Chapter 1
Okay, so I know what you are going to say. Violet, Violet! You have two published fanfictions and 6 others to work on! Get crackin’ on those and don’t disappoint us! Well, apologies, but I was writing another Markiplier fanfic when I realized that we have next to no information about the Host! So, I did some snooping, and found a little info on his Wiki, and decided to expand on that. So here it is! The Host’s backstory! The format for this is a diary, so he is writing a diary entry. Also, somebody makes an... unwanted appearance. Enjoy!
This is the day. This day… This is the day the Author left, and I took over. Today brings back unwanted memories flooding my head, make it go away…
Pardon my sudden lapse. Dr. Iplier said that I should go back and write what exactly occurred. I honestly do not know why. He gave me this beautiful journal in which to write, and write I shall. I suppose I will use this as a diary of sorts and jot down my feelings here instead of narrating them out loud. I find it very peculiar that I am able to write in 1st person, instead of in 3rd, like how I usually write. Very, very strange. Anyway, I suppose I should stop stalling and get to describing my transformation from the Author to The Host. Everybody is terrified of the Author. Even Dark is a little wary. And I suppose that makes sense. The cruel sadistic MONSTER that he was. He would find victims in the real world and teleport them using his powers to a world of his own creation and then proceed to torture them. I still have the memories from those dark times, and I try not to think about them, but I still get caught unaware by the tendrils of evil trying to pull me down down down in the depths of my brain...
Um, I apologize about that. It just…
Never mind.
I suppose I should explain the transformation.
After The Author’s realization that he is just a “host”, for lack of a better word, to his characters, he started to get visions.
I need to remember… I am not the Author. I am the Host. The Host and the Author are two completely different people. We are different. Different.
He started to see visions of a man in a beige trenchcoat with a bloody bandage covering his eyes. Me. He was seeing the future. He was glimpsing what was to come. Then, they came. The souls of the people he’s murdered for his own entertainment. The people have hole’s in their chests, heads that are cracked open, brains spilling out of their skulls. Some of them had mangled twisted bodies, bent horribly out of shape and beyond recognition. Some of them have no visible injuries, and just stared at him with dead, blank eyes. There were adults, teenagers, and even small children who were just staring at him. Staring staring staring staring staring staring at him go away LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME IN PEACE GO AWAY AWAY AWAY AWAY. He sees the blood. The blood dripping everywhere. The walls of his cabin. The blood trickling from the leaves of the trees out in the forest. The blood was even on him. It slid up his legs, his arms, and it started to pull him down. When he screamed at the dead people to help him, help me, please…
But they did nothing. And looked at him. And the man. The man with the bloody blindfold always haunted him. He was always there. Always watching him, haunting him, stalking him. In his deranged mind, The Author knew that it was his eyes that were projecting his vision. And so, he stumbled into Markiplier Manor, somehow without any of the Egos that were currently alive noticing him, and made his way to Dr. Iplier’s office to grab a scalpel. And so, The Author proceeded to gouge out his own eyes. His visions of blood came partially true, as blood splattered all over his black shirt and was running down his face in rivulets. His screams echoed through the house, and Dr, Iplier came bursting into the clinic. He came just in time to keep the Host from bleeding out. For the Author has already made his painful transformation.
I am a little ashamed to admit that I am terrified of the Author. You should be. I’m coming for you, Host. Sometimes it feels as if he was lurking just outside my brain space, just waiting to invade and take over me again. I have to say, it is very distressing. You banished me into the Void! You made me go crazy, go insane with your presence, made me tear out my own eyes. And for that, you will pay in blood, death, and misery. I will make you suffer. Well, that is all I have to say for now. I feel... strange. Maybe I will ask Dr. Iplier to check me over.
-The Host
Whoo! Any guesses on who the italics and bolded word thingies are? This is a sort of prequel to a story that I am currently trying (struggling) to write. If you liked it, leave a comment or review or something! Okay, back to my pit of writing! *dives into Hobbit Hole*
