The Origin of Laughing Jack

4.0 0
31 min
by SnuffBomb

It’s Christmas Eve in snowy 1800’s London, England, and in a small house at the edge of town, there lived a lonely, 7-year-old boy named Isaac. Isaac was a sad child with not a friend to his name. While most children were spending time with their families and eagerly looking forward to opening the presents that were placed with care beneath a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, little Isaac spent this most holy of nights alone, in his cold, dusty attic room. Isaac’s parents were very poor, his mother was a strict crow of a woman who stayed at home and schooled Isaac. His father worked long hours down at the London harbour to support his family, although a large portion of his earnings went toward purchasing and consuming copious amounts of alcohol at the end of his shift. Sometimes, he would come home drunk, after being thrown out of every bar in London, and shout at his beloved wife, Isaac’s mother.

Occasionally, it would escalate to violence and he would beat her savagely, then when he was done, he’d force himself upon her in a drunken, sexual rage. As it so happens, this particular night was one of those occasions. Isaac just remained quiet, quivering beneath his soiled bed sheets until the screams and loud bangs subsided. Once poor frightened Isaac was finally able to fall asleep, he’d dream of what it would be like to have a friend to play with, so maybe he could laugh and be happy like the other children of London. Luckily for little Isaac, this Christmas Eve marked a big change, when his abysmal loneliness caught the attention of a guardian angel, who then crafted a very special gift for the sad little London boy.

As the sun rose on that Christmas morning, Isaac opened his eyes to find a strange wooden box sitting at the foot of his bed. With eyes widened in awe, he stared at the colorful, hand crafted box, wondering who had left it. He was not used to receiving gifts, especially toys. What little toys Isaac did have were ones he’d found abandoned in the street or washed up in the gutters. Isaac scooted up to the foot of his bed in front of the mysterious box and picked it up with both hands. The box was beautifully painted in colorful styles, with carvings of happy clown faces on the side. There was a tag on the box that simply read “For Isaac.” On the top of the box was an engraved text.

Isaac squinted his eyes as he sounded out the words, “L-laugh-ing-J-Jack-in-a-b-box…” he paused, “…Laughing Jack-in-a-box?” Isaac had heard of a Jack-in-a-box, but never a Laughing Jack-in-a-box. His mind spun with curiosity as he grasped the box’s metal crank. Isaac tuned the crank and the song Pop Goes The Weasel chimed in rhythm with the crank’s gyrations. As the song came to its climax, Isaac sang along with the final verse, “Pop goes the weasel,” but nothing happened. Isaac let out a sigh, “It’s broken…” He placed the box back down on the edge of the bed, and shuffled across his small dusty room to his dresser where he changed out of his soiled sleepwear and into his usual tattered clothes.

Suddenly, Isaac heard a loud rattling noise coming from the bed behind him. He spun around to witness the wooden box violently shaking. Then, without warning, the top of the box swung open and a parade of colorful smoke and confetti bellowed out. Isaac rubbed his eyes in disbelief of what he was seeing. As the smoke cleared, there stood a tall, thin, multicolored clown man, with bright red hair, a swirly, rainbow colored cone nose, and feathery shoulders that sat atop his raggedy and colorful clown outfit.

The Technicolor clown spread his arms and excitedly announced, “COME ONE, COME ALL! WHETHER BIG OR SMALL! TO SEE THE BEST CLOWN OF THEM ALL!! The one, the only, LAUGHING JACK-IN-A-BOX!!!”

Isaac’s eyes lit up, “W-Who are you?” he asked.

The colorful carnie stepped down off the bed and with a happy grin said, “I’m glad you asked! I am Laughing Jack, your new friend FOR LIFE! I’m magical, I never get tired of playing, I’m a wiz at the accordion, and I adapt and develop with your own changing personality… In other words, whatever you like, I like!”

Isaac looked up at the mysterious clown man, “W-we’re friends?” he stuttered.

Jack looked at the boy while cocking an eyebrow, “FRIENDS? We’re BEST friends! I was specially created to be YOUR not-so-imaginary friend, Isaac.”

Isaac’s jaw dropped, “You know my name?”

Jack let out a whimsical laugh, “Of course I know your name! I know everything about you! So, now that the introductions are out of the way… How would you like to play a game of I Spy?”

Isaac grinned from ear to ear, “REALLY? We can play games? I’d LOVE to! I-… Oh…”

He paused, “I-I cant… I have to go downstairs to see mother for homeschooling and chores…” his smile faded into a look disappointment.

