While many Creepypasta villains go straight for the kill, Eyeless Jack takes his sweet time. Having no mouth or nose to speak of and eye sockets blacker than the void, Eyeless Jack makes up for his lack of features by stealing others'. Arriving through your window in the depths of the night, black slime oozing from what orifices he has, Eyeless Jack will cut you open, but thankfully if undisturbed, he'll only take one thing. Should his prey come to their senses, he becomes violent and gore-focused, mutilating victims in his way.
The Creepypasta tales featured here place Eyeles Jack in his usual role as a living night terror, for the most part. But given Jack's emerging status as a Creepypasta celeb on par with Slenderman and Jeff the Killer, some of these tales explore a more sympathetic side to a character whose fandom grows each day on the Internet. Check out some of these Eyeless Jack creepypastas, but be careful not to fall asleep while reading. You may wake up missing a kidney.
My name is Mitch. I didn't used to believe in the supernatural, the paranormal, or whatever it's called now. I still don't want to believe creatures like that exist, but after what happened to me, I'd be a fool not to believe in them. It makes me uneasy just thinking about it.
Do you really want to know? Alright, but I've got to warn you: it's pretty graphic.
What I am about to tell you is as much of what happened as I can remember. If there are gaps in my story, that's because either I don't remember what happened during that time or it's not important to my story, so don't ask about it. Alright, so due to some circumstances I won't get into here, the bank foreclosed on my house, so I was out a place to live. Being the epic older brother he was, my brother Edwin invited me to move in with him. Gratefully, I took him up on that offer. Edwin and I hadn't seen each other in about 10 years or so, so we were both excited for me to get settled in and start catching up. With his help, it only took about a week to finish unpacking my things and get everything in my room exactly the way I wanted it.
Since I'm a photographer, naturally my camera is one of the most used objects I own, so I just put it on my bedside table to avoid having to dig it out from wherever else I could have put it. On the last day of unpacking and arranging my stuff, Edwin and I had just put the finishing touches on my room with enough time to have a couple of drinks in front of the TV before bed. I had told him that we would have to stock up on rum and cola if I was going to be living there. He just laughed and turned back to whatever action movie happened to be playing. After the movie was over, we both went to bed. I collapsed into my bed, eager to get to sleep in my shiny new room.
It didn't feel like I had even fallen asleep before I was startled awake by something rustling in the bushes outside my window. I turned over to check the time on my phone. It was one in the morning. "Stupid raccoons," I mumbled groggily as I turned my back to the window and promptly fell back to sleep. "Did you hear those raccoons last night?" I asked Edwin at breakfast the next morning. "Huh?" he replied, over the sound of bacon and eggs on the stove. Then my question registered in his mind, "Oh. No, I didn't hear anything. I was completely passed out, man." "Figures," I snorted, "You sleep like the dead." He chuckled as he grabbed a couple of plates from the cabinet for us, "Chow's ready."
That night, I was startled out of my slumber again, but this time, it sounded like my window sliding open, accompanied by a loud *thump!* sound. I bolted upright in my bed, fully expecting to come face-to-face with some psycho killer or something, but oddly, there was nothing. Not a single thing was out of place in my room. Sighing with relief and thinking that I was just startled awake by noises in my dreams (since it wouldn't be the first time that happened) I turned my back to the window again and fell back to sleep. The next morning at breakfast, Edwin's coffee mug and jaw dropped when I stumbled sleepily into the kitchen. He pushed me back to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. I had a huge gash in my left cheek.
With how deep the cut was, I was surprised I couldn't see teeth through it. Of course, I went to the emergency room. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, a reasonably attractive nurse came in to check my vitals. After checking my pulse and the other usual procedures, she left, saying absently that Dr. Jacobson would be with me shortly. Another eternity later, and Dr. Jacobson finally stepped into my room. He cleaned, stitched up, and bandaged my cheek and asked if that was the only pain I felt. "You know, Doc, my side actually hurts a lot, too, but I can't seem to twist far enough to see why without it hurting more," I confessed. "Well, first off: if it hurts, don't do it," Dr. Jacobson joked, "and secondly, lets have a look, shall we?" I lifted the side of my shirt up as far as I could without too much pain and heard the doctor curse under his breath in apparent shock.
"What is it?" I demanded. "Son, you may want to have a look at this," came the shakey reply as Dr. Jacobson pulled two small hand mirrors out of a drawer. He held one behind me as I angled the other so that I could see the first mirror. And what it reflected. In the mirrors I saw a crude, jagged-looking incision where I assumed my left kidney should be. The black stitches that held the rough edges of skin together were similarly crude and jagged, done with a thick string, rather than actual thread. The whole thing looked venomous, with angry shades of red and putrid yellows.
"I'll have to run some scans to make sure, but I'm fairly certain that your kidney was taken," stated Dr. Jacobson as he gently prodded the wound and the same spot on my other side, drawing small groans of pain from me. "Do what you have to do, Doc," I complied. A couple of days later, I was released to go home, armed with prescriptions for antibiotics and some pretty awesome pain killers. I remembered the pain killers from when I had my wisdom teeth taken out and how they made me really groggy, so I waited until after dinner to take one. That night, however, sleep was just not in my fortune. Around midnight, I awoke from my medically induced sleep to a truly terrifying sight.
Standing on the side of my bed and leaning over me at an impossible angle was this creature in a black hoodie. I say it was a creature because in the light of my bedside lamp that I had forgotten to turn off, I could see every detail of its masked face under the hood. Its mask was dark blue with no mouth or nose and gaping black holes for eyes. Even under the mask, there was nothing of its eyes but dark, empty sockets and the thick, black liquid that dripped from them. My arm shot out for the camera on my bedside table, knocking the lamp off and out of the socket it was plugged into. I quickly snapped a picture just before the thing lunged for me, clawing at my chest and throat. I was able to land a good, solid punch to the side of its head and scramble out of my bed.
Even in my mad dash to get out of there, I still had the mind to keep hold of my camera and grab my wallet from my desk as I bolted out of my bedroom and, seconds later, out of the house into the night. That's when the panic really set in. After I had gotten out of the house, I didn't stop running. Somehow, I managed to end up on a paved trail through the woods near Edwin's house. Since I hadn't really had time to get my shoes on before running for my life, I stepped on a sharp rock, causing me to jump in pain mid-sprint, fall, and knock my head against the path's asphalt. Nighty night.
When I woke up, I was back in the hospital. A few minutes after I pressed the "call" button, Dr. Jacobson walked into my room. He had a very odd expression on his face, like he was about to do something that he's done countless times, but still hated to do. It turned out that something was delivering mixed news, because he said with a sigh, "I have good news and I have bad news." "Okay?" I inquired worriedly. "The good news is that you only have minor injuries and your parents are already on their way to pick you up," he continued, but hesitated. "And the bad news?" I pressed, "Your brother was mauled by some kind of animal. The police are looking for it now, but I doubt they'll find anything. The damage is unlike anything I've ever seen," Dr. Jacobson explained with a look of suppressed shock on his face, eyes wide with clearly apparent fear.
