FIREFLIES - Eyeless Jack X Reader

Chapter 7 - Exploration

I've noticed that since I'm not restrained to the bed anymore, I've been standing whenever possible. I'll idle around the room, walking from one wall to the other while reading a book or two. I'll stand and shift my weight from one leg to the other, just feeling the pleasure of using my limbs properly.

But one thing I haven't done is go out of the room. The chain is certainly long enough to make it out the door Eyeless Jack is constantly coming and going from. And curiosity is sinking its claws into me again.

But that's for later.

For now I've gotta do reconnaissance. I know there are dangerous and unfriendly -uh- things...in the woods outside. So, I'm not exactly eager to go running around out there.

I walk over to the window, carefully minding the broken glass speckling the floor. I silently thank my masked captor for leaving me with my shoes, even if I still don't have any socks to go with them.

I rest my hands against the wooden frame sealing the window pane to the foundation. I peer out through the opening in the glass that had been made by an unknown force.

The ground just outside is covered in tall grass, now dying and shifting to a more somber hue of brown and pale yellow-green. The trees aren't much better. Even from here I can see that the trunks are rotted inside, while the branches are barely hanging onto the body of lumber forming the plant. There are thousands of fallen amber leaves, but not a single one left on the barren, charcoal-stained branches.

I let my eyes wander until I caught one area where the plant life is in much more disarray than the others. Enormous slashes in groups of four spiral across the thick and sturdy trees. Dried blood coating the ground and trunks in dark splotches, looking more like a thick syrup than blood.

Was that where Eyeless Jack had fought whatever that thing was? The one I wasn't allowed to look at? That's a lot of damage for a scrimmage that lasted such a short amount of time. Lord, that looks awful. How had he come out without so much as a scratch on him?

Maybe he's less human than I thought. It seems like only a monster can fight a monster so easily.

I pull myself away from my precarious position of sticking my head through a hole of glass. There didn't seem to be anything dangerous outside, and from what I've seen, I'm in a bigger building than I was expecting. I thought I was hidden away in the ground level of some old bunker, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Looks more like an office building or a school than some survival hut.

I walk over to the door, my footsteps tentative and cautious. My fingers reach out to the copper door knob, my nails chipped and picked to a nub as a result of my boredom. My small appendages dance over the metal, making me recoil at the sudden sensation of warm skin clasping a sturdy chunk of icy copper.

Fear sinks into me as I hesitantly twist the door knob, hearing the mechanism inside turning over.

The door was made of metal. Oddly enough it seemed that the door, along with the hinges, were new when compared to the rest of the room. The walls were dingy and the color had clearly faded a long time ago. The floors had been made of a hard and unforgiving concrete slab with nothing else to cushion the roaming footsteps. Even on the window, the metal pieces had clearly been rusted for some time.

The door however, was clean, without so much as a stain or hint of rust. The hinges were glossy and still held a reflection whenever light refracted off the burning metal hue. It felt like they had been replaced in order to more effectively keep something in. Or maybe to keep something else out.

Who would go to so much effort to put in a door like this? Especially for a room that already had a broken window? What's the point?

The door was much heavier than I had been expecting. It took quite a lot of effort just to make a small crack in the opening. I had previously watched Eyeless Jack effortlessly open this door with one hand, even while balancing food and other delicate objects cradled in the other. And he never struggled! So, having seen that, I thought it was just going to be another average door! Boy, was I wrong.

And boy, did I underestimate him.

I suddenly felt a tinge of regret towards my previous actions. If he wanted me dead, he would have easily made that happen by now. At the very least, this proves he was telling the truth about not wanting to keep me here, and not wanting to hurt me. This act of kidnapping was made out of desperation, it would seem.

Still not an excuse, though.

After an absurd amount of time spent wrestling with the door, I finally had it open wide enough to fit my body through.

I poked my head out from behind the metal making up the door frame, so that I may safely survey my surroundings. All I could see was a long hallway. Trash littered the floor while graffiti plastered the walls, coating them like a cheap art project. The floors were made of the same concrete as my room, but a little farther down towards the end of the hall I can see hardwood flooring, half ripped apart and singed from fire.

These details proved to match the abandoned building aesthetic better than my room did. And yet, they only filled me with more questions. Why is there wood at the end of the hallway? If part of the building was caught on fire, why weren't there burn marks or ashes everywhere? It looks more pristine the farther down you go, so what's up? Why is it that there's always some new mystery?

Speaking of my room, it was very obviously the last room at the end of the hallway. I turned my head in order to see if I was correct. My eyes met a wall, just like the others.

I stepped out -well more like shuffled- from my dormant hiding place where I stood curled up behind the wall.

I took one or two steps more, now standing entirely out in the open. The chain hooked to my ankle dragged heavily, making a harsh squealing sound while the metal scraped against concrete. The sound echoed off the walls, bouncing from one structure piece to another until it cascaded through the foundation. The sound made my teeth hurt.

I stood motionless, ready to dart back into my room if need be. My head swiveled and searched for any unseen enemies, like a prairie dog on alert for predators. But nothing came.

I felt my chest loosen, relief calming my overactive senses.

"It's empty. Nothing's here." I remind myself, repeating the mantra over and over under my breath. I shuffled out into the hall a little more, my skin prickling from the cold air blowing through the long, narrow path. There must be some open window out there too, to explain how easily the air is moving around here.

My head is on a swivel, despite there being absolutely nothing of note out here. I walked as far as I could, until my chain was catching and I had no more room left to go. The hall was very dark down at the end, and the chain left me right on the cusp of the shadows. I could barely even make out what three feet in front of me.

I can't even tell how far this hall goes. I've already walked a good distance from my room, yet it feels like it could keep going on forever.

Suddenly, an overwhelming smell hit me, nearly making me double over to vomit on the floor. The strong smell of chemicals assaults my senses, causing my vision to blur and my nose to burn. In a panic I slapped a hand over my face to keep from gagging, the overwhelming scent of bleach made tears stream down my face as my body did its best to reject the fumes.

I stumbled backwards to distance myself from the overwhelming force as much as possible. It smells twice as strong as the industrial kind of bleach you'd find in a factory, I think. I've never actually smelled the stuff but my dad sure talked about it a lot.

Honestly, it's a miracle my asthma wasn't triggered right then and there. The conditions were good enough, that's for sure.