Glass Eye (Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Chapter Eleven

I wanted to attack him for the absolute nonsense that had left his mouth. I wanted to punch him, push him, something. But I couldn't. I curled my knees up to my chest and held them tightly with my bruised arms, tears streaming down my face as I audibly sobbed.

I cried into my knees harder than I had ever cried before. Henry was gone. In the moments I had been the most scared in my entire life, I called out for him. Yet, when I thought my life was really ending, when Jack had strangled me, he didn't enter my thoughts once. I had thought about my past boyfriends and how I would be standing up my best friend because I had received the news about Henry. Almost as if he was an inconvenience. Was he?

Grief was such a confusing thing. Did I love him? Did I hate him? Did I love him for who he was, or for what he provided me with? Did I hate him because of things he had actually done, or for leaving me like this? Did I really hate him at all, or did I hate myself?

"You had fire in your eyes for a second, (Name). I thought you were going to do something ill-advised," Jack chuckled. I could feel his unwavering gaze on me, even from across the room. Such a strange aura he gave off. It was like the human body knew that this man was a predator, and would react to him as if he was. But, against my better judgement, I didn't think he was a predator. I thought he was a monster. Not for the obvious reasons, but because he had said and done hurtful things without caring about the damage he'd caused. I shouldn't have expected him to, though. A creature such as him shouldn't be assumed to be anything but what he was; an abomination.

"I k-know,-" I bit my tongue before I could do something irrational. I wouldn't use the minimal knowledge I had about him against him yet. I had to gather more against him to make the reveal more shocking. The only ammunition I would even have against him at the moment would be based off of a dream. I so badly wanted to throw it all in his face. How helpless he was as the group killed him. I wanted to expose him for his weakest moments as he had done to me, but, though I badly wanted to retaliate, I'd have to wait.

Though I didn't fully see it in my dream, or more precisely, nightmare, I had enough common sense to see the relation between the bloodied spoon and his eyes missing. How badly I wanted to say, "I really don't need therapy from a man who was killed with a spoon,".

Don't do it. Not yet.

"You know? I'm sure you know not to cross that line with me again, but I'm not exactly sure that that was what you were going to say," His head tilted as he crouched down, his hands outstretched in front of him on top of each other, his fingers fanning out.

I lifted my head slightly to look at him, and he noticed the small movement. He raised his hand, and lifted two fingers to give me the 'come here' gesture. I refused, lowering my head yet again.

Why would I go to him just to get kicked or punched again? I wouldn't humiliate myself for his own sick pleasure.

"Did I strike a nerve?"

Suddenly, his voice was alarmingly close. My head rose quickly, just to see his face inches from my own. Except, he didn't have a smug look on his face, nor a mocking smirk. He looked serious, almost as if he was genuinely concerned that he may have crossed a boundary.

I took a moment to clear my throat, and went to wipe my eyes with my hand, but his own hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

My eyes widened at the sudden movement as I stared at his other hand as he slowly raised it. He hesitated for a moment, as if he was deeply thinking about his next moves before he made them. He extended his index finger, his hand nearing dangerously close to my face. His nail barely brushed my cheek before he retracted it. I watched in absolute horror as he raised the nail, freshly wet with a single tear from my cheek, to his mouth.