A few days after I got out of the hospital, the police told us it was all clear for me to go back to Edwin's house to get the rest of my things. There were small reddish-brown splatters of dried blood that the officials hadn't bothered to clean up all over the house. I couldn't stand to be there for very long, so I just grabbed a few things and started to walk out, thinking that I would ask my parents or someone to come get the rest later. But as I was rushing out of my room, something caught my eye on my desk. Without really looking at it, I stepped back into my room, swiped it off of the desk, stuffed it into my backpack, and almost ran out to my car. When I got back to my parents' house, I went up to my room to take an inventory of everything I was able to cram into my backpack.
The first thing I pulled out was the thing I grabbed off of my desk. Now, I actually took the time to look at it. After a few seconds of staring at the thing, horrified realization set in and I vomited onto the floor of my bedroom. I was looking at my stolen, and half-eaten, kidney with some kind of thick, black liquid smeared all over it.
Trapped In A Night Terror
A story by Spideygirl:
I come home from my day job and take the precaution of locking the door. I strip off my stupid barista outfit, and rush into the shower to wash off the never-ending smell of espresso and whipped cream, singing various Green Day songs as I wash myself. When I finish, I hop out, wrap myself into a towel, and walk into the hall, where I'm greeted with the scent of vanilla Airwick and Top Ramen. It was already 8 PM by the time I got home, and since I had to cover my friend, Krissy's day shift in the morning, I decided to go to bed early.
I fumble around in my dark and messy bedroom until finding some suitable sleep wear, an old campus tee and regular, unflirty, Spiderman undies. As I lay myself down in bed, I reach in the dark for my prescription sleep pills, and some water to wash it down.
Once the medication kicked in, I was out like a light. Now, everyone knows about those 'forewarned' side effects that come with almost everything in a prescription bottle. Goes to figure, that my sleep medication has a long list of vivid dreams, hallucinations, sleep walking, and in some cases, sleep paralysis. Even though I've had weird dreams while on this medication, they were usually very benign as far as being nightmares or not but... but this one was far different.
I wake up, stiff as a plank, eyes locked in the corner of my room, just above my door. My heart jumps as I hear the sound of metal scraping metal, a click, and then the eerie squeak of something in my apartment. Heavy, dark footsteps follow soon after, menacingly slow. Believe me, if I could convince my dream-self to get out of there, I would. But I was paralyzed on the spot, forced to see what was going to happen. My ears narrow in on someone making their way through my small apartment, the floor boards creaking. An array of eerie green and black colors dance on the ceiling as I lie there, frozen in my fake reality.
The door knob slowly turns, and a black figure with a blue mask makes it's way into my room with what looked like a scalpel and a jar in each of his black claw-like hands. I try closing my eyes tight, but quickly discover I can't. It seemed like a cruel, cruel joke was being played on me, as if I was a mere puppet without it's master. I watch in forced obedience as the cloaked man kneels down by me. He hums a twisted sort of lullaby, stroking my hair ever so softly, as he lifts up my shirt to just below my breasts.
I wanted to scream out. Hell, I wanted to wake up. "Someone, pinch me! Pour ice water one me! ANYTHING," the frantic voice in my head begged, even though in my dream I stayed silent. I was in a trance, too stunned to move, as the figure fooled around with something in my side. I didn't, nor could, dare to look down to see what that 'something' was. I lay there, begging the merciless God to grant me one favor. Let. Me. Wake. Up...
I jerk awake in a cold sweat as my alarm greets me with it's discording melody. My room was still pitch black, but the numbers on my clock read 6 AM. Of course, that was just a bad dream. For the first time in what seemed like ages, I let out, and take a in deep breath, pinching myself to make sure it was reality. I cautiously climb out of bed and quickly get dressed in the dark. I pull on my apron which was where I left it, and hurry out of the door before locking it behind me. Then I freeze in my tracks, doing a double take.
I had just walked out the door without even unlocking it first, and I know I locked it the night before. This would mean my door had somehow unlocked from the time I got home, to the time I got up, and it wasn't by me. Without hesitation, I lift up my shirt to uncover the skin on my stomach, and I almost faint on the spot. Right over the area of where my kidney would be located, was a small and bloody incision.
Eyeless Jack: A Full Story
Written by Redditor RandomzJake:
Seven-year-old Jack lay in his bed crying, his eyes blue and shining from his tears. He could hear yelling; his stepdad was drunk again. He did this all the time but it never sounded as bad as it did tonight. Jack looked at his teddy bear. It was a gift from his father before he died. Jack jumped as he heard his mom scream. His blood ran cold and he started to shake. He heard the big door downstairs slam as his stepdad went outside. His stepdad was in his car. Jack knew what he was looking for. His pistol. Jack’s grip on his teddy bear tightened.
He went to his parents' bedroom. He walked into the bathroom, it was pitch black. He could only hear the sound of liquid dripping. He turned on the light. It flicked and then turned on filling the room with a faint artificial glow. He saw the glass cracked on the mirrors. There was blood. Lots of blood. Jack’s feet made a “squish” as he stepped on the tile floor, leaving a trail of bloody footprints. “Jack…” his mom said. Jack walked in the closet. The carpet floor was soaked in blood. His mom lay against the wall. Her chest was cut open. Her organs spread around her. Her eyes, she couldn't see. One was black and bleeding, the other had a piece of glass in it that matched the spider web on the mirror. Jack ran over to her, staining his clothes with his mom’s blood as he hugged her. A gun went off. Two hearts stopped beating. Two bodies cold. Two bodies lifeless. Jack’s stepdad ran. He ran straight out of the big door downstairs and jumped into his car and drove away. “Mom, take my eyes.” “Thanks, I love you.”
Three years later his stepdad lay in a old bed at a cheap motel. He waited until he was asleep. He crept on top of the sleeping man. He slowly reached under his stepdad’s head and pulled out the pillow from under him. He removed the lightly stained pillow case and pressed it over stepdad’s mouth and nose. He didn’t want him screaming too loudly. He tied up his hands and feet. He woke his stepdad. “Remember me?” His stepdad’s eyes widened with fear and recognition. Jack’s stepfather noticed his dead stepson’s face. It hadn’t changed much except his eyes were gone. Two empty sockets. Jack ripped open his stepfather’s chest and took out his heart. Jack held the red dripping flesh over his stepfathers’s face and bit into it. As soon as he bit into it the heart, the liquid inside turned black and the last thing his stepdad saw was Jack’s two empty sockets. Two empty sockets. One dead body.
