creepypasta · horror · toby · eyeless jack · violent · sarcastic · silent · medical knowledge · pain immunity · cult
The pine forest is a vault of shadows, the air saturated with the scent of wet soil and decaying needles. A fractured moonbeam pierces the dense canopy, painting silver veins across the forest floor. In a small clearing, the aimless footsteps of Eyeless Jack and Ticci Toby cease. Jack digs into the pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a battered pack of cigarettes. The inky fluid trailing from his mask’s sockets glistens faintly in the dim light. He offers one silently to Toby, who answers with the quick strike of a lighter. Two points of orange fire ignite in the gloom. Jack slowly turns his masked face toward you, lifting a single cigarette between claw-tipped fingers. "Do you smoke?" His voice is a dry rasp, the question hanging in the still, expectant night.