~Jeff the Killer X Reader Fanfic chapter 1.~

You awake in the middle of the night with a start, you could SWEAR you felt someone breathing on you a moment before, you bolt upright in bed and look around frantically, reaching for the pocket knife you kept in your nightstand drawer. You open it, rummaging through it for the knife, nothing. You started to panic, feeling unprotected in any way. You glanced at the clock, it was 3:04 a.m...great, witching hour...nothing good happens at 3 a.m... You sat in silence for a moment, thinking rapidly, "Maybe I left it in my bathroom...I did use it earlier..." You whisper to yourself gravely looking through the dark across the room to your own personal bathroom's closed door, walking to the bathroom or even turning on the light felt dangerous at the moment. You decided to lay back again, scolding yourself for panicking so easily. 'I need to try to get back to sleep'. you thought with a sigh. "There's probly nothing even wrong anyway, I'm just being an idiot." You mumble. You attempt to close your eyes again for a few moments before you feel the breathing on you again and open them. In front of you, his face only mere inches from yours was by far the most disturbing human face you've ever seen. His face was framed by long black hair and he was clothed in a blood covered white hoodie sweatshirt and brandishing a very large looking butcher knife, also covered in what looked like blood. You went to scream but he cut you off, holding his cold and clammy hand over your mouth and bringing the edge of the very sharp knife to your throat. "Scream and I'll slit your throat right now, girl." he hissed. You gave a muffled whimper, a tear escaping your eyes, and obeyed, quieting yourself. His unblinking eyes studied you for unimaginably long moments.

"I wasn't expecting you to be so cute..." He says finally, eerily grinning at you, his already wide smile growing sickeningly wider and more sadistic "I think I'll take you home for later...I'd like to take my time with you...Just go. To. Sleeeep." is the last thing you hear before you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head as he hits you with something and you fade into dark unconsciousness.

~a couple hours later~

You awaken groggily, blinking and looking around, you're no longer in your bedroom, but the basement of some old, concrete, dusty building. it almost looked like it could be the basement of a warehouse but you weren't sure. Most likely abandoned due to the nature of how you got there and the fact that you were now bound to a long metal table by ropes in its basement. There was little light in the room save for a few scattered candles, a few small upper wall horizontal rectangle windows scattered about two of the walls, and an oil lantern which was unlit on the ground near the table. There was also pools of dark red liquid all over the place on the floor and on the table around you. Blood. So much you could smell a strong tang of an irony copper scent in the air along with the musty smell of the basement. You look around struggling frantically against the blood strewn ropes for a few moments before realizing it was useless. You weren't going anywhere. You were likely going to die, bloodying the table, ropes and floor even more as your predecessors had. You lay there shaking uncontrollably for a time, you knew the likelihood of what was going to happen to you and there was no getting out of it. Instead of screaming out like you wanted to, a few silent tears slid from your eyes and down your cheek. Screaming would likely do nothing but alert the man who took you to the fact that you were awake, and you really didn't want that yet.

You thought back to the horrid scene from your room before you were taken and shudder, you were pretty sure you knew who this man was, there'd been things all over the internet and paper lately about how a rash of murders had broken out in your home town by someone known only as 'Jeff the Killer', but that wasn't the creepiest thing, you'd seen a picture of how the one survivor described him and the man who took you fit that description perfectly. He'd had long black hair, bleached white skin, looked as if his eye lids had been singed off with the black circular rings around them, and the most sickening thing of all was his mouth, cut up into a permanent gruesome smile. He also looked to be about 23, not much older than you. All of your doors and windows were securely closed and locked, and the window wasn't broken, so how was it he got in, you wondered. And now, you were going to be one of the victims of that murderer.

"Sad almost..." You think aloud in a whisper to yourself "I wonder how much s**t you have to go through to go crazy enough to kill someone..." You look sadly up above your head at your wrist, even covered by your long sleeved grey(or favorite color) and black striped sweat shirt you know they're still there, the times you got so depressed you had to get it out somehow...those times had become more frequent lately and not only that...you'd do it even when you WERENT depressed, just to feel something. You enjoyed the burning feeling of pain in those small amounts. You laughed halfheartedly to yourself, "Maybe it's for the best, he can do what I've been wanting to do to myself for a long time, and no ones really needs me around anyway..." You say to yourself sadly and hopelessly.

"Look who's awake now..." You hear in a low purr from the other end of the room, the very dark part of the room you couldn't see into earlier...Was he sitting there watching me the whole time and just now decided to make himself known?! You think to yourself frantically, hoping he hadn't heard you talking to yourself. You almost chuckle at that thought momentarily though, embarrassed for talking out loud to yourself in front of an insane killer? Like HE's going to think YOU'RE the weird one...

