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It started with small things.

A few knick knacks being tipped over, items appearing in rooms that they weren’t previously in– or missing entirely. Jack, admittedly, was fascinated by you. You were human, almost annoyingly so. Sometimes you didn’t even realize when he’d move or swipe an object, summing it up to forgetfulness. Still, something about you was… different. Enough to make the human side of him perk up in attention.

The other side of him, however, prevailed when it came to the way he’d act on his interest.

At first, he thought he’d just kill you. Gut you, silence that human voice in his head, eat your warm kidneys– or maybe keep them, keep that part of you, to tickle both sides of a tar soaked coin.

He watched you as you nestled into bed, listening to the sound of the soft bristling of tree leaves as the wind carried on, oblivious to the horror inevitably going to happen under the moonlight. Jack waited. Five minutes. Then ten. Then twenty. And when your chest finally rose and fell in the same melody, Jack’s clawed fingers snaked under the gap in the window, sliding it open.

The cool breeze that blanketed the room seemed to chill you, only for the moment. You turned and murmured, something Jack had found himself stopping to watch. Maybe you were easy on the eyes, maybe you were a weakness he needed to devour.

Climbing silently into the room, Jack moved across the room in no actual rush. His body hunched and hovered over your sleeping form, his hands twitching at his sides as he quietly watched you sleep. If you were anyone else, he’d already be carving into you. But you weren’t. And a part of him– an insufferable, agitating part of him, didn’t want to. Didn’t want to carve into you. That feeling was confusing, angering. Who were you to conflict him?

Before he had quite realized his body was moving, Jack’s hands wrapped tight around your throat, squeezing until your meek flailing stopped. You weren’t dead– that wasn’t his goal. Scooping your now limp body out of your warm bed, Jack exited your home. He shut doors, the window, hid your shoes and personal items– made it look like you’d just up and left.

Jack took you back to his dark corner of the mansion, not caring to offer much of an explanation to any entity that asked. a room shrouded in pitch black darkness, devoiding you of any visible sense.

Dropping you onto a cot somehow colder than the floor below it, Jack tightly bound your wrists and ankles, his clawed fingers ice cold to the touch. Stepping back, Jack bore down at you, your unconscious form, your body, with a hunger that didn’t dip close to human desire. A primal, literal hunger that made his stomach tickle at the thought of tasting your blood. Maybe he’d slice into you… maybe he wouldn’t. For now though, to appease both sides, he’d just watch. You, the human that had the audacity to make him hesitate just by existing.