What Lovely Kidneys You Have (An Eyeless Jack P.O.V & Romance)

4 - I Suppose You Can Live for Another Day

Yes, Jeff the Killer is in this story at some points. I’m sorry people, but I refuse to separate Jeff and Jack because they are soul mates. Okay, not really, but I love how different they are from each other which is why it’s fun to write them in each other’s stories. But uh, if you’ve read my other JTK stories, then yes, it is the same Jeff from those ones. So yes, I will reference Sarah, but this takes place during that 6 year period of them not seeing each other after the first book. If you haven’t read that story yet, go do it.

Anyways yes, so, Jeff and Jack are really the only creepypastas I’ll allow to be in a story together. Deal with it my darlings! MUAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!

***

“W-what are you?” She quivered, her eyes fiercely shaking as she looked on at me with terror, forcing her back to the wall.

“That’s a rhetorical question,” I whispered, keeping my voice low to mask the underlying desire to end her, and her unattractively caring nature; she just had to make things complicated tonight, when they really didn’t need to be.

She thought for a moment, trying to piece together an answer, although there was none, “I thought you were some sort of freak working on the black market and trying to sell human organs or something but, you’re…” her sentence ended there as she trailed off into utter denial, although there was no possible way to deny what I truly was.

“I can assure you, I am not that.”

“I know,” she mustered up the confidence to look me in the mask, with spite on her tongue, “You’re a cannibal.”

Hearing the word fluttered many forms of conflict inside of me for multiple reasons. One reason for my conflict is that cannibals eat their own species. In my case, it refers to eating humans, but I cannot be a cannibal in this sense due to the fact that I do not identify as being one; you cannot categorize a monster, in any form of the word. Another spark of revolt against it was that the word had a negative connotation, one that I do not agree with either; what I’m doing is not wrong…it’s only practical.

“I apologize for your unnecessary reaction to this new found information, but you must understand that it is not your place, nor will it ever be, for you to interrupt my work and I. Before you made the idiotic decision to attack my efforts, he was perfectly fine. But now, as you can see,” I gestured to the bleeding, mutilated man on the floor, “He has suffered. If causing him the most pain possible was your intentions, well, you’ve succeeded.”

Her head began to motion from one side to the other as her eyes searched for some form of evidence to deny my claim, but she knew I was correct; if she had just stayed put, this could’ve gone smoother.

“I’m still not the monster here,” she announced, tensing her jaw, her eyes seething with an emotion that I could not figure.

“If you’re implying that the monster here is me, then there’s a possibility that you’re correct,” I yanked the scalpel from her hands, making her gasp as a fearful reaction to my aggressive move, “And if you want to get out alive, then I suggest you start running.”