Game Theory: The Secret Life Of Markiplier

Mark out here doing what he does best and giving his fanbase a damn heart attack.

Containment Breach.

A/N: WARNING FOR BLOOD AND GORE MENTIONS. Back on the Anti hype train! I was playing with a photo editor and it sparked a story idea, so I thought I’d try writing something a little different, a little more environment based. Pulled a little bit of inspiration from RE7 as well, that game’s amazing.

It had to be one of her least favorite noises in the world, the heavy, scraping squeal of an old metal door opening for the first time in months, its hinges screaming in protest against the sudden, unexpected use after so long being forgotten.

The hallway before her was dark, extending deep into the side of the hill, entirely industrial except for the occasional tree root creeping through the cracked concrete walls and floor. She flicked on her flashlight, sweeping it cautiously across from wall to wall before stepping inside, pushing the door to behind her, but being careful not to close it. She didn’t want to be trapped in here. Her footsteps were deafeningly loud in her ears, echoing in the small space as she walked, peeking into rooms with doors thrown open and hanging from their hinges, quickly making her way past one that had its door closed, and a menacing dark stain seeping out from under it. The hall ended abruptly in an elevator. The doors to it sent chills down her spine. They looked as if they were clipping through the walls beside them, as in a poorly crafted video game map. And they were splattered red, from rust...and from something much worse.

Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat, she moved to look inside. There wasn’t much to see. The elevator itself wasn’t there, just the gaping maw of the shaft, a black hole reaching down like an abyss, bottomless. Shining her light on the walls, she could see what looked like burn marks, or skid marks, or both, and severe dents like impact sights. Something had fought its way out of this place. She made a slight noise of annoyance, crawling into the shaft and climbing down the cables as carefully as she could. One misstep and she would be joining the rest of the staff of this place, adding a new layer of paint to the bottom of the pit, she thought bitterly. It almost seemed like she was descending forever, passing floor after floor, her arms and legs beginning to ache horribly. She had to focus on her reason for being here, ignoring how tired she was becoming, occasionally looking down to remind herself of her reason to hang on. Finally, her flashlight’s beam bounced off of the metal paneling of the floor she’d been looking for. She swung in and...thud. Her landing echoed dully on the once-pristine tile. It was more of the same, down here. But so much more intense. Here, it seemed, was the origin point of the destruction. The floor was littered with broken bits of piping from the lines rusting away from the walls, and the fluorescent lights that’d once kept this place starkly lit were dangling by their wires so that she had to duck to move safely. And the further in she went, the more there seemed to be broken parts of reality, pixelated patches of wall that seemed to have been paused mid-glitch, holes as if there were textures missing. The thought of a broken game map came to her mind again. But worse than the bizarre, mind-bending physics...blood stained the hall, in splatters on the walls, in drips and puddles long dried on the floor, and, in a few places, in sprays on the ceiling. As she reached the end of the hall, she found a sign, half hanging on the wall.

<- SHORT TERM HOLDING <- BRIEFING ROOMS     TESTING ->     LONG TERM HOLDING ->

As she turned toward the hall, she thought she caught a glimpse of something in the hall behind her. Something that looked markedly like green eyes and a scruff of...green hair? She turned back quickly to look, but it was gone. Deciding she’d rather not see it, she hurried along to the right-hand hall.

She came to a set of stairs, descending even deeper into the belly of the beast, until she came to another hall, this one’s floor covered in the powdered remains of the glass that’d once made up the foot-thick walls of the facility’s testing rooms. She glanced into the first room. A broken table, half of it seeming to clip through the floor, shattered microphone pieces, something that looked like it might once have held test tubes and syringes, shredded leather strapping. More blood. It was much the same in the other rooms, twisted restraining chairs, equipment that looked purposefully, furiously dismantled, shredded paper that might once have held records. Glitches in reality. Everywhere, there was more blood. In the last room, she nearly screamed. A body, the first she’d seen here. It was face down on the ground, a pool of dried blood and something that was such a dark green it was nearly black spilling from its nearly severed-in-half neck, the gore and incredible stench of which was nearly enough to make her sick right then and there. Its limbs were twisted at impossible angles, so that it looked as if the poor bastard had been slammed around before finally skidding to a stop here. Regretfully, she pulled out her phone, the flash of it snapping a picture of the scene almost blinding her. They’d want to know about this, to arrange to have his remains retrieved. She hoped they would, anyway. Heartless as they were, he’d probably rot away down here with the rest of the facility. Forgotten, just like they want this place to be. Still...better to try.