Jack placed his hand on Isaac’s shoulder and with a warm smile said, “It’s okay! I’ll be waiting right here for you when you get back.” Isaac’s smile returned as he looked up at his new friend. Just then, he heard his mother’s shrill voice calling him from downstairs.

“Well I gotta go! I’ll see you after I’m done, okay Jack?” He said as he headed toward the door.

Jack smiled, “Absolutely kido! Oh, and Isaac!”

Isaac looked back at Jack, who gave him a wink and said, “You should wear that smile more often. It suits you.”

Isaac grinned happily as he turned and walked out the door.

All day Isaac told his mother about the amazing colorful clown man who came out of a magical box that appeared on the foot of his bed. His mother, however, did not believe a word of it. Finally, he persuaded his mother to follow him up to his room so she could behold Laughing Jack for herself. They walked up the stairs and Isaac swung open the door to his room.

“See mother? He’s right he-…” Isaac paused as he scanned the room that contained neither magical dancing clown man, nor mysterious wooden box. Isaac’s mother was not amused. She gave Isaac a glare so menacing it made his knees weak and his stomach sick.

“B-but mother… he was-“ SMACK! Isaac’s mother delivered onto him a swift, hard smack across his face. His eyes began to tear up, and his lip began to quiver as he could feel himself about to break down.

“YOU STUPID INSOLENT CHILD! How DARE you lie to me about such childish idiocy! Who would want to be friends with a useless worm such as you?! You shall remain in your room for the rest of the evening, and shall receive no dinner… Now what do you say you ungrateful wretch?”

Isaac managed to swallow the knot in his throat in order mutter a reply, “T-thank you m’am.” His mother glared down at him for a moment before leaving the room in disgust.

Isaac kneeled over, burying his face in the side of his bed. Streams of tears ran down his cheeks as he began to weep. “What’s wrong kido?” a voice called out. Isaac looked over to the edge of the bed, where Laughing Jack was now suddenly sitting beside him.

“Wh-where were you?” Isaac murmured.

Jack ran his hand through Isaac’s hair to comfort him as he softly replied, “I was hiding… I can’t let your parents see me… Otherwise they won’t let us play anymore.” Isaac wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Look kido, I’m sorry I had to hide, but I’ll make it up to you! Because tonight we can play games and have tons of fun!” Jack said, smiling.

Isaac looked up at his vibrant pal and silently nodded, as a little smile began to form in the corners of his mouth. That night, Laughing Jack and Isaac played so many fun games. With a wave of his hand, Jack made all of Isaac’s tin solders spring to life and march around the room. Isaac was amazed as he watched his toys move around the room on their own. Then, Laughing Jack and Isaac told each other spooky ghost stories. Isaac asked Jack if he was a ghost, but Jack explained that he was more of a cosmic entity, of sorts. At the end of the night, Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out an assortment of delicious candy. Isaac was in ecstasy when he popped the first colorful treat in his mouth, as it was his first time tasting something so sweet. Isaac had so much fun and laughed so hard that night that things seemed to be finally looking up for little Isaac… At least, until the incident that occurred three months later…

It was pleasantly warm and sunny in London that day, which was a bit of a rarity. So, with the help of a certain not-so-imaginary friend, Isaac was able to finish his chores early and was allowed to go outside and play for a bit. Things started simply enough, the duo were back behind the house playing pirates, when Isaac spotted the neighbors cat sneaking into their garden.

“YEARGH! WE GOT AN ENEMY SPY OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!” Isaac yelled, captivated by fantasy and imagination.

“Yo ho! I’ll gets him Captain Isaac!” Exclaimed first mate Jack, in his best hearty pirate accent. Laughing Jack’s arm stretched out across the garden and snatched the unsuspecting feline, who began to struggle quite vigorously.


Jack’s grip on the cat tightened, and his arms grew and extended like anacondas wrapping themselves around the wily feline as it struggled for dear life. Jack’s arms just kept squeezing the animal, pressing the air out of its lungs. As the once dear house pet’s eyes began to bulge out of their sockets, there came a loud SNAP! Jack quickly released the creature from his grasp as its lifeless furry husk thudded against the ground. There was hush silence as the two observed the cat’s now twisted and mangled corpse. The silence was finally broken by an uproarious laughter… coming from Isaac…

“AHAHAHAHA Wow! I guess cats really DON’T have nine lives! AHAHAHA!” Isaac exclaimed nearly teary eyed from laughter.

