Laughing Jack: How To Put A Jack In The Box Back In The Box (Laughing JackxOC)

Chapter 7: Laughing Jack

"...As they stood there staring at their reflection in the mirror, realizing what they had become, horror dawned on their face. Pop!" Dylan groans audibly, his annoyance palpable. He halts what he's doing to turn around and shoot a glare at Laughing Jack, who's lounging on the bed, laughing and popping bubble gum with careless abandon. "Will you please stop that?" Dylan interjects flatly, his irritation evident. "I can't focus on what I'm doing when you keep popping that gum."

It had been nearly a week, and all the damn clown seemed to do was incessantly annoy Dylan at every possible moment, driving him to the brink of frustration.

"Not a chance!~" Laughing Jack cackles mischievously, rolling onto his stomach and propping his chin on the back of his hands. He swings his feet back and forth like an overgrown child. "Well, you could just give me my box.~" he singsongs, tilting his head.

Although he relishes in annoying this little mouse, Laughing Jack can't deny that he also wants his box back. After all, he has his own agenda to attend to—like keeping Slenderman in the dark about this whole ordeal. But for now, he's content to play the part of the playful trickster, reveling in the chaos he's causing.

"Not a chance," Dylan muttered, his tone flat, as he closed his laptop. He deftly unlocked a drawer in his desk, slipping the laptop inside before securing it with a decisive click. Dylan made sure it was locked tight—an unfortunate necessity to thwart his stepfather's relentless attempts to pilfer his belongings for drug money. Constantly having to safeguard his possessions was a hassle.

"Oh, come on little mouse!" Laughing Jack groaned in frustration, his expression falling into a frown as he stood up from the desk. "It's best for both of us!" he insisted, feeling annoyed that he couldn't sway Dylan like he could with half the kids in town—or anyone, for that matter. Laughing Jack couldn't help but notice Dylan's utter lack of pity for anyone or anything. Unlike the rest of the town, who seemed to be at least somewhat affected by his sinister intentions, Dylan remained unfazed. He wasn't even bothered by the clown's graphic descriptions of his next victims; instead, he was simply annoyed, wanting Laughing Jack to cease his ramblings and leave him in peace.

"Best for us? Or just for you?" Dylan's expression remained impassive as he locked eyes with Laughing Jack, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He scrutinized the clown lounging nonchalantly on his bed, a strange contrast between his sinister appearance and his childlike demeanor. It was difficult to reconcile the image of this playful, almost innocent-seeming clown with the brutal child murderer he knew him to be. "And for the hundredth time," Dylan reiterated, his patience wearing thin, "stop calling me 'Little Mouse.' I'm not a mouse, Clown," he insisted, his voice edged with irritation. The nickname grated on him like nails on a chalkboard. Despite Dylan's repeated protests, the clown seemed determined to persist with his playful jabs. "My name is Dylan, so use it, or don't bother speaking to me."

"Then stop calling me a clown! I have a name, you know!" Laughing Jack retorted, his brow furrowing as he ceased swaying his legs in frustration.

"A name you haven't bothered to share," Dylan countered, maintaining a calm demeanor as he met Laughing Jack's gaze.

"Oh, how forgetful of me!" Laughing Jack chuckled, springing to his feet and landing on the bed with exaggerated flair. "I am the one and only Jack In The Box—" he began, launching into what seemed to be a grand introduction, but Dylan interrupted him.

"Get to the point. I have places to be," Dylan interjected flatly, unamused by the clown's theatrics.

"Can't you be patient? I was getting there. Unless you want me to keep calling you Little Mouse, you brat," Laughing Jack frowned down at Dylan, his playful demeanor momentarily overshadowed by irritation.

"Fine, just make it quick," Dylan sighed, resigned to endure another round of the clown's antics. At this rate, the clown seemed more likely to annoy him to death than to carry out any sinister plans. As Laughing Jack cleared his throat to continue, Dylan braced himself for whatever nonsense would follow.

"I am the one and only Jack in the Box! Laughing Jack!" Laughing Jack exclaimed, popping confetti into Dylan's unamused face. Despite his expectation of a reaction, Dylan remained impassive, merely instructing the clown to clean up the mess of confetti. "Can't you be a little more expressive?" Laughing Jack remarked flatly, a disappointed frown creasing his painted features. With a snap of his fingers, he made the confetti vanish, expecting a more animated response from Dylan.

"This is me being expressive—how else should I?" Dylan retorted, his expression remaining stoic, as if it were the only reaction he knew. He couldn't fathom why anyone would find joy in such childish antics.

"Like a smile! Or clapping! Like a normal person would do!" Laughing Jack exclaimed, searching Dylan's face for any hint of comprehension. "You do know how to, don't you?"

"I don't need to," Dylan replied flatly, his tone devoid of emotion. For him, smiling and laughing were distant memories, lost to time. He failed to see the point in such displays of emotion. Whenever someone smiled at him, it felt like pity, or worse, like his mother's attempt to conceal her shortcomings as a parent. Sure, he could fake a smile, but it rang hollow, lacking any genuine emotion.

"Don't tell me you can't smile!? How can someone not? Come on, just a smile!" Laughing Jack insisted, reaching out to grab Dylan's face and contort it into a smile. But Dylan only responded with annoyance, swatting Jack's hands away and pulling back.

"Knock it off and stop it. I don't need to smile, nor do I even remember how to," Dylan snapped coldly, his patience wearing thin. "Now I'm leaving. I have places to be." With that, he turned to leave, not even sparing a glance back at Laughing Jack.

Dylan didn't worry about the music box; he kept it locked up somewhere Laughing Jack couldn't reach. Unfortunately for him, the persistent clown followed him as always, incessantly badgering him about his inability to smile. "I really need to figure out how to get rid of this clown without it killing me," Dylan thought to himself as he headed out the door, the weight of his unwanted companion heavy on his mind.