. His hair was darker, flecks of a dark brownish-red matting the green locks together. His skin had cracks like ageing porcelain, starting at his jawline and descending down his throat and upward across his cheekbones. His eyes were blue, but not a clear caring blue like Jack's; these eyes were dark and cloudy, full of hate.
"J͟açk̵ i͝s ҉g͏òne," he snarled, and bore teeth unlike anything vaguely humanoid; they were sharper, with longer canines, like the mouth of a carnivore.
Mark was frozen still, fear and confusion coursing through every inch of his being. This wasn't Jack, but their faces were near identical. He shared Jack's accent, his hair, his body. Mark's stomach dropped as he came to another realisation; they were Jack's clothes, too.
The man stood upright again and began laughing again, though the expression he wore could barely be considered a smile.
"͢Do̶n't p͠l͘a̵y g̷am̧e̡s,̴ you̷ ̡kn͝o͏w̸ w̛h̛o I̛ am,̶ Mark. D̸òn̵'̧t͘ t̀o͢y̛ ̡w͝i̡t̸h̸ yo̴ur ͞o͘wn̛ ͏mo̕r̛ta͘ ̢͘ý͜ ͡͡m̸y͠ ҉҉ń͘͡a̵͠m̨ę̶."̧̕͜
Mark's eyes welled up with fearful tears once more and his mouth went completely dry. He answered only as he knew how; "Jack..." he whispered.
The trembling of the ground grew stronger, and the green haired man lifted his arms. The concrete beneath them both began to crack apart, mirroring the state of the man's face. The echo of the rumbling was almost deafening, and Mark tried to lower an ear into his shoulder.
The man scowled and Mark watched in horror as his eyes began to shift, the black of his pupils spreading and filling his eyes completely. His body and arms contorted, almost vibrating with an unholy speed; the cracks spread further across his face and out onto his hands.
"̴Jack͝ ҉i͝s ̶go͜ne̵!"̕ he roared, "͖̬͘T̜̬͓̙h̰̱͖̱͞i̙͖͇̙͙̠͘s̰̳̟̪̫̠ ̯̫̜͖̫̪ͅi͏s̜̘ ̡̥͉̠͇͕̞m̷͖y̬̙̟ ̵̜͈̙v̼͓̭̹͎e̗̰s̷͚̘s̤̯e̸͎͚̙͔̳̱͙l͏̫̦̘̳ͅ ̻̣͔̖̣ͅn͕o̷̠̮̤̙w͙͕.̷̞̲̰͖̳̫̦ ͕̪̥̞̖H̶̬̤̲̰̘̝è̸̦̣̹͚̻̩̕ ͓͔̻͇̩̞̣̳͇̀w̧͓̯͉̖̹̺̗̕͜ͅa̺̥͙̬̭͢ş̞͕͖̦̣̫̭̟ ̴̦͉̞̱͚w͖̳̰͘ͅe̳̜̺̦a̧҉̧̞̯k̰͔̬̖̖̳͢͡!̨̛͍̘̟̬̘̠̼ J̼̖̗͜͞ͅA̦̺͈͜C̢̛̹̜̬̮̲͇̜͘͟͟K̨̘̼͔̠̩̦̳̀́.̶̤͈̦̩̠̯͉͖̗͈͉̺̱̩̻̕ͅ ̶̨͎̗̩̻̫̮͉͕͓̰̤̦͠Ì̷̹̻̗̘̯̰̦̺̟̝S̢̛̙̥̫͍̖̬̜̩͙̗̘̠̗̥̞͔̕͜ͅ.͏̡̥̺͍̺̪ͅ ̨̤̭̹̝̞̼̜̘̟G̸̶͚̭̖͎̹͞͝ͅǪ̶̴̻͕̫̪͖̺̫͎̦͉̫̟̖̤͎̱̼ͅN̴̸̸͚͍͚͇͙͔͕͇̱͘E͘͏̬̦̲͔͉͕̻̣̞͕͓̫̰ͅ.̵̼͇͈̦̫̠̼̩͕̖̭͕̪͟͟͡"̟̬͇͙͇͠ͅ
Mark let out a low, fearful sob. This man was not human, Mark was sure he wasn't even worldly. Why did he insist that he knew Mark? He insisted he wasn't Jack, and Mark didn't know who else he could be. What did he mean that Jack was gone?
