Warnings: Artistic Gore, Torture, Blood, Organ Consumption, and Cult Sacrifice.
Gasping, Jack came to full awareness. The first thing he sees is trees, illuminated by a warm and flickering glow. Turning his head to the side with a groan, Jack tries to move his arms, to press his hand to his head in hopes to soothe the stinging pain there. He can't, he realizes, because his arms are strapped down, so are his legs, with leather straps taught against the fabric of his hoodie, cutting into his skin, even with the barrier of fabric. The second thing he sees, after his eyes adjust almost fully, is a group of people, standing around him. Each of them have a navy blue mask adorning their faces, void of any features besides the cutouts for eyes. There were torches lining the edges of this small clearing in the woods, illuminating the whole space.
Panic immediately begins to set in as Jack remembers, cruelly, that this is all Jenny's doing. Jenny, who Jack thought was his friend. Jenny, who leant Jack her notes, and got drunk with him, and talked shit about one of their teachers with him. Jenny, who hit him over the back of his head, brought him to the middle of the forest, and strapped him down to a metal table. Jack shivers, despite the fact he had his hoodie on, he felt a certain coldness overtake him. The crowd of people in masks were silent, and still, as if they were hovering in a moment Jack wasn't invited into. He began pulling at the straps, finally getting over his shock, being slammed full force with panic and fear. The silence was like a buzz in the air, prickling through his head as he struggles to free himself, when, finally, someone from the crowd of people steps forward, lifting the mask off their face. Its Jenny.
All at once, Jack felt relief and then terror immediately once more. She's the one that brought him here, and he has the sick feeling she'll be the reason he won't leave alive. "Jenny," his voice comes out sounding weak, so he clears his throat before continuing, "please, untie me. Please." She ignores his words, coming to stand beside him, smiling gently at him. He flinches away as her cold hand comes up to trace his cheek gently, almost longingly, and she begins to speak. "You will be a lovely sacrifice," she starts off quiet, but gets louder as she turns from him, facing the crowd of people, "In the name of Lord Chernabog!" She exclaims, and the crowd immediately repeats her, sounding merry and joyful. He feels as if all his breath has been stolen from him, sacrifice..? He feels lightheaded, he's not sure if it's from the head wound, or her words, but he's sure its a mixture of the two. Jack begins to tug at the restraints once more. "Chernabog? Jenny, I don't-" He cuts himself off as she whirls around to face him again, a wickedly delighted smile spread across her face.
She grabs something off of a table that is out of sight for him, and when she approaches him again, he sees that its a medical scalpel, most likely one of the ones they had been using to practice precision cutting just the week before, and he thrashes at the sight of it, though the straps holding him don't loosen in the slightest. Her smile grows at the sight of him struggling, "Surget, epulabitur, proteget dum adoramus, in sacro nomine Chernabog!" She announces loudly, and the group behind her repeats her words once more. Jack can't decipher the words through his haze of panic, but he recognizes it as Latin. The group continues to repeat those same words, even as Jenny begins to speak again. "Domine Chernabog, hoc sacrificium ex humili nostra ingenio accipe. Benedic nobis abundantiam et sapientiam vicissim." Jenny says this a bit quieter, speaking normally, but with the authoritarian tone remaining still, and as she speaks, she moves the scalpel closer to his face. His eyes widen before he shuts them tightly, realizing that there is no possible way he can escape.
A sharp, excruciating pain bursts across his face as Jenny holds his eye open and begins to carve it out of his socket with the scalpel. His other eye is wide open now, watching her do this in horror. The pain is so sudden, so excruciating, he wonders how he is still conscious in the face of it. Distantly, he hears screaming over the chants of the people, echoing through the empty forest, and he realizes it's him screaming. Tears escape his other eye, blurring his vision as he begins to beg her to stop. She doesn't, and a moment later, she's holding his eyeball in front of his face to show him before she tosses it over her shoulder carelessly. Half blind and panting heavily from the continuous pain, he weakly attempts to pull out of the bindings once more. The ghastly feeling of various fluids, and pieces of his eye are on his cheek, spread across like a painting. He can't see it, but he can feel it, and somehow that's worse. He does lose consciousness when she begins on his other eye.
