Chapter 2

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{Jack's POV}

            He didn't give her a chance to ask questions. As soon as his hand was freed, he struck. Even though his muscles were sore and numb from disuse, Jack still had the natural reflexes of a killer. He quickly pinned her to the ground, taking care not to let his full weight rest on her body as he strangled her with his one free hand. He was a bit worried she might fight back since his other hand was still stuck in the mitt and he couldn't pin her wrists, but to his relief she made no movement, just stared at him in shock.



            Soon enough her eyelids fluttered shut and her body went limp, at which point he quickly released his grip. A harsh bruise in the shape of his hand was left behind on her neck, the skin turning blue and green around the edges. However, she was still alive. Though he hungered greatly, this girl was still his savior, and sparing her life was the least he could do to show his gratitude. He'd even gone out of his way not to sit on her body so as to avoid making the bleeding from the cut worse. From the looks of things, most of that blood wasn't hers, and the injury didn't seem too deep, so she probably hadn't lost enough to die.



            Grabbing the discarded key from the ground, he found his arm had returned to that limp, sleepy state, making his movements wobbly and shaky. It took a few tries to finally insert the key correctly, and a few more to remove the padlock. He didn't even bother trying to open the mitt, shaking his hand so that it flew across the room with a loud clank and clatter. Rising as he shook his hands to try to bring back circulation, he staggered towards the stairs, his legs feeling like jelly. Now that he was finally free again, his priority was food, and something smelled wonderful up there...


            Jack had to crawl to ascend the stairs, a long and arduous process but what he found made the effort more than worth it. His captor's bloody corpse was sprawled on the ground, his face clearly indicating his lack of life. At first he was caught a bit off-guard and froze, thinking the man was still alive for a moment, but realizing the man was dead he broke into a giant smile. So badly had he wanted to be the one to kill him, but just seeing his body was satisfying-for more reasons than one. Crawling over, he grabbed the knife on the floor next to the man's hand and raised it shakily. It wasn't his scalpel, but it would do.



            Quickly he swung the knife down, blood spurting out of the resulting wound, and Jack dragged the blade across his back to create a jagged wound. Dropping the knife, he plunged his hands into the man's back and ripped out a kidney, his mouth watering violently as he nearly tore off his mask so he could stuff the organ into his mouth. It had been so long since he'd last eaten a fresh kidney, and the fact that it belonged to this wretched man made it taste even more wonderful. After finishing it he pulled out more organs, devouring them ravenously. With each bite he felt his strength returning bit by bit, until eventually he had finished and was able to stand up without shaking. He still wasn't at full strength, but he was much better than before.



            Wiping blood off his mouth, Jack glared at the man's corpse and spat it. How ironic that the man who had starved him for so long would provide his first proper meal in weeks. With his hunger satisfied, he took the opportunity to look around the remainder of the house which had served as his prison long. It wasn't a very large house, one floor with a rather spacious and open floor plan. As he walked through it, he paused upon noticing a series of framed photographs hanging on the walls. Each one showed that man's face flashing the camera a cheerful smile, making Jack's own face distort with anger. 



            A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat, and he angrily swiped at the them with his claws and knocking them down one at a time. However, as he moved to knock another one down his body suddenly tensed, claws mere centimeters away from the frame. Slowly he lowered his hand and leaned closer for a better look. This particular photo seemed to be a couple years old based on his captor's appearance, but what caught Jack's attention was the young girl sitting on his shoulder and smiling at the camera.



            Jack tilted his head as he examined it. That [h/c] hair and those [e/c] eyes... He hadn't gotten a very good look earlier and in this photo she looked pretty young, but he was relatively certain that it was the same girl from the basement. At this point he began studying the other photos more carefully, and sure enough the same girl appeared more and more. Her age fluctuated-obviously these weren't hung in chronological order-but the resemblance only grew until finally he found what seemed to be the most recent one. Any doubts that remained were cast away. She was even wearing the same shirt, pre-tearing/bloodying.



            Walking through the house a little more, Jack soon arrived at a white wooden door with a small name plate hanging on it. Curling [f/c] lettering spelled out the name "[NAME]". Entering, he found himself standing inside what was clearly a girl's room-specifically, the girl from the basement, whose name was apparently [name]. Apparently, his savior was that man's daughter, or... something. Jack recalled the injury on the girl's side, and his captor's corpse. Drops of blood trailed through the house leading from the front door to the man's body, but he could tell that the girl had been attacked near the basement. Most likely his captor had left to go hunting for food for him, only to get injured and later attack his "daughter" for food.



            Poor little girl, he thought with a smirk as he returned to the basement, descending the steps silently. Guess your beloved 'daddy' cared more about monsters than you. He found the girl in the same spot he'd left her, her body completely still save for her chest slowly rising and falling. Blood still continued to seep out of her side, creating a small puddle around her side. It smelled delicious, but he would resist it.



            Jack quickly grabbed a blanket lying on the couch and tore it in half, carefully lifting her torso and wrapping one of the strips around her to stop the bleeding for the moment. Carefully he lifted her limp form into his arms, taking care to support her neck as he carried her up the stairs.


            He wouldn't be going home empty-handed.




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