Creepypasta Origins & Stories

Jeff The Killer VS Eyeless Jack

I was in a motel. Looking at the mirror ceiling, just staring at myself. Motionless, expressionless, just looking at the evil man in the mirror. My evil, evil smile. It was the same motel where I encountered Jane for the first time. Blood battered sweatshirt, that started as white, was now covered in red. I liked it better that way. When it was (semi) white, all I could think of was my parents, and how stupid I was to do what I did. I missed my family, my brother especially. I eventually drank myself to sleep.
I woke up and stepped on my broken whiskey bottle. I didn’t mind it, I mean alcohol cleans cut’s right? I left the motel in the morning, and I noticed that my neighbors window was broken. There was a black ooze going in through the window. I bent down and smelled it. I almost puked. I went inside to investigate, and I noticed some stitching in the kidney area of a sleeping woman. I was very quiet trying not to wake her, I thought maybe she had just had surgery, and someone’s car was leaking motor oil, and a couple kids broke the window. (It was after all a pretty trashy town.) I went to the town bar. Hood up, corner booth, the usual. The bar tender came over.
“This has been your 8th visit since your stay. You sure you want to-”
“Pour the drink and go away.” I interrupted. He poured it, glared at me, and walked away. After that I went downtown to enjoy the scenery. For a mass murderer, I was a pretty regular guy. (With a couple psychological problems.) I didn’t buy much, I just enjoyed the neon, the stores, just the city in general. I stumbled my way back to the motel, that night, a sudden scream woke me from my sleep. I went over to investigate, blade in hand. I peered through the window, and an eyeless man looked over at me, screaming. He ran for me and when I attempted to cut him, he disappeared into thin air. I just thought I was hallucinating. The next day I didn’t go to the bar, I just stayed home to make sure it wasn’t the alcohol tricking me. That night I heard my window break, and a thump. As if a raccoon had fallen onto a couch. I grabbed my knife, and didn’t sleep well. I woke up and had to use the bathroom, like never before. It felt as if my back was about implode. When I went to feel it, I felt stitching, and found what seemed to be half of a kidney on my side table. There were a lot of bite marks in it, as if someone had been eating it. I retched and vomited. It was a revolting site. And I also found the same black ooze all over my sweat shirt. It was then that I knew something was not right. That night I slept with one eye open. And I heard the door creak open. I had my knife under my covers and when I felt something crawl on top of me, I punched it, and it made this awful deafening high pitched scream, I threw my knife towards it’s neck, it struck and instead of blood he dripped that black smelly ooze. He had no eyes, and black liquid dripping from the sockets. He screamed more and more. I stabbed him in the stomach, he then then took my arm and threw me across the room, he removed the knife and threw it at me, it had just barely skimmed my arm, it stuck in the wall, I pulled it out, and stabbed him once more in the stomach, and again through the neck. The blade went right through his neck.
“GO TO SLEPP.” I whispered as he wheezed his way to death. I grabbed my kidney, and went to the hospital. After the surgery I had both kidney’s, and a room mate.
“What happened?” He said.
“Go. To. SLEEP!”