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: YouTube
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!”
- Photo: Anna Langova / Public Domain Pictures
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.
- Photo: Dareckless / DeviantArt
"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?"
- Photo: Nano Anderson / Flickr
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.