Glass Eye (Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Chapter Six

I didn't get to see the house in it's entirety, so going back and confronting her wasn't the best idea, not yet anyway.

I hadn't thought about how complex my final mission really was. To corner a grieving woman with quite literally nothing left to lose could be messy. I needed to work around her and anticipate her movements, which was something I hadn't had to worry about in a very long time. Generally, if my targets fought back against me, I would spare no time killing them. But I needed this one alive. If there was anything I hated more than having heat from police on my back, it was having to actually interact with a human beyond the typical regimen. Humans were my prey and I was their predator; I never had much in common with them anyway. How could I? My diet was their innards and my career was murdering them.

I approached my newly built residence and swung the door open, leaving it ajar to let the fresh air from the night flow in. My colleagues had built it for me as a sort of going-away present, and they hadn't included a lock. Not really any reason to. Usually, a lock would be used to prevent those with ill-intention from coming into your home. I was what locks were created for.

I passed the spare room to my left, and the small bathroom directly across the hall from the spare room, and headed straight toward the loveseat in the living room. They had adorned the little cabin with furniture they had collected while doing assignments, so though the furniture was mismatched, at least it was furnished.

Jeff had gathered his own little collection of "acquired" furniture from his assignments to furnish my bedroom and the spare room. He was close enough to me to know my tastes pretty well, which weren't fancy by any means. A queen size mattress on a box spring outfitted in a plaid, seemingly hand-sewn quilt and two pillows made up the majority of my room. Jeff's little gift that Slenderman mentioned before I left the mansion was a hand-built nightstand, complete with two drawers and a small open storage space toward the bottom. Of course, being from Jeff, he had to do something ridiculous. He filled the first drawer to the very brim with Trojan condoms, a hand-written note lay atop the pile of rubbers that read,' Your last assignment? That's big dick energy. Congrats bro, but seriously, get laid.'

The cabin came complete with running water and functional electricity, though the ceiling light in the kitchenette would flicker every now and then. I couldn't find the heart to be ungrateful for anything. It was much more than I was expecting, and I hadn't expected them to give me anything upon my departure in the first place. I went in with no expectations, and wanted to leave the same way. It was incredible that Tim, Brian, Jeff and Ben could even find time to build something like this between assignments, especially since Toby was on the field during that time.

I sat back on the loveseat, surprised at how comfortable the thing actually was. Though it had been a couple hours since I stalked (Name's) house, I kept thinking back to her throwing the bottles all over her house. I couldn't pretend to be familiar with human emotions, and wouldn't try to. It boggled my mind that the death of one could be so detrimental. She seemed absolutely manic, and over the death of someone she claimed out loud she hated. Well, not particularly 'out loud' if she was saying it in the privacy of her home, but still. What could cause such a visceral reaction? Humans were confusing. Their emotions were complex and unnecessary. Why allow yourself to be so torn up about something, you destroy your own property? Feelings are fleeting, and people are replaceable. Every time they fell in love, they'd say, 'I'll never find someone like this again.' Then when that relationship ends, they say the exact same thing about the next person. They play games with themselves and lie about what they really want to save other's feelings, yet end up hurting the person they were trying to save worse in the end by lying. 

I couldn't help but wonder if (Name) had been guilty of that. Had she lied about loving Henry to spare his feelings? Lies, lies, lies. All humans seemed to know how to do is lie and hurt one another to the point of psychological breakdown, yet had the audacity to label me a monster?

Pathetic. They proved entertaining to torture, though. But beyond interaction that benefitted me, I didn't have any reason to go looking for companionship in one. 

A devil. A monster. An abomination. The antichrist. A demon.

To them, I was an organ-eating monster with no other thoughts than to kill and devour. And for them, I played that role. Not only played it, but lived it. 

I sucked in a breath, exhaling sharply as I had let my frustration get the better of me. I had to come up with a plan on when to go back, and what I'd do when I got there. I desperately needed to scope out the rest of the house so kidnapping (Name) wouldn't be any more difficult than it was surely going to be. 

Then, it hit me. I had no doubt that with how intoxicated she seemed to be, she would be sleeping in a little extra late. Seeing as how I had arrived at her house near four in the morning or so, it would only make sense to make my comeback sometime in the afternoon. She would be just awakening to see her mess, and undoubtedly try to clean it. I could sneak in her back door, assuming it was still open with just the screen barricading it, and confront her.

It would be risky, but the entire assignment was inherently risky. Kidnapping could be tricky if you didn't have the right experience. You needed to have just enough self-control to not go overboard with any fear-tactics or violence to make them do what you want. There's always the chance of the intended victim escaping, but in my case, I didn't really factor that in as a major concern. I'd make her show me the location of the laptop, then bring her and the device here and get the wiring done promptly after arrival.

But how would I subdue her in a way that wouldn't be obvious while we were leaving her home? She couldn't have the option to scream, run, or fight.

I had an idea, but it definitely wasn't the most comfortable. Not that I was worried about her comfortability, but my own.

--So, ( I don't know the word, possibly prequel?) this is meant to be the mindset Jack went through when decided to make his rounds back to (Name's) house so soon after the first visit. How do you think Jack is going to subdue (Name)? As always, if you're going to Meatball, do it Extravagantly.--