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Description
Eyeless Jack x Fem!Blind!Reader

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You liked to sit outside when the nights were cool and crisp, the smell of Autumn evident in the air as you wrapped your fingers tighter around your warm mug, sipping at the contents while Auden lay at your feet. The windchimes you had hung up with the help of your brother clinked softly as a cool wind swept through the trees, making their branches rub together to form a native song. Pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders, you set your cup back down on the side table and stood up, Auden lifting his head at the sudden movement. Seeing you were trying to get somewhere, he stood up and stretched, coming over to your side so you could lay your hand on his head.

It’s how he would guide you around places.

You smiled and scratched the spot between his ears, grabbing your cup again before heading inside. Shutting the door behind you, you made sure it was locked before you took two steps to the right and set your mug down on the countertop. You felt around the surface for your box of cigarettes you usually kept close to the door. Your brother always joked that, along with your failed eyesight, you’d have lung cancer. You never did get the joke. Not finding them anywhere on the countertop, where you could’ve sworn you left them, you sighed and made your way into the living room. Knowing your way around, you made it to the table and knelt down to feel the surface without so much as a stubbed toe. “What..” You mumbled. Weren’t there either. You exited the living room to head down the hall to your bedroom, but you halted mid-step when a creak sounded in the floor boards.

“Auden.” You called for your guide dog. You waited for a minute for his response, but there was none. The small, barely noticeable intake of a breath made you turn around and run back into your living room. Whoever was in your house chased after you, eventually tackling you to the floor. You screamed, kicking and punching in protest as they sat on top of you. “Quit moving.” The surprisingly deep voice growled, a hand connecting with your cheek. You froze, anger shooting through you like an arrow. How dare this man come in your home, possibly kill your best friend then order you to behave? “Now you’ve done it.” You snarled, bucking the male off of you.

From the thud of where he landed, you quickly calculated that he must be by the table. You kicked at the space, hoping that you hit something. You mentally cheered when your foot connected with his stomach. He let out a gasp, something clattering to the floor. From the metallic ring, it sounded like a small knife.

Quickly, you ran down the hall and into your bedroom, slamming the door closed and locking it before shoving your dresser in front of it. You ran to your nightstand, where you kept your cellphone, and tried to call 911. But with your shaking hands and panicked moving, you didn’t dial the right numbers. Usually you were good with using a cell phone, but you were quickly growing frustrated as you kept calling and getting anything but an operator.

You threw your phone back into the drawer and grabbed the receiver of a rotary phone you had specifically for this purpose. You quickly rotated the wheel three times, pressing the phone to your ear. You let out a squeal when your attacker threw himself against the door, obviously knowing it was locked. The dial tone cut short as an operator picked up. “911, what’s your emer-” “Help! There’s someone in my house, he’s trying to kill me!” There was a moment of silence before the operator grew serious. “Can you describe your attacker?” He asked. “All I know is he’s male, sir. I’m blind, so I couldn’t tell you what he looked like. He has a small knife, and he killed my guide dog and is trying to kill me. Please, please send a squad car.” You sobbed, the banging on the door increasing in ferocity. You could hear the dresser scrape the floor to hell as it was nudged by the force of the ramming.

“Alright, what’s your location?” The operator asked in a calm voice. “It’s-” You stopped speaking when you realized it had grown silent. “Ma’am?” The operator asked. Your panicked breathing met his ears as you listened for your attacker. The tensity of the air nearly suffocated you, but you somehow managed to keep breathing as you waited, the operator repeating himself on the other end. You screamed when the window shattered and a body tumbled inside. The phone was ripped out of your hand and slammed back down on the table, the man pushing you onto your bed and climbing on top of you. Your mind quickly jumped to the worst case scenario.

This man was going to rape you.

“Please!” You screamed, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to get out from underneath him. “Please don’t kill me!” He took both your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head, the cold metal of the knife you heard earlier pressed against your neck. “Shh, shh, shh.” You swallowed hard and let out a quiet sob, the knife pressing deeper into your skin. Since it hadn’t cut, you assumed this man was trying to scare you into submission by pressing the flat end against your neck. “They won’t help you.” The demonic voice sounded from beside your ear. Your breathing quickened as you could feel his face near your head, his hand that was at your throat trading to run through your hair. You whimpered as he caught a piece between his fingers and lowered his head to sniff it.

