"No? Such a generous proposition too. Shame." He says, and stubs out the cigarette. "Well, seems to me that my boys are losing, and so, as usual, if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. Nothing personal, you're great in the sack and all…" He snaps his fingers. "Speaking of which -" Jack adds, then started rummaging around int he clothes pile again, until at last he made a delighted noise. "Knew I had it in here somewhere. Never go anywhere without it. Here we go." For a moment, you tense, expecting a weapon, but it's just some sort of dark fabric. It's a sack, a small bag you can keep things in, nothing more.
"We'll finish this up later. Clackety-Clack, Get in the Sack." He tells you, the all is darkness.
You feel nothing. No light, no air, no sound, no temperature, no texture, nothing at all. Total Sensory Deprivation. But you can tell what happened, Jack sucked you into the bag he keeps his loot in. And there's no way out.
Jack Ketch doesn't even flinch as the razor-sharp tip of the sword nicks his leg, leaving a red line that starts to leak. Which is a shame, because before you can dart back means the return swing of the axe clips the side of your head, removing a flap of scalp and sending you staggering. If the axe was angled slightly differently, you'd be dead, but luck was on your side and it only cut you painfully but superficially and rattled you a bit. As well as taught you a valuable lesson. You're not young anymore. And you've aged, while he's been preserved in perfect shape, untouched by time. Without your talent to keep you safe…
Which isn't to say you're not skilled with a blade. Past your prime you may be, but you've been swinging a sword long enough to account for that. At your best, you'd give a much better showing. Some day where you aren't already drained from exertion after exertion and had plenty of sleep. You are far from at your best.
Well, you're not faster than him, you're not stronger than him (unless all those rippling muscles beneath his jerkin are for show), his axe has greater reach then your sword, and his silent intensity and professional demeanor suggest you wouldn't have much luck distracting him or trying to reason with him either. But you are almost certain you are much smarter than him, so drawing it away from a physical contest can only help matters.
Most of the files are about the students, many of which he's not seeing in his role as a guidance councilor, including several of the teachers. Many of the information is sensitive and private. Or classified. And down-right terrifying in the details. Sleeping patterns (he's got somebody watching you all sleep), personal information…
Were you the blackmailing sort, you could use this to disregard the privacy of anyone in the school. Is there someone specific that you are looking for?
The Wind catches Jack Frost. Apparently, he can fly, borne aloft by the cold winds from the North. And, judging from those dark clouds suddenly coming in from every direction like metal filings drawn to a magnet, conjure up a blizzard. Not just cold powers. Winter Powers.