Stepping back out into the hall, she pushed open the heavy door, whose keypad lock was hanging by one wire. Maximum security, huh. Much good it did them. She smiled bitterly. This hall looked nearly untouched, deathly still. The doors to all of the cells were closed, and she still had the sense that she needed to stay back from them, that dangerous creatures were lurking just behind them even though there was no noise to be heard. Nothing would’ve survived on this level, she knew. But still she felt unsafe.

The last cell was wide open, the door on the ground, a twisted lump that was barely recognizable. She felt as if she were walking into it in slow motion. It was so...standard. A bed, minimal as taxpayer money could buy. A steel toilet adhered to the wall, with a small steel sink beside it and a rack with two pristine, cheap white towels. On the bed, though, was a file folder. She walked over slowly, picking it up and putting the flashlight awkwardly into the crook of her neck so that she could open it. A picture fluttered out, and she shone her light where it lay on the floor.

The label was hard to read, faded and peeling.

Subject #4NT1 Name: Sean William McLoughlin AKA: Jack, Jacksepticeye DOB: Feb. 7, 1990 Originates From: Ireland Duration of stay: Indefinite

On the back of the picture were a few scribbled lines of writing.

Subject complains of headaches which coincide with nosebleeds shortly before each episode. Episodes most obvious features: eye pigmentation shift, vocal shift (practically “auto-tune”), atmospheric disturbances. Shaking her head, she flipped through the papers in the file were dated just as recently, some even as recent as this past October. Occasionally a few words jumped out. “Unstable.” “Condition worsening.” “Duality.” This was it, alright. This was...him. This file was all they needed, had everything they needed to stop him. Contain him. To not make the stupid, small mistakes that’d led to...this.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the file and turned to leave...but stopped.

A high pitched giggle echoed down the halls.

“No...” her voice was a hoarse whisper. And she ran, full pelt down the hall. She screamed in frustration as the heavy door slammed itself shut, the giggling escalating into laughter, high and cold and deranged. “No!” She slammed her fists into the door, pulling and shoving alternatively. “Dammit, let me out!” “I’m gonna find you!” His voice seemed to bounce and echo, sliding between pitches, sometimes sounding like several of him were speaking at once. “Jack, please! I know you’re in there!” She was starting to panic, now, voice cracking desperately. “He’s GONE!” Another maniacal laugh. She turned to face the room. Around her, the walls seemed to be...glitching. “YOU! You’re on THEIR side! You helped them CATCH ME! CHEATERS! It’s no fun if you CHEAT!” Sudden silence. Suddenly her throat burned, and she retched, hands clawing at it as she crumpled to the floor, the laughter echoing again with a vengeance, louder and louder around her, the walls glitching in and out of existence with more frequency and intensity.

The last thought she had was of the body in the testing room. At least he wouldn’t rot alone, she thought dimly as she faded into the darkness.

But No One Came.

A/N: Guess who got into Undertale? And of course the first thing I write about it is an angsty Sans piece. So! This takes place in the early part of a genocide run. Enjoy!