“My, my, my, are you such a lovely catch. I have to admit, you were very hard to obtain, but it’s worth it.” His hand dropped your hair and retreated. You almost let out a sigh of relief when you felt your pants zipper being pulled down. You screamed again and twisted, your attacker and about-to-be-rapist letting go of your wrists to try and force you back to your original position. You took this moment to slide your legs from under him and place them on his chest. You pushed with all your might, his form flying off you and into a wall. You heard him grunt as he slid to the floor. You scrambled off the bed and neared him, landing a kick to his family jewels. He cried out and clutched his privates, gritting his sharp teeth as waves of pain crashed through him. You bumped into and pushed the dresser out of the way to unlock the door, flinging it open to run out of your room and back towards the living room.

Being paranoid and without Auden, you ran into furniture and walls, a few framed decorative photos falling and crashing to the floor; the glass from the frames scattering across the hardwood, your bare feet getting cut up as you ran. You didn’t care, just kept moving. Where was the shotgun? You dropped behind the couch and felt around underneath the piece of furniture. Yes! You slid the beloved 20 gauge from underneath the couch and the box of shells next to it. You quickly pulled a few rounds from the container and felt them, noting where the bottom was so you could shove it into the chamber. You quickly loaded the gun and had just cocked it when you heard your attacker’s angered stomps sound from the hallway, the glass crunching under his boots. You slowed your breathing, albeit it wasn’t easy, and listened for him.

The boards creaked as he snuck around, a dumb thing to do since a blind person’s senses were heightened. You held your breath as his footsteps stopped inside the kitchen. You could hear rustling, like fabric being removed. Your pale [e/c] eyes widened as you realized he had removed his shoes and socks. He was virtually undetectable. ‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck.’ Your brain was going into hyperdrive. You couldn’t tell where he was or where he was going, he was as silent as Death himself.

And you were at his utter mercy.

You felt a hand wrap around your ankle, and you let out a yelp as he drug you out from behind the couch. He tore the shotgun from your grip and threw it across the room. You shouted when it went off, the bullets flying everywhere. Not having felt a thing, you guessed they had embedded themselves in the walls. His weight on your stomach increased as he let his full mass rest on top of you. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or I’ll have to kill you before we make it to the hard way.” He stated, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head again. “No! No, no, no!” You screamed, twisting and turning and struggling to be free.

White hot pain shot through the right side of your face, snaking up to kiss your skull. The skin of your cheek prickled, and you were speechless at the fact that he had punched you. “That seems to be the only way to calm you down.” He murmured, leaning down towards your face. His warm breath washed over your cheek, the smell of blood and flesh flooding your nostrils. ‘My god,’ You thought. ‘I’m going to be raped and silenced by a fucking cannibal.’ If you could somehow get to the shotgun, you’d be able to injure him long enough for him to stay down when the cops get here. Why the hell did you pick a house in the middle of the country without a neighbor surrounding you for miles? Why didn’t you just move in when your brother offered?

You let out a squeal as he drove the knife into your side, the blade piercing the skin and severing an intestine. You bit back a groan as the blood left your body. “You smell so delicious.” He sighed, nails scraping against the floor as he drug his fingers through the pool of your blood and brought them up to his lips, his tongue eagerly lapping up the crimson liquid. “You taste amazing.” His grip on you slackened as he dipped his fingers in the pool again and tasted your blood. “Usually men say that to me in bed.” You snarled, freeing a hand to swing forcefully into his jaw. He let out a cry of pain as he let you go and fell back. You punched where you hoped his genitals were, the loud scream of his bringing proof that you had guessed right. Quickly, quickly, ever so fast you ran to where the shot gun landed, cocking it again to get rid of the empty round, the chamber sliding shut with a new round inside.

“Ah.” He hissed, rolling over on his stomach. Jack had never met someone who tried to fight as much as you did. He had met others who had tried, but they quickly failed when he sunk his teeth into their throat. You, however, turned him on when you fought back.“Stay down or I swear to god that I will shoot!” You shouted, hopefully aiming at him. Jack glared at the barrel of your shotgun, the end not even pointing at him but in his general direction at least. Even if it wasn’t and you pulled the trigger, the bullets would spread and still injure him severely at such a close rate. “Alright. I’ll stay down.” He groaned and dropped his head onto the floor, not even caring if it was going to bruise later. Fucking hell did you punch hard.

