#eyelessjackxreader

Eyeless Jack x fem!reader

Trigger Warnings: Parental death (father/ mother not mentioned), grief, slight suicidal tendencies/ideation, vulnurability, fear (If I need to add more, let me know!)

~After the death of your father, you find your way to the woods wherein you meet a stranger who needs something from you~

EJ has a medical cabin out in the woods because I said so

Also this may have eventual smut

Also not edited. I was too lazy

idk idk...

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Sitting at your father's funeral was not exactly the most stabilizing moment of your life. A cancer that started and spread faster than it could be stopped, then BOOM, the inevitable.

You could only hold back your tears so long. It seemed that they had been falling for weeks now, stopping only when you bit your lip and held your breath. The tightening of your throat holding you back from speaking too much, and simultaneously helping to hold back everything you felt in the moment. The pitying stares didn't help, neither did the constant unwelcome pats on your arm and back from people you hardly knew.

Then it was over and you were outside, walking away from the service unseen by the people grieving. You carried nothing with you, not a phone, a bag, or the will to care about the consequences. It wasn't a thought really, simply another moment, another movement, and you were walking away.

Soon you made it to the woods with eyes zeroed in on nothing but the space right in front of you. You continued on and on walking by trees and rocks that seemed so distant despite your closeness to them. Eventually, in front of you, is a stump. Your legs are shaky and your breathing is beginning to labor again from the tightness in your throat closing in on you.

You sit down on the stump with weary legs and a breath you can't quite catch. It doesn't matter how hard you try, the tears fall anyway. Rough sobs escape your throat and your chest tightens relentlessly forcing you to feel the pain of the past few months. Medical bills that will only be paid once the life insurance is sent, a rented house that you could no longer afford on your own, and two jobs that had no more vacation days left in the year. It was all too much, everything that had fallen on your shoulders, things that even the people who claimed to care about you wouldn't dare lift. The only comfort you had felt in months was the promise you had for yourself, the one that claimed you would get through it, that you would do whatever it took to make yourself strong again. But, sitting here on this stump, you had never felt more weak and alone. Your arms could tighten around yourself as much as you wanted, you could curl up into yourself and you still wouldn't be able to do any of it. That much felt like a certainty.

Time passed and the late summer heat began to subside into a calm coolness that did nothing to soothe the ache you felt. Sitting there forever seemed to be your best choice, letting nature take you, wasting away to become one with the dirt. But fate is hardly that kind.

You hear the crackle of a footstep, light and seemingly a purposeful hint of someone being near. Your head quickly shoots up and you look around you. Standing a few feet away right by a tree is a man. He was tall, dressed in a dark gray hoodie that covered the top part of what seemed to be a mask.

There are times you wish you had more of a reaction to things, when friends tell you of horrible moments of their childhood, when someone is hurt, or when you truly feel the worst mentally. You always find a way to analyze it separately from yourself in your mind. It is horrible that something happened to your friend, what are you going to do about it now? If someone gets hurt, they can simply bandage it. If you feel bad, what is anyone else going to do about it? This moment was no different. Seeing the masked man so close, alone in the woods, the temperature and light dropping second by second. Yet, you felt nothing but a calm wave of indifference mixed with relief fall over you. If he was normal, he would leave you alone. If he had bad intentions, maybe, just maybe, he would kill you.

You weren't exactly suicidal, you have never been able to call it that. Rather, you felt an indifference to death that seemed to always linger at the back of your mind. It wasn't until this moment that you realized that the relief was always mixed in with it. The relief of no longer having to deal with the real world, to finally have a real break, to just be still for a long long time.

Normally you would have called out or said something to the stranger, but in this moment your throat was too tight, and the tears were not yet done spilling, holding you hostage in the moment. You were sure you must have been a pitiful sight, eyes wide, face flushed and wet with tears, a black dress that had torn at the hems, and a cardigan that was a few sizes too big and ripped at the sleeve, chosen to help hide you from the events of the day. You couldn't do much else but simply wait.

The stranger didn't move for a minute, seemingly taking in everything about what he saw in front of him. Then he slowly walked forward, cautious and light footed. It seemed like he was waiting for you to run. But you didn't run, you stayed seated, watching the stranger in return.

Eventually the stranger made it closer to you, not quite enough to reach, but if you ran he could easily catch you within a couple of steps. Then he spoke,

"What are you doing here?"

His voice was calm and well rounded, deeper in nature, but nothing extreme. He spoke plainly without any real hint of curiosity, like the question was protocol. However, you could feel the intensity of his stare honing in on the state of your figure. Surely analyzing assessing the situation.