"undyne...we've got a problem." Sans frowned a bit as he spoke into the phone. He stared up into the trees as he told her about the human...or what looked like one. Because, clearly that thing wasn't human. It wasn't a monster, either, though, which was the unsettling part. It was...nothing. Empty. It sent a shiver down his spine when he'd first seen it. But the woman behind the door had called it human, so he'd supposed... But then they were so cold, and silent. The look in their eyes... "yeah...yeah, we'll try. don't worry about paps," he half smiled, the looming purple door appearing at the end of the path, "I'll make sure he's not in the way of the fight. he's busy setting up a puzzle before waterfall, and they'll never get that far." He nodded. "yeah, you watch yourself too, 'dyne. i'll see ya when i see ya." He hung up and glanced up at the door. He could really use some cheering up...a joke or two never hurt anyone, and he could warn the old girl to take care of herself. He knocked a couple of times on the door. Nothing. Sans frowned again. That...never happened. She was always here. Maybe she'd gone to do something? He knocked again, harder this time. Again, there was no response. "lady? you there?" Nothing. Something felt heavy behind his ribs. Something was wrong. It was then that he spotted a track in the snow. It looked as if the snow had been pushed aside by the door opening...but...it was always locked. He'd tried again and again, but... He tried it now...the handle turned. The door was heavy, but he could move it. This didn't feel right.

"hello?" It was dark in here...silent. He walked for a long time, down a hall that looked darker and darker with every step, until he came to a doorway to a small room, with nothing in it but a patch of dying grass. The door on the other side was still open. He took a few cautious steps closer. It smelled a bit like...butterscotch? Or maybe cinnamon. The feeling he’d had when the door opened was getting worse with every step he took. "lady?" But then he saw something that made his bones go cold. A pile of dust lay in the middle of the room, with a footprint in the center of it. That thing... Was in Snowdin. Was heading for his brother.

He was running before he knew what he was doing. He passed through a doorway and suddenly he wasn't in the dark place anymore, but in Snowdin. "PAPYRUS!" There was no one around. No one, not a single monster. Even Monster Kid, the stupid child that he was, had finally wandered away. It was too quiet in his town, except for the unusually loud and frantic echo of his own voice. He didn’t know if he’d ever yelled like this, ever had every fiber of his being on as high alert as it was now. "DAMMIT, PAPS, WHERE ARE YOU?! ANSWER ME! PAPYRUS!" He wrenched open their front door and raced up the stairs, shoving Papyrus' door aside with a BANG. But he wasn't there. No, no, no, no, no... He turned and ran out the door, but instead of appearing on the landing, he was running down the path out of town. Papyrus had been working on something near Waterfall. Maybe he'd taken refuge. Maybe he'd found Undyne. Maybe...maybe... He skidded to a stop.

A red scarf had been kicked to the side of the road. There was scattered piles and smears of dust, not even enough for a proper burial. For a long moment he couldn't move. He couldn't make a sound. It couldn't be real, there was no way, he couldn't be...he wasn't...he wasn't... He was screaming, and there was beam after beam of power and light bombarding the ground, the trees, the sky, the rocky walls of the Waterfall entrance. The ground was shaking and he was screaming and everything was on fire. He came to his sense after a while, and the screaming cut out suddenly, turning into heavy breathing. And the heavy breathing became sobbing as he crumpled to the ground, clutching the scarf. He stopped himself eventually. Stood slowly. Shakily stuffed the scarf into one of his pockets, resting his hand on top of it. He stared around him at the carnage he'd wrought. Stupid, goody-two-shoes, stickler-for-the-rules, spaghetti-loving, pun-hating...wonderful Papyrus. The poor guy had tried to make friends with even this thing. He probably hadn’t even put up a fight at all. He’d probably spent his last breath believing that he could change them, make them good again... No. No more of that. There was only one thing in the world that was worth his energy now. No more breaks. It was time to end this.

The veteran stumbled across the smoldering hub. They were battered, bruised and burned. They slumped to their knees, exhausted from the inferno that they could still feel on their skin.

The breaths they took were laboured and their vision was blurry.

“This is….” they mumbled “this is something else”

They could see a wide eyed community member huddled up in the corner, trembling in a mixture of fear and excitement.

The veteran groaned as they got up and moved to them.

“Hey” they whispered to the other community member as they crouched down, giving them a reassuring smile. “Looks like this is your first time in a fire, huh?”

