With his hunger fully satisfied, Jack felt a new sense of clarity. He'd gotten comfortable with his new ability to summon food, but now it was time to tackle the next step: the concealing technique from the scroll.
He remembered how the boy had struggled with the ghosts, how they could see him now, and how he had become a prisoner in his own home. Jack wasn't going to let that happen. It would be a waste to not be able to go out when you came to another world.
He needed to figure out how to hide himself from the supernatural beings and maintain control over his surroundings. If an unfriendly ghost happened to walk by and decided that he looked yummy, he would be in a very big trouble.
Taking a deep breath, Jack sat up straight, focusing his thoughts on the technique.
Oh, got it now. Why the boy had to go out. It wasn't just the hunger. He needed blood, to bath in.
"Fuck"
…
After a few hours of yanking his hair and punching his head trying to figure out the solution, he finally got something.
"Yes, I could try that" he shouted in his mind before running to the corner where he left his utensils to dry.
He got a cup from the ice cream and a knife from when he summoned the steak.
"If I need blood, can it be my blood? What if I drink my blood? Can I summon it later?"
Jack stood in the dimly lit cottage, clutching the cup and knife with a mix of determination and dread. The thought of needing to cut himself for blood to complete the ritual didn't seem fun.
"If this works, great. If not… well, at least I'll have a cool scar," he muttered to himself, trying to lighten the tension.
Taking a deep breath, he made a small cut on his hand. Blood welled up, and he quickly moved his hand over the cup, letting the blood drip inside. "Yep, definitely more blood."
"Alright," he whispered, steeling himself. "Bottoms up."
He took the cup and, with a grimace, drank the blood. "Ugh, tastes like metal. Perfect."
"Now, let's try summoning a cup of blood "
Jack sat down, focusing on the metallic taste that still lingered. He closed his eyes, picturing a cup of blood in his mind. "If I can summon KitKats, this should be easy, right?"
He opened his eyes and, to his amazement, the empty cup in his hand was full with blood again.
"Okay, that's… surprisingly gross, but also kind of awesome," he said, staring at the cup. "I guess I won't need to cut myself anymore. That's a relief."
Now, I need to take care of the cut and then bath in my own blood. How do I do that?
Jack realized he needed to be practical about this. First, he needed to clean and bandage his wound. He found a strip of cloth from his makeshift bed and tied it around his hand, wincing as he tightened it to stop the bleeding.
"Okay, step one done. Now for the weird part."
He looked around the small room, thinking about how to manage a blood bath without making a mess. "I guess I could use that old tub outside."
Jack headed out, dragging the wooden tub back inside. He set it up near the fire to keep the room warm.
"Right, now to summon the blood."
He focused hard, picturing the cup of blood he'd just drank. Suddenly, a cup of his blood appeared in his hand.
"This is so weird," he muttered, pouring it into the tub. He repeated the process, filling the tub bit by bit.
Finally, the tub was half full. He stood there, feeling a mix of excitement and dread.
Taking a deep breath, he stripped down and gingerly stepped into the tub. The blood felt warm and thick against his skin, and he shuddered at the sensation. It was deeply unsettling, but he knew it was necessary.
He started to recite the words from the scroll. At first, he felt nothing, so he kept going. Each recitation took about two minutes. He repeated the chant over and over, his voice growing steadier with each repetition.
By the tenth recitation, the blood started to boil. Jack's eyes widened in alarm, but he forced himself to stay focused. The boiling blood felt strange against his skin, like tiny bubbles bursting and releasing energy.
The heat increased with each moment, becoming almost unbearable. It felt as if the blood was turning into acid, scorching his skin. Though his skin remained intact, it turned a vivid, angry red.
Sweat mixed with the blood, and Jack gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to jump out of the tub. The searing pain coursed through his body, but he knew he had to endure it. The ritual demanded sacrifice. It demanded pain.
"Just a little longer," he whispered to himself in his mind, while his mouth continued with the chanting.
He can't stop now. He won't stop. If he did, he would have to start again. He doubted that he would do better the second time with the memory of the pain that he never felt in his life
"Just a little longer," he whispered to himself in his mind, while his mouth continued with the chanting.
He couldn't stop now. He wouldn't stop. If he did, he would have to start again. He doubted that he would do better the second time with the memory of the pain that he had never felt in his life.