Chains: Eyeless Jack X Reader

Chapter 18

  {Reader's POV}

            Photo after photo of Jack filled the computer screen, the scroll-bar appearing tiny due to the sheer number of them as I slowly scrolled through the file. Some featured Jack wearing his mask while others had it removed, showing his eyeless sockets and razor-sharp teeth. On impulse I changed the settings so the photos were arranged by date, and the thumbnails instantly rearranged so the oldest were at the top. Arranged chronologically, I could slowly start to see a story unfold.

            At first, Jack was defiant. The very first photo showed him unconscious in the back of the pickup truck, duct tape covering his mouth and binding his wrists and legs, his mask sitting next to his head. Once he woke in the basement he scowled at the camera, the photos capturing him pulling at the chains restraining him to the wall. Many of the earlier photos were like that, just Jack trying to break free. None of them showed him wearing his mask, allowing a clear view of his expression, filled with rage and anger.

            One photo in particular caught my attention. His head was tilted back, his hollow eyes squeezed shut and his mouth gaping open in a silent scream. As I stared at it I imagined his scream from last night, and then his panicked yells in the clearing not even two hours ago. I could hear them now, coming from his mouth in the photo and ringing through the air. How could I have not heard him?

            Time stamps in the bottom corner of each photo revealed that these were all taken in a single week. During the second week he stopped visibly struggling and scowling, instead staring at the camera and Buddy warily. It was at this point Buddy started experimenting, setting the camera on a tripod to photograph himself forcefully feeding Jack. He'd tie food to a stick and stand at a safe distance off-screen as he forced Jack to eat it. A series of photos showed Jack refusing but being forced to open his mouth and eat it anyway, and then vomiting the results.

            It wasn't until later in the week he was finally fed a kidney, and Buddy clearly used a rapid fire setting on the camera to capture a stream of photos of Jack ravenously devouring it, his teeth shredding the organ as he ripped off large chunks. A shudder ran down my spine as I stared at the photos and I felt bile rise in my throat. Jumping from my seat I raced to the bathroom and knelt over the toilet, the cuts and bruises on my neck throbbing as I vomited my lunch into the bowl. This was the first time I'd seen Jack eat, even if it was just photos of it, so of course I was filled with disgust and horror, but it was more than that. A bigger question hung in my mind, one I couldn't shake:

            Where did the kidney come from?

            Buddy couldn't exactly go to a local grocery store to buy a human kidney, and based on how weak Jack's arms were when I freed him I doubted he was released to go hunting. Only Buddy could have gotten the kidney, and the question was where... and who it belonged to. I knew. I just knew that Buddy killed someone to get it, to feed Jack. As early as April, I'd been living with a murderer without even a single clue to his true nature and what he really did when he went to town. My stomach lurched even more as I thought about it, and this time I puked stomach acid.

            Eventually I stopped and leaned back, my breathing ragged and shuddery. Wiping my mouth, I flushed the toilet and washed my hands, not looking as the contents of my stomach swirled down the bowl. I headed to the main part of the cabin to get something to drink to wash away the taste, but before that I paused by the laptop and quickly closed the window and logged out. No more. I couldn't look at the photos anymore.