Unfortunately, you still felt unable to speak. A troublesome quirk that reared its ugly head when you felt emotional. It felt as if speaking were the worst thing in the world during that moment, not even a terrifying stranger in the woods could stop that feeling. Your brain was running plenty though. You mulled over every option in this moment and every tiny thing you felt. Would it be worth it to stay silent? Would he kill you if you did? Would he kill you if you didn't? Is that what you wanted? What if you ran? The thoughts had begun to be too much, your nose crinkling with a new wave of tears and the only thing you could do was bite your lip and stare at the ground in shame. It was frustrating not having control in the moment, simply waiting for your body to give back something you couldn't reach on your own. The man seemed to shift with your lack of response.

Another second passed and the man stepped forward and stood over you, hovering slightly and seemingly meaning to intimidate you. You could still only stare at the ground, now adding his shoes into the mix, dark ragged running shoes that had seen better days.

He spoke again, "Look at me"

It was a command this time, and it sent a slight jolt of fear through your body much to your relief. Maybe you weren't broken, maybe you were scared, maybe you didn't want to die. But the feeling was short lived and the other thoughts began to creep back in, the relief and hope you had for how the situation might end.

Bracing yourself, you slowly lift your head up and stare right back at him now close and above you. God he was taller than you thought. His new position gave you a better view of what was under his hoodie. The mask covered his whole face and the holes where eyes should go were deep and dark and leaking an even darker thick tar substance that you had never seen. You couldn't help the confused tilt of your head and the furrowing of your eyebrows, followed shortly by the shock. Widened eyes and a small gasp that showed your startled state.

What was he? Was he a he? Some monster in the forest roaming for his next kill? Was he a man playing a poor prank on someone who didn't consent? Was this fate? A monster sent to kill you on the day that you had wished for it? An answer to your prayer.

You did your best to relax your features, trying to calm the racing of your heart, willing the beats to slow down. Staring at the man seemed to help a bit, it gave your mind just enough distraction, waiting for his next move, pondering if his arm had just twitched in your direction. It took a while but eventually the man... or whatever he was... took a step back and turned around. He began to walk away.

The panic you felt was unexpected and unfamiliar. Your body seemed to act on it own as you stood up and finally swallowed enough of the air around you to speak, "Stop"

He did

He actually seemed to freeze, his shoulders tensed and his chest rose and fell with a deep breath. It lasted a mere second before he turned and rushed at you. The speed was uncanny, and you had no real time to react or even comprehend what was happening until you were on the ground with your arms held tightly against the grass and rocks you were slammed on. Your head ached after the impact and a sharp object was pressed against your skull under you, surely drawing blood.

He was on top of you, holding you down and staring again. He was silent except for the slight sound of his controlled and deep breathing. His body was stiff as you waited for something else to happen.

You weren't sure if it was going to, so you spoke again. "Did you want to kill me?"

Quite possibly the stupidest question to ask in that situation, and the feeling of your throat tightening again stopped you from saying anymore. You weren't even sure if you wanted to hear the answer. But some desperate part of you wanted to prove to yourself that you were either meant to live or die in that moment. It had become something that you were going to let him decide. The decision could no longer be in your hands, your judgement was too clouded.

Your voice seemed to startle the man again, maybe because of the hoarse nature of it, maybe because it was the only voice he had heard in a while. He released one of your arms, the blood rushing back into it after being held so tightly. You could see his hand now clearly too. They were big and the color was a sickly gray with darker veins running up his wrist. The shape was seemingly normal up until his nails which were dark and thick and sharp. You felt the light touch against your throat. The nails only lightly skimmed it, but his fingers pressed into it slightly, not enough to cause discomfort, but enough to be a threat.

He leaned down without a word. The forest was quiet, no noise to be hear besides the deep and rapid beating of your own heart. His face was next to your neck slightly tilted like he was listening to what seemed so loud to you. Was this it? Was he actually going to hurt you? Yes.

You closed your eyes and did your best to focus on calming yourself. The reassurance that you would soon have no worries was surprisingly easy to feel. You felt your body relax, hardly paying any mind to the creature on top of you listening to your heart beat. A light buzzing in your head steadily grew as you calmed yourself down. Nausea and tiredness wafted over your mind in a desperate attempt to release you from the stress of everything.

The creature now released the other arm and some of the tension it held itself was fading. Now it watched, seemingly knowing what was about to happen.

Eyes still closed, you went limp, your body had given up after being in such a state for so long. Losing a parent, running into the woods, the fear of a creature that still sat above you. All too much, and all at once deciding that the perfect time to release you from your thoughts was at that moment.