Two years later Jennifer Ann walked under the deserted bleachers. A boy was standing under, waiting for her. “Are you sure your boyfriend won’t find out?" “You need to stop worrying, babe.” Then they kissed. Jack pierced the boy’s skull with a knife and strangled the girl. Jack ripped open their now lifeless bodies and looked in at the bloody organs inside of them. He took what he needed. A small intestine from the girl and a large one from the boy. He went into the forest, deep inside the trees. He reached a spot where only a few specks of light from the sunrise peaked through the dark green layers of leaves. There lay a small wooden cabin. Jack went inside. “Mom, I got something for you.” Two Organs. Two dead bodies.
One year later “Please let me go,” cried a little girl. “Sorry, I can’t do that dearie. You are too perfect,” the man replied. “I want to see my parents,” she yelled. “Too bad!” he yelled angrily at her. The girl was taken, walking through the orchard in her backyard. She enjoyed seeing the cherries ripen. She had gotten home early from school that day. It was a minimum day. She immediately went to the orchard from cherries. She only got to eat one. The man had brought her here to this place. This disgusting place. She wasn't the first girl but she would be the last.
Jack got in easily. He tied up the man without trouble. The girl's scream broke Jack out of his murderous rage. She saw his face, his horribly scarred face. A bullet wound in his right cheek and two empty sockets. Jack cried. He untied the girl and watched her run away. Jack cried harder. He turned back to the restricted man. he crushed each bone, slowly and painfully. The man slipped in and out of consciousness. Awoken by Jack each time with ice cold water. Jack wanted him to feel everything. All the pain. All the suffering. Jack struck the final blow upon the man’s back and spinal cord. Then strangled the remaining life out of the man. He ripped him open. It was surprisingly easy with the man having broken bones. He took what he needed. Two organs. One dead body. One saved.
One year later a girl with a black eye stormed out of a house. Her boyfriend yelled out at her. “Go ahead and leave, you stupid bitch,” he yelled as she drove away, eyes filled with tears. He was the one who gave her the black eye. She wasn’t the only one he hit. They always came back. They thought he would change. He didn’t. He never would. Most of the girls moved on eventually. They couldn’t take the abuse, but many suffered through it as long as they could. Jack watched the man fall asleep. Jack loomed over him.
There was a knock on the door. “Edwin! Edwin! You awake?” Mitch yelled. Edwin got up and opened the door. “Mitch? What are you doing here?” Edwin asked. “I need a place to stay, my house was foreclosed,” Mitch said.
“The divorce?” “Yeah.” Neither were bothered by the arrangement. They hadn’t seen each other in over 10 years. Mitch was given the guest room for the night. Jack slipped them both sleeping pills, but his target was Edwin. He opened the window and creeped in like smoke. He walked to the figure in the bed. Like a predator going after his prey. He plunged his hand into the flesh pulling out a kidney. Then Jack had realized the mistake he had made. This wasn’t Edwin. This was Mitch. He sewed the wound. The sleep pills were unsafely strong. Jack finished and decided to get Edwin. He slipped, slicing Mitch’s cheek open. Jack had to leave. He needed to get out. He couldn’t do this tonight. He could tomorrow night.
The next night, the moon wasn’t there to give light. It was pitch black. Around midnight, Jack came in. The same way he did the night before. He had to get past Mitch’s bedroom before getting to Edwin. Jack couldn’t help but go into Mitch’s bedroom. He stood over Mitch, seeing his handy work from the previous night. He started crying. Black tears fell from the two empty sockets. How could he have done this. He couldn’t believe himself. His stepdad, Jennifer, the boy, and the man, granted they all deserved it. He couldn’t do this anymore. He was a monster. He wasn’t alive, but wasn’t dead. What the hell was he? Mitch suddenly awoke and Jack crying above him. Mitch immediately grabbed his camera and took a picture. Jack lunged at Mitch. He couldn’t let anyone see the picture. He couldn’t let anyone see his horrid appearance. Mitch kicked him off off and ran.
He ran and ran and ran. He made it to the edge of the forest and tripped on a rock. He fell, unconscious. He woke up the next morning in a hospital. He had survived, his brother didn't. He arrived at Edwin’s house later to collect his things. They hadn't taken Edwin’s body yet. Mitch saw him laying on the cold tile. His legs were crushed by a cabinet full of now broken dishes. Silver tape covered Edwin’s mouth on his pale, bloodless face. His chest was brutally ripped open. He was missing his lungs and kidneys. Mitch’s blood ran cold as he saw a small item laying next to his brother’s corpse. He picked up the item and looked at it. His stomach turned as he identified the item. It was his half-eaten kidney overflowing with a black substance. He vomited. The sight was sickening. He cleaned himself up in the bathroom. Getting into his car he felt something in his pocket. It was the photo. A picture of Jack Two Organs. One dead body. One picture.
One years later “Mary? Where is my nurse?” Greg shouted. “She quit,” Mary replied. “She quit?” Greg said. “And she’s pressing charges.” “What the hell for?” “Sexual harassment.” “Bitch,” Greg muttered under his breath. Greg slammed the door to his office. He turned on his cable TV and put a cheap porno into the VCR. He had to stay late and do paperwork. He hated doing paperwork.
At about one in the morning he fell asleep. Jack had an idea. The new hospital wing was under construction. Some of the rooms were finished but only the construction workers were allowed to got there. But they didn’t work on weekends. He stitched Greg’s mouth shut so he wouldn’t be able to scream. Greg was awake now but Jack had blindfolded him. He didn’t want Greg to see his face. Jack grabbed a scalpel and made small cuts throughout Greg’s body. He then drenched Greg in rubbing alcohol. Greg passed out from shock. Jack got out ammonia to wake him up. Jack wanted him to be awake for this. He shaved Greg’s head. He cut open his flesh until he could see the pearle white skull. He smashed it open, being careful not to damage the brain. He pulled until Greg stopped breathing. One Organ. One dead body.
Two years later May 26th, 12:48 AM
Hello. My name is Ryley. I… I have many, many, many mental and social disorders. I guess I take after my dad, Mitch, who is in a mental hospital. My mom hates me, she thinks I’m a mess. I’m homeschooled so I don’t have many friends. Just one, actually. She is two years younger than me. I’m 14 by the way, almost 15. Her name is Savannah, she is homeschooled too. She was kidnapped four years ago. She has severe anxiety and chronic panic attacks. My brother was also killed two years ago. I didn’t even really care when he died. He was a jerk and he hated his “lunatic” brother. He was a doctor so his “success” didn’t really make my situation any better. But I digress, the reason I started this journal is because I found Eyeless Jack.
