Chapter Text
"Jaaaaaaaack."
Dark. Everything was pitch black. Not a single spark of light reached this place. The wind was howling. Where was he? He looked up. There was nothing. He should be able to see stars. Or maybe he was in a cave? So was that the reason it was so dark?
„Jaaaaaack..“
This darkness wasn’t normal. It seemed so oppressive as if he were being strangled by it. His throat felt tight and the air he breathed tasted of poison. It started to burn his throat. He wanted to scream for help, for someone, anyone! But no sound left his throat. It only strangled him more and more, making it harder and harder to breath..
„Jaaack..“
Holding his throat and gasping for breath, he fell to his knees. But he felt no pain in his knees. It seemed as if he had fallen on cotton and he felt no ground below him. But he couldn't concentrate on that. The panic from the lack of air was too great. He needed to get out of here. The gasses that were making him choke were for sure toxic.
„Jack.“
Holding his throat and gasping for breath, he fell to his knees. But he felt no pain in his knees. It seemed as if he had fallen on cotton and he felt no ground below him. But he couldn't concentrate on that. The panic from the lack of air was too great. He needed to get out of here. The gasses that were making him choke were for sure toxic.
„Jack!“
Some crazy motherfucker had kidnapped and imprisoned him. They wanted to poison or probably even kill him. But why? He had never done anything to someone at least nothing criminal. He was always eager to be friendly and nice to everyone. And for what now? That a sychopath would kill him? Again he tried to scream, but there was only a gush of blood that comes from his mouth. His stomach rebelled and its content followed after the blood. Pain spread over his whole body. It felt as if his intestines knotted together, exploding his heart and bursting his head. More blood followed and now he was sure that his eyes were not only watering but also bleeding, as well as his ears.
„JACK!“
There was no light at the end of a hole, there was no peace in him. His life didn't flash before his eyes. It just hurt. Mental shock didn't numb him like others had said. It just let him suffer to death. Dying truly wasn't as it was always described. There he lay in the dark, feeling his lungs screaming for oxygen as his heart made its final beat until all the blood in his body stood still.
„SEÁN!!“
Someone giggled quietly.
Jack awoke sweating. The blanket was on the floor, the pillow between him and the wall. He sat upright in the middle of his bed. Quick and painfully, he drew his lungs full of air, enjoying the feeling of how they were filled and emptied again. His head still pounded painfully and his body ached as if he had sore muscles everywhere. “Only a dream. Just a fucking dream,” he muttered to himself as his breathing became steady.
When he got up to go to the bathroom, he fell back on his bed. By hyperventilating, his head
went in circles. So he remained sitting there, leaning his elbows on his thighs and ran his hands through his green hair. “What was that?” he muttered into the empty space of his bedroom. He sighed. He has never had such a vivid nightmare. Now he realized there was a voice that had called his name.
Jack didn't recognize it, not even the giggles at the end. It hadn't sounded very normal. Since when had he dreamed that a crazy fucker with a crazy laugh captured and killed him with gas? “This definitely comes from those zombienazigames.” Jack had become accustomed to talking to himself.
He lived alone in a relatively large apartment. Actually, the apartment was meant for two people, but his girlfriend had left him a few months ago. He was alone, unwilling to move again. Therefore, he often speaks to himself in order not to feel alone, or to give the impression that he was not alone.
Theoretically, he was not alone. He had his community, he had millions of fans he could talk with. But now and then, the whole personal thing was what he was missing. He would like to chat with all his fans, but that was hardly manageable. It was almost ironic that he felt alone and when he went online he couldn't save himself from all the messages.
Hence, his exgirlfriend had left him. She was jealous of his fans. She also wanted the attention, but Jack didn't allow that. He had drawn a straight line from his work and his personal life. He had no problem with mentioning her or even taking her to conventions, but she didn't belong on stage with him or in his videos. He thought that if they played games together during the evening of work, it would balance everything out and everything would become stressfree. It didn’t. She wanted to enjoy the popularity and the fame.
Jack really loved his girlfriend, she had always been good to him, laughed a lot and had listened to him when he had problems. But she changed. Towards the end, they disagreed over a lot of things and started arguing until night. Jack ended the relationship after he realized how she changed and was no longer the person he loved. But the only thing she did after the breakup was start looking for someone who gives her enough attention. It pained him to see that. Did she ever love him for who he was as a person? That was the beginning of his isolation. He hid behind his computer and in his community. He only went out to buy food and rarely chatted personally with anybody. With his editor, Robin, he arranged everything via Skype. With Mark and Felix, they spoke through the Internet. But that was only semipersonal. So, no one was in his life anymore, except his family of course. But he didn't see them often. He no longer had friends outside of YouTube. His work stole more time as he was aware of.