Laughing Jack began to chuckle as well, “Heh heh. Yeah… But won’t you get in trouble if your mother finds your neighbor’s cat dead in her garden?” Isaac’s laughter quickly subsided.

“Oh no! You’re right! Um… I’ll just… throw it back into the neighbor’s yard?!” Isaac panicked as he grabbed a nearby shovel and scooped up the broken cat cadaver before lobbing it over the fence back into the neighbors yard. They quickly went back inside and up into Isaac’s room.

About an hour later, it came. The ear piercing squawk of Isaac’s mother shrieking his name from downstairs. Neither Jack nor Isaac said a word as he crept down the stairs alone to face whatever horrible fate was coming to him. Jack could hear much yelling from downstairs but couldn’t make out what was being said. After about thirty minutes, a teary eyed Isaac ascended the stairs back up into the room.

“Well?” Jack asked nervously. Isaac just starred at the ground as he spoke, “I… Tried to tell her it was you who hurt the cat… She didn’t believe me… Said you weren’t real…” Jack frowned, knowing this was all his fault.

Isaac used his sleeve to wipe away his tears, “I’m being sent off to a boarding school… I’m leaving tonight… and you can’t come with me…”

Laughing Jack’s face turned to shock, “What?! I-I can’t come? Where will I go?” Isaac said nothing but pointed over at the beautiful colored box from where his friend had originated.

“Back in there? But I won’t be able to get out until…” Jack paused.

Isaac looked up as his only friend with tears streaming down his face, “Jack… I promise I’ll come back for you as soon as I can!” Jack looked at the box, then back at Isaac.

“And I’ll be right here waiting for you kido.” Jack smiled, as a single tear ran down his cheek. He walked over to the box and, with a puff of smoke, was sucked back in, unable to be free until once again opened.

That night, Isaac was sent off to boarding school. For the first time, Laughing Jack felt what it was like to be lonely. Even when trapped in his box, Jack was able to see the things going on around it, so each day, he waited for his friend to return, and each day the room grew older and dustier. Laughing Jack’s one purpose was to be Isaac’s best friend for life, and now he had to wait day after day, month after month, to reunite with his special friend. Isaac’s parents still lived in the house, but never came to the upstairs room. The only time they made their presence known was when Jack would hear them fighting. Still Jack’s life became one of solitude, loneliness, and disappointment. As years went by, Jack’s once bright vibrant colors began to fade into a monochrome blur of pitch-black void and stark white emptiness. Trapped all alone… eternal and hopeless.

Thirteen years passed until the night Isaac’s father came home particularly drunk, and got into an argument with his wife, as per usual. Things escalated to physical violence once again, however this time, she didn’t get back up. Isaac’s father had beaten his wife to a dead, bloody pulp and was sentenced to hang at the gallows the next day. With both his parents dead, this meant that the now twenty-year-old Isaac inherited the dusty old house he spent the earlier half of his childhood in. Laughing Jack was quite surprised when he heard his old friend’s footsteps walking up the stairs to the attic room for the first time in thirteen years, however it was not the reunion Jack had hoped for.

Isaac looked… different. Not only was he older, but he also seemed to posses this odd grim look on his face. No longer was he the hopeful and curious young boy Jack first met all those years ago. Jack eagerly awaited Isaac’s releasing him from the prison he had waited in for so many years, but still Jack’s box sat there, untouched and unnoticed on a shelf in the corner of the room with all the other dusty, unwanted knick-knacks. Isaac had completely forgotten about his old friend, dismissed as some sort of early childhood fabrication. Surprisingly, this made Laughing Jack feel… nothing. He was hollow, thirteen years of waiting and disappointment left the monochrome clown void of sorrow and self-pity. Jack remained in his box, colorless and without emotion.

The next day, Isaac went off to work at his job as an upholsterer, doing furniture repairs for the good people of London. Jack waited in captivity. Hours later, a drunken Isaac returned home and stumbled up the stairs to his room, but this time he had a friend with him. It was a lady friend Isaac had picked up at the bar earlier that evening. She was beautiful, with flowing blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a smile that could make hearts melt. Laughing Jack’s attention was drawn to Isaac’s guest, “Who is this? A new friend? Why does Isaac need new friends? I thought I was Isaac’s only friend?” Jack thought to himself from within his hellish confinement. Isaac and his lady friend sat down on the bed and chatted about life in London. Isaac made a joke about the weather and they both laughed.

