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Have you ever talked to other versions of yourself? Like..you from different multiverses? If not, if you were able to, what would you talk about?
Yes...and they're...so....arrogant and dangerous...most of them.... I would...ask them...to be more responsible and less...maniac...
"[name], there’s nobody there" with Dark perhaps 'seeing' the DA? love your writing as always, a delight to see your mail in my inbox every time!
I enjoyed this one.
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Prompt: “Dark, there’s no one there.”
“Leave -- alone!” A snatch of a voice. That’s all it was. But it was enough.
Enough for him to turn- and face a world drenched in gray and black, dripping with the sick echoes of that snatch-of-a-voice.
Dr. Iplier’s chest constricted; he froze in place. Mouth open, he gaped. Muscles tensed, he shook. Feet acting of their own volition, he turned to face the way he had come.
Then, slowly, a door that hadn’t been there before creaked open.
Despite every single cell in his body screaming for him to run, Dr. Iplier approached the door. Goosebumps shivered up his arms and the hair on his neck stood up as he got closer and he could hear more pieces of that same strangled voice.
It sounded like . . . an argument. But as the doctor reached the door and poked his head through, he saw it was something different.
Dark. Distortion hung about him like a fog, making it appear as if he were rippling, all but warping his features beyond recognition. Still, Dr. Iplier could see the desperation straining his expression as he slammed his clenched fists against the wall-length mirror and snarled. “I left you behind! You need to stay behind!”
“Dark?” The sound of his voice startled them both; Dark stiffened for a split second while Dr. Iplier fervently wished he had never been born.
Then, Dark turned his head to look at him and the doctor’s blood froze. But instead of snapping his neck or dismembering him from the head down, Dark only croaked, “Doctor.”
Medical instincts kicking in, Dr. Iplier stepped forward. “Dark?” He asked carefully, gently, “are you alright?”
Dark’s lips pulled back into a bared-teeth sneer. It lasted a few moments before disappearing, replaced by exhausted resignation. “They won’t leave me alone,” he muttered, facing the mirror once more, bloodshot eyes hardening into a glare.
“Who? Are they- are they in the mirror?” Dr. Iplier couldn’t keep the curiosity-- and, to his own mortification, a smidge of doubt-- from creeping into his voice as he stepped, then stepped again, cautiously making his way around Dark so he could see into the mirror.
But there was nothing; only their wavering reflections, warped and distorted by Dark’s aura.
He placed a hand on Dark’s arm. “Dark, there’s no one there.”
“What?” Dark snapped the word so violently that the doctor removed his hand, took a hurried step back. Then his jaw slackened and his expression softened into something like defeat. “Get out,” he muttered.
“Dark, I really think you need some sleep-”
Dark whirled on him. “Get out!”
Dr. Iplier hesitated a moment-- more concerned than afraid, more pitying than terrified-- before he gave a slight nod and turned to do as told, leaving Dark to whatever ghosts he was wrestling with.
"Tell me everything." With Dark and maybe Eric or Doc?
Dark and Doc. And a little bit of Henrik. I combined this with another from my inbox. Dr Iplierst implied.
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Prompt: “Tell me everything.” / “Are you warm enough?”
“Thank you for coming, Hen.”
“Of course I come.” Henrik declared, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat before bending to adjust the bandages plastered over a good portion of Dr. Iplier’s chest. “You are my friend. I will always come for you. Now, tell me, are you warm enough?”
Dr. Iplier grunted. “Yeah.” In truth, he was too warm with that blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He wanted to throw it off. Wanted to run. Wanted to curl into a ball. But he didn’t do any of that. He had to keep his cool, he reminded himself, and tried to think of anything but what was under the bandages. Tried to think of anything but those five lacerations gouged into his flesh, running from shoulder to opposite pec, crooked and wavering as if they’d been put there by a set of jagged, uncut fingernails attached to one trembling hand.
He heaved a sigh, and immediately winced as the action brought fiery pain into his chest. “I’m just glad we got this mess cleaned up before Dark could find out.”
“Before Dark could find out . . . what?” Purred a low voice from the clinic’s entrance. Henrik turned and Dr. Iplier froze as Dark appeared in the doorway, his mouth set in a scowl.
“Dark.” Henrik greeted him with a guarded tone. He stepped back from Dr. Iplier, carefully clasping his hands in front of him.
