I was rewatching Markiplier's playthrough of "The Intruder" when this idea suddenly popped into my head. I had to write it and felt the need to share it. I hope you all enjoy, even with the few changes I had to make in order for it to fit together.
Also, congrats on the 3 million subscribers, Markiplier!
The rain had yet to stop hitting the windshield as the car continued to furiously drive down the glazed over asphalt. The constant rough hits sounded much like a drum in one's ear, but this rhythmic and unremitting beating went unnoticed to the driver. His mind was far too busy with other thoughts, such as those concerning the bowl of popcorn he left unattended to on his couch, and an episode of some noteworthy TV show sitting on his DVD player at home, waiting to be watched.
The driver sighed as he pressed his foot against the brake pedal, stopping at another red light. He was sure this was the fourth one that night. It seemed like the lights tonight just didn't want him to reach home.
He decided to turn on the radio, hoping it would pass the time as he waited for the light to change. Station after station of pure snow, static that bugged the ears to even listen to for more than a second, until finally a station with actual music happened to come by. The young man wasn't sure what song was playing, nor did he particularly care, but it was better than listening to the rain beating down on the windshield and the windshield wipers squeak against the glass.
âWe interrupt this broadcast for an important announcement,â a female voice from the radio suddenly spoke, interrupting the music abruptly and causing the young man to pay closer attention. âBreaking news, the Crazed Butt-Stabber has recently escaped from Taunton State Hospital. Authorities have asked all residents to stay in their homes until further notice, and if they see this man, they have been asked to call for police assistance immediately. This criminal is armed and dangerous.â
The young man slightly scoffed, leaning forward against the steering wheel, looking to the glowing red light through the splattered windshield. He found it amusing that a reporter would inform this small city of a criminalâs escape from an asylum that was over fifty miles away. There was no way such a criminal would be in this area.
The light changed green, and the young man shifted his foot to the next pedal, beginning his drive once again.
By the time he reached home, it was well past ten oâclock. He shifted through his pockets, standing in front of the dark wooden door, all in search for one small key that would allow him access past the door and into the dark, disconsolate, halls of his home. He continued to tell himself that he would attack this silver object to his car keys, but he continued to push off the idea for another day; thus, forgetting about it entirely.
Once that key was found in the manâs left breast pocket of his black jacket, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, where he shut the door behind him. He threw his car key, house key, and any other key that was with him, into the bowl sitting by the door on a small brown table, and walked into the living room, where everything was still where it had been earlier. The bowl of popcorn sat on the red colored couch, waiting to be finished, and the flat, gray, TV flashed itâs constant static, informing the watcher that something needed to be changed in order to get back to usual broadcasting.
The young man picked up the bowl of popcorn, taking a small piece and putting it into his mouth. It needed heating, having been sitting there for a few hours since his rush to leave the house. He walked into the kitchen, heading straight to the microwave, where he put in the bowl of popcorn for about a minute.
The young man turned around, looking to the two dishes sitting on the ground, one holding food and other holding water. He found it quite odd to see the food dish wasn't in its usual spot, and instead was halfway across the room with the food lying all over the ground. He figured it was his dog who had kicked it in his haste upstairs, or out the small doggy-door on the backdoor. Either way, it was a mess that needed cleaning up, but the young man believed it could wait until later, meaning the next morning.
His attention was back to the microwave soon enough, after a loud beep echoed through the room. The young man took the bowl and went back to the living room where he would finally be able to finish the episode he had almost finished before leaving.
As if the world just wanted to ruin the manâs further enthusiasm of finally getting to relax, a loud noise, a thud almost, sounded from upstairs, which drew the manâs attention away from the TV. He looked back over his shoulder, half expecting his dog to come running down the stairs, scared because of the accident it had caused, but there was nothing, just another loud thump.
The young man sighed, setting the remote aside and getting up from his couch, heading towards the stairs. He walked up the brown steps, peaking through the bars to get a look at the second floor. The lamp from the table at the end of the hall had fallen over.
The young man picked up the lamp, setting it back onto the table. Before he could make another move, a loud squeak, slow and portentous, sounded from the door next to him. He couldn't help but look towards the door, his shoulders tense from being startled and at the sight of a pitch black room looking right back at him. He could have sworn something had moved in there, but that was impossible, nothing was in there, and he knew it.
The young man looked away, rubbing his face. Perhaps he was tired and just needed some rest. Yes, that must have been it. He turned away from the door, walking back to the stairs to go down and shut off the TV, ignoring the fact that something had just stepped out of the room he had just looked into.
The young man shut off the TV, turned off the DVD player, and took the bowl of popcorn and threw whatever was left away before placing the bowl into the dish filled sink. He stood there for a moment, a sudden tightness in his nerves, and the sudden thought to turn around come to mind. He looked back over his shoulder, figuring something was right behind him, but nothing was there. He was just being paranoid now, and he began to blame this on the reporter he had heard on the radio on his way home.
The young man ran water on the bowl, then turned to leave, only to stop again when noticing something he hadn't earlier. A knife was missing from the holder on the counter, he was sure of it. His mother had given him those knives when he first moved into the house, and he had yet to use them, let alone even touch them. So, he was sure he hadn't taken one and used it, but he couldn't be completely sure when he was this tired.
He walked out of the kitchen and headed back upstairs, heading directly to the bathroom, ignoring everything, even the newly closed door that had once been open.
The young man rubbed his face, walking up to the sink. He removed his hands, opening his eyes, and looked to his ragged appearance in the mirror, taking a few deep breaths. He didn't understand why he had this sudden uneasiness, and sudden recollection of what the woman reporter had said on the radio. There was no way that a âcrazed butt-stabberâ would be in his area, he was sure of it.
He turned on the faucet, letting the water run for a while before it finally began running cool, not too hot and not too cold. He put his hands under the water, rubbing them together before he bent down and splashed his face.
The young man suddenly sat up, looking out the open door of the bathroom. The loud noise had startled him yet again, but this time it tended to add more panic to his already consternated state. He looked out into the hallway, a bit confused when seeing the lamp from earlier was on the ground, shattered to pieces. Again, he figured it had been his dog causing trouble, so he took it as something not important. This was until the young man felt something behind him.
With his heart beat ringing in his ear, faster and faster with each second, he looked back. His panic spiked when seeing the large man behind him. The young man had no time to ask questions, let alone even get another second to breathe before the knife the large man was holding pierced skin and let blood leak onto the tiled floor.
The next morning, police had arrived to the house where neighbors had reported they saw a figure enter. To their dismay, the only thing they found was the young man lying on his bathroom floor, dead, from multiple stabs in the butt.
andulkaphoto
snowghoul
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