Mark stared in horror at the note stuck to the outside of his window, written neatly in blue ink. "Wh…What? IS THIS SOME KIND OF SICK JOKE?"
Silence.
"IF THIS IS, IT ISN'T FUNNY!"
Still Silence.
"IS ANYBODY EVEN THERE?"
Literally five seconds later, a loud banging broke the silence. The front door. Mark nearly jumped out of his skin, and was just standing there, staring at the direction the banging came from. The banging started again. Wondering what the hell to do, Mark immediately decided on the wisest thing to do. He crept out of his room, silent as a mouse as he sneaked down the corridors without making a sound, let alone letting anyone know he's there. When he reached the front door, he looked out the peephole, expecting to see a man in a hockey mask with a bloodstained machete.
However, instead, stood the exact opposite. A policeman.
The door unlocked with a soft click as the door opened, while the policeman stared in silence.
"You're him… YOU'RE HIM!"
'Uh… Did I do something wrong?'
The policeman didn't respond. He just stared at Mark with a gigantic smile on his face.
"Okay, calm down… Calm down…"
'Um… Are you okay?'
"AFTER I TELL YOU THE NEWS, CAN I GET YOUR AUTOGRAPH?"
'Sure, just come in and- Wait, WHAT NEWS?'
The policeman's mood changed immediately, from an ecstatic little child to a solemn, depressed look on his face. Mark immediately knew that something had gone wrong, and that feeling worsened when the policeman took his hat off his head and held it on his chest, looking down.
"I'm sorry Markiplier, I'm afraid that your friend Bob has been found in his house, dead."
Mark turned pale. The person who had stuck that sticky note must've been the killer. But still, he refused to tell him what he knew.
'How… How did he die?'
"He was found this evening, around 8 in his studio. We don't know how he died, but we do know that it's been over two days, and we found a note on his computer saying that any one of his friends will be next. But what's the scariest is the look in his eyes. He had his eyes open, and they were blank, but at the same time… filled with emotion if you know what I mean. They seemed to follow the police officers everywhere no matter where they are."
Mark was speechless.
"There hasn't been any sign of any other person in his house at the time of death, even if there was, it still wouldn't explain how the killer- If there was one- had been able to kill him. There were no wounds, and autopsy reports show that he wasn't poisoned. He just… Died."
Mark's heart sank to the bottom of his shoes. He didn't mind seeing his friends dead in video games, but… IRL? No way.
"Oh… I-uh… I don't know what to say." Mark said, getting a lump in his throat.
'I am so, so sorry.'
Silence.
'Well, I'm gonna go back to the station now-'
"No." Mark interrupted.
"Not without my autograph."
The day afterwards, Mark had run out of bread. Bobs funeral was in a few days, and had to get preparations done after he posted a video, telling his fans about the devastation. It was cold that day, around 14 degrees. Sure, to some people that's nothing, but Mark had gotten quite accustomed to the hot weather of LA.
Everything was going well, until he realised something.
He forgot to bring his wallet.
Just as he was about to turn back and get his wallet, something chilled him to the bone.
"Escuse me sir…"
Because of all the horror games he played, Marks mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. Adrenaline and fear froze him on the spot as he turned towards the dark alleyway that the voice came from.
"You need a few dollars, right?"
Mark was still silent and chilled to the bone.
A pre-teen girl walked out of the alleyway, nothing but skin and bones with pure white hair and eyes that shade of blue that can make people get lost swimming in that never-ending void. The only clothes she was wearing was a dirty white dress reaching to her knees.
Despite the fact that she looked relatively harmless, Mark still had an uneasy feeling.
The girl tossed a few coins to Mark, and he caught them effortlessly.
"So Mark." She smiled.
"I see you got my note."