Jacob believed that loyalty and hard work were all a man needed to succeed. He had learned that lesson from his father, a machinist who spent his life fixing steam engines and clockwork mechanisms. As a child, Jacob had followed his father around workshops, his small hands learning to hold wrenches and tighten bolts before he could even spell the word “engine.” By the time he reached adulthood, he was one of the most reliable mechanics in the area—a man who could solve problems and keep machines running smoothly.
But loyalty could be dangerous when misplaced.
When Cogsworth offered him a position on the Fate Engine project, Jacob didn’t hesitate. He admired Cogsworth’s ambition, the way the man talked about bending fortune and reshaping destiny. Jacob believed in him, trusted him to know what he was doing. When Cogsworth explained the machine’s requirements, including the need for a sacrifice, Jacob didn’t question it. Cogsworth made it sound clinical, like a necessary technical step. It wasn’t Jacob’s place to doubt the man who had given him so much. His job was to follow orders, and Jacob was good at his job.
As the project neared completion, Jacob noticed the tension in the workshop. Seer was growing more withdrawn, muttering to himself and avoiding eye contact. Dave argued with Cogsworth at every turn, and even Agony seemed uneasy. But Jacob brushed it off. They were just nervous. Once the machine worked, everything would be fine.
But everything wasn’t fine.
On the night of the betrayal, Jacob’s hands trembled as he helped Cogsworth restrain James. “Please,” James begged, tears streaming down his face. “You don’t have to do this.”
Jacob tightened his grip. “It’ll be over soon,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He wanted to believe it. The machine hummed louder, and Jacob forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He couldn’t let emotions get in the way.
Then Jeff walked into the workshop.
Jacob hadn’t even realized Jeff had been called in that night. The handyman stood by the entrance, holding a toolbox, his face scrunched in confusion as he surveyed the scene. “What’s going on?” Jeff asked.
“Get out!” Dave shouted, but the vortex had already formed. Nails flew across at Jeff and burrowed deep into his skull. The machine’s energy lashed out again, and Jeff was dragged in the storm. His body flickered like a dying flame before being pulled into the vortex, his screams joining Agony’s in a horrifying chorus. Jacob could only watch in horror as Jeff’s eyes glowed red, the huge nail mow hawk reflected light off the spinning gears of the machine.
The explosion came next. One of the machine’s massive components broke loose and crashed into Jacob, pinning him to the ground. He felt his bones snap, the weight crushing him until he could barely breathe. His vision blurred, and as the world faded to black, he saw Jeff’s glowing red eyes staring at him through the smoke.
As a ghost, Jacob is a twisted, broken reflection of the man he once was. His limbs are bent at unnatural angles, and his translucent skin is marred by fractures that pulse faintly with the machine’s energy. His eyes flicker with static, like the hum of gears grinding against each other. He drags himself across the workshop, each movement accompanied by the faint sound of creaking metal.
Jacob’s greatest torment isn’t his broken body—it’s the weight of his guilt. He tries to convince himself that he was just following orders, that he didn’t know things would go so wrong. But deep down, he knows the truth: he helped restrain an innocent man, and now that betrayal haunts him.
His encounters with the other ghosts are filled with tension. He avoids Dave whenever possible, knowing the man blames him for everything. His relationship with Seer is strained—Jacob pities him for his blindness, but he resents the fact that Seer’s silence played a role in the tragedy. His guilt toward Agony is the most unbearable. When Agony’s ghost appears, contorted with pain and rage, Jacob can’t bring himself to speak. He mutters apologies under his breath, but he knows they aren’t enough.
Jeff’s presence is the most terrifying of all. Jacob sees Jeff’s glowing red eyes in the shadows of the workshop, hears his footsteps when no one else does. Jeff never speaks to him directly, but his silent gaze says more than words ever could. To Jacob, Jeff is the embodiment of everything he failed to prevent—the innocent life consumed by the machine’s greed. Sometimes, when the air grows cold and the shadows stretch long, Jacob feels Jeff standing behind him, waiting for the moment when Jacob’s guilt finally consumes him.
The living who encounter Jacob’s ghost often mistake him for a warning, a symbol of what happens when you blindly follow orders. But Jacob isn’t a warning—he’s a consequence, trapped in a loop of regret that no amount of loyalty can undo.
When the machine hums faintly in the darkness, Jacob’s ghost is drawn to it like a moth to a flame. He reaches out with his broken hands, hoping that maybe this time, he can fix what he helped break. But Jeff’s eyes always appear before him, silently reminding him that fate is irreversible.