Laughing Jack hissed with envy over Isaac’s new friend. Isaac and the girl looked deeply into each other’s eyes as they leaned in for a kiss, locking lips with a passionate swirling of tongues in one another’s mouth. Jack was perplexed by this strange display of affection, for he had never seen kissing before. As the kissing grew more intense, Isaac ran his hand along the girl’s smooth thigh and up her dress, however his guest just brushed his hand away. Isaac was persistent though, and once again ran his hand along her smooth thigh and up her skirt, this time placing his hand upon her silky undergarments. The woman took great displeasure with Isaac’s sexual advancements and pushed Isaac away before delivering a hard smack across his face. Isaac’s eyes darkened as he glared at the woman, his once drunken passion turned into booze-fueled anger. The woman’s heart sped up as she saw Isaac’s face boil with rage.

“STUPID WHORE!” Isaac yelled as he smashed his fist into the girl’s face.

Laughing Jack’s eyes widened as he witnessed the long streaks of red liquid gushing from the girl’s nose, “What game is this?” he thought, his eyes a virgin to such violent sights. Isaac firmly clutched the girl’s wrist with one hand as he tore her panties off with the other.

The terrified girl tried to fight back, but Isaac was overpowering her. He roughly fondled her breasts, before savagely grabbing her hair and forcing his tongue down the sobbing young woman’s throat, who responded by chomping down as hard as she could on Isaac’s tongue. Jack watched with wide and curious eyes as his old friend released his new playmate and clutched his mouth as it filled with warm, red blood. The frightened girl fell off the bed and dropped down on the floor as she scurried toward the exit. Isaac quickly lurched forward and was able to catch his fleeing plaything by the end of her dress.

Reaching back, he wielded a lead candlestick off the nightstand beside him, and with all of his might bashed in the back of the young woman’s head, which burst open like a ripe watermelon. Thick blood splattered across the room as the girl’s body convulsed on the ground for several seconds, before going completely still. Blood was everywhere, some droplets even managed to get on Laughing Jack’s box, who was very much enjoying the show. For the first time in thirteen long years, a smile began to creep across Laughing Jack’s face, and all of a sudden a chuckle escaped his cold lips, then another, and another, until Jack was cackling and howling with laughter from inside his sealed box.

“What a wonderfully fascinating game!” Jack thought, as he watched the motionless girl’s golden blonde hair flow red with blood.

As the adrenaline began to mellow, Isaac realized he had to dispose of the body. He picked up the girl’s lifeless corpse and plopped it on the bed, he then left the room closing the door behind him and locking it before leaving the house. He returned almost a full day later and re-entered the room brining with him a metal garbage can and his bag of upholstery tools from work. He then cleared everything off the wooden desk on the wall opposite to the door, and then dragged the bed with bloody corpse into the middle of the room. This not only gave Isaac room to work, but it also gave Laughing Jack a front row seat to the whole spectacle. Jack watched with a big, unfading grin as Isaac played his new game with the soiled corpse. Once Isaac was all set up, he got to work.

First, he dumped out the contents of his big black tool bag onto the worktable behind him. An assortment of knives, hammers, pliers, and other tools was now laid out before him. His first pick was curved upholstery knife, which he used to carefully skin the body. That skin was then placed on racks to be stretched and turned into leather. Once that was put in place, Isaac then used a handsaw to saw off the arms, legs, and head, disturbing the home of several families of maggots in the process. After filling the garbage can with bleach and other vile chemicals, he submerged the limbs until the meat was stripped from the bones. Isaac fished the bones out of the soupy corpse juice and placed them on the worktable, then in the cover of night, he brought the trash can outside and dumped the rotten remains into the London sewers to be swept away into the harbour.

For the next three days, Laughing Jack watched with wonderment as the inspired Isaac crafted the once human anatomy into a grotesque armchair abomination. The femur was made into the back legs of the chair, while the tibia, with the feet still attached of course, was made into the front chair legs. A wooden frame was used for the base and backing of the chair, however the rim of the backing was crafted using the spinal column. The arm bones were used as the arms of the chair, and were fastened in place by some ribs.

