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gottawriteanegoortwo · 2 years

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WKM Role Swap - Trapped in a Wasteland

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Now this…. Oh, this chapter is quite curious, for it takes the place of the story you know only as "DAMIEN". However, as you may already know, Damien is still alive and well. Which brings me to my question for you to ponder:

If Actor is hunting Damien and William, and both men are presumed alive in the physical world, what happens to those in the Void that he doesn't consider checking?

For that matter, how many people are trapped there?

Warning! This doozy of a chapter contains descriptions of body horror and self harm in the form of bodies rotting or being corrupted in the paragraph immediately under the read-more. Discretion is advised.

When William awoke to darkness, he thought it was a joke. It was an elaborate scheme, right? And now someone had locked him in a cupboard as part of the joke. That had to be it.

He stretched his arms out. No walls. Stomping did not give the same ‘thunk’ one would hear when in a closet. There was only emptiness around him… and light. A faint glow that came from him. At first, he thought it to be white, but then realised it was a very faint red. It was his only source of light as he wandered the expansive unknown. Was he even moving? His feet made no sound on impact. Nothing around him changed. Maybe he was suspended in a single moment for all eternity.

Tripping on something proved otherwise.

William waved his hands out in front of him. Nothing was there. But when the action was repeated after kneeling down, the trip hazard was dimly illuminated to reveal a corpse. It was a man that had been dead for a long time. The process of decay was already in full swing. The skin was draped on the skeleton like a poorly wrapped present. The sole eyeball stared vacantly at the nothingness just behind William’s left shoulder. The nose was partially gone, following the fate of the fully exposed mouth. Death was nothing strange to the Colonel, but even he felt a knot twist in his gut at the sight. His hands waved further down, allowing him to see more. Faint markings that looked like cuts on the wrists, a single bloodstain on the shirt - William recognised the outfit. There was only one person who had once told him that the combo of a deep red waistcoat, white shirt, and black, fitted trousers was his favourite outfit that he would wear until the material became threadbare:

“... Mark?”

But Mark had been wearing a red, silken robe the night he died. Not only that, it had been years since William had seen this outfit. Something wasn’t adding up. This looked like the Mark he remembered from long ago, back when the actor was a well-meaning, albeit burdened young man who cared about his friends and family. Now, William could barely recognise the face of a man who had died two nights earlier. He was a man of war. Bodies didn't decompose that quickly. It would be madness to assume otherwise.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed kneeling by the body, contemplating this bizarre discovery. Guilt for his actions had caught up with him. Had he been so harsh to burn the bridge between himself and Mark? They were so close growing up. Now look at them. If he had only tried harder to understand the struggles Mark was going through, would any of this have happened? An apology was whispered, remorse was confessed as he reached down to close the eyes of the actor's corpse. A faint breeze brushed over William’s shoulders. He looked up, expecting to see someone there. No one was present. Yet… Were there always dead trees around them?

He looked down. The body was gone. In its place was a little flower, thriving despite the snow around it. It was a white daffodil, with the core a soft shade of red instead of the usual yellow. Though bewildered at the unexpected change, it made William chuckle. This was the sort of theatrics he missed from Mark. One petal was gently stroked, and finally, he rose to his feet.

In his distraction, the world had shifted to a winter hellscape. The snow and dead trees stretched on for miles either way. If he wasn't careful, he would freeze out here. He had to go.

A gust of wind tugged him toward a faintly visible path. To William, it was like a long forgotten forest trek in a place that was slowly dying. Evergreen trees drooped overhead, their shadows stained with green needles. Deciduous trees were beginning to rot at the trunk. Life once thrived here, but only death remained.

Was this purgatory? Rotten souls such as the Colonel didn't deserve any sort of salvation (not that he was a religious man), but it didn't explain why Mark was here, nor did it ease the sensation that he was being watched. William slowed to a halt to squint toward a group of trees bunched together. The wind promptly picked up, pushing him with such a force that he stumbled back into a walking speed.

