A/N: So sort of a sequel to Glitching? I got some really awesome, lovely comments there, plus learned some additional things about Anti (I started watching his videos about a year ago, but really only joined the JSE fandom in January, so yes I'm new smol fan).
His Party Hard, and Sara Is Missing play through a inspired this to a degree. I picked up that he made Anti in relation to discomfort with the whole Glitching/over shoulders sort of thing (which is why I lean more towards him being a part of Jack's personality and not just a demon), but liked how he mentioned the heavy breathing and stuff.
So, like I said in the other story, I'm hesitant to write about real people, and this doesn't fully follow my Anti theory - it's just how I imagine it could potentially play out in such a scenario.
So to recap: Jack, Mark, and some other miscellaneous YouTubers (like Dan and Phil, or maybe Felix or Cry - I don't know any others very well besides D&P, JSE, and sorta Mark. Gonna start watching Cry soon.) are stuck inside a virtual world. They had either been tricked (or, less likely, kidnapped), and uploaded into scanners to try out a new virtual world (think Code Lyoko). As soon as they're in, the Director and his team reveal that in this virtual world, they feel everything that happens to them. They get hungry and thirsty, though they do not need to actual eat or drink. And if they get injured, it carries over. And if they die, their bodies cannot be taken from their "files".
They are presented with the challenge; get through all Ten levels of the game. Whether it is for research, sick amusement, or vendetta on the Director's part is left unknown. Luckily, those sent in are a formidable group.
Unluckily, the game is rigged against them.
In this little concept, Jack/Sean had a problem while being 'uploaded' - his 'file' was 'corrupted' leaving him with odd moments of dissassociation and random bouts of unexplainable anger. At one point, after many relentless attacks, something happens and he 'glitches' out. When this happens, he's basically himself splintered into a personality without morality, cruel, enjoys violence/pain, possessive of what's 'his', etc. In a way, he's not even really Jack - although he also is. (This delves more towards Split personality I believe but I will refrain from using that term since I've done no research nor want to cause offense - hence a "splinter", "fragment", or "part" of his personality.
Jack is fully aware of when this occurs; when "Anti takes over". But he's faded, disassociated from himself. Once he "comes back to himself" he becomes horrified at his actions.
Eh I'm rambling and not making sense probably; it's almost midnight and I wanted to give background info since I'm not writing a full story.
Reply to Guest review on Glitching: I don't really know much about Darkiplier, except from secondhand sources, so at the moment, no, I won't be writing about Dark. But we'll see what the future brings. Thank you for reviewing!
Echoing
It's a hissing, gurgling sound deep in his chest as he sleeps; a brushing, set of whispered words in his ear; the feeling of flinching down and burrowing as far as he can into his maroon jacket, jaw line pressing into his shoulders as he tries to cover his ears.
It's him but it's not him.
It's his voice, his body, his thoughts; but he knows - knows - he would never think like this. Do these things.
He wasn't a murderer.
He wasn't.
But he sees Mark and the others' expressions. He's not the only one affected by this, he knows (God, he knows) but it still hurts all the same.
There's something wrong with him.
He killed four men.
And most of the time he doesn't regret it.
He remembers their expressions, just as cruel when they were about to kill them all; quickly morphing into absolute terror and fear as though they were facing some corrupted being.
Part of him tugs and pulls when he thinks about it; teeth pulling into a snarl and eyes hardening, expression easily changing and morphing into a smile of all things as his fingers wrap around the knife that hasn't left his side since.
And this isn't him, can't be him - this (murderer) killer.
And he sometimes feels like his thoughts are splitting, branching; echoes overlapping each other's to the point of distortion as he wildly changes from want and must and can't-
Sometimes his body flickers, glitches, and he has to hold on with all his might before he falls back into the other-him. Falls back into the itching kill kill hurt make them hurt they deserve it-
(It's fair warning, though; Mark, who was willing to talk to him about . . .what happened, at least more than anyone else, tells him about how not only his body but also his name display glitched as he ran around laughing and slaughte-)
(They get a fair warning to back away from him, the next time it happens, anyway.)
But even when he's. . . normal - when he's himself - there's a ragged, whispered voice in his mind, sometimes crooning in his ear - usually glitching and staticy, and rarely, gurgling as though it's throat has been torn out;
'It's not like they hadn't deserved it - hell, they had it coming. After all. . .
it's all their fault. They chose to lock us all in here, cheating too.
Plus. . .
it was awful fun.'
He shakes the thought away, trying to dispel the echo of his own laughter. He squeezes his green eyes shut to the point of seeing static.
His fingers are curled tightly into fists, sleeves pulled over the palms of his hands resulting in the fabric being clenched roughly, barely enough to save flesh from worn-down nails biting into it.
"Jack? Buddy? Ya ready to go?"
He looks up, blue eyes wide as he sees Mark. He stares at his friend a moment, returning to himself. Then he nods, once.
They were on the fourth level and needed to beat the tenth if they were to go home.
(He would make sure everyone got home.
No matter what.)