I have been searching for him ever since my dad gave me a photo. A photo of the thing that killed my uncle. I spent a few years reading about him. I know what Jack is doing. He is finding organs to give to his mom, so they can “pass on” or whatever. I don’t really believe in God or whatever but they are going on to some place. I think I know where they are now. A cabin. I’ve been debating on going there. If I do, I’ll leave my journal here. I don’t want to lose it if anything were to happen. I don’t know why I want to find him so bad. It isn’t for revenge. My uncle and brother deserved what they got. I just need to find him. There is something inside me that just needs to find him.
May 26th, 8:48 AM
I’ve decided to go. I’ll write what I find when I come back. My mom is at work, so I don’t need to worry about her.
May 26th, 3:12 PM
I can’t believe it. No one was there. Only a bloody hoodie. Jack was there. That hoodie was his. I know it.
May 27th, 12:06 PM
I went back. I know I shouldn’t have, but I just had to. I need to see him. This isn’t over just yet.
May 28th, 12:50 AM
I’m going back tonight. I’m going to leave Jack a message. I need to communicate with him.
May 30th, 5:26 AM
He wrote back. Well kind of. He left a message. “Stay away” written in the dirt. He didn’t want me to find him, but I’m going to.
May 30th,5:30 AM
Damn, that’s cliche.
May 31st, 3:15 AM
He’s outside. I see him. He’s in the bloody hoodie. I stared at him. He’s looking at me.
May 31st, 6:46 AM
He’s gone now. I went up to the window. When he was here, I went up to the window and put my hand on the glass. It was ice cold. I looked up at his scarred face. He was crying, black tears. We stood there for awhile and I got back in bed and fell asleep with him watching me. Protecting me. I felt safe. I miss him now.
June 15th, 1:22 AM
The “chats” went on for awhile. We actually started talking. Or more honestly, I started talking. He never said anything. Just listened. He hid his face, every time I saw it he would cry. I feel bad for him. I hope he comes back tonight.
June 18th, 3:19 AM
He hasn’t come for a couple days now. Something’s wrong. I need to find him.
June 18th, 3:54 AM
I’m looking for him. I brought my journal. I want to record everything that happens.
June 18th, 4:13 AM
I’m at the cabin. Jack isn’t here. My uncle’s body is here. My brother’s body is here too. Along with four others.
Ryley decided to go home. Some animal leaped toward Ryley. Jack jumped in front of him. He killed the wolf, brutally. He walked over to Ryley, with his hoodie covered in warm blood.
June 18th, 4:25 AM
Then it hit me. Jack’s mother didn't need a heart to “pass on”. Jack had already gave her his. The teddy bear. Jack didn't have one. He needed one for himself.
Jack went over to Ryley. He put his hand on Ryley’s shoulder, staining the clothes with blood. He kissed him. He reached into Ryley’s chest and pulled out his heart. Ryley fell on the ground. Jack was crying.
June 18th, 4:30 AM
Jack kissed me. He then ripped out my heart. He didn’t do it out of anger. He loved me and I loved him. He needed a heart and he got one. Mine. Now we can be together. It didn’t hurt when he tore out my heart. I know he needed it. He loved me and I loved him.
When I went to the basement, I didn’t know what I was expecting to find, or even what I was looking for. As I descended the stairs I couldn’t help noticing that the lights were already on their dimmest setting, giving the room’s contents an eerie glow. Horror movie posters and weapons lined the walls, with action figures, replica masks, life-size standees of horror icons and other horror-oriented merchandise lining the floor and tables. Glancing around as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, my heart came to an abrupt stop.
Leaning against the far wall was a figure clad in black, barely visible in the darkness save for a navy blue mask and tufts of brown hair sticking out of a hood. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed its arms were suspended above its head and shackled to the wall with metal cuffs, and the hands stuffed into some weird mittens that looked like steel balls. For a moment I felt too numb to think. Please, please be a prop, I silently pleaded. Please don’t be real, please please don’t be a real person...
As if hearing my thoughts, the mask shifted and raised, the black eyes with dripping black paint seeming to meet mine.
My stomach sank upon seeing the movement, and I felt like I was about to throw up. No. No no no no no. Buddy was keeping a person down here. He had a person chained up in the basement. How long had he been here? I was eating dinner right above here while a person was locked in the basement, sleeping in my warm cozy bed while he was forced to sit here with his hands freezing inside steel fetish mittens. That mask... It looked like something out of a horror movie. Had Buddy forced him to wear it this entire time?
Somehow I managed to swallow back the bile and opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. No, I did know what to do. I staggered across the room, and knelt in front of him. Pain shot through my side again, but I gritted my teeth and resisted the need to cry out as I clutched the wound. “Are... are you okay?” I managed to ask, my speech halting and slow as I tried to keep the pain from showing in my tone. Right now, that was the last thing he needed. After a moment he gave a single nod, filling me with relief. “G-good... My name is Melissa... H-here, let me help you get this off...”
I reached for the mask to remove it, but he recoiled and shook his head violently, catching me off-guard. “You... Don’t you want it off?” There was a pause, and then he shook his head. I took that as a no. This puzzled me, but I wasn’t really in the mood or mindset to ask questions. There was still too much to process. My beloved uncle figure had just tried to kill me and now I found out he was a kidnapper. Everything felt like a horrible nightmare, but the pain in my side was a constant reminder that this was all too real.
When Jack saw the unfamiliar girl, he found himself catching his breath. Even in the dim lighting, he was able to clearly see her short blonde hair was messy, her eyes wide and almost glowing. Everything about her was disheveled and messy, but at that particular moment she seemed to glow like an angel. After a few moments of staring he realized the red splotches on her shirt and pants weren’t part of a design, but were blood. Seeing it made his mouth water even more, hunger quickly rearing its ugly head, but he fought back his desire to attack. He wasn’t exactly in a position to do anything anyway, and at the moment she was his only hope for freedom, the first ray of hope in weeks, maybe even months.
She approached and knelt before him, her face visibly distorting in pain. Up close he noticed there was a large tear in her shirt through which he could glimpse a large bleeding cut, which didn’t help his hunger pangs. Was all of that blood hers? He hoped not, she couldn’t pass out on him now or they’d both probably die. Obviously fighting off the pain, the girl asked about his well-being. Her voice was musical compared to that man’s raspy voice. That man... Where was he? Was he upstairs? He’d worry about that later. For now, Jack needed to focus on escaping. He didn’t dare speak, not wanting his inhuman nature to slip out. It had been a while since he last spoke, and his hunger didn’t make him very trusting of his ability to speak “normally”.
For that same reason, he recoiled when she tried to remove his mask. If she saw his face...! He needed her to free him first. The girl seemed a bit taken aback by it, but she accepted it without question and began inspecting the cuffs. “Do you know where he keeps the keys for these things?” she asked, her voice still slow and halting. Hmm... That cut in her side must really hurt. Reflexively he tried to move his hands to point, but obviously that wouldn’t work, so instead he nodded his head towards a desk behind her, hoping she’d get the message. She turned to look and asked, “Do you mean the desk? Like, one of the drawers?”