"Alright, alright…" He rubbed his hands over his arms to try and give himself a bit of warmth. Spending eternity wandering snowy wastelands didn't sound fun. If he was lucky, he might be able to find a cave. From there, he could work on lighting a fire and making camp.

As William kept walking, the weather began to change. A cold wind whipped up around him as the gentle snowfall morphed into a flurry. It was so intense that even with his arm over his forehead to shield his vision, William could barely see two feet in front of him. Whatever breeze that had been merely nudging him earlier had taken to pulling and dragging him in different directions. He didn't trip, so all he could do was hope that he was being led in the right direction.

Meanwhile, the snow was rising. It was nearly at his knees. It was getting difficult to walk through it. The cold was starting to take root deep in his bones.

"I thought the dead weren't supposed to feel this shit." Once more, he furiously rubbed his arms. It did nothing to give any sense of fake warmth. The layers weren't helping. He couldn't feel his hands. And then, finally, his legs gave way and he dropped into the snow.

Whatever was guiding him was pulling at his sleeve like it was begging him to get up.

"I can't. It feels like I’ve been going in circles. I can't see what's going on. I don't know what the bloody hell you're trying to do, but I don't deserve your help." Why was he trying to argue with the wind? William was too frustrated to care. "I have ruined so many lives today because I refused to tell the truth. If I had just been honest and told them I killed Mark, then -"

Something pressed hard on both his cheeks, forcing him to lift his head.

"I don't deserve any sort of pity. Go. Leave me here where I belong."

The pressure on his cheeks intensified, making the soldier's lips pop out like a fish. "None of thish should haf happn'd. Mark an' Sheleen are dead because of me."

The wind's howling was growing stronger, but it almost sounded like it was trying to mask a voice.

"C'mon, Will. You've always been my hero. You can't run away now!" A child's voice made William sharply turn his head to the right. Hidden through a layer of snow, he was sure he could see the silhouettes of two children running by. One had stopped, but the other turned to grab a hand and pull the first child along. Laughter rang through the air before it was drowned out by the wind.

"I don't think I'm anyone's hero any more. I don't remember the last time I looked myself in the eye when checking my reflection." Not without the guilt that had been eating him alive since the war. But that wasn't true, was it? People had viewed him as a hero.

Mark, once upon a time, had planned to write a great tale of the heroic Colonel. He was only stopped because an embarrassed William had jumped across the coffee table to grapple the pencil off him.

Damien did too. Despite the injury that should never have happened under William's watch, Damien always had faith in him until the bitter end.

Even Celine - who had been the last to properly use 'Colonel' as a nickname when William tried to encourage it years ago - always made him promise to return when he announced he was going on a trip as security for adventurers.

The unseen presence sharply tugged on his moustache, snapping him back to reality. In the time he was lost in his thoughts, the snow had piled up around William until it nearly consumed him. Was this how the story of William J Barnum was supposed to end? Was this the finale he would share when recounting his adventures to those that were closest to him?

"No… I can't let them down. They believed in me when I couldn't see anything good in myself." The snow weighed him down, almost to the point of immobilising the soldier, but he struggled through and wormed his way back out.

The wind rose to a crescendo as it violently whipped around the Colonel. The unseen companion was now urging him to go, go go.

"You're right. Self-pity later!"

He yanked his gun out of its boot holster and fired into the darkness. Nothing let out any kind of pained noise, but the darkness shuddered a fraction before it continued on. If he couldn’t fight, then he’d need to make a tactical retreat.

The rising snow was no longer an insurmountable obstacle as William raced through the wasteland. He had thrown one glance over his shoulder. He couldn't see what it was, but something cloaked in darkness was on his tail. With the sun setting in this world, it wouldn't be long until he was completely surrounded.

Then, like a beacon in the night, a building appeared on the horizon. A tiny, wooden cabin stood at the top of a hill, partially hidden by trees. A path lined with lanterns showed the way to go.

