Chains: Eyeless Jack X Reader

Chapter 36

  {Jack's POV}

            Alcohol hung heavy in the air as Jack sat at the kitchen table, chugging a bottle of vodka straight from the bottle. While human food was bad for him, for some reason he was able to stomach alcohol. More than that, he was able to stomach near endless amounts without showing effects. It took a lot of alcohol for him to start feeling drunk. It wasn't often he'd break out the bottles, but right now he needed it.

            [Name] was totally shutting him out. Two days had passed since the fateful incident, and since then she'd refused to talk to him. Whenever he went inside, she'd turn away and just repeat her requests to leave. Whenever she DID look at him, her expression was empty, hollow, full of hurt and anxiety and anger and so many awful emotions, but the worst part were her eyes. They burnt with hatred, small [e/c] flames full of smoldering rage and fear.

            It hurt.

            It fucking hurt.

            He uncorked another bottle of alcohol and poured its contents into a metal tub on the table, watching the amber liquid flow like a waterfall. He didn't even know what it was, just that he had a lot of bottles of it. He uncorked them one after another, emptying them into the tub and watching as the amber liquid slowly filled the tub. Eventually he stopped and went to the fridge, grabbing jars containing refrigerated livers and dunking them in the tub.

            Livers were the organ most affected by alcohol. As such, Jack always found it beautifully ironic to soak them in alcohol before eating them. However, today he wasn't trying to be poetic. Honestly, he just wanted to get drunk. He wanted to forget about that cold look in [Name]'s eyes, glinting in the dim light of the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

            He regretted leaving her in that room. That room was his operating room, he'd occasionally bring victims there to dissect. Increase his knowledge of human anatomy, and get an even bigger meal out of it. It was the only place he could think of taking her, the only place with the right supplies, he'd just been so panicked...

            He shouldn't have left her there, though. He should have taken her back to her own bedroom, left her in her own bed. Instead, after the operation he left her unconscious on the table so he could go fetch his mask. Of course the sedatives would wear off while he was gone, and of course she wouldn't listen to him then.

            Violently tearing into the liver with his teeth, he scowled, mentally cursing himself. He could feel the alcohol finally starting to take hold, making his thoughts more slurred and groggy. Finally. Right now, he needed that blurriness, that lack of clarity, to just be drunk. He never thought a time would come when he'd need that, but at long last, it had arrived. All because of [Name].

            As he drank, an interesting fact about black-outs surfaced in his mind, a distant memory from his time at medical school. When a drunk person "blacked out", it wasn't because they couldn't remember. The brain simply stopped recording information. It was physically impossible to remember anything from a black-out, because there was literally nothing to remember. An interesting fact.