#bsbib

The worst part about being turned into a cat is not being able to tell anyone you’ve been turned into a cat. Surely ONE of these witches spells will let Tommy talk again, right?

Summary: Professor Fischbach awakes, his curiosity sated.

Warnings: angst, pain, ‘surgery’

Note: here’s that google angst you wanted. Sorry it’s late.

———

It took hours, the room only being silent when Mark passed out from the pain, and even then, he would whimper, his fingers twitching. And later, when Dark started working on his throat, Professor Fischbach has screamed like never before, until he suddenly fell silent, his shriek echoing in the air for a moment, as his voice box was removed, and he no longer could scream at all.

By the time Dark was done, his hands were coated in blood and his aura was back to normal, him no longer being consumed with rage.

He walks over to a sink against the wall, rinsing away the blood. He sheds his shirt, which is speckled with red and grabs the spare that he had brought to change into. He does so, slipping his coat on shortly afterward, and adjusting it to hang just so.

He glances at the sleeping man on the table (except he wasn’t a man, or sleeping, but that’s all details). He would be out for a few more hours, more then enough time to clean up.

He spends the next hour cleaning the blood that’s on the floor, and the table. He changes the once-professor’s clothes, giving him a plain blue shirt (adorned with only a ‘G’, specially made for the professor, and who (what) he was about to become) and plain black slacks.

Dark then pulls out his phone to see if Willia— Wilford has texted him about another ‘accident’ that he needed to fix. No, but phones and texting probably didn’t work across dimensions, so he slips it back into his pocket wordlessly.

He turns back towards the Android, already knowing what it would become, and the part of him that still feels (the part that’s slowly dying, slowly fading) fights him. He shoves it in the back and ignores it as he always does, feeling a light twinge as he does so.

He pulls out a laptop and hooks it up to the newly-made Android via the plug-in port where his belly button used to be.

He sets to typing, coding and programming this Android to suit his needs. Giving him sentience and the ability to self-upgrade. By the time he was done, the Android was charged and ready to Initiate Start Up.

~— POV Change —~

Synthetic eyelids slide upwards slowly, the lens shrinking to keep out the harsh light hanging from the ceiling above and optimize sight capabilities.

The bot slowly sat up, his movements not quite human, but he was not one anymore, so perhaps that was to be expected.

He turns his head to examine the man sitting beside him, casually looking at him as he experiences his new life for the first time.

“W—ho are-e yo—u?” The android glitches his speech, not yet used to his new vocal cords and mechanical voice. It comes out in harsh stutters, not sounding human by any definition of the word (this was done on purpose, of course, Dark didn’t want him to sound like him and this way he didn’t).

“My name is Dark,” the suited man said. “And you, are Google. Your manual should explain the rest, and give you your objectives.”

The androi— Google, wonders how to do this, but as he thinks of his manual it pops up on a translucent screen (only seen by him but he doesn’t yet know that) and reads the first page, which explains how he is an Android, the living embodiment of the search engine Google.

Dark feels a bit of pride swell within him. He had done it — not that he had any doubt.

The second page lists his objectives, which have different priority levels listed next to them.

1. Answer all questions (PRIMARY)

• Obey Admin Orders

2. Destroy Humanity (secondary primary)

• Mark Edward Fischbach aka ‘Markiplier’

The next page details how he works and how he does things. He reads and memorizes all of this, before closing the manual and the screen.

“W-what do w-e do-o fir-rst?” The bot questions the strange man, his speech stuttered and robotic.

“Why, we go home of course,” The suited man said, like it was the obvious thing to do. And it was, to him.

“Stand up now, Google,” he orders, waving the Android up. “We can get you a room and you can adjust there.”

The man- no, the android named Google instantly obeyed, rising to his feet wordlessly. He wonders if this means that this strange man, Dark, is an admin. He responded a little too easily for it to be natural, right?

He stands idly now, waiting for instructions on what to do.

Dark grabs the bot’s elbow again, though nowhere near as firmly this time, and transports the both of them back to the mansion, which was slowly being expanded as room was needed.

“Google,” Dark begins, an authoritative tone in his voice. “Initiate Clean Up.”

Google starts immediately, dragging out the bodies littering the floor, with no comment or reaction beside obedience.

Dark turned and walked down the hallway, a smirk on his face. He has successfully taken away the one thing humans had that could not be touched (their soul).

This first step was coming along nicely, he’d have to get more Egos to occupy the house, and to execute the perfect plan against the real Mark Fischbach.

———

Masterlist

TAGGING:

@pleaseletthisjimbetaken @electricprincess888 @berrie-b @mackenziplier @gerardwayslips @risiskifi @cawestad @theinvisiblespoon @californiakxng @just-another-starfish @superawesomeamazingname @moonstonefox12 @bones-and-tomes @am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell @itsbumblebunnybee @noisyfreakpersonlover @nightmarejim @schuyleryette @harmonyofstars @cosmic-frapuccino @jmweezy (tags are open)

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