The community member nodded without saying a word.

The veteran took out their med kit and tended to a small burn on their arm.

“You’ll get used to it. I promise” they showed them their own burn marks and patted the member’s shoulder. “Just rest for a minute, okay?”

They stood up and surveyed the chaos. Everything had a scorchh mark every table, chair, cork board…..and person. They could see others patting the dust off themselves, bewildered and battered but still smiling.

They helped as much as the could with their aching limbs telling them to rest. Soon they had to stop and get fresh air. They thanked a kindly member who handed them a bottle of water as they walked out to the open.

They looked out into the distance once they were outside and saw another storm brewing. Clouds turning grey with a hint of green in the far off lightning flashes.

Their thoughts turned to the one who created the carnage and they smirked.

“You’re not done with us yet. You’re just getting warmed up, aren’t you, Jack?”

Transcription of file 4nt1.aud October 22, 2016. 6:42pm. Location undisclosed.

[Start recording]

State your name for the record, please.

Helena [Name withheld for privacy]. I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?

No, no, Helena. Can I call you Helena?

Sure, I guess.

We've heard that you're quite the expert on certain recent...developments, in the online community.

What do you mean?

Could you tell us what you know about Sean Mcloughlin?

[Pause] What does he have to do with anything?

Helena, we're trying to help. Please, we need you to tell us what you know.

[Another pause] I...don't think you can help.

What do you mean?

I mean...I think he's too far gone.

Can you explain?

[Long pause] I've started calling them Hyde Glitches.

Hyde Glitches? As in, Jekyll and Hyde?

Yes, exactly. Some call them monsters. Some call them demons. Some simply call them the...darker...parts of us. All of them are right to some degree. These things...they're somewhere in between. Near as I can figure, they're a type of thought form, something created from the minds of people, brought into real life by enough concentration from enough people for a long time. These specific thought forms, they come into being through the internet. Youtube, primarily.

And how does that happen?

Fandoms. They...they grow around these people, thousands or...or millions of people, who're watching, focusing, thinking about this one...focal point.

Does the entity just...come into being? Naturally?

Well, no. Not usually. I think it starts when someone...some mad bastard has the brilliant idea to write up something...dark, about these creators. A fanfiction. They write them a dark side, a hidden psychopath. And then for some sick reason, people latch onto these dark sides. They name them. They draw them. And the longer this idea is around, the stronger the creature gets, until...until they take control. [Pause] I think that's what he's doing now.

And what's his name? This..."thought form" version of Mr. Mcloughlin?

He's got a couple of them...but...the most popular...

Yes?

They...call him Anti.

"Anti"? As in, opposite?

Yes. [Nervous laugh] I never said it was terribly creative. It's short for Antisepticeye. A play on the channel name.

Alright. So..."Anti". This creature has control of Mr. Mcloughlin? Is there any way to destroy it?

[Pause] You believe me.

Yes.

Why?

Helena, it's my job to believe in...unusual things.

[Pause] Yes. There might be a way.

How?

Well...Sean's got to do it. He's got to fight him off. That's why I call it a Hyde Glitch. They're dark sides, so the only way to defeat it is for the light side to win.

Do you think that Sean is strong enough to do that?

I think...he has to try. I hope to god he is.

Why is that?

Because no one else has a chance at stopping him, once he's free.

[Pause] Thank you for your time, Helena.

[End recording]

I wrote a book!

Hello! So for the better part of a year, I've been working on a science fiction book titled Artificial Intelligence, and it's been through beta reading after beta reading, edits, re-writes, and so much more, and it's finally published and available for purchase on Amazon. I'm so incredibly proud of this story, and I just wanted to share it. It's available in eBook form and a paperback physical book! Here's the link!

(Cover by the lovely @stitchtehhedgehog on Instagram)

I’m actively shocked that I don’t have a bingo.

How many full rows do you have?

all i can think of is a vampire stopping suddenly in front of a mirror in a store, and their human friend, who isn’t aware of their condition, just gets very confused.

