ᴡᴏʀꜱʜɪᴘ ᴍᴇ (ᴇᴊ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

10: Accomplice

Jack opened the window as quietly as he could, though it still creaked from lack of use. Once open he peered into the dark house, into what looked to be the living room. The interior was plain, albeit a bit messy. Jack looked from side to side. No lights were on and there wasn't any side of Isaac. He had to be holed up in his room for the night by now.

Jack looked back at you a final time before climbing through the window with ease. Once inside, he held out a hand and motioned for you to follow. You swallowed thickly and hesitantly took his hand. The same hand that had been wrapped around your throat just days ago. Jack's hand squeezed yours as he pulled you through the window until both of your feet were safely planted on the wooden floor.

From where you stood you could see straight down the hallway that seemed to lead to Isaac's bedroom. To your right was the kitchen, and to your left extended to the front door. The hallway before you held three doors, two shut and one cracked. Through the crack, a pale blue light shined out, and if you listened carefully you could hear the quiet sound of a television show.

Jack crept forward, his boots only making the faintest noise. You followed his lead and did your best to move silently. The closer the two of you got to his bedroom the more your eyes adjusted to the darkness. The only sound you could hear anymore was your heart in your ears. Your stomach swirled with anxiety, and you kept your hands in fists with your nails sinking into your palms.

Once Jack stood just outside the door he turned to you and motioned for you to stay. You gulped. This was it. You were here, and Jack was going to kill Isaac. You didn't move, only watching as Jack slowly pushed open the door.

A sudden, "Hey...!" Made your heart skip a beat and in an instant Jack lunged forward, flinging the door open and swiping at Isaac whose bed was right across from where you stood.

Your eyes widened in horror but you couldn't bring yourself to move. Isaac sat shirtless in bed, only wearing a pair of shorts that did little to protect him from Jack's attack. Jack almost entirely blocked the view, but even still you could see blood gushing from his chest as he stabbed, and stabbed, until all you could hear was Isaac wheezing and the squelching of Jack's scalpel cutting into flesh.

Jack didn't stop until Isaac's struggles ceased. By then blood drenched the white sheets, pooling around his limp body and seeping into the mattress below. Jack stood over him, breathing heavily as he stared down at his work. With how many puncture wounds were on him, it looked like Jack had torn out chunks of his chest. Though Isaac now lay still, crimson continued to flow from the gashes, shining in the light of the moon outside.

After what felt like hours Jack took in a deep breath before looking back at you. Blood was splattered across his mask, looking almost black in the darkness. You couldn't look away. Your heart sounded like a drum and a lump had formed in your throat. You felt sick.

Jack took careful steps towards you. "Stay there." He gave no further explanation before shutting the door and leaving you in total darkness.

Your hands unclenched and finally you looked away from the room. Backing away, you leaned against the wall and drank in deep breaths. The smell of iron seemed to fill the hallway. It was suffocating and dense. Images of the massacre melded together with the scene you'd just witnessed. The screams, the useless attempts at fighting back, the sheer terror in everyone's eyes. The blood. You swallowed the bile in your throat.

He deserved it. He deserved it. He deserved it. With every breath you took in you repeated the same words in your head. Isaac didn't deserve to be mourned. Not after what he did. You pressed your fingers into your eyes. You wouldn't let yourself cry.