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  • Welcome to The Infographic's Horrorpiece Theater!

  • Today we're taking a look at another of the internet's most famous urban legends-

  • Laughing Jack, the Demonic Killer- and exploring his origins to discover, was this hideous

  • monster real?

  • Could he be out there right now, probably behind you or under your bed this very second,

  • waiting to claim his next victim?

  • Stay tuned and find out!

  • It was Christmas Eve in the late 1800s.

  • In a small wooden home in the poor outskirts of London, Isaac, a seven year old boy, looks

  • wistfully out the window into the dark night.

  • He can still see families celebrating together through the grimy windows of the apartments

  • and homes around him, joyfully singing as they wait together in anticipation for the

  • Christmas morning to come.

  • In young Isaac's home though, there is no singing, no warmth, and no celebrating.

  • There is only the silence that normally pervades, silence that is only occasionally broken by

  • his mother's shrill voice calling for him to come and do some chore, or to attend his

  • daily homeschooling lessons.

  • That is, until inevitably, Isaac's father comes home.

  • He can always tell it's him by the heavy boot steps that follow the front door opening,

  • shuffling and erratic, his father wavering and stumbling as he throws off his heavy overcoat

  • and lurches towards a chair or straight to bed.

  • Sometimes he can hear his mother yelling at him, blaming him for spending their meager

  • income on alcohol and other vices.

  • He'll hear his father's thunderous response, and then the fighting really starts.

  • In the morning, Isaac would exit his room to join his mother for breakfast and discover

  • her with a black eye or some other fresh bruise.

  • Staring out at the happy homes and saying goodbye to the warm singing of Christmas tunes

  • from the families inside, Isaac retreated to his bed, covering himself with a threadbare

  • blanket and surrendering to sleep.

  • Shortly after sunrise, Isaac was awoken by a strange feeling.

  • His nose twitched at a pleasant fragrance in his room, almost like a perfumed lady had

  • walked by him on the street.

  • It was a comforting, pleasant smell, and familiar too.

  • He thought he'd even felt the soft brush of lips on his cheek, as if some flowered stranger

  • had kissed him good morning before disappearing into the ether.

  • Rubbing his eyes awake, Isaac found a large, garishly colored box sitting on his bedroom

  • floor.

  • This wasn't like any gift Isaac had ever received.

  • His possessions were all worn and battered, hand me downs from local churches and poor

  • shops, his toy's paint faded from long, sad years of neglect.

  • No, this box was covered in fresh, bright paint and adorned with silly clown faces.

  • The wood was perfectly sanded and expertly joined together, only a very thin seam revealing

  • the lid on top with a small metal crank on one side.

  • Attached to the lid was a simple paper tag on which was written Isaac's name.

  • As he examined the box he noticed a small metal panel underneath: Laughing-Jack-In-A-Box.

  • Isaac was confused, he'd heard of Jack-in-the-boxes, but he'd never heard of a Laughing-Jack-In-A-Box.

  • Curious, Jack began to turn the metal crank and heard the turning of gears from within.

  • As the gears turned, a slow melody began to build, taking shape as Isaac sped up his cranking.

  • Isaac recognized this tune, it wasPop Goes The Weasel”, and giddily, Isaac began

  • to sing along.

  • Half a pound of tupenny rice, half a pound of treacle.

  • That's the way the money goes.

  • Pop!

  • Goes the weasel!”

  • Isaac was laughing along to his singing and winced as he finished the final verse, tensing

  • his body for the expected jack inside the box to come springing out!... but as the song

  • ended and Isaac stopped cranking, nothing happened.

  • Sighing, Isaac put the box back down on the floor.

  • It was wonderfully decorated, but broken.

  • As he changed out of his sleep clothes, Isaac was suddenly startled by a rattling noise

  • coming from within the box.

  • Eyes wide in surprise, Isaac stared as the box began violently shaking.

  • Then, suddenly the box top burst open with a puff of colorful smoke and an explosion

  • of confetti!

  • From the smoke, a figure hopped out, and bent at the waist into an exaggerated bow in front

  • of Isaac.

  • Dressed in colorful, and ill-fitting clothes, with bright red hair, and a swirly, rainbow-colored

  • nose, the foppish clown held his exaggerated bow before Isaac, before snapping back up

  • and spreading his arms wide.

  • 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 went wide with delight, “Who- who are you?!”

  • Why I'm your new best friend, Isaac!

  • I'm Laughing Jack, the bestest clown of all the bestest clowns that's ever clowned!

  • And you and I are going to be best pals for the rest of your life!”

  • We can... play together?”

  • Isaac asked.

  • He'd never had a friend, and barely left his room out of fear of his abusive mother and

  • father.