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Trigger warning: Vulgar language, violence, descriptive blood.

Your eye twitched as you stared at Jenny from across the dorm room, her nose buried into that stupid book of demons her and her buddy's fan-girled about. You looked at it, it was some serious HP Lovecraft Necronomicon shit.

You've overheard them whisper, about some Jack, Chernobog, and a sacrifice. You assumed it was some game.

But your gut said otherwise. So, the night Jenny gathered up a bag of robes, and a bright sapphire mask. You followed, secretly. Of course, she never knew.

By the time you arrived, hiding behind a tree, your toes quietly smacking into a rock. Jenny had scooped out Jacks eyes. You could only watch as she spoke in a weird language, pouring a liquid into his now emptied sockets.

His screams pierced your ears, as the rest chanted louder. You watched as the pain caused Jack to faint and regain consciousness over and over again.

You gritted your teeth, grabbing the rock by your feet. It was only seconds from the time you grabbed the rock, and you found yourself beating it into one of their faces. You couldn't tell who. The rocks jagged edges turned their face into mush, bone and blood splattered.

You could barely hear the screams and pleads of Chernobog as the group tried to pull you off of your victim. But it was too late, as you were wrenched from the body, his head was in shambles and his breathing stopped.

You don't know why you did it, perhaps it was because your father once poured boiling water in your eyes because he caught you looking at the tv after dinner. Maybe it was because you had an odd hate for Jenny, and the way she tortured this boy for her stupid, fake god really got to you.

You didn't stop fighting until there was a hit on the back of your head, causing you to fall with your face in the dirt and leaves.

You watched with tunneling vision, as Jack started to change, how his skin greyed, his body seemed to get bigger. The crack and breaking of his bones made him scream.

You couldn't hear the rest as you passed out.

When you next came to, you were being carried, the swaying of the person you were against gently brought you too.

You didn't move immediately, looking at the greyed hands that held you, thick, black claw-like nails carefully held away from your body. Finally looking up, you gazed at the sharp grey jawline, and a face, covered by one of those masks. The inky black substance from before streaked under the eyes, it looked like it was crying.

"Jac..k?"

He stopped, and looked down at you, the ink from the mask dotted onto your skin, he didn't say a word.

"Are you.... Gods, no you're not... Will you be alright?" You ignored the throbbing at the back of your head. And the taught feeling of blood matted hair.

Part 2!!!

Eyeless Jack x fem!reader

Trigger Warnings: Parental death (father/ mother not mentioned), grief, slight suicidal tendencies/ideation, vulnurability, fear (If I need to add more, let me know!)

~After the death of your father, you find your way to the woods wherein you meet a stranger who needs something from you~

This one is a bit long...oops

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You faded in and out while the creature carried you over his shoulder. One second on the ground looking up, and the other was the view of the ground with a shoulder dug into your stomach. The dizziness would catch up with you again and you would disappear into your mind again. Coming to once again when you hear the creaking of a door opening. You made it past the old creaky entry way before you were gone again.

Then came the dreams. Dreams about your panicked family realizing you were gone, about the anger they could show you in an instant for what you've done. Then another set of dreams, quick and gory. You watch from above as an eyeless man digs into a body with precision, the scene turning into a tall faceless man lying on the ground cut open. You walk toward him slowly and cautiously. Inside him a swarm of river-like fish flop against each other in the tight space leaving no room for anything human. Suddenly the man sits up grabbing your shoulders and revealing rows of rows of sharp teeth ready to bite. You can't help but notice the fish don't spill out.

You wake up with your eyes still closed. You take a minute to try and remember everything and to establish what is reality and what was just a dream. Eventually you become stable enough to open your eyes and try to move your heavy limbs.

The room you are in is dark, with a simple light fixture hanging from the ceiling in the middle. It reveals the wooden walls of the room and shelves upon shelves of medical supplies. You are on a hospital bed raised up higher than normal, but nothing you couldn't get down from. You sit up and your cardigan falls off your front. Somehow it was taken off and possibly used to cover you. Your limbs are rough and wooden, your eyes and face feel puffy and worn out from all the crying, and you see bruises around both of your arms shaped like the fingers that had wrapped around them and held them so roughly.

Sliding the cardigan back on, you maneuver your legs off of the bed and take a moment to let yourself adjust to the feeling of standing again. In the corner of the room is a window. It was open slightly and there was a cool night breeze flowing inside. It was dark now outside. You make your way over to it mulling over your choices. Having had a bit of a forced nap, you felt more reasonable. Not fully better, but knowing that running from everything wasn't your best option. You also begin to feel guilt over having wanted the man from before to kill you. You felt like a coward

Before the panicking and the tightening of your chest and throat could begin again you heard a voice come from the other side of the room.