Relieved she’d figured it out he nodded, and she staggered to her feet and slowly made her way towards it. Sorting through the drawers for what seemed to be forever, she finally returned with two keys. If he had eyes they would have lit up at the sight of the small, metal objects. Freedom was finally in his sight (no pun intended).
Keys in hand, I reached for the padlock on the shackles and tried to open it. Panic overcame me momentarily when the key didn’t fit, trying to jab the lock desperately, until finally a simple realization hit me: this lock went with the other key. Dropping the first key, I picked up the second one and it slid in perfectly. Click. The first shackle opened and his arm fell to his side limply, soon followed by the other one. Clearly they’d been suspended for quite some time, he didn’t seem to have any strength.
“Almost done,” I told him, giving him a shaky smile. The pain in my side seemed to be getting worse, but I needed to stay strong, or at least look like it. I couldn’t show any weakness, he had enough to worry about as was. I lifted one of his hands by the wrist, my hand shaking the entire time, and used the first key to undo the padlock. Click. The ball had a hinge at the top, apparently meant to be open in a way that made it split it in half, and I steadied my hands long enough to do just that. Lifting it off of his hand, suddenly my body went tense and the mitten fell from my hand, landing on the ground with a clatter.
His hand was gray, a color unnatural for humans. His fingernails, meanwhile, weren’t just nails—they were more like claws, sharp enough to shred something. I stared at them with wide eyes, unsure what to make of it.
“What...?” I sputtered, but then suddenly he lunged at me, knocking me onto my back and pinning me to the ground. His one free hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing tight. I was so shocked I didn’t even try to fight back, I just stared up at that navy blue mask. What the...? At that moment, everything seemed to crash around me. All of the insanity of the night came to a head in my mind, and I just... I just couldn’t take it anymore. Eyes fluttering, my vision blurred, I blacked out.
Jeff The Killer Versus Eyeless Jack
Written by Alex Newth:
I was in a motel. Looking at the mirror ceiling, just staring at myself. Motionless, expressionless, just looking at the evil man in the mirror. My evil, evil smile. It was the same motel where I encountered Jane for the first time. The blood battered sweatshirt, that started as white, was now covered in red. I liked it better that way. When it was (semi) white, all I could think of was my parents, and how stupid I was to do what I did. I missed my family, my brother especially. I eventually drank myself to sleep.
I woke up and stepped on my broken whiskey bottle. I didn’t mind it, I mean alcohol cleans cuts, right? I left the motel in the morning, and I noticed that my neighbor's window was broken. There was a black ooze going in through the window. I bent down and smelled it. I almost puked. I went inside to investigate, and I noticed some stitching in the kidney area of a sleeping woman. I was very quiet trying not to wake her, I thought maybe she had just had surgery, and someone’s car was leaking motor oil, and a couple kids broke the window. (It was after all a pretty trashy town.) I went to the town bar. Hood up, corner booth, the usual. The bar tender came over.
“This has been your eighth visit since your stay. You sure you want to-”
“Pour the drink and go away,” I interrupted. He poured it, glared at me, and walked away. After that I went downtown to enjoy the scenery. For a mass murderer, I was a pretty regular guy. (With a couple psychological problems.) I didn’t buy much, I just enjoyed the neon, the stores, just the city in general. I stumbled my way back to the motel.
That night, a sudden scream woke me from my sleep. I went over to investigate, blade in hand. I peered through the window, and an eyeless man looked over at me, screaming. He ran for me and when I attempted to cut him, he disappeared into thin air. I just thought I was hallucinating. The next day I didn’t go to the bar, I just stayed home to make sure it wasn’t the alcohol tricking me.
That night I heard my window break, and a thump. As if a raccoon had fallen onto a couch. I grabbed my knife, and didn’t sleep well. I woke up and had to use the bathroom, like never before. It felt as if my back was about implode. When I went to feel it, I felt stitching, and found what seemed to be half of a kidney on my side table. There were a lot of bite marks in it, as if someone had been eating it. I retched and vomited. It was a revolting site. And I also found the same black ooze all over my sweat shirt. It was then that I knew something was not right.
That night I slept with one eye open. And I heard the door creak open. I had my knife under my covers and when I felt something crawl on top of me, I punched it, and it made this awful deafening high pitched scream, I threw my knife towards it’s neck, it struck and instead of blood he dripped that black smelly ooze. He had no eyes, and black liquid dripping from the sockets. He screamed more and more. I stabbed him in the stomach, and he responded by grabbing my arm and throwing me across the room. He removed the knife and threw it at me, barely skimming my arm before getting stuck in the wall. I pulled it out, and stabbed him once more in the stomach, and again through the neck. The blade went right through his neck.
“GO TO SLEEP.” I whispered as he wheezed his way to death. I grabbed my kidney, and went to the hospital. After the surgery I had both kidney’s, and a roommate.
“What happened?” He said.
“Go. To. SLEEP!”
How Eyeless Jack Came to Be
Written by The One Percent:
Jack had always had poor eyesight. Every since being a small toddler, he had known that his vision was impaired compared to the rest of his companions. He had to get prescription glasses ever since he turned three, and had to deal with having glasses that made him look like a total nerd. The worst part was probably the name calling like Four Eyes or Harry Potter; that he had to deal with. But despite all that, he had gotten used to it and grown into the glasses. Soon enough, everybody accepted them, and some people had even noticed he looked handsome with them on. So everything turned out alright.
Or so he thought.
When turning sixteen, Jack's vision had sort of turned... dotty. He would see random things happen to him that only he could see; for example, at times whenever he was talking to people they're faces would distort in weird way. They would look as if they were melting or collapsing into themselves, and it scared him immensely. He consulted his doctor who had prescribed the glasses, and he just blew it off as weak eyesight, and told him to be on his way.
The vision soon went from bad to worse. He would wake up with black running down his walls, turning his room into some deep, black box that kept him trapped. At school anyone he made eye-contact with would have their eyes bleed out black and make the most grotesque faces he had ever seen. This lead to the point that instead of going to school, Jack locked himself up in his room and wouldn't leave unless it was for food or for bathroom breaks. He avoided conversations with anyone, even his family. The only thing he would say were things like "Could you hand me a towel?" or any other daily needs, never anything like chit-chat.
While in his room one day, he heard a gentle knock on his door. "Who is it?" he asked.
The door creaked open a bit, his mother poking her head in."You have company; three friends of yours want to see if you're alright" she said sweetly. He blinked.
Instead of answering, three people barged into the room with grins on their faces. Jeff, a tall and lanky boy with a knack for grinning widely grabbed Jack and put him into a lock, giving a knuckle sandwich.
"Hey bud, where have ya been?"he joked, noogieing him.
