The Marvelously Disastrous Misadventures of Jack Scarlett

Prologue

You are walking through the forest on a peaceful afternoon. You seem to have taken a wrong turn. You can't find your way back. What is going to happen now? Maybe someone will notice. But, you better hope they come right now, because I can sense you. You have come into the forest. MY forest. And now, you're lost. Face it, horribly lost. No one will be able to find you. But, you can hope. I mean, who am I to stop you? I can't control your thoughts.

However, you are still lost. In my domain. With little chance of rescue. Should I follow you around to make you paranoid. Or maybe, I can scare you a lot. Perhaps, I should let you run around until you collapse with exhaustion, eventually realizing that, you are trapped here all alone. No one is coming to save you, because they don't know where you are. And if, by some miracle, you are found, all that will remain is a bloodless corpse, with little of your flesh and organs still remaining. Because you look tasty.

I decide to take you out of the mystery, and expose myself to you. I walk in front of your path,forcing you to stop. The first thing you notice is that my skin is a very startling bright white. You look for other features, squinting through my paleness. You notice my hair, the same shade as blood, just like my eyes. Because those are the next things you notice. I might have been a normal person if you mostly paid attention to my clothes. I was just wearing a black leather jacket with a thin gray hoodie sweater, slightly unzipped and displaying a black tee. The tee appears to be just a regular shirt, designed with the Spider-Man logo. And then, I'm just wearing black jeans and sneakers. Nothing, besides my hair and eyes, to make me stand out too much.

You're probably scared, real scared. I don't really know because it's cold out here and I can see you shiver, but it might be because of fear as well. Whatever the cause, I don't care even. I have found new prey and I am going to have some fun. But right then, a thought strikes me. I haven't really told anyone my story, and it would be nice to tell someone. Maybe you'll even know how to write and write it down. I probably will still want to kill you after words, but it is still nice to get this off my chest and tell someone that is alive. Perhaps it will alleviate my burden. Who knows?

I walk up to a trees right in front of you and you take a step back. I say, kindly, nicely, "You know that there isn't really any danger." Then I grin widely, showing all of my perfect pearly whites and making sure you see my longer-than-normal canines, and wink at you. "At least for now," I add, chuckling softly to myself.

I see you backing up even more and I appear behind you, startling the living hell out of you. It wasn't quite a teleport, just some really, really fast running.

"Where are you planning on going? I happen to know every square inch of these woods, and I am not about to let you escape. I have lots of plans for you, but don't worry, I won't hurt you, unless you resist that is. Now then, come along." I say all this while pushing you gently towards a hidden cave. It slowly appears into your line of sight as I nudge you.

As we enter, it becomes evident that this is my home. Signs of my inhabitance are literally everywhere in this old cave. There is a cot in the back, a sort of dresser thing next to it made of roots fashioned together, and some clothes spilling out of the drawers. Closer to the entrance there is a gap in the wall holding a few pots and plates and bowls as well as silverware, and a fire pit slightly out in the open. In between the fire pit and my bed, there is an opening in the wall leading off to a small restroom. It's not amazingly made, but it's pretty great if I do say so myself.

Next to the fireplace, there are a few chairs. I sit you down in one while I start a fire. After the fire is all set and going, and I have a pot of water with a rabbit boiling into stew, you finally ask, "W-what are you planning on doing to me?" I look at you and say, "I'm going to tell you a story."

You wait for a while until I give you a bowl of stew and I sit down as well before wondering out loud, "What story?" I look at you yet again and grin at you a second time.

"My Story."