Object of Desire ; Eyeless Jack x Reader

Chapter 11

        The books Jack brought me varied in genre, there were some horror novels, some fantasy, even some romance. Seemed like at least for a few days I finally got something to do. Maybe, if I regain some strength, I could start doing some sports or something. Just something simple to keep my muscles from fading away. Of course, Jack would have to keep the chains away for longer then. He didn't seem to mind me being free for now. Maybe he was just too tired to think about it. He definitely looked way more exhausted than usual. Well anyway, I picked out a book that seemed interesting. 'The Outsider' by Stephen King. I watched a lot of movies based on his novels but I never actually read his books. Luckily, I had all the time in the world to catch up on that while I was locked up.

I read for quite a while until the sun was too far down to bring enough light into my room. I looked around for a light switch in my room and found one right next to the door. Turning it on and watching the room get engulfed in light once again, I started questioning why this old, dusty house in the middle of the woods even had functioning electricity. Whatever the reason was, at least I could read for a bit longer until I became tired enough to sleep again.

After a while, I noticed my eyes really becoming too tired to focus on the book. The words slowly became blurry and I had trouble focusing my eyes on the small writing. I took that as a sign to go to sleep instead, closed the book and placed it on the floor next to my bed before turning off the light. I covered myself with the blanket and rolled onto my back to look at the ceiling. It wasn't particularly interesting. I just took a second to think about the past few day again. I wasn't sure how long I've been in this house. Maybe a week? Or a bit less? About 5 days maybe? Did it even matter? I sighed. I thought back to my masked kidnapper. Jack. His name sounds weirdly normal for someone so strange. What did I expect? Asmodeus or something?

I shook my head at my own thoughts. Jack acted strange when I called him into my room earlier to ask for the books. The way his messy hair was just all over the place. The way he just mindlessly scratched his head while thinking about something. For the first time since he took me away from my home, he seemed strangely normal. I only viewed him as some kinda monster before. Murdering my family. Kidnapping me and chaining me up. It never ocurred to me that when he wasn't doing these kinda things, maybe he was just acting like a normal human being. Was he just chilling on a couch in the living room, watching TV or something? Was he playing video games in his free time? Was he really just 'normal' with a strange hobby?

No. He was sick and twisted. He ate my sister's organs. I never even thought about it until that moment. He wasn't even cooking it or anything. He ripped it out of her body and straight up ate it raw. No 'normal' human being would just do that. Can the stomach even digest raw organs? Wouldn't you just throw up from it immediately? Was Jack even human? Why was I even thinking about him so much? It didn't matter who or what he was. I had to focus on just getting out. Well, recovering until I was strong enough again and then getting out.

I thought back to my failed attempts. I just had to figure out a way to escape without him catching me again. But it just seemed like he was totally expecting it. He was always directly behind me and immediately sniffed out where I was as if he was just waiting for me to escape so he could chase me around for a while. Something in my head clicked. Was that the reason why he kidnapped me? So he could chase me around and play his little mindgames with me? What if he wanted me to escape, wanted me to feel somewhat safe and hopeful to finally leave only to have all these hopes immediately crushed as his footsteps closed in on my from behind? He's sick. That's just cruel. Did he by any chance even place the hair pin under my bed on purpose so I could loosen my chains? Did he leave the windows and doors unlocked so I could run into the forest? No, it couldn't be. The hair pin looked like it spent quite a long time there, being all dusty and old.

I yawned. Trying to figure out Jack's personality wasn't really a top priority right now. Whatever his reasons for kidnapping me were, it didn't matter. I should just go to sleep for now. As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard footsteps in the hallway outside my room. For a second I got scared Jack was going to come in. I didn't see any reason why he should though and listening to the footsteps apparently just passing my room and proceeding into the living room calmed my initial shock again. I heard a door slam shut. Was he going out? Another murder spree perhaps? Being too tired to think about it more, I fell asleep.

*~*

I spent the next morning primarily with continuing to read my book. I was very glad about finally having something to do as it really helped making the time go by faster. I was so invested in the plot of the book, I barely even noticed footsteps approaching my room. The sound of the door getting unlocked finally ripped me out of my concentrated reading. The door opened to reveal Jack, just like every day with his first aid kit and another bowl of presumably heated up canned food. I placed my book beside me on the bed and held out my injured hand to him. Neither of us said anything while Jack bandaged up my hand again. When he got up to gather the kit and the barely touched bowl of food from the day before he hesitated at the door for a second. He looked at me and then at the fresh bowl of food that was placed beside my bed on the floor.

"Eat." He said, or rather demanden before closing the door behind him and once again locking it. Was he worried about me starving to death in his house? Or was he just waiting for me to recover quickly so he could play his twisted games of catch and hide and seek again? Somehow I felt very bitter about eating the food he gave me. Maybe he even poisoned it. I felt the urge to just leave the food untouched, solely out of spite at this point. But I also realized I barely ate anything for days and I was sure as hell not getting any stronger from hunger. I sighed and reached down for the bowl. At least he put some variety in it and didn't give me the same soup every day. I picked up the spoon and slowly started eating. It actually felt kinda good to get some warm food in my stomach. Trying to enjoy at least some little moments in my current life of captivity and fear, I finished my bowl before leaning back and grabbing my book again.

Not like I have anything else to do anyway.