Chapter Text
I'm a killer, cold and wrathful
Silent sleeper, I've been inside your bedroom,
He’s been watching you for a long time.
From the woods outside your house as you tend the garden; through your glass doors into your sitting room; even into your bedroom window. Sure, it’s two stories high, but that’s never been a problem for Jack. He’s spry enough to get up there, and even if there wasn’t a convenient ledge below your window, he could probably cling to the wall itself for hours. You were a relatively simple creature – you followed such an uncomplicated routine, going to work, looking after your flowers, hanging out with friends. The usual kind of thing for a totally normal person.
It was so incredibly captivating to him, though, despite how plain it was. He was enthralled.
For months, he returned to your home, but never once did he hurt you. He never let his presence known; if you knew, it would only hinder things. You would run, you would cry, and then he would have to gut you, or worse – kill you. Instead, he gorged on others from your hometown.
No one knew a thing.
Sometimes, he caught you in.. compromising positions. How he would have loved to join you, to be the one to bring you such pleasure, but ultimately he knew it would never happen like that. So he satisfied those urges in other ways, alone. Just imagining it was you.
It took several months of careful watching, but it was a thrill to finally enter your bedroom. Of course, he came in through the window as you slept. It was as natural as breathing, and honestly the easiest way to break in. You were sound, unaware, even as he stood above you.
Oh, how easy it would be to just end this now. To remove your organs, devour you and be done with it. Then he could move on. But the very thought of harming you was, dare I say, painful to Jack.
He’d never felt this way before.
It wasn’t normal.
That very first time, he didn’t stay long. An odd sensation in his gut had him leave early, just in case he fucked up somewhere, and you woke up.
After that, he got used to the feeling, even as it grew stronger. It no longer stopped him from visiting you in the night. As always, you remained unaware.
And then, one night, you weren’t.
In your bed, it had looked and sounded as if you were asleep. So, as he normally would, Jack pried your window open – it was easier now, since you kept it open for the height of summer. One leg swung over the sill, and he slipped inside effortlessly.
He didn’t count on you sitting up. There was alarm written all over your pretty face, even as you scrambled out from beneath the sheets. In one hand you held a bat; you had been expecting him.
Somewhere, somehow, Jack had been careless.
He tried to think back, to understand what had tipped you off, but nothing came to mind. He was always vigilant. You must just be smarter than you looked.
Which still means that he underestimated you.
“Who are you!?” Your voice is thick with panic, even as you edge towards the door, “Why are you here!?”
It was a conflict, to say the least; your fear was beautiful, enticing, and yet, he wished you weren’t.
At least, not of him.
He let you flee. When you threw the door open, he escaped back out through the window. It was as if he had never been there.
When the police arrived, you were sobbing on the porch, the bat still in hand; Jack watched from the safety of the woods. Not that the police could take him down, or even hold him back. No, it was for your safety that he stayed away. He couldn’t have you caught in the crossfire.
The police did a search of your home, but obviously they didn’t find anything; and just like that, he was written off as a night terror. You weren’t convinced.
After that, every door, every window, was locked down. The bat remained by your head, in case of an emergency, and you installed security cameras too. Your friends had laughed at you for that, as if you were paranoid and delusional. Even when you insisted. They were snide, cruel, and Jack wasn’t about to stand for that.
So, he did what any good lover would do.
He killed them. It was the ringleader first, the one goading the others into their mistreatment of you; he took particular joy in butchering her like cattle. Her organs were bitter, much like herself, but it made Jack feel all the better to know that he was improving your life.
He didn’t expect you to be upset.
He didn’t expect you to go the funeral.
He certainly didn’t expect you to continue to visit her grave, or even remain friends with the others. It was sickening. You were far too nice. These people needed to suffer for what they had done to you. You just didn’t see it that way.
In a massive exercise in self-control, he allowed them to live; he allowed you to keep seeing them.
If only to make you happy.
It was shortly after that Jack came to realise exactly what he was feeling towards you. It was love, plain and simple. Not something he ever thought he’d experience, but what else could it be? He adored you. Was it a little bit unhealthy? Yeah, but to be fair, he isn’t exactly a normal guy.
At least, that’s how he tried to justify it.
But he couldn’t break into your home again. Despite how much he cared, he remained at a distance. He didn’t want you to be afraid of him.
Instead, he came up with another solution – he would leave you love letters. But where could he give you them where you wouldn’t run away screaming?
The answer came to him at the graveyard.
You were visiting her again, leaving a beautiful arrangement of flowers from your own garden. Maybe it was just him, but Jack couldn’t understand how you could still care. After clearing away old leaves, tidying around the headstone, you left.
He watched you from the treeline; and that’s when it hit him.
If he left it on the grave, you were sure to see it. And then you’d understand why he did what he did. Yes, it was a flawless plan. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand by now, so he knew with certainty that you’d be back in exactly one week.
And when you did, he would be ready for you.
Time passed quickly.
The graveyard was quiet, empty aside from the dead. Well, and Jack. He didn’t want to stick around for too long in case you saw him, so he was quick to tuck the letter between the stone and the dead flowers. It was easily visible, so without another thought he found somewhere out of sight to wait.
You weren’t late, arriving right when he thought you would. In your arms, a fresh arrangement of flowers. You busied yourself with replacing the flowers, refilling the vase with fresh water from the little house. As you moved the old ones, the envelope fell onto the grass, a delicate white.
A look of confusion crossed your face, and Jack tried not to panic. He didn’t want to jump the gun too quickly and startle you, but he needed you to look. He needed you to pay attention and read. After disposing on the wilted stalks, you made your way back to the grave; to the envelope.
You crouch to pick it up with trembling fingers, and you almost dropped it again to see your name on the front. After a rapid look around – for whoever might have left it, though luckily you don’t seem to see him – you pulled the envelope open. As you read, Jack wonders whether he should approach you now.
His legs are moving before he can stop them. On measured, catlike steps, he’s behind you before he knows it. Your shoulders jump when his shadow falls on you.
When you turn, you fall right onto your backside, spine flush against the headstone. Your mouth is agape, as if you want to scream, but curiously, you don’t.
Water swims in frightened [colour] eyes, but you don’t cry, either.
Slowly, he kneels before you. One hand reaches out, and out of instinct your eyes close. You’re so sure he’s going to kill you.
But he doesn’t. In that gloved hand, he cups your cheek, swiping away the stray tear that fell with his thumb. Beneath the fabric, your cheeks are warm. So warm, and soft too, he almost wants to take you here and now, to make you his.
But he knows he can’t do that. it would be wrong.
He will only take what you freely give him.
He hopes that you’ll give him everything.
I've murdered half the town
left you love notes on their headstones
I'll fill the graveyards until I have you.