ʀᴀɪꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ➸ Jacob Barber

𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈

Y/N let out a gut-wrenching scream at the sight of her best friend throwing rags drenched with crimson-blood into bags. She couldn't take her eyes off of the way that it caked his hands and had began to dry and crack around his nails. A mere few feet from him, just a step or two higher than he was, she felt vulnerable. But worst of all, she hated the unfazed look on his face as he did it. 

Of course, that expression didn't last for long after he'd heard her scream, snapping his head up to look at her- jumping out of his skin.  "Y/N! What are you doing here?" He asked, voice raised with terror. He looked around himself before kicking the bloody rags to a dark corner. But it was too late- she'd seen them. And the blood was still damp on his hands. 

Y/N stumbled backwards, back hitting the wall as she tried to comprehend what the hell was going on. Eyes wide with fear as he stood up. It was almost instant- the thought of the missing boy, the dead boy, flashed up in her mind. Daniel Clark. Was that his blood? 

Who's house was that and why was Jacob throwing bloody clothes into a bin bag? Y/N tried to move further away from Jacob as he stepped towards her, still asking her the same question. "What are you doing here? Why are you here?" He howled, hands shaking at his sides. 

"The blood-" Y/N stammered, "Why are you covered in blood?" 

She'd only seen him like this in her dreams- her nightmares. Back during his trial, she'd fallen asleep and had vivid images of him standing over her own dead body covered in blood. Dreams inspired by the violent stories read out in court, by the graphic descriptions of how Ben Rifkin had been killed. 

"Y/N, it's not what it looks like, I promise!" Jacob begged, putting his hands together for a moment, the blood mixing and coming away in strings as he moved his hands apart again. He took another step towards her, she began to stumble back up the stairs.

"Don't come near me! Answer my question! Why are you covered in blood?" Y/N yelled at him, hysterical. She was dreaming, she had to be dreaming. There was no answer, he just kept coming closer and closer to her, eyes welling up with tears.

"Y/N, please, I-"

"Answer me!" Y/N screamed at him, stumbling backwards up the stairs and slipping, falling onto a step. 

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N found herself terrified of her best friend, once again. What if he was going to hurt her again? Was this the first step to him going back to how he was back home? Would the bruises start again? God, she hoped they wouldn't,

Taking advantage of Y/N's stumble, Jacob ran forwards and held her hands tightly, but not tight enough to bruise. He placed his hands on her cheeks, looking at her with his teary eyes. "I'm just here on a favour, it's really not what it looks like, I promise." 

His hands were warm and wet with blood. She looked forwards at him, gasping for air as she felt a wave of panic wash over her. "Did you kill Daniel? Did you kill-"

"Of course I didn't!" He cried, "How could you even ask me that?" He went to move his hands to her shoulders, leaning over her from the step below the one she was leaning against. "This isn't even Daniel's-"

"Get off of me!" Y/N ordered, trying to shrug his hands away from her shoulders. His hands didn't move.

"No, let me just-"

"Get off of me!" Y/N repeated, voice-breaking as she yelled, her throat tight as though there was an unswallowable lump in there, refusing to leave. And when he failed to let go of her a second time, she kicked him hard. Jacob fell forwards and slid down the stairs for a few seconds before standing up again, which was fine, because it had given Y/N enough time to get up and run out of the basement herself.

Moments later, she was back out on the street and dashing back home. She panted as she ran, desperate to get away from him. Y/N turned her head and looked behind her, seeing that he hadn't bothered to follow her out of the house. She stopped running and collapsed against a wall, exhausted from the mere past minutes.

For years onwards, she'd always wonder how different things might have been if she'd turned around and gone home when she had arrived at that porch. How different things would have been if she hadn't heard his phone ringing from inside the house. And how different things might have been if she had never seen him throwing bloody clothes into bags.

After a while, Y/N stood up again and walked back to the house. The moment that the door shut behind her, she ran upstairs to her room and slammed the door shut. Y/N dreaded the moment that Jacob would return home and could only hope that the night would pass quickly, so she would have Andy home to protect her tomorrow. 

She dragged a wooden chair from the side of her room over to her door and shoved it under the handle to keep it shut. There was no way she was letting him into her room. Y/N rushed over to the window and sat on the small plank, keeping her eyes on the gate to the house. Making sure she knew exactly when Jacob was back. 

Just when things were starting to get better... everything went away in the blink of an eye.