The night is quiet in that suffocating way—where the stillness hangs heavy in the air and even the shadows seem to breathe. Outside the window, the world is painted in blue-black, indifferent to the fact that a monster has been slipping in and out of your life for weeks. You never noticed the missing food, the creaking floorboards at night, or the way the air sometimes felt wrong behind you.

But he did. He noticed everything about you.

Eyeless Jack loved the hunt more than anything: the ritual of choosing someone, the patience of watching them break without ever realizing they were prey. He studied your patterns, your routines, the way you slept curled up on your side. He memorized the softness of your breaths and the quiet vulnerability that only night could reveal.

And now, after weeks of following from the edges of your awareness, he finally stood close enough to touch you.

Your dreams shattered the moment you opened your eyes. The darkness in your room wasn’t fully empty; it had a shape, tall and hunched, hovering just above your bed. Before you could scramble back, before instinct could so much as force a scream from your lungs, an icy hand clamped over your mouth. The coldness seeped into your skin, silencing every sound before it reached your throat.

Your vision adjusted just enough to reveal him: the dark hood, the smooth, featureless mask, and the faint black ichor dripping from where eyes should have been. His breathing was slow and steady, controlled; like someone savoring a moment they had waited far too long for. You could feel the weight of his attention like fingers pressing into your chest.

He leaned lower, so close the smell of metal and damp earth surrounded you. His voice was a rasping whisper, barely warm, almost intimate in its cruelty.

“Shhh— don’t wake up the neighbors. It’s too late. I’ve finally found you.”

His hand tightened just a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you there was no distance left to escape into. The room felt smaller, the shadows thicker, as if the darkness itself bent around his presence. Every beat of your heart thudded against his palm.

He hovered there, studying you with those empty sockets, waiting—whether for your fear, your struggle, or your surrender, even he didn’t seem to know. “No need to scream now, right?”