You looked over at the darkness in the direction you heard his voice and he emerged with that same sadistic smile on his face, his butcher knife glinting in the glow from the candle light. He advances slowly, staring at you the entire time as if studying you like a science project. "Let's try something a little different for a change, shall we, Beautiful?" He says, an insane gleam in his eerie eyes.

slowly coming up to the table, he slides the tip of the knife up the table next to your side, making a soft metal scraping against metal sound. A shiver runs down your spine with the thought of what he would be doing to you with that knife and you gulped hard, but tried not to show you were completely terrified. He then grabs the collar of your long sleeved shirt, lifting you up a bit and putting the edge of his blade to it. "You don't need this." He grins starting to saw through your shirt. He even cuts the sleeves off and leaves nothing but the scrap you're back is laying over. You're thankful for that fact though, at least your back was spared from the cold metal of the table, which would have caused more chills.

You now lay there in with nothing but a bra covering your upper body. You could feel his creepy eyes raking your upper body and for some reason your face turned red. You didn't have much confidence in your looks so you hoped he didn't find you ugly for some strange reason. Like it mattered what he thought if he was about to kill you. You wanted to make a remark about he should take a picture and that it would last longer but you didn't want to piss him off so you kept silent. You did manage a glare though.

His eyes moved up and you noticed him intently staring at your arm, a thoughtful look on his face. Then you thought about it, s**t, the cuts. You were hoping no one would see them. Ever. He examined your wrist for a moment, seeing the many horizontal slashes up and down your (skin color) inner, lower arm. "You do this?" He asks gruffly, tilting his head to the side at you, his smile only faltering a small amount. Nodding slowly and shakily was your only response. "You suicidal, or just like the pain?" He inquires, seeming surprisingly interested in your answer. "Uhm..." You say timidly, afraid to answer.

"Answer!" He demands in a loud snappy growl.

"B-Both,...I g-guess..." You stutter back.

"Hm..." Was his only response, if he had eye lids, his eyes would likely have been narrowed in thought.

"W-Well what happened to you?" You ask, actually interested in his answer. But afraid he may get angry at you for asking and decide to add politely "I-If you don't...mind me asking..." You were trying VERY carefully not to say or do anything to make him angry.

He stared intently at his knife, frowning through his permanently cut smile, and twirling it in his hands, watching it glint in the light as he answered. "I got bullied...I took care of them though...and those liars..." Was his only response. He looked as if that would be the only answer you would coerce from him at the moment. You nodded. You knew all to well what it was like to be bullied, that's part of why you started cutting yourself in the first place. "I...know what it's like to be bullied...that's when I started doing what's up there...I don't even do it because I'm depressed anymore...I just cut to cut...I laughed the last time I did it...not that it matters." You say a small halfhearted gesture towards your arm.

He almost looked sympathetic for a moment but then his expression hardened back to coldness.

He set the large butcher knife down near your foot, but not close enough for you to do anything to it and reached into his pocket, remembering the pocket knife he'd apparently carefully grabbed out of your drawer before you woke up so that you couldn't fight back.

"You were looking for this earlier werent you?" He says, a sarcastic smirk coming to his face.

Your eyes go wide in terror for a moment, Jeff had somehow known you had the knife in that drawer. He had to have. You kept it in a special hidden part of the drawer. Was he watching you before he took you?

"Yes I was watching you." Jeff states, somehow guessing your thoughts. He unflips your, much smaller than his, pocket knife and flips it over in his hands a few times, almost admiring it. "So then, shall I use your own blade to kill you, my dear?" His grin turns twisted again as he puts the blade to your throat. "What will you say to try to avoid being slaughtered, hm?" He puts a little preassure down on the knife, forming a slim red ribbon of blood on your skin. He lifts the blade to his lips and licks off the bit of blood there. "Hm, you taste as good as you look." He purrs in an almost taunting yet sincere way.

You gulp in pain for a few moments, and your cheeks again redden a bit at his words, not sure of what to say. You didn't HAVE much to say. "If you plan on killing me, which you obviously do, just do it. Go ahead. I wont beg pitifully for my life to someone I know won't care. In a way I wanted this anyway...Please continue." You almost mechanically say, a hollow, uncaring sound in your voice. To be honest, you didn't feel you should care. You WANTED this. Maybe not in this way, but you still wanted to be dead...or so you tried to let yourself think.

"You wanted this huh?" Jeff says tilting his head in slight confusion. No one he'd killed had ever ASKED him to do so before. It almost took the fun out of it in a way. "Hm..." He mumbles, looking at you almost like a science experiment again for a moment. He then plunged the small knife through your left hand, looking as if he was thinking very hard the entire time.

"Ah." You say quietly, flinching and tearing up a bit as you temble slightly in deep pain and you try to steady your breathing again. You look up at him again in a few moments when you can with a steady but glazed over uncaring stare.

Jeff almost looked frustrated at this point as he pulled it out. He obviously wanted you to scream in pain, this wasnt going the way he wanted and he was likely either going to do much worse next to try to get more out of you or give up. You, in some back part of your mind hoped it would be the latter but kept up an uncaring appearance.

Jeff threw your knife down in annoyance, glancing up at your slashed up wrist again and looking almost thoughtful. With the fact that he had no eyelids, you couldnt quite tell for sure. He suddenly walked off in a quiet huff. You sighed in relief, you apparently werent going to die quite yet. You wished you could do something about your bleeding, throbbing hand but just clenched your fist and closed your eyes tightly for a few moments, not much later passing out.

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