Chains: Eyeless Jack X Reader

Prologue

All credit goes to Valentinesdaygreen a great deviantart writer.

             I leaned against the wall clutching my stomach, panting heavily and feeling numb all over. Blood was splattered all over me, and I'm pretty sure about a quarter of it was my own, but I couldn't really focus on that. Right now, all I could think about was the limp figure lying on the ground in front of me, blood pooling around him. A knife lay on the ground next to his open hand, the glistening blade tinted with red. The same red on my shirt. My stomach lurched at the thought that it had come from me.

          "Buddy..." I choked, covering my mouth as tears formed in my eyes. Memories flashed by as I stared at his corpse, remembering his bright smile and deep, horse-like laugh. He'd taken me in when I was a little kid after my parents pretty much abandoned me. We lived alone in the mountains, miles away from other people with only a computer connecting us to the rest of the world. Even so, we were never lonely. We had each other, and I grew up happy and loved. He was supposed to be my guardian, my protector.

          And now, he was dead.

          And he had tried to kill me.

          Vomit crept up the back of my throat, and I didn't know whether to swallow it or just let it out. Why? Why had he tried to kill me? We'd had so much fun over the years, not once did I ever see any signs indicating he didn't like me. There was no abuse, no disconcerting looks or terrifying nights. He loved me, like his own daughter, and I loved him back like a father or uncle. All I could imagine was his warm, loving smile as I stared at his face, eyes glazed open and his expression now permanently etched with pain. At this point I can't hold the vomit back anymore, and I hunched over and puked.

          I couldn't understand. That morning he'd been so normal when he left for town to go on his weekly shopping trip. He'd even joked about buying me sexy underwear even though I have no need for it. Why had he been covered in blood when he stumbled out of his pickup truck? Why had he swung that knife at me when I brought him inside to get first aid? Why had he kept looking at the basement?

          The basement.

          My eyes darted over to the door behind his corpse, my breathing still heavy. I'd been in there a few times, but not often. It wasn't that I was forbidden to go there, I just didn't want to. He'd filled it with stuff about monsters and murderers and stuff. Buddy was a horror fanatic, always had been, but he never could get me into it as much as him. He spent a lot of time down there, watching horror movies and stuff like that, but now that I thought about it he'd been going down there more and more.

          Was that the reason? Had he become so obsessed with the serial killers in movies that he decided to become one? The thought was ridiculous-if being a horror fan was enough to become a killer, that stuff would have been illegal by now-but the Buddy I knew wouldn't murder someone. He just wouldn't. Not a stranger, not an intruder, and especially not me. Wiping the vomit from my mouth, I stumbled to my feet, using the wall for support. Sharp pain shot through my side where he'd stabbed me, but I didn't care.

          Slowly I approached the door and grabbed the handle, taking a deep breath before I opened it and entered the dark abyss.

          ~*~

          How long had it been since he had last seen the sky? How long since he had last been able to roam freely?

          Those were the questions on Jack's mind as he sat in the corner of the room, arms suspended above his head by metal shackles and his hands stuffed into steel mittens. It had been so long since he'd last held his scalpel, so long since he'd last been able to move freely. The human mind could only be idle for so long, and even though he wasn't human anymore, he could still feel what remained of his sanity slowly slipping away. A failed attack had led to him getting captured, but instead of being turned over to the police like expected he'd been chained in his intended victim's basement, with no visible means of escape. The only comfort left was that his captor had allowed him to retain his mask, only removing it to feed his inhuman prisoner.

           The door creaked and Jack tensed, listening as footsteps descended the stairs. The scent of blood laced the air, making his stomach growl in hunger. It had been two days since his last meal, and even then it was meager at best. Saliva gathered at the edge of his mouth at the thought of eating, but he didn't look up. He didn't want to look at his captor, at least not of his own volition. That man would come to him on his own anyway, and force him to look at him. He would tear off Jack's mask despite his struggles, feeding him an organ skewered on a stick in order to stay out of the range of his sharp teeth. That was how it always went.

          However... the footsteps stopped.

          For a long time, nothing happened. Finally Jack slowly raised his head, peering through the black gauze filling his mask's eye holes to look at his captor. However, instead of the tall man with the beard, he saw the unfamiliar figure of a teenage girl, staring at him with [e/c] eyes that slowly grew wider.