Work Text:
Blood.
That sweet, metallic scent.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Dripping down the table, onto the cold kitchen floor; seeping through the crack of the wooden plank.
He stares at the bloody puddle on the ground for what feels like an eternity before moving to grab a rag to wipe the surface of the table clean.
Christ.
Christ.
There is so much blood. He felt his stomach rumble, his gloved fingers clenching around the neck of the bloody scalpel. What has he become? How did it get to this? How did he let it get to this?
He felt his breath hitch. The smell should disgust him. It should make him want to hurl. But it didn't. The aroma was oddly alluring. Inviting him to sink his teeth into it.
His vision, now dark and empty, could make somewhat of an outline to the delicious treat in front of him. The two, red and juicy treats, hidden beneath the mountain of organs.
He carefully feel around their large intestine, lifting it up with such tender care while his free hand feel around for the thing he looking for.
He held his breath when he found it.
Putting the large intestine out of the way, he adjusts his grip on his scalpel and carefully removes the tasty treat like he had done many times before.
He swallows hard when he successfully removes it. A shudder running up his spine. He put it in a jar he brought, the liquid inside making sure it won't dry up and go bad while he tends to the unconscious body.
Now, putting everything back together. He knows the process by heart, as disgusting as that is. He knows which piece belongs, like a jigsaw puzzle.
Stitching up the person, he cut off the tread after he's done. He did an extra loop to make sure that it really sticks.
He stood up and cleaner cleaner after himself after disinfecting the wound. Leaving the person to wake up to their own misery after he left through the window.
He felt the dry leaves crunch beneath his shoe, his foot digging into the wet soil when he landed.
It's fall. He likes fall. The nights are always the quietest during this time. It makes him almost free to roam the street. Almost.
His ear twitches at the slightest sounds of the wind. He paused, quickly dodging behind the tree. His guard is up high. He couldn't see anything, so he got used to his other senses.
Where is it? What was it?
His posture was tense, his ears sharp. There.
In a blink, he grabbed whatever it was by their shirt collar. Slamming them into the trunk of the tree. His scalpel was out in an instant, his lips pulling into a scowl under his mask.
Whatever it was, let out a surprise grunt, it's nails digging into his wrist. It felt too sharp to be human nails. It's as sharp as dagger.
He pressed his scalpel harder into what he could assume was their throat, feeling their Adams apple bobbing against it.
Then to his surprise, the fucker let out a hoarse cackled. He pause. What's so funny?
He tilt his head in question.
Whoever it was seem to try (and failed) to compose themselves. He could still feel their shoulder shaking from effort.
"What?" He finally ask, his tone short and annoyed. "Pfft, sorry!" The person snickered, their grip on Jack's wrist never faltered however. If anything it tightens. "It's just-" they wheeze. "Ca- caught me off guard, bwaha!"
Ah. That guy. What was his name.. Kagekao, was it? His presence is always so loud, so persistent.
Jack scoff, pressing the sharp edge of the knife harder against their throat. "Shut up." He hiss. "You're too loud." "You're too quiet," they retort. When Jack didn't seem to relent his iron grip, Kagekao let out an exasperate sigh. "Ugh fine, I'll shut up just let me go." They said, releasing Jacks wrist.
Jack hesitate before finally reluctantly pull away, his posture still tense and rigged.
Kagekao rolled his stiff neck, letting out a small groan. "Sorry." Jack mumbled, adjusting his mask that seems to tilt due to the commotion. He tilt his head to the side, trying to discreetly make out the scent of the stranger in front of him. They don't smell human. Humanoid, sure but not one. He seems to catch on what Jack was trying to do, he could practically already imagine the smug grin that was forming on their face. If they even have one.
"Aww, what's with ya?" They ask with such an irritable smug tone. It makes Jack's skin crawl. But there's something else under all that annoying facade. Something.. Bad. Intriguing.
"Nothing." Jack replied, feeling his throat went dry all of the sudden. He felt uncomfortable. He don't know why.
Pushing himself away from Kagekao, he turn around and was about to walk away when the shorter male grasp his wrist.
"Wait," he said. And despite himself, Jack felt himself listening. He draw in a quiet breath. "Yes?"
A silent beat passed.
"You.." Kagekao chews on his lower lips. Feeling unusually awkward and hopeful. "You're not.. One of them, are you?"
Jack tilt his head subtly in question. "Who?" He quietly wished it wasn't what he hoped the question implied. He still felt iffy about it no matter how many years past.
"You know, them?" Kagekao almost spat out as if disgusted. Jack honestly couldn't blame him. "No," unfortunately, "I'm not."