All His Fault
In the large mansion, isolated from the bustling city, a place was covered in mystery, a place was covered in death. On these grounds, an atmosphere so thick laid like a blanket around the house, suffocating the people in it.
One shouts so loud that the people outside- the butler, chef, and gardener- cringe in hurt. They know what is real. They pack their backs and get ready to get out. They know what is happening. One, sadly, is still shrouded from it.
William shouts as loud as his lungs could give.
“Damien? Celine? Come out! You got me! This was an elaborate prank, you got me, now, come out!”
At first, it was a call for them, come on, pleasepleasepleasecomeout. No one’s dead, right? But as time went on, it was becoming a chant. A chant of his heart, for his mind, to keep working, keep moving, keep calling. They’re not dead. They’re playing a prank.
“Come on William.” He whispered to himself, fiddling with his lenses. “Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it. D-Don’t…” He swallowed, a sharp short pain in his dry throat. “They’re not dead. Come on! Damien! Celine-!”
“William.” A voice calls from his back, and he looked at the corner of his eyes. A cracked mirror. His friend, reflected on the smooth, jagged surface. A look of anger, vengeance, burning. “Stop.”
“You don’t understand, Mark.” He grits out in a faux happy tune, but both knew it was fake as it can get. “Those two- they were— are, my friends. For years! And you know they love pranks. They’ve got to get out soon!”
The other man steps forward, and it was only this time did William register the familiar cane in his hands. A surge of disbelief ran through him, and blindly, as if his body knew what his mind wanted to do before it instructed him, walked briskly towards the other and snatched the cane, clutching it close to his chest.
“This- this isn’t yours. It’s Damien’s. Not. Not yours.” He stammered, not knowing why. Was it anger? Disbelief? Or was he hurting already? What did it feel to hurt? “You’re not supposed to hold it. It’s his. Mayor’s.”
“You shut your mouth!” He retaliated, hands shaking, and he felt his body drop. ‘Stop.’ He yelled desperately in his mind, a slow hysterical feel creeping in his internal voice. ‘Stand tall! At ease! Parade rest! God fucking-‘
A firm hand landed on his shoulder. A familiar touch, yet not so. It felt cold, as if owner’s anger that he was feeling was ice-hot. William blinked the tears from his eyes, and removed his glasses, drying the tears on them. And-how peculiar was that. He was on his knees. When was he on his knees? Did he do something wrong?
“Did I kill them?” He asked no one, no one in particular, absolutely removing anyone around him from his midst. He was alone in this room, wasn’t he? Or was the man behind him, no, not just a man, Mark, behind him? “No, no, I didn’t, right? Mark’s alive?”
“Oh god. Oh god. Goodness gracious. I thought- and Celine, and Damien, and-and-and, and Y/N, right, I didn’t kill them?” He tried to stand, but his knees were too wobbly, and he had to balance himself upright. “Mark, I didn’t kill them?”
Mark didn’t answer. The anger that was projected on his face earlier waned, morphing into something drastic, pitying, hurting, all at once. “William- I, I’m trying to tell you, please, listen-“
William’s smile grew, a painful one, and his eyes, oh his eyes, filling up with hot tears.
“Mark, I didn’t kill them?!” He asked once more, and he stumbled, losing grip. He stared at the cane first before looking up at the other’s face. “T-Tell me, you’re alive?”
“I-“ Mark brought his hand up to his face, massaging his nose. “It’s hard to explain, but yes, I am alive, but- but not in the way that I used to be. William.” He bent down and gripped the steadily hysterical man. “William, listen to me. I am alive. But I- I am Celine. I am Damien. We’re both here, but- but we’re dead, William. Do you understand?”
The man stared at him, and Dark, who had been just letting his anger reign himself in, bit his lip, seeing the absolute pain in his eyes. Celine and Damien, in his conscious, struggled, gasped. Both tried to control themselves to project the man they wanted to take vengeance as.
Then they heard the ramblings. The ramblings, by god, the ramblings, they figured out, my god, where was their friend going?
“D-Damien in the body? C-Celine in the body? That’s- that’s great! They’re not dead! Mark’s not alive! That’s even greater! No one’s dead! No one’s dead! F-Fuck, no one’s dead!
However when they saw their childhood friend break, absolutely break, Dark knelt, and shed a few tears.
“William, please.” He looked at his friend. “William-“
The other man stood up, fast as lightning, and shouted upwards. “No one’s dead! They’re all alive! Hah! G-Good one, good one!” He smiled, a painstaking, hysterical, twisted, and deranged smile. “That must be pretty harsh! To be there in there! What do you call yourselves?”
In a small, but relenting voice, he whispered, “Dark.” And he winced at the bigger smile that took over his friend’s face. “William, do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“Yes!” He smiled, and- were those tears? Tears of a man so far from reality. Tears from a man who can’t accept reality and forged his own. Tears that signified the great loss of a man.
Dark stood up, and looked at him, with baited breath. Celine and Damien’s friend’s sanity was long gone. In a broken giggle, William beamed widely.
“No one’s dead! No one is dead!”
And that was the final straw for Damien. In Dark’s mind, he paced gripped his lapels as hard as he can, and grinded out through his teeth his words.
“He fucking did this to him! Look at him! Fuck, Celine!” He demanded, and Celine watched his tirade, eyes widening as she saw the anger overtake him. “He took everything away from us! He took me. I could deal with that. He took you, and I couldn’t. But- but William! The man was damaged enough as it is! That fucking son of a bitch-“
“Don’t Damien please me, Celine!” His voice was getting higher. “No matter what we could do, magic arts or not, there is no way with helping William anymore! All he sees is Dark, Mark’s face, accommodating us, and we don’t have any way to show him that we’re here. He doesn’t comprehend it!” He yelled, watching her reactions. “You cannot tell me that I shouldn’t destroy his work, his loved ones, his life! Look at how he destroyed him without an ounce of thought!”
Celine bit her lip and exhaled. “Damien. I-“
A gunshot suddenly brought them out of their reverie. Dark blinked, looking at the scene in front of him. A bullet, on the floor, punctured. William, with a gun on his hand, looking lost, like a child without their parents. His eyes wide, he turned a questioning look at the other, who smiled in response.
“You weren’t responding to me.” He laughed, and something unsettling was in his eyes. “I just wanted to check if you were still there. With me. Alive.” He put the gun in his holster. “Y-You weren’t moving, and I know I didn’t put a bullet in you, so you couldn’t have died- but you weren’t moving anymore, so I figured, why not put a bullet on you?” He chuckled even louder. “That seems to bring people alive!”
Dark chose to be silent, and Celine could
only sob in her hands, as Damien stood up tall in Dark’s subconscious,
unyielding, and hateful. He watched his childhood friend, his comrade, the man he had grew up with, the man he sought out in times of trouble, break as if he was just a plaything; crumble, as if his sanity was just an insignificant sand in the wind; and disappear into a pit of madness, right before his eyes.
He commanded Dark’s body to stand, and hug the other man, whispering reassurances that he was alive. William would nod and whisper “No one’s dead” again and again, further angering Dark.
This was all Mark’s fault. This was all Mark’s fault. Mark’s fault. Mark’s fault.
And he will pay.
So. What do you guys think? Hope you like it! Comments will be appreciated ahaaaa