A woman opened her green eyes and looked around herself. She was in a dull lit room, a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The bed she was on felt strangely itchy, as if there were small crumbs all over it and when she flexed her fingers she felt powder on her fingertips and under her nails. Her clothes were rumpled but seemingly untouched. Something made her eyebrows furrow. Something wasn't-

She had no idea where she was.

With a gasp the woman jumped up, a hand rushing to her mouth. Frightened and whimpering she flung her head both ways to try and understand the room she was it.

The walls were once covered in a lime green wallpaper yet were stained and smeared with dark red god knows what. Tears ran down some parts, tears that looked as if they were made by human fingers since they ran down in five vertical lines. Right under the tears were large red stains of the deep red stuff.

Feeling the crumbly powder on her hand, the woman slowly lifted her palm from her face and instead held it in front of her eyes. Squinting at the powder, the woman could just make out that it was a dark red colour. There seemed something familiar about it and she glanced down at the bed to see it was covered by the small crumbs. The bedsheets also had red smears and stains, not to mention holes that looked like they were cut through.

Shaking violently and feeling her breath tighten, the woman slid her feet to the ground, finding out she was missing her usual high heels. Straightening her cream coloured suit, unblemished by the rest of the filth in the room, she took slow, hesitant steps around the room.

There strangely seemed to be no door, or none the woman could find anyway. Each of the four walls had the dark wallpaper and the floor was made of seemingly stone, its coldness running up the woman's body from her feet. Even the floor had on it the same red stains as the bed and walls and the woman kneeled down at one of the stains.

With a shiver, the woman hesitantly ran two fingers over the stain, surprised to find it was sticky and left imprints on her skin. Peering at the tips of her fingers, the woman took a cautious sniff of the redness before recoiling and jumping back up.

There was no mistaking it now. That metal smell wasn't one to be unsure about. The red stain was blood.

Feeling a sob escape her lips, she jumped back up and like a frightened rabbit jumped back onto the bed. Pressing her back right towards the wall behind her, she brought her knees to her chest and tightly covered them with her arms. Burying her face between her hands, she felt tears prickling her cheeks.

What was happening? What was this room and who-

'Forgive me for being so late.'

The woman gave a shrill scream as a body landed in a half crouch from the ceiling. Briefly glancing she saw a small rectangular door in the wood from which the man had fallen.

Looking at the man she was confused to see he seemed quite normal. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a dark red hoodie, the cowl hiding the man's face in shadow, he held his hands calmly in his pockets and his poise was relaxed. As he took a step forward, his feet emitting the tiniest of echoes, the woman pushed herself closer to the wall.

'What...what is this?' she whispered, her lips quivering.

A low laugh came from the shadow of the hood and the man stopped. In a fluid motion he flipped back the hood only to reveal a relatively young and cheerful face. Choppy locks the colour of dirty gold stood in messy strands around his scalp. High cheek bones were divided by a straight, long nose until ending at a smiling mouth. The man's eyes were a dark brown and from the meter or so distance between him and the woman, the woman could see his pupils were almost crazily pinprick.

'Sorry for the charade, ma'am,' he said lightly, once more sticking his hands into his pockets. 'I know this place isn't exactly the cleanest but-'

'Get me out of here.'

The man paused and knocked his head to the side, watchful eyes half covered by his hair. 'Can't do that, ma'am,' he said quietly. 'Can't let you out now.'

As the woman's vision turned cloudy with tears, she saw the man fumble with something in his pocket before withdrawing his hand, fingers clutching something her eyes couldn't see. The man took more steps towards her until he stood with his knees brushing the bed. Giving a slight motion with his head, he then placed both feet on the bed and crouched in front of the woman who tried to make herself as small as possible.

The man saw this and a laugh vibrated from deep within his throat. 'No need to do that, ma'am,' he said softly, his face inching closer and closer towards her. When their noses were almost touching and the woman was staring at the obviously drug induced eyes, the man once more pulled back his lips into a smile. His right hand came to her face, showing the small thing he had trapped in his fingers.

It was a short knife that folded in half. But right now it was open and looked like its edge was wickedly sharp. The woman could see her own pale and frightened face stare back at her in its shimmering metal.

'Who are you?' she choked out, feeling as fear began wrapping a cold hand around her heart.

'Me?' The man looked down at the knife for a second, his eyebrows almost meeting in the serious gesture. 'Well, I suppose they call me Jack.'

'W-why me?'

Jack ran the tip of the blade over the woman's cheeks in almost a loving way. The sharp edge never broke the skin and just left the woman shivering in fear and discomfort. His eyes then suddenly narrowed and he hungrily licked his lower lip, pressing the blade now against the woman's throat.

'I don't even know, ma'am.' And then he thrust.

•••••

Wiping the fresh blood from his cheeks with the back of his hand, Jack pocketed his knife before gently rolling the limp body off his feet. The woman, now punctured and ripped like a useless doll, lay with her eyes wide and blank, blood clotting around her eyelashes.

With a groan Jack rolled out of the bed and stood up, pocketing his dirty blade into his pocket.

The woman didn't even smile, he thought crossly to himself. He then shrugged and jumped up his feet to pushed the trapdoor on the ceiling open. Swinging his feet he swiftly pulled himself up and shut down the door behind him, pulling the hood once more above his head.

As the woman's blood began soaking into the already bloodstained bedsheets, her arm limply fell from the side of the bed, the trauma causing her body to give small shake. The shake made the woman's head loll back, revealing the huge amount of bright red blood smeared across her smiling mouth.

'You don't smile enough ma'am,' Jack muttered as pulled out the knife from the flesh of her arm. By now she had stopped screaming and truthfully, he didn't even know whether she was alive anymore.

'I'll make you smile,' he whispered into her unhearing ear before cradling her head in one hand. Bringing the knife close, he closed one eye and measured the distance of her face. With a shrug he placed the blade into the corner of her mouth and pushed.

The skin cut and ripped easily, the blade had been carefully sharpened before, and within seconds the woman's lips extended halfway up her cheeks.

'Now you will always smile,' Jack whispered, his own lips stretching into a leer.

Author's note: I have no idea how this came by...it just did. Reviews and tips welcome!