Jack isn't sure how long he's out for, but he wakes up to a scalding, white-hot pain that echoes from his eye sockets. He realizes he cannot see, and that something burning hot has been poured where Jenny carved his eyes out. He's screaming in agony, choking on sobs at the pain. He can still hear the damned people chanting in the latin, the words echoing in his aching head, taunting him. His entire body fills with warmth, a heat that is entirely too overbearing, as if it is burning him from the inside out. His skin is buzzing, and so is his head, with a sort of static, bordering on painful but not quite there. Then, its all quiet for a mere moment. The heat is gone, the static has disappeared, the people are quiet. Then- he hears it, screaming, but it's not him this time. He registers that he is no longer on the table, but instead on the ground. His hands are pressed into the leaves below, and his head spins at the sight of grey skin, and sharp, claws to accompany it.
Jack gasps, his hand shakily coming up to feel his face, and he grows dizzy at the lack of anything in his sockets, his finger going straight in. When he pulls his hand away, theres a black tar-like substance coating his fingers, and he figures it was leaking from where his eyes used to be. The most shocking thing to him is that he can see despite his apparent lack of eyes. He feels himself grow angry, and angrier yet. Looking up, he sees the crowd of people standing, silent, all watching him. In the front, Jenny stands, mouth open in obvious shock, and Jack feels grim satisfaction at the horror in her expression.
Something in him, something animalistic and sour and wrong, surfaces, and he feels himself half snarl-half grin before lunging, tackling the closest person and sinking his teeth in the side of their neck, ripping the skin out between his now sharp teeth. He hears more screaming, and the scampering of terrified people as they tried to run away and escape, but he's faster. One by one, he picks them off, killing them swiftly with his new amenities, until it was just Jenny remaining. She was shivering and trembling in fear, tears and snot mixing on her pale face. Jack hauls her up onto the table, slamming her against the surface roughly as she begins to scream and beg. The bindings were half torn, but he finds a way to strap her down anyways, knocking her head against the table in a way that clearly disorients her. Jack begins to look around for the scalpel, finding it discarded in the leaves. He approaches the table once more, gripping the scalpel tightly as he holds it to her tear stained face. He pauses for a moment, blade mere jnches from her eye. His gaze turns to her abdomen, tilting his head in confusion, and suddenly, he's hungry. Hungrier than he's ever been, and something smells good. He presses the scalpel to a point in her abdomen, cutting into her skin in one precise incision, then, he reaches his hand in, uncaring of the blood gushing or her cries of pain as he grabs her kidney, yanking it out in one swift pull. She let's out a shrill scream, but he pays her no mind as he bites into it, no longer hungry, but instead ravenous.
Jack thinks he should feel some emblem of disgust for what he's doing, but he's so hungry, he doesn't care. Dropping the scalpel to the table, he uses his newly formed claws to rip into the other side, obtaining her other kidney and devouring that too. His hands and face are covered in blood, but he just licks it off, the metallic taste making his mouth water. Sick of her screaming and cries, he grabs the scalpel again, cutting her throat with a swift movement before turning to the other bodies, quick to depart them of their kidneys too. Chunks of bloody flesh sit around him on the forest floor, copious amounts of blood and tar covering his hoodie and face, the sticky substance dripping from his sockets seemingly had no end, but he payed it no mind. Whilst in the middle of devouring another kidney, that staticky buzz came back, infiltrating his senses.
He immediately looks up, snarling, as he senses another presence, but falters at the sight of a tall, thin, creature. It had no face, and its skin was a pasty white. It seems to be examining him, quiet and still, and then it speaks, a distorted voice echoing harshly through his head. "Come."
Feeling the need to obey this creature, he stands, stepping toward it, over the bodies of the cult, his previous classmates, he realizes. On the way, he grabs the scalpel and Jenny's mask, both bloody, fixing the mask on his face and pocketing the scalpel. The creature puts a hand on his shoulder, its long, bony, fingers a contrast against his dark hoodie, made darker by the blood coating it. The feeling of static increases, painfully so, and then they're both gone, leaving behind the scene of gore.
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