Jeff The Killer X Reader

Chapter 5

I woke up. I glanced at my phone,  it was 1am. I got out of bed, turning on my light and turning the TV over to the news. Feeling my feet hit the cold floor. I scrunched my hair, as I yawned and stretched. Checking my phone again. Mom texted me. 'Working every night this week, eat something when you wake up.'

I rolled my eyes. As the smell of rain washed over me again. As did that same feeling of malice. I didn't freeze this time. I was safe in my own house. I shuddered. I walked out of the room, heading to the kitchen. I could still hear the news casters voice as I trailed down the stairs to grab my hoodie from the radiator after earlier. 

Creeeeeeeeek

A floorboard went. I froze. That's the sound of my window ledge creaking. Despite the sound of the television, I could still hear the high pitched creak. I grabbed the hoodie. Stepping quietly into the kitchen. As a thought crossed my mind. I turned on the microwave, and turned on the radio. Whoever this was, already knows where I live. And they're aware that, they also must know I'm awake now. Were they waiting on me? Did they watch me sleep? Did they- did they watch me undress? My stomach turned. I'd make them think I was down stairs by keeping the radio and microwave on. It would drown out any noise I make. 

I felt cheap, degraded and useless. I don't want to be useless anymore. In my pride, in my anger that overwhelmed me. I decided at this moment. I didn't need anyone. Sal crossed my mind. He was mad at me. He was my friend, my best friend. The only person I felt was only genuine with me. I sighed. But I still pulled the kitchen drawer slowly. Taking out the longest, sharpest knife that had never been used. We bought it as part of a set, but never had any use for it. Until now. 

I stepped through the house slowly. Keeping my center of gravity low. I walked slowly up the stairs and to my room. As I peaked through the crack in my door. The smell of rain was stronger now. A smell of metal. A smell of blood. I felt sick, but this wasn't time to be sick. I swallowed my sickness. As my eyes pried through the crack all they could. All of a sudden a sudden very loud sniffing sound came from my room. Right by my door. By my laundry basket. I looked down. Holding my breath.

Crunch Crunch Crunch

I saw it. It was a man, or- if someone was describing the way a man should look- but it's all wrong. His jaw was askew, shaking side to side. His skin, it wasn't even skin. It looked like white leather. That expression, it was ever lasting. A carved smile. Starting at the corner of his mouth to the hilt of his cheek bones. His eyes were grey. Never blinking. They looked charred and reddened with time. His hair, was thick, black, choppy. His clothes were strange. His white hoodie was covered in blood. Black jeans, and black and white canvas shoes that looked like they were going to fall apart. 

I stared at him in a silence. He stared back. I froze. He was down on his haunches, slowly. He rose. Leaning his figure on the door. It swung slowly. His height grew leaps and bounds above me. I could hear a growling behind him. I stepped back. Pulling the knife to my side ready to lurch at him. But he just stood before me. Staring into my soul. 

Crunch Crunch Crunch

"What do you want?" My voice wavered but I still stood my ground. He said nothing. He slowly rose his bloody red hand as he put it deep into my laundry basket. He let go of the door as it swung open fully. As it revealed a husky standing behind him. It sat by the window. It's tail wagging like crazy. It tilted it's head. This would have been the cutest dog. If it wasn't with this creep. 

His hand rummaged in the laundry basket. Pulling out my towel from this morning. He still stared me down, as he rolled the towel in his hands. Slowly bringing it to his face. He inhaled it. I could hear his nose, huffing that towel like a drug. 

I gulped. I opened my mouth to say something- anything. To this- this FREAK of nature. The dog padded over to him. As I jumped back. 

"Get the FUCK out of my house-" I began to speak. But he raised a hand. As the dog took the towel from him and held it in his mouth like a toy. The stranger raised a finger to his lips, pulling something from his pocket. It glinted. It was a knife. 

A cold sweat rolled down my back. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. Could he hear it? The flow of my blood filled my ears. He slowly nodded. He closed my door, keeping me out. As I heard that same creek of the window again. My hands flung out before me. I pushed down the handle opening the door ready to strike. I had no  choice. I refuse to remain a toy for this freak. But my room was empty. However the smell of blood and rain lingered. My window shut. 

He didn't hurt me? He didn't even touch or speak to me? Was he the murderer? If so did he do this with all of his victims? Was I next? I turned on the balls of my feet to my wash basket. I rummaged. It wasn't there. My towel was gone. My dirty towel was gone. Why take it? Was he just a creep rather than a murderer? 

I closed my curtains still in fear. I looked over at the television. I hadn't noticed it was paused. Paused on the killers description. The news caster was frozen mid sentence by the looks of it. But I ran my eyes over the screen. That was it. That's him. The murderer was just in my house. A murderer was in my house and didn't even touch me. I picked up my phone. unlocking it, I hovered between two contacts. So who was I going to tell? Sal? Or Mom?