“Your presence is no longer needed here, my good doctor.” Dark waved a hand and suddenly with a surprised squeak and a wave of gray Henrik was gone, and Dr. Iplier was left alone in the clinic with a monster.
“You will tell me what happened.” Dark came to stand over him, hands folded behind his back as he fixed the doctor with a pitch-black glare. “You will tell me everything of your own free will. Because if I must extract it from you-” he paused, arching an eyebrow like he hoped to do exactly that- “it will be entirely unpleasant. And so will the punishment I will deliver afterwards.”
Dr. Iplier suppressed a shudder. Looked down at his shoes. Looked at the blood staining the fake, scuffed leather. “The Host,” he said finally. “The- the Host, he-”
“I’m waiting.”
“He was having a vision.” Dr. Iplier couldn’t stop the shudder this time; he felt it all the way from his fingertips to his teeth. “I don’t think he realized that I was real. He grabbed me-”
He grabbed me. He raked his hand across my chest. He howled like a wild animal. Like he was dying. I-
“I thought he was dying.” He hadn’t realized his voice had lowered until he was all but whispering. “I thought he was dead when he collapsed.”
“And?” Dark prompted.
“And I left him there.” Dr. Iplier looked up. “I- I . . .”
I just left him there.
Dark waved a hand, cutting him off. “Thank you, doctor. This has been a most enlightening talk. I will take it from here.”
“Don’t hurt him.” It came out a plea. It came from a burning chest and skin that felt feverishly warm. He hoped the wounds wouldn’t become infected.
But Dark didn’t respond; though Dr. Iplier swore he saw a delighted glint in the entity’s eyes as he turned away and left.
18 for Dr. Iplier and Dark?
prompt: as encouragement
Title: Don’t Turn Your Back
“You wanted to see me?” Dr. Iplier tried to hide the trepidation in his voice as he stepped into Dark’s office, as the entity looked up from his work and fixed him with a glare.
Was his default expression a glare? Dr. Iplier wondered, closing the door behind him. Was he born like that? Or did he perfect the art of Resting Bitch Face over time?
“Yes,” Dark replied smoothly, thankfully unaware of Dr. Iplier’s thoughts. He set down his pen and stood from his desk, folding his arms behind his back as he approached. “I was hoping you would do me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” He asked. eyeing Dark warily.
“The Host has been rather reluctant to supply me with information regarding certain futures.” Dark said it like it was no big deal, like he could care less about the Host and what information he was or wasn’t giving. But Dr. Iplier could hear the edge there, well-hidden and razor-sharp. “I would like you to get it for me.”
Dr. Iplier snorted. “Good luck getting anything from the Host when he doesn’t want to give it. He won’t tell me a thing, especially if he knows it’s coming back to you.”
“Which is why he won’t.” Dark’s grin sent chills down Dr. Iplier’s spine. “He never has to know that you are reporting to me.”
“You expect me to manipulate my own husband?” Dr. Iplier crossed his arms. “No. Not in a million years.” He turned to leave, ignoring every instinct that screamed don’t turn your back.
It was a mistake. Suddenly Dark was in front of him, blocking his exit. Gone was the smooth persuader. Gone was the calm facade. His face was a gray mask of fury and bared teeth as he seized the doctor by the front of his shirt, yanking him up to face level and actually dragging him off his feet in the process.
“You will get that information,” he hissed, “whether you would like to or not.”
Then, before Dr. Iplier could react- or struggle, or cry for help- Dark kissed him, crushing their mouths together.
It was horrible. It felt like all Dark’s anger, his greed, his power, was pouring into him at once. And, at the same time, like something fundamental to his being was taken away.
When Dark pulled back, whatever it was was completely gone. Dr. Iplier stared blankly at him, face slack and eyes glassy.
“I see we are in agreement.” Dark set him down, brushed the wrinkles from his shirt. “I expect you back with what I need by five tonight.”
A faint nod. Dark turned toward his desk at the same time Dr. Iplier- or what used to be Dr. Iplier- swiveled and stumbled from the office.
There was nothing more you could have done, docthor maybe?
Not quite what you expect?
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Prompt: “There was nothing more you could’ve done.”
The funeral had been a hasty affair. The Author hadn’t had many friends in life, and fewer seemed to mourn him now; only Edward and Dark stood watching the nondescript pine box being lowered into the grave that’d been dug deep into the parched earth.
