I tried to write a thing! I worked hard on it so I hope it’s good! Here we go.
The Irish, green-haired YouTuber flinched at the sound of his name. How long had he zoned out for? He swallowed before he replied, removing his hand from his mouth cautiously.
“Y-yeah? Sorry I’m kinda quiet.” As everyone this side of the Internet knows, this was far from normal for the usually loud jacksepticeye. It’s what he’s known for, after all, so he knew his friends would pick up on it if he was silent for too long. Especially if everyone else is talking.
“Nah, it’s fine, man. Are you okay? We were afraid you fell asleep on us or something.” Mark’s voice. As much as Jack wanted to shout “SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK” into the mic, he could barely bring himself to open his mouth, for fear he would be sick on himself in front of his friends (well, more or less, considering they were all just talking through the computer). He was fine all day up until halfway through playing, when he got a sudden, powerful surge of nausea out of nowhere. It’s a feeling he absolutely hated. He sucked in a labored breath and attempted once again to speak.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I dunno I just…I feel kinda sick. It’s weird because…” he paused to swallow and quickly covered his mouth with his hand as bile rose in his throat. He shivered as it went back down. “…I was fine all day until now.”
“It’s fine. Just take it easy, alright? Let us know if you need to take a break,” Mark reassured.
“Yeah, man, we’ll understand if you’re not feeling well.” Bob chimed in. Wade replied with a simple “Yeah,” to add to the conversation.
“Thanks, guys.” Jack said. He looked back towards the glowing computer screen in front of him. Him, Mark, Bob, and Wade were all playing G-mod Prop Hunt, and as far as Jack was concerned, he was still pretty well hidden. For now, at least. A minute soon passed, and Jack reached out for his keyboard to switch objects and change his hiding spot when he felt his stomach suddenly lurch. Quickly, he leaned forward to speak into the mic.
“I’ll be right back, guys,” he said. He didn’t bother waiting for a reply from his friends. He hurriedly set his headphones down on the desk and left his recording room, jaw clamped shut and hand pressed firmly against his lips. He rushed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, and knelt in front of the toilet, one arm clutching the bowl and the other wrapped around his stomach. He stayed in that position for a while, dreading what was to come but at the same time wishing it would just happen already so he could return to his friends and his game. The stale stench of toilet water filled his nostrils, a smell that only became familiar in moments such as these, as he leaned over the toilet bowl, his breathing labored.
After what felt like an eternity, Jack began to cough, which then progressed to gagging. Finally, he heaved, shutting his eyes tight as he threw up whatever it was within him that was making him sick. His throat burned and his mouth tasted of vomit. Slowly, he wiped his eyes and opened them, gazing into the toilet bowl. His eyes widened at what he saw.
Suddenly, the burning sensation was no longer just in his throat, but in his neck as well, accompanied by a powerful stinging and intense throbbing. Feeling something begin to slowly drip down his collarbone, he touched his fingertips gently to his neck. Blood stained them when he pulled his hand away. His throat appeared to have been cut open.
Frantic, Jack’s baby-blue eyes darted around the bathroom. This was no longer the room he was familiar with. The room was illuminated with eerie, dim red light, and blood dripped from the walls and ceiling, pitter-pattering onto the floor as a leaky ceiling would in a rainstorm. With widened eyes, Jack watched as the door slowly opened. There, in the doorway, stood a large, ominous figure, whose body looked not unlike Jack’s, its entire being cloaked in shadow. The most distinguishing thing about the figure was a pair of green, glowing eyes. The monster’s head tilted to the side and began to spasm and shake violently. Jack, frozen with terror, could only sit and watch for what felt like the longest two minutes of his life. Then, an unearthly scream emanated from the being, and rushed towards Jack, who also screamed in response, and he shut his eyes tight. Then, he reopened them.
And all was normal.
Frantic, with heart pounding and breathing rapid, Jack once again surveyed his surroundings. Normal bathroom. He touched a hand to his neck. No more neck wound. Shakily, Jack slowly stood up and flushed the toilet. All was…normal.
“What the fuck…” Jack whispered to himself. He made his way to the sink, and bent over it to brush his teeth and rinse his mouth of the horrid taste of vomit. Slowly he looked into the mirror, and what stared back at him was not Jack, but a doppelganger whose eyes were pitch-black, a wicked grin plastered on his face. A bloody wound stretched across his neck.
“A-Anti…” Jack whispered, terrified.