  • Play?!

  • Why, we can do more than play!

  • I know every game in the world, even the ones that haven't been invented yet!

  • And to boot, I'm a whiz at the accordion and know every song that's ever been sung!”

  • With a magical puff of smoke an oversized accordion appeared in the clown's arms and

  • he began to play the instrument, albeit very, very poorly.

  • His singing voice wasn't much better, but Isaac was delighted and fell over in laughter.

  • But then though, the fun and games came to an end as Isaac's mother called out for him.

  • Isaac told his new best friend that he wouldn't be able to play this morning.

  • There was homeschooling and endless chores to be done.

  • Maybe though, he could see him again tonight?, Isaac asked.

  • Laughing Jack smiled at Isaac, pinching him on the cheek.

  • You can see me tonight and every day from now on, we'll be best pals forever.”

  • Smiling, Isaac hurried out of his room as his mother's voice again rang out, this time

  • louder and angrier.

  • That night Laughing Jack was true to his word, waiting for Isaac as he returned.

  • Isaac and Jack played together every chance they could, and no matter how loud they got,

  • Jack's magic kept Isaac's parents from hearing.

  • One day, unable to hold it in any longer, Isaac finally told his mother about his new

  • magical friend, but she just shushed him.

  • Such things are fantasies, child, and you ought to keep such nonsense to yourself!”

  • Isaac was crestfallen, but as the afternoon neared he couldn't help himself, and pleaded

  • with his mother to come meet Jack.

  • Relenting, she followed Isaac to his room.

  • She opened the door and discovered... nothing!

  • No Jack, and no wonderfully colored wooden box either.

  • Isaac's mother gave him a swift smack across the face.

  • “I am tired of this childish silliness, now you're to stay in your room without supper

  • for the evening!”

  • The door slammed behind her leaving a dejected Isaac alone in his room.

  • “...I'm sorry, kiddo.”

  • Isaac turned to see Jack there.

  • “I'm not supposed to let anyone else see me, just you.

  • I'm sorry I didn't mean for you-” But Jack's words were cut off as Isaac threw himself

  • on the clown, wrapping his arms around him.

  • A giant smile spreading across his clown face, Jack hugged his best friend back, holding

  • him tightly as hot tears streamed down Isaac's cheeks.

  • Playing with Jack everyday, Isaac's loneliness and home troubles were soon forgotten.

  • One day though, as the two played pirates in the back garden, Isaac spotted the neighbor's

  • cat prowling across the grass.

  • Ahoy, matey, we got ourselves an enemy spy off the starboard bow!

  • Snatch 'em up, First Mate Jack, or I'll make ye walk the plank!”, Isaac called out.

  • Aye, aye, Capn', I'll pluck yonder bilge rat right outta tha' water!”

  • Jack's arms began to extend, reaching out and snatching up the terrified cat.

  • As the two laughed and giggled, going back and forth in their best pirate speech, Jack

  • became caught up in the game.

  • His arms continued to coil around the helpless cat, tighter and tighter until finally- snap!

  • The small, sharp sound stunned Isaac, and Jack quickly returned his arms to normal,

  • dropping the dead cat on the floor, its neck clearly broken.

  • Horrified, Jack gaped at the dead creature.

  • “...why, I...

  • I didn't mean to...”

  • But Jack's words were cut off by an uproarious laughter.

  • Isaac's cheeks flushed red as he laughed at the dead cat.

  • Looks like cats really don't have nine lives!”

  • Nervously, Jack began to chuckle as well.

  • Isaac grabbed the cat and flung it over their fence and into the neighbor's yard.

  • That evening however, Isaac's father's thunderous voice summoned him from his room.

  • Jack pressed his ear to the door and listened but couldn't make anything save for Isaac's

  • crying.

  • After what seemed an eternity, Isaac shuffled back into the room, closing the door behind

  • him.

  • The cat had been discovered and Isaac was blamed.

  • He was now to be sent off to a boarding school for unruly children where he would stay until

  • he finished his education.

  • His drunk father claimed it was to discipline Isaac, but he knew the truth- his father hated

  • him and had always wanted him gone.

  • If his mother had had objections, she hadn't voiced them.

  • Tearfully, Isaac bid his best friend goodbye, telling him that he would be unable to take

  • any of his personal belongings with him.

  • Jack returned to his box, promising to still be there when Isaac returned one day.

  • The weeks soon turned to months, and into years.

  • From within his box, Jack was still aware of the outside world, and despite the long,

  • disappointing wait for his best friend, couldn't help but perk up every time he heard the front

  • door open, hopeful it was Isaac.

  • But it never was.

  • It was Isaac's father coming home night after night, each it seemed drunker than the last.