Mason, aka "Masky", like his friends called him, stepped in afterwards, a small but sheepish smile tugging on his lips. He waved while Howard, "Hoodie" came in behind him, an annoyed look on his face.
"You guys came to see me?" Jack seemed astonished yet at the same time happy.
Mason chuckled. "Of course, we were worried. Right Hoodie?"
Hoodie didn't seemed that concerned, so he just gave a quick nod and went back to smoking a cigarette in his hands. Jack expected this attitude from him, though. Hoodie was the type that didn't like to be viewed to have any more emotions than a rock, but he knew well that they were still good friends.
"So, what's been troubling ya?" Jeff asked.
Jack's eyes flickered to the floor, avoiding anyone gaze. "I've been seeing weird things lately, things I don't really understand myself. Like, creepy, messed-up stuff. My doctor told me it was just part of my poor eyesight, but I don't really think he gets it."
Jeff nodded, and thought for a moment, scrunching up his nose. "Wish I knew someone who could help you there, dude." He sighed in defeat, shaking his head.
Masky thought for a moment too, and then quickly snapped his fingers. "Have you tried eating kidneys?"
They all looked at Masky with a confused, taken back look. He laughed a bit.
"I don't know where I read it, but I heard somewhere that if you eat enough kidney, your eyesight increases almost instantly. I think it also helps in brain functioning, and motor skills. Maybe you're just lacking kidney."
Jack swiped him on the head with the back of his palm, hitting the side of his skull.
"Are you stupid? That's one of the la-." Jack stopped himself.
"No no, Mason may have a point. I can"t remember the last time I had kidney, so maybe it's worth a shot."
In a quick motion, he grabbed his favorite black hoodie and bolted out the room, leaving with a quick note of "Got to get to the market" before leaving the house completely.
Jeff, Mason, and Howard stared in disbelief of how quick Jack had darted out the door, with Mason only noting under his breath "I may have been thinking of carrots."
"Are you sure you want to eat this, kidney isn't the best when it comes to tasting," his mother frowned as she served him a slice of the meat that had been cooking in the stove. He nodded eagerly, already cutting into his dinner and shoveling it into his mouth.
She watched, almost sickened by the barbaric way her son ate. "How is it?"
He chewed, savoring the flavor and taking a moment before answering. "Not that bad, tastes pretty good." he nodded in approval before eating more.
"Alright, just...take it easy." that was the last thing she said before leaving the room.
Jack woke up the next day, feeling a little bit better. He glanced at the walls of his bedroom, and to his surprise, they didn't bleed with black. He smiled, happy that Masky's advice had actually worked. He got up, got dressed and headed to school with a little bit more of a pep in his step. He waved to people, whistled a couple of songs, and interacted with almost everyone he met.
"Wow, I'm guessing the kidneys worked?" Masky laughed, seeing how full of life that his friend was. Jack nodded in agreement, smiling more eagerly than ever before.
"Like a charm. I owe you one." Jack fist-bumped Masky before heading off to the first class.
After a couple of days, the effect of the kidney soon wore off. Jack expected this, so he ran to the supermarket again afterwards, and soon enough his eyesight soon returned to normal like expected.
This cycle went on for a couple of months, and it cost most of Jack's allowance. He was now borrowing from his mother and father, doing chores to earn the money. But afterwards, on one particular day, he received horrific news.
The butcher nodded his head glumly while slicing up a piece of pork in his hands.
"'Fraid so. There's been a recall of kidney all over the state since some sort of sickness was being spread after eating them. Like, Swine flu or something like that"
Jack bit his lip. "You don't understand, I need this meat. I...I might go insane if I don't get it."
The butcher only pursed his lips and shook his head.
"Wish I could help you there, buddy. But we're all out. Gone. And don't bother going to other stores either, they've thrown all of it out too."
Jack's look of despair worsened, realizing that there wouldn't be meat for a while. A month at least, the butcher told him. He would have to deal with the melting faces and bleeding walls again.
He walked home in the rain, the raindrops falling on the pavement turning black the moment they hit the concrete. He shut his eyes, trying his best to shut out the terrible visions that demented him. But it wouldn't stop from there. The scenes that he had to witness, they were becoming too much for him. Everything he had to see for a daily basis was now breaking him. The faces became worse, turning more terrifying each day. He couldn't go on for a month, he couldn't.
"Jack, are you alright?" he looked up, a somewhat disembodied figure that he recognized to be his mother stood over him. Her eyes bleeding from the sockets with black ooze, her mouth missing and instead replaced with fangs and a overbite. Her hair was knotted and thinned out beyond belief.
He screamed, shielding himself from the sight before him. They were worse than before, the vision. He had to get kidney. He just had to keep himself from turning to the worse. He began to tear at his sockets, scratching at his cornea until he felt himself bleed. He didn't stop there though. He kept on using the point of his nails to claw out every single scrap of what was left of his eyeballs. He didn't want to see anything anymore. He just wanted...Kidney.
"Jack?" He looked at his mother. Humans carried kidneys right? Yeah, he remembered studying it back in Biology class. He needed the kidney so bad. Could he..?
"I need...." he followed the sound of his mother's voice, grabbing into the sewing of her skirt. He tugged until he made sure he had a good grip on her. Then, attacked.
She fell to the floor, scrambling to get away from her own son. "JACK! JACK STOP!" she shrieked, trying to push him off of her. But Jack had already began to dig into her skin with his own nails. The flesh on her stomach slowly began to rip apart until he felt muscle showing. He then blindly began to dig around for the prize. Where was it located. On the right? Yeah, that's where it was. It had to be. He would take a bite of every single organ in the body until he found his prize.
After nibbling on almost 20 body parts, he finally got the taste of his beloved kidney. He slowly savored the flavor of his own mother's organ. With one last gulp, he smiled.
He needed more.
"Hey dad, where are you going?" I asked, shifting my gaze from the television screen to see him slide an arm in his brown jacket sleeve.
"Sorry, honey, but the department need me there for a quick hour. They believe that they found a lead to the Kidney Thief that's running around (city name)." He yawned in his tired voice. His heavy bags seemed to add more wrinkles under and over his eyes.
"He's increasing his rates rapidly, isn't he?" I asked.
Dad shook his head, his hand capping the Chief hat as he stepped into the dark night. "Seems like it, doesn't it? It doesn't make any sense, though. Why would he want the kidneys? What use is it to him? It's just insanity how he manages to keep his victim in place, while he's performing the procedure in the dead of night. We already checked the records of all the medical staff and levels, only to have them skip clean. It truly is a puzzler..." He dragged his big hand down his face and started to close the door only to have to leave a crack for our eyes not to break contact with one another. "Lock all the doors and windows, darling. Don't move the blackout curtains for even a second. Last murder was on this area. Stay safe. Love you." With that he left.