"Don't go out of that window."

You froze, you had only been standing next to it and this point. Hands fidgeting with the skin around your nails as you decide on what to do. Slowly you turned around. Across the room, behind where the hospital bed was, was a door. In that door, there was the man from before. He stood towering in the doorway facing you, still but relaxed.

You could do nothing but watch as he began to slowly make his way over. He walked like he was stalking prey, cautious and ready to strike the minute it tried to run. You had no energy to run though. You weren't dumb, you were tired, and this creature likely wasn't going to take kindly to you not listening. You held your head up until he made it to you. Then, on instinct, it dropped to look at the ground instead. You weren't sure you wanted to make eye contact (or whatever it was) again.

You felt his eyes on you for a moment before he spoke, "There are creatures out there that would kill you in an instant. In brutal and terrifying ways."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you couldn't help but to look up at him, "Are you going to kill me?" The words left you before you could think them through. Direct, maybe too much so.

"Why do you think that?" There was no humor in his response. It was more taunting and stoic with a hint of curiosity. You wondered what face he was making under that mask.

After a moment you repeat, "Are you going to kill me?"

They seemed like the only words you knew at that moment. Your need for reassurance in one way or another was growing greater by the second.

His masked face slowly lifted as he looked at the ceiling. Almost like he was exasperated by my response. His chest slowly rose and fell before he responded.

"Maybe. Do you want me to kill you?", It was a genuine question this time, asked bluntly with a hint of sincerity.

You blink a couple of times trying to think of the proper way to answer in this situation. Before you even realize it and before you can check yourself, you respond "Maybe"

Your answer wasn't teasing, it wasn't filled with any kind of emotion or hidden meaning. An honest one that seemed to slip out of your mouth so easily. It startled him and you both, and lulled the room into a quiet stand still.

Eventually, you took a shuttering breath and did your best to try and figure out something else to say. Anything to create momentum in this situation that seemed to be taking years to get out of. Before you can do much of anything his hands reach out. You flinch and close your eyes to brace yourself for pain. Instead you just hear the window beside you close.

You open your eyes a bit embarrassed seeing him standing next to the window now with his hands around the ledge taking a moment to think for himself.

"I won't kill you yet, I need your blood." Silence fell and it wasn't until you tilted your head in confusion that he continued with a sigh, "I work out here, dangerous things happen, I need your blood for my work. Afterwards, if you would like I can kill you. "

"Why do you need my blood?"

"Transfusions"

"Oh, are you a doctor? Are you helping people out here?" You were startled by his response.

He stiffens when asked that and in a cold slow tone says, "I'm not a doctor, I make sure no one in my line of work dies and that's it." An awkward silence fills the room. You're not sure how to respond to that. It feels as if you asked the wrong thing, and you begin to feel your throat tightening in panic.

Eventually, he sighs and takes your arm again startling your anxious mind into focusing on something different. "You need to eat, then I will hook you up to an IV and I will begin the process. I will drain a lot. It will hurt."

He begins to pull you across the room, and you follow a bit scared. Despite that, you still try to focus on the situation at hand.

The man leads you down a hallway with two other wooden doors, cracked with age and use. After the hallway is a living space, or what could be considered one if there was proper furniture. There was one armchair in the corner with a lamp. Across one of the walls was a giant bookshelf filled with books. Quickly you spotted a couple that looked medical in nature. Along another wall was an old fireplace that looked unused. A slightly bigger door than the ones down the hallway stood next to a window blocked off with an old curtain.

You take a mental note, that must be the exit.

You are pulled into what looks like a pretty normal kitchen. Cabinets that wrap around the center, there is a space for an old gas stove, and another for the white fridge. It's odd how clean this place is, in any other circumstance an old cabin in the woods with a murderer would likely be dirty. Hmm, maybe you got lucky.

The thought makes you huff a little, not quite a laugh, but still laced with amusement. The man creature looks back at you seemingly confused. Luckily, he didn't bother asking about it and quickly sat you down at the small circle table in the corner of the kitchen area. He silently made his way to the fridge and began to move things around.

You took this time to look around a bit more. Next to the table was another door. This one was boarded up, crooked nails holding up rotting pieces of wood. You couldn't help but wonder what happened to it.

