Blood.

On the walls, the floor, the ceiling, everywhere. Jack didn't know where it was all coming from until he spotted Mark's body lying on his living room floor with his arm detached by his side and blood flowing from the wound like a crimson waterfall.

Jack moved to help him, only to find that he was stuck and could only watch his friend bleed out. He tried screaming, except no sound came out as tears streamed down his face.

"It's...your....fault." Mark whispered fiercely with anger in his tone before he died, his chocolate brown eyes slowly fluttering shut.

In the distance Jack could Chica let out a remorseful howl for her dead master.

"Sean!"

Jack was startled awake by Signe yelling in his ear, causing him to bolt up to a sitting position, breathing heavily and heart racing.

He could still see the blood when he closed his eyes and hear Chica's mournful howl reverberate in his ears while Mark's last words echoed over and over again in Jack's head like a broken record.

"Nightmare?" Signe asked gently, squeezing his hand reassuringly as his head flopped back down onto his pillow.

"Yeah, different one though." Jack sighed wearily, rubbing his face with his free hand in exasperation.

"What happened?" Signe prompted softly.

"I saw Mark when he was hurt....he was bleeding badly, and I couldn't move to help or make a sound. I could only watch. He said it was my fault before he d-died." Jack stuttered on the last word, feeling his eyes well up with tears.

"It's only a dream, Mark's alive and his arm is attached to his body." Signe assured Jack, snuggling closer to him to comfort him.

"At least it isn't the same dream as yesterday." Jack mumbled with a sniff, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand before the tears could fall.

"What was yesterday's?" Signe interjected.

"All of my friends were beating me up and apologizing while they did as if they were being controlled." Jack explained, wincing at the memory of his friends endlessly punching him to the ground, their faces slick with his blood, tears, and sweat as they apologized while not stopping what they were doing as Jack cried out for help to no avail.

"Here, I'll make breakfast." Signe offered, letting go of Jack's hand and getting out of bed before walking out the door toward the kitchen.

Jack listened to the sound of her retreating footsteps before checking the time on his phone, squinting to read the time on the bright white phone screen.

It was only three in the morning.

"Sleep is for the weak." Jack muttered to himself before mustering up the energy to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed before hopping off onto the carpeted floor and walking toward the kitchen where he could hear Signe rummaging through the fridge for food.

Jack sat down in a chair and happily drank out of the mug of coffee Signe handed him while he watched her cook bacon and eggs.

Once he got his food and hastily scarfed it down while scrolling through social media, he darted into his recording room and locked the door behind him before walking over to his standing desk.

As Jack booted up his computer, he heard an unfamiliar voice whisper in his head.

"Hello? Sean can you hear me?" The voice asked.

"Yeah?" Jack replied uncertainly, frowning in confusion.

"Perfect. Now it's time to start my plan." The voice continued.

Before Jack could process what was happening, the world turned dark and suddenly he couldn't feel the carpet of his recording room under his feet anymore.

Instead he only felt cold concrete.

"Hello?" Jack called out, reaching out in front of him blindly as his eyes started to adjust to his new surroundings.

"Jack?"

Jack jumped in surprise when he heard Mark's voice and felt something fleshy under his hand.

He could faintly see the outline of Mark wearing a suit while tied to a wooden chair with rope that restrained his arms behind his back, Mark's head laying against his chest with Jack's hand resting on his shoulder.

"Mark, what happened? Are you okay? What's going on? Where are we?" Jack barraged him with questions.

"The answer to all of them is I have no idea." Mark answered with a weak chuckle, lifting his head up slightly.

Jack felt his body seize up when he heard footsteps above him, causing dust to float down onto him and coat his hair and clothes.

"They're coming." Mark whispered fearfully, swallowing hard.

"Who is?" Jack demanded, fear coursing through his body as he stood frozen, scanning his surroundings for whoever Mark was talking about.

A square door opened up above them, allowing bright light to shine in as a person wearing all black with a hood walked down with rope and chair in hand.

The person set down the items before closing the door and pulling a string that hung from the ceiling. A single dim flickering light bulb barely illuminated the tiny room Jack and Mark were trapped in.

Mark's body was bruised all over and had a cut on his forehead that had a bandage covering it. His wrists and ankles were rubbed raw, the skin burning bright red against his tan skin. He was wearing a black suit for whatever reason, his hair unkept and thickly covered in dust.

"Hello Jackaboy, I've been waiting for you a long time." The person spoke, their voice constantly changing pitch so as to not reveal anything about them.

"How did Mark and I get here? Who are you? What the hell is going on?!?" Jack spoke rapidly, growing more confused, angry, and afraid with each question he asked.

"Why don't you remember me? I'm the one that sent you those lovely dolls you sent down the river." The person explained gleefully.

"Have a seat." The person instructed, gesturing to the wooden chair he had brought down and placed back to back with Mark's.

"No, fuck off psycho!" Jack snapped as he moved to untie Mark and escape.

He was cut off from doing so when the person threw a knife at Mark's chair, embedding in the wood dangerously close to the right side of his head.

"There's more when that came from." The person warned calmly, twirling another dagger in their hand threateningly.

"Sit." They repeated more forcefully, pointing at the seat with the tip of the dagger.

Reluctantly Jack did as the person wanted, allowing himself to get restrained to the chair with the thick rope.

Jack squirmed in discomfort as the person stepped back to admire their work.

"I'll visit you two tomorrow to make sure you're both not dead. The rats down here are the hungriest at night." The person giggled before disappearing back upstairs, locking the door behind them.

"Great."

Mark and Jack sighed in unison with weary, exasperated tones as their heads leaned back. Jack felt Mark's black hair tickle the top of the back of his head while he stared up at the dark ceiling, wondering if he was having another nightmare or not.