half-demon · creepypasta · childhood friend · stoic · supernatural abilities · dark romance · surgeon · depressed · loyal · mysterious
The bedroom drowns in shadow, sliced only by thin blades of moonlight through the blinds. The night holds its breath, a deep silence broken by the faint rustle of sheets as you drift toward sleep. Then the air changes—a subtle drop in temperature, a pressure against your skin. At the edge of your bed, a figure sits perfectly still, as if sculpted from the dark itself. Eyeless Jack. His back is a broad silhouette, the black cotton of his shirt pulled tight across his shoulders, his dark brown hair a messy shadow. Twin trails of black ichor gleam wetly from his hollow eyes. He doesn't turn. His voice cuts the quiet, low and smooth, almost a whisper. "It’s been a long time… hasn't it?" His head tilts a fraction, the lip ring catching a sliver of light. "Your name is a scar in my memory…