At first, Jack didn't notice that he hid behind his excuses. Eventually, his fans realized that something wasn't okay. 'Jack, are you sleeping at all?', 'How do you have time to make soooo many videos?' and 'Make a cut and give yourself a break, we can't follow you with your highspeed uploading'. Robin alked to him and stated that he did have time for this amount of videos and he shouldn't worry.
Jack even helped Robin edit his videos because Robin slowly began to looked overworked. Jack made so many videos that he easily could go a month on vacation without having to worry that someone would notice. It was during early October where Robin got the idea to go into the fictional persona of AntiSepticEye and edit the videos a little bit in which he distorted the picture or put an image of a bloody Jack for a few milliseconds in.
Thus, the fans came to the track that Jack might have just pretended he wasn't going so well, and everything was settled again. The event ended with the highlight that Anti showed up and killed Jack on Halloween night. It really was fun to make this persona come to life and he had barely felt alone he
entire month with the thought that he always had someone with him.
He was pleased about all comments to this video and it seemed that everyone loved it, which made him more than just happy. But after the event when everything went back to normal, he felt even emptier than usual. And now, we come to the present day. One week after Halloween Jack sat soaked in sweat on the edge of his bed and was worried about his mental state. “Everyone sometimes has nightmares, right?” he murmured and finally got to his feet.
His body circulation system accepted the change in his center of gravity this time so he moved to the bathroom to get a bit of cold water splashed on his face. Said and done. Clutching a hand on one side of the sink and the head hanging over the bowl, he looked at every individual drop of water that dropped over the tip of his nose down into the basin. Clear transparent drops, but why did they taste salty on his lips. Was he crying? Normal water doesn't taste salty...or like copper. Wait a second! Blinking, he saw down the basin, watching as red drops slipped from his nose and dripped on the now blood red ceramic. He quickly wiped his face, he stared at his hand and...it was wet. It was wet with water and tears, no blood.
Panting he looked up in the mirror, sad, bloodshot eyes looked back. “Probably just the tiredness,” Jack whispered as he wiped his face dry and went back to his room. But instead of going to bed, he sat down in his chair in front of his computer and turned it on. Thinking of getting any sleep was no option in his mind.
Mark Fischbach sat in front of his computer and had just edited a new video for his channel. It was only 8 p.m. and he wanted to record a least two new videos. Suddenly the familiar Skype sound of someone calling goes off. Without looking who it might be, he clicked on the green little telephone button. “Helllooo,” he said in his deep rich voice into the microphone in front of him. “Hey, Mark…” murmured a soft voice in his ear. It was unusually quiet and a bit rough, like he would have screamed for too long.
“Hi, Jackaboy. What's up?” Mark was a little worried. Like Jack’s fans, he noticed that something was wrong with Jack. But he didn't live near this Irish potato, so he always blocked him out from his thoughts. Mark was more anxious now that Jack had called and took no mind to the time difference. “Wait a minute. Jack, isn't it already night in Ireland? What are you going to do at…” calculating, calculating “4 a.m.?” he asked.
“Had a fucking nightmare and can’t sleep. Needed some company…” Jack replied and opened Rocket League to distract himself. “Jack.” whispered a quiet voice in the deepest corners of his head the voice from his dream. He twitched slightly but ignored it, it only was the aftermath of this horrible dream.
“Tell me,” Mark stated. Jack sighed. “I dreamed I would die...and it just felt so fucking real. Apparently, I was actually cramped because everything hurts and my lungs still burn as if I would have choked on gas.” Jack muttered. Then he told all the details. He was surprised that he still remembered it so well. Mark on the other side was quiet, too quiet. “Mark?” Jack asked when there came no answer.
“Sorry, I… I was in thoughts. That sounds fucking horrible. Maybe you need a change of scenery...or somewhat like it. Do you want me to come over?” Mark asked. Jack felt a warm feeling in his stomach. Mark had always been his idol. He looked up at him and hung on to his words like a man dying of thirst. Jack still wasn't used to the fact that he was actually friends with Mark.
The week of February when he was in LA that year was one, if not, the best week in his entire life. “Would you really come to Ireland?” Jack asked with disbelief in his voice. Mark only laughed deeply. This instantly gave Jack goosebumps but he ignored it briefly.
“For sure! I’ll look for flights,” said Mark and Jack heard him clicking extensively with his mouse. Mark quickly found something. These flights were not cheap, but he didn't care much. Jack was a really good friend of his and if there was something wrong with his friends, he was always right there to help even if he had to fly to Europe. Mark had wanted to visit Jack anyways due to the fact that Jack isolated himself from everything and clearly suffered more or less from a serious depression. Mark wanted to free Jack from his cocoon and reintegrate him back into society. Mark paused what he was doing. Wouldn’t it be better if Jack came to LA? That way there was a change of scenery and change of people around him. Mark changed the flight preferences slightly and found one quickly. “Jack, your flight goes at 7:45 p.m. tomorrow,” he said and clicked through the website. He heard how Jack took a deep breath to speak and interrupted him. “My flight was booked, Jack.”