The now leathery flesh was sewn onto the seat and backing of the chair, and the golden blonde hair was braided into a lining for the base. Atop this armchair from hell sat the skull that once belonged to the girl who had the golden blonde hair, the sapphire eyes, and the smile that could melt hearts. Isaac was quite pleased with his work, and Laughing Jack too was impressed by his old playmate’s profound creativity. After that night, Isaac never touched another drop of alcohol again, for he now possessed a much more macabre thirst.

In the following weeks, Isaac made several improvements to his little workshop of horrors. He removed the mattress from the bed and put a row of thick wooden planks in its place, and then he fastened arm and leg restraints to the bottom and sides. This would mean he would be able to entertain his guests for a longer period without them trying any rude escape attempts. Isaac needed only one, final thing before planning another grotesque party. He worked on it for a week straight, hand carving it out of wood.

After a coat of white paint was applied, Isaac’s creation was complete. It was a wooden mask, resembling something one would wear at a Venetian masquerade ball. It had a furrowed brow and a long, troll-like nose, and would allow him to strike fear in the hearts of his beloved guests. With his new face complete and the room transformed into a bloody murder nest, it was finally time for Isaac Lee Grossman to bring home a new playmate.

That following night, Laughing Jack watched as the masked Isaac Grossman stomped up the stairs, carrying with him a large burlap sack with his newest guest writhing within. He dumped the bag out on his torture bed, and out plopped a bound, gagged, and very frightened young boy, probably only five or six years old. Isaac quickly undid the boy’s bindings and held him down as he restrained his hands and feet to the steel bedframe. Tears streamed endlessly down the boy’s helpless little face, as Isaac laid out his tools on the workbench. Isaac returned wielding a pair of rusty pliers, and wasting no time he slid the bottom jaw of the pliers under the boy’s fingernail on his right index finger and clamped it tightly. The child’s eyes quivered as he began muttering through his gag, begging Isaac to let him go. Isaac smirked as he slowly bent the pliers backward, painfully prying off the first fingernail.

The boy screamed through his gag as he writhed in agony on the wooden boards, his finger beginning to gush with blood. Isaac then moved on to the boy’s middle finger, firmly grasping the nail with the rusty pliers. Once again, he jerked the pliers back, but this time the nail only tore off half way. The boy yelped in pain as his fingers twitched and shot with blood. Clamping the half pried off nail, Isaac gave it another yank. The nail tore off, but not without taking a good deal of skin tissue with it. Even Isaac was a bit rebuffed by this painful sight, unlike the spying Laughing Jack who was cackling with joy at the disturbing action as he watched from within his old dusty box.

Isaac returned to the workbench and swapped the pliers for a large iron hammer. He then made his way to the foot of the torture bed, where with one hand he held down the boy’s left leg. He raised the hammer high above his head as the boy cried and pleaded for mercy through his dirty gag, then with all his might, Isaac slammed the hammer down on to the boy’s bare kneecap, shattering the bone into gravel with a loud CRACK! The child convulsed in pain with shrill screams muffling through the cloth gag tied tightly to his face.

As the child struggled with intense pain, Isaac placed the hammer down on the wooden bed and returned once more to the workbench where he equipped himself with a long sharp knife. Without delay he began carving the words “Useless Worm” into the child’s quivering chest. When he finished the boy was barely conscious. Isaac knelt down and whispered into the boy’s ear, “This is what happens to rotten children who make nasty faces at people…”

The child’s eyes filled with tears one final time as Isaac began to carve the skin off the boy’s face, but to Isaac’s surprise the boy still clung to life. The mutilated child just stared up at Isaac with his big round eyes, which filled Isaac’s black heart with rage and hatred.

“EVEN WITHOUT A FACE YOU’RE STILL AN UGLY LITTLE SHIT!!” Isaac shouted as he picked up the hammer from the foot of the bed and began to bash the poor boy’s skull in.

He smashed it over and over, until it was nothing but a bloody caved in mass of flesh, pouring with thick, red blood and oozing out chunks of brain matter. From across the room, Laughing Jack gleefully observed the grand finale, which had lived up to his expectations quite wonderfully.

Isaac’s next guest was a blind old woman whom he had invited over for some tea. It took her almost five minutes to realize the chair she was sitting on was crafted using human remains, and another 6 minutes to find the stairs, only to topple down them flailing and screaming like a loon. Isaac decided to end the cruel joke there with a simple ice pick through her eye socket.