“Craig? You good? Why are you staring at yourself like that? ...Dude you’re crying, are you okay?”

And the vampire is just crying bc it’s bittersweet. They look just like they remember looking, but now they’re so pale and their hair is so different and the clothes don’t match the face anymore, and it suddenly makes them realize how very old they are, and how very alone.

Fun Vampire Fact; the reason that Vampires traditionally cannot see their reflections in a mirror is because mirrors used to be backed with a reflective layer of silver — which, as the metal of purity, would not ‘interact’ with Vampires, who are the Devil’s work.

However, modern mirrors have used aluminum as their reflective backing for many years now — and aluminum is not a ‘picky’ metal at all. So Vampires are able to see their reflections in modern mirrors.

Ill Met By Moonlight.

A/N: I really wanted to try and write a really, truly scary version of Dark, because I feel like he’s too often not used as scarily as he could be. I like creepy villains, so let’s make a worse big bad than Anti! Based in the same universe as Don’t You Trust Me? Taking place sometime in the beginning of October of 2016. Enjoy. :)

Thump. Thump. Thump. Buzz. A chuckle.

The figure alone in the alley smiled slightly as he laughed. The green tinge that the code on the walls gave his skin made him look like a walking corpse, made his red hair look like waves of infected blood spilling over his closed eyes. When he spoke, it was like listening to an ancient door grind open, raspy and deep, with quiet power. "So...you're the one I've heard so much about. This...other one that everyone's panicked about. It took you long enough to come to me."

His eyes opened slowly, pure black orbs that seemed to focus on the dark green smoke that was coalescing out of the coding about two yards ahead of him. He watched it with limited interest as it slowly took the form of a man, crossed armed and smirking. His eyes, crinkled almost shut with his grin, and his hair were the same toxic green as the coding, and he couldn't seem to hold this form perfectly, glitching every few seconds, now an arm made of static, now one eye that was just code. The two men faced off for a moment, each silently sizing the other up. The green haired man spoke first, and even his voice was glitchy, high and pitch-distorted, like radio interference or the rewinding of a cassette. "That makes you the old man, doesn't it? What a pleasure to meet you." He swept into a mocking bow. The red haired man's jaw tensed, but he made no reply. The green haired man let out a sharp, high laugh, but was cut off suddenly when the other lifted a hand, seeming to choke on his own sound. "You," growled the dark haired man, "are far too loud." He shoved his hand forward and the other man went flying, thudding into the far wall and sprawling on the ground, trying to get up but pinned down by some unseen force. The dark haired man strolled forward, unconcerned. "You're young. I can forgive a few...mistakes. But you're rising quickly. Keep this up..." He knelt beside the prone man, who glared up at him with bared teeth, and smiled for the first time, a cold, calculated grin. "You'll fall twice as fast. And I'll never let you crawl back up." "You think you can control me?" The green haired man spat the words, glitching hard in his fury. "I'll destroy you, you joke of a creature. I've ten times the power you ever had." The red haired man shrugged, and stood, turning. As he walked away, toward a black door frame that was taking shape before him, he spoke over his shoulder. "You've been around long enough to hear the legends? The stories my...fans, have told? Well...Find me when that day comes. I'll show you what power I have." And just as quickly as he'd appeared in this abandoned corner of the web, he was gone.

The green haired man stood, studying the place in the wall where the other had disappeared. He was a force to be reckoned with. Not even his counterpart knew his true strength, hell, no one was sure if he himself knew. All anyone knew was that he'd been there since the beginning, practically, and operated in the background, silent, like a creeping dread. Anyone, anything that crossed his path...destroyed. Utterly, and without mercy. There were those that said even catching a glimpse of him was a death sentence, and those that said the black of his eyes was caused by the souls he'd overpowered writhing behind them. No other of their kind had the following he did, with so little for them to work off of but such passion. Such dangerous, dangerous passion. Now, the green haired man...New as he was, he was gaining a following quickly. And the bigger the following, the more power he gained, and the more dangerous he became. Why then did he find himself...uncomfortable, in the shadow of this older figure? What was this...weight in his gut? For the first time, he was beginning to realize with a degree of shock...he was afraid. But this only fueled his anger. "My turn."

