It was a dark night, clouds covered the normally starry sky and the streets were nearly empty. Of course that wasn't a surprise, considering it was a Sunday night, most people would be in bed at this time, sleeping or getting ready for their 9-5 the next day.

However you couldn't sleep, you were restless and had decided to go out for a short walk. You had hoped the walk would tire you out, but the further you went, the more conscious you were.

You let out a huff, shoving your hands in your jumper pockets, why did you have to be this way? You were a night owl that always got too much energy when you should be sleeping. In fact you hardly slept, ever.

Once your parents had tried to get you to take meds, but they proved insufficient and they gave up not long after. So after getting sick of their bickering, you moved out and found your own place, plus two jobs to make sure you'd survive.

You even had a shift tomorrow, but again you couldn't sleep.

Although you weren't sure it would affect you anyway. It never seemed to, yet it always felt like it would.

A good old trick of the mind.

Not that it was good, or fun.

So you kept walking through the streets, the streetlights being your only source of vision. As you strolled through the neighbourhood, you heard what sounded like yelling coming from a nearby alleyway.

You knew better than to stick your nose into alleyways, so you kept walking. But you stopped when you heard the sound of a splat, and the screaming turned to gurgled choking, before there was a thud. Your blood turned to ice and you froze a few steps away from the dark area. Did you just hear someone die?

Where they murdered? It sounded like they were murdered.

Thankfully, you knew better to investigate, so shaking your head, you turned on your heal to leave. Only, a hand clasped around your arm, tugging you back. You yelped as you were pulled down the darkened alley.

"And what do you think you're doing miss?" The voice was deep, male.

You didn't even think, only turned and popped the possible murderer in the nose. He cried out and stumbled back, letting you go. You stared at him for a second, before taking off into the street. Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you ran, where should you go? Was he following you?

The sound of footsteps chasing you indicated that, yes, he was. What would he do if he caught you? Would he kill you too? Would he do more?

There was no way you were going to find out.

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing the much taller man in the light now. He had a scar down the left side of his face, and blood covered his lips. You must have broken his nose. But he also had blood on his clothes and hands, and a knife handle was sticking out of his belt.

The look of rage had encaged his face, and he started to gain on you.

You looked around, doing your best to stay calm. A plan hatched in your head, and you only hoped he wouldn't catch you too soon.

You turned down a street, seeing a large building with blue and white checkered flags out the front. The police station. You let out a deep breath as you ran, before belting down the street and towards the building. Either he would get cold feet and let you go, or you would lead him into a prison cell.

But the guy insisted on chasing, in fact he sounded as if he was on your heels. You didn't want to look back, but you couldn't control your head. That's when you tripped, causing the guy to trip over your body and stumble to the ground.

You let out a yelp as you hit the ground, holding your arm close to your chest.

-Don't curl up, don't curl up...-

It was hard, but you managed to fight the urge to fall asleep right there on the pavement. Using your good arm, you moved your now messy (h/c) hair from your eyes, before turning away from the groaning man and taking off in the other direction.

Hopefully you could lose him, maybe things would turn out okay. There was no way you would risk running past him to get to the station anyway, he could grab you and stab you there, in the open. That was a definite no no.

So you bolted off down the street, glancing back once to see if he was chasing you. He had stood, but only watched you from where he stood. You couldn't see much as you ran further, but you could have sworn there was a large smile on his face.

