You decide, rather miserably, that the best thing to do now would be to keep him talking. The wild look in his eyes terrifies you, and it can only be described as insatiable hunger.
"Who are you?" You are rather impressed by how even your tone is, in reality you are on the verge of tears.
Anti falters his staring to glitch into a side smile, an act that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
"I'm Anti," he mock-bows, keeping you securely held against the wardrobe. "I'm Jack, and I've been waiting so long for this moment."
You must've looked confused, and harbored an 'oh, please tell me more' look, because Anti leans back slightly to grin at you with a bemused expression.
"What? Do you think the person you see in the mirror every fucking day, is you?"
What you assume is laughter echoes from his mouth, it's a long, whining squeal that reverberates around the room.
"We just know how to hide," Anti leans in and whispers. "We know that humans accept the reality they're given. You see a figure at night in the bathroom mirror, staring at you, eyes dark and hollow, and you assume it's just you. Sometimes you catch us, we blink, we breathe, we smile; even after that you just shake your head and blame it on yourself."
You feel a cold chill run the length of your spine, lingering at the very base of your neck.
This demon is suggesting that your reality is wrong, and involuntarily your mind is thrown back to otherwise insignificant memories.
Midnight in your old bathroom, you catch movement in the mirror above you.
Walking past a cafe, you think you see the figure adjacent to you skip a step in the window.
The only thing scarier than being told a crazy theory, is finding proof in your own life.
As if he can sense the oncoming dread that floods your veins, Anti laughs again and looms over you.
"You know me," He chuckles with a mechanic squeal. "We've been trapped in this house together for so long. Dark's been here too, at times, but he doesn't have what we have."
His green-hued hand glitches to your cheek, and he scrapes a line from your cheekbone down to the base of your neck, pressing forcefully against the dip in your collarbone.
You shiver involuntarily.
"You can come out." He sings quietly, gazing down at you with a mixture of emotions. "I'll free you, and you can come out."
With that, Anti drops his head low to press against you in an unexpected kiss. Unlike Demon-Mark, Anti isn't soft and inviting, he doesn't smile against your lips and gently curl his fingers around the back of your neck. Anti is an 'angry kisser', to put it exceptionally mildly.
He cuts at your lip until he draws blood and forcibly tastes every inch of your mouth, an act that can only be described as dominating.
You try to keep your mind on the issue at hand, but suddenly your thoughts are not unlike the squeal that echoes from Anti's voice. You find it hard to form an intelligible thought.
Run. Escape. Fight.
You barely remember these concepts as Anti travels from your swollen lips to the soft skin under your ear. He presses a hot, messy kiss against you, and before long you feel the dull pain of his teeth digging into you again.
"So fucking long," He angrily murmurs between the motions of kissing and biting. "I've waited so fucking long for this, for you."
Something about this phrase brings you back to reality, like being dunked with a bucket of ice water. It's Jack, it's the person you've been awkwardly flirting with for years, the person you've grown to admire, the person you've grown to love.
Maybe, just maybe, Jack feels the same way about you.
It's a long shot, but you decide it's better than nothing. You gently tug your hands downward, unsurprisingly, Anti lets go; at this point he has you forced against the wardrobe with his entire body. You slowly tangle your hands in his green mess of curls and lift his face against yours.
Anti seems pleasantly surprised by your cooperation, and he smiles down at you softly, waiting to see your next move.
You don't kiss him, you just press your forehead against his and try to keep your voice from trembling.
"Jack."
You whisper, Anti doesn't react, you take this as a good sign and try again.
"Jack, it's me." You kiss him now, soft and slow, trying to channel all your emotions into the action. "It's me, you know me."
You think you see him flinch, then again it might just be another glitch. Anti doesn't break the kiss, but he presses against you with more force as if trying to stifle your words.
"Jack," You barely manage to articulate against his lips. "It's me, please, come back."
Anti begins to shake slightly, and he drops his head into the crook of your neck.
"Jack is dead." He sings into your shoulder softly. "Dark killed him, he's never coming back."
You clear your throat and refuse to let the hot tears spill from your eyes; If he really was dead, Anti wouldn't look so scared.
"No," You mutter against his hair, breathing him in, trying to go back to fond memories of late-night gaming sessions and Sunday pancakes. "Jack's not dead, he's here, and I love him."
Suddenly, Anti clutches at your shoulders and throws you across the room like you weigh nothing. You hit the wall with a crack and a groan, and slide down the plaster until you're sitting upright against the floor.
"Jack is dead!" Anti howls, his eyes dark and wild like a thunderstorm.
Your chest aches and your head is dizzy from colliding with the wall, you wipe at the blood that oozes down your chin and try to form a sentence despite the pain.