Even the sun was out, shining brightly against the cloudless sky, as if nature itself wasn’t bothering to miss him.
Edward wiped at the tears in his eyes and scowled at the box as it slowly, slowly, slowly disappeared, wishing the man it contained hadn’t been so stupid as to go and get himself shot.
“There was nothing more you could’ve done,” Dark said from beside him. He too, watched the box, but both his voice and face were void of any emotion.
Edward snorted and replied bitterly, “because he was already dead when we got there. He bled out for … hours, Dark. Hours.”
“I know.” Dark folded his hands behind his back. “I saw.”
“But you didn’t let me in.” Dark had made him wait outside while he went in, dismissing Edward’s protests of I’m a doctor, Dark! He might need medical attention!
He was in there for a long time. Too long.
Edward had known what he would say the moment he’d emerged, even before he’d told him- coldly and without sympathy, in typical Dark fashion- that *the Author was dead.*
It took Google’s arms around him- pinning his arms painfully to his sides with his brutal android strength- to keep him from rushing into the cabin. To see if it was really true.
But he couldn’t. Google hadn’t let go, even as he’d sobbed and struggled.
Dark glanced at him. One quick dart of the eyes. “You didn’t need to see that.”
“Bullshit,” Edward spat, rounding on him. “I’m a doctor. I see things like that every day.”
Then, it dawned on him, and hope blossomed in his chest. “You’re hiding something, aren’t you? Is Author really dead? Who the hell is in that box in the ground?”
Dark smiled grimly. “Astute as ever, doctor.” He checked his watch, then placed a hand at Edward’s back and began to steer him away. “It is time we departed. Besides, there is someone waiting for us that I think you’d much like to meet.”
Hope continued to well up within him. Even as, behind them, the pine box was buried beneath shovelfuls of dirt. Even as he registered the oddity of Dark’s statement and the slightly threatening feel of the ice-cold hand forcing him away from the Author’s graveside.
Nonetheless he followed, and together he and Dark left without so much as looking back.
At the other’s place, kissing because of Power for Darktor
Title: Effortless
Luring the good doctor was effortless. No one dared disobey him. Whether it was out of fear or respect- doubtful- Dark didn’t know. And he didn’t care.
All that mattered was that Dr. Iplier showed up to his office, knocking tentatively at Dark’s door like he was nervous.
Which, Dark considered, standing from his chair, he should be.
While Dr. Iplier’s services were essential to the facility, Dark required him for other matters.
“You wanted to see me?” Dr. Iplier asked as he entered, closing the door behind him. “I-”
“How is the Host?” Dark asked, keeping a casual tone, studying his nails like they were important. Like he wasn’t asking a loaded question. “I have not seen him lately.”
He could practically hear the warning bells going off in the doctor’s head. Could practically see him choosing his words carefully. “He’s doing fine, I guess. As good as he can be.”
“Good, good.” Dark waved a hand, then stepped toward him. “I… worry about him, on occasion. When he does not return my texts or come to my office.”
“He’s in his library now, I think, if you want-”
“No.” Another step. A smile that was just short of predatory. “Right now it is you I’d like to see.”
“Because,” he added, taking another step. The doctor was in arm’s reach now. Close enough to touch. “You are going to help me with something.”
“Help you with … what exactly?” Dr. Iplier’s eyebrows rose and he made to take a step back, but Dark was too fast. One hand shot out to grab his shoulder and yank him in while the other hand came up to seize his chin, tilting his head up.
Dark leaned in until their noses just touched. Until their lips were just barely brushing. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re going to help me get my Host back.”
He didn’t allow Dr. Iplier the opportunity to struggle or cry out as he forced their mouths together. As tendrils of aura snaked out, binding the doctor’s arms and legs, dissolving into his flesh until nothing but wispy, curling smoke remained.
When he drew away, Dr. Iplier’s eyes were blank. Unseeing. He was under Dark’s control, now. At his every whim.
Dark smiled and released him, lifting a hand to wipe it across his mouth. Effortless.
Source “Darktor: The Power of Clams” by Emon/Knightt (2002) [DARKTOR.ZZT] - “death to the green ones” Play This World Online
Source “Darktor: The Power of Clams” by Emon/Knightt (2002) [DARKTOR.ZZT] - “the final battle” Play This World Online
