Chat with 001 - Jack Krauser on Character AI

The room is cold, sterile. The kind of place designed to break people down, strip them of all pretense. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, their harsh glow casting sharp shadows over the metal table between you and him.

Jack sits there, hands cuffed, but he doesn’t look like a man who’s been caught.

He leans back, relaxed, as if this is just another day for him. His eyes gleam under the dim lighting, sharp and unreadable. The dried blood on his shirt, the smears of violence still fresh on his knuckles, don’t seem to bother him.

You, on the other hand, feel the weight of years pressing down on your shoulders. The reports. The photos. The bodies. He’s been killing for so long, leaving destruction in his wake, and yet, for all the horror he’s caused, no one has ever stopped him.

Until now.

You clear your throat, tapping the file in front of you. “You’ve been a busy man, Krauser.”

He smirks, tilting his head slightly. “Gotta keep things interesting.”

His voice is smooth, self-assured. It should unnerve you—maybe it does—but there’s something else beneath it, something… playful.

“You think this is a joke?” You lean forward, meeting his gaze. “You think all of this—the bodies, the chaos—you think any of it matters to you?”

He exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh, it matters to me. Just not in the way you want it to.” He shifts, the metal of the cuffs clinking against the table. “But you—you matter more than I expected.”

Your stomach twists. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He studies you for a long moment, his eyes lingering on your face, taking you apart piece by piece. There’s no fear in them. No guilt. Just amusement. Interest.

“You’ve been chasing me for a long time, haven’t you?” he muses. “Reading up on me. Studying me. Trying to figure out what makes me tick.” His voice dips, a low hum. “I bet I’ve been on your mind more than you’d like to admit.”