"There is no Light without a Dark"
A long day of recording Five Nights at Freddy's and mostly failing deserved a nice long sleep. Mark walked into his room and changed into his logo pajama pants. He made his way into the bathroom, turned on the light and leaned on the counter.
He looked at his reflection and swore he saw dark circles around his eyes, but when he blinked, they were gone. He proceeded to take off his glasses and wash his face, thinking nothing of it. Thinking maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him from all those horror games.
After wiping off his face he turned off the light and climbed into bed. He reached for his Tiny Box Tim plushie, cuddled it, put his glasses on the night stand and turned off the light. Left in the dark, and his thoughts, Mark tried to sleep.
In his dream, he quickly identified the security screen of Five Nights at Freddy's. He didn't dare look up from the screen. Instead he looked at the difference screens recording the different areas of the building. Pirate's Cove hadn't moved. Ducky was in her place, as were the others.
"They won't move, Mark." He heard his voice speak to him.
Mark looked up and froze. He was looking at himself, but red eyes instead of brown.
"They're scared of me." He continued. "And they should be."
"Who are you?" Mark asked after a moment of silence.
"I am you," He replied, cocking his head to one side, smiling. "But I'm Dark, the dark version of you." He leaned back onto the table the phone sat on. "But I'm not the worst one." Dark looked at the door on the left.
Mark couldn't move. The lights shut off and the sounds of power fell silent. All Mark could do is stare at the empty, dark doorway until the all too familiar theme song started playing in sync to the blinking eyes of Foxy.
Dark stared through the doorway as well, but was free to move. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down. He let out a partial laugh. "Come on, if you want to scare him, scare him." He spoke over the theme song that soon morphed into a demented skipping song.
Unable to move, Mark watched as the white lights of the face turned black with red pupils and the smile turned into a much scarier smile. The eyes blinked at him.
Stepping into the room, this form, this version of Mark held the head of Freddie himself. The head had been brutally ripped off by this version of Mark. Oil was dripping from wires and all over his hands like it had just been done.
This version of Mark spoke with a very deep, scary voice. It was a tone that Mark hadn't been able to make himself.
"Hello, Mark." He faced Mark and held onto the head. "You've met my friend, Dark. And he's right. I'm the one that should scare you."
The theme song slowly played again. Dark left the room and was soon followed by the Mark carrying Freddy's head.
Left in the dark once more, Mark's head was forcibly turned to the door and couldn't move as the theme song played at normal speed. Foxy's face lit up and blinked with the song, which was over quickly.
Mark knew what was next in the darkness. A loud metallic screech and then game over.
The silence seemed never-ending. Each tense moment passed slower than the previous.
"Run!" Foxy's screech echoed around the room and he turned from the doorway then ran back down the hall.
Mark sprung up in his bed. His arm wrapped around his little biscuit and he fumbled around for the light switch. He sat in bed and tried to calm down. He leaned on his arm and breathed until his heart rate dropped back down.
"Maybe I played that game too much," he tried to reason with himself.
He took a deep breath and relaxed into the comfort of his bed covers. Holding Tim tight to his chest, he rolled onto his side and tried to sleep again.
He was successful in finding unconsciousness, but he wasn't alone.
This dream let him look up at the ceiling. He glanced around and identified the fire place, green chair and dark red wall paper from Amnesia. He moved like the character did in the game, smoothly in an unrealistic reality.
The fire place brightened up the room enough so Mark could locate the lantern on the table. He picked up the oil as well, out of habit.
Each step towards the door was one Mark didn't want to take. Through many of the games, he knew the endings, how the game worked and what to expect.
But like the last nightmare, he couldn't simply wake up and get out of it. He had to play the game. He stared at the door and the soft glow of the fire was blown out by the wind rushing through it as is slowly opened.
Mark held up the lantern to light his path. He took a last glance around the room, he usually forgets something.
He spotted a small wooden box in the corner of the room by the foot of the dresser by the bed.
"Tim!" He rushed over and picked up the small item. As he held the small box, its eyes opened to reveal large blue eyes. A small smile formed below the eyes.
"I'll protect you Mark." Tim said in a quiet but affirmative voice. His little arms had stubby hands on the end that reached out for Mark's face.
Mark held him close and curled him in his arm to carry him safely. Mark knew he could move on now so he left the room and entered the dark hallway. One way led to a dead end, the other branched off into the rest of the mansion. He held his lantern up and walked down the dark hallway.
The walls displayed pictures of scratched faces. Something had scratched them. The frame had marks on it too, from whatever did that.
"Keep moving," Tim whispered, making Marks arm tighten around him. Tim put his little hands on Mark's and looked ahead into the darkness then hid behind his hand.
Mark looked away from the painting and down the hall. Something moved from one side to the other. He took a step back and his leg hit a chair that slammed into the wall. The impact echoed down the hall. He let out a startled scream and stood still.
"Be quiet. You don't want them to find you." Tim said a bit louder.
Actually being in the game was very different from just playing. Mark usually jumps from his own shadow or screams until the thing goes away. He couldn't do that here. They could hear him from across the mansion. They could find him. Whoever they were.
When the mansion was silent once more, Mark moved again and stopped where the object moved. He turned to where it came from. He saw what Foxy just told him in his other nightmare.
It was written on the wall. It looked like it was written in blood. It dripped down the wall and pooled on the floor.
"What am I running from?" Mark wondered out loud. He turned around and bumped into something. He jumped back and stared at the golden mannequin that had moved in right behind him. He almost let out another scream. But it didn't move. Mark didn't want it to. He didn't take his eyes off it as he moved passed.