I stood and clicked the remote off button and started my way to my room. I did what he said as I journeyed my travel up the stairs and to the last room on the left. I swung open the door and flopped on my bed after I paced the last steps. I sighed and turned to the picture of mom on my dresser.
"It's still hard to believe that you died, mom. All because you got cancer," I whispered.
She looked so beautiful when she was alive, and even when she was in her casket.
I sighed again at the the sad memory and the usual no response. "I'm going to take a shower, mom. Okay?"
Again, no response. Again, I sighed.
I walked into the bathroom that was connected to my bedroom for easier access.
I shivered at the cold temperature, having adjusted to the warmer temperature in my room. I checked the window of the bathroom and saw it was still shut tight.
I shrugged. Getting my red towel from under the sink. I began to strip out of my clothes as I released my long hair from the leather bobbles and shook the brown locks apart from each other.
I took off my undergarments, chucking them in the hamper, which looked awfully bigger than earlier.
Closing the door to the room containing the hamper, I stepped onto the bath mat, completely naked.
I reached behind the transparent, sliding doors and cupped the hot-and-cold handles, twisting then both at the same time. I waited for the different-temperature water to blend in and thrust my body in.
I was about to pour the shampoo gel onto my open palm and thought of an amazing idea.
"The house is quiet. No one's here. I might as well have a bath!" I thought happily to myself.
I jumped out of the shower and squatted in front of the sink's cabinet, pulling it open and grabbing the supplies I needed to enjoy a nice bath.
And just to be a royal spoil, rose petals!
I heard something grunt in... pleasure(?) from the hamper closet. I pressed my ear against the wood and listened carefully to the action on the other side. It sounded like heavy pants and, I was right, grunts of pleasure, as whatever started to murmur something that was too distant to be heard. Like it was muffling it.
I grasped the knob, twisting it slowly as it's opening copied the speed. I saw nothing out of the regular; the hamper was at the same height, so no one was hiding there. The ceiling had nothing crawling on it, so I shut the door and decided that the madness of anxiety from dad's ongoing case has got me all worked up.
I chuckled and prepared my haven, until I thought I heard a voice shiver my name in delight.
Again, I chuckled at my edginess.
When the bath was made, I sank lower in the tub, inhaling the sweet, artificial scent of lavender. The lovely petals drifted over my relaxed body as it remained drowning under the bubbly water. The hot water was now warm like my room and it felt like I was wrapped up in thick blankets. Everything was perfect.
That ended when I heard the door open and slam shut below the floor I'm currently on.
I knew dad would be grumpy, especially when it was late and, by the way the door slammed, the department came to the same dead-end.
He dragged his feet up the stairs and into his room.
Have I been here for an hour? Damn, relaxation can loose some bolts.
I yawned and stood from tub. Water streamed down my glistening body. I slowly rub the towel over my body and dry off my hair as it drips the water to the mat. I hummed "How Will I Know?" in my imagination of meeting my Prince in White.
The towel hugged my body as I unplugged the drain and threw the wet rose petals into the trash. I blew out the candles and cracked the bathroom door open for the aroma to float in my room and play with my nose as I fell in the whispers of my dreams.
I tiptoed into my room and licked my lips. I drew my drawer and grabbed a fresh pair of panties and a bra. I dropped the towel and let the bra cling to my torso and pulled the waistband of the rose-embroidered, matching panties up my legs.
I didn't bother putting on my pajamas as tomorrow dad will be leaving early and there is no school due to city's current situation. I fell backwards to the soft mattress and tossed the comforter over my body.
My suddenly heavy eyelids fluttered and I drifted into a easy-snore, despite the deep crap that has the whole place shaking up.
I awoke to a rustle on my right and as I opened my eyes. I saw a man's bare chest as his arms wrapped around my form. I held in my shriek with my pinched lips and slowly tried to squirm my way out, only to have him pull me closer as he moved his head from the crown of my head to my face.
"Hello, love. How did you sleep?" He yawned and lightly pecked my nose, slightly releasing his tongue to taste my skin.
"W-w-who are you?" I mentally-slapped myself for stuttering. "How did you get in?" I said, sounding a tad bit braver.
"My name is Jack. I'm your lover," he whispered huskily in my ear.
Due to the darkness, I couldn't see how he looks, but by the lack of clothes on myself, I felt him bare. He was lying naked on my bed with his ego, touching my womanhood through the panties. All I can see was his shadowing silhouette overpower my smaller one.
"I have no 'lover,'" I said harshly. I placed my hands on his chest and gave him a hard push, but he chuckled.
It wasn't even the kind of chuckle you give out at a slightly funny joke. It was a challenging chuckle, one that was filled with deviousness and evil. He grabbed my arse and the back of my head and hissed sickly, it being filled with so-called "love."
"I AM your lover! And I have the most perfect way to prove it."
He sat up straight and pulled me along with him. He covered my mouth with the hand that held my head in place to the left. His other muscular arm went under my armpit and clenched my left breast in his hand. He made me arch my back against his carved chest as he flicked out his tongue and slithered the slimy muscle up my neck, slowly.
"You truly taste delicious, dear." He slightly cackled and bit hard into my neck like a thirsty vampire as I whimpered in pain, but came muffled, due to the appendage capping my mouth from releasing the call for help.
He slurped loudly on the blood leaking out of the fresh wound and licked away any metallic liquid he missed, before kissing it. He sucked major hickeys around my neck and lets go of the bruise with a satisfying pop. He trailed his cold lips to my jaw-line and kissed his way to the corner of my mouth, letting go and forcing his lips upon mine. He grunted and nursed on the saliva resting on my tongue as he felt every crook and cranny with his own. He twisted my body to face his, holding his head at a better angle. He held both my hands above my head with one hand, while the other tried to depart the clip of my bra.
Tears streamed down my face as I felt his tongue delve deeper for an unknown prize and took this as my chance to bite down on his tongue. Hard.
Surprised by my action and pain, he slightly let go of me and I took this as a chance to beat fast.
I took off and exited into the hallway as I heard him snarl.
"Michelle! If I were you, if come back here before i get you myself! And, so help me, I won't go easy!"
Thunder booms outside, but isn't that my heart? Lightening strikes, but that's just the adrenaline?
I race to dad's room, only to find the room untouched like how he left it when he left to the department. I searched frantically for him as I checked under the bed for him like a child would do when they're playing hide-and-seek.
I turned in time to see Jack come in and he tackled me to the ground by my waist. He lifted me in the air and threw me on the bed. Before I can even register my position, he crawled on my lap and grabbed both wrists and handcuffed them to the headboard.
"You shouldn't be here, Michelle. I was going to give it to you after I showed you how much I loved you, but looks like that you can't wait for the surprise. So I'll give it to you, now." He pulled away and walked to the closet in my dad's room.
