Creepypasta (Rewritten)

Origin of Laughing Jack (REWRITE)

A/N: Happy holidays, everyone, and welcome back! I have prepared something special for you all for Christmas. Today we will give the Origin of Laughing Jack another shot. As you probably know, the original version of the story was actually pretty awful. I don't think I need to explain why excessive gore is not scary, just plain gross. The point of gore is to supplement scares, not replace them. And since we saw the birth of Laughing Jack before our very eyes and he's been portrayed as a sympathetic, misunderstood character, it essentially ruined the horror aspect he might've brought. That's why this rewrite will be more focused on Isaac and how he became what he is today. How Laughing Jack became evil, where he came from, and how he was made is entirely left unexplained in this version. This rewrite was heavily influenced by the video on LJ made by The Infographics Show because it helped me find the right words to describe the tone. Enjoy the horrorfest and Merry Christmas!

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It was Christmas Eve in the late 1800s. In a small home in London, a seven-year-old boy named Isaac looked out the window into the night. He could see families celebrating together through the windows of the homes around him, singing as they waited in anticipation for Christmas morning to come.

In young Isaac's home, though, there was no singing. No warmth. And no celebrating. There was just silence; a silence that was occasionally broken by his mother's loud voice calling for him to do some chore.

That is, until inevitably, Isaac's father came home.

He could always tell it was him by the heavy footsteps that followed the front door opening. His father wavered and stumbled as he threw off his heavy overcoat and lurched towards a chair or straight to bed.

Sometimes, he could hear his mother yelling at his father, blaming him for spending their meager income on alcohol and other vices. He'd hear his father's booming response, and the fighting would start. In the morning, Isaac would exit his room to join his mother for breakfast and discover her with a black eye or some other fresh bruise.

That night, he stared out at the other homes, saying goodbye to the warm singing of Christmas tunes from the families inside. Isaac retreated to his bed, covering himself with a threadbare blanket and surrendering to sleep.

Shortly after sunrise, Isaac was awoken by a strange sensation. Rubbing his eyes, Isaac found a large, garishly colored box sitting on his bedroom floor. This wasn't like any gift Isaac had ever received. His possessions were all worn and shabby. Some were hand-me-downs from local churches and poor shops, and others were just toys he found abandoned on the street or washed up in the gutters. His toys' paint faded from long years of neglect.

No, this box was covered in fresh, bright paint and adorned with silly clown faces. The wood was perfectly sanded and expertly joined together, with only a thin seam revealing the lid on top with a small metal crank on one side. Attached to the lid was a simple paper tag on which was written Isaac's name.

As he examined the box, he noticed a small metal panel underneath: Laughing-Jack-In-A-Box. Isaac was confused, he'd heard of Jack-in-the-boxes, but he'd never heard of a Laughing-Jack-In-A-Box. Curious, Isaac began to turn the metal crank and heard the gears turning from within.

As the gears turned, a slow melody began to build, taking shape as Isaac sped up his cranking. Isaac recognized this tune. It was "Pop Goes the Weasel!" He giddily began to hum along and spoke the final verse.

"Pop! Goes the weasel!"

Isaac giggled along to his singing and winced as he finished the final verse, tensing his body for the expected Jack inside the box to come springing out!