He turned tensely into the big room. The middle of the second floor had the staircase reaching down to the first floor and faced the pair of giant wood and steel doors. A lightning flash lit up the room and revealed a fox-like statue in the corner. It was standing up.
Mark moved again, bumped into the mannequin again and stepped back several feet, desperately suppressing the muffled scream of fear.
The face now had red eyes and the cruel smile from before.
Metallic screeching came from the corner as the fox ran passed Mark only to be thrown by the mannequin into the wall and onto the ground, never to move again.
"Finally," The voice spoke from the mannequin through his sharp teeth.
Mark froze, barely feeling Tim tug at his fingers. His fear of mannequins struck him more now than before. Mark backed up and tripped on the table, falling onto it and shattering it into long awkward, sharp pieces. Tim flew from his hands and landed somewhere in the darkness.
He looked out into the living room from where he lay. He tried not to scream as a sharp stabbing pain emanated from his lower back. He felt a pool of warm liquid grow on the ground by this pain. He barely held back the scream he desperately wanted to release.
A bright glow swallowed the darkness, causing the mannequin to shield his eyes. Mark could barely move and couldn't react when two feet thundered into their spot behind him.
"You have part of a table sticking out of your back." The strong voice said. Mark felt his hand on his shoulder, next came the yank but no pain followed. "Stand up." This man said, practically picking up Mark.
Mark stood next to this new version of himself. The pink caped hero stood beside him, partially supporting him. His hand held onto Mark's back where the wood was pulled from. Slowly the pain went away.
"Where were you hiding?" The mannequin shouted, distracting the man from his work.
He let go of Mark and let him balance on his own. Stepping forward, he landed hard on the ground causing the room to shake. The new Mark swung the wood he pulled from Mark and threw the mannequin into the wall.
He turned to Mark and let Mark look at him. "I am the Hero within you. Heroplier, i guess. But you can call me Hero." Mark looked at Hero's outfit of a skin tight black outfit covering all of him up to his neck. The cape matched the boots, and stereo typical superhero underwear on the outside of his pants. The warfshache had been placed on his chest.
"Yes, the warfstache is our hero logo." Hero commented.
"Like on my pants," Mark said, lifting one leg to show him.
"You aren't wearing pants, Mark." Hero told him.
"This IS a nightmare!" Mark yelled.
"Mark, be quiet!" Tiny Box Tim spoke from behind Hero's boot. Hero picked him up and held him out to Mark.
"You need him more than I do." Hero handed over the caped box to Mark who tucked him away like before.
Hero braced himself and lunged behind Mark, stopping the attack that Mark was pushed from. Mark turned around and saw Hero holding the arms of the mannequin, braced where they had almost hit Mark.
Mark watched as Hero look back at him; he watched his face drop as Mark's arms were grabbed and twisted behind him. He was shoved to the ground and Tim was kicked out of his hand. Mark let out a scream as this figure yanked him to the floor, pinning him there with a chain looped through the floor.
This figure moved around Mark and faced him. Mark looked up at the white pupils in the black iris with normal eyes engulfed in a black circles surrounded by a dark haze. Dark's smile didn't quite match the one on the mannequin.
Lightning flashed through the windows again, lighting up the scene. Rain soon followed. It pounded on the glass, threatening to break it.
Hero swung his arm over the mannequin's neck and ripped the helmet off and it fell to the floor.
"I'm done with that anyway," Dark said as he waved his arm, moving the mannequin across the room. Dark looked down at Mark, "I'm your worst nightmare, Mark, but I'm not the worst one here."
Hero walked over to stand next to Mark. A growl came from Dark. He looked down at his stomach then up at Mark. A cruel smile spread across his teeth, "If you weren't always hungry," Dark lifted his white shirt. "He wouldn't exist." As he lifted the shirt, he revealed a demonic smile of sharp teeth that opened slightly, letting the pointed tongue slither through then receded back inside. The teeth shut and Dark put his shirt down.
Dark kept his eyes on Mark. The haze around his eyes flowed out into the air. Hero put his hand on Mark's shoulder, enabling him to stand and move behind Hero.
"I'm not here for you," Dark said, tilting his head. "I'm here for him."
"You'll have to go through us!" A cute voice said from another version of Mark. The bright blue eyes were still there but the rest mimicked Hero, like a side kick. He was shorter as well.
Another flash of lighting shot across the window.
"Okay," Dark said nonchalantly from behind Mark.
Hero looked back, shocked, and Tim jumped forward, landing between Dark and Mark. Dark shoved his darkness engulfed hand through Tim's chest. Tim let out a sound that echoed the agonizing pain shooting through his core. Dark's hand came out through Tim's back and he threw Tim to the other side of the room. His body landed on big wooden boxes, breaking them and leaving the shattered remains to cover the body.
"Tim!" Hero cried.
"No!" Mark screamed helplessly from where he was chained to the floor. He arched his back to see where Tim fell. He turned to Hero with sadness written all over his face.
"One down," Dark taunted, holding his hand up to Mark's face. "One to go."
Hero continued to separate Mark from Dark. Dark was ready to strike but he backed off a moment later.
Dark didn't take his eyes off Mark, "I will get you." His voice faded with his body.
A few moments of silence passed before Dark's voice came again from the second floor by the stairs. "We will get you." He said loudly and several demonic smiles moved on all the walls, including the ceiling and floor.
Hero didn't move. Neither did Tim. Mark looked around the best he could to look at Dark. "What do you want from me?" He yelled as the chains tightened, pressing his face into the floor.
Dark's eyes landed on him, he smiled and jumped from the railing, hovered near Mark and pulled him from the chain. He dropped Mark onto his back and pointed at his chest, standing over him. "Your soul," Dark said as his black haze engulfed Mark. The last thing he saw was Hero walking over to Tim.