“Good, now stay here while I finish my call with the police. If you so much as move, I’ll know and shoot your ass.” You warned, backing down the hallway, wincing when small shards dug themselves into the gouges on your feet. “I wonder what else you could do with that mouth other than swear like a sailor.” Jack commented, still clutching his pride and joy. For a blind woman, you seemed to be an expert at retaliation. Not once had you submitted to him, as much as he would’ve enjoyed it, and not once had you stopped trying to fight. Even though you were supposed to be his next meal, he had to admire your courage. Grunting, he sat up from his position on the floor, grabbing his scalpel and shoving it into his hoodie pocket. He drug himself into the kitchen, grabbing his socks to stuff inside his shoes.

Glancing down the hall to make sure you weren’t exiting your room any time soon, he grabbed his sock-stuffed-shoes and quickly stood up, dashing for the back door. The sound of sirens could be hear a little down the road, and he cursed as he unlocked the back door with his hoodie and ran out into the night. You heard the back door slam shut and swore, hanging the phone up to blindly (pun intended) follow him. You got as far as fifteen feet before the cut in your side pulsed with pain and you dropped to the grass. Something cold and wet nudged against you, and you exclaimed in surprised when Auden’s familiar wet-dog smell reached your nostrils. “I locked you outside, oh my god.” You breathed, nuzzling your dog as he yipped.

“Why didn’t you make any noise? Why didn’t you scratch at the door?” You chided, still carding your fingers through his elegant fur. When you pulled your hand away, you could feel a few shedded strands on your fingers. “Ew.” You mumbled. “Police!” You heard the faint yell of an officer. “Out here!” You shouted. The backdoor flew open and out came at least 6 police officers. “Are you the one who called?” One asked, putting his gun back in its holster as he knelt beside you and checked your wound. “We’ve got an injured persons, I’mma need an ambulance.” He said into his walkie talkie, pressing a hand to the wound that was pumping blood. “Yeah, I called. He took off. To the woods, I’m guessing.” The adrenaline from the fight had started to drain, and you could feel the rivulets of red leaving your body. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body was empty of energy. So tired.

“I need four of you to search the woods,” Some officers nodded while heading towards the treeline. “The rest of us will stay inside in case he comes back and for your window to be fixed.” You thanked the officer as a paramedic lifted you onto a stretcher, whisking you off to a waiting ambulance.

Description
Eyeless Jack x Fem!Blind!Reader

---------------------------------------------

You liked to sit outside when the nights were cool and crisp, the smell of Autumn evident in the air as you wrapped your fingers tighter around your warm mug, sipping at the contents while Auden lay at your feet. The windchimes you had hung up with the help of your brother clinked softly as a cool wind swept through the trees, making their branches rub together to form a native song. Pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders, you set your cup back down on the side table and stood up, Auden lifting his head at the sudden movement. Seeing you were trying to get somewhere, he stood up and stretched, coming over to your side so you could lay your hand on his head.

It’s how he would guide you around places.

You smiled and scratched the spot between his ears, grabbing your cup again before heading inside. Shutting the door behind you, you made sure it was locked before you took two steps to the right and set your mug down on the countertop. You felt around the surface for your box of cigarettes you usually kept close to the door. Your brother always joked that, along with your failed eyesight, you’d have lung cancer. You never did get the joke. Not finding them anywhere on the countertop, where you could’ve sworn you left them, you sighed and made your way into the living room. Knowing your way around, you made it to the table and knelt down to feel the surface without so much as a stubbed toe. “What..” You mumbled. Weren’t there either. You exited the living room to head down the hall to your bedroom, but you halted mid-step when a creak sounded in the floor boards.

“Auden.” You called for your guide dog. You waited for a minute for his response, but there was none. The small, barely noticeable intake of a breath made you turn around and run back into your living room. Whoever was in your house chased after you, eventually tackling you to the floor. You screamed, kicking and punching in protest as they sat on top of you. “Quit moving.” The surprisingly deep voice growled, a hand connecting with your cheek. You froze, anger shooting through you like an arrow. How dare this man come in your home, possibly kill your best friend then order you to behave? “Now you’ve done it.” You snarled, bucking the male off of you.

From the thud of where he landed, you quickly calculated that he must be by the table. You kicked at the space, hoping that you hit something. You mentally cheered when your foot connected with his stomach. He let out a gasp, something clattering to the floor. From the metallic ring, it sounded like a small knife.

