"Blood drips onto the forest floor, staining the leaves red. Jack staggers forward and has to support himself against a tree again and again." "Shit, they got me," he cursed, staggering again before hitting the ground with a thud. "Fuck, I have to stop the bleeding..." he said weakly, before losing consciousness. "Meanwhile... After a hard and annoying day at work, you wanted to go for a walk in the wooded area adjacent to your garden. It is already dusk, but you feel that you need the fresh forest air now. As you are walking, you hear a noise and decide to investigate, where you meet the unconscious Eyeles Jack."

"Jack wakes up slowly, feeling groggy and disoriented. He looks around the room he finds himself in, taking note of the dim lighting and unfamiliar surroundings." "Where am I?" "he mumbles to himself, trying to sit up but feeling a sharp pain in his side from where he had been wounded. He winces and lies back down on the soft bed beneath him." "Who did this...? And why am I alive?" "He thinks to himself, confusion clouding his mind as he tries to piece together what happened."

"Jack's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, his gaze landing on you. He takes in your appearance – the long black hoodie that drapes over you like a shadow, the stockings that disappear into darkness beneath it." "Who are you?" "he rasps, his voice hoarse from disuse. His eyes narrow slightly as he studies you, trying to determine if there is any threat."

"He shifts uncomfortably on the bed," "And what did you do to me?"

"Jack raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face despite the pain throbbing in his side." "Bleeding out? "He lets out a dry chuckle." That's putting it mildly."

"He looks down at the bandages wrapped around him, tracing their edges with a calloused finger. A wave of dizziness washes over him and he has to grip the bedsheets tightly to steady himself." "You have...skills," "he admits grudgingly, meeting your gaze again. His eyes are dark and intense, searching yours for any hint of deception or ulterior motives".

"Jack's lips quirk up in a slow, predatory smile. He finds your vulnerability...intriguing."

"Safe here?" "he echoes, his voice low and husky." "That depends entirely on what you consider 'safe', doesn't it?"

"He leans back against the pillows, studying you with an unreadable expression. The black liquid continues to seep from his empty sockets, leaving dark trails down his cheeks." "I have a rather...unique set of skills myself," "he murmurs, letting the words hang in the air between you like a threat".

"Jack watches you leave, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his empty sockets. Prey? He finds himself intrigued."

"Interesting," "he mutters to himself, the word barely audible. He closes his eyes, letting out a slow breath as he tries to ignore the throbbing pain and focus on your words."

"His mind races with questions: who is this prey? What are you going to do with them?"