After that, he brought over a little girl whom he force-fed broken glass before using her stomach as a punching bag. As the weeks went by, more and more unlucky souls met their end in Isaac Grossman’s attic, and as the mad Grossman’s personality became more dark and sadistic, Laughing Jack’s personality followed suit while he rotted within his dusty box… until one very cold December night.

The rusty nails that were holding up the shelf of forgotten knick-knacks finally gave way and the whole thing plummeted to the ground. Isaac heard the loud thud from downstairs, and decided to climb up to the attic to investigate. He walked across the blood stained wood floor of the attic, over toward the fallen shelf. Isaac brushed aside some of the trinkets that broke in the crash, when he finally came across the Jack-in-a-box from his childhood. Isaac barely recognized the old, tattered box as he picked it up and blew off some of the dust. Then, for whatever nostalgic reason, he decided to grasp the box’s rusty clank and begin turning it.

A horribly off key Pop Goes The Weasel clanked from the worn out old box, and as it reached its climax, Isaac sung along with the final verse, “Pop goes the weasel…” The top of the box swung open, but nothing happened, it was empty. Isaac expected as much, and he tossed the old box in the garbage with the other broken knick-knacks. After the mess was cleaned up, he went to open the door to go back downstairs, but it was stuck. Isaac pulled hard but the door wouldn’t budge. Just then he heard the most horrible raspy voice call out from behind him.

“IsSsaAac…” A cold jolt ran down Isaac’s spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up as he slowly turned around… All the way across the room by the garbage can stood the nightmarish Laughing Jack. He was completely monochrome, his mangled black hair hung down in twisted locks, sharp jagged teeth decorated his twisted grin, and his arms hung down like a ragdoll with his grotesquely long fingers nearly scraping the floor.

Then, with a bone chilling, raspy voice, the fiendish clown spoke, “How nice it is to finally be free!… Did you miss me Isaac?”

Isaac was paralyzed in fear, “b-but I thought you weren’t real… IMAGINARY?!” Isaac stuttered. Jack replied with a long horrifying cackle.

“HAHAHAHA! Oh I’m quite real kiddo… In fact, I’ve been waiting such a long time for this day to finally come… When I can play with my best friend for life… One. Last. Time!” Before Isaac could reply, Jack’s long arms stretched across the room and wrapped around Isaac’s legs.

The twisted clown began pulling him closer, dragging him onto his own wooden torture bed as Isaac’s fingernails scraped along the floor. Ignoring the restraints, Jack swiftly grabbed 4 three-inch long iron nails from the workbench and pressed them straight through of Isaac’s hands and feet, nailing him to the wooden torture bed. Isaac growled in pain as he shouted at his captor, “AAAH! FUCK YOU! GOD DAMN CLOWN NOSED FREAK!!”

Laughing Jack just chuckled, as he forcefully held Isaac’s head in place stating, “If you can’t say something nice, then don’t say anything at all!” Jack reached his long crooked fingers into Isaac’s mouth, firmly grasping his tongue and stretching it out as far as it could go. The clown then reached back and grabbed a long sharp knife from the table and slowly began to slice through the meat of Isaac’s tongue. Once lobbed off, Isaac’s mouth began to overflow with blood. Jack responded by shoving a small cylindrical metal tube trough Isaac’s throat to act as a temporary breathing hole. At this point Isaac was already in great pain, and had his eyes clenched shut to avoid seeing the sickening horrors that were being performed upon his body.

“Come on, it’s no fun if you don’t watch!” Laughing Jack said playfully, but Isaac kept his eyes tightly shut. Laughing Jack sighed, “Suit yourself.” Jack then forcibly held open one of Isaac’s eyes. He reached back with his big arm and took out some long pointy fishing hooks from the workbench. Slowly Jack pushed the sharp end of the hook through the top eyelid straight through the bottom of the eyebrow and out the top, permanently pinning it open. Then, he took out a second hook pushing it through the bottom eyelid and pinning it to the cheek. Jack repeated the process to the other eye, and before long, a series of sharp metal hooks made sure Isaac didn’t miss out on any of the action. Laughing Jack then took the same knife he had used to lob off Isaac’s tongue and began to focus on the removal of Isaac’s lips. Jack carefully sliced two long strips of flesh off of Isaac’s upper and lower mouth, causing his teeth and gums to be completely exposed.