And the alley was empty, with nothing but a whiff of smoke and a fading, high, maniacal laugh echoing on the walls left behind.

My fingers slipped...

"I fuckin' dropped my headphones again, dammit," he laughed, bending to pick them up. You laughed too, shaking your head, and though you knew he couldn't hear you, you muttered fondly, "I mean it's to be expected, ya over-enthusiastic green bean." "What'd you call me?" You stopped, frowning at the screen. Jack was looking straight at the camera, in mock-offense. You chuckled. "Damn, my timing is on today." You really should stop talking to yourself... "It wasn't even a clever joke!" Jack grinned, sidling toward the camera, swinging his headphones in one hand and his VR set in the other. "It was plain insulting! I am the greenest of beans, thank you!" "It's like you can hear me!" You laughed, getting ready to hit the home button. Jack's smile dropped in surprise. "Wait. You heard that? You saw that?" You paused again. This was...not what you expected.

"And I will SEE ALL YOU DUDES...IN THE NEXT VIDEO!" The outro music played, making you laugh as you dropped your arms and scrolled down to the comments. Twenty seconds to chill there before you caught the outro clip and moved on for the day, which was fine with you. Twenty seconds was more than enough time in the comments with the "buy me" bots so abundant these days. You hummed along to "I'm Everywhere", debating putting the song on in the background while you got some work done before bed. This was a routine of yours: Come home, watch videos, do some work, and sleep. It was a good system, and it was nice to see your favorite youtuber's faces at the end of your day, almost always leaving you smiling as you turned off the lights. Jack, Mark, Ethan, everyone you watched, made you so happy. They might not know you personally, but that was okay. It was enough to send them your love and support, and it was cool to occasionally get a like or a reblog, or, much rarer, a reply, once in a while. It was fun enough just being part of the community, laughing at the inside jokes and smiling and crying together through all the games and videos. Everyone was so nice, it was unbelievable. It was like having millions and millions of friends to chat with 24/7. What a feeling! You were so lost in thought that it startled you when the music cut out and Jack's voice came up again in the outro clip. You scrolled up, smiling. "I fuckin' dropped my headphones again, dammit," he laughed, bending to pick them up. You laughed too, shaking your head, and though you knew he couldn't hear you, you muttered fondly, "I mean it's to be expected, ya over-enthusiastic green bean." "What'd you call me?" You stopped, frowning at the screen. Jack was looking straight at the camera, in mock-offence. You chuckled. "Damn, my timing is on today." You really should stop talking to yourself... "It wasn't even a clever joke!" Jack grinned, sidling toward the camera, swinging his headphones in one hand and his VR set in the other. "It was plain insulting! I am the greenest of beans, thank you!" "It's like you can hear me!" You laughed, getting ready to hit the home button. Jack's smile dropped in surprise. "Wait. You heard that? You saw that?" You paused again. This was...not what you expected. Deciding that you didn't have to worry about sounding crazy as you were home alone, you tested something. "Um...yeah. You said I insulted you." "I do that all the time, talk to you after videos...but you've never heard me before." Jack was staring at you, halfway between concern and interest. "Okay. I must be really tired. I'm going to bed," you announced, trying to convince yourself that you were just talking to yourself. "I mean if it makes you feel better," he said, shrugging. But he looked disappointed. It almost made you sad, but...but that'd be ridiculous. Getting sad about a hallucination. Ridiculous. You stood, pulling off your headphones and setting them down. But as you turned to take a step, the lights buzzed and dimmed for a moment. You frowned at them. Was there something up with the power tonight? Was a storm rolling in? The lights dimmed again, and the buzzing got louder. And in the buzzing, you thought you could hear... Something "tink"ed behind you. You turned to see Jack tapping frantically on the glass, saying something you couldn't hear. Alright. Dream fully commenced, you supposed. Though you didn't recall feeling tired enough to fall asleep at your desk. You picked the headphones back up and put them on. "-sten to me! Oh, thank Christ, you put those back on! Gimme your hand, now!" "What?" "Gimme your hand, you've gotta trust me for a minute, you're in trouble!" Jack was leaning toward the camera, hand outstretched. "But how can I...Y-you're a Youtube video! How the hell can I give you my hand?! What trouble?!" The lights flickered again, the buzzing now a constant drone, and under it, a faint voice, singing something you weren't sure you wanted to hear the words to. "Him! Now c'mon! Just reach!" "Jack, I dunno..." This was quickly becoming a nightmare, and you were starting to get scared. "C'mon, dude, you can trust me! Please!" A light popped and shattered behind you and you jumped. That was enough to make the decision for you, and you reached... ...and felt his hand grab yours. Suddenly, you were falling.

