It was only a joke. Jack didn't mean to upset the boy. Just a little prank. Just to make himself known. Had Jack possibly suspected that the boy would do that? No, no one could have begun to think that. But the thought still haunted him that deep down, he wanted it to happen. He found it ... fascinating. And interesting perspective towards life and death. Of course, many people said that watching someone do that was psychotic ... who would? But Jack, of course. Jack, the one who ruled all. Jack, the one who killed all. Jack, the one who watched all die, all who die at their own hands at the hands of Jack.
Jack heard a blade against human skin. He had been hearing things like this ever since it happened. The thing that haunted him so badly, he had recently become devoted to it. Devoted to that sound. All for a love of hearing it. At least, part of him.
Jack had a fairly normal day that day. He did all the work he had, that needed to be done. As far as he was aware, his food hadn't been poisoned. He was afraid of the darkness.
Terrified of his nightmares, Jack tried not to sleep that night, sure that he would be haunted again. He stayed up, instead, reading in lamplight. It had gone one o'clock in the morning when a deeply tired Jack heard it. This time the noise truly scared him, for he had heard it in his waking hours. He looked around his room, curiously. Nothing seemed to change. He settled down again, and this time heard a whisper, slow, inaudible. He turned slowly around and saw blood on the wall behind him. This time, the message was clear: 'HELLO, JACK'
Jack screamed a silent scream and spun around again, to see another message daubed o the opposite wall: 'WHAT'S WRONG?'
Jack began to shiver violently. He ducked under his covers to find a notebook page, bearing a single word, again in blood: 'FEELING...'
Jack was beginning to feel dizzy. He lifted the covers and saw that his walls were covered with nothing but words in blood, all the same '...GUILTY?'
This time Jack let out a real scream and he spun around frantically. He saw the child. The same child who had commited suicide after being the subject of Jack's prank. He bore into Jack's eyes with a piercing stare, which seemed to be projected by the dark shadows around his eyes. He spoke in a hoarse, harsh whisper, "You have taste for suicide. One side hates. Other side loves. Let the other side love. Free it's taste. Let them die. Let them ALL die." The stare was now getting to Jack's head. Strange tunes were being produced from nowhere, all around the room. Strange patterns formed and planted themself inside his brain. Jack couldn't take it any longer..........
He woke, feeling drowsy as though he had hit his head the night before. But, in truth, he had no recollection at all of what had happened that night.
He went through the day as normal, and slept easy at night....
Slash.
Slit.
Slice.
Watching the news the next morning told Jack of three murders in the previous night, all from the same blade. Strange, he thought.
He had another boring, normal day.
Jack noticed a peculiar message on his wall that night, written in blood:
'YOU WILL SUCCUMB TO IT EVENTUALLY.'
What it meant, Jack did not know...
Slit
Slice
Slash
Slash
Slice
Slit
Slice
Slash
Slit.....
Jack couldn't handle it any more. Before tying the rope, he heard a voice whisper, 'Told you so.'
That was it.
Jack made no noise as he hung there.
They had told him so.
He succumbed to it eventually.