  • As the years passed, Jack's colored makeup and clothing faded, along with his hopes.

  • The once colorful clown turned into a sad monochrome version of his old self, the memories

  • of his happy times with Isaac seeming more dream than reality now.

  • One night, there was the usual drunken sound of boots stumbling into the house, followed

  • by yelling and fighting.

  • This time though, Jack heard a scream, cut short by a swift, heavy thump- and Jack heard

  • Isaac's mother's voice no more.

  • The next morning the constable arrived with a squad of armed men, taking Isaac's father

  • away for the murder of his wife.

  • He too would be dead within the week.

  • The home lay empty and forgotten for what seemed an eternity after that, Jack aware

  • of every passing second in his lonely prison.

  • Suddenly, one night the sound of the front door opening raised Jack from his dreary vigil.

  • Expecting to hear the heavy, shuffling sound of drunken footsteps, Jack heard something

  • different instead.

  • Lighter footsteps, two of them, and the sound of a young woman's giggle.

  • Also, the voice of a man, familiar yet unrecognizable to Jack.

  • The duo entered Isaac's old room, and Jack immediately recognized his old best friend,

  • now a fully grown man.

  • Had it really been that long?

  • Jack couldn't believe it!

  • Just how much time had he spent in his lonely box?!

  • Jack called out to Isaac, “I'm here!

  • I'm right here, just like I said I'd be!”

  • But his voice echoed off the invisible walls of his prison, stuck as he'd been for years

  • on the top of a dusty old dresser.

  • Isaac and his new friend moved towards his old bed, and Jack's eyes narrowed.

  • Who was this person, taking Isaac's attention away from him?

  • Isaac had promised to come back, to set him free so they could dance and sing and play

  • together again and now here he was, after so many lonely years, but he was ignoring

  • Jack!

  • And it was all this woman's fault!

  • The two giggled together until the woman accidentally knocked a glass onto the floor, breaking it.

  • Isaac's face suddenly changed, taking on the look of his dead father.

  • Isaac went into a rage, yelling and screaming at the woman just as his father had done to

  • his mother so many nights.

  • Jack listened to Isaac's screams becoming louder and angrier until suddenly a THUMP

  • and then it was quiet.

  • A bloody candlestick was on the ground next to the woman,m who now lay dead on the floor.

  • After thirteen long years, a slow, thin smile began to spread across Jack's face.

  • My, my, what a wonderful little game...”, Jack mused to himself.

  • Still forgotten on the shelf, Jack watched as over the next few days Isaac used his learned

  • skills as an upholsterer to fashion the remains of the young woman into a small leather chair.

  • Her tanned skin was turned into leather, stretched over a frame made from her own bones.

  • Everything else that remained of her was dissolved in caustic chemicals and poured into the sewer

  • to be washed away.

  • Over the next few weeks, Isaac grew his macabre collection of human furniture.

  • Sometimes it was rude children who had been nasty to him in public, abducted and dragged

  • back to Isaac's torture chamber in a large burlap sack.

  • Other times it was ladies of the night, paid for their services only to end up as another

  • piece in Isaac's collection.

  • The pain and loneliness of the little boy he had once been had festered in his heart,

  • fed by terrible abuse from the adults at his boarding school, and creating a terrible cancer

  • within him.

  • This malice slowly infected Laughing Jack as well, and he began to look forward to witnessing

  • fresh torture sessions, still trapped helplessly inside his box.

  • But Laughing Jack longed even more to play the wonderful new games Isaac had been teaching

  • him.

  • One night, the rough frame with restraints Isaac had fashioned for his victims collapsed

  • on one side, knocking into the forgotten dresser, now home to not just Jack's prison but an

  • array of torture implements.

  • Jack's box teetered for a moment, before finally falling with a crash onto the filthy, bloodied

  • floor along with some of Isaac's tools.

  • Curiously, Isaac entered the room, eyeing the collapsed frame with a sigh.

  • Picking up the ice picks, razors, and other torture instruments, Isaac's hands stopped

  • upon discovering the box.

  • How curious, he thought to himself, memories flooding back to him.

  • His rough, calloused hands worked over the forgotten box, its bright colors faded with

  • age, wooden panels warped with neglect.

  • The hand crank was still there though, and Isaac began to turn it for the first time

  • in over thirteen years.

  • That familiar song began to play, though distorted, the delicate gears inside rusted and worn.

  • Isaac couldn't help but sing along though once more, slow, and matching the tortured,

  • labored melody.

  • Half a pound of tuppeny rice... half a pound of treacle... that's the way the money

  • goes...

  • Pop!

  • Goes the weasel...”

  • Isaac didn't flinch this time, as he had once in his youth.

  • He looked down at the