Then you turned your gaze toward the creature that kept you in its house. You still hadn't decided what he was. If he really was some guy with a weird mask and some kind of constant eye goo, or if maybe he was a creature. His claw like nails, eyes that looked but were never seen, and the way he moved around like a predator. You felt your heart beat in your chest go a bit faster the longer you stared. Even in the hoodie you could tell he was fit. The muscles that moved in his back as he bent down to the fridge were prominent and easily caught your eye. Suddenly you remembered him hovering over you with his hand on your throat. Your stomach clenched with something unfamiliar.

You must have been lost in thought for a while before you heard him clear his throat. Startled, you sat up straighter and felt the red hot embarrassment flush through your system as it always did.

"Sorry" you gulped

He stared for a moment longer before speaking, "Do you have any allergies?"

You answer him softly, calming down from your earlier moment.

He nods and grabs something quickly and turns toward the stove. You never thought this was where you would end up after running from your dad's funeral. The most likely outcome was to return back to your family, apologize and suck it up. That's what always happened. Now, you are in this strange cabin with a strange person as he cooks a strange meal, for your strange purpose.

You begin to realize how tired you are again, and rest your head on your arms and lay them gently on the table to wait. You could run, you think, could try and make it out the door and see how far you could get before he caught up to you. It felt wrong though, the idea of moving your body and facing the outside head on. It was dark outside, but that was hardly the thing you feared. Inside this cabin, though this man would likely kill you, you felt different than usual. Not safe... but contained. That in and of itself made you feel a little better.

After a while the man brought over a plate with pretty ordinary breakfast food on it. You had half expected some kind of gruel. He set it in front of you and nodded toward it, "Eat it"

You nodded, not wanting to upset him. The food seemed fine, and warm too. So, you took a bite. It was a bit bland, but nothing inedible by far. Chewing carefully, you did your best to look at your food so you wouldn't be tempted to stare at the man again. Swallowing was a bit hard due to your parched throat being dried up by tears. Luckily the man took notice before you had to ask.

"There's a case of water bottles next to you. Drink. You will need to stay hydrated too." He pointed to the ground next to you where several water bottles sat. The case was fully open and the bottles looked, for lack of a better word, used. He also took notice of your hesitation, "Drink them. You will be fine."

And just like that you have once again become obedient. Grabbing one of the bottles you realized the seal wasn't broken like you thought it would be. Before taking a sip you hesitated,

"Do you want one?" Maybe it was the manners drilled into you since birth, or maybe you had finally lost your marbles. It really did feel rude to not offer to hand him one.

He seemed shocked by the question, taking a few beats to give any sort of answer, "No, Thank you." Polite and to the point.

You shrugged and began to drink. You never really think about how thirsty you are until you are drinking again. The way the scratchiness in your throat is soothed and it feels like you could drink forever. You make it through the entire bottle, only stopping when it was empty. As you lower it down to the table you also take a moment to catch your breath. Little gasps as you reintroduce air into your water logged body. Soon you settle and begin to eat again. You were hungry, but not ravenous, you could control yourself better than with the water.

"You can have another" The man eventually spoke up after watching your water scene. "Drink as much as you'd like."

You hesitate before taking a bite and think it over, "Thank you, but I won't be able to finish the food if I drink too much now. I don't want to waste it." Your answer was once again an honest reflection of how you thought about it, and you'd hoped polite enough it wouldn't anger the stranger.

It sounded like the man laughed for just a second, but maybe it was more of a scoff.

After eating a bit more the silence in the room seemed too deep for comfort, so you spoke. "What's your name?"

He answered quickly "Jack"

"Ah what a normal name" The words came out before you could stop them, a thought that should have stayed a thought. Luckily, he laughed an actual laugh this time.

"Yeah, I was given it when things were a bit more normal." He sat back in the chair across from you.

Red bloomed across your face again but you kept going. Curiosity had been eating at you, and if you were already going to die, what was the harm? "Are you human?"

This time he paused, "...No"

A quiet, "oh", was all you managed to say as you once again felt afraid. Was he being honest with you?

He quickly sat up in his chair and leaned in closer, " I am not human and neither is anything else in these woods." His words were a warning. Telling you not to escape, to not even try. He didn't need to try though.

"I don't plan on leaving here." Your words were quiet, soft, and honest like they always were. The deep gut feeling you had was never ending and you felt as though you needed to say the words outloud for both your sake and his.

Your words seemed to do the trick. His body stiffened before relaxing and he leaned back once again. No more words, just a slight nod of his head.

The meal was finished in silence. Thoughts were swarming your mind like locusts. How honest were you about not leaving? You almost regretted saying it, but figured it was better than anything else at that moment. You also begin to wonder what he did eat. He hadn't made himself anything, merely watched from his chair as you ate.

