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Jack stiffened, his eyes widening, face draining of all color.

"W-what?" He stuttered, his heart plummeting then rising, plummeting than rising, plummeting than rising. A continuous terrified pattern.

"I don't like repeating myself, Jack," Mark said, an edge coming to his voice. "So don't make me repeat myself."

And I don't like repeating myself, either, Jack wanted to snap back. So get out! But he didn't dare say those words out loud. He kept his mouth shut, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do. Call for help, maybe? He wondered, then shook the thought away. What would he say? "Please, come quickly! Mark, the Markiplier, is in my house acting creepy!" No one would believe him, let alone care.

"Well, Jack?" Mark questioned, and he realized he had remained silent for a moment too long. "Are you just going to stand there? Why not praise me, congratulate me, be grateful?"

Jack was left speechless once more. "What?" He managed to choke out. Be grateful? Congratulate you? Praise you? You must be insane!

Mark was starting to become impatient, Jack could tell. "I said, aren't you going to praise me? Congratulate me? Be grateful?" He repeated, his voice cold, threatening. Challenging him to keep quiet again.

"For what?" Jack demanded, blinking in the darkness of the room. Mark really had finally lost his mind.

"For what!" Mark cried out, startling Jack. He was laughing now, and Jack swallowed, tempted to inch towards the door and flee, run out into the hallway and seek refuge somewhere else, somewhere Mark couldn't pursue. But a part of him knew that was a terrible, terrible idea. A part of him knew that in the end, Mark would catch him.

"For what, you ask," Mark chuckled, as if talking to himself before he raised his voice. "You should praise me for breaking free! Congratulate me for escaping! Be grateful that I'm here!"

Breaking free? Escaping? Jack's head throbbed slightly and he clutched it, confusion pulsing as a steady beat through him. What was Mark talking about? He was making absolutely no sense.

"I have no clue of what you mean," he said finally, slowly. "Breaking free? Of what? Escaping? From who?" He honestly did not want to deal with this all at who-knows-what-time in the morning.

"Breaking free and escaping from him," Mark spat the last word out like poison.

"Him?" Jack echoed. "Who is him?"

Mark laughed again, sending a shiver through Jack.

"Him is the person so dearest to you," he ground out. "Him is the person you've been looking for. But let me tell you. . . It's gonna be a long, long time before you ever find him again."