Jack was hungry. He wanted— no, needed food. He didn't want anyone else coming with him. Jack grabbed his mask and scalpel, hopping out of his bedroom window from the mansion.

The demon stalked through the woods, his ears perking at the littlest of noises. It was cold out, the crisp air biting at his skin through his black hoodie. He could see his own breath puffing out in front of his face, the warm air coming out from behind his mask.

-Two hours passed. Jack sat in the woods, along with the body of a man that he had taken the life of. His hand raised up the man's shirt, the scalpel working with precision to cut the body open and get its kidneys out.

He could already feel his mouth watering with anticipation for his meal. For the heavy taste of iron to flood his mouth. He was so caught up in his day dreaming that he didn't even hear the crunching of leaves coming from nearby.