You hardly had time to sit the fork down before Jack had stood up grabbing your arm to lift you as well. He wasn't rough, but his grip was firm and left no room for complaint. You were led out of the kitchen and through the hallway again, back to the room you started in.

Jack released his grip on you and began to move around the room to dig around.

His voice was soft as he spoke again, "Sit"

Sitting back onto the bed you woke up in, you looked around the room a bit more. Jack had moved to flip a switch and the room came to life. The light was dull, but provided light to the darker parts you hadn't seen of the room. One of the walls was lined with different cabinets and drawers that seemed to have been fished out of a dumpster. Old and stained, but still seemed to do its created task.

Jack had finished rummaging and turned to walk toward you again and sat on a circle spin chair bedside. Next to the bed was an IV drip that he placed an empty bag on it. You were beginning to get a bit nervous. He did say he needed blood, but it was still unnerving.

His hand reached out toward you waiting for something. Maybe it was the day you had, or maybe it was the energy provided by the food, but you did in fact lightly slap your hand on to his with a quick high-five. You regretted it as soon as you did it too, cringing and slipping your hand away. You didn't want to see his face, so you simply placed your arm where his hand was still waiting and turned your head.

He didn't grab onto it right away, probably still trying to figure out what had just happened. Eventually he did tighten his grip and move his fingers along your inner elbow trying to find a vein.

Jack was surprisingly gentle with the needle. Once he found your vein a cool liquid was rubbed on and the pinch of a needle was quick and precise. You felt the uncomfortable pressure of the needle in your arm, but did nothing more than try to ignore it. Tape was placed on your arm as well, and that was when you finally looked at it again.

The clear tube on the needle had begun to transfer your blood to a bag that Jack now held in his hand lowered below the tube, likely for gravity's sake. Now it was a waiting game.

Your blood moved efficiently through the tube and into the bag, but not quickly by any means. This had left you once again with a silent room.

On impulse, you tried to strike up some kind of conversation, "So, what do you need the blood for?" It seemed like a reasonable question before it left your mouth

Jack stared a moment longer, and you couldn't help but wonder when he would get bored of simply looking at you.

"Nutrition"

You wished you hadn't asked.

"And for infusions if necessary. Depends on who it goes to, and what blood type they need." His answer was matter of fact, and given with an entirely too normal of a cadence, as if this was an everyday thing.

You mulled the answer around in your head. On one hand, your blood was going to be helping people (maybe). On the other, your blood was going to who knows what in these terrifying woods. The tugging in your chest one again reminded you that it didn't really matter. What were you going to do about any of it? You ran from a family that needed you, and he has willingly been a participant thus far. If what he said before was the truth, you would be dead soon anyways, so it didn't really matter. Nevertheless you still felt some slight relief in knowing you had been a little useful, despite what you were useful to.

"How long will it take?" You ask

Jack pauses to think for a moment, "A few more minutes. I'm only taking a pint right now. You aren't in the best of shape, and I will need a bit more out of you before..." He trailed off

It was almost endearing. The awkward stop to the sentence, and how he once again stiffened and looked a bit uncomfortable.

You gave him a small smile, "It's alright. I know."

The silence lingered a bit before you spoke again, "How many times will you do this?"

He shook his head before pausing and seemingly contemplating his answer, "A few. I'll decide when I'm done."

"Do you do this often?" What a silly question, you thought.

Jack hesitated before answering, "No, I usually drain people when I'm done with them. Or I get it from a hospital."

The words done with them lingered in your mind. You shouldn't find it surprising that he talked like that. The idea that he did something to people and then drained them of their blood was unnerving. What did he do before draining them? That was a question better not asked.

Like Jack said, a couple minutes passed in silence before he clasped the tube to stop the blood flow. You had been so distracted thinking of his ominous activities that you hadn't focused on the blood leaving your body. The dark red blood that filled a pint sized bag held by jack.

The bag was set back on the IV hook and Jack scooted a bit closer with a cotton ball. It wasn't until this point that you got a good whiff of the man. Despite being rather close, you hadn't really taken a moment to think about it. Now with a full stomach, tired eyes, and slightly less blood you had calmed considerably. Jack smelled like the woods with a metallic undertone and the strangest hint of something akin to honey.

Trying not to be too weird, you quickly stopped consciously smelling him, and watched him work. If he noticed you being weird, he didn't let on. He carefully pulled out the needle in your arm and placed the cotton ball firmly where it once was. In his pocket he pulled out wound wrap.

