You didn’t know why exactly you did it. Sure, in a fictional sense, you would be able to say ‘wow he’s so hot’ about a demon. In real life? NO! So why have you?

It might have started around the time you were -forcibly- recruited into Slendermans gang of wilting sick psychos. You, being the ‘ok bet’ kind of person you were, didn’t fight it. I mean, the boss was literally a freaky physiologically advantaged fucking demon who could control your very mind and body like a puppet.

Of course, being one of these so called ‘proxies’ or henchman or whatever one would call it, did not come without consequences. For example— injuries.

Your first time on a mission a guy had shot you in the thigh before Hoodie, who was sort of mentoring you at the time, killed him. After that, Hoodie had taken you to ‘Ejs’ cabin— which you quickly found out that Ej stood for eyeless Jack.

After Jack had patched you up, and sent you on your way… you couldn’t help but find him weirdly attractive without even seeing his face. I mean, Toby had told you Jack was a cannibal demon, but it only drew you into a sick fascination, ending up with getting hurt a little more then frequent just to talk to him.

Like now. You sat on his couch as he stitched up a cut on your forearm, his mask firmly affixed on his face, his empty eye sockets seeming to study your gash delicately.

“… how did this happen?”

Jack drawled with a cold tone from under his mask. Jack knew you had some sort of obsession with him— he just didn’t care back. He found it disgusting and humorous. Like a dog loving a cat— it can’t be.