"I see it!" William felt that presence pushing him onward at a steady pace. All the years of training were proving their worth as he raced up the path with such momentum that he crashed into the door.

The cabin looked tiny, barely two rooms at an estimation. There was a warm, orange light coming from within, but the curtains were closed. The door was locked from the inside and wouldn't budge.

A tug on his shoulder prompted William to turn. The darkness had caught up. It was slower than before, nervously edging toward the first lantern until it struck and extinguished the flame.

"Oh God… Hey! Hey!!" He hammered the door with his fists with such intensity that the hinges rattled. It did nothing, but he swore he could hear rustling inside. "Please! Let me in! There's something out here!"

"Trying to impersonate an old friend? You really are desperate." A woman's voice, sharp and cold, could be heard on the other side. "You are not getting what you want from us."

“Celine?" The presence nudged his back, as though confirming he was right. "Celine, I-I don't know what's going on but there's something in the darkness and - oh God another lantern has gone out. Please, let me in!"

"Alright. Prove you aren't a fake."

William hissed a swear as he could feel the chill setting in again. "I remember taking an afternoon after returning from the events of Jumanji to teach you all how to identify a human when there is a possibility of zombies. You all scoffed and thought the idea ridiculous, but you all humoured me. Homo Necrosis are easy to spot. They are the mindless ones that just want to consume. Homo Sapio Zombifius, on the other hand, are more cunning. They can speak and think, but their impersonations are mediocre. To prove you are still human, you need to share a less obvious memory. Something that a Homo Sapio Zombifius wouldn’t be able to know."

Another glance behind showed another lantern was out, leaving only two left. He was running out of time.

"It would be easy for me to tell you about one of the many events you hosted with Mark during the drama festivals back in the day. That's too obvious. Instead, what about the time you knocked on my door at three in the morning because one of the shelves on your bedroom wall had come loose? Mark tried to be the hero and hoist it back up himself, but he barely had the strength to hold it in place because he didn't think of lifting the items off the shelf in the first place. Or what about the day when we were kids and you were trying to tell me the difference between a ‘curtsey’ and a ‘courtesy’? I kept getting them mixed up but I always knew the difference. I kept lying because I wanted to spend the time with you by myself without the other two around."

No answer, and his surroundings grew even darker. One lantern left. The presence that was by his side patted his shoulder firmly, then disappeared.

"Celine, please. I don't know what's out here. I can't shoot the bloody darkness!"

The door clicked just as the darkness reached out to the final lantern. The flame flickered, only to erupt in a flourish. William watched, wide-eyed, as the fire morphed into a distinctly human-like form with its arms spread out to stop the shadows from creeping ever closer. Before he could catch any details, a hand reached out, grabbed a fistful of his jacket, and yanked him inside.

The door slammed shut and was swiftly locked just as something slammed against it. He could see a shadow try to slip under the door, but it was no use. The cabin was too well protected for it to break through. At last, it retreated, leaving them alone.

William put his back to the door and slowly slid down with a relieved sigh. With the immediate threat gone, he could finally take in the surroundings.

To his surprise, the cabin was even smaller than his estimate. It was a single room that was scarcely decorated. A table with two chairs sat directly opposite him, just below a window. A basic sink and a small mirror were in the far-right corner. The ceramic bowl had an orange tint to it thanks to the low fire coming from the fireplace. Finally, just to his right, he could see a bed frame, but not what was on it. Celine stepped back into view and crouched in front of him with a hand outstretched.

"Are you alright?" In response, William nodded and accepted the hand to pull him back onto his feet.

"I… Have no idea what's going on. I found myself in darkness, then snow, then I was chased by darkness until something pulled me this way, and here I am. It's so absurd, it feels like a joke."

Celine huffed at the dismal summary. "I appreciate you coming to check on us, but there's not much we can do. Mark killed the two of us and is out there in their body. You should go back and help Damien."

