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There was not much that frightened Jack. He wasn't one to believe in the supernatural. There was usually an explanation for what seemed unexplainable. For example, when he slowly woke up, turned over, and found a grey man in black clothing that shifted like smoke, sharp grey teeth grinning down like a maniac, clinging to his ceiling with his limbs bent in broken angles, Jack's first thought was sleep paralysis.
His second thought was that not being able to move was going to suck. His third was remembering he had just moved, and his forth was a very emphatic 'Oh Fuck Wait'.
The man, demon, thing, chuckled at him. "Good morning." It's voice clicked like a broken record.
Jack stared up at it, frozen in fear for a while before he finally managed to speak. "Morning?"
The thing chittered lowly at him before one hand let go of the ceiling and he started stretching down toward Jack.
"Are you going to kill me?" Jack asked shakily.
"I don't know yet. I've already killed your roommate. We might make a deal though, you and I. Interested?" The background clicking of his voice turned to a malicious hiss.
"My-, my roommate? I live alone."
The thing's grin dropped and he blinked incomprehensibly before bald brows drew together. He retracted his hand. "Then who was the man in your kitchen?" His neck and head twisted sickeningly to look toward Jack's bedroom door for a moment.
"There's a man in my kitchen?" Jack exclaimed, fear only rising at this new information.
"Well not anymore." The demon turned its head back to look at him like he was an idiot, and Jack was surprised to find the urge to laugh in himself. "How could a man get into your home? Is your security that low?"
"Wh-, excuse me?"
"Jack. I saw no signs of forced entry. This man didn't have to struggle at all to get in, evidently." He monotoned.
"Are-, are you really judging me on my home security right now?"
The beast scowled at him. "Yes. It's important. You could have been killed." Its hand returned to the ceiling. "And on that note, you're welcome. Luckily for you, it looks like a suicide."
There was a small warm part of Jack that responded to the concern about him. No matter the source, it was nice to feel like someone, in some strange way, cared. But that was a weird feeling to have, so he ignored it in favor of the confusion that had fully overridden the fear at that point. Jack was half convinced he was dreaming. "I'm supposed to thank you for killing a random man in my house?"
"Not a random man." The demon corrected. "A potential thief or murderer."
"A potential thief or murderer who's now dead on my kitchen floor." Jack responded dryly.
"No. I chased him for a bit. He made it to the bathroom."
Again, he found himself holding back a small laugh. "Wow, that's so much better." Jack snarked back.
The thing sighed and brought his hand before his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Jack. Get better locks."
"Wait, how do you know my name?"
The demon looked incredibly unimpressed. "I'm currently on your ceiling. My knowledge of your name, it's not the thing you should be concerned about."
"Right right, I should be concerned about the demon telling me to upgrade my security."
"Poltergeist, actually, and yes."
Jack brought a hand to rub at his temple as he tried to process that. Tried to process everything about this strange being in his house with the dry humor who was concerned for his safety while clinging to his bedroom ceiling. "Why are you here?"
There was a long hesitation before its answer. "Well, I was going to try getting access to your soul. You've ruined the entire thing though."
"Oh, so sorry I ruined your night." Jack responded sarcastically, unable to fight the small amused smile that time.
"You're forgiven. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find another victim." It started turning, crawling along the ceiling like a spider.
"Wait!" Jack called on impulse, sitting up.
"What is it?" It hissed at him, twisting his head again to give him a very unimpressed look.
"What's uh, what's your name?" Jack asked, unsure what had come over himself but going with it, not ready to let the encounter go.
The poltergeist blinked at him a few times, thinking. "Pitch Black." His voice dropped the unnatural tone, and it felt vulnerable, somehow.
"Well, uh, thank you, Pitch."
Pitch looked a little stunned. "You're welcome."
"Will you be coming back? For- for my soul or whatever?"
Another pause stretched through the air before Pitch responded. "Do you want me to?"
"I mean," Jack scratched the back of his neck, "kinda?"
Pitch looked like he didn't know what to do with that information, surprised and lost. "Well, then I suppose I shall, Jack. You owe me anyway, for potentially saving your life." A quirk of his mouth proved his humor to Jack.
"Right, cool. Guess I'll uh, I'll see you then."
"As well I. Try not to get murdered in the meantime."
Jack nodded with a grin. "I'll try my best but uh, just to make sure, you should probably check by sooner rather than later."
Pitch gave Jack an appraising look, amusement still evident. "Very well. Until then."
"Until then." Jack echoed and watched as Pitch skittered the rest of the way across his ceiling and disappeared into the shadows of a corner.
Jack pressed a hand to his forehead, still partially wondering if he was dreaming, but he kinda hoped he wasn't. He really did want to find out more about a poltergeist with humor and care and willingness to try something new, not to mention, kind of pretty in a really weird, probably only Jack thought so, macabre way.