Chapter 25: Dreaded Reality..

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Sean Mcloughlin

I walked out of the room I was in with Felix, seeing Mark holding a gun. The both of us glanced at each other in concern, slowly stepping forwards towards him. He still didn't move a muscle, but kept his sight fixed upon the gun grasped in his hand. I swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the dreaded lump in my throat that remained where it was out of nervousness and fear.

"Mark?" I spoke out.

Nothing. He remained as he was, but this time, you could hear him softly sobbing, he was more of a broken man than Felix and I were.

"Mark? Can I have the gun please?" Felix asked, trying to keep a strong upfront.

He shakily looked up at us and ever so slowly handed him the gun. It seemed like he didn't want to, but knew deep down that he had to. I sat on the right side him and Felix sat on the left, Mark wiped his eyes for what looked to be about the thousandth time.

"You okay?" I inquired softly.

"Y-Yeah.." Mark mumbled, running his hand through his red hair.

"Look, I know things seem tough right now Mark.." Felix started, "But you've gotta be strong--"

"H-How can I be strong?!" Mark commented in an upset tone, "I've lost Becca I've got nothing now!"

"Mark! You have us!" I interrupted him, "We're always gonna be here for you, through all the bullshit we go through. Felix is right, you have to be strong. At least until we get out of New Jersey, the police are hot on our tracks, so we have to leave early morning."

Mark feebly nodded. I gave him a manly hug and Felix did so afterwards.

"We should probably get to sleep if we wanna get up early tomorrow." Felix stated.

Mark and I nodded understandingly and we decided to use the spare bedrooms upstairs to sleep in...

The Next Morning..

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the light, I got out of bed and checked the time. 5:30am. My head was thumping like crazy, it hurt so bad that every now and then I'd start to feel dizzy. Walking out of the bedroom, I noticed Felix and Mark had also just woken up.

"Hey... How'd you guys sleep?" Felix questioned as he stretched and held back a yawn.

"I slept well, but my head hurts a bit still.." I murmured.

"There should be some painkillers in my room." Felix pointed in the direction of the room I was sleeping in and rubbed my eyes.

I went to get some painkillers for my pounding headache. I could still hear their conversation from Felix's room.

"How about you Mark?" Felix inquired quietly.

"I-I slept kinda b-badly," He stuttered, "I guess I-I'm still n-not over w-what happened y-yesterday.."

"Hey hey, I understand.. It's taken me a while to... understand... what happened to Marzia." Felix stumbled on words as I could hear him holding back tears.

Once I found the painkillers, I took some with a bottle of water to get rid of my pulsing headache. Within minutes, my throbbing headache began to subside, and as I walked out, Felix and Mark were both in a trance, lost into their own train of thought, nothing stopping them from falling into a small bit of subconsciousness. I opened my mouth to talk, but was interrupted by something I'd never expect to happen.

"Felix Kjellberg, Sean Mcloughlin and Mark Fischbach!" One man bellowed over the sound of ear-piercing sirens. It was the police. "Come out here with your hands on your head or we'll start booting these doors down and shooting you dead!"

"Fucking hell." I hissed, "How did they find us so quickly?!"

By this time Felix and Mark were definitely no longer daydreaming.

"I told you they'd find us!" Felix whispered.

"I-Isn't there a-another way out??" Mark asked quietly.

"I doubt it." Felix grumbled, "The police are smart enough to have a few people out by the backdoor, and our best weapons are in the fucking car."

"Does that mean we have to... give up?" Mark uttered.

"But--" I tried to argue but Felix cut me off.

"Guys, we all know what has to happen now." Felix sighed. "Come on." He lead the way to the front door.

"Why are we giving up?!" I hissed again. I was angry now.

"Sean! There's no other way.." Felix mumbled.

Dreaded amounts of fear and guilt ran through my body and bloodstream as Felix pressed his closed hand around the handle. He opened the door and we were outnumbered by cops.

"Down on your knees now!" Another cop shouted as they all aimed guns at us.

The three of us dropped to our knees and put our hands on our head. A few cops approached us and began handcuffing us.

"Felix Kjellberg, Sean Mcloughlin, Mark Fischbach, you are under arrest." The cop in front of us spoke out.

The police officers violently threw us into three separate police cars and sped away, driving to the nearest imprisonment to us in New Jersey.

Mark Fischbach

2 Weeks Later..

You'd think two weeks in we'd be used to it by now, but fuck no we weren't. In fact, I hadn't seen Felix and Sean since we got incarcerated, and if my crippling loneliness wasn't bad then, it was getting a whole lot worse. After around, ten minutes, I realised I had been staring at the ceiling for a while, I sat up and looked around the room. I never thought I'd be sitting here.. All alone, with no one anymore, I was well and truly alone now. I thought. I couldn't stop these various thoughts racing through my mind.