"The two of us? Their…?" William's gaze drifted to the right. At last, he could properly see the bed and the sole occupant. They were mostly covered in inky darkness, but half of their face could be seen, which was enough to allow William to identify the District Attorney. They slowly opened their uncovered eye and forced out a weak smile to William to try and ease the panic that gripped the soldier’s chest. William's expression dropped as he approached the bed. “You’re… What happened to you?”

"We tried the séance again.” Celine murmured, moving to fetch a bowl from the sink. “Mark interfered and possessed their body, then sent a creature to take mine. I managed to stop it before it caused more harm when you were all outside the room, but it cost me my life." She knelt at their bedside, lifted a wet cloth from the bowl, and hesitated. "You were right. I should have listened and left when I had the chance. I thought I could get to the bottom of this if I tried one more time." The cloth was gently dabbed across the Attorney's forehead, prompting them to let out a shaky sigh of relief. "But how did you get here? There's no one else who could perform a séance. Damien wouldn't have the skills, and you certainly don't either."

"I know. I'm dead."

"What?" She looked up in disbelief, only to deflate. "So, Mark got you too, huh?"

"Actually… Damien did."

"What?!" The cloth was flung into the bowl with such a force that it rattled. In the blink of an eye, she was on her feet with a tight grip on the collar of William's jacket. She shook him, and the hat clattered to the floor. "Don't you start playing games with me, Colonel. This isn't the time for joking around. They used their energy to send you messages and warnings from their own memories to find my brother, and this is the shit you want to pull on us?!"

"I'm not kidding." He put a hand on hers with the intention of prying it off. Instead, images of those final moments flashed through his mind. Celine let go, eyes wide as she stepped back. When she looked him in the eye, he somehow knew she had seen the memory too.

"No… He can't be there alone. Mark is out there looking for him… Looking for you. Whatever sick game he's playing, he's not going to rest until he has Damien. You need to go back. Now!"

"How the bloody hell do you expect me to go back? I'm dead. I just told you that!"

"Death doesn't work the same way here! That house has some connection with a dark magic that I can't even begin to fathom. Whatever it is, it doesn't allow the souls of anyone who died here to move on." Celine reached out again. This time, she placed her index and middle fingers on the side of William's neck. "You're still alive. The pulse is weak, and you will likely be injured, but your body is still out there. That is why the darkness was hunting you. It wanted your body for itself. Whatever is out there, it's angry. Furthermore, that's why I couldn't let you in so easily. If it got in, it would have consumed them," she waved back to the Attorney. "I need to get you out of here. Get back to Damien, and protect him for me."

The guilt set in again. Was he really worthy of a second chance? William shook his head. "Take my body and go in my place. I'll stay here."

"Are you even listening to yourself right now?"

"I am. And I can't go back. Celine, everything that has happened here is my fault. I can't face Damien and know I'm the reason he's lost everyone he cares about."

Celine took another step back and bumped the bowl with her heel. "What do you mean?"

"I shot Mark through a rigged game of Russian Roulette that he claimed would help put the past behind us. Something switched the bullets. I left one in the gun, but there were four left after Mark was killed. No one would have believed such nonsense, especially not when the blasted Detective was after my head the whole time."

"Then Mark was right… He's out there looking for you. He has no idea you're here."

"But if he finds Damien first, he won't be able to defend himself from Mark. You need to be there for your brother. If I'm there, I'll be no better than a giant sign pointing to him."

"And what about me? I'm the woman he agreed to divorce amicably, then changed his mind the next day and kept me under surveillance." She turned to the Attorney, briefly considering them as the contender to go. "They're too weak to travel. They're only able to keep stable."

"A body might give them the protection to help them."

