Hostage | Eyeless Jack x Reader

The chill of early November bit at (Y/n)'s exposed skin as she hurried down the dirt path leading to the Markwood train station. Her worn boots kicked up dust with every hurried step, a testament to the two-hour walk from her remote farm.

Her wallet, pitifully thin, felt like a lead weight in her pocket. The last of her meager funds had just been handed over for a week-long train pass, leaving her with barely enough to scrape by. The grumpy old lady at the ticket counter, with her "crusty, long fingers," had only added to her already sour mood.

As the rickety steam engine screeched to a halt before her, spewing clouds of white steam into the crisp air, (Y/n) climbed aboard. The train, a relic from a bygone era, was the closest thing to luxury Markwood could afford. Finding a window seat, she leaned her head against the cold glass, shutting her eyes. Town was still a good half-hour away, and she could use the respite before facing the bustle and expense of it all.

Lost in thought, she drifted, contemplating the endless list of necessities her dwindling funds had to cover, and the ever-present worry of the broken head gasket on her tractor. The farm was her life, but it was a demanding one, and lately, it felt like it was demanding more than she had to give.