I took out Becca's necklace from my pocket, wrapping it gently around my right hand. I stared at it for a mere few moments, before resting my head softly on my closed fists, reliving the emotions all over again. I struggled to hold in my emotions, my breathing heavy as I tried desperately to stop my tears from falling, but they were relentless, they dripped down my cheeks anyway.

My thoughts ran marathons. I couldn't control them or hold back on what was being said inside my messed up excuse of a mind. There was clearly no way of stopping myself, my mind had an agenda of its own and was pretty much unstoppable. How could she have left me like that? Knowing that I loved her so much. Why would she do that? Knowing that it would break my heart. Knowing that it would break her heart. Did she just expect me to live without her? Like our love never existed? Like I could just forget about her and move on? Why would she fatally risk her life for a fucking dork like me? What was special about me anyway? At this point, I was at an all time low, my self esteem had plummeted, my sanity was long gone, and my witty humor had been sucked away and replaced with uncontrollable anger, a broken mind, and an array of fucked up thoughts. I was far gone now. No way in hell would I be the "old Mark," ever again.

I looked up at the ceiling, my mind still laced with my only memories left of Becca, I gripped her necklace a little tighter in my hands, wanting to see her again. To wrap my arms around her again, to kiss her soft lips again, to be warmed by her comforting presence.

But it was all gone, no matter how hard I hoped and wished, I would never see her again...

I felt a small, cold breeze brush past me, gaining goosebumps within sheer seconds, a shiver running down my spine. It was feeling a little colder than usual, and I had to just fucking deal with it. Several moments later, I felt a very light and soft hand touch my right shoulder, in an almost comforting way. I looked behind me. No one, nothing, just a fucking bare wall. God, I really am going fucking insane.. I thought. Yet my mind continuously cast back to that singular moment that had only occurred a few seconds ago. Was someone trying to tell me something? Or was it a figment of my imagination? I ran my hand through my red hair and then stared at the necklace again.

I miss you so much Becca...

I scrunched up my eyes to attempt to avoid tears from streaming down my face again, but it was useless. I wiped my puffy eyes once again, lying down on the cold, grimy 'bed'.
I was already fucking missing the sofa in the safe house, let alone the spare beds that had barely been touched. My eyes travelled to the dark ceiling, I shut my eyes, wanting to forget this reality and hope it was all a dream.

Felix Kjellberg

Making a fourteenth engraved line on the wall, I kept my stare transfixed onto one place. Two weeks we had been here. That's fourteen days. Two sets of seven days. Four sets of three and a half days. Eight sets of one and three quarters of a day. I glanced around at my cell.

Grungy walls.
No avoiding that!

No natural light.
Definitely no chance, they want us to practically go stir crazy.

Frequent rushes of cold air.
There's no way of avoiding that in a shitty cell like this.

I huffed, the current surroundings of my cell already boring my eyes out.

"Kjellberg. You've got a call." A police officer by my cell, notes to me. I turn my attention to him and stand up, my cell's door being opened, two armed police officers by my side as I walk towards the prison's phone booth.

I sighed and picked up the phone, answering in a dull tone. "Hello."

"Hello Felix."

I could've sworn I recognised this person's voice. It was for sure a man, yet I couldn't quite put my finger on who it was...

"Who is this?" I asked briefly.

"Oh I'm sure you know exactly who this is." I could practically imagine the snarky smirk on his face as that sentence left his mouth.

"Who the fuck is this?" I inquired again, this time in a more colder, harsher tone,

"I killed them Felix. I killed them all." He breathed heavily, a hasty cackle on the tip of his tongue. "Marzia, Malcolm, Matt and Ryan. I killed them with my own bare hands. Even hired a friend to kill off Signe for me."

My palms were drenched in sweat as I gripped the phone tighter.

"Good luck getting to me with that life sentence on your back, tell Sean and Mark I said hello." He commented maliciously, letting out another creepy, heavy breath. That last sound was followed by a dead tone. He hung up.

By this point, I knew exactly who it was. It shocked me immensely and I had no fucking idea that a friend would do that to me, especially someone who's been a friend of mine for years now, even before this criminal bullshit. He was behind it all along, it was all his fucking fault.

And it eventually started to add up, even with the clues...

A black mask with a white emotionless face engraved onto it. Invert the colours.

A bold white circle, symbolising a face shape. And that links to the first clue.

Dark fabric from a hoodie. He only wears hoodies.

It still didn't hit me, not until thinking about it for a good few minutes.
I should've known he was one to pull something off like that.

But who knew... That Cry was capable of something so incredibly pernicious...

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