"It isn't that simple, William. Look what Mark did in his quest to possess them." She gestured for him to follow her back to the bedside. When she knelt, he did likewise. Her hands, cloaked in a pale blue glow, hovered over one of the Attorney's. Their hand had a soft green light, but it was the two circular marks that caught his eye. The wounds were barely the size of a water droplet each, with the dried remains of something black around the edges. They reminded William of a snake bite. "He tried to corrupt them with darkness from the inside. They've been able to fight it off, but it's weakening them. I don't know how far it will go. If they leave this cabin, they could be consumed whole by the darkness. I didn't heed their worries, and they paid the price."

William reached out and took the Attorney’s hand. A gentle squeeze was given in response as they opened their eye again. "You're a stubborn trooper. No wonder Damien always spoke so highly of you." It was the right thing to say, as their lips curled in a fond smile.

"That means one of us can go."

"And neither of us deem ourselves worthy of a second chance." William gruffly concluded.

"You promised Damien you'd always help him when you met him in the hospital."

"To me, helping him is reuniting him with his sister."

"He'd never forgive me if he knew I abandoned their friend here."

"He'd never forgive me if he knew I abandoned his sister!"

"Colonel -" A tap on the back of her hand interrupted Celine. The Attorney's eye was on her. They wanted to speak their piece first. It was a struggle with how weary they were, but they brought forth the idea that no one should stay with them. They were exhausted and only wanted to sleep. Damien needed all the help he could get. They both should go.

The idea resonated with William as he looked at Celine. "Can we do that? You have the ability to come here so we can check on them. We can keep working together if we stick as a team. Besides, I'm a strong guy. Two souls wouldn't be that heavy a burden."

"This might not work. It could change us if we get intercepted by those creatures."

The Attorney waved their hand and gestured to their head. If the pair made the journey back to William’s body inside the cabin, they would protect them with their own darkness.

Celine swallowed a lump in her throat. “But you -” The Attorney pulled themself up to sit on the bed. If all three of them could work together and save Damien, then they could sleep peacefully here. Despite their differences, wasn’t that the one thing they all had in common? Both William and Celine's arguments were based on what they believed was the right thing to do to help Damien, after all.

“They’re right,” William nodded, “and there’s more of us than Mark. Two heads to clunk together to get a good plan in one body would give us such an advantage!” The Attorney pointed excitedly to William. See? He got it! “And anyway, I don’t know magic like you do. Mark’s a magic user, remember? Look what he’s already done, for God's sake!”

“But -”

“Celine.” William reached over and firmly planted both hands on her shoulders. “Damien needs you. You’re the only one who can help him. I can't do this alone, not if Mark can do all this and more. Come with me. Please." Celine's head was bowed as William spoke. It was true. Damien was in danger and arguing over who went alone wasn't going to help. She nodded and put her hands on William's to lift them off.

"Then we better hurry. We don't have much time. If Mark learns that you’re here and not out there…" She didn't want to think about what might happen. William nodded. They had to go. She turned to the Attorney once she was on her feet. "Are you sure you'll be -" They quickly shook their head and shooed the pair with their hands. "Okay, okay. We're going. Ready?"

"Ready."

Celine gave a look to the Attorney. In response, they grinned and gave a thumbs up. They wouldn't be swayed, and they had William on their side. No matter how stubborn she was, she knew she was outnumbered. Raising both her hands toward William, she closed her eyes and began murmuring an incantation.

Around them, the cabin began to distort and bend. Only the three occupants and the bed were unaffected. The Attorney's one working eye darted from corner to corner, making sure that none of the shadows hid anything dangerous. Then, as William and Celine began to shift into light, they shot out their right hand. A wave of shadow burst out and wrapped around the pair like a protective bubble. Immediately after that, something large and dark burst forward through a twisted gap, only to collide with the barrier and turn to useless mist. Then, they both were gone, and the Attorney was left alone in the locked cabin.

Not that they minded. They knew Damien would be safe. It was enough peace to let them settle back down and go back to sleep.

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#writersofmark #who killed markiplier #wkm role swap #william the colonel #celine the seer #the district attorney #angst #body horror tw #body corruption tw #self harm tw

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