eyeless jack x reader

chapter one

*in your pov*

I'm walking to the subway station from work. Winter is right around the corner, and already dark out. The walk from my work to the station was roughly a mile, and none of my co-workers live near me. It's a lonely walk home. Not too lonely, there's always a few others who take the subway in my direction, and there are always homeless people lingering in the subway.

Recently, I've felt a pair of eyes glued to the back of my head. This feeling has been lingering for the last couple of weeks. I can't shake this feeling off.

I quicken my pace as that feeling intensifies. I look around me, only to discover I'm alone on my way to the subway. I dig my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, coming into grasp with a key ring, holding together my house keys and my pepper spray.

I reach the entrance to the subway, slightly afraid to descend down the stone staircase. The subway is strangely dim, the lights that are on are flickering.

My heart races as I look around the subway, I don't see any silhouettes of other subway riders. I make my way to the booth to pay for my ticket. My heels click against the concrete, and it's one of the only things I hear.

Approaching the booth I hear someone's neck pop. I spin around, frightened. I rummage around in my purse for my phone, to turn on my flashlight. On the tracks, I see a figure hunched over, greedily eating something chewy like it's his last meal.

"Sir, the train should be here at any moment, it's unsafe for you to be on the tracks." My voice quivering and drowning out as I see the figure stand up.

My phones light illuminates where the man is standing, as his hands fall back to his sides, they seem to be drenched in a red liquid. The light aims downward to the pile next to him. It's a homeless man that panhandled me daily. My phone drops out of my hands as I fall to my knees.

I swallow the bile rising up my throat and try to stifle the scream following behind. I can't tell it its footprints that I hear, or my heartbeat ringing in my ears. I feel a hand grasp my hair. In a swift moment, I am lifted off the ground.

The killer in front of me has a death grip on my hair, and I try not to yelp in pain. I wince instead. The flickering lights don't give me an adequate way to examine what is in front of me. He has a dark mask, and there is something leaking out of the eye sockets. I believe it's the homeless man's blood. With his free hand, he reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and grabs something. I didn't quite catch exactly what he grabbed, and frankly, I am too terrified to look. He holds it out to my throat, and I feel more bile rising. I smell blood.

In the strobing light, he looks at me. Tilting his head to the side, he yanks me closer to him. I hear him smell me. I flinch, doing so causes whatever he held to my throat to cut me slightly.

The man grunts, he puts his weapon away and with his now free hand, he lifts up his mask and licks the wound he inflicted upon me.

I squeal and try pushing him away from me. He grips my hair tighter, I know I'll have a bald spot if I get home. I accidentally punch the man in the face, he growls at me.

"Poor thing you're scared to death." His voice is raspy. He cups my cheek with his free hand, stroking it with his thumb.

He starts off another sentence, but as he does the subway horn goes off. He lets go of my hair, and starts walking away.

"Be prepared." As he says that the subway speeds by. He disappears, and the lights come on. The dead body on the tracks squelches and flies everywhere.

My knees once again drop to the floor, I reach for my phone and dial 911. I ask them to escort me home.

The ride home with the police officer was silent. She didn't turn on the radio and she didn't talk to me either, which I'm thankful for. We reach my small apartment complex, she walks me to my door.

"Here, I know you're shaken up. Take my card, incase that freak comes back." She says to me. I nod my head and try to put on a smile, I feel if I open my mouth bile will start spilling out. I enter my apartment, and lock the door behind me.

I make my way into my bathroom and start peeling off my clothes. I don't know if the blood will stain my clothes, for right now I pile them into a corner in my bathroom. I turn the faucet to the hottest temp I can handle, and step in. I lather my hair in shampoo, starting off with the roots making my way down to the ends of my hair. Looking down when rinsing, the water is tinted with red. I repeat with the conditioner, and then rub body wash along my body.

I exit the shower, feeling the cold air engulf my body. I change into pajamas, and slip underneath my covers. My eyes refuse to stay open.