Birth of this character here
Jack had discovered that being reanimated was not at all what he expected it to be like. Truth is that as a spirit he had no expectations, not until he had taken a living form and realized that there has been some urge to be alive once more.
He could remember very little of his life. The life he had before he'd possessed a pumpkin. That first night as he struggled with just existing, he also struggled with why he had made the decision to live again at all. There was pain within the construct that was his body. Stiffness. Was he even made of sinew and bone" Was there muscle beneath that waxy skin" Part of him knew that is what he should be made of.
Then there was the urge. To go. To be somewhere. To find. It made him move his feet until his energy began to flag and the lure of lights drew him towards life. Had anyone inside asked him where he was he never would have identified the building as an inn. He didn't know what he was supposed to do there other than he knew that people sat at the bar.
People around him talked, their words washing in one ear and out the other. There was laughter and anger, noise and then a lull. A creature he couldn't identify nosing at his fingers. A person, maybe two, had tried to be kind. What they said he couldn't remember.
Everything happened on a delay. He knew because every time he started to respond he was suddenly aware that the conversation had moved on.
After a while he needed to leave. It was all too much.
Not long after he stepped out into the night he realized he had another urge. A hunger. Perhaps a need. Each step became harder and harder with his legs shaking. The energy to lift his feet enough so that they wouldn't drag against the pavement beneath mismatched sneakers. He stumbled. He fell.
"Mister?" A kind voice. Full of life. Jack managed to lift his head enough to see the youthful face peering down at him. A man barely out boyhood. A good heart that was willing to help a poor soul that was suffering.
Jack didn't know it was going to happen. If he had the part of him that remembered compassion might have refused no matter the need. When the man reached down to grab him by the arm he instinctively grabbed the offending wrist. It was out of shock and confusion, the guts between his ears not firing up to par. The man gasped and it happened.
Ask him to describe the experience of sucking out someone's life force and he couldn't. All he knew is that he felt a flood of life within him. It lasted all of moments and the man stumbled back looking relatively unhurt. But there was a little gray flecking his hair, Jack noticed, before he ran off.
And Jack? He felt a surge of renewed life. He would have apologized for the transgression, but there was a flash. A memory formed before his lamplike eyes. A woman smiling.
There and gone again. Just like Jack. He scrambled to his feet with more ease than he'd had prior to his fall. The urge to flee the scene of the crime stronger than his desire to find the man and apologize. Guilt, shame, made his feet all but fly.
Away.
Jack had discovered that being reanimated was not at all what he expected it to be like. Truth is that as a spirit he had no expectations, not until he had taken a living form and realized that there has been some urge to be alive once more.
He could remember very little of his life. The life he had before he'd possessed a pumpkin. That first night as he struggled with just existing, he also struggled with why he had made the decision to live again at all. There was pain within the construct that was his body. Stiffness. Was he even made of sinew and bone" Was there muscle beneath that waxy skin" Part of him knew that is what he should be made of.
Then there was the urge. To go. To be somewhere. To find. It made him move his feet until his energy began to flag and the lure of lights drew him towards life. Had anyone inside asked him where he was he never would have identified the building as an inn. He didn't know what he was supposed to do there other than he knew that people sat at the bar.
People around him talked, their words washing in one ear and out the other. There was laughter and anger, noise and then a lull. A creature he couldn't identify nosing at his fingers. A person, maybe two, had tried to be kind. What they said he couldn't remember.
Everything happened on a delay. He knew because every time he started to respond he was suddenly aware that the conversation had moved on.
After a while he needed to leave. It was all too much.
Not long after he stepped out into the night he realized he had another urge. A hunger. Perhaps a need. Each step became harder and harder with his legs shaking. The energy to lift his feet enough so that they wouldn't drag against the pavement beneath mismatched sneakers. He stumbled. He fell.
"Mister?" A kind voice. Full of life. Jack managed to lift his head enough to see the youthful face peering down at him. A man barely out boyhood. A good heart that was willing to help a poor soul that was suffering.
Jack didn't know it was going to happen. If he had the part of him that remembered compassion might have refused no matter the need. When the man reached down to grab him by the arm he instinctively grabbed the offending wrist. It was out of shock and confusion, the guts between his ears not firing up to par. The man gasped and it happened.
Ask him to describe the experience of sucking out someone's life force and he couldn't. All he knew is that he felt a flood of life within him. It lasted all of moments and the man stumbled back looking relatively unhurt. But there was a little gray flecking his hair, Jack noticed, before he ran off.
And Jack? He felt a surge of renewed life. He would have apologized for the transgression, but there was a flash. A memory formed before his lamplike eyes. A woman smiling.
There and gone again. Just like Jack. He scrambled to his feet with more ease than he'd had prior to his fall. The urge to flee the scene of the crime stronger than his desire to find the man and apologize. Guilt, shame, made his feet all but fly.
Away.