Stare

A/N: Alright, this is my interpretation of Eyeless Jack (he's one of my favorite creepypasta monsters) Since there's not much known about him, I decided to create my own theory. It is coupled with the original knowledge of eyeless Jack, that of my own, and maybe even some of yours. This also contains my head cannon too; sign language. My theory that those who Jack seeks to communicate with, witness him doing sign language. It's sort of strange, I know, but aren't all creepypastas? Also, a note on the description of Jack's outfit, I know it's supposed to be different colors, but that's just how i imagined it, ok. So please, don't start bugging me with, "Oh, that's not the right colors for his mask, or jacket." Other than that, please sit back, and enjoy the creepypasta. ALL OWNER SHIP OF EYELESS JACK GOES TO WHOEVER THOUGHT OF HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE. I OWN NOTHING BUT THE WRITING. JACK DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. ALSO, THIS IS JUST A THEORY, COMBINING WHAT I KNOW ABOUT ABOUT JACK, AND WHAT I THINK ABOUT HIM. ENJOY. (ps. the character is not me, she is just used to narrate the story, if that had really been be, i would have tackled him in a large hug.)

He just stares. For three days in a row, he's just stood there, staring at me. It startled me at first, seeing him outside on the porch, just standing there in the middle of the night. I had run to get my mother, waking her from her peaceful slumber and dragging her into the kitchen so that she could take a look.
"Look, there he is, he's just –" I turned my head to the direction where he had been standing, but to my disbelief, he was gone. I heard my mother sigh and then softly chuckle behind me, placing her hand on my shoulder.
"You were probably just seeing things, now go back to bed." She walked away before I could say anything more.
"But – he was – I just – why would – I…I saw him…" I stuttered, still pretty shocked. I shrugged it off moments later, thinking that my mother had been right, that maybe my imagination had been playing tricks on me.
The following night, I saw him again. This time, I lightly gasped and took two steps back. He did the same.
"Oh…it's you again." He didn't seem like much of a threat, after all, we were separated by a glass barrier, so unless he broke through it, he wouldn't be able to hurt me. Instead of waking my mom up again, I took the opportunity to study him – or it – more closely. He wore a dark blue jacket, the hood covering his hair, though a few strands hung down to cover his forehead. He had a light blue mask on with only black eyes. There was a thick black substance gushing from them, that was the only thing unnerving me.
"Um…hello there." I waved, and he copied. I tilted my head to one side, then the other, he followed. I realized he was mimicking me.
I lifted my leg, he lifted his leg, I raised my arms, he raised his arms, I balanced on one foot, he balanced on one foot. I found it pretty comical, but after a while, I started getting pretty tired of it, so I just stood still. He again did the same. I decided to ask him something.
"C-Can you understand me?" he nodded.
I cleared my throat, "Why are you here?" he just stood still.
"Can you speak?" he didn't move an inch.
"I'll take that as a no…is there any way you might be able to communicate?" He nodded again, and made some hand movements.
I realized he was doing sign language. I had studied it in school, so I was able to decipher some of it. I wasn't a pro though.
"OK, sign language, so again, why are you here?"
He stood motionless for a moment before answering, 'To feed'.
My blood turned cold for a moment, but I managed to respond, "T-To feed on what exactly?"
'Anything alive.'
I gulped, "Anything?"
He nodded.
That day, I learned what he was here for, but I still wondered why he hadn't eaten anything yet. Maybe because of the barrier? Whatever it was, I was just glad I was still alive at that point.
The next night arrived soon enough, and of course I was awake. But apparently he wasn't.
I shrugged, about to go back upstairs to my bedroom when all of the sudden, I heard an animistic screech, emanating from outside. My eyes widened, and I rushed back down the steps, nearly crashing into the barrier.
He was there. But, in his left hand, he held a dead, bloody, and mangled cat, clamping down on its neck with such force that it snapped in half with a sickening crunch. I gasped and covered my mouth, he didn't copy me this time.
Instead, he dropped the cat, and knelt down. He lifted his mask up slightly, only enough to expose his mouth. He dug his sharp razor-like teeth into the mammal's side, creating a gash. Blood and organs alike spilled out, and he began to eat. At first, he only ate the organs, taking them out one by one, eating them, counting them with his fingers in one hand, and grabbing them with the other.
I felt vile rise up in my throat, but I forced it back down. I just watched him devour the small dead animal, creating more wounds and dents by the second. An inhuman tongue slid from his mouth to lick his lips for the remainder of the blood. It looked like a snake tongue.
When he was about finished, he pulled a thread and needle from his pocket, and began to sew together the remains of the cat, almost frantically. He turned to face me as he got up, tossing the carcass at my window. Without thinking twice, he placed his hands in his jacket pockets and just stared, expecting me to do something. Anything.
Now absolutely terrified of the presence in front of me, I decided not to argue, but I just didn't know what to do. How was I supposed to respond?
With a million thoughts racing through my mind at once, I reached out for the handle of the glass door, clutching it in my hand. I pulled, and it opened. I expected him to attack me, and to kill me, with the same fatal grip he had used with the cat, but he did nothing. He just stood there, waiting. I leaned down to inspect what was left of the creature he had killed. I lifted it up, it was like holding an empty hollow sack. Its light and fragile bones were the only thing left besides the skin and bones.
My eyes began to burn, and I knew I was going to cry. As my bottom lip quivered, I spoke my final words to…to that thing…that monster.
"…Get out of here." It came out as a mere whisper, although I meant for it to be a growl.
He said nothing, yet he obeyed nonetheless. Because as soon as I looked up, he was gone.
Tonight, he didn't come back. I'm not sure if I'm glad or not. I was actually getting used to his company. I know he's still there, hiding deep in the forest, still feeding off of the living creatures in the woods. And I know that he'll come back again one day, to stand outside on my porch, and just stare…