He quickly worked it around your arm and placed his hand on your back with a push. You took the hint and stood carefully. Maybe it was the dizziness, but for a moment it seemed like his thumb moved in a comforting motion once you stood.

After a second he spoke, "Do you feel like you're going to faint?"

You looked up at him. You two were now standing rather close to one another causing you to try and swallow your nerves, "No. I'm a bit dizzy, but it isn't anything I can't handle."

"Good", he stated simply before taking a step back and letting his hand fall from your back. "If you feel like you are going to fall, let me know. I don't want to have to use any supplies I don't need." You nodded, the last thing you wanted was to be a burden

A moment passed before he spoke again, "Since you will be here for a while, you may use the bathroom and bedroom as you please."

Anxiety once again struck you as you thought about your situation. What was happening? Shouldn't he have locked you back in the dark room and left you until you became necessary again? Your thoughts were slowly becoming more and more dramatic, but you did your best to push them aside. The only thing that stopped the flow of your rambling thoughts was the idea of a shower. You were still in that dark funeral dress, but now you were disheveled with a slightly sticky coat across your skin from the sweat and grime of the day.

Thinking it would be better to ask, "Can I take a shower?" Just the idea of warm water made you feel a bit more at ease with the situation.

Jack nodded and motioned to follow him out of the room with the tilt of his head. He walked in front of you pointing to the first door you passed, "That is the bedroom. You may sleep in there while you are here."

Your stomach twisted as you thought about sleeping on the bed. That seemed to be the only room, "Where will you sleep?"

Jack simply shook his head, "I don't need to sleep."

Somehow that didn't reassure you.

Then, he went toward the second door and pushed it open. Inside was a small bathroom with basic necessities. It had a tub/shower and a decent sized sink with a mirror that seemed to call you to finally see yourself. You did everything you could to resist at the moment. The toilet was clean and a roll of toilet paper was placed on the back center.

Jack went over to the tub and reached down to start the water. He fiddled with it a second and creaked before allowing the poor water out of the top. He twisted the knob a bit and then took a step back.

"It should warm up in a second. Don't touch the handles, they break easily." Simple instructions and then he turned and passed you quickly to the door, "If you need something let me know, I can hear you throughout the house. When you are done, let me know and I will bring you a change of clothes."

He went to shut the door, but paused as if something dawned on him. Turning he looked at you again, "Turn around"

The command made your heart stop and your stomach flip a bit. He wasn' t going to kill you yet, he needed blood still. Was he installing some kind of tracker in the back of your neck like in the movies?

Nevertheless, you did as you were told and turned to face away from him. Your breaths began to quicken as you felt his fingers on you again. You couldn't help but think about how much he has touched you since you met. A small part of you relished in it, maybe because you were touch starved, maybe you were just having a tough day and couldn't tell the difference between a kind touch and a necessary one.

Either way, the moment didn't last long and you soon felt the zipper on your dress be pulled down carefully. You couldn't tell if you were more relieved or wary about it. Kind of him not to kill you.

Before you even had time to thank him, he turned and left shutting the door behind him. Now you were alone again.

You were still hesitant to look into the mirror. You focused instead on shrugging the dress off and peeling away any other undergarments. With a shuddering breath, you finally stepped into the shower and let the water run over your skin.

Like Jack had stated, the water was a solid lukewarm which still caused you to shiver a bit. What you would give for a hot shower right now. A bout of guilt hit you after that thought. What have you done to even deserve a hot shower? You should be grateful to just have water.

Two things sat in the shower, a comb and a small bar of soap in the shower still it it's plastic packaging. You carefully unwrapped it and went to work. The feeling of the grime and dirt from the day leaving you was euphoric. Water hit and washed away any physical evidence of your day.

You did your best to untangle your hair with the comb, but the lack of actual hair products didn't help.

The dizziness hit you suddenly. It was a brief wave of nausea, followed by dark spots that threatened your vision. You really did try your best to stay conscious, the last thing you wanted was to cause another problem.

However, life hardly works with wants and dreams. Shallow breaths were all you could muster as your body unwillingly went down. It started gently as you tried to ease yourself to the ground, but your body gave in. You felt your head hit the tub as your body slid down. The only thing you could do was shut your eyes and try to hang onto what little consciousness you had left.

You heard the faint sound of the door creaking back open and the shower curtain being moved to the side. Even in your state, you felt a slight sense of embarrassment, knowing that Jack had to see your naked figure. You kept your eyes closed tight.

After a second, you felt strong arms lift you out of the tub and into the air. Now you wish you had just let yourself fully faint. You were set down outside of the tub and propped up against the wall.

