Farm Boy

Chapter 2

"Y/N. Y/N L/N Vermillion. Nice to meet you, Jack."
You said, offering a hand for a handshake.

Jack pauses as your hand is offered for a handshake. He considers it. The gesture was one he'd never experienced before. But you look to be quite open to him, rather friendly even. He decided that taking your hand was a fair exchange for all of the information you gave him.

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N."

He grasps your hand gently and shakes it, making sure not to grip too hard.

"I'm surprised you haven't said anything about my tattoos or scars yet. They're pretty noticeable if I turn on more lights in here. Hold on." You said, flipping on the main light, illuminating the room fully and letting him see me. Your hair was H/C and long, down to your waist with a few gray streaks. Your skin was a pale tan, with scars and different tattoos all over my body, including some on my face and hands.

(H/C= hair color, you can change details as you wish, but this is how I wrote it).

Jack peers at you with narrowed eyes, taking in your appearance. His gaze lingers on your face, focusing on the scars and tattoos. He didn't mention it, but many of the scars were quite grotesque. The tattoos were also quite interesting, but not in a good way. Eyeless Jack wondered to himself. You must have quite a story to match those scars, those tattoos. Some of them probably had meaning behind them.

"Some of these scars, like on my hands, here are from an accident with a flamethrower. Don't ask."
You said, pointing to the burns on your right hand, going up your arm and stopping at your elbow, reaching over to your abdomen, and stopping at your belly button.

He can't help but feel amazed. He's only just met you, but the amount of information you're giving him is astounding. A flamethrower? An accident? That must have been pretty wild. Jack finds himself wondering about this accident.

"How does a woman get her hands on a flamethrower? That seems like a rather... odd... choice of weapon. And how did the accident occur? What were you doing?" He asked.

"We were torturing some guy, and the rookie was holding a flamethrower because he thought it would be good to fry the guy. He didn't know how to use it and ended up turning it on and pointing it towards me." You said casually.

Jack's eyes widen slightly at your statement. "Torturing some guy"? That was... gruesome. Then, some rookie burns you with the flamethrower. You seemed rather nonchalant about it all, as if these experiences were the norm to you. Was this... the kind of person you were years ago? Or are you still this... monstrous?

"You seem taken aback, didn't you hear me say I used to kill people for money?" You chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

Jack nods slowly, acknowledging your statement. "Yes, I know. But... I figured those... experiences would have a large effect on you. The way you describe everything so matter of fact... it's hard to believe that you don't feel anything." He said.

"I feel things, I just don't normally express it until I know a person that well. I met you about an hour ago, and it seems you might be in the same profession of me, considering you smell like blood and your converse look like they've taken some damage. Plus, there's some dried blood... there."
You pointed to his sleeve, squinting. "and there."
You said, pointing to a stain on his chest.

Jack looks to where you're pointing and shakes his head slightly. He had forgotten all about the blood soaked into his shirt. He was so distracted by this woman and her story that it had completely escaped his mind. He considers this statement and nods slightly.

"You're right. I'm in a... similar profession to you. I do eat people, you know that. But I'd say that I take care of my victims a bit differently than how you... did, I suppose." He said.