"You heard me, Jack," You splutter. "I love you, I have for a long time. You're still here, you're still here to save me, like you tried to save me from Mark."
Anti's head is glitching wildly from side to side, his entire body is rippling with green static.
"Fine." He shrieks, his voice shriller than you remember it. "We'll do it like this, I don't mind."
Anti's empty palm shudders with static, and a long, gleaming knife is suddenly in his grasp. You try to get to your feet, try to kick off the wall and run, but you're tired and in excruciating pain.
You sob quietly and let your head roll backwards against the wall, you watch Anti approach through your eyelashes.
"Jack." You mutter, one final attempt.
"Jack, please?"
Anti crouches low beside you and presses the knife against the side of your throat. You feel it penetrate the delicate skin, and a single stream of blood runs down the blade.
You close your eyes and wait, sure enough you feel the white-hot pain of the knife slicing through flesh. You squirm, you cry out, you try to push him away with whatever strength you can muster, and then the pain stops.
It's silent.
You pry open one of your eyes and try to blink away the blur from the tears. Anti is still opposite you, the knife held close to his face, his expression is dull and faraway.
"No." He wheezes without moving or blinking, his eyebrows furrow slightly, as if in a considerable amount of pain.
"No, not this, anything but this."
The knife falls to the floor with a clatter, you flinch at the sudden noise.
His hand finds the cut on the side of your neck, and he presses against it to stem the blood flow.
"Jack?" You manage in a trembling voice, not daring to hope. "J-Jack, is that you?"
He chokes on a sob and gently leans into you, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. It's an action you recognize from years of experience, when you felt exceptionally down, Jack would smile and kiss your forehead with so much affection that you momentarily forgot how to breathe.
"It's me." He replies with a shaky voice. "It's me, I'm so sorry."
You smile, despite everything, and properly take in his appearance; his eyes are bloodshot and dark-rimmed, but still a beautiful sky blue. His neck is whole and painted in obvious fake blood, his skin is pale but pink-tinged rather than green.
"Oh my god!" You sob properly this time, and wrap your arms around his neck in a sudden burst of euphoric energy.
"He was- and then I- but I knew you would- I mean, I was almost-"
Words fail you, and Jack lets you stammer and cry against his shoulder for a long time. He rubs your back soothingly and mutters "I know, it's okay."
He finally pulls away, and regards you with a sheepish grin.
"Did you mean it? What you said?"
You laugh and shake your head.
"Is now really the time?" You ask in a disbelieving tone, he catches your chin and dips his head to press his lips firmly against yours.
"Who would've thought," He smiles against you. "That it would've taken murderous demons for us to finally admit to it."
You enjoy the kiss for a while, it's soft and sweet like a slow dance, but something nags the back of your mind.
"What happened to Mark?" You whisper, and gently break the kiss. Jack's mouth presses into a firm line and he glances away in shame.
"I...I don't really know," He mutters. "He was there, and then there was this burst of light and sound, like glass breaking, and he was gone."
You frown, and decide to finally try and get to your feet.
"Something's wrong."
You limp past Jack and down the hall, adrenaline picks up your speed and before long you're in a flat-out sprint.
Something tells you the bathroom is your best bet, so you turn up the stairs and push open the white door. Moonlight still drenches the room in a blueish light, and you stare at the scene before you.
The mirror is untouched, it's smooth surface immaculate. Nothing in the room would even suggest that a demon had exploded from the glass.
"What the Hell?" You turn on the spot slowly, trying to make sense of it. Jack has appeared at the door and regards the room with a scowl.
"How did..."
You're cut off by a dull knocking sound, you turn quickly to the window. It takes a second knock to finally draw your attention to the true source of the noise, as the sound echoes from the mirror again.
You frown and side step until you're directly in front of the smooth glass. You study your own reflection carefully, it copies your movements without fault.
"What the-?" You drag your gaze across the reflection, the empty bathtub, cup of toothbrushes, hair comb, laundry basket. Finally, you're gaze rests on Jack in the reflection, his lean form watching you from the door way.
His gaze is frightened, his mouth is opening and closing as if in muted screams. He is mouthing at you, tears streaming from his blue eyes.
"Jack?" You say quietly, not turning from the mirror. "Jack, how do I know it's really you out here with me?"
Too late, the reflection's warnings couldn't save you. Anti grabs the back of your head and leans his face against yours. You can only see the reflection, you can only see Jack shouting at you.
"Run!"
Anti laughs loudly, the squeals reverberating around the small room, and throws your head against the glass. You hit the mirror and expect it to crack, expect your head to split open; but what follows is infinitely worse.
Silence. Long, cold, hollow silence. And then, the soft knock of knuckle against glass.
THE END