"Can you hear me?" Jack's voice wasn't panicked, but had hint of nervousness

Your head felt too heavy to move at that moment, but even so you did your best to move it up and down slightly, hoping it was enough.

Fingers pressed against your throat, searching for a pulse. You focused on your breaths, making sure when you breathed in, you also breathed back out. It was harder than it seemed at the moment.

You heard Jack make a clicking sound before you were left in the bathroom alone. You didn't even have time to think you were abandoned before he was back and holding your face in his hands.

"Try and open your eyes. I need you to be aware."

The words 'yes sir' floated through your mind, luckily fading away in your faintness. Now was not to time to be snarky.

It took another second, but you did your best to open your eyes. You had to furrow your brows to concentrate on it, but eventually you felt you were able to hold them steadily open.

In front of you was Jack, staring intently at your mask and all. He nodded and lifted something to your lips, "Drink". A small amount of liquid fell into your mouth. It was sweet and pulpy.

You were doing your best to swallow the drink, fighting against your own body.

"Swallow"

That did the trick. You were able to get the liquid down and took a minute to regain whatever you could.

He didn't force more right away. You both are waiting for some kind of change.

Eventually the dizziness began to fade. Your breaths became even and happened with little thought, and the black spots in your vision cleared. Your mind had cleared a bit, but not your limbs. Trying to move a bit only caused the feelings to worsen again.

Jack gently pressed against your shoulder, pushing you back into leaning on the wall. "Don't try to move right now. You need to finish this, and I will help you into bed." His words were soft but firm, his eyes never leaving your face.

You were able to nod a bit and let him continue to help you drink the juice. Eventually the bottle was gone, and your mind cleared the rest of the way. It was at this moment you remembered you were sitting naked in this man's bathroom.

Unfortunately he seemed to notice your growing discomfort and the way the skin across your body seemed to turn a different shade in embarrassment. "It's nothing I haven't seen before." You can't imagine how he thought that would help.

Nevertheless, you slowly began to sit up a bit more. Trying to cover yourself a bit. Jack watched for just a moment before reaching over to grab a towel from the bottom of the sink. He stood before bending down and grabbing under your elbows. You automatically reached to grab at his arms for support as he lifted you.

He gently and slowly began to help you stand back up. A slight wave of nausea hit you again once you were up, but a moment of stillness helped to quell it.

Jack held onto you with one hand and reached for the towel with another. He wrapped it around you carefully, and with your state improving, you were able to hold onto it to keep it up.

His other hand finally left your arm, and reached to feel your pulse again. It must have felt better to him as he let go of you completely.

"Are you feeling less faint now?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright. I'm sorry." The apology came naturally, you felt horrible for making a fuss about everything. A man that was supposed to kill you, now helping you after fainting. It was too much care that you didn't deserve.

He didn't respond, rather just pushing you gently out the door. You both walked a couple of slow steps to the other door in the hallway before stepping inside.

It was a small room. Big enough for an old wooden frame queen bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp. Jack moved you next to the bed before gently pushing your shoulder down signaling you to sit.

You did as he wanted, and sat on the bed with the towel still wrapped around you. He turned and grabbed two articles of clothing from the top of the dresser. "You can wear this for now. It should fit you fine."

Much to your dismay he took the shirt and rolled it up like he was going to help put it in.

Your eyes widened and your stomach flipped. After everything, you were not about to let him help you get dressed. You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. "I can do that. It's fine, you don't have to help me anymore, please."

It was silent for a moment before he lowered the shirt and set it beside you. He grabbed the other article, which looked to be a pair of loose boxers, and laid them next to you as well.

"Alright" He began to walk toward the door, " You need rest, if anything happens let me know." With that he walked out again, the door slammed slightly. You wondered if he was upset about everything. Trying to get something, and someone keeps causing problems. He must be frustrated.

You took a deep breath and began to get dressed. You moved slowly just in case, but were successful in getting the close on without fainting again. The shirt was a plain black one that was a couple of sizes too big for you, and the boxers were loose, but still stable on your hips.

The bed was covered in a quilt that seemed comfortable enough. The pillows were thin, but you still felt grateful to have them. Across laying on your side, you were turned toward the only window in the room, above the dresser. It looked to be almost dawn outside. Time had passed by so fast. You had no clue how long you had been in this place.

Eventually you felt your mind fading into another, more willing slumber. The thoughts of your regrets and fears acting as a bedtime story for your tired mind.

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I meant to have this out Friday, but I was unfortunately very busy. Luckily I had some time before work to get this finished. I will do my best to have another update early this next week!