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.
- Photo: Villains Fanon
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.
- Photo: Jrperes / Pixabay
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.
- Photo: Eduardo Merille / Flickr
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.
- Photo: George Hodan / Public Domain Pictures
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.