Dylan slumps to the floor, urging his mom to calm down and leave before he registers a chuckle from Laughing Jack, who's now sprawled across the bed in his usual childish manner. Dylan glances up at Laughing Jack, noting the unmistakable childish expression on their face, clearly reveling in the situation. "What's so amusing?" Dylan's voice lacks emotion as he regards the clown. His head throbs intensely, as if it might burst at any moment.
"Do it again and I'll gut you like a fucking fish~" Laughing Jack taunts with a playful giggle, eliciting a weary sigh from Dylan as he watches them close their eyes, still lying on the floor. "Thought said murder wasn't the only solution?" the clown laughs.
"Shut it," Dylan mutters before tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, realizing he must have bitten his tongue too hard. He sits up, spitting blood into a tissue he grabs from his nightstand, his ears beginning to ring. Though he hears Laughing Jack speaking, he can't quite process the words, instead focusing on their moving lips. Something about looking good? The next moment, Dylan's vision fades to black as he collapses face-first.
Laughing Jack POV:
As he conversed with Dylan, they suddenly stood up, spitting blood into a tissue. "Well, look at that, bleeding from a mere mouth hit," he chuckled, but his amusement faded as he observed Dylan's complexion turning notably pale and their swaying, as if on the brink of collapse. "Oi, Dylan," Laughing Jack's tone shifted slightly more serious as he locked eyes with Dylan. "You don't look too good. You're not squeamish about blood, are you?" he began to inquire before Dylan slumped forward, unconscious. Reacting swiftly, he teleported, catching Dylan before they hit the ground. "Hey, brat!" he exclaimed, gently shaking them, but they remained unresponsive. Could it be that they couldn't handle blood? It didn't add up; Dylan had seemed perfectly fine witnessing his gruesome acts before, showing little reaction to his heinous deeds documented in the articles.
As he pondered the events, he recalled Dylan nearly stumbling before the altercation, mentioning something about a headache. Could it have been related to the previous concussion? No, the doctor had cleared Dylan of any lingering effects. Or at least, that's what he gathered from the doctor's words; he hadn't been particularly attentive during the consultation. With an exasperated sigh, he gently lifted Dylan onto the bed, then fetched the first aid kit, hastily attending to the bleeding by placing cotton in Dylan's mouth and patching up their lips. "Stupid kid," he muttered under his breath, casting a glance at Dylan as they slept. Upon closer inspection, he admitted to himself that Dylan wasn't unattractive, quite the opposite actually.
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Dylan's eyes flickered open, and he found himself staring at the ceiling, realizing he was in bed. "What happened?" he wondered, his mind still foggy. Sensing something in his mouth, he reached in and pulled out a wad of cotton, now stained with blood.
"Well, look who's finally awake. Did you enjoy your beauty sleep, Sleeping Beauty?" Laughing Jack's voice chimed in from beside him, nearly causing Dylan to jump out of his skin.
"What the hell are you doing—" Dylan started, his confusion and unease evident as he turned to face the clown lying next to him.
"Just offering a bit of comfort~ You were having a nightmare and mumbling something in your sleep. It went a little like, 'Stop looking at me that way!'" Laughing Jack mimicked, punctuating his words with a mocking laugh.
"You? Offering comfort? That's rich," Dylan retorted with an exaggerated eye roll. Though his head was feeling marginally better, it still throbbed persistently. With deliberate slowness, he sat up and reached over Laughing Jack to retrieve a pill bottle from his nightstand.
"Don't act like I'm incapable of it!" Laughing Jack frowned, then glanced at the pill bottle Dylan grabbed. It seemed out of character for Dylan to have such medication.
"What's this?" he inquired, eyeing the bottle curiously. He remembered Dylan's aversion to such remedies.
"It's for my headache," Dylan explained, popping the cap and swallowing a pill before replacing the bottle on the nightstand. Then, reaching over Laughing Jack once more, he grabbed his water bottle to wash it down.
"Oh," Laughing Jack replied, observing as Dylan swallowed the pill. "So, care to elaborate on the fainting episode?" he pressed, but Dylan remained silent, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Moments later, the sound of running bathwater filled the room.
"Damn kid," Laughing Jack muttered under his breath, shrugging off his concern. After all, why should he worry about Dylan? In the grand scheme of things, he'd eventually end the brat's life. It shouldn't matter to him.
YOU ARE READING
Laughing Jack: How To Put A Jack In The Box Back In The Box (Laughing JackxOC)
Mystery / ThrillerDylan Winters is a 19-year-old young man trapped in the confines of a small town plagued by a series of gruesome child murders. Disturbingly, the parents of the victims all report that their children had spoken of an imaginary friend named Laughing...
