Creepypasta Imagines

Jeff: Halloween Time

Halloween, the best time of year. You get to dress up; be any anything you like, and eat so much candy your dentist retires. You looked forward to Halloween every year, but this year was the most important. You'd spent almost all year preparing your costume; you wouldn't accept anything less than perfect. This year, you were going to terrorize the streets as the one and only Jeff the Killer. True to say he was a cheesy character, and many didn't like him, but you loved what he stood for. He represented the damaged and broken, the ones who stood up against the bullies and liars and came out on top. You'd spent so much money on the costume, but it was well worth it. You looked perfect.
Tonight was the big night; you grabbed your knife and your bottle of blood, and headed out. You didn't plan to Trick-or-Treat tonight, at least not for a while. You had other plans. You walked down town to the richest and busiest area, houses of incredible size and price lined the streets. You noticed a group of young kids walking down the street in your direction, you smiled to yourself and crept into the bushes. You waited for them to walk by, and then jumped out in a mock attack. The group of kids screamed and ran as you sprayed them with fake blood, causing you to laugh so hard you almost cried. With your laughter fading away, you looked around for another target. That's when you saw him, another Jeff the Killer. He stood so still under the street light, staring at you. You, believing it was another regular person, began walking up to them. You were so, so wrong. Your smile grew as you neared him, pleased to see that someone else took the time to make an amazing costume of Jeff. Though, the closer you got the harder he stared. You tried waving at him, but he simply stared. Ignoring the slight fear you felt, you walked straight up to him.

"Hey I like your-"You go to compliment his costume but stop, your eyes transfixed on the boys carved smile. It looks so real; it made your stomach go numb.

"Holy shit man, you did fantastic on that smile." You compliment, staring at it. His smile grows, he grins at you in the most unsettling way.

"You're really committed aren't you...?" You say, beginning to get worried. His hand moves slightly and you glance down, you see him gently squeeze his knife. With a quick and sudden movement, he raises the knife and slashes across your face. You let out a pained shout, your hand pressing against the bleeding wound on your right cheek.

"What the-"The stinging on your cheek makes your eyes water, your eyes widen when he raises the knife again. You turn to run, screaming for someone to help you.

"Help! Someone help!" You scream. People stop to look but they only smile and point at you, thinking it's all a joke. You continue to scream, the boy gaining on you. Warm blood pools in your hand and runs down your neck, staining your white hoodie. You run, having no idea where you're going. You take a sharp left, running into an old building. You rush through the empty rooms, darting for the stairs. You run up them and look around the second floor trying to find a place to hide. Realization that this was a shitty idea, you stuff yourself into a cabinet at the back of the room. Your knees press against your chest and your eyes squeeze shut. You hear quiet walking, steady slow steps walking around on the floor below. Your other hand presses against your mouth in an attempt to quiet your breathing. Suddenly, the walking stops. You hold your breathe, your chest stings from the lack of air but you don't care. What feels like a millions years pass before you hear the unmistakable sound of a step on the stairs squeaking.

Squeak
...
Squeak
...
Squeak

"Where aaaaaare youuuu." His rough voice calls out like a lullaby. You refuse to let yourself breathe, tears falling down your face. The tears fall into your cut and you hiss, instantly regretting it. The boys laugh rolls out of him like thunder, you hear his pace quicken and before you know it he yanks the cabinet door open. He looks down at you with the most sinister look, his pale hand grips your hair and forces you out onto the floor. He straddles you, grinning in the moonlight.

"It's like looking in a mirror..." He coo's tracing the blade along your fake smile. The blade ghosts your skin down to your neck, his eyes fixated on you.

"Are you..." You choke you, swallowing harshly "Are you real?" You ask quietly and he throws his head back, a booming laugh escaping him.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I'm real." He says, dominance laced in his voice. His knife firmly presses into you neck causing you to gasp and try to pull away.

"I am the real Jeff the Killer..." He slowly leans down to your ear, his smirk pressing into the side of your face.

"And its time to go to sleep."