“Hmm… looks like someone hasn’t been flossing regularly…” Laughing Jack cackled under his breath, as he reached back and grabbed the hammer. Isaac attempted to mutter some kind of beg for mercy, however only gurgled moans escaped his throat. Jack raised that hammer into the air and, with a twisted grin, he slammed it down, giving off a loud CRACK as the iron hammer shattered Isaac’s teeth like brittle clay. Jack dropped the hammer and began to howl with laughter as he tore open Isaac’s shirt. Taking the sharpest knife, Jack cut straight down Isaac’s chest all the way down past the stomach. Isaac groaned with sharp stinging pain as the monochrome monster wormed his wretched fingers underneath the skin on Isaac’s chest, peeling it back as he was about to preform his horrible live autopsy.

First, Jack began to pull out Isaac’s intestines in the same manner a magician would pull a series of colorful cloths out of his pocket. Then, after snipping off a small length of intestines, Jack pressed one end against his cold black lips and began blowing air into the foul organ. Once inflated, he twisted it up into the shape of a poodle, and with a loud chuckle exclaimed, “I can do giraffes too!” Isaac remained still in pain and shock, as the clown creature gently placed the macabre balloon animal beside Isaac’s head.

For his next trick, Laughing Jack reached deep into Isaac’s open stomach cavity and yanked out one of his kidneys. Holding it in his hand, Jack turned to his captive friend and shrugged stating that, “kidneys really aren’t my thing…” Tossing the organ aside Laughing Jack noticed that Isaac was beginning to drift into death.

“Feeling tired already? Why, we’re nearly at the grand finale!” Laughing Jack exclaimed as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a long adrenaline needle. “This ought to perk you RIGHT up!” Jack shouted as he slammed the needle into Isaac’s retina and injected the liquid into his right eye socket. Jack wiggled and twisted the needle further into his old playmate’s eyeball, as Isaac was reeled back into life to the feeling of a sharp needle scraping the back of his eye socket. With a sinister chuckle, Jack yanked the needle out, pulling the eyeball out with it. Isaac’s right eye now hung out of its socket by the eyestalk as it dribbled down the side of his face.

Jack smirked, “Well, now that I have your full attention…” The insidious clown then took his long, crooked index finger and poked a hole in Isaac’s stomach. Jack lowered his head down toward the open chest cavity and stretched his mouth open wide. Within seconds, a torrent of filthy cockroaches started crawling out of the clown’s gullet, spilling onto Isaac’s open chest. Each vile roach crawled and pushed its way into the small opening in Isaac’s stomach, filling it from within full of disgusting writhing bugs. As his stomach became bloated with bugs, the roaches began to scurry up his throat, squeezing their way out of his mouth and nasal cavity.

Isaac was inches from death when his captor kneeled beside him and spoke into his ear, “It’s been a blast kido, but it looks like our time together is about up. No need for tears though, because I plan to spread my friendship to all the lonely kids of the world!” and with that said, Laughing Jack reached into Isaac’s chest and yanked out his still beating heart.

As his life bled out on that cold wooden bed, Isaac’s life flashed before his eyes. He saw his mother, his father, the boarding school, his victims, and the last thought that fluttered through his mind, was of that very special Christmas where he woke up to find the beautifully hand carved wooden box that contained his very first friend…

There are rumors that, when the police finally found Isaac Grossman’s rotten, maggot infested corpse weeks later on Christmas Eve, that even though his face had been bashed and torn to bits… He almost looked… Happy.

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xxXsophiaXD avatar
1 month ago

this is such a good story it really gives a understanding of why laughing jack did what he did I love it

8 months ago

I love this Creepypasta. I’m confused why a lot of people are insulting the author for the amount of gore or how “unrealistic” it is. First of all, name a horror movie or story where the wasn’t at least a little bit of blood and gore. Secondly, it doesn’t have to be completely freaking identical to real life. The author wouldn’t need to make it exactly like real-life 1800’s London, considering the fact that, oh I don’t know, the fact it’s about A GIGANTIC FREAKING SUPERNATRAUL CLOWN DEMON! Yeah, no, it has to be realistic. Sure, okay. But moving on from the bad comments (sorry), I really enjoy reading this. I love how Isaac was basically telling Jack to kill him by torturing those people, since Jack had no idea that murder, torture, and mutilation was bad and he just thought Isaac made a new game.

Additionally, I love how Jack’s doings after Isaac’s death is left really ambiguous. I mean, we know everything in the OG story prob still happened and a lot of kids died, yeah. But there’s still an air of curiosity.

