Beware all who run from Jack
He doesn’t always just attack
He’s a master thief, you see
He steals the skins of you and me
“You saw him?”
“Yes”
“When?”
“Three days ago. I’d snuck out of the house to explore-”
“Oscar!”
“I know, let me finish. I was in the woods, and I was crossing a bridge when I saw him. He looked like a burning, charred skeleton atop a pitch black horse. He looked at me, and I turned to run, but I could hear him behind me, shouting awful curses and threats. I managed to hide behind a tree, and he rode right past. He’s out there, though. He wants me.”
Ashton would’ve laughed at this tale, but his son’s colourless, sweating face didn’t show a hint of deception. Was it a dream, or a figment of imagination? Perhaps, but Oscar definitely believed it.
“I see. This seems like it must’ve been some sort of nightmare, but how about this. I’ll let you take whatever precautions on the journey home you want.”
Oscar’s face loosened. “Can we cross the river without a bridge?”
“Of course.”
Oscar heaved a sigh of relief, and they turned around for a different route. That was when they heard the voice.
When you’re chased, don’t trust your senses
That will lower your defenses
Those who hear of Burning Jack
May find their minds under attack
Carter's Compendium 