And then you were standing. Shell-shocked, you blinked and stumbled a step back, but someone's hands were on your arms to steady you. "Easy, easy, that kinda travel's hard on you the first time you do it." You gaped at Jack, right in front of you, in person. "How-? What-? Huh-?" Jack smiled, a little panicked still, a little reassuring. "Hi. Ah...welcome to the video." "Weirdest. Dream. Ever." You took a step back and Jack dropped his hands, putting them on his hips instead. "Ah, you're sayin' this is a dream. That's one way to cope, I guess. Okay. Dream it is, then." "Dream it is," You agreed, no willing to argue the point at this stage. "Ah, nice to meet you, Jack. Or, Sean, I guess-" "Oh, no, no," he said quickly, shaking his head, "I'm not Sean. I'm Jack." It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. "Meaning?" "Meaning Sean is part of your world. He's the actual person, I guess." He shrugged. "There's no good way of explaining it, and honestly, I've never had to before. Let's go with this: I'm Jacksepticeye, meaning I'm the part of Jack that exists online. In his videos, on twitter and tumblr and all that. I'm a..a persona, I guess." You nodded slowly. "So...I'm like...in the internet right now?" "Yeah." Jack nodded. "Welcome to the Web." "A physical place." "More or less." "How?" "Well, I don't really know. I wasn't hear for the beginning of it. All I know is that I exist. And this place exists. Sort of, half-real, I think. More electricity and code and computers than physical stuff." "That makes no sense." Jack shrugged, holding his hands up in defeat. "I did say I'd never explained it before. I dunno if I can." You shook your head and sighed. "Well...this is still a dream. So...dream logic it is. This exists because it does, that's all." "Alright, yeah," he agreed, smile returning full force. "Now about that...thing..." And the smile was gone again. "He hasn't done that before." "He?" But he didn't seem to hear you. Jack walked over to the camera, checking it for something, then busied himself finding a plug for it. "He's never made it out of a video before. It shouldn't be possible. But I suppose after Halloween, he would be stronger, wouldn't he?" There was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. "Not...?" Jack nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Him." "But...isn't he stuck in my world, then?" "No. I think...I don't know how, but I think he's connected to you. That's why I had to pull you in here, instead of just crashing the page." The sinking got faster. "So...I can't leave?" Jack rubbed his neck uncomfortably, looking at the floor. "Until we can figure out how to trap him again...no." You wished he hadn't used the word trap. He walked back over and put an arm around you. "We'll figure it out, okay? I'll get you home. I promise." You nodded numbly. Just a dream, you kept repeating to yourself. Just a dream. But still, the idea was terrifying. You'd loved the idea of him when you'd thought it was jut that: an idea. You'd even hyped him up all the way through October, hunting through videos for moments, liking gifsets and theories on tumblr. You'd never considered how it would be to meet him. You hoped you never did. You could almost still hear him singing.

"One, two Anti's coming for you..."

“C’mon little dude, you can trust me.”

Just a quick edit because I could not let the screenshot of Jack reaching out go