Creepypasta Origins & Stories

Jeff The killer vs Jane the killer

Point of JANE

That night was cold. Very cold. I ran through the streets cleverly and swiftly. I reached the top of a tall building and perked up to look out upon the city. I took off my mask and looked down on the busy roadways. I’m not sure why I still wore the mask, even though my face was healed. The mask had become a part of me. A part of my story. I sat down on the rooftop and tuned in my radio to the local police radio. I sat for hours trying to find calls on murders that may have been linked to Jeff. After 9 years since the night Jeff burned me, i was still on my search to hunt and kill him.

I finally heard the anticipated call. A woman and her husband were found dead in their home with holes in their chests and gashes in their cheeks forming smiles. I turned off the radio, put my mask on, and sprinted to scene. Police hadn’t arrived yet, so i investigated. Jeff has a habit of calling the authorities just before finishing his victims, so he may still be at the scene. Upon arrival, the house is completely intact, which is odd for Jeff. Normally he burns the house with the victims. I barged inside and heard nothing but still silence. In the back of the house, i heard a faint tapping. I headed to the back of the house. I grabbed the doorknob of the back door and slowly turned it with sweaty, stressed palms. I squinted my eyes as i opened it, expecting something or someone to lunge at me. The door opened all the way, and my eyes were still closed for some reason. Then i heard it. That voice. That same voice i heard on the night He burned me, only deeper and more into manhood. “Looks like you made it. I’m glad you did, friend.” I opened my eyes and grabbed my knife.

Point of JEFF

Killing is too easy. Especially for me with a face that stuns people with its beauty. I open the window, jump inside, and the civilians just stop in their tracks when they see me. I always mutter my “Go to Sleep” in an attack. Killing is a lot easier when the person is asleep. Why do i kill? Simple. I want everyone to be as beautiful as me. Everyone in modern society is ugly and unattractive compared to me, and i feel bad for them, so i give them a piece of my beauty. However, beauty comes with a price. The only way to make people beautiful without causing them pain is to kill them.

Killing was too easy around that time. I needed more of a challenge. So, one night i decided to end one last easy target then head for the most challenging foe of mine. Jane. I sat in the sewers during the day and watched the people pass by, completely oblivious to my presence below the sewer grate. I always lurk down there. It’s dark, cold, and damp. Plus, it gives me the perfect window to set my eyes on my target. Then, i found her. Mary J. Allan. She was beautiful. Perfect skin, dark red hair, and dressed in a black gown with black heels. Later that night, I followed her home. She lived deep in the woods, so, thinking she was protected from robbers, she left her door unlocked. At around midnight, i snuck in the house, creeped to the back room, and choked Mary until she passed out. One thing that caught my attention was her eyes. When she turned around before i grabbed her neck, her eyes widened with fear. Her pupils grew large and her iris dimmed.

Not long after, her husband arrived home. I took my knife in hand and hid behind the door entering the bedroom. As soon as he walked into the doorway, i slammed the door into his face with enough force to knock him out. A few hours later, they both woke up.

“Who are you? Why are doing this to us? We have no money and nothing worth stealing.” said Mary.

“I’m not doing this for money. I’m doing this for beauty.” I said.

“What? What kind of reason is that?” asked the husband.

I put the knife to his neck, and he jumped with sudden fear. His eyes. They did just what Mary’s did. They widened, the pupils grew larger, and the iris dimmed.