Chapter 1

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•Mallory•

As I walk down the sidewalk, I look down, watching my feet. I had just left my friend's house, from watching a scary movie. I know I could've just stayed the night, but being the crazy person I am, would rather walk fifteen minutes to my house, on a dark Saturday night. I look around the streets, not many people out. This was a small town, most people my age were probably out in a different city partying all night, only to return to their parents having to explain why they missed church and why they look half dead. I've never been to a party myself, aside my few friends and relative's birthday parties. Nothing like a "Hey, lets go out and twerk on people and get wasted" party. Never have been interested in that kind of thing.

Anyways, my name is Mallory. I'm seventeen, and a senior in high school. I'm pretty short for my age, around 5'4. I have long brown hair cut into the "scene" look, I'm pale, have light freckles, and have green eyes. And 99.9% of the time, I'm either wearing band merch or all black clothing. Yeah, I'm one of the weird punk rock kids with only a few friends.

I cross the street, walking towards the woods. Shortcut to my house. As soon as I cross the street, I dig into my hoodie pocket and reach for my phone and earbuds. I put the earbuds in my ears, and play Welcome To The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. Such a shame they broke up, I'm still devastated to this day. I continue to walk, not really paying attention to my surroundings, being my music is on full blast.

A few minutes into the woods, someone or something grabs my shoulder. I stop and turn around, to see a boy my age with black hair cut like Andy Biersack's when he was a teenager, or maybe even Johnnie Guilbert's. I don't know. But he was super pale, almost white, with eyelids barely there, and a creepy smile carved into his face. He's also wearing a white hoodie with... blood on it?! Or maybe that's just food coloring. He's probably just a kid playing a joke, murder and stuff is unheard of in my town. Dang, I'm not even scared.

"You okay there, buddy?" I ask, with an amused, but concerned tone. "You mean you aren't scared of me?" He asks. "No. You're probably just some neighborhood kid trying to scare the shit out of me. And you're really not that intimidating," I answer. "You don't know who I am?!" He asks, surprised. "Umm, no? Why, am I supposed or something?" I ask. "Well, I'm kinda famous. So I guess. I'm Jeff The Killer," he says. "Cool, and I'm Mallory The Unicorn Stripper," I say sarcastically. "Even if you were a killer, why am I not dead? You wanna kill me or not?" I ask, spunkily. "Trust me, if I wanted to kill you you'd be dead by now," he says, twirling his knife around in his hand. I look at it, seeing dried blood all over it. Ew. "Okay, kid, Jeff, whatever your name is, you're clearly pretty crazy, and you need Jesus, so me and my friends are gonna pray for you. Okay?" I say slowly, letting him process what I'm saying. I was brought up in a Christian home, and as my grandma always said, "You gotta pray for the crazy people, you can't change 'em, so you better pray to God he can help them lost souls."

He rolls his eyes, putting his knife in his hoodie pocket. "See ya around, Mal," he says, and walks away. "Hey! That nickname is reserved for friends only!" I shout out at him. Well, that was certainly a memorable experience.

As soon as I get home, I hop upstairs to my bedroom, rushing to take a shower. I take out some pajamas and stuff, and run to my bathroom. I place the clean clothes on top of the sink, strip of the clothes I'm wearing now, and throw them in the dirty clothes hamper. I quickly turn the shower water on, and jump in.

I lather my hair in shampoo and conditioner, letting it sit for a few seconds before rinsing it out. I then quickly but thoroughly wash my body in my passion fruit scented shower gel, which smells amazing. I rinse off, and then turn off the shower water, and dry off. I put on my clean pajamas, and then wash my face and brush my teeth. After that, I brush out my wavy/curly hair, and dry it. After all that, I walk into my bedroom to see a note on my nightstand. I pick it up, and read it.

'Nice underwear and bra drawer. Like your room, too.

P.S, I came in through the window. I'll always find a way in.

-Jeff ;)'

Well shit.

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Hey guys, my friend Fabulous_Bish posted a fanfic thingy, so I decided to post one too. And no, this is not my first fanfic, I just deleted the others bc

1. I dont like One Direction anymore

And

2. My Andy B. one wasnt getting any reads, tbh.

Hopefully this one will be different or whatever.

Okay bye

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