Why...? ( Eyeless Jack X Male!Reader

FUCK ME! (literally) part 4

A/N: Oh boy here we go, TW for this specific chapter lots of gorey stuff, I'll probably end this next chapter with some gore fluff?

I dont rly wanna do guro TBH

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You stared up at the bright lights above you for a brief moment, 'Shit, shit shit.' you said to yourself while hoping whatever he was reaching for wasn't going to end your life.

He scowled, and from the corner of your eye you saw a shiny rod, and something small. What the fuck was he doing? Or better to ask, what is he going to do.

Slowly pushing himself up further on your body, he continue to straddle you, but now rested on your lower chest area, by your diaphragm. To your surprise, he wasn't heavy, but yet he can some how physically out match you.

You attempted to turn your head towards what he was doing, but he snapped your head back to look right at him. You hoped to meet eyes, but yet, you the eye contact you hoped to make was filled by the two black holes. You wondered if there was something behind it, like the blackness was just a fabric, god how you just wanted to stick your fingers into the holes, but that might get you killed, so no.

He placed the small object that was just out of vision, and placed onto the palm of your hands, it felt like a needle and he slowly began to push it in. With a knee jerk reaction, you launched your body forward and he reacted quickly. Pushing you down by your throat, he leaned in close to your face. He smelt vile, disgusting, like a decaying animal. A finger met with the area his lips would be. A soft 'shh' came from behind his mask.

God you just wanted to rip that mask off his pathetic face and hit him. Your mind went over what you wanted to do him if you got the chance, but that train of thought was diverted when the needle like object the he previously stuck your palm was forced into your hand. You screamed loudly when he covered your mouth with the black glove that covered seemingly pale and cold flesh, it tasted like pennies and rotten eggs honestly. He continued to struck the object into your hand over and over until he felt that it was lodged far enough that it stuck into the wooden floor beneath you. Tear flooded your eyes and dripped down your cheeks, he pulled back with a metal pipe covered in your blood. He stared at you with his head tilted to his right, gently, the glove he used to cover your mouth wiped off the tears that you were sobbing out.

Did he really feel anything? You bet your ass he didn't.

Suddenly he stood up, and towered over you. He stared at your free hand, and he turned around quickly and headed back to the room you awoke in. You tried to turn over onto your said to attempted to pull out the nail, but suddenly the wound that he reopened spilled out onto the floor beneath you. You whimpered, as you turned onto your back. You felt like your organs are going to slip out from the wound, you place your hand onto it and groaned. It burned, badly, if you didn't do something about it soon, an infection would set in. But, what's the point in worrying when you're going to die? You placed the hand in front of your face, staring at the blood that was now dripping from the palm to your wrist and curved around to the front of your arm. You felt horrible, your crotch ached from the pain, and it made you want to die.

Why was he keeping you alive? What sick fuck would torture his victims like this, why can't he just eat you already.

You tried to think back to the creepypastas with him, but your mind was too focused on the growing sensations in your lower abdomen and crotch area, maybe you just had to piss, you didn't know at this point. Of course, you could tell the difference between getting a hard on and having to pee, but this was a confusing feeling.

You placed your hand on your crotch and felt the fact you were half hard, you removed your hand and stared up at the ceiling. God, what the fuck was wrong with you? It's probably just the adrenaline, probably...

He came back with the tray he held when you first ran from to room pushing him aside. You glanced up at the underside of the tray as he kneeled down beside you on the side he had cut open, and moved you over enough to expose the beginning of an infection. Your skin began to turn into a unsettling grey pink color. You heard the clinking of the tools on the tray beside him, you felt the cool metal touch your pinned hand. You hissed between your teeth as he began to push the flaps of the wound together. Slowly, he stuck in a needle into the two parts and pulled a thread through it. You yelled, and your breathing returned back to its heavy pace. He would stop at intervals of a few seconds, and continue. Each time, the pain became even worse, eventually you passed out.