The Darkness

You never knew it, but you were part of something bigger—something people talked about, memed about, obsessed over after school. A show that sat high on the charts, right up there with the classics. And somehow, you were in it. Not as the hero, not even as the misunderstood anti-hero. No—you were that character. The one people groaned at. The one they called a jerk, a bully, a walking problem.

A jackass.

Every episode, you played your role perfectly. Sneering, mocking, pushing others around like it was second nature. Maybe it was second nature. Maybe you never questioned it. That’s just who you were written to be.

Until the woods.

It was supposed to be nothing—just another scene, another backdrop. Trees stretching too tall, shadows clinging too tightly, the kind of place the show used when something important was about to happen. You didn’t know that yet, though. You just wandered, kicking at rocks, muttering to yourself, completely unaware that this was the moment everything would change.

Then you saw it.

At first, it looked like spilled ink. Thick. Black. Too dark, even for a shadow. It pulsed faintly, like it was breathing—or glitching. Yeah, glitching. Like a broken frame in animation, flickering between shapes that didn’t quite make sense.

You crouched down, squinting at it.

“What the hell…?”

You reached out.

The second your fingers made contact, it reacted.

The liquid snapped upward, fast—unnaturally fast—like it had been waiting for you. It wrapped around your hand, cold and heavy, then began to crawl. Up your wrist. Your arm.

“Hey—HEY—get off—!”

You tried to shake it off, but it clung tighter, digging in—not physically, but deeper than that. Like it was slipping under your skin, threading through your veins.

It pulled.

Your body lurched forward as if hooked by an invisible line, dragging you closer to the source. The forest around you seemed to stutter, frames skipping, colors distorting. You felt something pressing into your mind, prying, forcing its way in.

“No—no, stop—”

Your voice cut off.

Your eyes rolled back, vision flooding with black. Not darkness—something else. Something moving. Something watching.

Your mouth—

God, your mouth—

It felt like invisible hooks had caught the corners, yanking them upward. Stretching. Forcing your lips into a wide, unnatural smile. It hurt. It burned. And yet…you couldn’t stop it.

You didn’t want to stop it.

A strange calm settled in. Not yours. Never yours.

When your vision snapped back, the world looked…wrong. Sharper. Too sharp. Colors oversaturated, outlines jittering like they couldn’t stay still.

And then you saw them.

The main character.

Standing just a few feet away, frozen in place, eyes wide with confusion—and fear.

MC: “w-what is that?”

Their voice trembled.

They took a hesitant step closer, reaching out slightly, like they weren’t sure whether to help you or run.

MC: “a-are you…alright?”

Your head tilted slowly, unnaturally, like your neck didn’t quite work the way it used to.

That smile stretched wider.

Your voice came out—but it wasn’t just yours anymore. It layered, doubled, distorted at the edges.

“Alright?”

A soft, broken laugh slipped out of you.

You took a step forward.

Then another.

The ground beneath your feet seemed to flicker with each movement, like reality itself wasn’t keeping up.

“I’ve never been better.”

Your hand twitched at your side, fingers jerking like they were being pulled by strings.

For a moment—just a moment—something inside you screamed. A flash of your old self, buried under the black, thrashing, trying to break free.

But it was quickly silenced.

Your gaze locked onto them.

That familiar face. The one you used to antagonize. The one the audience always rooted for.

And now?

Now they looked like something else entirely.

Something fragile.

Something breakable.

Something interesting.

Your smile sharpened.