You had no idea how long it had been since Jack had hit you, but you could still feel the sting. He was sitting on the floor at the foot of your cot, reading a book on something. You couldn't tell, because the entire thing was blank. It was rather bland, color-wise; the cover was black, and that was all. Jack looked like he was looking at the page and following the text with his finger, but given that you couldn't see any ink on the paper, you assumed it was in braille.

You thought back to what clown-Jack had said about this Jack.

"The other Jack – resident doctor, demon, and cannibal extraordinaire!"

What was this man?

Only one way to figure out.

"Uh...Jack?"

He looked up toward you. "Yes?" His voice sounded calm, but that didn't give a whole lot away.

"I—uh, can you see?"

He was silent for an agonizing moment, and you sat dreading another assault until he answered you with a simple "No."

Be brave. "How do you know what you're looking for?"

Jack, again, responded simply. "I have other senses. I've managed to make do with what I have."

You stared at him, confused as to why he was being so truly decent toward you.

"Where am—where are we?" Maybe I'll be able to figure a bit more out, if he's in such a good mood.

Your celebratory thought was squished like an ant by the heavy boot of his answer.

"We are in my sick-bay in the basement of a house filled with ten or more murderers at any given moment who will not hesitate to kill you if you try to escape." He slowly marked his page and closed his book. He stood up and stalked toward you, slid his hand on your neck and placed it on your jaw, and turned your face away from his. You heard a rustle, felt his lips against your ear once more, and nearly whimpered in fear when you heard his raspy whisper-growl: "You're mine, angel, and I'm not planning on letting you go any time soon."

He didn't pull away from your ear when he was finished speaking. Instead, he let just the tip of his tongue trace down the shell of your ear down to your earlobe, where he stopped and bit down just hard enough to draw blood. You tried to jerk away from him, but his grip around your jaw held strong and forced you to sit still. He let a drop of blood slowly trickle down your neck before he licked it off of you, following its path back up to your earlobe.

"You looked so good when I first saw you, doll, I just had to eat you up. And then, when I killed that lady cop in her car? I could still smell you on her. It had been hours, angel, don't you know what that means?"

There were fresh tears rolling down your cheeks now. His hand that was free came up and wiped them gently off of your face before he brought his fingers to his mouth.

"It means that you smell delicious. And that you're going to taste even better."

You only cried more at those words. He was shredding your hope of escape bit by bit, leaving only the immense fear of what was to come. He had called you a pet before, when he had hit you so many times.

What did he mean?

How long would 'being his pet' last before he decided to get rid of me?

How would he treat me, even if I did behave?

Those thoughts were the only ones floating around in your head as Jack continued to nuzzle at your hair and the skin near your pulse. You were shaking with the effort it took not to sob, and your face contorted more and more with every second that passed.

"Let it out, angel, even your tears are heavenly."

And with that, you crumbled. You were strapped to a wall by your wrists, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some sleep shorts, and you had a monster licking the tears right off of your cheeks.

Was there any point to looking strong anymore?