“I̺̙̪̿͊́ͮ̚̚'̫̱̜ͯ̍ͣ͑͛̽͘͡m̴̦͇̫̹̗ͣͤͧ̿ͮ̋͞ ̟̤͓͈͇͙̲̮̾̓̐̍̎͘a̢̺͉̰̺͌ḽ̇͝w̘̮̻͚̌̾͊͑͛ͤ͢a̴̮̾ͧ̊̈́͌̒̂͟y̡̛̻̼̥̓ͥ̐͞s̨̘̦̬͕̥̾̋ͤ͗͋͒͡ ̶̪̻̖͐͆̆̃t̐͐̽͐̉ͥͣ̏҉͎̜̫͓̳̜̞̰͘͜ḧ́̓͏͕̖̳͇̮̤͍̬̦ḛ̢̞̮ͬ̆̆̄͐̈́̎͠ŕ̩͙͖͙͙̙̖̫̄ͦͥ̑͟͠e̶̵̜͍̻̫̥͈͚̖̓͊̽̍̽ͮͯͤ” the being known as Anti spoke, and a loud, echoing, maniacal laughter emanated from his throat. The mirror broke, and Jack yelled out and jumped back in surprise, falling and smacking his head against the bathtub. His vision went dark and he conked out.
Jack awoke with a pounding in the back of his skull. His vision refocused slowly, and he pressed a hand to the spot where he had bumped his head. Suddenly, he remembered his friends, and he unsteadily rose, leaving the bathroom and returning to his recording room, worried that he had taken too long and they all had left. By the familiar sound of witty banter coming from his headphones, however, he knew immediately that that wasn’t the case. They were all still there, waiting upon his return. Jack checked the timer. He had only been gone for ten minutes.
“You guys still there?” Jack asked as he put his headphones back on and sat down in his green-and-black gaming chair.
“Hey, look who’s back!” Wade exclaimed.
“Hey, man, you feeling better?” Bob asked, sounding concerned.
“We were really worried about you. Hope you’re alright,” Mark added.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” Jack lied. He felt awful for lying to them, but if he told them the truth they would think he was going insane. Hell, if someone came up to Jack and explained to him what just happened, he wouldn’t believe them either!
“Sorry I took so long. I slipped over a bath mat and I hit my head on the tub. Blacked out for a bit. I’m alright, though.” While it wasn’t a complete lie, per se, it wasn’t the truth, either. It would just have to do until he could sort out that the actual fuck just happened. Even if he were to tell them the truth, what would he even say? He couldn’t begin to describe it, himself.
“Ooh. Sounds painful.” Mark said. “And you’re sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.” Jack knew that was far from the truth. He was unsettled, disturbed. He was scared. He felt as if he was losing his mind. He’s seen Anti before, he’s been taken over by him before. But this, this was so much different than the last two times. It was as if Jack was living a real-life horror game. Until he figured out a game plan, he decided he was going to keep this to himself. So, he played off as if he were okay. Just for now.
“Are you okay to play a few more rounds, then?” Mark asked him.
“Sure, let’s do it.” Jack replied. Because at least playing a game with his friends could take his mind off of things. But, every now and again, through his headphones, he swore he could still hear the laughter.
“I̶͇͓̝̲̭̙͗͐̐ͯ͛ͨ͡ț̱̗̼̬̙͇̯͖̒̅̿̒̊̑ͤ͡'̗̜͓̂s̩͓̟̮̆͐͡ ̠̘͍̩͈͇̣̩̝̃͑̒̈́̈́̑ͤ̀̉m̨̖̻̬͂̒ͥͧ̓͂ͣ͒͗͡y̨̞̙̣ͭ̓̚ ̡̔ͤ̈̃͏̺̰͎̖͇͚ţ̹̱̜̰͙ͪ͐͡ų͖̣̼̹̯̅ͪ̒̔ͣͬ̍̋ŗ̙̦͍͔͒ͬͤͩͤ̏ͭ̌n̡̹̊̄̇̏̃̋̍͡ ̼͔̹͈̙̟̟͇̪ͨ͌ͪ̋ͭ͋̚͘͡n̷͖̦̮͋̍ǒ͎̜̳̺̗̦̹̹͐ͫw̧͎̤̭̺̘̗̘ͣͭ̈͑ͪͭ͒̉̐͞ͅ,̧̭̪̣͙̱̟͈̼̽̉ͣͬ̑̆ ͇̘̬̆ͧ͛̅ͮ͡J̘̞̩̲͔̞ͩ́̄́͘͝a̢͙͚̖̹̭̠͍̬̋̿́͟c̝̙̞̭̰̿̿ͪͤͯk̨ͦ̒̃̄͞͏̲̠̻̼͇.͓̤̥̥̂͗́ͩ̐̐ͥͧ̆̀ͅ”