"Where is Jack," Mark cried over the sound of the rumbling ground, "What have you done to him?!" His stomach twisted at the thought of anything happening to his friend. Jack had to be fine.
The creature lowered his arms and stretched a hand out to Mark, and he suddenly felt the restraints on his wrists disappear. With as much speed as he could muster, he pushed himself upright and stood. He stared at the creature for barely a second before turning and running into the darkness, desperate to find an exit.
"̻͈̘̜̠Wh͏̤̙̬e͡r̻̯̤̪̩ͅe̲̫͠ ̡d̼̥̜̼̫̗͡ͅo͖̗ ̬͉̫y̧o̪͈̦̗̙u̶ ̞̺͎th̴̭͇̯̲̥įn̼̙̹̣̻͔͜k̝̳̙̦͡ ̛̘y͙ơ͖̬̗͓̺u̺̬͎̭͘'̹̙͔̖re̼̬̪͜ ̬̖̹̘̖̬g̸̼̙o͇̪̞̱͠i̸̳̜n̳̤̳g̝̯̤̮?̷̙̯̞̲̲"
Mark gasped as he felt his whole body seize up. This was much worse than the wrist restraints before. He was trapped.
In a blink, his captor stood before him. His arms were by his sides, and he stared into Mark's eyes. "What do you want from me?!" he screamed, his throat was tightened and his voice strangled.
The man lifted his hand again, and flicked it in a downward motion. Mark cried out as his body was sent plummeting to the floor.
"͚͇̜̞̝I̘̺̮̤̩͡ ͔̜͍̯̹̳͍w̨͈͚̖͚ąͅnt̙̪̻̼͈̪̗͜ ̲̗̟̳͞t̬̘̩̭͕̳o̞̩̯̮ ̞p̸̬̯̫̱̝l҉̱̣̞̠̹a͏͔̯͈̻̭͔y̯͈͕͟ ̦͇͉̙̱̘̰͝a͍̟̭̭͠ ͓͕̱g͙̩̘͓͎͠ḁ͍m̫̲̟̘͞e̗͉͜.͓̺͎̰̙̬ͅ"̹̰̀
The trembling of the earth ceased. Mark whimpered as he felt his body press further into the ground; it felt like he was going to pass through it if this pressure continued. "Please, just let me leave. Leave Jack alone. Please…" his voice would have been barely audible if not for the echo.
Mark managed to raise his head to look at the man again - unsure if it was through his own willpower, or he'd been granted that movement. He looked less angry, there was almost a look of sadness on his face. His eyes began to shift to their original colour, and the cracks across his hands and face began to retreat back into his skin.
"̛W҉hy̷, ͜M͝a̧rk̶… ̡W̵h̴y͢ d̀on̶'̵t ̷yo̢u ̕év̨er͟ ҉p͝l͘ay ̨w͝it͠h m̨e…͞"
His voice sounded almost normal, like there were only two of him instead of an entire demonic chorus. His voice sounded familiar again; it sounded just like Jack - somewhere in the distortion, there was Jack's voice.
He almost felt guilty, though he could not fathom why. He had been kidnapped by this creature and somehow was being made to feel as though he had done something wrong. A part of him could not shake the likeness to Jack, and even in its foreign offness, it still seemed almost...familiar. Like he had seen it before, somehow.
Oh.
"Anti…?" his voice was barely a whisper. That didn't make any sense, Anti was just a bit that Jack did around Halloween and for horror games. Anti wasn't real, he was just one of Jack's…
The figure looked down at him and smiled, the smile almost felt genuine, even with the jagged teeth and sinister host.
"̥I҉t'̜̠̼̩͎͉͞s͜ ͚̞̺̖͔s͓̺̞o̺̙͙͚̳ ̲̠̰g̦̣͍̺͖o̷̘o͈̣͇d͏̠̪̮̬ ͓͚̟̭͚t̖ọ̸̺͓̯͇̖̥ ̨̱̜̝̱͇̙̝s̹͔̻̬̫̤e̝͝e͕̺̘͘ ̬y̮͔̟̣̯͉o̜͕͎͇̪̰u̪̻̻̭̼͖͞,̘̰ ̬M̶̖̟̥ar̻̗͔̺̯͠k̝͉̮̥̼͙…̼̦̺̺͔̰͚"̨̱͔͉̩