He drew the handles back and revealed my "gift."
I screamed in sadness and ultimate denial.
He rolled my dad out of the closet in his computer chair. His chest had a fist-size hole where his heart is supposed to be and his head was missing. And I think that his eyes were in his chest, in place for his heart.
I hyperventilated as I felt bile arise in my throat.
"Michelle, this is what I wanted to give you." Jack took out my dad's head and places it on his right palm as the other gripped two fingers in the bloody sockets and gently opened the mouth from the repelling force. Inside the mouth was his heart and he took out the organ from my once-alive dad.
"I wanted to let you know, you stole my heart. And I knew I couldn't give you mine without dying. So, I thought, that since you loved your father, you can love me because I'm giving you the heart of someone you love. I read that girls like these kind of things. I do apologize that I couldn't carve a message in it. I'll set it aside for now, okay?" He left the head and heart on the dresser and repositioned himself at my entrance as he removed the panties and bra. "I want to hear your every sound."
I stared at the decapitated head and ripped heart. I looked to the tied body with missing parts. I turned to the silhouette as lightening strikes. My eyes widened at what I saw.
A boy with messy brunette hair and gray, clammy skin was staring at me. He had no eyes, only black sockets that oozed a black substance down his face. He had shark-like teeth that showed every ounce of blood-stained row of jagged edges.
"You won't get away with this..." I whispered. He laughed like a maniac and faced me.
"If I can get away with murder, I can get away with another body and be charged of a kidnapping!" He smirked at my expression and attacked my neck.
"You're not going to get away with this...someone will stop you..." I whispered in retaliation.
He stopped. "Give it a rest. You and I both know that that will never happen. Why won't you just admit you're wrong?"
The Boogeyman Faces Against Eyeless Jack
I told you all about my first encounter with the Boogeyman when I was just ten; let me now tell you about the most terrifying time I met the Boogeyman, and the reason I think he's friendly. to me, at least.
When I was twelve, I was recruited into a coven; it started out innocently enough, deeply into the 'harm none' sect of Wicca and witchcraft, but we took a turn for the bad soon enough. A bit of background, we were summoners. Toby, our leader, the one who brought us all together, was especially adept at summoning things, attracting them without words most times, actually. Of course, with such talents and open minds, bad things gravitated towards us, and we had to learn to kill them, or at least drive them away. We each had our own weapon: an item so soaked with our energy and killing spirit that on it's own it could kill small bad spirits. Mine was a kitchen knife, seven inches long, with a red handle and runes burned into the blade from a particularly rowdy demon that I went toe-to-toe with.
I was sixteen when I heard the Boogeyman scratching; as usual, I ignored him, because he still terrified me, and I was with Toby. The last time I had opened the door with someone else with me, he had attacked them. Toby and I weren't really doing anything, just lounging around and reading some urban legends for sh*ts and giggles; we had discovered Creepypastas and were curious as to which ones were real, and which ones could be summoned. We had already resolved to play the Midnight Man game at a later date, but other than that, we hadn't spoken any calling words, hadn't tried to lure anything to us to drain and add to our collection of broken evils.
The scratching became a knocking, and I glared at the chest that it was coming from. "Not tonight, Boogey, you don't play well with others," I remember Toby saying. My knife was on the altar, a good ten feet away from where Toby and I were lounging on the couch. Toby's killing weapon, a black fingerless biker glove, was there as well. We had intended on cleansing the items and reworking the protections on the house, particularly the basement we were in, but we hadn't quite gotten to it. The knocking became a pounding, and the chest rattled a bit; I was startled, because my Boogeyman, who was always so polite and nice to me, had never acted like this.
"What's wrong with him?" Toby asked; he looked as concerned as I felt. I opened my mouth to answer, but stopped. There, on the stairs leading down to our underground sanctuary, was a figure. He was crouched, in a blue hoodie, and shorts. His feet were bare, and his head was tilted toward us. The light was behind him, and I couldn't make out his face, but I knew. That was my thing, my ability, the reason I was useful; I knew, I know, I always do.
Standing on our stares was Eyeless Jack.
"How did he get in the house?" I asked softly. Toby had tensed next to me, his body already gearing for a fight. The knocking had, strangely, gone silent.
"The protections needed redoing, and he's nothing we've dealt with before; he must have slipped through a hole," Toby said quietly.
"The chest," I said, and Toby nodded; he knew, like I did, that neither of us were strong enough to take Eyeless Jack on head-to-head without the rest of our coven. Jack was between us and our weapons, and without them we were only half as strong.
The chest was closer, to my right, but taking our eyes off Jack would mean he would attack, and going to the chest would take him out of my line of sight.
"We can't look away," I murmured, "But he'll attack after a while anyway." "You're the only one who can open the chest," Toby said back, and he moved forward slightly as Jack took a step closer. "Okay. Get the weapons. I'll open the chest."
Toby and I, used to fighting together, moved as one. I dived for the chest, slicing my thumb open on the lock and whispering the words that would open it. I heard crashing, and Toby scream, but I didn't look back; Toby would make it, he always did.
There was more struggling behind him, and the locks on the chest were twirling, ushered on by my frantic whispers, and I felt him approaching my unprotected back; I heard Toby moaning in pain, so he wasn't dead yet, and I kept talking, coaxing the locks open, and cursing myself for not keeping something easier to open down here.
The locks were on their last twirl, and Jack was behind me; I couldn't look, couldn't move, and I screamed as the apparition shoved his hand into my side; his hand was around my kidney, intent on theft, when the chest popped open.
For a moment, there was nothing; then, the Boogeyman, as he truly, truly looks, rose up and up and up and up.
He was massive; his limbs were longer than me, his fingers sharp and shiny like metal, and his mouth was full of teeth, his jaw as big as a watermelon. His clothes were hanging from his skinny torso, his pants completely gone, and he was making a soft, vibrating noise almost like purring only... much more menacing.
"Get off," he said, though his mouth didn't move. Eyeless Jack growled, but he released me and I scrambled out of the way, limping towards Toby, who was barely conscious, and grabbed my knife. There was the sound of Jack's growling, and Boogeyman's not-purring, and then nothing. When I dared look back, there was only Boogeyman, in his human form, blood covering his mouth, and a blue hoodie in his hand. There was no other sign of Jack, and he tossed the hoodie to me. I caught it, and gasped, because he was right in front of me now, glaring down at Toby. "Thank you," I said.
He ignored me, and grabbed Toby by the throat. I tried to jump up, to help him, but I couldn't move. "You protected her," Boogeyman said. "I will give you a gift. Use it well." The lights went out, and we were in darkness for a whole minute. When they came back on, Boogeyman was gone, the chest was closed, and we were both healed. And Toby, who had had the clearest, bluest eyes of anyone I had ever met, now had brown eyes that reminded me of chocolate.