That’s all I wanted to say. Sorry if I seemed less interested in talking about the pasta, and rather preferred to defend the writer from the comments. I’m just one of those people who have to talk about something when it happens.

9 months ago

why am i mildly attracted to isaac

like not to the point i would date him because i value my life i guess but if he didnt kill people he’d be really hot

Moss avatar
2 months ago
Reply to  RandomGuy


Cowley Winchester
Cowley Winchester
2 years ago

I look just like Laughing Jack and he is so hot.

2 years ago

Fucking horrible, not scary and terribly written, unlikeable characters, tedious pacing, un needed gore and filler, this story fucking sucks

2 years ago

I love Laughing Jack’s Story <3

2 years ago

Wow. That was pretty horrifying

3 years ago

Man I sure miss the time creepypastas weren’t cheap ass torture porn in the vein of the Saw series, and there was actual horror.

Like the idea is fine—kid gets and imaginary friend that nobody can see, and does messed up stuff.

That can be scary.

But everything else is so fucking broken the story is nothing but utter garbage, and not even fun garbage, but painful garbage. I dunno why people are still under the perception that torture porn works better than legit suspense for horror.

Torture porn just disgusts me and just makes me wanna stop reading. And the fact that it’s done on fucking CHILDREN and animals, and it just keeps going and going for several paragraphs to make it longer just makes it worse.

You do not need your story to be that long to be good.

Creepypastas started as basically the modern equivalent to horror campfire stories.

They can be short and be good.

This feels like a poor man’s attempt at writing something like Sweeney Todd, mixed in with Beetlejuice and fucking Hostel with the same kind of shitty horror including the shitty ass characters and edge.

What else can I say?

Bad Creepypasta already said everything that needs to be said regarding the hystorical innacuracies like fucking “flossing” in the fucking 1800s, how awful the fucking grammar is and how fucking different the antagonist works here compared to the original Laughing Jack creepypasta.


3 years ago

Man, people must have some low ass standards to make shit like this insanely popular.

Miss when creepypastas were just modern internet urban legends instead of the equivalent to Hostel with the whole “more gore and guts makes it scarier guys than anything actually scary.”

3 years ago

i love it

3 years ago

Omg this was scary as hell and i loved it! some errors but a 9/10

3 years ago


laughing jack
laughing jack
3 years ago

hi yes all of that happened but his name was not Isaac

4 years ago

I liked it but if we had showed/told what jack did to the rest of the children in the world it would be great sequel please!

Laughing Jill
Laughing Jill
4 years ago

THIS. WAS. AWESOMEEE!!!!!!!!! I love Laughing Jack now I’m gonna be him for Halloween… MAN I wish he was real… ):3

4 years ago


BubblyShip avatar
4 years ago

Laughing Jack will always be my favorite with Bloody Painter, just love their stories

4 years ago

Total bullshit I would rather shove a tree branch up my butt than read again

xXLaughingJackXx avatar
5 years ago

This is the best creepypasta I’ve ever read. The details were so precisely on point. 10/10

5 years ago

So, I was brought here by the YouTube show “Bad Creepypasta”. Even though I agree with pretty much everything they said in their review, I did want to check this story out for myself– just so I could get a feel for it and come to my own conclusions, I guess.
And yeah, I’m not sure what I expected, but…. sorry, it’s pretty bad.
The thing is, it doesn’t matter how good the prose is (I thought it was all right here; a little clichéd in the phrasing sometimes, but I can tell some effort was put in) if the content sucks. And when the content is largely shock tactics and detailed gore, then the story really suffers.
That’s definitely the main issue. It’s unpleasant and tasteless. And I know plenty of people have pointed out the many anachronisms, but those are probably the second-biggest glaring error. I’m all for a little suspension of disbelief, but it really breaks any immersion when there’s a historical innacuracy in every other paragraph.

That being said, though, this was written, what, 2 years ago or more? I’m sure the author’s improved since then (assuming they take criticism to heart), and judging by their writing style, they were definitely trying here. Overall, the subject matter is pretty garbage, but there’s something to be said for creativity, I guess?
If the author was, like, 14 or 15 when they wrote this, I’m not too worried for their state of mind. We all try to be edgy and gross, and I’m sure we’ve all failed.
So really, no hard feelings from me against anyone who likes OR hates this story.