Quickly, you ran down the hall and into your bedroom, slamming the door closed and locking it before shoving your dresser in front of it. You ran to your nightstand, where you kept your cellphone, and tried to call 911. But with your shaking hands and panicked moving, you didn’t dial the right numbers. Usually you were good with using a cell phone, but you were quickly growing frustrated as you kept calling and getting anything but an operator.

You threw your phone back into the drawer and grabbed the receiver of a rotary phone you had specifically for this purpose. You quickly rotated the wheel three times, pressing the phone to your ear. You let out a squeal when your attacker threw himself against the door, obviously knowing it was locked. The dial tone cut short as an operator picked up. “911, what’s your emer-” “Help! There’s someone in my house, he’s trying to kill me!” There was a moment of silence before the operator grew serious. “Can you describe your attacker?” He asked. “All I know is he’s male, sir. I’m blind, so I couldn’t tell you what he looked like. He has a small knife, and he killed my guide dog and is trying to kill me. Please, please send a squad car.” You sobbed, the banging on the door increasing in ferocity. You could hear the dresser scrape the floor to hell as it was nudged by the force of the ramming.

“Alright, what’s your location?” The operator asked in a calm voice. “It’s-” You stopped speaking when you realized it had grown silent. “Ma’am?” The operator asked. Your panicked breathing met his ears as you listened for your attacker. The tensity of the air nearly suffocated you, but you somehow managed to keep breathing as you waited, the operator repeating himself on the other end. You screamed when the window shattered and a body tumbled inside. The phone was ripped out of your hand and slammed back down on the table, the man pushing you onto your bed and climbing on top of you. Your mind quickly jumped to the worst case scenario.

This man was going to rape you.

“Please!” You screamed, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to get out from underneath him. “Please don’t kill me!” He took both your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head, the cold metal of the knife you heard earlier pressed against your neck. “Shh, shh, shh.” You swallowed hard and let out a quiet sob, the knife pressing deeper into your skin. Since it hadn’t cut, you assumed this man was trying to scare you into submission by pressing the flat end against your neck. “They won’t help you.” The demonic voice sounded from beside your ear. Your breathing quickened as you could feel his face near your head, his hand that was at your throat trading to run through your hair. You whimpered as he caught a piece between his fingers and lowered his head to sniff it.

“My, my, my, are you such a lovely catch. I have to admit, you were very hard to obtain, but it’s worth it.” His hand dropped your hair and retreated. You almost let out a sigh of relief when you felt your pants zipper being pulled down. You screamed again and twisted, your attacker and about-to-be-rapist letting go of your wrists to try and force you back to your original position. You took this moment to slide your legs from under him and place them on his chest. You pushed with all your might, his form flying off you and into a wall. You heard him grunt as he slid to the floor. You scrambled off the bed and neared him, landing a kick to his family jewels. He cried out and clutched his privates, gritting his sharp teeth as waves of pain crashed through him. You bumped into and pushed the dresser out of the way to unlock the door, flinging it open to run out of your room and back towards the living room.

Being paranoid and without Auden, you ran into furniture and walls, a few framed decorative photos falling and crashing to the floor; the glass from the frames scattering across the hardwood, your bare feet getting cut up as you ran. You didn’t care, just kept moving. Where was the shotgun? You dropped behind the couch and felt around underneath the piece of furniture. Yes! You slid the beloved 20 gauge from underneath the couch and the box of shells next to it. You quickly pulled a few rounds from the container and felt them, noting where the bottom was so you could shove it into the chamber. You quickly loaded the gun and had just cocked it when you heard your attacker’s angered stomps sound from the hallway, the glass crunching under his boots. You slowed your breathing, albeit it wasn’t easy, and listened for him.

The boards creaked as he snuck around, a dumb thing to do since a blind person’s senses were heightened. You held your breath as his footsteps stopped inside the kitchen. You could hear rustling, like fabric being removed. Your pale [e/c] eyes widened as you realized he had removed his shoes and socks. He was virtually undetectable. ‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck.’ Your brain was going into hyperdrive. You couldn’t tell where he was or where he was going, he was as silent as Death himself.

And you were at his utter mercy.

You felt a hand wrap around your ankle, and you let out a yelp as he drug you out from behind the couch. He tore the shotgun from your grip and threw it across the room. You shouted when it went off, the bullets flying everywhere. Not having felt a thing, you guessed they had embedded themselves in the walls. His weight on your stomach increased as he let his full mass rest on top of you. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or I’ll have to kill you before we make it to the hard way.” He stated, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head again. “No! No, no, no!” You screamed, twisting and turning and struggling to be free.

