#mark bernard

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Their hands found the phone. Even in the near-pitch-black, they thought they could almost see the bright red plastic of its handle. It felt smooth and comforting as their fingers met it.

“You think he’ll answer you?” the Nightmare snarled next to Cecil’s ear. 

chapter 3 of Shattered Glass Angel is out! please take note of the tags before reading.

Wearily, the boy turned around, absentmindedly clutching at the crucifix around their neck with a sigh. At least it was over now. They could go home. There was something else out there with them. It was on the other side of the yard, but in the dark was the outline of something, indistinct gray silhouetted against dense black, dark teeth glinting dangerously in some area that Mark couldn’t track because they couldn’t see it but— but oh God oh fuck there was something there— (And a part of them knew that something was hungry.) Mark was right. In the worst way possible, all that uneasiness and the sensation of being watched— it was right. There was something watching him. Stalking him. Sizing him up. Observing every movement, every double-take and nervous, hesitant twitch, every vulnerability in his movements, in his thoughts. A predator, observing prey, waiting to strike. And the fact that it’d only revealed itself now meant that it’d found the opportunity to do just that. -- Mark Bernard and Cecil Iglesias are best friends. That's a fact, as immutable as the fear a child feels when faced with death.

chapter one of Shattered Glass Angel is out! this one's a collaboration with @mythicandco (@the-professional-cocomeloner) for our OC multiverse, The Many Hungry Teeth Of God. we've been working on this one for a while, and we're very excited to finally get this out. if you like identity horror, religious horror, and/or horribly codependent platonic relationships, this one's for you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61852108/chapters/172860898

third chapter

third chapter

need to remove these tags. the warnings are here they have come into fucking play this is not a drill

its hand is too warm in mine.

its voice is light and remorse-filled and too genuine for something with so many teeth.

i search its eyes for a sign of the hungry darkness that lies beyond and come up empty. again.

it never stops apologizing, in every breath it takes in soft mimicry of his.

chapter two - knock-knock joke/head on the door

Mark's uncle is a priest! Father Lucas Bernard is the head priest in the Sommerville Community Church, and the townspeople all look up to him as a pretty reliable listening ear who's also very knowledgeable about scripture. Mark in particular admires his uncle a lot and aspires to join him in the priesthood in the future.

and there's surely nothing wrong with that. the Father is a gentle, trustworthy man. there's no better role model for that boy.

I often have trouble keeping track of the date, due to the help I need to read calendars, but I never forgot today. I would never, for however long I continue to exist like this, for however long I exist as a mosaic of two, held together more by shoddy sewing than by the neatness of velcro.

It is the 25th of April, 1994. Mark’s 20th birthday. He was really looking forward to his 18th.

--

Bob and Graham come together to celebrate the birthday of a dead boy.

--