After an hour of running through streets and making sure the guy hadn't followed you, you finally returned home. For once, you were exhausted, so ready to sleep. Closing and locking the door, you walked to your room and flopped onto your mattress. Sleep edged at your vision, the darkness consuming you instantly.

~~~

It had only felt like a few moments, but you were ripped from your precious slumber by a hand clasping around your neck. You were jerked awake as you were lifted from your bed, before being thrown to the ground.

You let out a startled yelp as you collided with the cold, wooden floor, holding your shoulder as you glanced around the room. Who was there? It was dark and your eyes had yet to properly adjust. Your mind was groggy with sleep, and you weren't prepared for the hand that once again gripped you around the neck, lifting you up and into the wall.

"You thought you could get away..." The voice sounded familiar, and your eyes widened as you realised who it was.

The guy from the alleyway came into view, a large smile spread over his face, his hazel eyes gleaming with excitement.

"You thought I wouldn't find you, that I wouldn't kill you." He palmed the knife, holding it up to your neck, "But you were foolish..."

He chuckled as the edge of the knife pressed into your throat, and you let out a quiet whimper as it broke skin. Your warm blood started to trickle down your neck, and you wondered how much this was going to hurt.

But before the guy could slice your neck wide open, he froze. There was a ripping sound. His eyes widened and he stumbled back, letting you go. A dripping sound came next, before the guy fell to the floor. You also stumbled, leaning against the wall, too shaken to stand on your own.

You held your throat, ignoring the warmth of blood that started to coat your hand. What had happened to him? Why was he on the floor?

It was still to dark, but now that you were free you fumbled for the light switch, using your free hand to flip it on. What you saw before you nearly made you scream. The only reason you didn't was because a grey hand had covered your mouth.

The guy was laying on the floor, a pool of blood seeping out from under him, and there was a large whole to the left side of his chest, where his heart would be. It had been ripped out of him, you could see the shimmer of wet bones through the gaping hole.

Tears appeared in your eyes at the sight, and you closed your eyes, trying to pull away from the hand over your mouth. Whoever was in the room with you now was most definitely a murderer. And you were not ready to die.

"Stop moving." The voice said, it was low, smooth. Definitely masculine, "You'll lose more blood if you keep struggling."

You stopped, stifling a cry. What could you do? There was no way you could escape.

The grey hand caught your eyes, finally clicking in your mind. His skin was discoloured, very discoloured. Who was this guy?

Slowly, you turned your head, only to see a guy standing next to you. He wore a dark blue hoodie, tuffs of brown hair stuck out from under it and hung over another darker blue mask. There eye-holes were pitch black, and a black goo dripped from them. From what you could see, his neck was also the same grey tone has his hand.

The dripping returned to your ears and your eyes turned to his other hand. Which held a stilled heart.

You screamed and lurched back, pulling away from the stranger and onto your behind. You scooted away, into a wall as you stared at him, what was this guy? You couldn't see his eyes past his mask, and his skin was too grey to be alive.

He only sighed, before lifting the heart to his head. He grasped the end of the blue mask and lifted it slightly, showing a row of sharp, white teeth, before he bit into the blood-covered organ.

You gaped in horror, trying your best not to gag as you watched him eat the slimy ball that gave life, before pulling his mask back down and stalking over to you.

"P-Please don't... H-Hurt me..." You managed to say as he crouched in front of you.

"(Y/N), if I wanted to hurt you, I would have by now." He said, before lifting your chin slightly. You pulled back a little, his hand was cold.

"How do you know my name...?"

He let out a light chuckle, before shaking his head, "Your sixth sense is definitely not sensing people around you..."

"What does that mean...?"

He didn't reply, only shoving his hands into his pocket and standing, "We'll need to go downstairs for me to patch up that wound. Come on."

You were shocked, confused even, as the person, guy, whatever he was, left the room. How did he know to go downstairs? How did he know your name? Not sensing people around you?

A frown pulled at your lips and you jumped up, following him down the stairway,

"You've been stalking me."

"You're slow too." He stated, indicating that yes, you were right.

"Why have you been stalking me?" You pushed in front of him, standing in his way, "And who are you? Why are you here?"

The male stopped, tilting his masked face down to your own. You could feel his gaze through the mask, boring into your skin. Slowly, he leant down so you were face-to-face.

"If I answered any of those questions, you'd run screaming." His voice was low, as if in warning, "Now get out of my way and let me patch up that wound. You're getting blood everywhere."

You stepped back, to the side, as he pushed his way past you and walked into the kitchen. Rage started to stir in your stomach, how dare he talk to you like that in your own home. But then the sudden feeling of a wet shirt pressing against your stomach made you look down, it was stained in blood, mostly dried.

You bit your lip, holding your neck subconsciously as you hurried into the kitchen,

"Is it bad?" You asked, the rage disappearing and turning to cold fear, "The wound."

"You won't die." The man said, reaching up into one of your cupboards and grabbing some gauze, "If anything you'll start to get dizzy."

You gripped the counter, just in case.

It was frustrating really, watching this stranger go through your kitchen draws as if he knew where everything was, refusing to give you answers as to how he knew or who he was. And all you could do was depend on him.

"Could I get just one answer from you." You started, leaning more on the bench. The kitchen was starting to look funny.

"Fine." He huffed, satisfied with everything he had grabbed, he lead you to the dinning room table and sat you down, pulling his chair in front of you.

"What's your name?" You asked, flopping into the chair.

He was quiet for a bit, setting his stuff down and lifting your head again, you were sure he wasn't going to answer. Slowly, he dabbed something over your neck, making it sting painfully and you hissed, pulling away.

"Stay still." He said, before gently cupping your head and cleaning the wound. It was silent a moment more as he wrapped the cut in gauze.

Once he was done, he sat back. Blood covered both his hands, and you weren't sure if it was yours or the guy from earlier. The man looked at his hands as well, bringing them up to his face for a long moment, before jumping to his feet and heading for the back door.

"Wait." You grabbed onto his blue hoodie, tugging him back, "Your name."

He turned his black gaze back to you, gripping your wrist tightly. A warning to let go. You pouted and did so, dropping your hand to your side.

"It's Jack..." The male finally said, "Eyeless Jack..."

And as your eyes widened in realisation, he left.