White hot pain shot through the right side of your face, snaking up to kiss your skull. The skin of your cheek prickled, and you were speechless at the fact that he had punched you. “That seems to be the only way to calm you down.” He murmured, leaning down towards your face. His warm breath washed over your cheek, the smell of blood and flesh flooding your nostrils. ‘My god,’ You thought. ‘I’m going to be raped and silenced by a fucking cannibal.’ If you could somehow get to the shotgun, you’d be able to injure him long enough for him to stay down when the cops get here. Why the hell did you pick a house in the middle of the country without a neighbor surrounding you for miles? Why didn’t you just move in when your brother offered?

You let out a squeal as he drove the knife into your side, the blade piercing the skin and severing an intestine. You bit back a groan as the blood left your body. “You smell so delicious.” He sighed, nails scraping against the floor as he drug his fingers through the pool of your blood and brought them up to his lips, his tongue eagerly lapping up the crimson liquid. “You taste amazing.” His grip on you slackened as he dipped his fingers in the pool again and tasted your blood. “Usually men say that to me in bed.” You snarled, freeing a hand to swing forcefully into his jaw. He let out a cry of pain as he let you go and fell back. You punched where you hoped his genitals were, the loud scream of his bringing proof that you had guessed right. Quickly, quickly, ever so fast you ran to where the shot gun landed, cocking it again to get rid of the empty round, the chamber sliding shut with a new round inside.

“Ah.” He hissed, rolling over on his stomach. Jack had never met someone who tried to fight as much as you did. He had met others who had tried, but they quickly failed when he sunk his teeth into their throat. You, however, turned him on when you fought back.“Stay down or I swear to god that I will shoot!” You shouted, hopefully aiming at him. Jack glared at the barrel of your shotgun, the end not even pointing at him but in his general direction at least. Even if it wasn’t and you pulled the trigger, the bullets would spread and still injure him severely at such a close rate. “Alright. I’ll stay down.” He groaned and dropped his head onto the floor, not even caring if it was going to bruise later. Fucking hell did you punch hard.

“Good, now stay here while I finish my call with the police. If you so much as move, I’ll know and shoot your ass.” You warned, backing down the hallway, wincing when small shards dug themselves into the gouges on your feet. “I wonder what else you could do with that mouth other than swear like a sailor.” Jack commented, still clutching his pride and joy. For a blind woman, you seemed to be an expert at retaliation. Not once had you submitted to him, as much as he would’ve enjoyed it, and not once had you stopped trying to fight. Even though you were supposed to be his next meal, he had to admire your courage. Grunting, he sat up from his position on the floor, grabbing his scalpel and shoving it into his hoodie pocket. He drug himself into the kitchen, grabbing his socks to stuff inside his shoes.

Glancing down the hall to make sure you weren’t exiting your room any time soon, he grabbed his sock-stuffed-shoes and quickly stood up, dashing for the back door. The sound of sirens could be hear a little down the road, and he cursed as he unlocked the back door with his hoodie and ran out into the night. You heard the back door slam shut and swore, hanging the phone up to blindly (pun intended) follow him. You got as far as fifteen feet before the cut in your side pulsed with pain and you dropped to the grass. Something cold and wet nudged against you, and you exclaimed in surprised when Auden’s familiar wet-dog smell reached your nostrils. “I locked you outside, oh my god.” You breathed, nuzzling your dog as he yipped.

“Why didn’t you make any noise? Why didn’t you scratch at the door?” You chided, still carding your fingers through his elegant fur. When you pulled your hand away, you could feel a few shedded strands on your fingers. “Ew.” You mumbled. “Police!” You heard the faint yell of an officer. “Out here!” You shouted. The backdoor flew open and out came at least 6 police officers. “Are you the one who called?” One asked, putting his gun back in its holster as he knelt beside you and checked your wound. “We’ve got an injured persons, I’mma need an ambulance.” He said into his walkie talkie, pressing a hand to the wound that was pumping blood. “Yeah, I called. He took off. To the woods, I’m guessing.” The adrenaline from the fight had started to drain, and you could feel the rivulets of red leaving your body. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body was empty of energy. So tired.

“I need four of you to search the woods,” Some officers nodded while heading towards the treeline. “The rest of us will stay inside in case he comes back and for your window to be fixed.” You thanked the officer as a paramedic lifted you onto a stretcher, whisking you off to a waiting ambulance.