Different (A Creepypasta Fanfic)

Chapter 7

Author's note: Okeeeeey~ I dunno how exactly this turned out but I was satisfied with it.. I also realized that Jeff's the only pastamonster here and I've decided to include some OTHER beings LOL.. I think Jeff was OOC on this one.. but who cares? XD

Enjoy!

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I exhaled and then my vision started to clear up as I look at the house nearest to me. Without thinking, I climbed over their fence and climbed up the tree to gain easier access to the window located on the second floor. Seeing that there was no one inside that particular room, I slid open the window and slipped inside, making sure that I made no sound as I did it.

I looked around the room for something sharp when I saw a figure on the windowsill. I stared at him with blank eyes. It was Jeff the Killer.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks with eyes that were a mixture of anger and confusion.

“I’ll throw that question right back at you,” I reply as I resume my hunt for a small sharp thing I could use.

He was then behind me pressing the tip of his knife against my back but not enough to draw blood. “Answer me,”

Opening a drawer, I saw scissors which I immediately picked up before turning to face him making him back off for a bit. Then we heard the doorknob turn.

In a second, Jeff was gone and I hid inside the closet as fast as I could. Even I was slightly taken aback by how quick I was able to move.

A figure not taller than me entered the room with green headphones and a coffee cup in hand. I watched him place his coffee on his desk before sitting on his bed and turning on his laptop. I then slowly went out of my hiding place and crept behind him only to see Jeff do the same. I held the scissors tightly and Jeff did the same thing with his kitchen knife.

‘Go away’, he mouthed.

I glared before mouthing a ‘No way in hell,’

We glared at each other mouthing curses and threats when the guy turned around. Noticing this, we immediately hid under the bed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Jeff whispered to me in the most threatening tone.

“I came here to grab a bite, what are YOU doing here?” I shot back.

“Grab a bite? What the hell! I came here to murder the guy!”

“Well, I got hungry, okay? And why murder him? Did he do something to you?”

Jeff gave me an ‘Are-you-freaking-stupid?’ look.

We then felt a shifting movement from above the bed and before I knew it, Jeff was gone and blood was spilling to the floor. I crawled out and watched as Jeff stab the guy in the chest repeatedly. I knocked him off.

“What the hell?!” he yelled.

“I had to do that or else you’ll mess up my food,” I frowned.

“What food?!”

Using the sharp scissors I grabbed earlier, I cut the guys’ upper clothes before using the blades to tear his chest open. Jeff watched me, filled with curiosity. I looked around for something hard and decided to settle with the hard coffee mug to break his rib cage. I hit his rib cage repeatedly until the mug broke into pieces, only creating a crack on the rib cage. Grunting, I decided to punch it repeatedly which then broke his rib cage. Using the scissors, I cut off his arteries and veins before getting his heart out.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, an amused grin on his pale face.

“Eating,” I replied before taking a chomp off the small bloody heart.

An hour passed and I was in the living room with Jeff. We killed everyone in the house and I did my thing. He was cleaning his knife and he looked at me as I tried to wipe off the blood around my mouth but eventually gave up.

“I didn’t know you eat hearts,” he said.

“I didn’t either. Only until yesterday,” I shrugged.

“Yesterday? I killed your family yesterday, right?” he asked with a frown.

“That you did,” I nodded.

He was silent before asking, “Why do you eat hearts?”

I looked at him in the eye and smiled as he was suddenly wide-eyed, “I realized that if I do so, I’m able to become normal. Except for the fact that I still don’t feel anything in the outside for example, if you stab me right now, I won’t feel pain or if you pinch me right now, I still won’t feel anything,”

“Then how come you’re not depressed about your family’s death?” he asked.

“How does that feel?” I ask.

Jeff sighed and face-palmed himself before laughing. He stood up and extended his hand to me. I look at him and he said, “Come with me. I know a place where you’ll fit in just perfectly,”